So, Grimm fandom, what do we think about Diana's paternity? I know the show pretty much runs with Sean Renard as the father, but there's no definite evidence that it wasn't Eric. In fact, when we see Adalind with the pregnancy test, it's seems like it's within a day or two of her pushing herself on Sean. It's often difficult to pin down timelines for tv shows, but it would have to be significantly later than the day or two, even week or two that it seems for a normal human pregnancy test to show positive.
It's always possible that the bit we see of her with the test was meant to be a flash forward and they just didn't make it clear with a "2 months later" or whatever. Probably because they wanted to keep us guessing. Or maybe because they weren't sure which way they wanted to go yet.
But the other thing is that while it only takes once, there was just the one night with Sean versus what had to be many more with Eric. It's extremely likely that getting pregnant was very much part of Adalind's plan and I doubt she cared who the father was as long as he was royal. I wouldn't put it past her to already know or strongly suspect she was pregnant when she got to Portland and pushing herself on Renard was mostly about keeping her options as wide as possible. That said, she might well bring it up during the whole black claw arc when Sean went full dark side. Of course, she also might not because what difference would it make? Black Claw wouldn't care, Sean probably wouldn't believe her and it would just remind her new friends what a manipulative liar she'd been.
Ultimately, I'm not sure it makes any material difference, since Eric died months before the birth. Sean would still be the closest living thing to a father as Diana's uncle. She clearly accepts him as her dad. I feel like Diana would probably know which brother is directly responsible for her, but I can also see her deciding it doesn't matter because she wants a dad more than an uncle.
It's just one of those details I can't help but wonder about even if it doesn't really change anything. So what do we think?
I'll make it a poll, but please discuss.
Who's Diana's bio dad?
Sean Renard
Eric Renard
Who cares?
It WAS Eric, but Diana didn't like that and used her freaky powers to change it
I can't decide
Both somehow? Royals and hexenbiests are weird, so why not?
Relationship: Sean Renard x Reader, Eric Renard x Reader
Fandom: Grimm
Request: No
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Mentions of Pregnancy, Based off of Something Blue by VOILÀ
Word Count: 2,829
Main Masterlist: Here
Grimm Masterlist: Here
Summary: Relationship of old, relationship of new, a dress that is borrowed, and someone is blue.
“If anyone can find just cause as to why these to should not be joined together in holy matrimony, may you speak now, or forever hold your peace.” Her eyes scanned the crowd, before landing on a man who sat in the back of the cathedral. He shifted in his set, and sat up straighter as he caught her gaze. Green eyes met hers, and her brow furrowed ever so slightly as to not draw the attention of her groom, who was holding her hands tightly in his. The man at the back let his mouth open and close several times before standing , and shouting into the silence.
“I object.”
Three Months Earlier…
“Dearest, we need to finish these wedding invitations and get them out today.” A feminine accented voice rang through the study. Every book in here was as old as she, if not older. The man at the desk raised his head from his papers to where she sat surrounded by papers of her own, wax seals and envelopes. He stood, and rounded the desk to come stand near his fiancé.
“My dear, how do you feel about a quick little trip across the pond?” Eric asked his fiancé that sat there.
“What do you mean? We don’t have much time to get ready for the wedding. What business do you have in America?” She questioned, setting down the wedding invitation in her hands.
“I wish to deliver a special invitation in person to someone there. As a matter of fact, I wish for you to do it.” This had her attention; Eric Renard did not care to be anywhere near that country.
“Whatever you would like, dearest. Who is this person?” She inquired, turning back to her invitations.
“My brother. Sean.” Her hands stopped. It had been years since she had heard that name. She did not even know that her fiancé was talking to the man. turning towards the prince, the woman could not help the feeling and look of confusion that washed over her.
“Sean? You want to invite him to the wedding?” Her tone was full of ridiculous intention. But Eric simply sat on the space of couch next to her and cradled her face in his hands.
“No, my dear. I want you to invite him to the wedding,” he held her in place as he spoke, “when we were children, I dreamed of having you at my side at the alter. I wanted to show my dearest brother that I had won.” It was then she was reminded that she was not the love of Eric’s life, but yet, a trophy. She would become a trophy for him to parade around, and languish in a loveless marriage for the rest of her days.
“Of course,” she agreed without enthusiasm, “when shall we leave for America?” Her fiancé patted her cheeks gently and disengaged himself from her. Eric went back to his desk and pulled out some documents.
