mortemersgf

“We need to get out of here,” he mumbles.

Eden pulls away to breathe, sighing, “We’re the hosts.” A small laugh falls from her mouth as Beckett lowers his head to leave quick kisses down the column of her neck. Her eyes flutter shut in pleasure, and she allows herself to bask in the feeling of his body pressed to hers.

“We’ll be quick,” he murmurs, brushing another kiss along her pulse point, “No one will notice”—his lips skim her jawline—“I promise.”

Curse him and his insanely persuasive methods, Eden thinks. She’s about to take him up on his offer and abandon her duty when Atlas’ shout cuts over the softening music.

“Quit sucking face and join the party!” Atlas calls. She’s standing by the beer pong table, drinking from a red solo cup with an arm slung around a giggling Aster.

With a shared, sheepish look, they break apart, but not before Eden mumbles a promise to pick up where they left off into Beckett’s tinged ear.

• in the shower

Eden buckles as Beckett pushes into her, fingers grasping at nothing but the cold tiles pressed to her chest. She releases a quiet mewl when he begins to move, slowly but deeply, building up a rhythm that has her head swimming with ecstasy.

She twists her head, moaning when Beckett meets her halfway and slants his mouth against hers. He reaches between her legs, spurring her towards her release by swirling his long digits around her clit. Eden whimpers into his mouth and Beckett only takes this as further encouragement, thrusting into her with a merciless speed.

“God, you feel incredible,” Beckett praises.

His words come out a soft murmur, and though the rivulets of water spraying over their tangled bodies is warm, Eden shivers.

• in the kitchen

Wordlessly, with careful footsteps, Eden slinks behind Beckett, who is hunched over the kitchen counter. She snakes her arms around his bare torso and greets, “Good morning.” She grins, brushing a soft kiss against his shoulder.

Beckett turns his head at the welcome interruption, a warm smile spreading across his lips. “Good morning,” he says, “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, last night knocked me right out. My legs are still sore.”

“I apologize for that…”

Even after years of being together, Beckett is still so easy to fluster. Eden stifles a laugh, watching him pipe dollops of buttercream around the small cake he baked, uselessly fighting a pink flush that has already tinted his cheeks. It’s ten in the morning, but he figures Eden deserves a treat for, well, being Eden.

“Cake for breakfast?” Eden asks, stepping around him, “I didn’t know you had such a big sweet tooth.”

“This is for you,” Beckett simply says.

“Is it like, compensation?”

Eden snickers at the exasperated sigh Beckett lets out, pecking him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

— reasons why people kiss

• power

“Look at me.”

Eden hooks a finger under Beckett’s chin. His gaze meets hers, and she smiles. The sight of him panting underneath her is one to behold. His face is painted a pretty blush, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

“Please,” he grits out, “please start moving…”

In response, Eden grinds her hips against his, relishing the broken moan that spills from his lips. His fingers dig into her thighs and he pleads again, “Please, Eden.”

“I’ll think about it after you give me a kiss,” Eden says. She gives him an inviting smile, tracing a finger down the middle of his chest.

A pleasant chill makes its way down the length of Beckett’s body, and he obliges much too eagerly, leaning forward and cupping the back of her neck to bring her face down to his. The kiss is languid and leaves Beckett even more breathless than before. When they part and Eden sees the desperate want in his eyes, she says, “Good boy.”

• celebration

Beckett is shining on stage when he presents his newest findings of ward magick to the top officials in the magickal world. Eden watches him from backstage through a monitor, an ecstatic smile strung on her features. Proud is an understatement. She isn’t sure there is a word in the English language to describe the immense joy she feels for him at this moment.

A round of thundering applause concludes Beckett’s presentation. Eden jumps to her feet as he steps backstage, laughing as he sweeps her off her feet in a tight embrace.

“You did amazing!” Eden all but cries. “Those late night practice runs were more than worth it.”

Beckett sighs with relief, his face breaking into a brilliant smile. “I have you to thank for that.” He plants a brief kiss on Eden’s smiling lips after she brushes away a few strand hairs from his eyes.

“Mr. Harrington! A few words, please?”

The calls of reporters clamoring for an interview with Beckett drifts backstage, prompting the couple to share another round of giddy smiles. Before he slips away to answer their burning questions, Beckett takes the time to kiss Eden breathless. He cups her cheeks gently with the palms of his hands, brushing the tip of his nose against hers as he pulls away.

“Don’t keep them waiting,” Eden says. She dabs at the corner of his lips where her lipstick has rubbed off with a napkin, giggling as Beckett leans in for one last kiss.

“I love you,” he whispers. And he’s striding back on stage again, leaving Eden with a fluttering feeling in her stomach she has only ever felt around Beckett.

taglist: @mm2305 @choicesficwriterscreations

You wish you had more energy, but the heat and the pain leave you disjointed and unable to cast a Blood magick spell to take the headache away. You simply lay there in Beckett’s arms, letting him stroke your hair and your back.

His touch is soothing and light, and despite the fact that it’s only five in the evening, you find yourself growing drowsy. It doesn’t help that he’s speaking in that saccharine tone to distract you from the irksome throbbing in your head. Beckett has a soothing voice in general, one that’s able to induce sleep in you within minutes.

He’s speaking about some recent advancements made in portal magick, and you hum absentmindedly, groaning as you shift to get some blood circulating in your arm that’s fallen asleep.

“Sure you don’t wanna go take a swim?” you mumble, glancing up at him.

“I’m quite sure, my love,” he says, “I want to spend what little alone time we have together.”

“Even if it includes cuddling with your sick girlfriend?”

“You say that as if I would ever turn down the opportunity to be with you, indisposed or not.”

You laugh, charmed by his comment. “Well, if you’re certain… c’mere, gimme a kiss.”

He tilts your head up, cupping your cheek with one hand to meet you in a sweet kiss. Satisfied, you settle back into your original position, murmuring, “Keep talking about portal magick.”

An hour passes by like this, your limbs tangled, laughter on your lips. By the time the sun sets, you’re asleep.

The rest of Pend Pals pad into the living room, still giddy from spending the day on the lake. Beckett pins them with a death glare and a finger to the lips, and they halt at the sight. A beat of silence passes between them.

Beckett grows pink. Aster coos quietly while Atlas pushes past everyone to get to her room, making an exaggerated face of disgust as she passes by. Zeph and Shreya hold back giggles, and no doubt a slew of teasing comments, as Griffin smiles fondly.

Moments later, they all disperse to prepare dinner. Atlas reemerges from her room with a blanket and tosses it at Beckett wordlessly, gliding away to pester Aster for scraps of food. Beckett straightens out the blanket and settles it atop you, brushing your hair to coax you back to sleep as you mumble incoherently.

