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tomorrowsdrama · 3 years

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2020: A Year in Thirst

In 1985, Gabriel Garcia Marquez gave the world Love in the Time of Cholera. In 2020 (er, I guess it’s now 2021), I give to you, Thirst in the Time of Covid-19 or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Embrace the Thirst, a brief recap of all the dramas I watched in 2020 and whether such dramas made yours truly parched..

The list contains dramas that premiered in 2020, but also dramas from previous years. If I watched it or attempted to watch it in 2020, it’s on the list.

EDIT: Ok, I’m going to have to do this in multiple parts because apparently I watched more dramas in 2020 than I remembered and talking about them all in one post would just be too long.

This also serves as a sort of greeting to all the people who recently followed me. I don’t know how or why, but thank you for being interested in my thirst, and also so sorry for everything you have/will witness here! I started this side blog last December 2019 as a place to dump all my fangirl feels and thirst with unbridled abandon and let’s just say, the thirst REALLY ramped up in 2020 during quarantine and all the political chaos/uncertainty. The state of the world may be uncertain, but my thirst will always be a comforting constant! LOL. If you want to thirst or fangirl/boy together, I’m all ears.

Anyway, let’s start with the drama that was partially the inspiration for this list.

1. The Wolf

Brief Summary: Sweet hot boy raised in the wilderness/by wolves meets sweet beautiful girl and they fall in love. Shitty evil people do shitty evil things to them to cause a misunderstanding and they are separated for years. Sweet hot boy is given the “Sexy Bloody Tormented Killer Makeover” TM and turns into a VERY VERY BAD HOT Wolf Man after being tortured/brainwashed by an evil asshole king who “adopted” him. Bad Hot Wolf Man reunites with sweet beautiful girl but because of third party machinations in the past, he thinks that she betrayed him so he is suuuuuuch an ass to her (while still maintaining hotness). But even beneath the asshattery (and sexy jerky smirks), he can’t help his love for her and it’s just *chefs kiss*. The angst, the pining, the mutual sacrifice for each other, the torment of wanting to be together but not being able to be together because of external forces/circustances, oh I am getting in a tizzy just thinking about it. I won’t reveal anymore so as not to spoil the drama, but just know the ending may destroy you.

Is she thirsty? Am I thirsty? AM I THIRSTY? Oh honey, if you don’t know the answer to that, then you must either be new here or you haven’t been paying attention to any of my posts in the past few weeks. Look, from the first moment the camera panned to Darren Wang’s very well-defined and tan chest and windswept hair, all semblance of shame and dignity I ever tried to feign on this tumblr was immediately thrown out the window. The feelings that he inspired within me were purely primal. My cavewoman ancestor from millennia ago stopped gathering food in the harsh wilderness for a brief second to transmigrate into my body and go “me want big strong man!”

I mean, below is literally our introduction to Wolf Boy. Am I supposed to just witness this and not feel anything? The director knew what he/she was doing. Anybody who worked on the drama who says they didn’t intend to exploit Darren Wang’s assets is a BOLD FACED LIAR. And this isn’t even Wolf boy in his hottest form.

That would be this:

Damn, your girl needs a moment here. When Wolf Boy turns into Bad Hot Wolf Man, wheeeeewww. The things that came out of my mouth and the thoughts that popped up into my head.

Examples of shameless fangirl drooling can be found here: https://tomorrowsdrama.tumblr.com/post/636986055498792960/dangermousie-this-should-be-illegal-i-mean Here: https://tomorrowsdrama.tumblr.com/post/637238885944033280/dangermousie-i-am-fucking-dead-the-end-this Here: https://tomorrowsdrama.tumblr.com/post/637793196830769152/dangermousie-wolfie-acquired-a-kid-omg Here: https://tomorrowsdrama.tumblr.com/post/635272988321775616/dangermousie-i-dont-know-about-you-guys-but and here: https://tomorrowsdrama.tumblr.com/post/637621638524977152/dangermousie-hnnnnnnnngh-i-am-beginning-to-forget

Honestly, just check out The Wolf tag on @dangermousie tumblr and you won’t be disappointed. Prepare to become obsessed, horny, and heartbroken.

Would I watch it minus the thirst traps? Have you ever thirsted so much that you couldn’t separate what reaction was hormonal and what was objective? Like the guy is so hot to you that when your friends ask you what do you like about him, the first 10 things you can think of are “he’s hot!” and then you try to remind yourself that you’re not a shallow person who actually cares about things other than looks but at the same time you can’t for the life of you think of a non-hot based trait that you like about the guy Yeah, that’s what happened here so sorry, I can’t give you an objective opinion. It’s not that there’s nothing objectively good about The Wolf, it’s just that my judgment is too clouded by Darren Wang’s abs and big hands. But from what I can tell by other people’s posts, even if you didn’t thirst for Darren Wang (Are you made of stone? But also, can you please teach me your magic so I can go back to being a semi-functional working woman?), The Wolf is still a very enjoyable drama with its own non-Darren Wang related merits.

2. My Beautiful Bride

Brief Summary: A drama about a strait-laced banker who wears a dorky backpack and rides a bicycle everywhere while wearing the dorkiest looking helmet ever and his beautiful bride-to-be whom he is hopelessly devoted to. This being a kdrama, and an OCN drama at that, things aren’t all what they appear to be. Yes, you read that right, an OCN. ROMANCE. DRAMA. Turns out the beautiful bride-to-be has a dangerous past that soon comes back to haunt her and she mysteriously disappears one day from strait-laced banker’s life in the typical kdrama way to protect him. Part of the reason she leaves him is also because she doesn’t want him to know about her past because she doesn’t think she’s good enough for him. Little does she know, he knows everything about her past and accepts it all. The only reason why he doesn’t bring it up is because he knows she doesn’t want him to know about that part of herself and he loves her so much he’s willing to do anything to make her happy. But also, another thing she doesn’t know is that underneath that boring but perfectly ironed suit, is a finely chiseled, super efficient fighting machine who did his mandatory military service in the special forces. He is like the terminator meets Liam Neeson’s character in Taken. He has a very particular set of skills and will stop at nothing to get his bride back.

Is she thirsty? Please just watch this video and you will have your answer: https://youtu.be/Ut9MhxWadHM

Prior to The Wolf, My Beautiful Bride was probably the most thirst-inducing drama I watched in 2020.

I mean, just look

at this

at all of this

I don’t’ know how Joo Young saw that body and never questioned whether he really was just a banker. The writers of the drama must be super heterosexual men who are blind because so many of the characters in the drama question why someone as beautiful as Joo Young would ever want to be with someone like the banker. Um..Um...aside from the fact that he is financially well off, treats her well, is loving and respectful of her, and prioritizes her over everything else, JUST LOOK AT HIM. I was so thirsty for Kim Mu Yeol in this role that I would accidentally tag this drama as My Beautiful Banker sometimes. The banker was on a relentless one-man mission to take back his bride and turn me on in the process and ooooooh boy was he successful on both fronts. He is seriously sex on legs every time he beats up a baddie in his quest to find answers about Joo Young’s whereabouts.

Would I watch it minus the thirst traps? I binged the first six episodes of this drama in one afternoon partly because of my thirst, but also partly because it’s a very well made crime-action-gangster drama. This is an OCN drama so you can expect a competently made production with well choreographed/bloody action scenes and a solid script.

3. Scarlet Heart Ryeo / Moon Lovers

Brief Summary: IU plays Hae Soo, a modern woman who is somehow transported back in time to the Goryeo period. There, she gets entangled with a group of royal princes. Her two main love interests are Wang So (played by Lee Jun Ki) and Wang Wook (played by Kang Ha Neul). The princes vie for the throne and some of them for Hae Soo’s affection. Lee Jun Ki does what he does best, which is play a sexy tortured deadly man who looks way too good with blood splattered on his face. Kang Ha Neul is the seemingly kind prince/daddy long legs character who turns out to be not so kind or daddy long leggy. Hae Soo is...well IU did the best she could with what she was given (which was a hot inconsistent mess).

Is she thirsty? Scarlet Heart Ryeo is like the honeypot of thirst traps. It’s essentially a reverse harem set up with a prince for everyone.

Like them young and cute? Then try the 10th prince, Wang Eun.

Want them big, tall, and kinda dumb? Here’s the 14th prince Wang Jung for ya.

Want an evil bastard with an affinity for guyliner? Try out 3rd prince Wang Yo.

Tall, slender, and scholarly? 13th prince Baek-ah will fill your needs.

Is a kind/gentle man who will ultimately disappoint you because he doesn’t show up when you need him most more your speed? Well, let me introduce you to 8th prince, Wang Wook.

Kinda scary but oh so hot and with a ton of baggage? We’re talking, I overpacked and brought 10 overstuffed large suitcases levels of baggage. 4th prince Wang So is the guy for you.

And if you prefer someone with no personality, presence, or memorable traits, I got a two-for-one deal for you in the crown prince Wang Mu and 9th prince Wang Won.

Would I watch it minus the thirst traps? There is political intrigue, scheming, romance, fluffy hijinks (my least favorite parts of the drama), angst, beautiful costumes, and pretty decent fight scenes. Scarlet Heart Ryeo is a pretty solid fusion/fantasy sageuk mostly thanks to Lee Jun Ki. The only person who has ever carried a larger load on his back is Atlas. I’m not saying all the other actors are horrendous. It’s just very clear that the one elevating the material beyond the inconsistencies/messiness/elementary politics of the script is Lee Jun Ki. Your enjoyment level of the drama will likely increase if you are a fan of any of the main actors.

#the wolf #darren wang #my beautiful bride #kim mu yeol #scarlet heart ryeo #moon lovers: scarlet heart ryeo #lee jun ki #kang ha neul #ji soo #cdrama #kdrama

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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I Wanna Ruin Our "Friendship" (Taywhora) - Vena

"You know, ‘galpal’ things can be nerve-wracking when you’re a gay, nervous wreck." Or it could simply be that Tayce used that as a shitty excuse to kiss Aurora without making things awkward.

a/n. An excuse to write vanilla Taywhora smut lmao. That's about it!

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“You know, ‘galpal’ things can be nerve-wracking when you’re a gay, nervous wreck,” Bimini calls out. Aurora, thus far, has been in a - slightly, mind you! - shocked state for quite a few seconds, her eyes wandering around like crazy as she tried to recall everything that had just happened.

Typhoon Tayce, that’s what happened.

Before she got to Black Cherry, it was all going as it usually went: the three girls piled up at Bimini’s, insulted each other then hyped each other up, put on pretty clothes (“Except for Tia,” Aurora would say), and took one first shot to get the night started.

Aurora looked through Bimini’s wardrobe to see if she could find something nice enough to “borrow” then never give back, going past the huge faux fur jacket with the leopard print and the collection of lime green slash neon pink shirts with a cleavage cut that barely covered their nipples.

“A button-up shirt, Bims?”

“Do you love it? Bought it for like, two dollars at a thrift store.”

“I mean,” Aurora said, “it’s pretty, but I wouldn’t wear it.”

Bimini’s scandalous laugh echoed through the room. “Try it on, babes!”

“Absolute clownery. I would never wear a button-up shirt. Especially not when going to a club,” Aurora said and grabbed her phone to scroll through Instagram, all too oblivious to the fact Tia had just finished buttoning up her yellow pineapple print shirt. Not that Tia would mind her words; after all, every day was Insulting Tia’s Fashion Choices Day for Aurora. Usual teasing. And she was okay with it.