“Tonight. Pack enough for a few days. We won’t be staying long.” And with that, he was out of the room. Finally, having a chance to be away from him, she breathed a sigh of relief. Being near the royal was suffocating, to say the least. He was paranoid to put it mildly. But, he abandoned her task in favor of going to pack her bags for their weekend getaway to America.
The flight there was completely uneventful. Smooth skies,and an equally smooth landing, with a red carpet being rolled out leading to their car that was awaiting them. After he helped her down the stairs, Eric slipped her hand to his elbow and pulled his phone from his pocket. It was not but a moment longer, as they walked down the carpet, that he began speaking.
“Sean,” she heard and tried not to show that she was eagerly listening to the conversation, “well I decided that I would invite you out for dinner while we’re here. Yes, here. I’m in Portland. Well, I think a certain lady would love for you to join us for dinner. She has something to ask you. Tonight, my suite at the Gregory. See you then, brother.” Eric ended the phone call right as they got to the car, and he helped his fiancé into the vehicle first, before joining her. Driving out of the airway, and towards the city, her thoughts wandered.
Last time she had seen the younger of the two brothers, she was still in school. Never did she think that her life would turn out the way that it had. She never thought that her life would be stuck in the position that she was. The further they went, the longer her thoughts droned on. Soon, they shifted to Sean. What did he look like? Did he still have the same gorgeous sage eyes that he once captivated her with as children or did they change over the years? Her fingers fiddled with a locket in her pocket, worried that she would lose it before they arrived at their destination.
The hotel was grand and stunning, definitely something she would expect out of her lover. Brilliant white marble floors and beams. Striking red carpets and drapes to clash beautifully with the white. And small golden accents to highlight both colors. Their suite over looked the Willamette river, which provided her some comfort. There was something unexplainable about the serenity of water. She passed her time with putting away her things, while Eric ordered enough food for the three of them, and made the final preparations. But nothing could prepare her for the sound of a door opening and closing while an unknown voice drifted through the air.
“Eric.” It clipped, and it made her breath stop in her chest.
“Sean. Come on, bro. Let’s eat.” He called, clapping the younger man on the shoulder.
“Darling!” Eric barked, waiting for his fiancé to make her entrance. She shook ever so slightly but followed his command, and made her appearance. If Sean was shocked to see her after all these years, he made no show of it. She, on the other hand, was not as disciplined as him. Her shock caused her mouth to gape open slightly and her eyes to go wide. She could hear him say her name, and it barely cut in over the sound of blood rushing through her ears.
“Sean. It’s good to see you.” She called, fearing that if she stood any closer to the man, she would lose all sense of propriety.
“It’s good to see you.” He answered, making her astutely aware of the accent less voice he used.
“Well, now that that’s out of the way way, I’m starving.” Ever the one to find some way to make it about him, Eric pulled their attention back to him and what they were supposed to be doing. The older prince held out the chair for his fiancé, and sat down across from his brother. Everyone began to eat tentatively, until Sean broke the awkward silence.
“What is it you asked me here for?” He cut right to the chase. Her hand paused in its place of bringing food to her mouth, while Eric simply dropped his fork, and took another drink of wine.
“I’m sure by now you have heard of our engagement.” Eric boasted, placing his hand on his fiancé’s thigh.
“I have. Congratulations.” Sean answered politely, noting how tense she seemed next to his older brother.
“Darling,” Eric drawled out, “don’t you have something for Sean?” It was phrased like a question, but everyone could hear that it was not. She nodded obediently, and held out a small rectangular piece of paper.
“An invitation for the wedding. We do hope that you’ll come.” Sean accepted it from her, and it took everything in him to not allow his facade to fail as their fingers brushed.
“Your highness?” Someone interrupted. Eric groaned and stood, buttoning his coat.
“I’ll be right back.” He placed a kiss to the hairline of his fiancé. Soon, it was just the forgotten prince and his brother’s fiancé in the area. Sean watched her for a moment, before reaching a hand out for her to hold.
“I can’t believe you two are getting married.” He admitted, his eyes downcast.
“Believe me, I can’t either. And not for the reason you probably think.” She, too, admitted.
“What do you mean?” Sean inquired, setting the invitation down on the table with their dinners.
“Eric wants me for a trophy. He’s not doing this for love. Then again, very few royal marriages are out of love.” Her mood turned sour.