The sound of a camera click goes off. Beckett’s head snaps up. Shreya gives him a pointed look, smiling when she says, “What? You guys look adorable. I’ll send it to you.”

She’d better.

a/n: hii anon tysm for the cute request!! i had fun writing this one :3 you characterized beckett perfectly, he’s a big softie when it comes to his s/o!

To be fair, it was a large root, one belonging to a white oak tree. They were trekking through the woods on an evening walk when Isla misstepped and went sprawling on the forest ground. Her injury is mild, but she finds it pesky to be in a cast all the same.

“I know, sweetheart, I know…” Adrian murmurs in sympathy.

“Did the doctor really say it would be weeks before I could get the cast off?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Isla crosses her arms over her chest, her bottom lip slightly jutting out. The sight of her pouting reminds Adrian much of a sulking child. He smiles warmly, patting her head to smooth down some stray hairs.

“You’ll get better soon,” he coaxes, “Very soon. I promise.”

“I know. I just…” Isla says, releasing a pent up sigh, “This is so inconvenient. For both of us. You’re running a large, successful company, and you have to take care of me? It’s a lot, and I feel like a burden.”

Adrian gently cups her face with one hand, meeting her sullen gaze with a loving one. “You are not an inconvenience, Isla, especially to me. I like taking care of you. It’s a privilege. I only wish I could take the pain away.”

Isla snuggles into his touch, feeling her shoulders drop with relief. Adrian has always taken good care of her, even when he doesn’t need to. She only worries he might overwork himself, but it’s evident he knows his limits, and he’s happy to look after her.

“You’re doing enough just by being here, but if you really wanna make me feel better…” Isla says, a playful smile blooming on her face, “I could use some kisses.”

“That I can do. Come here.”

Adrian kisses her, firm yet gentle, his hands coming to cradle her face in his palms. He’s so warm Isla melts into him. She leans close to better kiss him, the scent of sandalwood and citrus from his cologne filling her senses with a fervent need. Isla doesn’t even notice her hands have balled up the front of his dress shirt until Adrian pulls away, laughing quietly.

“We have to take it easy the first couple of days,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

“I know,” Isla drawls. She collapses into the sofa, sighing at the ceiling.

“Can I make you something to eat? Something sweet?”

“I wouldn’t mind having some chocolate molten lava cake.”

“Alright. Sit tight. Call out if you need anything, okay?”

“I will…” Isla grumbles under her breath.

- beckett always carries a camera with him when they go on trips. he purchased his first camera to capture photos of flora and fauna he would encounter on his ~ scientific nature ~ walks, and he’s gotten really good at photography. aside from greenery, eden is the subject of all his photographs.

- eden, on the other hand, snaps the randomest pictures of beckett with her phone. her photo album features beckett taking naps with his eyes slightly open, him shirtless doing morning yoga, eating something mid-bite, pointing out exhibits and plants in museums and nature, etc.

- it embarrasses beckett to no end and he’s always whining about his ‘reputation being ruined’ if those pictures were to somehow leak.

- study dates, so many study dates. you can always find the pair in the library, local cafe, laboratory, sun/metal-att classrooms, or their dorms working on assignments, projects, experiments, or training. eden and beckett are powerful magickal users within their respective attunements, and they learn a lot from each other.

- book nerd beckett who annotates whatever he reads for eden because he knows she’s as much of a nerd as he is.

- he’ll comment on magickal theories, share his own thoughts, and give more insight on certain sections of content so that eden has a bit more context. she’s still learning her way around the magickal world, and beckett wants to help in any way he can.

- they’d read on the couch together, sometimes the same book, sometimes different. every so often when they’re engrossed in the same book, beckett will read aloud and eden would hum quietly, resting her head on his chest.

- early bird beckett and night owl eden. beckett who’s waking up, greeted by eden who is finally tuckered out enough to sleep.

TW - allusion to PTSD, anxiety, insomnia, repeated nightmares, descriptions of scars in the next section.

- eden isn’t a night owl out of her own volition. sometimes, she has trouble sleeping, remembering battles, killing raife, kane hurting her friends.

- her heart beats so fast she thinks she might be back in the battlefield, fending off shadow monsters while fretting over her friends’ safety.

- beckett isn’t any better at times. he’d wake up with a start in the middle of the night, having one of those nightmares where raife and kane had taken his friends from him, taken eden from him.

- the two of them stay up until the early hours of morning, talking about everything and nothing at all to soothe each other’s worries, promising one another they’ll always face everything together, no matter what.

- because of the many fights they’ve been in, they’ve earned themselves countless scars. when they shower together, they can’t help but marvel at the patches of skin that are discolored and textured from being stitched closed on each other.

- eden likes tracing the large scar beckett has right down the middle of his back. she can’t help pressing her lips to his right shoulder blade from where the scar begins.

- eden’s favorite place to kiss beckett; however, are the apples of his cheeks. she likes cupping his face and bringing him really close so she can count the freckles dotting his skin. she’ll laugh when she notices his face growing pink and pepper kisses all over, deepening that shade of pink to a bright red.

- beckett’s favorite place to kiss eden is her neck. once he found out that’s her sensitive area, he uses it to his full advantage to render her incoherent. he’s always sputtering and blushing from her teasing, so it pleases him deeply seeing eden all flustered when he presses light kisses along her throat.

CW - NSFW 18+ hcs begin here!

- eden is a big tease, but beckett shouldn’t be discounted as one either, especially in bed. he likes to test her breaking point, so orgasm denial/control is a big thing for him. he feels feral seeing eden all flushed and glistening and pliant just for him.

- to elaborate, beckett likes drawing out eden’s pleasure. he likes making her feel good, and he wants the sex to last as long as possible because it’s a really intimate act after all. rushing through it never feels as good as it does when he takes his time with her.

- however, on the occasion they can’t spare hours exploring each other’s bodies, they turn to quickies.

- beckett is less a fan of them than eden, who finds enjoyment in the neediness, greedy touches, and searing kisses that come with quickies.

- most of them happen in the shower. whether it be in the morning when they have class soon or in the evening and they have a dinner reservation to make, trust they’ll find time to fuck.

- beckett can be dominant, yeah, but he also has a subby side, and he trusts eden will take good care of him just as he does with her.

- sometimes, beckett gets so whiny and whimpery for eden she has to shut him up with a gag or a really deep kiss that steals his breath away, leaving him dizzy.

- beckett enjoys fighting for control, as does eden. they’re competitive by nature and their contesting knows no end. the satisfaction of being the winner adds to the pleasure, and they’re all smug until the other one flips the role.

- eden never cares to hide that she ogles beckett, especially when he’s under her. beckett with his pink, freckled cheeks, mussed up hair, and well defined muscles all slick with sweat, throwing his head back to moan… eden can’t help but let her eyes and hands wander.