“Much rather squash yourself into a tube dress that barely reaches the bottom of your knickers, right, Rory?” Tia counter-attacks. The Kofi Strikes Back.

Aurora rolled her eyes, laughing a bit. She grabbed the brush sitting by Bims’ nightstand and started combing the taller girl’s hair. “At least someone in this group has the chance to end the night up being pounded right. Bimini’s turned into a nun after meeting that guy Joey, and you have always dressed like you're 50-something. Therefore, I’m the hottest hoe out of yous.”

“ ’That guy Joey’, huh?” Bimini’s head peaked out of the bathroom door. “When will you stop calling him that? It’s been, what, nine months?”

“Yeah, and where is Bims a nun now? Those shorts are really living up to the short part. It’s leather, for fuck’s sake…” Tia groaned as a sharp pain went through her, coming straight from her scalp. “Ouch, you hound! Also, not everybody wants to end the night up being pounded, you know? Not shagging with a different stranger every week is also fun, maybe you should try it out sometime.”

“Yeah, you hound, not everybody likes syphilis!” Bimini yells from the bathroom. They all laugh.

Aurora yells back, “surely that doesn’t include you!”, and Bimini mumbles a small “not a joke, just a fact”.

The blondie put the brush away and landed a tiny kiss in Tia’s hair. She got off the bed, smacked Aurora in the arse, slightly touched by all that affection. “You know, when we first met, I first thought you were merely a bitchy prat. But now I realize I was absolutely correct all along. Although, I still love you.”

“I love being insulted for free!” the blondie blurted out. “Anyways. We should get going. It’s almost nine. Bims is taking the longest time to put on such little fabric on their tiny body and it’s pissing me off.”

“Oi!” Bimini yelled, still in the bathroom. “Can’t rush perfection!”

Tia stopped by the bathroom door and blew them a kiss. “Have fun staying home then, hound.” After that, they were quick to grab their respective belongings and order a cab.

London was not a quiet town, moreso on Friday nights. Everybody wanted to go out for drinks, chats, maybe even getting lucky, who knows? As a consequence, there were lots of clubs down that area, although, to the girls, none of them matched Black Cherry - their favorite.

Could be because Joey, the owner, had the hots for Bimini ever since they first met - they matched up quite well, ended up shagging then dating - so it was free drinks for the three of them. There was more to it, though: the atmosphere, the people, the location. Felt like magic whenever they stepped inside, letting the music consume them (not the usual upbeat pop they had around the other clubs, the songs were picked very carefully by Ellie, their quote-unquote, “DJ”).

Aurora would deny it always and forever, but there was a bigger reason for her to always try to look her best every Friday night. And it had a name, time, and a beautiful pair of hands: Tayce, who always arrived a bit past ten (after making her friends wait for a solid half-hour), who was the embodiment of a moon child, who was the life of the dance floor.

Tayce was ridiculous. That was the only proper word Aurora could think of to describe her. Ridiculously beautiful, ridiculously smart, ridiculously nice.

First of all, great fashion. Tayce stood out with that astounding b&w jacket dress and those thigh-high boots (Aurora loved thigh-high boots more than watching Project Runway whilst eating Percy Pigs, ad that means something ). Not to mention her hair seemed as if it that been tailored by the most royal of silkworms. Black, straight (unlike her, as Aurora would soon find out), and downy. Tayce’s skin tone reminded her of milk chocolate or Nutella, or maybe she was just hungry. Her eyes were two beautiful almonds (she was definitely hungry) and her plump, glossy lips were so full. and. kissable. Um…

Pretty. Ridiculously pretty.

And social. Tayce chatted with anyone who approached her, even the drunken blokes far too hammered to realize she was way out of their league who tried to get some. Friendly, but not like she would just let anyone get a hold of her. Aurora searched for the word in the confines of her brain, though it was hard… Assertive? Chatty? Someone who seemed to belong to the world? The word was right there…

“Confident.”

“What?” Aurora asked.

“The word is confident, babes.” Bimini hugged her waist. “You keep saying those things aloud, she might notice it in a while! That is if she hasn’t already…”

Aurora rolled her eyes and left them to it. They always went to the club together but parted ways after a few moments: Aurora could be found nearly shagging with some girl on the dance floor, Bimini went upstairs to do who-knows-what with Joe and Tia just danced her brains out - she truly did not need anyone to make her night better, apart from Lady Gaga and Kylie Minogue. By midnight, the blondie was far too gone, could barely remember her own name, but boy was she having the time of her life.

Somehow, whilst dancing (trying to - she was not the best dancer ever, truth be told), she bumped into Ms. Tall, Dark & Handsome

“Oh, nightie, Tayes! You look stunning tonight, by the way.”

“Rory, hi.” Tayce gave her an awkward hug. “You sound absolutely plastered.”

“No that, just… my voice is horse- I mean, hoarse - tonight.” Aurora cackled at herself. Words really were not her favorite thing (the perks of being dyslexic), and those few too many shots only aggravated her situation. “What I’m trying to say is…”

Tayce nodded and giggled. God, even her goddamn giggle was beautiful. Aurora wanted to drown in her. “You’re absolutely plastered.”

“Not that!”

“You are,” Tayce laughed, which caused the other girl to laugh as well. She was so damn cute. “Wanna know a secret?” Aurora nodded. “I am too.”

They both exploded in laughs, finding everything so damn funny besides all the nonsense they were saying. Just like every other Friday night, Tayce and Aurora chit-chat for a while. They were not friends, more like known strangers, but being regulars of the same club for so long meant their faces, voices, and presence were not that foreign to one another. And, since drunken A’whora was oh-so-sociable, of course, they would talk sometime.

(Because sober Aurora was too much of a chicken to reach out to Tayce. Imagine actually talking to a girl that beautiful without some alcohol in one’s system… She was friendly, yeah, but also intimidating as hell. Maybe because she was insanely attractive. Or it could be her eyebrows. Why was she even thinking about that right now, when they were discussing clothes and college stuff? Where did that come from?)

Whatever.

At a given moment, Where Have You Been Came on the speakers. And the way Aurora’s eyes sparkled as she started hopping in her place, yelling out the lyrics, looking like the happiest bitch in the world made Tayce’s heart kind of… race?

She had felt that a few times for Aurora, but it is hard not to when she’s just that pretty. And Tayce liked pretty girls. A lot. A whole lot.

As the end of the song approached and Aurora calmed down from all the “that’s my song!” and “Rihanna, I love you!”, Tayce didn’t even notice her body acting up against her will (or was it?), leaning forwards and forwards and grabbing the blondie by the neck. “You just look so pretty right now. I love your smile.”

The tension could’ve been cut with a damn knife, given how they were staring at each other. Confused, but into it. What the actual fuck , Aurora thought. Maybe she’s just way too drunk. Maybe she’s about to pass out and-

Tayce kissed her. And kissed her, and kissed her, and touched her. It was hurried, filled with luxury, as though they needed each other’s lips to keep them alive. Full of a desperation neither knew existed. Aurora could have never seen it coming, for she saw the tall girl as an untouchable being - because of some stupid reason. Tayce could have never seen it coming, for she didn’t believe she would have the guts (even intoxicated Tayce!) to do it anyways.

Turns out she did. Who knew?

As they parted, Tayce noticed the surprise that still took over Aurora’s face. Fuck? So she did what she did best: create a distraction. With a bright smile, all teeth and gums, Tayce said “galpal things.”

And they both laughed it off, as Aurora walked away trying to process everything out, almost instantly sobered out from the shock.

“Tayce just kissed me. No like, The Tayce just kissed me.”

“We’ve seen it,” Bimini replied.

“No, but she kissed me!”

“We’ve seen it,” Tia replied.

“Then she said it was ‘galpal’ things, Bims, Tee, I’m…?”

Finally, finally , we reach the start once again. Properly contextualized, this time. Bimini’s hand rested against her bare shoulder. “You know, ‘galpal’ things can be nerve-wracking when you’re a gay, nervous wreck.”

Tia shrugged. “The perks of being a lesbian. Y’all never know shite! She could take your bitch ass to Paris and ask you to marry her during the most romantic date in the world and you would still be all oh-she-wants-to-be-friends-that’s-all, no wonder she dismissed it as being galpal things.”

“So you think she meant it?”

“Babes. Please. She grabbed your titties. That’s not a girl-friends thing, it’s a girlfriends thing.”

Aurora blushed hard, her ears so red it could be seen even under the club’s dim purple lights. “Suddenly you’re not that fitting for the nickname A’whora. Who’s the nun now?” Bimini teased.

Aurora laughed, back to her normal, usual state. Not that shy, lost mess, totally not confused as to why Tayce (The Tayce!) would ever want anything to do with her. “How can I be a prude if Tayce was grabbing my tits about three minutes ago?”

“Can’t be arsed.”

“But,” Tia said, “you should go to her, yanno? She could be your special one for the night.”

Tia was (as usual) correct.

[...]

There was no way of explaining how on Earth they both got to Aurora's apartment in such a short time. Her excitement was showing, as well as her nervousness. She had not been this close to her like, ever (!). As soon as the front door was closed, Aurora threw the girl to the sofa and climbed on top of her, the tension stronger than ever before. And, as Tayce’s fingers sneaked under the hem of her dress, right at the middle of her thigh, Aurora could have sworn there was nothing, nothing else in the world she wanted more than having the girl’s lips on hers once more.

“Please…,” she managed to let out. “Can we kiss… again?”

Tayce smiled wide (which made Aurora’s guts do flips and jumps that would put Olympic champs to shame) before leaning in agonizingly slow and trapping Aurora on her once again. With her piercing gaze, soft lips, and firm hands that wandered around everywhere she could reach; Aurora was a goner for her.

"Take me to your room," Tayce asked.

There was truly no sight like it, having such an astoundingly pretty woman in her bedsheets. Aurora let her hand fall to Tayce’s thighs, pulling her closer and already tugging at the band of her underwear. Tayce’s lips twisted in a seductive smirk, the same smug look she carried with her all night. Aurora sometimes thought that was her resting face. Not that she was complaining, for it was so. damn. charming. “Thought you’d be the one receiving tonight…”

And, impulsive slag she was, couldn’t revise the words before they came to exist. “I’m ambidextrous.” Oh no. She’s laughing. That wasn’t sexy. Did I just ruin the mood or…?

“Good to know. I’m right-handed most of the time, you know,” Tayce said, grabbing Aurora’s hand and placing her right one underneath. And, damn, Aurora tried hard not to follow her every movement, but Tayce’s hands were simply mesmerizing and she couldn’t help herself. Long fingers. Black nail polish, so perfect it seemed she either got it done that day or never did dishes in her lifetime. Soft skin.

Fuck.

(She knows it’s weird, okay. Being caught way too many times staring endlessly at people’s hands and dealing with the embarrassment that washed over her face once someone else noticed was more than enough reminder. But, like aforementioned: she couldn’t help herself.)

“You like them?” Tayce arched her brow, eyes pointing to her hands. The blondie gulped. She really was not subtle, was she? “Talk to me, princess.”

“I- I do. I love your hands.”

From there, Tayce’s hand made way to Aurora’s chin. Held her in place then guided her neck upwards till she was exposed enough for Tayce to abuse the area however she wanted. Started out with small pecks here and there, whilst her thumbs traced tiny circles in Aurora’s collarbone. The blondie was slowly melting under her kisses, although she stiffened up once Tayce’s tongue met her skin. The touch was warm, wet, and welcome. It made Aurora squirm, whine at a low volume. Her legs pressed together and kept moving to find a position that would at least help her a bit. Yes, she was extremely easy to rile up and the other girl could definitely tell that just from that brief moment. And Tayce enjoyed it. A lot.