“I remember how we used to compete as children for your hand. Guess we found out who won in the end.” There was nothing joyful about this conversation, but it needed to be said.
“Sean, I waited.” Her statement made the prince perk up.
“I waited for so long for you to return. But you never did. I could never find out where you had gone to. No one would tell me anything. Then last year, my father had to repay a debt to the family. So Eric took me as payment. He wanted to come here to rub it in your face, as juvenile as that is.” Her words just kept coming as she gripped Sean’s hand tighter and tighter.
“How your father made someone as pure as you, I’ll never understand.” This sent a fierce blush to her cheeks, and her hand dug around in her bag that was right next to her chair.
“Here, take this. Eric doesn’t know that I kept it, so don’t let him catch you with it. I fear what he will do if he ever knows how long I have had that on my person.” In Sean’s hands now, instead of hers, was a locket. He smiled as he opened the piece of jewelry to find a picture of the two of them from their childhood days.
“Our first formal dance. You looked gorgeous in that green dress.” Renard was lost to nostalgia now.
“I wore it to match your eyes. They’ve always been my favorite shade of green.” She admitted, before clasping his forearm in her grip.
“Please, come to the wedding.” Before Sean could find a protest, she continued. “It’s selfish, but I want to see your face one last time before I am trapped as your brother’s trophy forever.” The man turned over his response for a minute, and in that time Eric came back into the room. Hearing footsteps, the pair jumped apart as if burned. Sean placed the locket in his jacket pocket, and turned to face his brother.
“Where were we?” Oblivious, intentionally or not, to the tension in the room, the elder prince Renard sat back down at the table.
“I’ll come to the wedding. I appreciate the invitation.” Sean’s eyes stayed on hers just long enough to send the message across, before returning to his brother.
“Wonderful! A family reunion. What splendid adventures.” Eric returned to his meal, and the other two followed suit. The tension stayed as they continued their evening, but no one was talking about it.
Three Hours Ago…
Pacing around the room, her hands were ringing together so much, she was surprised she did not hear bells coming from them. In a gorgeous white dress, complete with a veil, she felt like a princess. However, this princess was getting married to the beast, not the prince of her dreams. Ever since that fateful meeting with Sean all those months ago, her thoughts were plagued by green eyes and a kind smile.
“Mademoiselle, it is almost time.” A maid called out as she ducked her head in the room.
“Thank you, Marie. Is it cold in here to you? It feels like it is twenty below.” Marie shook her head and looked towards the fireplace. It held a roaring fire, but she said nothing about the chill the bride was feeling.
“Non, mademoiselle. Perhaps you need to stand near the fire to warm you before your walk.” She offered, and the bride nodded as she went to the warming fire. As Marie left, she noticed that while her hands, and bones were warming, her feet remained ice cold.
This was not how she wanted her wedding day to play out. But there was no corner of the globe that her fiancé would not overturn to find her again. There might be no love in their marriage, but she knew just how possessive he was.
Three Minutes Ago…
As she stood at the entrance of her walkway, she could only hope and pray that Sean was out in the audience. As selfish as it was, she needed him there. She needed to see his face as she said “I do” to keep her going. Her mind would forever morph Eric’s face into Sean’s, and she was just hoping that she was able to remain under the radar.
“Mademoiselle, it’s time.” Marie spoke gently, and flitted around her bride. Making sure the train was fluffed out, and the veil was placed over her face. She accepted her fate as the organ played the wedding march. Taking a deep breath, she imagined Sean waiting for her at the end of the isle instead of his brother, and it made her feel better. She no longer dreaded walking down the aisle if it meant Sean was waiting for her. But the second she saw Eric at the end, the illusion was broken.
She was a trophy wife. Nothing more, nothing less. Her steps were calculated, and slow as she floated down the aisle. Scanning the crowd, she could see Sean near the back as he stood. She smiled underneath the veil and tried to calm her breathing. Her hands felt sweaty and clammy, while her feet felt heavy and cold.
Joining her hands with Eric, she wished for something, or rather someone,to save her.
Present…
The gasps heard as Sean objected were loud and plentiful. Her veil had been moved which allowed everyone to see her reaction. Shock and wonder filled her expression, while Eric tightened his grip.
“Come now, little brother. Don’t don’t do this now.” The elder prince drawled out. He let out a groan as his brother made his way towards the isle.