- cleanup takes seconds (hint: magick) so after sex, they can spend up to hours in bed, talking and cuddling and laughing.

- there’s gonna be some teasing, like “i can’t believe how loudly you moaned!” or “you bent that lighting fixture out of shape again!” eden owns up to it, but beckett will groan in embarrassment as she pokes fun at him. that usually ends with him attacking her with an onslaught of kisses or another round.

- eden knowing blood magick is a big bonus. she’s gotten good at soothing pain, so if one of them feels sore the next morning, she’ll just cast a neat lil spell to take the aches away.

- those two suck at being subtle. when they go on vacation with the rest of the pend pals and their friends see a stream of light or the sound of metal bending coming from beckett and eden’s room, they all share a knowing look (atlas shares more than a look, she audibly gags).

To say she’s exhausted is an understatement, but to say she isn’t feeling chipper would be a lie as well. It’s strange, but Eden decides she can be two things at once. She’s weary from spending ten hours on a bus with a dozen rowdy Thief players, but she’s also thrilled to be home. No hotel bed can compare to her own. No pillow is better than Beckett’s chest.

As she steps into the building, she wonders, for a moment, if he’s awake. It’s nearing three in the morning, and Beckett is nothing if not punctual with his sleep schedule. In any case, she’ll see him tomorrow, but the excitement from winning Penderghast its sixth championship title is dazing and all she wants to do is see him.

Eden reaches the door to her dorm with a sigh. Maybe Atlas is awake… The haze quickly clears up as she passes through the transparent blue door to the living room. In contrast to what Eden expected, the room is brightly lit, and a cup of tea sits on the coffee table, accompanied by several thick tomes and a pair of reading glasses.

Evidently, those are traces of Beckett, and Eden finds herself feeling giddy.

The sound of rushing water ceases as her bedroom door swings open. Beckett pokes his head out, a winning smile on his face as he glides across the room to greet her. Even during the late hours of night he’s handsome. Hair ruffled, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a light blush coloring his cheeks.

“I thought I heard you come in. Welcome home, my love,” Beckett says. He cups Eden’s cheeks and plants a soft kiss on her lips.

“I can’t believe you waited for me…” Eden murmurs, melting into his touch. His hands are warm on her chilly skin, like a thick wool blanket on a winter day. It’s a blessed reprieve from the brisk, night air lingering on her skin.

A wave of fatigue washes over Eden, and her eyes flutter shut as Beckett peppers her face with kisses. She could fall asleep like this, standing with her face cupped in his hands.

“Of course I did,” he says, voice soft and low, “Come, the bath is ready.”

Eden hums in response, letting him guide her into the bathroom. Her dormitory bathroom isn’t fancy by any means, but Beckett wouldn’t be Beckett if he couldn’t find a way to spruce up the crummiest of spaces to offer Eden the best of the best. Multicolored globes of light gently bob about the room while heat rises from the bath. A mixture of chamomile and jasmine permeates the air, further clouding Eden’s mind with sleep.

She’s sluggish in removing her clothes, so much so that Beckett lends a hand. He helps her out of her sweats and undergarments, taking care to steady her so she doesn’t tumble into the bath. Eden settles in, using her forearms as a pillow for her face as she rests on the edge of the bathtub.

“I might fall asleep,” Eden says, glancing at Beckett as he takes a seat beside her.

He leans down to card his fingers through her hair. “You can sleep. I’ll wash you and take you to bed.”

“Thank you. Really. You didn’t have to wait for me, you know. Not worth it to mess up your sleep just to—”

“You’re worth everything, Eden. I’m happy to do this for you, truly. You haven’t a clue how happy I am to have you back, my love”—he drops his voice a tad, his tone teasing— “my little Thief champion. Congratulations. Let’s celebrate tomorrow when you’ve had plenty of rest.”

Eden relents with a small sigh, her eyelids growing heavy. She reaches for Beckett’s palm, pressing a chaste kiss to the skin. “I love you.”

- naturally, he goes to kamilah for advice. it’s apparent from the way he talks about MC that he’s serious about her. this is the first woman in god-knows-how-long who’s made him feel like he could love again.

- kamilah neither discourages or encourages the relationship, leaving the choice to adrian. she echoes his worries, reminding him of the potential trouble that a human knowing his true nature could bring. however, she also trusts his ability to keep his partner safe, as well as his judgment.

- adrian has a lot of things to mull over, but he takes care to not grow distant from MC.

- dinner dates are very common. whether it be at a swanky restaurant, adrian’s penthouse suite, or MC’s homey apartment—they always have a nice time enjoying each other’s company.

- it’s an intimate affair, especially if they’re cooking together. too often, they wind up messing up the dinner because they keep distracting each other and having to order takeout instead, which no one protests against.

- one night, adrian just decides to do it. he’s tired of making excuses about why they can’t have a picnic date under the afternoon sun or why he tastes like copper when they kiss sometimes.

- “i’m a vampire,” he says.

- and MC goes, “i kind of figured.”

- see, MC isn’t a vampire herself, but lily, her best friend is. so, MC knows a thing or two about them.

- “do you still want to be with me?” adrian asks. “even after knowing everything?” in that moment, waiting for MC’s answer, he’s extremely glad humans don’t possess enhanced senses like vampires do, or MC’s gonna hear his heart thundering in his chest.

- MC frowns, finding his question insanely foolish. she cups adrian’s face. “of course i still want to be with you. i would’ve bolted a long time ago if i wasn’t absolutely sure i wanted you in my life. we’re in this together now.”

- a giant weight lifts off of adrian’s shoulder.

- from that point on, they’re nothing but honest with each other. there’s no more secrets to keep.

- though… adrian still takes immense care to keep MC away from the vampire world. he tells her little of the council, and MC knows not to prod. they’re content like this.

- MC is just as protective of adrian. she puts up blackout curtains all over her place, exhorts him to not overwork, and offers to be his blood bag if he needs it. adrian always ensures to pepper her neck with extra kisses after feeding, which makes her squirm and laugh.

- it’s no secret adrian is loaded, so he spoils MC rotten whenever opportunity presents itself. trust MC has the most sumptuous anniversary gifts, ranging from antique rings to gorgeous lingerie sets.

- gift giving is nice, but nothing compares to quality time in their eyes. late-night boat rides along the grand canal, sight-seeing in paris, cuddling in a forest lodge… they’ve done it all.

OLIVER COCHRANE

You’ve done it this time.