Still licking and sucking her neck, Tayce tried her best to get rid of the tight black dress Aurora was wearing. She felt her zipper being slowly pulled down, the night breeze a lovely contrast to the warmth that emanated from Tayce’s body. And from between her thighs.

“Take this off for me, would ‘ya?” Tayce asked, already fumbling with the lock of the blondie’s bra. Aurora was more than happy to oblige if that meant Tayce would call her princess once again, and in no time she was wearing nothing but her underwear and the black stockings. Tayce grabbed her breast once again, making her shudder from the intensity of her touches. It felt different for she was almost naked, no more fabrics keeping them apart. Better. Tayce flicked one of her nipples with her fingers before lowering her mouth and sucking it hard enough to earn her the loudest moan yet.

“Please, Tayes… Um…”

“What, princess? Tell me.”

Aurora grabbed her face and planted a kiss in her mouth.“Bite me,” she ordered.

Tayce smiled. That girl truly was something else. Switching between shy and demanding, begging then ordering. Made Tayce want to get to know all her sides. She had always thought Aurora was a figure, with her huge blonde curls, short dresses, and her way of flirting with everything that moved - be it seducing random men in the bars for the free drinks or trying to get on with a girl. It was fun, really, observing her from far away and periodically making small talk. Her interest in Aurora started to be more because of how her eyes crinkled when she smiled, her laid-back attitude, and her presence rather than for her spectacular pair of legs.

Plus, there was no denying it. Aurora was gorgeous.

Tayce obeyed her. Bit the tip of her nipple, at first lightly just to test Aurora out. By the way she was writhing and moaning underneath her, Tayce knew it was working. So she sucked it again, letting her tongue wander around the soft, fair skin, leaving red marks wherever she touched. Then went back to biting, closing her teeth around the hard bud a bit harsher than before, just to find Aurora really, really enjoyed it.

Aurora left a trail of sweet kisses on the girl’s hair, drunk not only on alcohol but also on her smell. Tayce was driving her insane, and they had not even been doing much. W ith one shift move, the blondie straddled Tayce’s body, trapping her between her legs. “Thought you liked being under?”

“You got it wrong, pretty baby.” Tayce’s breath hitched once Aurora grabbed her thighs, spreading them further apart. The blondie’s hand sneaked through her skirt, quickly finding her already damp underwear and playing with her clit through the thin lace. “I like… fuck, um, being fucked , not necessarily… under. Fuck, Rory.”

She had never heard Tayce’s voice sound so small and desperate as when she was grinding against the back of her hand. Fuck, Tayce was wet. “Feels good, baby?” Aurora managed to ask.

“Hm, yes… Need… need more.”

Aurora pulled Tayce’s panties off, and it slid through her legs till they reached the floor. Tayce spread her legs out even more whilst holding her skirt up, wanting nothing, nothing more than Aurora to just fuck her as she wanted.

“You’re so fucking hot, Tayes… God, you’re wet.”

Tayce smiled smugly once again. “Like it? All for you- ah! Fuck.” She couldn’t keep her volume down once Aurora dropped to her knees and stuck her tongue out, licking right above her folds and fumbling her clit up and down. She smiled at the reactions Tayce was having, already having her hands entangled in Aurora’s curls, trying to guide her head. But oh, she would not let Tayce have her way so easily. Aurora sucked her thighs, her stomach. Lifted her leg and gave her a slap in the ass. Tayce had to hold her position with both hands, but the moans got louder the closer Aurora got to her center.

“Rory, be a darling and do what you gotta do!”

Aurora kissed her thigh once more. She was up for some teasing, definitely. “Weren’t you the one who made me ask for everything just now? Tell me what you want, Tayes.”

“Eat me out. Right now.” Aurora arched a brow. “… Please.”

“Good girl.” Tayce didn’t even have time to register the pet name properly before Aurora went down on her. Straight to her swollen, wanting clit. She kissed it, sucked the very tip before pulling it back and exposing her even more; that was when she started to rapidly flick her tongue against it.

“Fuck, Rory, just like that… Ah, fuck.”

Aurora’s middle finger pressed against Tayce’s entrance. The other hand helped keep her in place.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…” Tayce was far too gone to care about her cool image. She just wanted Aurora inside her as soon as possible. And Aurora gave it to her, how could she deny such a thing? She forced two of her fingers against the girl’s entrance. She did not need much though, for Tayce was dripping wet Aurora thrust her fingers in and out, curving her knuckles frantically inside of Tayce to reach her spot. By the sounds she was making, absolutely wrecked and stupid, it was working damn well. “More. More, Rory, fuck…”

Aurora was rapturous having that woman moaning her name like crazy. She had fucked a lot of people during her lifetime, but this was something else. The haunting thought she was simply a one-night stand for Tayce made her frown, but her brain was so full of all-things-Tayce she simply dismissed it quickly. She was there, Tayce was there and making her feel like the only woman in the world. She wanted nothing but to please her girl.

My girl? She’s not my girl. Stop thinking!

“Rory, more, please, use your tongue again, ah- fuck… Yes, fuck, you’re so good...” Aurora hummed in satisfaction against her, which caused a bolt to run through Tayce’s body. “Oh, fuck. I’m … getting… close, princess…”

Princess. Aurora did not know a simple word could have such an effect on her. Her hands started working faster, fucking Tayce harder, harder, harder until she could not take it anymore. Tayce was squirming, shaking, her legs could not stay still. She had to let it out. She had to. Had to. “Fuck, I’m so close, fuck…” Aurora increased the speed of her tongue as well. Her clit was so damn sensitive it hurt. She needed release, so bad, so bad, so bad and...

“Fuck!” Tayce cried out as an orgasm washed over her body, pulling Aurora’s head even closer to her, rocking her hips back and forth against her fingers whilst Aurora pumped them in and out the fastest she could, helping the girl ride her high. “Ah, Rory, fuck… Fuck.” Tayce’s previously shaking body had lost all its tension. She felt like jello. A cute smile lit up her face. “Fuuuck. That was good.”

Aurora climbed back up to her bed. She seemed just as content. “Was it?”

Tayce rolled her eyes. “Yeah, ask as if you didn’t just watch me cum my brains out for you. Of course, it was good! Whoa.” Aurora’s right hand peeked inside her own damp panties. “Do you want some help over there, princess?”

“No, just stay there looking pretty. I’ll cum in no time, I swear to you.”

And Tayce did as told, losing herself in Aurora’s lips as the blondie rubbed herself with tiny circles, moaning against the kisses every now and then. She was so worked up from getting Tayce off, relishing in the memories of her whimpers and her taste and just… everything. It really took no time for Aurora to get closer and closer and closer and cum all over her own hands. Fucking hell, she was satisfied. Very satisfied.

“I like you.” Tayce intertwined her fingers around Aurora’s slick, wet hand before guiding it to her mouth and licking it clean. It was kinda hot, but her eyes were so wide and doe if seemed almost… innocent. As if they had not spent the past few minutes fucking like horny teens. It was cute somehow. “I know we barely converse, but you’re pretty, fun, and sexy as hell. And girl, talk about that tongue! So… if you’re interested in like, going on a date, I’m so down.”

Aurora chuckled. “Hah. Thought I’d be a one-night stand.”

“Same. You always have a different girl with you… But thought I should shoot my shot since we came all the way here. Literally, came…” they both smiled. “So… what do you say?”

“I’d absolutely love to go on a date with you, Tayes. ” Anyone would. Can’t believe she chose me, amongst them all…

“Guess it’s a deal then, Rory. When are you free?”

“Pick me up tomorrow at eight.” Aurora thought better. “Or just stay here, we’ll see what we can do.”

“Perfect.”

They cuddled (“I knew you were a little spoon, Rory!”). Aurora couldn’t ignore her friends’ perfect timing, as her phone shone indicating a new message had been received in their group chat:

Tee:

whora ru alive 🥺 or did she fuck u so hard u dead now?

Bims:

Hope you didn’t give her syphilis x

Tee:

thatd be u and joey only,, the syphilis couple. my girl whora is TESTED x

Bims:

Heard from Joey you got laid too, he saw you walking out the club with a piece!!

Tee:

and awhora had the nerve tell me i wouldnt fuck anyone with my button up shirt huh

Bims:

Y’all nasty 🥰 now excuse me I gotta go get pounded as well lmao goodnight babes x

Tee:

no bims we cant go. theyre lesbians. what if they get married in the meantime and we dont even hear about it!

Whora:

Goodnight hoes and nooo not yet! But she’s taking me out tomorrow yikes

Tee:

aaand shes sleeping there

Whora:

Yeah <3

Tee:

👀👀👀

Bims:

Give them 3 months, Tia. x

Whora:

Luv u hounds! nightie

Tee:

nightie !!

Bims:

Nightie!

#rpdr fanfiction #taywhora #rpdr uk #uk2 #tayce #a'whora #lesbian au #smut #fluff #clubbing #pet names #dom bottom tayce #vena #concrit welcome #submission

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soulwillower · 4 years

Text

if you’re too shy • richie tozier

(richie tozier x cam girl!reader smut)

[based off the song if you’re too shy (let me know) by the 1975.]

requested: i can't find it lol BUT 🤍anon (i think) requested a fic based off of the 1975′s new song, if you’re too shy let me know !!

warnings: swearing, alcohol use, switch!richie kinda, smut, unprotected sex, a tiny bit of cumplay i guess, mentions of phone sex, oral sex (female receiving), face sitting, a bit of dirty talking, UNEDITED as always

also i wrote this in a different style than usual and idk if i like it much but u can let me know what u guys think,, if its weird i can go in and change the povs since its 3rd person richie

[losers + reader are 21+ in this.]

7.4k words lol

♡

i see her online all the time i'm trying not to stare down there while she talks about her tough time

"h-hey, man, who's that?" the voice from right next to richie makes him damn near leap out of his seat. it makes beverly chuckle a bit as she takes a bite of her apple, shaking her head. "it’s nobody." richie says quickly as he tilts his phone towards his chest and shoots a toothy grin to bill. his friend raises his full eyebrows, "wh-what, so n-nobody was sending you n-nudes?"

"something like that." richie mutters, stomach fluttering as the image flashes in his mind’s eye - the curves, the dark red lace, the plush skin painting a perfect scene in richie’s vivid imagination.

richie looks back down at the photo. his his thumbs hover over the profile picture; he'd found her originally on his instagram explore page, the photos teasing and immediately he had to know more. y/n.

and then a few days later, he'd subscribed to her only fans, which he never quite thought he'd do with anyone, but he couldn't help it. she was so enticing, so perfect and so alluring. it was the playfulness that pulled him in; and he swears he's never lusted after somebody like he has with her. it was kind of starting to freak him out.

"is that o-onlyfans?" bill says and richie shoves bill's nosy face off his shoulder with a panicked grunt. "fuck off, mushmouth."

bill laughs and stan and bev perk up from across the table, staring at the two, interests suddenly piqued. "did you subscribe to a girl's onlyfans, rich?" stan says with a grin, setting his pen down on his notebook.

richie just smirks and wiggles his brows a bit, enough to confirm his question. bill chuckles from next to richie.