“You’re welcome to marry her, but I feel as if I should tell you that she is pregnant with my child.” Now, confusion marred her features. Eric looked between his bride and brother in astonishment.
“Is that true?” He growled, yanking her closer and causing her to yelp.
“I don’t know what he’s talking about.” She admitted, confused and worried about what was going to happen.
“If you need any proof, brother, here it is.” Sean produced a series of black and white ultrasound images that were dated. Eric took them from his brother, and looked back towards the woman at the alter.
“You told me that you were in Italy on this date!” Eric roared; he was furious. Standing there like a fish out of water, she looked between her betrothed and his brother, who held out a hand.
Without thinking, she made her way down to the man and took his hand. She paid no attention to her fiancé who was screaming her name as they left the cathedral. Making their way to a vintage Benz, she laughed as she sat in the passenger seat.
“I’m not pregnant. How did you?” She questioned, as Sean drove off from the wedding.
“One of my associates. His wife is pregnant and I asked for his help.” He explained as he continued to drive closer to town.
“You know, I don’t even own this dress.” She admitted while laughing lightly, taking the veil off and placing it in the backseats.
“Oh yeah? Is that your something borrowed?” Sean chuckled out.
“Yeah, I guess so. You were my old, he was my new. This was borrowed, and my heart was blue.” She spoke so softly, that Renard looked towards her before placing his hand at her ready to hold.
“Well, why don’t we go back to the castle and get you away from my brother. Yes?” Nodding, her heart stopped racing. Her hands dried up and her feet warmed.
“I know for a fact that I’m not growing old with him.” They continued their drive, with no more repressed feelings and the feeling that they were no longer bound to something destructive.
Some Time Later…
Turning on the television from her couch in the condo she shared with Sean, her gasp rang out through the area.
“Eric Renard, crown prince of the Kronenberg family, was killed as his car exploded not far from Vienna airport. All of Vienna is in mourning.”
As horrible as she felt, the smile she gained was needed. He could no longer haunt her in her new life with her prince.
Eric Renard x f!reader || moments that kill ∆SMUT∆
Title: Moments that kill
Ship: Eric Renard x f!reader
Triggers: Smut, pwp, in his office
Characters: f!reader , Eric Renard
Wordcount: 3052
***
The castle had been quiet as of late, the life had left its walls when Eric had taken his trip almost a week ago. The other staff was still around but as usual they rarely uttered a word, especially to you.
You took care of things when he was away, a task that you could arguably do at home when he wasn't at his home but still, the castle offered a familiarity along with its loneliness, hope along with its longing. A distraction that seemingly also pushed you towards the thing that kept you otherwise distracted.
You walked down the halls, heels reverberating against the walls as you moved, deafening in the silence but also calming in its rhythm and then the rhythm stopped as your heart skipped a beat, for a moment you had surmised you were imagining it. It was too early.
There as you remember him, at his desk Eric sat flipping through pages you had left for him. Now scattered lay the tidy pile you had left.
You swallowed as you walked into the room, smile on your lips. The elation you felt was also the dagger that kept you from moving too close. You knew who he was and he knew who you were. It was a harsh game to play, turning your feelings inside out and swallowing you. You were too happy to see him, too compliant, too easy to read. You loved him but only from afar. He constantly took things too far and you reached to pick up the pieces but it made you bleed from keeping them too close.
"Eric, didn't realize you're back." Your smile reached your eyes and he couldn't help but smile back. You always had a look of pure elation when you smiled and it made the world want to join in the fun. It felt real and not too many things in his life had that essence. He loved that about you.
"I am, landed few hours ago." He replied, pen tapping against the wood of the desk a few times as he took you in. Memory didn't quite do you justice he surmised like he had done before. Nothing could compare to seeing you in the flesh.
"Well, can get you something.. coffee, tea?" Though not technically your job, it was something you'd occasionally do.
"No, I'm fine." He replied with a small shake of his head. "But I do think it's time for a break from.." he motioned to the mess scattered on his desk.
"Hmm.." you hummed in agreement. "It is quite a task, a break would be a wise choice."
"Maybe you can help with that." He raised an eyebrow and you moved closer to the desk, too eager your mind repeated. Too easy to fall to his every whim and request.
"Of course." You replied and watched him push himself up from the chair. "I am here to serve. "
"The Portland situation has gotten a little out of control." He sighed as he came to stand in front of you. "Can't think straight. I need.. a little distraction for a bit."