Not only did your plan to rescue Edward from Admiral Cochrane’s clutches fail, but you’ve now put the whole crew at risk as Samuel saunters to their side, reporting the whereabouts of Charlie and the others to the navy men. Unfathomable fury burns within you, and you want nothing more than to sink a sword into his chest. Such a simple wish is hindered by the metal chains clamped around your wrists and the gun pointed to your temple.

Admiral Cochrane, as arrogant as ever, makes his way from behind the wall of soldiers to face you. He is followed by Oliver, who carries a heavy gaze in his eyes.

You turn away, not wanting to let him see you like this: chained up and at his father’s mercy, defenseless and one bullet away from death.

A foolish part of you hopes there is conflict brewing in his heart, that the one afternoon you shared in Tiburon was the start of something meaningful, but when you tentatively lift your head to look at him, you feel a stinging chill run down your spine. You can’t read him. At all. You don’t know what he’s thinking when he looks at you like that, like you’re some stranger, like this is the end.

The admiral is talking, no doubt blustering and boasting, but you hear no words. You can’t hear anything over Ginny’s loud sobs and Jonas’ booming voice barking for soldiers to release her. You think this is truly it, but then Admiral Cochrane hands Oliver a rifle and moves aside. Oliver takes his father’s place before you, and trains the firearm at your forehead.

That is truly it: Oliver being the person who kills you.

Are his hands shaking or is that an illusion caused by the tears in your eyes? Nonetheless, you level his steady gaze with a defiant one. You tilt your chin, as if challenging him. If he is going to end everything, you want him to memorize this look.

You blink and there is chaos around you. There’s a ringing in your ears and the smell of gunpowder in the air. Oliver faces away from you, rifle pointed at his father who has blood bubbling from his lips. The admiral is desperately clutching his chest, but it’s to no avail with how quickly the splotch of blood spreads across his body.

At once, Oliver drops the firearm and rushes to your side just as Charlie descends upon the navy ship with a throng of men.

“Oh my God, Oliver! Why would you—what—why?” You’re unable to put together a coherent sentence with the sudden rush of adrenaline tackling your senses, but Oliver understands. As he undoes your restraints, he looks at you with nothing but certainty in his eyes, and you understand.

No matter what, he chooses you. Always.

prompt: the leader of your enemy's crew is threatening to kill you, and your enemy is faced with a decision — it's either you or their crew. you think you're toast, but instead, without hesitation, your enemy stabs/shoots their leader. it will always be you.

ESTELA MONTOYA

There isn’t a sliver of space in Estela’s heart for anything else other than avenging her mother.

That’s what she has always believed in until she met you. Charming and caring, you look out for her when nobody else does. It was irritating in the beginning. You hardly know anything about her, yet you blindly extend your hand at every chance you get, offering help and comfort without the expectation of anything in return.

You’re so sincere, so good. Too good for her, Estela thinks. Without meaning to, she carves out a space within her heart just for you, and God, is that annoying.

Why would you do such a thing? Why would you show her kindness? Why would you make her feel like this?

Sharing a bed with you has only worsened everything. Estela can’t sleep, not when you’re an arm’s length away, not when she can smell the scent of your shampoo as you shift and turn in bed. Estela can’t stop the drumming in her heart. She can’t stop the incessant thoughts flooding her mind, thoughts of holding you close and carding her fingers through your hair. How stupid is that? She can’t do anything but instruct you to stay on your side of the mattress, lie on her side, face away from you, and will herself to sleep.

“Good night, Estela,” you whisper.

Estela’s eyes snap open, and she contemplates saying something back, but in less than a minute, she hears your breathing grow deep and even. Even so, she mumbles a ‘good night’ and shuts her eyes, letting sleep take her.

When she begins to stir in the morning, she burrows her head into the pillow, finding it difficult to toss aside the covers and climb out of bed. Estela is usually up and throwing on her clothes within minutes of waking, but today, she finds herself curling into the sheets. Her nose tickles, and she cracks open an eye.

Your face is tucked under her chin, not even minding that Estela’s hair is splayed out over the pillows and brushing up against your cheek. Estela has one arm curled protectively around you, and you have an arm slung over her waist. You’re still sleeping, slightly snoring from exhaustion, but Estela is awake. Wide awake, and unable to move. Unwilling to move. You startle Estela when you move in your sleep, pressing your face into her neck with a soft groan.

Along with her heartbeat, she feels your breaths against her throat, gentle and unabating. You’re alive and safe for now. On this mystery of an island, sticking to Estela’s side, such a thing may not be guaranteed in the future.

Would it be okay for her to have this? To have you?

As stealthy as she can be, Estela detangles from your hold and slips out of the hotel room. The moment she found herself feeling some semblance of love for you, she received her answer.

It would not be okay for her to have this, to have you.

prompt: sharing a bed with your enemy, and being told ''stay on your side or i'll set this whole bed on fire'' only to wake up the next day with your enemy's arms wrapped around you.

TYRIL STARFURY

You’d be lying if you say you aren’t jealous of Tyril’s prominent position in Undermount and natural talent when it comes to magic and politics. He is at the forefront of the elven city, a feat that is exceptionally impressive at his young age.

You would give anything to be as gifted as he is, but you would give much more to keep that thought to yourself. Coming from a house with little influence, you don’t have much, and your dignity is one of the few things you want to keep.

You and Tyril circle one another like predator stalking prey, footsteps light and alert. The training grounds have emptied out, save for the two of you. You’re unsure who moves first, but the next time you blink, you’re trading blows, the sharp sound of steel against steel resonating in the air. Tyril is stronger than you are, but you’re more agile, dodging and returning his attacks with relative ease.

Your luck runs short when twenty minutes have passed and you’re still going back and forth. Tyril has picked up on your fighting patterns, and soon enough, he backs you into a corner, forcing you to go on the defensive.

Every time you train—whether it’s with fists, bows, or longswords—he bests you, rendering you unable to move, lying on the ground as you ache from overexerting your muscles. Just thinking about his retreating form as he leaves you alone to catch your breath makes your face hot with frustration.

Without meaning to, your magic flares up and imbues your next strike, sending Tyril stumbling several steps back. You falter when you see the split second look of surprise on his face. Still reeling from what you’ve done, Tyril catches you off guard easily.

One second you’re standing and about to apologize. The next, you’re lying on your back, hands pinned to the ground, barely a breath away from Tyril, whose body weight is heavy atop yours.

Anything you plan to say dies on your tongue right then and there as you realize how close he is. Tyril looks like a stranger. Growing up together, you should be familiar with his looks, but you’re not. You don’t notice the faint freckles and tiny scars scattered across his face until today, and you wish it could’ve stayed that way, because they make him endearing, and you hate to think of Tyril Starfury as someone endearing.

“You’re angry,” Tyril notes. Dark chunks of hair swipe against your face, and you turn away, hating the fact that he is right.