"let me see." bev says, wiggling her manicured nails in a "gimme" motion. richie hands his phone over with red cheeks. normally he wouldn't care about his friends discovering he's paid money just to see a hot chick's bod, but this was different. for some reason, he felt connected to her. god, that thought made him want to slam his head against a brick wall. she doesn't even know him, for all he knows she could live in the middle of.... montana, or like, ohio.

bev whistles and stan nods, "if i looked like that," bev mumbles as she tosses richie's phone back towards him, "i'd do that too. mad props."

noises of agreement fill the table but richie's just looking at the small smirk that peeks from the corner of one of the photos and he can't help but wonder what her eyes are like in real life. he wishes he could meet her.

girl of your dreams, you know what i mean there's something 'bout her stare that makes you nervous and you say things that you don't mean

it's a cold day when bill and richie find themselves stumbling in to the coffee shop for a drink. bill's muttering about some girl in his creative writing class that gave him head when richie's eyes catch a figure so familiar yet foreign that he stops dead in his tracks. bill turns to him, face confused. "r-richie, what's wrong w-with you?"

richie shakes his head, stammering in disbelief, "that-that's her, bill. the girl, from onlyfans. y/n." he whispers, gesturing with his eyes towards the girl working the register.

bill’s jaw goes slack, green eyes raking over her form and igniting richie’s stomach with boiling rage. as if bill’s doing something that only richie is allowed to do – as if they're not both being total creeps.

“h-holy sh-shit. she’s b-beautiful.” bill mumbles. richie elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare that prompts an eye-roll from his auburn haired friend.

richie swallows and watches, his throat feeling like sandpaper as she laughs at something the customer in front of them said. bill nudges richie, "i-i'm gonna get a s-seat. t-talk to her."

he winks and grins as he walks away, leaving richie with his reckless self. he thinks he's sweating through his sweater as he walks up, finding himself face-to-face with her. "hi, how can i help you?" she asks, giving him a smile

holyshitholyshitholyshit.

he might've just came right then and there. okay, he's gotta say something cool, something smooth. don't be a dumbass, tozier.

"howdy, sugar. i'll have my coffee like i like my women." his mouth blurts as his brain sirens go off, PUT ON THE BRAKES, RICH – "a hot shock to the lap.”

she glares at him, cheeks light pink and eyebrows pulled together in annoyance and yep, richie's probably going to get hard because of that look but he's also probably going to toss his body off a bridge because what the fuck, tozier?

he can hear bill laughing quietly from a ways away and he quickly shakes his head, muttering quietly, "jail. jail, richard."

"funny." she deadpans, clearly not amused. because of course she isn't.

"sorry, i'll have a black coffee, y/n." he mutters, eyes widening to himself when he realizes she was not wearing a goddamn name tag and he just said her name.

this is a disaster. she gives him a bewildered, slightly creeped out look and if richie wasn't panicking, he'd gape at how she still managed to be effortlessly gorgeous even now.

he sighs, shaking his head, the door of the cafe opening and blowing a gust of frigid air through the warm room. fitting - douche chill.

"look, toots, i don't want this to be weird. i- um, i recognize you." he says, cheeks aflame. she raises a brow, face straight for a few moments, unsure what he means.

it's not long after when recognition flashes over her own face - must have ruled out coffee shop, university and her local gym - and she nods with a tight, almost uncomfortable smile.

he tries not to think of the livestream he watched last night where she showed all her new gifts and modeled lingerie, and how he’d spent his time to himself with his left hand immediately after watching. his cheeks are red with shame.

"okay." is all she says, writing down a scribbled order on the coffee cup. her eyes shoot back up and give richie a once-over that really makes his fingers itch - god, why did he have to be this way?

he almost runs his fingers through his curls but decides against it, eyes opting to focus on her own gorgeous eyes as they meet him. "i'm impressed i have a fan who looks like you, i must say. even if you are a complete jack ass." she purrs and his jaw nearly smacks the floor at its velocity as it flies open.

"what's that supposed to mean?" he asks then with a small grin, flattered at the tiniest of compliments that just barely, in his mind, eclipsed the insult that he so very much deserved.

"i'm saying you're kind of a dick. it's too bad, because you're real cute." she says casually, handing him his change. his stomach flips and butterflies release in his chest, a feeling that he's not felt in almost five years.

but damn, of course he messed up - he got the chance to talk to the hottest girl on earth and he started it by saying an awful joke that wasn't funny at all. of course she though he was a dick, he is one.

he's shocked, though, as he waits for his coffee with bill, who is still snickering into his hand every few moments, to find his coffee cup with extra sharpie scribbled on the white paper. a name.

y/n. and below it is a phone number with a small heart scribbled, and richie can't tell if it's a seven or a one but he figures he'd try every phone number in the damn state if it meant he could fucking text her. holy fuck.

"maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i'm not playing with you, baby i think that you should give it a go" she said, "maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i wanna see, and stop thinking if you're too shy, then let me too shy, then let me know"

he didn't text her for two days and three hours. yes, he counted it. no, he won't think about why he was obsessing over the numbers - but since the time he'd finally had found the courage to text her today, things have escalated proficiently.

she'd just mentioned how hot it was in her apartment since her heater had gone haywire - even though the winter winds were cold, she'd claimed she was burning up in what she was wearing.

and the mere mention of her clothing had sent richie into somewhat of a spiral, spending at least seven minutes glued to his phone and scrolling through the saved album he had of those photos of her that she'd posted; his sweatpants getting increasingly tight and his palm suddenly aching to slip through the fabric and find some release.

but, in true trashmouth fashion, he apparently needed that sweet, sweet rejection from a hot cam girl he'd somehow weaseled into getting the number of in order to wank off properly, so he types out a text and hits send immediately.

what are you wearing?

and then he almost vomits in embarrassment – what was she going to think? did he just royally fuck up? oh god, he’s going to have to shave his head and move to canada.

his phone buzzes and he nearly passes out when he lays his eyes upon the image attached – there her body is again, curvy and full and beautiful, her skin glowing in the fading light of what he assumes is her bedroom. and with it:

this. what are you wearing, rich?

and then he pulls his gaze from his phone and stands, breathing heavily because holy shit.

he's gotten nudes before, but.... none from someone like her. holy shit.

he walks to his bathroom, splashing water on his beet-red cheeks. he swallows, staring at himself in the mirror. fuck.

he slaps his cheek once, then winking at himself in attempt to muster any sliver of confidence. and then he snaps a picture, only in his boxers.

and then he has to physically refrain from making a joke about wearing the same lingerie set as her, instead sending a flirty text that he knows any other woman would blush at. he just doesn’t know with y/n, and maybe that’s why he loves it so much. she's keeping him on his toes.

you like what you see?

he sends that one afterwards, shaking his head because oh my god, she's going to respond with "no" and then bill him $40 for the nude she sent him. not that he wouldn't pay, but...

his phone dings and he nearly breaks an ankle running to his desk.

yeah, i do. but maybe i'd like you better without any clothes on.

he almost yells out loud at this, but he has a feeling that waking up stan in the middle of the night would not be optimal after their 'roommate agreement' they'd made that explicitly states richie cannot scream between 1am - 9am. so instead he smirks to himself, face turning red.

he's getting harder by the moment, and as he stares at that picture she'd sent earlier, he lets out a breathy groan. the lace....

we could face time yk

or we don't have to.

he reads her words in live time, watching the thought bubble appear again and watching it like a hawk. he can just imagine her sitting there with a small smirk as another text comes in and he almost groans as his dick twitches.

like, if you're too shy or something ;)

he stares at the screen for two seconds at that sinful photo she'd sent just before those texts and then sighs, shaking his head and pressing the green face-time call button.

i've been wearing nothing every time i call you and i'm starting to feel weird about it sometimes it's better if you think about it this time, i think i'm gonna drink through it

three days later, richie was undeniably and unequivocally drunk. but, as he's just explained about three times to mike, he knows that it is just easier to not think right, especially about her, right now - and the best way to do that is by getting so piss drunk that even if he tried to "hit her line," as he so eloquently put it, his dick would be too whiskey'd out to make a full appearance.

it's for the best. mike had fake gagged at richie’s cadence with a laugh, but richie was dead serious because he was starting to think he had a real issue.

it was obviously just a fun thing to do between two near-strangers, but he'd found that he was starting to almost pavlov-style condition himself into getting turned on every time the name y/n came across his recent texts or face times, and it was getting to be too much.

especially when her post notification popped up and he cracked a fatty in the middle of his econ lecture. christ, the point of elasticity of markers in the u.s. was not something he pictured when he usually had to quell a pitch in his tent. so yeah, it's too much.

because yes, he loves her fucking body and wants nothing more than her, but in truth he longs for the feeling of her skin against his; to touch her, to kiss her, to make her his. all the time.

but yet, it was just a good way to get off without all the strings and ribbons and yarn and whatever the fuck her soft-looking knit bra is made from attached.

so much for not thinking about her.

but i see her online (and don't think that i should be calling) all the time (i just wanted a happy ending) and i'm pretending i don't care about her stare while she's giving me a tough time

it’s noon the next day and he's laying in (for some reason) stan's bed instead of his own with a blinding, mind-splitting headache and an insatiable craving for a cheeseburger, eyes squinting in lust and something akin to shame as he watches the livestream y/n had just started. she’s in a slip – a very thin, silk and see through slip and it makes him more frustrated than he’s willing to admit.

as he stares at her smooth skin and wonders how it'd be to touch it all, her eyes catch something in the chat and she smiles coyly. "hi, rich." she purrs and richie almost chokes - holy shit, she saw him join.

"do you like my gift i just got?" she asks coyly, snapping the straps of her bra with a small smile and he stiffens almost instantly, thinking of how many times he'd seen her skin in videos and photos that were just for him.

how she'd moaned his name two nights ago on face time, her fingers buried inside herself slightly off-camera. and oh, how he wishes he could see all of her, but they'd not crossed that line yet - anything they'd done hadn't been yet proven visually, only from facial expressions, noises, and the brutal honestly of being together through face time.

he wants her so fucking bad, he needs her like he needs water to drink and air to breathe and it's murdering him as he watches her react to the chat of her livestream, playing with the hem of her black lace panties.

god, he needs a cold shower or something if he's going to get anything done today.

and then he's calling her an a few hours after her stream ends because he just can't wait - he feels his stomach twist with shame as he realizes he should not be doing such a certainly a terrible idea. but she answers after three rings. "richie." her siren voice purrs and he literally feels himself fall deeper into the pit.

"hi there, toots. got any coffee in the pot for me?" he asks, sounding surprisingly eloquent compared to how she normally makes him feel.

she hums in fake thought, and it makes richie grin. she's fucking adorable. "come to the shop, i have my break in ten." and then she hangs up. he sighs, rubbing his face with his hand as he shakes his head. he's utterly fucked.

he's there in record time, a smirk plastered on his face as he walks in and sees her sitting at a table, lookin' all pretty. just for him.

"what made you think of calling?" she says in loo of a greeting. he sits across from her and wills his eyes to meet hers. "nothin' toots." he says with a half shrug, taking a sip of the coffee placed in front of him that has the the name 'dick' written on it in her handwriting. he rolls his eyes affectionately.

"oh, so it wasn't anything to do with my livestream this morning?" she asks with a look, eyeing him. her eyes are swimmable, they hold so many stories and secrets and maybe richie's just hungover, but he's feeling very flustered.