He cupped your cheek, thumb treading along your cheekbone. It was too soft, he was too gentle with you. Moments like these were too much as the feelings boiling within threatened to overwhelm you.
He took the papers you were holding and dropped them on his desk to join his other headaches and then paid closer attention to you. You were never like the others. You weren't one to withhold from him but unlike the others you didn't submit yourself to him, you weren't something take and disregard. There was a piece of you in everything you did that couldn't be washed away, couldn't be taken even by force. Maybe that was the difference, that he saw you as a person and not as a thing. That he thought you to be special.
"I missed having you there." He said softly, hands resting on your hips and pulling you slightly toward him. "No one laughed at my jokes."
You huffed a laugh. "That's all I'm good for?"
"Not all." He shrugged. "But it makes up a good portion."
He liked watching the laughter filter through your eyes knowing it was because of him that your eyes sparkled a certain way, that the lines forming at the corner of your eyes because of it was due to him. That he made you feel that joy. He was the cause of so much pain and torture which he didn't quite despise but that wasn't something he'd want to exercise on you.
He cupped the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. He'd hoped you would know what he felt through the simple act, that it spoke the things he couldn't admit to you, that you knew he cared for you as deeply as he kissed you.
You kissed back, internally struggling to keep the wall you built from crumbling, from taking whatever he willed from you. The voice in the corner always saying how what he got from you, he could get from anywhere else. You were just convenient. That he'd just turn around tomorrow and have another sharing his bed.
He were pulled harshly from your thoughts as his hand weaved through your hair, bunching it in his hand and pulled harshly to expose your neck to him.
You whimpered at the contact. He angled your body so you were leaning slightly on the desk as his lips went to your pulse point, his actions meek at the start licking and kissing at the skin, testing waters he had already conquered.
Your hand weaved through his hair as he worked, his body situated between your legs as your eyes flicked to the open door, biting into your lip as you assessed the likelihood of someone finding you like this. The thought making your heart beat faster and cheeks flush, fear spreading but in the end only heat settled at your core.
His actions had started getting rougher as time passed, biting and licking after the sharp pain he caused while his hands pulled your skirt over your hips to expose more of you to him. Next he unbuttoned your shirt and pulled away from you slightly to watch you spill free when he haphazardly pulled on your bra to expose your breasts.
You bit into your lip as you removed your shirt and then the bra. Your hands reached out for him, a little unsure whether he'd just want to take you and return to what he was doing or you'd be allowed some skin to play with.
He didn't seem to object as he watched you unbutton his shirt, feeling like it was taking an eternity with how you fumbled with the buttons. Hands shaking slightly.
You could see him already showing through his pants and bit into your lip as you scooted a bit back on the desk while he removed his shirt.
"Fucking gorgeous." He commented as his hands moved from your thighs to your stomach and then your breasts, giving a little squeeze before rolling the tips between his fingers, shooting the feeling straight to your core. "Always so good for me." He hummed, pleased with your response to him. "Today isn't gonna be any different, is it?"
You nodded as your hands gripped the edge of the desk. You knew you were already wet by how your body felt, you were getting impatient but didn't want him to stop either. Didn't want his hands to leave you, didn't want his words to stop, didn't want him to stop looking at you like he did right now, like you were the only thing he cared for in the world at the moment. Like you were the only thing that mattered.
His head dipped to your neck, pressing a chaste kiss before speaking. "I'm going to have to ask you to use your words, sweetheart."
You bit into your lip as you felt your cheeks heat up. Confession, promise. Either way it brought something to light you were afraid he'd reject. Your inner most thoughts.
"Yes, Eric.." you breathed, looking up at him as he pulled away to regard you. "I'll be.. good."
The smile that spread over his features held resemblance to the Cheshire Cat that was half smug and the other half pleased.
"Good." He murmured, hands trailing down your body and for a moment resting on your thighs before gently pushing your legs further open to him. His thumb softly stroking over the your clothed core, watching intently as you sharply inhaled under his touch.
He moved your underwear out of the way and slid a single digit through your folds, teasing as he he moved closer to where you wanted him but not quite reaching the destination. He liked to play with his meal, liked to act like he had nowhere else to be when you were laid out before him, the epitome of patience as he slowly pulled on the strings that would make you unravel in front of him, one by one he'd pull until nothing was left.