Your cheeks begin to grow warm again, but you’re unsure if it’s from his words or your close proximity to him. “You’re heavy. Get off of me.”

Tyril does get off of you. You two sit side by side afterwards, and in the newfound silence, he asks, “Why won’t you look at me?”

“What is there to look at?” you return, trying and failing to mask the bitter tone in your voice. “You have all of Undermount’s attention already.”

“It seems I never have yours.”

You resist the urge to snap at him. Does he believe the world revolves around him?

“You never look at me,” he continues, “no matter what I do.”

You look at him. “What does that matter?” It’s true you seldom look at him, but that’s because you see your shortcomings in him. He has what you don’t. The less time you spend looking at him, the more time you have to devote yourself to mastering magic and elven politics.

You can’t make sense of the expression on Tyril’s face, and you don’t try to. Was he expecting something from you? He looks as though he’s been delivered crushing news, unable to say anything in response.

Mirroring what you do best, Tyril looks away.

prompt: fighting with your enemy, only to end up on the ground, with their body pressing into yours, your hands pinned to the ground.

MONA

Fuck, that hurts. That’s the first thing you think of as the second bullet pierces your body. The second thing you think of is how lame you look in front of Mona. You just got shot, not once but twice in front of her. If you make it out alive, she’ll hold this incident over your head for who knows how long. Though, you may be spared from that fate with how quickly you’re bleeding out.

Where the hell did the bullets hit anyway? Donning an all black attire robs your ability to determine where all the blood is seeping out from, but judging by the way the right side of your body stings… you can deduce it’s somewhere on that side. Shit. You don’t feel it as you drop to the ground. I should probably put pressure on the wounds, you think. You can’t move. Your body isn’t listening, regardless of how much you want it to.

Then, a familiar bronze jacket is shoved into your side. Mona hunches over you, applying pressure to your wounds dutifully.

“Ow, Mona, easy on all the jabbing!” you hiss. “Oh, God. That hurts like a bitch.”

“Shut up and save your energy. The ambulance is coming.”

“Ugh, forget it,” you mutter, pushing at her shoulder weakly, “just go. The police will get here before the rig. You have to go.”

“You just got shot twice,” she reminds you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I kinda deserved it.”

“Yeah, you kind of did,” Mona replies dryly.

“Ouch. Now that hurts.”

“You think this is funny?” Mona lifts her head and you see, for the first time, that her eyes are filled with rage and fear. She’s no longer bantering. She’s genuinely angry.

“Look,” you reason, “I’m probably not gonna make it out of this. Just go already, okay? I won’t hold it against you, just—”

A cough wracks your body, and you actually feel blood spurting out of you, wetting your clothes and dying Mona’s hands red. At this point, you’re unsure if she’s even listening. Mona keeps pressing her jacket into your wounds, though it doesn’t do much. She realizes that, and the haunted look on her face breaks your heart.

“I love you.”

Plain and simple. Mona said it.

Yeah, you and Mona have your moments, but coming from rival crews, love is the last thing you expect Mona to feel for you. You’ve brushed shoulders on the same jobs countless times, but more often than not, the two of you wind up laughing it out at a diner, so maybe love was inevitable. But in this cruel life you were forced into, where every man is for themself, perhaps this is inevitable as well.

This, meaning watching your own blood soak your clothes, the concrete, and the girl who just spat out the three words she has been terrified to say.

“I won’t ever forgive you if you die right now,” Mona says, “I’ll kill you myself if you do. You hear me? I can't lose you. Keep your eyes open.” Her voice is trembling, her usual bravado gone from seeing you like this: bloodstained and unmoving, minutes from passing out from blood loss.

God, you want to vomit. Not because of what Mona just said, but because you feel so dizzy, so tired. You put on a smile for her anyway, saying, “I can’t take you out on a date if we… if we both end up behind bars. Wait for me, okay? Soon as I get out, I’ll find you.”

“I’ve been to prison before, and it doesn’t scare me.”

Now, you’re the one to grow disgruntled, snapping, “But it scares me. If you end up behind bars because of me, I’d be so… mad, so I mean it. Go.”

“You think I’ll be able to live with myself if I just up and bolt right now?” Mona snaps. “Leave you here to die?”

“Mona, please… please go.” You know you won’t win this one, but you need to try. You need to… stay awake. You need to tell her you feel the same. She needs to know. You’ll tell her when you catch your breath. You breathe in and out slowly, but you find that taking in air gets more difficult with every passing second.

Mona is speaking to you. Her lips are moving and you feel wetness on your cheeks, but you’re certain you’re not crying, so it must mean she is. Yet, you can’t see it.

You can’t see much of anything at all.

prompt: you've just been shot, you're bleeding out, and your enemy is freaking the fuck out, dropping the ''i love you, i can't lose you'' card, begging you not to close your eyes.

COLT KANEKO: colt (whether he meant it or not, you truly don’t even remember) had said that he would forget his own name before he forgets you. right now, as you gaze across the dimly lit club, features alight with emotion as you see him, you fiercely hope that indeed, he has forgotten his own name. four years have gone by, and your reunion wasn’t supposed to be like this, surrounded by sweaty bodies and thrumming music. you feel gross. does he feel the same? you don’t know. he seems fine. he seems like he’s enjoying it—smiling as he kisses another person, hands dropping to their waist to pull them flush against his body.

HAZEL NGUYEN: you don’t become anything more with hazel other than a good lay. it’s unfortunate, but the same argument stands: she simply isn’t looking for a relationship. that’s fine. you don’t care. as long as you can press her body into the sheets, pepper her skin with kisses and bruises, and take her out to dinner afterwards, it’s fine. it’s not fine when you amble up to her hotel room and hear a thud against the door followed by breathy whispers and sounds of zippers being unzipped. there are others, you know that. hazel tells you. still, it hurts. you toss the bouquet of flowers into a trash can and trudge back to the elevator.

MAL VOLARI: mal, the magnificent. mal, the great adventurer. throughout his life, mal volari has earned many nicknames for his courageous spirit and his adventurous nature. one name that is only reserved for you to call is mine. mal is yours. he loves you and you love him. you love him so dearly you’re unsure how to tell him to stop trekking to remote caverns or mountains to retrieve ancient artifacts. it worries you, but that’s his passion, and you hate to be the person to tell him to stop doing the thing he loves for you. one morning, he kisses your forehead. still bleary from sleep, your grumble a halfhearted farewell in response. he promises to come back. the door closes. that had been months ago. where is he? he’ll come back soon, won’t he?