"we-w, uh, no. what... what are you talking about?" he rolls his eyes at himself inwardly, cursing stuttering bill and his contagious speech patterns. "-i don't know what you're talking about, sugar." he recovers fairly smoothly, if he may toot his own horn. and honestly, he can pretend not to care as long as he doesn't look into that goddamn stare of hers.

he chuckles awkwardly, cheeks aflame as she stares at him with a bored look and a small hum. she still looks perfect and he's even more nervous now, because oh god, oh fuck, he's gonna get slapped in the face by y/n.

it was pretty unspoken since they'd started doing... stuff... that richie probably still watched her content online, but she'd never fully addressed it until today during the livestream in front of a thousand others.

he's choking on his spit in shame but then a smile splits her face and richie's sure he's suffocated on his own saliva and gone to a sinner's heaven. or maybe hell.

"oh, richie, i'm just teasing you. look at your face!" she says with an airy laugh, pinching his cheeks and making him want to shrivel up as he turns even redder. what the fuck? "-so cute. alright, i've got to get back to work. i'll see you around, rich." she says with a wink, taking her coffee and tossing it into the trash bin as she stalks towards the employee back room.

he gapes as he watches her leave and then gets up and makes his way to the exit, clutching the coffee like it was trying to jump out of his grasp and make a run for it. god, she's too much.

"maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i'm not playing with you, baby i think that you should give it a go" she said, "maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i wanna see, and stop thinking If you're too shy, then let me too shy, then let me know"

"-babe, you'll have to try harder than that." richie says with a chuckle, watching his phone screen as the beautiful girl on face time gives him a sly, challenging look. she's in a green lace bra, one richie's not seen yet and he can feel himself stiffen as she absently trails her fingers over her chest.

they'd been much closer over the last week since he last saw her in person, enough so that in the three-is weeks of knowing her, he's positive he's head over ass for her in a way that he shouldn't be. and yet, she still comes back every time, still texts him and answers those face time calls. he's baffled, honestly.

"i know you hate me because i'm right." he adds, not even totally remembering what point he's trying to prove as y/n shifts back a bit and more of her body is revealed, her hair glowing dimly in the soft lighting of her room. his eyes run over her curves, her full thighs and stomach and hips that fill over her panties and he almost groans.

"whatever, maybe i'd like you better if you took off your clothes." she says coyly. and richie's half flattered, as usual, but the more he thinks of it the more deflated he feels. he kind of thought they were growing something more than just getting each other off over face time like horny fifteen year olds. he grins nonetheless.

"you say that a lot, you know." richie says breathlessly as he stares at her. she tilts her head ever so slightly and grins, biting her lip as her eyes move around her screen with a conflicted look. "-why?" he adds.

she hums again.

"well. okay, so there's the visual world - like, the internet, onlyfans, instagram- it tells us that everything is amazing. and we should want everything. and it makes us yearn for everything that we don’t have and everything that’s unobtainable. you know, love, a relationship beyond physical. and even physical, it's different when it's online."

her words confuse him much more than they aid him. "you think... that because of the internet, love is unattainable?" he asks with furrowed brows, unsure how somebody so perfect and, quite frankly, lovable, would think that.

"it is for me." she says it with a small sense of forlorning but mostly it's whispered. enough that richie's heart skips a beat and he's, for the first time, not having a hard time keeping his eyes on her face instead of her body.

"what?" he asks dumbly. she just laughs, shaking her head and he stares at her on his tiny phone screen in the dark.

"that’s something that, you know. in real life, person to person, it has a lot of connotations of... trust and vulnerability and connection. doing what i do- and what we're doing… on the internet - it has the opposite of those connotations. like, before you, i didn't- i didn't really do this, i just was selling stuff. because guys don't want to fuck the girl who sells her body online. and you know now, i want to..." she trails off and richie doesn't dare interrupt her because he thinks she's about to say something he's wanted to tell her for a while now.

"i don't know, i guess. exploring someone's body in physical presence isn't seen at all as voyeuristic, or anything apart from...like, an intimate exchange." she says it casually, brushing hair from her face and shit, richie's swooning. he's in fucking love, he knows it, because y/n is so smart and intelligent and he's so fucking trashed for her. as she speaks, her hands move and distract him slightly from her body, doused in blue light from the screen and splayed out for him and only him on her phone camera.

the soft lace on her hips and chest make his body stiffen and it causes him to suppress a groan as she sighs, but richie knows he can’t screenshot this heavenly sight because she’ll definitely notice and she can probably already tell he’s having a hard time not staring at her alluring figure as she talks.

"-whereas, you know. as soon as it happens on the internet, it becomes kinky and cam-girly. and, you know, that's fine. i love doing it. it's just, i'm not sure where the authentic communication even is now. or if i get to have a happy ending." she says and he finally sees her blush for the first time.

he wishes he was there with her, he wishes that he could touch the redness on her cheeks and caress her curvy body and taste her skin on his tongue. he wants to feel himself inside her, he wants to be with her and kiss her lips and yet he can't, so he sighs and shifts in his position, moving to turn up the brightness of his phone so he can see better.

"shouldn't you get to be the one to decide that, doll?" is all he adds. because he feels kind of lost and just as confused as y/n is with this.

he's starting to feel weird about it, because... is this authentic? what makes things like hookups or whatever the hell they've been doing authentic? shouldn't this be easy? it's just phone sex, phone sex with a really hot girl.

a girl who is complex and alive and full of sincerity and richie is definitely falling harder than he should.

she just sighs but makes no other comment. and then they just stare at each other, richie's face illuminated in his dark room by the phone's reflection.

well, i found a motel it looked like the bins i think there'd been a murder so we couldn't get in i need to get back i've gotta see the girl on the screen

"come over and watch a movie with me." he says into the phone, biting his lip. the silence from the other end of the line is deafening as she makes her decision, because they both know she's not about to come over just to watch the shining or psycho.

they've never done that before, and richie knows if she does come over, then whatever they have will crash down in a fiery mess. and he hates how excited that makes him as he waits in silence for her to drop the ball. so to speak.

"okay." she says, sounding shocked herself, and richie can't contain the excited grin from eclipsing his face. "yeah?" he asks breathlessly, and she's quiet for a little longer. "yeah. text me your address."

she hangs up after that, and richie's thumbs shake as he types his address and sprints out to where stan, mike, ben, and bill are playing video games in he and stan's living room, wheezing at all of them to get out because someone fucking unbelievable is about to walk through that door.

she's there about an hour later, cheeks flushed when richie opens his door, looking just as nervous and flustered. "hi, chee." she says breathlessly, staring up at him with those goddamn eyes, the eyes that pulled him in the first time. his stomach flips in affection at her nickname and he offers her a drink as she takes in his shitty apartment. he wonders briefly if stan ended up buying that rosé that he'd given him shit for considering, and then prays that stan will stay the night elsewhere.

she's already pouring out glasses of wine when he snaps back to reality, and he grins at her, mumbling in thanks as she passes him a glass that's certainly poured almost to the brim.

"what are we watching, then?" she asks coyly, lifting a brow at him. his cheeks are red, but he tugs her arm down the hall towards his room with a grin, their wine sloshing from their glasses as they move erratically.

"we're watching psycho, y/n/n." he says as he pulls her into his room, glancing back to see she's already swallowed down almost half her glass, a lipstick stain on the side of it. faintly he knows stan will be frustrated if richie doesn't clean that off, but he's more distracted by her lips.

"i like psycho." she says with a nod and a cheeky grin, "the whole 'voyeuristic gaze' thing with hitchcock." she mumbles, and richie recalls faintly learning about that in one of his film classes freshman year and he grins as he takes a hefty gulp of his rosé, figuring he's already given himself away and if she's going to do that, he can too.

he hums, setting down his glass and grabbing hers to set it besides his on the bedside table. he turns around, intending on grabbing his laptop so they could watch the film, but she's so much closer that he'd expected and her hands fall onto his shoulders and he almost shits himself.

unpleasant, but honest. just richie's style.

"can i try something?" she asks with a grin, and richie nods, knowing that she could do anything to him and he'd gladly let it happen and most likely pay out of pocket for the damages afterwards.

and then she's pulling him from her grip on his shoulders, her lips sliding against his and making him grip her hips. his mind almost explodes at with y/n-sensory-overload because he feels her everywhere - on his lips, against his hands, on his shoulders, and pressing against his front.

her lips taste like chamomile and rosé.

she thinks his lips taste like vanilla and cigarette smoke, just as she'd always imagined. he feels so real, pressed against her lips and his body against hers, and she sighs as her tongue slips into his mouth because god, she's needed him for so long. and now she has him.

his hands move, touching every inch of her as their tongues fight for dominance. she pulls back, smirking as she gently pushes him onto his mattress, sliding onto his lap smoothly afterwards, grinding her hips against his slowly.

the moan he emits is heavenly and she could cry because she finally gets to hear it in person and not through the crackling static frequency of the phone.

so she grinds down on him again, eager to feel all of him. he's hardening against her core and she whimpers into his mouth in need as his fingers slip under her top, rubbing circles on her bare skin and making her shiver. she's noticed to this gentleness; it was rare when she did get to enjoy the comfort of another body with her own, and when she did they were hardly half as loving or caring as him.

she's desperate now, she needs to feel him inside her after all these weeks of teasing and waiting, so her hand snakes down to palm him through his sweats. he lets out a small groan into her mouth, biting her lip as he pulls back slightly. their eyes meet and his are hooded with lust, lips parted as she pumps him slowly from outside his sweats. his hips buck up lightly into her palm and she smiles gently, kissing him slowly.

"let me make you feel good, y/n." he mutters, eyes pleading as he stares up at her. her stomach flutters with butterflies and she nods, shocked that he wants to pleasure her.

he gently pulls her off his lap until she's laying on his mattress and he stares down at her, biting his lip as he takes her in. he can't fucking believe she's really here. she slowly pulls off her top, leaving her in her bra and jeans as she stares up at him with a wry, seductive smile. then she unzips her jeans and slides them off, leaving her in his favorite set of hers - black, lacy, and revealing. she looks utterly stunning and he groans, his hands falling to run over the skin, tracing the lace on her breasts. her cheeks are red as she gazes up at him.

"touch me, richie." she orders and he almost groans as he drags his lips over the valley of her breasts, sucking on the soft flesh and admiring the splashes of budding purple and pink that he's created. her heartbeat is quick under his fingertips and he moves to unclip her bra, kissing her skin as the fabric falls away.

she's slightly cold in his room, and goosebumps appear over her flesh as richie leans to catch a nipple in her mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. she lets out a quiet whine that has richie rutting into the mattress next to her, his fingers trailing down to dance at the waistline of her underwear.

and then he's pulling aside her panties, his fingers running up and down her slick folds and making her jump in lust. he can't wait, just like her, and he's rubbing her clit teasingly as she pleads, "chee, please." her eyes are eyes closed in bliss as his finger slips inside her, crooking slightly as he moves it. he presses his lips to the skin of her breast, pumping his finger and then soon adding another, crooking them both in a way that makes her let out guttural moans of pleasure. he marks her breasts with littered pink and red marks, smiling to himself at her figure.

she can't help but swoon as she watches him, his hair in his face slightly until she brushes it back, his fingers curling inside her and making her gasp, pleasure coursing through her body. his thumb softly comes up to rub her neglected clit and she grabs his shoulders to steady herself, the pleasure almost too much.

she's honestly slightly shocked - knowing richie as little as she really does outside of the literal booty calls at two in the morning and the accumulative forty five minutes they'd spent in person, she'd expected him to be... well, good. just good. because there's no way someone so funny, caring, and smart could also be that good in the sheets.

but right now, he's making her see goddamn stars.