You let out a shaky breath when his finger did enter, biting on your lip to keep some of the exposure of earlier but you knew it's a lost cause, hands coming to rest on his arm as he worked the single digit in and out of you, not enough but thankful for the small gesture, you leaned back slightly to offer him more space to work.
"Already wet hmm." He murmured. "Did you miss me."
There was some things he always brought up in moments that were fleeting, that were teasing. An intimacy he wanted to be heard but couldn't understand. The confession from your lips would've fed even the most starved man in his eyes, yet he knew you'd never respond to it like he wanted. You'd never see what he needed, you'd never answer him sincerely because he couldn't tell you you were the only one he asked, the only one he wanted to have a yes from.
Your cheeks heat up but no words escaped your lips, instead opening your legs more in hopes that it would spur him on.
He added another digit and he could hear your juices with each push of his fingers. The angle wasn't most opportune for the action but what he lost in comfort was made up for in the way your face contorted in pleasure, the pleasure he provided you and he decided to added a third.
He could see how you bit into your lip, hard enough you most likely had drawn blood to keep from crying out and he let it be, he'd have you screaming his name before the end of the day anyway. Your walls were pulsing and he knew what that meant and so did you by the way your nails dig into his arm, eyes closing.
"Eric.." his name fell like a plea from your lips, heavenly sweet especially paired with the image of you under his ministrations.
"I know, baby. Let go for me." He responded promptly, thumb pressing flat against your clit and you were lost to the world. Again you bit into your lip, cheeks ablaze as your body shook slightly as the orgasm tore through you and leaked out over his hand.
He removed his hand and hummed as he sucked your juices from one finger. "Good girl." He stated before pressing his lips to yours, tongue wasting no time in entering beyond your lips.
His hands worked just as his lips was, fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear and pulling them from your body. He broke the kiss and pulled you to stand. Your legs felt a little wobbly but he kept you upright, pressed to him, his skin feeling hot against your own.
Unceremoniously he turned you and pushed your chest flat against the desk, paper sticking to skin as you were reminded of what this was. You were just there to fulfill a need, he would never see you as anything more than that. That which he provides was just a courtesy, him playing with a meal he knew he didn't have to work for. He knew you'd never say no to him anyway.
Nonetheless, the realization never took away from the pleasure you knew was to come. The burn, the ecstasy, the push and pull. The way he said your name as he filled you.
You heard him unzip his pants and could picture him softly pumping himself with the soft sigh that left his lips to the sight of you and how pathetic it might be, it caused butterflies to swarm inside your stomach.
His hand smoothed over your back as he settled in place, tapping against your feet with his own so you would move to a wider stance and then he was pressed close to your core. He rubbed himself through your slit a few times, lubing his cock with your juices before pressing to your core.
"Ready?" He asked softly, that patience ever present in a situation you both knew he could've just taken what he wanted.
"Yes." You nodded, waiting for him turn your senses to ash.
He held you firmly just above where your skirt was bunched around your middle and push in slowly, teeth clenched and grunting under the weight of finally being inside you. The feeling never ceased to amaze him, the perfection, the view. For a moment he wasn't who he was, for one perfect moment you were with him and everything made sense.
When he was sheathed inside you, he stilled. Breathless but silent you both stood and waited. It was a courtesy but not taken for granted until you started squirming, small incoherent sounds falling from your lips with the small movement and it brought a small smile to his lips.
His one hand trailed up over your back, a feather light touch until his fingers were bunching into your hair and you knew the time for pleasantries was over. You planted your feet as best you could as you waited. He held you in this position as he pulled back and gave a sharp thrust that shook the breath from your lungs and you moaned along with his grunts. He repeated the process again and again until he was in an unforgiving rhythm, filling you again and again as you cried out for more.
His thrusts were sharp and fast and elicited a cry with every thrust, hips hitting against the desk with a force but that slight pain being the least of your worries as you lay overwhelmed and then suddenly, it was all gone as your climax was beginning to grow.
The hold he had on your hip and hair left and you were breathless, barely being able to comprehend what was happening.
He harshly pulled you upright by your arms and flipped you back over, pressing you to the desk and pushing back into you in this new position. This time he didn't hold you down but his hand did snake to your breast for a moment before he settled for rubbing at your clit, watching your body arch into the touch. You were vaguely aware of his voice but not quite making out the words as you cried out, holding the edge of the desk beside your head to ground you. Papers carelessly falling to the floor as you moved on the desk with each thrust.