NIA ELLARIOUS: it’s not subtle. the way your eyes flit to tyril every time his back is turned to you. nia sees it. the warmth and affection in your gaze, the upwards curve of your lips when he speaks to you. a foreign feeling bubbles within her, one that feels unpleasant to say the least. jealousy is what it is, nia realizes, when she watches the two of you huddle together. she can only hope, that one day, you would turn your head in her direction and look at her with even just one ounce of something other than friendship.

ADRIAN RAINES: adrian said, with utmost earnesty, that he loves you so much it hurts. he was right. all you see in those warm eyes of his is pain. and something more. hatred, is it? your lover has come to hate you, it appears. but why? you simply don’t understand. you have everything and more at your fingertips, but adrian doesn’t seem to appreciate that. is he jealous that you’ve surpassed him in assets? is it because you now want something other than him, something more. more to conquer, more… power.

The silence is much too familiar to the lone figure standing in the throne room, gazing out of the stained glass windows at the spread of well trimmed greenery. Having spent half of her life in the library transcribing hundreds of pieces of literature, silence grew to bore her, spurring her mind to stray from the task at hand.

Hera isn’t quite plagued by wandering thoughts to have slinked out of bed and crept away so as to avoid disturbing her lover with her tossing and turning. It’s a simple case of restlessness, what with the anniversary of her coronation approaching. There’s much to reflect on her time as queen, and the same question—a question that has been lurking in the back of her head since the moment she took up the crown—returns to her mind.

Willing her body to stop shivering at the brisk air, Hera hugs herself, rubbing the palms of her hands along her arms. A moment later, a pair of arms slip around her waist, and Hera would’ve jolted if not for the familiar scratch of scrubble against her cheek.

Kayden noses at her jaw, planting a gentle kiss on her pulse point. Hera leans into him, and silently, he turns her around to envelop her in a proper embrace. A content sigh leaves Hera’s lips with his body pressed against hers. An instant warmth blankets her, warming up her nightgown clad body.

“You have that look on your face again,” Kayden comments. With a large, calloused hand, he strokes Hera’s cheek, earning a huff of soft laughter.

“What look?”

“Like you’re carrying the weight of the entire kingdom on your shoulders,” Kayden says, kissing the space between her eyebrows where there’s a furrow. He says it like it’s an astute observation, which it is, but he carries a humorous lilt as he speaks, almost as if teasing her for being predictable.

Hera relaxes her features upon his indication, however, but her murmured response still carries a weary tone, “I am, Kayden.”

“You have the King’s support, your sister, Hunter… you have me, Hera,” Kayden reminds, “You needn’t shoulder your burdens alone.”

At Kayden’s reassurance, Hera’s worries subdues a little. That’s right, she isn’t alone anymore. She isn’t the lowly scribe who spends hours upon hours scribbling into parchment anymore nor is she the inexperienced lady of House Aster contending for the throne.

She is Queen Hera of Cordonia, a title earned through hard effort and valor, and she has a circle of trusted friends.

Hera musters a nod and a small smile, the heavy feeling in her stomach not entirely expelled. Kayden, of course, knows this, offering, “Come back to bed with me.” Hera accepts without a word, and with intertwined fingers, Kayden leads her out of the chilly throne room.

“Tell me,” Kayden says, “what makes my queen worry so? How can I remedy your troubles?”

He looms over her, entrapping her between his arms and subsequently blocking a ray of soft sunshine from her eyes. Hera tips her head back, allowing Kayden more access as his lips attach to her throat, peppering the area with kisses. He moves lower, pressing a kiss to her exposed collarbone and hooks one finger onto her nightgown, tugging it open.

The sheer cloth slips from Hera’s shoulder and she settles herself on her elbows, meeting Kayden in another kiss as he works her gown off her upper body.

“You’re doing a pretty good job right now,” Hera is barely able to breathe out against his mouth, chest thudding with anticipation.

Kayden gives an appreciative huff of laughter, taking her hand and helping her up until she’s sitting upright. Hera blinks at him, an inquisitive look on her face as she ponders what Kayden plans to do next. He reverses their positions, moving to lay himself on the mattress and beckoning her close.

“Come here,” he says.

Hera straddles him, hands splayed across his chest. She takes this as the opportunity to feel along his pecs, his abdominal muscles, blushing when he chuckles and whispers with a tilt of his head, “Up here.”

Oh.

Hera obliges, slipping off her panties and carefully scooting herself up along Kayden’s body until she’s settled over his face. “Are you sure?” she asks, as if Kayden’s eyes aren’t alight with desire.

“Yes,” he confirms, strong arms looping around Hera’s thighs.

Kayden is much more gentle today, experimentally lapping and sucking her in slow, deliberate movements. Hera’s pleasure is amplified tenfold, especially when his thumb moves to her clit, massaging the bundle of nerves with enough pressure to draw out a quiet, broken moan from her. Her composure slips away in an instant, and she resorts to gripping onto the headboard to anchor herself.

With a shuddering breath, Hera adjusts herself so she can transfer more weight to her knees to avoid crushing Kayden, but he holds her down insistently, pushing his tongue into her. Hera yelps, eyes darting to the door in fear. It’s still early morning, but she cannot guarantee that anybody isn’t awake.

Just as she had predicted, she hears quick footsteps approach her bedchamber and a soft voice inquiring, “Is everything alright, Your Highness?”

Kayden, being Kayden, refuses to let Hera off the hook easily. He teases his tongue along her folds gently, reaching around to plunge two fingers into her slick cunt. He’s not knuckles deep inside her, but the slight curl of his digits paired with his exploring tongue is more than enough to spur her to her end.

“I’m—I’m okay. Enjoy your morning.” Hera musters.

“Yes, Your Highness. Please ring for me if you need anything.”

“Yes! Uh, I will.”

The sound of footsteps grow silent as the maidservant disappears down the corridor, and Hera pants, “You’re horribly mean.”

Kayden quirks a brow in challenge, proving Hera right with a long hum that sends vibrations along her body and making her cry, “Ohh, god…”

Her white-knuckled grip on the headboard is no longer enough to keep her from buckling. She rocks against Kayden’s face gently and he lets her. He lets her use him as she pleases. So as long as he lives, he will give everything Hera wishes for.

Hera reaches climax with a stifled moan, thighs trembling uncontrollably around Kayden’s face. He strokes her skin lightly and retracts his fingers, pleased to see she had a good time.

Hera scoots down from his face, struggling to catch her breath as Kayden sits upright, holds her to his chest, and begins rubbing along her back soothingly.

“Feeling okay?” he asks.

“Mhm…” Hera confirms.

She’s not yet sated, however. Moments later, she finds the hem of Kayden’s shirt and tugs the loose cloth over his head. He looks up at her expectedly, letting her decide their next move.

“Can I ride you?” she asks.

“Anything you would like,” he says, “I’ll give.”