"i've been wanting to touch you for so long, sugar." he mutters, eyes raking over her figure as her breath comes in stuttering gasps. she watches him with blown-wide eyes as his demeanor changes right before her, making her fall apart at his fingertips.

"that feel good, honey?" he asks, smirking as she whimpers, clenching around his fingers. "yes, god you feel so good." she utters, making him groan in approval from where he's sat back, watching her face contort in pleasure. she lets out another moan and richie stares at her body, watching his fingers as they fuck into her. he can't take it, then.

"will you sit on my face, doll?" he blurts, and she nearly yelps out as his fingers leave her. it's abrupt, but she's started to notice that this is how he operates - impulsivity is his second nature. and she loves it.

her face burns as she nods, the thought of richie under her making her whimper with anticipation. "yes, richie, please." she moans out again and he's grinning, laying back on the mattress with a wink. "c'mere, need to taste that pretty little pussy." he mutters and she feels herself clench around nothing, desperate for him as she swings a leg around to straddle his head.

immediately, his hands wrap around her thighs, thumbs smoothing over her stretch marks as he stares up at her, eyes glinting with desire. slowly, his finger pulls the seat of her lace panties to the side and his breath hits her bare, throbbing pussy, making her breath hitch. she cards her fingers through his hair and lowers herself slightly, gasping in shock as his tongue darts out to lick a bold stripe up from her entrance to her clit.

"chee," she moans out, tightening her grip in his hair and sending a groan through his body that reverberates and makes her shiver. his lips attach to her clit and fiery pleasure snakes through her body making her legs shake, a moan escaping her lips immediately. he sucks lightly before releasing to swirl his tongue, her moans making richie impossibly harder through his sweats.

"so good, rich." she mutters and he groans, tongue spreading her wet folds and slowly prodding at her entrance, dipping in slowly before pulling out, teasing her.

she can't help but grind down slightly, making richie grip her tightly, tongue sliding into her again and making her yelp. "you taste so good, baby." he mutters lowly before slowly reattaching himself to her heat, her eyes rolling slightly at the sensation as he fucks his tongue into her. one of his hands snakes up to her ass, gripping it tightly and then slapping it, the stinging pleasure making her buck her hips against him, emitting a hiss from her.

"rich, i-" she cuts herself off with a sharp gasp, the pleasure from richie's mouth making it increasingly harder to speak. her toes curl and her head tilts back as his tongue flicks over her clit, teeth grazing it slightly and making her buck.

she's embarrassingly close already, and judging by the way richie's smirking under her, he can tell. "please, please." she mutters, hips rocking on him as his tongue swirls, nipping softly at her clit and making her cry out. "please, make me cum, 'chee." she mutters and his tongue moves quicker, hand slapping her ass again.

and then she's clenching her thighs on either side of him and grinding down as she hits her peak, moaning quietly as she shakes in pleasure on top of him. he rides through her high, lapping at her and pulling away with a grin as she moans his name dejectedly. she's worn out from the best orgasm she's ever had and he gently nudges her so he slides in between her thighs, her back now on the mattress. he kisses her cheek and she keens quietly.

"fuck me, richie." she mutters, eyes still closed. his eyes snap to hers, surprised at the dominance in her voice after how she was two seconds ago.

he moans quietly, kissing her deeply as he ruts against her and relishes in the feeling. he's pulling off his sweats and boxers in record time and then he's pumping himself as he grips her hips, turning her so she's on her stomach, ass propped up slightly. his hand runs over the smooth skin of her ass, snapping the elastic of her panties and making her moan quietly.

then he's lining up her hips with his, pulling aside the lacy seat of her underwear to press against her entrance. he waits a moment as he leans to press a soft kiss to her spine, slowly easing into her. she moans loudly as he eases in, her face pressing against the pillows. she smiles as she smells the scent she'd just recently come to know as his, his cock stretching her and filling her up fully as he buries himself to the hilt inside her.

"so tight, sugar." he mutters and she whimpers, getting antsy as she adjusts to his size. "richie, please, need it so bad." she mutters, bucking her hips back against him in need.

"say that again." he mutters, sounding strangled, and she grins into the sheets. "please fuck me, richie. need it so bad, need to feel you ruin me." she whimpers, chest fluttering in anticipation. his hands grip her hips as he pulls out of her slowly, almost as slowly as he entered, before stopping almost all the way out. she moans loudly in pleasure as he pushes back in, snapping his hips against hers and filling her completely.

she briefly thanks god that his roommate seemed to be out for the night as she moans his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

he sets a brutal pace, his cock thick as it fills her up and makes her toes curl. he pushes her hair away from her neck and presses kisses to it as he hits a spot inside her that makes her scream his name. his fingers move to pinch her nipples, rolling them as he fucks into her.

she's completely blissed out at the feeling of him inside her, so glad that he invited her over and that they finally get to touch each other. "rich, oh my god." she emits, eyes squinted shut in complete pleasure.

"fuck, toots, takin' me so well, aren't you?" he asks, hands kneading her ass before slapping her right ass cheek harshly, making her arch her back. at the new angle they both let out a groan and richie knows he'll fucking cum too soon if they stay like this, so without warning he pulls out completely.

y/n whines, breathing heavily as his hands come to flip her around. now on her back, they make eye contact and she bites her lip, pulling him in for a searing kiss that knocks the wind out of both of them. images of richie in his room alone, snaps and late-night face times play through her mind as he grips her and slides her hips down towards him on the mattress and lines himself to her again, pulling her legs up so they're against his chest before pushing in.

he gives no time to adjust to this angle and it makes her moan loudly as he hits a spot deep inside her that pulls her closer and closer to her second orgasm.

his name leaves her cherry lips like a mantra and he can't stop staring at her as he fucks her into the mattress - the way her tits bounce with his brutal pace, the way her face is twisted in pleasure, the way she clenches and spasms around his cock.

one hand grips her breast, rubbing her nipple with his thumb and forefinger as he kisses her again, addicted to her taste as he feels himself coming closer and closer to the edge.

"chee, fuck, right there." she moans out and he groans in pleasure, the feeling of her walls clenching around him making his hips stutter. he keeps his thrusts up, though, as her fingernails rake down his back leaving small trails of burning pleasure in their wake.

her skin is covered with a sheen line of sweat as she looks up at him, hair wild and lips kiss-bruised. "god, don't stop, 'm gonna cum." she mutters and he snaps his hips harder, eager to make her cum so hard all she can think of is his name.

he moves a hand down to rub at her clit and he moans into her neck as she clenches hard around him, her hips bucking spastically. he can tell she's about to cum, and after a hard thrust, she does for the second time, spasming around him and sending waves of pleasure up his body. she's moaning his name, pulling him closer in bliss as she becomes sensitive and god damn it, she's so fucking beautiful.

"please cum, richie." she whispers against his lips, "please." and then at her will, he's spilling into her, hips stuttering as he pushes as deep into her as he can, loving how she clenches in sensitivity around him. he stays inside her for a moment as they breathe, coming down from their highs and eyes closed as they take in what just happened.

"holy shit." he says because yeah, that's like all he can say right now because he just got to fuck y/n and she's kissing his fucking collarbones right now and its making him blush and his heart flutter.

"that was...incredible." she whispers against his skin and he can feel her smile against his skin. it makes him feel all soft inside as he pulls out of her and flops next to her, kissing her forehead.

his fingers flutter over her sensitive core, smiling as he sees how wrecked she is, some cum dripping down her leg. he then soothes over the lace panties, patting her lightly and kissing her red cheek.

"rich?" she asks, making him look up at her. he hums in question, pushing some of her hair back. "can we still watch the movie?"

his heart swells and he grins, kissing her softly. "of course, doll. you're too cute." he says with a wink, making her roll her eyes. he hands her his shirt and then pulls sweats on himself, mumbling "stay here" and padding out to the kitchen to get her water and snacks, then returning minutes later to see her holding his phone in her clutch with a smirk.

"what're you doing?" he asks with a smile, but she shakes her head, making grabby hands for him and the snacks. so he laughs, cuddling up with the girl of his dreams and watching a flick, falling sleep with tangled limbs and a lipstick-stained neck.

and after she leaves the next morning with a kiss and a wink, he checks his phone and smirks to himself as he notices the lock screen she'd apparently made last night while he was making snacks.

a photo of her in his bed, wearing his shirt, a soft smirk on her face, neck littered in budding hickeys and a hand between her thighs next to her black lace panties.

god, she's going to be the absolute death of him.

//tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @emnotm @moon-shine-baby @toziershmozier @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @beauregard-s@finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss \\

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #richie has adhd #losers x reader #losers club x reader

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baekhypnotized · 4 years

Text

drive me crazy [M]

it’s a just normal occasion that baekhyun brought you out for a dinner with one of his partner. everything was perfect at the first but when his friend mentioned about his rival, he became intense. on the way back home, you decided to make him relieve his stress, made him go crazy.

GENRE: smut, romance, oneshot

PAIRING: byun baekhyun x you/fem reader

WARNING(S): fingering, oral, handjob, blowjob, car sex, dom!baekhyun, sub!reader

WORDS: 3.3k+

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I improvise this oneshot so I decided to post it out. But, I’m so sorry if my writing skills are still suck because I kinda having problems with my insecurities towards writing :( sorry for any common errors and for the bad smut oneshot too. will try to improve more in the future!! please leave some of your thoughts after reading this!! thank you in advance for dropping by and read!!

Byun Baekhyun is just a busy businessman, the greatest CEO in the city as he owns almost all of the shares in Byun Corporation which it's his family company. At a very young age, he became the Chairman just because his father fell sick as he was unable to contribute himself into his hectic schedules or not, he will get a heart attack due to high blood pressure.

Instead, Baekhyun took the biggest role among his siblings because his eldest, Baekbeom, is busy handling their company in China plus he already has two children and it does make sense that Baekhyun is the most perfect one to take the position other than his close relatives.

But, here you are, always be by his side to support him no matter what happens. Even though Baekhyun said you are his pillar of strength in his life, he is your source of light. He shines brightly in your life the moment he came in the first place. The one who taught you that life doesn't only revolve around you, where problems can be solved even if it takes thousands of years. That man helps you a lot to realise that you’re that kind of person who deserves to live in this world.

"Babe..." A soft tone calling you.

Currently, you are reading your book on the bed with Baekhyun, sleeping soundly beside me as he hugs your lap lazily like a child. You divert your gaze to him, stroking your fingers through his messy, fluffy permed hair full of adoration. Putting aside your book on the bedside table, you bend your body with your arm supporting your head. You continue to stroke his hair softly, trying to coax him from his exhaustion.

Baekhyun's eyes are still tightly shut but his cute snores have turned into several sighs. He had a sleepless night before, busying himself into meetings with shareholders, business partners and also piles of paperwork.

"Yes, Baekhyun?" You reply to his call.

"I’m fucking tired..." He confesses and again, he leaves out a huge sigh. Your lips tilt into a small smile before you plant a soft kiss on his crown a little bit longer, hoping it will soothe him a bit.

"I know, baby. I know. Have some rest, hmm?"

"I can't. We can't. We have dinner with my business partner from London, remember?" He replies. You almost forgot that he told you two days before that he's going to bring you together with him to the dinner since he wants to introduce you as someone who's the most important to him to them. But, right now, you would want to force him to stay at home instead, telling them he will not be able to join the dinner since he's sick or something. Baekhyun can pay all the expensive dishes for his business partners just to give him the bill.