You were violently shot out into space and then pummeling back down as your body responded to the pleasure, walls clenching down on his member as the orgasm ripped through every cell in your body leaving nothing but elation as he took from you all you had to offer.
He groaned as you clenched around him, watching as your body reacted to him, his movements slowing down not only to witness this moment but also because it had been harder to move but he did what he could, rocking you through the feeling.
"That's a good girl." He breathed, thrusts picking up speed. Sloppily he thrusted, holding onto your thigh for leverage until he too fell from the edge, grunting your name as he stilled as deep as he could manage, spilling himself into you.
You moaned softly as you felt ribbon after ribbon filling you.
Seeing you like this, perspiration covering your body as you unashamedly lay open in front of him, it was a sight to behold, one he committed to memory each time he had the privilege to behold it.
He pulled out after a few moments, pulling you to a seating position and pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head.
"So good for me." He whispered against your hair and you clenched your eyes shut. This was killing you, you knew. The feelings you had for him, the things you told yourself. You couldn't protect yourself from him and it was turning fatal. It was breaking you to know this was all you'd ever be afforded. Nothing more.
Equally as tragic, it was killing him. Not being able to hold you, tell you how perfect you were after the illusion had faded. Not being able to voice how important you were to him. How you made him vulnerable. Not realizing how scared you were of the same things that kept him back.
Just like each time, you quickly gathered your things and got dressed as you left him, wordless but still, he allowed you into his bed which had to account for something. He told you, you were beautiful which was words you could hold onto. It was your coffin. The softness you saw in him, the feelings that kept bringing you back to this.
You will continue to work close with him but never close enough. He will continue to tell you words that simultaneously pulled and wrecked you with it's deniability. He knew what he'd be bringing you into if he ever failed at this one task. He just couldn't do that to you. He had to protect you from it and it the process wreck both of you.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" He asks lightly, not even bothering to look up from his book. Her gun is solid in her hand, cold steel against her skin, and she's not two steps away from him. He couldn't possibly move away before she pulls the trigger.
Still, she hesitates. For all of his flaws, he's certainly no fool. He should sound more concerned than he does, by far.
Then her gaze lands on his left arm. It rests at an odd tilt, tucked back into the couch, and she doesn't need any of those pesky powers to know what he must be holding. Judging by the angle, his shot would land squarely in her gut. Granted, she'd be a lot more likely to survive that than he would be to survive a headshot, but still, it'd be most inconvenient to lead an army while stuck in bed recovering.
Another time, then.
If she lowers her gun now, she's a dead woman; he'll shoot her through just for threatening him, and she won't even get off a shot of her own. She'll have to get him to lower his (but of course that won't be easy; he'll know he's a dead man if he does).
"Just making sure you're paying attention," she says, words dripping with feigned sweetness. "Our enemies can be pretty dangerous, you know?"
"Hm." He finally looks up at her, smiling without a care in the world as her gun rests nearly against his forehead. "I quite like danger. Don't you?"
"Always. But a good partner is hard to find."
"Indeed." He arches a brow. "So rare to find someone you can trust these days."
"At least we have each other."
"Don't we just?"
Neither move, gazes locked, waiting each other out. Emma knows the rules of this game quite well by now: you blink, you die. You back down, you die. You hesitate, even for a single moment? You die.
She doesn't blink.
Neither does he.
"Hey, guys, we should get ready to-whoa." Jessica stops short, wariness creeping into her voice. "What's going on here?"
Emma considers her options. At her signal, Jessica would kill him. This, she's sure of. She might even manage it before he gets a shot off. But she might not, and that bed rest isn't looking any more appealing. Besides, Jessica might get caught in the crossfire, and who knows what might happen to her baby?
That child is far too valuable to the future of Rittenhouse to risk over something like this.
Eric must read her decision in her eyes, because his smile softens, and he replies, "Just flirting a bit. You know how that is, don't you?"
Bringing up Jessica's... Complicated situation with Wyatt is downright cold. Emma can't help but smile in response. She lowers her gun easily now; he wouldn't dare shoot her with Jessica here.
He follows suit, rising to his feet in the same motion.
When she kisses him, it isn't a chore, and it isn't for show. He's as handsome as they come, and it's rare she can find a man who can match her wit.