Hera lowers her head to meet Kayden in a deep kiss in silent gratitude. She helps him out of the rest of his undergarments until he’s bare and positions herself over his length. Kayden is fully erect, and he rubs her hipbone encouragingly as she sinks onto his tip. The mixture of slick and spit between her legs is ample lubricant and in one swift move, she bottoms out.

Their hips meet with a squelch and Hera blushes. Kayden, on the other hand, is too overcome with the sensation of his lover wrapped around his cock to care.

“I’m gonna go slow, okay?” Hera mumbles.

Kayden nods in agreement, leaning against the headboard to get a good view. He greedily drinks in the sight of his queen atop him, dark eyes roaming from her intoxicated expression to her bouncing tits. With one hand, he cups her breast, giving it a gentle squeeze before pinching her nipple. Hera tenses around him, squeezing him delightfully and drawing out a deep groan from his throat.

“You’re perfect,” he praises, “So good…”

“Ahh, Kayden,” she whines. Hera leans forward and wraps her arms around his neck, burrowing her face in the crook of his face. Truth be told, her back is cramping up, and she’s hoping the change in posture might help.

Kayden only takes this as the opportunity to thrust up into her. Hera arches beautifully against him, gasping little moans right into Kayden’s ear, which winds him up even more.

“Hng, I’m gonna—” Hera’s next breath lodges in her throat as Kayden grinds his hips up to hers. She spills over the edge instantly, a flash of white bursting across her vision.

Kayden assumes a unrelenting pace, chasing his own release, but he finds the time to plant a kiss on her shoulder. Hera lowers herself to meet him, uncaring of the sounds their joining bodies make. It’s wet, it’s loud, it’s nothing the palace staff haven’t heard before (though Hera knows they pretend they’re unaware).

Her whole body is tense at this point—thighs clenched and abdomen tight, and soon, Kayden bucks up one last time and pulls out with a breathy curse. Hera completely slumps over him, and thankfully Kayden is able to bear her weight. He even chuckles at her blissed out state.

“Doing okay?” he asks.

“Uhhng,” she grunts.

“Wait here for a moment. I’ll draw us a bath.”

Ten minutes later, they’re settled in warm water and bubbles. Kayden’s arms are curled protectively around her torso, just how she likes it. She settles her hands atop his, fingers playing idly with his as she asks, “Kayden, are you happy?”

Kayden is befuddled by the sudden question, but nonetheless, he answers earnestly, “Yes, how can I not be?”

Hera twists around to face him, taking a deep breath before beginning, “We spoke of running away and opening a bakery, but… one year later, we’re running a kingdom with haughty nobles everywhere. Did we make the right decision? Are you truly happy with—”

“Hera…” Kayden says, his tone gentle yet firm, “I’m perfectly happy. Haughty nobles and all. No matter where we are, I will always be content because I have you.” There is complete sincerity in his voice and his eyes, and Hera smiles. Kayden is truly wonderful. She doesn’t deserve him.

“Are you happy?” Kayden questions.

Hers mulls over the question for a moment. Yes, she supposes she is happy. There’s nothing to be unhappy about. The kingdom is flourishing, the royal Houses are all in support of her decisions, and most importantly, the common folks are satisfied. A part of her still wonders what life would've been like if she had run away with Kayden, but deep down, she knows she would never forgive herself if that were to happen.

“I am content, as well,” Hera finally answers, “but if I ever change my mind, let’s fake our deaths and run off to the countryside to live in a small cottage.”

Kayden genuinely smiles and nods. “If that is what you wish, I will oblige.”

They burst into a fit of quiet laughter and share a quick kiss before Hera resettles herself against Kayden’s chest. The warmth of the bathroom muddles her mind, and once again, she begins to nod off.

“You can sleep,” Kayden mumbles into her ear, “I’ll dry you off.”

“I’d look like a prune by the time I get out,” Hera murmurs.

“Only for a bit.”

Hera laughs, affection blooming in her chest as Kayden kisses her cheek.

“Let me take care of you,” he says.

“You’ve done enough of that today,” Hera says, “Your queen is very satisfied with your performance.”

Kayden cracks a smile. “Does this lowly one get a reward in return?”

“Naturally, after we finish bathing.”

“I shall anticipate my prize.”

tags: @choicesficwriterscreations

- he hasn’t congratulated me yet, MC thinks, pouting ever so slightly, and who is it that he’s speaking to? they sure look happy...

- MC should be mingling. they should be celebrating with their teammates, laughing and enjoying the party, but no—they’re sulking by the buffet table, mustering smiles at anyone who comes up to congratulate them for the win.

- zeph bounds over, grinning, with two drinks in hand. he hands one over to MC, who’s almost too distracted to accept. he nudges them, teasing, “you lovesick puppy... go get him! ask him to dance.”

- with a small push from zeph, MC is off, striding across the party to ask beckett to dance.

- the person who beckett is speaking to playfully slaps his chest and steps closer, dusting away a couple of stray hairs from his forehead. they even settle a hand on beckett’s arm.

- seeing this, MC nearly trips over their feet. we’ve hugged, we’ve kissed. does it mean nothing to beckett?

- MC is painfully embarrassed, even more so when the person beckett is speaking to notices their presence and loops their arms around beckett’s neck, grinning sweetly as they do so.

- this is how they wanna play it? fine, MC thinks.

- as expected, beckett moves away instantly, clearing his throat and stating, “i have a partner already. please don’t do that again.” and he excuses himself, stepping around a dancing couple until he comes face to face with a seething MC.

- the smile that splits across beckett’s face is dazzling. he engulfs MC in an embrace, breaking apart when he realizes what he’s done. “that was brash, i apologize! i shouldn’t have—”

- MC only shakes their head, tugging him back into the hug. “no, don’t apologize. dance with me?” i like it when you hold me, MC almost wants to say.

- beckett accepts, and together, they idly drift across the dance floor.

- “so...” MC begins, “who was that?”

- “a family friend,” beckett says, “i only gave them the time of day because their family had connections with mine. what you saw was...”

- “beckett, you don’t need to explain yourself to me. i’m not... jealous or anything.”

- beckett might’ve believed MC if he didn’t know them so well, if they didn’t try to avoid eye contact with him whilst grumbling.

- “you could at the very least try to sound convincing,” beckett says. he fails at concealing his giddy smile, earning another sheepish groan from MC.

- “don’t get cocky, beckett harrington.”

- beckett laughs, tugging MC closer by the waist. he leans in to whisper against their ear, “i like it when you’re jealous.”

- “yeah? you’ll like this even better.” MC curls one hand into beckett’s brown locks, capturing his lips in a kiss so fierce that it nearly knocks him off his feet. MC’s grip on beckett’s hair is unusually tight, but he likes it, so much so that he groans into their mouth, matching their fervor with his own.