Yet, he's not the kind of person that you know.

Baekhyun is a responsible man, always prioritises and cares about his company more than himself because he wants his dad to be proud of him but of course, his dad is already proud of him no matter what. His dad once told you to always remind him to not immerse himself too much in this business because at once, he will never have thoughts about his health. Like the one that his parents believe in, you moved into his apartment after you graduated from your university and since then, you are the one who's taking care of everything about him.

"But Baekhyun..." You are about to fight him when he suddenly cuts you off with placing his soft lips on yours, indulging into a long, passionate kiss. Baekhyun brings his calloused hands to cup your cheeks, tilting his head a bit to devour your wet cavern deeper. Involuntarily, both of you sit up, as you are wrapping your hands around his neck while he pulls you to sit on his lap. The two of you drown into the long kiss, able to replace all the kisses that you guys were supposed to exchange always for the past few days when he was busy.

He breaks the kiss, tugging a strand of your hair that is hiding your face behind the ear. Your heart flutters as you could feel your face flush. "I’m sorry for not being with you for the past few days, babe. I'll make it up to you later." He lifts your chin up to look into his eyes straightly, "Cross my heart."

You bob your head several times, placing your head slowly on his broad chest as you inhale your favourite scent of his that gives you comfort somehow. Baekhyun places his chin on your head, caressing your hands adoringly as the two of you stay in this position for a few minutes before starting to prepare for tonight's dinner.

He wears a royal blue tuxedo, pairing with a silver metallic wristwatch from Rolex and his hair was combed nicely, making him look the hottest tonight. As for you, you wear a short satin silk dress in also royal blue colour to match with his tuxedo. You dangled a pair of crystal blue earrings and also a wonderful expensive necklace that Baekhyun bought for you together with the dress. You slip yourself into blue high heels and bring your pouch to the dinner.

Baekhyun prefers to drive his Black Audi Rs7 rather than having his private driver to drive the two of you to the restaurant. The interior of the car was designed beautifully as it suits well with him. Maybe that's why he prefers driving his favourite car. And whenever he drives the car while using only one hand on his steering, somehow he looks so magnificent. Every time he focuses on the road, he slides his other hand to intertwine with your hand, planting a kiss on the back of your hand. That small action can make your heart beats like there's no tomorrow.

Baekhyun makes you fall in love with him every second of the time.

When the both of you arrive at the restaurant as he parks his car, Baekhyun guides you to the private dining room that he reserved by placing his hand behind your waist, keeping you close to him because there were a lot of people on our way as he’s afraid of losing me among the crowds.

"Baekhyun!" A man who looks like in our age greets him from afar as the two of you go closer to the table. Baekhyun sincerely greets his business partner with a warm hug while you shake hands with his escorts.

"Finally, you’re here in Korea! Let's take our seats, shall we?" Baekhyun invites all of us to take our seats as I land myself sitting right beside him. Baekhyun comfortably places his hand on your thigh, caressing it. You do have fear as you would become so nervous with strangers but thanks to him, you feel calm and giving a bright smile across your face.

"Jack, let me introduce you to my favourite girl," He introduces your name to his business partner as you lift yourself from your seat to shake hands politely with Jack.

"Nice to meet you! Baekhyun often tells me about you!" Jack says that cause you to flush. The thoughts of Baekhyun mentioning you to his friends make you blush because obviously he wouldn’t stop doing it as he in love with you. Like deeply.

The waitress comes to your table, handing the menu booklet to each everyone. Once you open the menu to take a look at the choices, you are stupefied by staring at the price. It was extremely pricey that makes you gulp a large lump in your throat.

"Baby, order anything that you want," He murmurs, pats your thighs to assure you to choose anything that you want. Well, he's too rich to pay for the dishes for sure. After the four of you guys order the food, Baekhyun and Jack start to discuss the business while me and Maria (Jack's escort) exchange stories about our countries.

You sneakily take a few glances on Baekhyun, feeling ease seeing him laughing out loud when Jack tells him some jokes. You are very delighted to see him in this way even when he talks about his company's business. The qualms that you worry finally lessen slowly.

The food expressly arrives after a few minutes but as usual for women, Maria and you take pictures of the dishes first, leaving the men snorting silently as they are watching both of you. After a few shots, the four of you finally devour the dishes. For real, the foods are so mouth-watering, making all of you guys busy indulging the good food silently and focus.

"Anyway, do you know that Park Corporation is currently trying to win some of our shareholders' attention?" Jack asks, causing Baekhyun to stop swallowing his food. You can see his face becomes tighter and the facial expression becomes serious and intense.

"Really? Has he succeeded then?" He asks in return. Baekhyun, trying his best to not spoil the dinner, casually continues to cut his beef.

"Our shareholders' grip strongly on our trust, Baekhyun. But you know how determined he is, trying to let your business down..." Jack expresses it slowly, understanding that Baekhyun also has his own temper that he needs to control when it comes to his company.

Baekhyun grabs his expensive wine, gulping it, "No worries, we will never lose them." He replies with a small smile, trying to not make Jack worry about the current situation. "Let's finish this up, guys. It's getting late already."

The moment becomes silent because no one is brave enough to utter anything currently. Including you. you could only caress his thigh softly in circles, murmurs discreetly into his ears saying, "Everything's going to be fine, baek." You comfort him with a soft tone.

When the dinner ends, we bid goodbyes to Jack and Maria, inviting them for a tour later when they have more leisure time to visit Korea because Jack has a business that he needs to settle back in London, that's why they need to catch the next flight by tonight.

The drive back to the apartment continues to become silent. you hate this kind of moment when Baekhyun looks so scary and serious as you are afraid to talk to him. But you know, only you can break him through that intense moment between the both of us. Daringly, you travel your hand to his crotch, begin to massage his clothed members slowly but pleasurably, causing him to hiss softly.

Baekhyun tries his best to focus on the road, gripping the steering wheel tighter the moment you continue to massage his balls. You slip your hand into his pants and boxers, feeling his bare meat as you grip your fingers around his member. He’s so fucking thick. You take out his member freely from his pants, playfully playing with his red tip using your thumb pad in circles.

"B-baby.." He calls.

You ignore him, start pumping his shaft around your fingers by adding more pressure. Moans start to elicit out of his mouth. You continue to cup his big balls with your other hand, trying to make him crazy while you're working out with his cock with your hands. When the veins at his dick start to protrude as it starts to stand proudly and hard, a few pre-cums start to release. "Eyes on the road, Mr Byun."

You begin to engulf his whole long length into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down your mouth while taking a glance at his pleasurable face. You can finally taste his small amount of juices in your mouth. Moans and low grunts are escaping as Baekhyun slams his head back to the headrest. He tries his best to focus on the road, trying to avoid us from getting caught into an accident. You could see the visible veins decorating his throbbing dick.

It didn't take long before Baekhyun finally surrender . He purposely bucked his hips upwards, accidentally causing his tip to hit the back of your throat as you gag having his cock fully inside your wet cavern. You try your best to give him the pleasure that he wants since he loves it when you mercilessly give him the blowjob. Your tears start to prickle in the corner of your eyes each and every time Baekhyun's cock hits your throat as you are breathing heavily through your nose this time.

"F-Fuck... it feels so good, baby-" He mutters as he moans. The sounds of you gagging and choking yourself with his big cock is the music into his ears where he doesn't need to turn on the radio. But instead, listen to that drench and sloppy wet sounds that you’re making with his throbbing dick. You are speeding your pace to engulf his cock as it's abusing your mouth.

"I'm coming, baby..." Baekhyun warns you with his husky yet breathy voice. Before he succeeded in releasing his juices into your mouth, he parked the car safely, somewhere as it's a perfect place to hide the car from other people's sights.

Baekhyun tightens the grip on the steering wheel, causing his knuckles to turn into white the moment he releases his hot seeds into your wet cavern, leaving a loud gasp. You try so hard to gulp and swallow it quickly. He pulls you off from his cock, some of his seeds trail from your lips as you lick it off.

"You're such a bad girl. I was driving and you blow-jobbing me, huh?" Baekhyun cups my cheeks with his hand, holding them with a force as he stares into your eyes seriously.

Innocently, you nod your head.

"Are you already wet?" He asks.

"You need to find it out then," You arrogantly reply as you smirk. Spreading your legs wider, you invite his fingers to feel the wetness that already drench your panties after listening to his moans from previous sessions. Practically, your wetness is pooling at your core, dripping wet but still waiting for him to settle it.

Baekhyun chuckles huskily, bringing his fingers to cup your drench panties before he pulls it off, leaving your bare pussy revealed to the exposed air. You breathe heavily, with the thoughts are currently playing in your mind which are Baekhyun finger fucking your hole.

Baekhyun strokes his two fingers along your folds, caressing on it while his thumb abuses your swollen and sensitive nub. Your toes start to curl and you grunt softly. "What do you want me to do with you?"

"Fuck me with your fingers, please" You finally beg. Suddenly, he hardly pushes his 3 digits into your tight cunt, passing through the walls without any warning..

You start to squirm badly when he begins to thrust your pussy with his fingers as he continues to play with your swollen clit. Your eyes are shut, biting your lower lip to bear with the pleasure that he gives when he keeps poking your sensitive spot over and over with his fingers.

You grip tightly around the seatbelt but it's unable to make you stop squirming badly, feeling aroused having him sliding his digits in and out easily because of your wet juices as the lubrication.

"B-Baekhy- Faster-'' you command. In any minute, his eyes dilated, increased his thrusting and hit your spot non-stop. You pull his nape into a deep kiss, swallowing the moans as he slips his tongue to stroke the roof of your mouth.

You double over the gasp when he brings his mouth to your clit, sucking and licking it badly while his fingers continue to pump in and out of your pussy. He quickens his movements and fucks you faster with his digits. You can finally feel the build-up in your stomach as he rolls the bud between his lips. The string of arousal finally snaps. You let out a loud mewl. You grip your fingers hard around the seatbelt, squeezing your legs together with Baekhyun lodges his face between your thighs.

"Oh my god.." You pant hard, feeling the last wave of pleasure rushes in you.

You cum having his mouth abusing your pussy. Baekhyun gives a few licks of your juices, swallowing them. Your legs feel so weak as your heart is beating too fast.

"Come here," Baekhyun invites. He unbuckles your seatbelt and lifts you up from the passenger seat, placing you to sit on his lap. "Thank you for being such a bad girl for me, babe," Baekhyun mumbles into your ear, dragging the tip of his hard cock along your slit. "Let me reward you." He breathes.

A sexy moan leaves your mouth when you lift yourself to push his tip between your folds and into your wet pussy. Baekhyun sheaths himself even more until his cock completely buried inside of you. Your walls squeezing tightly around his thick rod. He groans, his hand placed on your hips while your hands wrap around his neck.

"You're so..." he sounds breathless, "tight.."

You start to ride his cock relentlessly while Baekhyun works out with his hips upwards to meet with your thrust synchronously. Your inner muscles clench around him involuntarily. He grunts into your ear.

Your legs start to tremble to the fact that the pleasure weakens your energy. Baekhyun keeps on ramming your tight pussy with his thick girth while your pussy is trying to engulf his rod fully in me. The sexes slide smoothly just because the two of you guys’ pre-juices lubricate it well. "B-Baekhyun-"

Baekhyun slaps your bare ass, causing you to let out a surprised squeal as your pussy suddenly tightens around his throbbing cock, causing him to groan loudly. His breathing is loud and shallow in your ears.