- somewhere in the crowd, there’s the faint sound of glass smashing into concrete. MC cracks open an eye, smiling into the kiss as beckett’s friend haphazardly cleans up the broken glass they dropped.

tags: @mm2305 @holystxne @simpforbeckett @itsjustwinter @theclassycandy @warblerlo @iufilms @bluebellot

- if she was ever in a bad head space, however, and needed reassurance, beckett would do his damndest to show her that she is loved.

- he’d bring her close, cupping her cheeks and looking her in the eye, sincerely letting her know just how important she is to him.

- beckett makes it known to her that he would always be there for her, no matter what. after all, he is the same man who opened a portal in order to save the person he loves. nothing could ever keep them apart.

- he would also blame himself a bit. what could he do to become a better boyfriend? how could he improve? why didn’t he notice sooner that she was feeling this way? oh, he’d nitpick at himself until his girlfriend smiles and tugs him close.

- “just hold me for now... please?” she’d ask.

- beckett stops his ramble, nodding and mustering a small smile. if that’s what she wants, then he’ll make it happen. he’ll do anything to cheer her up.

- he’s extra attentive on days like those, running her a bath or ordering her favorite dessert as a treat. even after his girlfriend protests about not needing anything special done for her, beckett still wants to spoil her.

- after she seems to be in a better headspace, beckett would remind her once again that he loves her and that he would always be there for her whenever she needs. his eyes are full of adoration and genuineness, and anyone can tell that he means it 100%.

tags: @mm2305 @holystxne @simpforbeckett @itsjustwinter @theclassycandy @warblerlo @iufilms @bluebellot

- he’s not going to forbid her from fighting, he’s only going to join her.

- together, they’re an excellent team, working efficiently alongside each other to clear enemies.

- they fight back to back in order to keep an eye on one another. if someone wanted to get at MC, they’d have to get through cal. vice versa.

- after the fight, it’s more likely they’ll walk away a couple of scratches. nothing too serious, but it still stings.

- luckily for both of them, MC is good with her hands and knows her way around bandaging people up.

- cal would lay in her lap as she dabs ointment onto his forehead, feeling her heart clench in worry when he winces. afterwards, she plants a kiss on his face, raking her fingers through his hair and caressing his cheek until he dozes off.

- if MC was the one who’d been injured more, cal would seethe, firstly. he’s still tense when they return home, but then MC smiles up at him, wrapping her arms around his taut body and reminding him that they’re okay.

- cal is protective in their daily life as well. he’s really attentive to their surroundings being a werewolf and all, so if there’s any sign of trouble, he’ll know it before MC does.

- cal’s a wonderful boyfriend because of his attentiveness. when they’re walking on the streets, he’s always walking on the outer side, closer to traffic. if he notices that MC is shivering, he’ll offer up his jacket, since he runs warm easily.

- tatum is looking over MC at a respectable distance while she hangs out with dionne at the bar, and before the guy is even hitting on her, tatum is already boring holes into him.

- it’s not that he gets jealous easily, it’s that after all, MC is the first daughter of rutherland and tatum would sooner lick the concrete ground than let harm come to her.

- tatum watches carefully as the guy leans into the bar, a dumb smirk on his face as he tries to flirt with MC. she doesn’t play into his flirting, instead mustering a smile and returning to her conversation with dionne.

- the guy doesn’t know how to take a hint. he continually pesters MC, asking her why she’s here and if she’s single. it’s obvious MC doesn’t want to speak to this man, so tatum’s moves from his post, ready to step in.

- but dionne’s quicker. she tells off the guy with ease and tugs MC away from him, throwing a scowl over her shoulder as they make a beeline for the dance floor.

- alright. crisis averted. thank god for dionne. MC is safe. tatum relaxes.

- not even a minute later, the guy from the bar has tracked down MC and dionne on the dance floor. while MC is dancing, swaying her hips and whirling around, the guy comes up behind her.

- and that’s about as far as he gets because tatum is stepping in, separating the guy from MC.

- the guy goes for the clueless act, spouting nonsense like, “what? i wasn’t even flirting with her. she’s not even that hot. i’m leaving anyway!” good riddance.

- tatum checks up on MC, apologizing for not stepping in earlier. MC only smiles, wrapping her arms around tatum and asking for a dance.

- “i’m on duty,” tatum says.

- “you forget you’re also my boyfriend,” MC says, pecking him on the cheek, “one dance won’t hurt.”

“Oh—Beckett…”

Eden is practically begging as she watches Beckett untuck himself from his boxers, but that becomes a lie when he runs his tip up and down her slick folds, earning a quiet moan from her. Now, she’s truly begging, jutting out her backside and babbling ‘please’ and ‘hurry’ like a mantra. Her legs may very well give out at any moment and someone could easily pop into the room right now, but she doesn’t care, not when the reward is higher than the risk.

“Come on,” Eden mumbles, “We only have ten minutes before they send out a search party for us.”

Beckett laughs softly at this. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it, I promise.”

Beckett pushes in carefully, one of his hands reaching around to knead Eden’s clothed breast while his mouth plants a kiss on her nape. He’s barely halfway in when Eden releases a strangled mewl. Her grip on the velvety curtain tightens, but she revels in the slight tinge of pain that comes with pleasure.

Eden is able to take him so well usually, but that was, of course, the result of Beckett working her open until she’s flushing and glistening. Unfortunately, they don’t have the luxury of taking their time, exploring each other’s bodies. As Beckett continues easing himself in, a cacophony of orchestral music and muffled laughter floats through the closed door, causing Eden to tense up.

“God, you feel…” Beckett’s breath catches, and he groans, pausing his movements. “This won’t do…”

“Give me a minute,” Eden whimpers, “I can—I can take—”

Beckett fully unsheathes himself and turns Eden around by the hips. He backs her against the window, dipping one finger into her. Eden grips onto his shoulders at his quick movements, panting into his neck when he adds another digit. Beckett curls and prods his fingers the way she likes it, lips slotting against Eden’s to quiet her down.

“You like this better, don’t you?” Beckett whispers, pulling away to gauge her reaction. He’s pleased to find Eden nodding and gently rocking her hips, too caught up in the pleasure to give him a verbal answer.

“Good,” Beckett mumbles, circling her clit with his thumb. Eden jerks involuntarily and lets out a moan as he adds, “You feel ready…”

“I am,” Eden breathes, teeth sinking into her bottom lip when Beckett lifts one of her legs. She wraps it around his hip instinctively and watches as he pushes into her once more.

tags: @mm2305 @holystxne @simpforbeckett @itsjustwinter @theclassycandy @warblerlo @iufilms (lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any future beckett fics/other works in the replies <3)