Your mouth parts as you receive the same arousal that he keeps on giving. You roll your eyes back, slamming your head together each and every thrust. He cannot stop calling your name, abusing your g-spot with his swollen tip over and over. The overstimulation that you’re currently having, causing you to slow down from thrusting.

But, he aids you, pinning your back to the steering wheel as he uses his force to pound into your tight snatch. Tears start to stream down your cheeks as you feel like about to burst.

You bump your back on the steering wheel, accidentally hitting the honk. There are also a few times your head bumps towards the roof of the car, causing the both of you to chuckle for a second. Baekhyun pulls me away from the honk, afraid we will catch the neighbourhood's attention while we're busy fucking in his black car. "I'm cumming, Baekhyun..."

You couldn't hold it anymore. Baekhyun continues to hit that specific spot with a few more thrusts, you explode around his cock, your walls convulsing. He also released his hot and warm semen into your womb as both of us panting hard, trying to catch our breath. Baekhyun pecks your lips, wiping your sweaty forehead with his hand. "Thank you, baby." He plants a kiss on your crown.

You slowly pull yourself to sit back on the passenger seat, gasping softly the moment his throbbing cock sliding out from your cunt, feeling empty inside. You grin widely at him when the mixed cums start to drip from your hole. You pull out some tissues to wipe off the cums around your pussy, worried that it will stain his leather seat. Baekhyun also takes some tissues to wipe his drench throbbing cock before he slides his member into his pants back.

"Sorry if you accidentally stained your seat, baek.." You mutter softly as you apologise, making him chuckles.

"It’s okay, baby. This is also your car anyway and only you can sit here," He points it out to the seat that you’re sitting, "And the place where we'll be making out other than our bed." He smirks seducingly, causing me to slap his chest softly.

"Let's go home, hmm?" You buckle your seatbelt securely before looking at him. His engine roars the moment he starts the car, buckling himself as he slides his hand to intertwine again with your fingers.

"To our home, we go."

#exowritersnet #exo fanfiction #baekhyun #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun smut #smut fanfiction #exo scenarios #baekhyun scenarios #baekhyun oneshot

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alice-beaumont-ravenclaw · 3 years

Text

História

A/N #1: Finally! Fic number 3 of the Brazil series! I apologize for the wait. Let’s just say that stuff happened after I posted the second fic of the series that kinda zapped my creativity. Anyway, now I am back!

Hottest Spot South of Havana (Part 1, Part 2) | A Wonderful Surprise

Word count: ≈3000

Alice’s outfit

Alice could perceive the sunlight through her closed eyelids, but she didn’t want to open them just yet. Wanting to enjoy the warmth of the bed some more, she turned around, thinking her pillow felt firmer than she remembered. Her nose detected a familiar smell that reminded her of the sweater she slept in during cold winter nights at Hogwarts. Her boyfriend’s sweater. Charlie’s smell…

Charlie!

Her eyes opened up at that realization, landing on a sleeping freckled face with messy longish red hairs framing it. What was she doing in the same bed as Charlie? Where was Penny? In fact, where exactly was she? She did not recognize the room she was in as she quickly glanced around. As her mind was going at lightning speed, trying to remember how she ended up here, she looked under the covers. Thank Merlin, they still had their pyjamas on. Lost in those thoughts, she felt the pillow underneath her head shift slightly. She soon realized the “pillow” was actually Charlie’s shoulder, and as she slowly looked up towards his face, her green eyes met his warm brown eyes.

“Good morning,” said Charlie.

Alice stared at him, silent, her eyes wide.

“Why are you…?” started asking Charlie before being hit by a realization. He smirked. “You don’t remember how you ended up in my bed, do you?”

Alice shook her head, still staring at her boyfriend.

“Well, you missed my body so much, you just couldn’t help yourself…” started saying Charlie biting his lower lip to stifle a laugh he could feel coming as he saw Alice’s cheeks turn pink.

“What?!” exclaimed Alice, sitting up in the bed holding her face. “Oh, Merlin! They won’t stop teasing after…” She then heard Charlie’s laughter behind her. “Charlie Weasley!” she exclaimed, grabbing the pillow underneath his arm. “How dare you scare me like that?!” she added, throwing the pillow at Charlie’s face.

Charlie barely dodged the pillow as he sat up, still chuckling. “Sorry, it was just too easy, and you’re so cute when you blush,” he said, hugging her and giving her rosy cheek a small peck.

“Honestly, though, how did I end up here?”

“I was sleepy myself when you joined me, but if I remember, you were woken up by Tonks and Tulip getting ready for their hiking expedition, and I think you weren’t able to go back to sleep because of the racket they were making. So you came here,” explained Charlie.

“Oh… Yeah… I remember now. Tonks tripped over an ottoman in the living room; Tulip burst out laughing, followed by Tonks; Dennis escaped Tulip’s pocket, so they started looking all over the room for him while Penny and I just watched. I vaguely remember Penny suggesting I go over to your room since the boys were already waiting outside, so it would be peaceful,” said Alice, scratching her head.

“Feeling you cuddle up to me was a nice way to go back to sleep,” said Charlie, kissing the top of her head. “Are you sure you want to go to the museum today? I wouldn’t mind spending the day in bed with you,” his lips brushing against her neck.

“Charlie!” exclaimed Alice, scooting away from him. “Penny and Andre are probably out there waiting for us!”

“And it looks like Andre brought your outfit in here while we were sleeping,” said Charlie, noticing clothes neatly laid out on the armchair close to the window.

“All the more reason to not make them wait with… whatever you had in mind. They could come in at any moment.”

“Fine,” said Charlie as he started to remove his t-shirt.

Alice let out a small gasp as she backed away some more, only to find out she had reached the edge of the bed. She fell backward, the little thump it made alerting Charlie. He turned around and saw Alice’s ankles and feet above the bed.

“Alice, are you…?”

Before he could finish his sentence, Alice raised a thumbs up to indicate she was okay, making the both of them laugh. They quickly got dressed, Alice using magic to get her hair into a braid.

“I’m surprised Andre picked out the overall for the museum. When we were in Paris, he wanted to dress me in couture when we went to the Louvres,” said Alice as they left the bedroom.

“That’s because I know you and also because I thought we might walk around where the museum is after visiting it,” said Andre, who was sitting on the couch, sipping his cup of coffee.

“How… how long have you been sitting there?” asked Alice, frozen in place.

“Since I’ve been done with breakfast on the terrace with Penny,” said Andre, nodding towards the open doors leading to the terrace where Penny was still sitting, reading a book. “You know, I could get used to this lifestyle,” added Andre as he got up, placing his empty cup on the saucer on the marble top of the coffee table.

“We know,” said Alice and Charlie in unison.

“The two lovebirds have decided to join us?” asked Penny as she closed the doors of the terrace behind her.

“Seems like it,” said Andre as he held the door of the suite for Penny, Alice sticking her tongue at her Hufflepuff friend.

Alice and Charlie walked a few steps behind them as they made their way to the elevator.

“Good thing you didn’t give in to me earlier,” whispered Charlie.

Alice simply nodded, her eyes on their two friends waiting for them next to the lift.

After arriving at the Museu Histórico Nacional, they made their way to the inner courtyard, where carriages, probably used by the nobility back during the colonization and the Empire periods, were on display. Andre seemed to find them quite interesting as he stopped to look at them in detail, Penny staying with him as Alice and Charlie walked inside.

They slowly made their way around the permanent exhibits, which seemed to be divided into three periods: pre-colonization, colonization, and independence. The pre-colonization rooms mostly had native artifacts and prehistoric cave paintings. The rooms that pertained to the colonization period contained portraits of Iberian royals, including an equestrian depiction of Philip II of Spain, who ruled during part of the Iberian Union period between Spain & Portugal. There were also displays showing the extent of slavery in the colony as it was a big part of the economy back in those days.

“What’s slavery?” asked Charlie as they passed miniature models representing the slave trade.

Alice stopped in her tracks, turning around. “You don’t know? Actually, I shouldn’t be surprised. Grand-papa always said wizards live in a bubble. Well, in general, slaves are human beings that are owned by other human beings, and they are treated like property and traded as such. They have no rights. Slavery has existed for centuries, but back during the colonization period, Africans were taken by Europeans as slaves and were used in the colonies as cheap labour. That’s a very succinct summary of it.”

“How awful! Why would Muggles do that?”

“Greed? But it’s not like wizards are perfect. While a majority of house-elves love doing their work and find the idea of compensation insulting, the way some families treat them is… despicable,” said Alice, frowning, as she turned back and walked into the next room, Charlie following her.

They eventually reached the rooms that covered Brazil’s independence period, starting with a life-sized statue of Emperor Pedro I and the text of his acceptance letter to stay in Brazil in the early 1800s, marking the beginning of the country's independence period. There were also paintings representing naval military scenes, one of which seemed to have caught Charlie’s attention as he stood there, looking at it.

Alice, noticing he wasn’t close to her anymore, walked over to him to see what could be so fascinating about that painting. “Are there any dragons?” she said, a small smirk raising the corner of her mouth.

“What? No,” he said with a small chuckle. “No, it’s just most paintings we’ve seen so far represented daytime scenes, but this one is a nighttime scene. There’s something… enchanting about it, I guess, with only the moonlight illuminating the scene.”

“How poetic of you, Charlie Weasley,” said Alice, her lips forming a tender smile.

“I have my moments,” said Charlie, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“But you’re right. The moonlight does have something magical. This reminds me… You know the book I was reading yesterday at the lovely library you brought me to?”

“The Brazilian fairytales one? Yes, I remember. What about it?”

“Well, there was this story about how night came.”

“It comes when the sun goes down, no?”

“Well, yes, but it’s a story about how the phenomenon that is night came to be, because at the very beginning of time, the story said, it was day all the time. There was no night.”

“Really? And how does it explain the arrival of night?” asked Charlie as they sat on the bench near the nighttime scenery.

“Well, the daughter of the Great Sea Serpent, who dwelt in the depths of the seas, married a human,” started Alice. “She left her home among the shades of the deep seas and came to live with her husband on earth, in the land of daylight. Because she wasn’t used to that much daylight, her eyes grew weary of the bright sunlight and her beauty faded. That saddened her husband, as he did not know what to do.

“‘O, if night would only come,’ she moaned as she tossed about wearily on her couch. ‘Here it is always day, but in my father’s kingdom, there are many shadows. O, for a little of the darkness of night!’

“Her husband listened to her and asked, ‘What is night? Tell me about it, and perhaps I can get a little of it for you.’

“‘Night,’ said the daughter of the Great Sea Serpent, ‘is the name we give to the heavy shadows which darken my father’s kingdom in the sea. I love the sunlight of your earth land, but I grow very tired of it. If we could have only a little of the darkness of my father’s kingdom to rest our eyes part of the time.’

“Her husband quickly called his three most faithful slaves. ‘I am about to send you on a journey,’ he told them. ‘You are to go to the kingdom of the Great Sea Serpent who lives in the depths of the seas and ask him to give you some of the darkness of night so that his daughter may not die here amid the sunlight of our land.’

“The three slaves made their way to the kingdom of the Great Sea Serpent. After a long, perilous journey, they arrived at his home in the depths of the seas and asked him to give them some of the shadows of night to carry back to the earth. The Great Sea Serpent gave them a big bag full at once. It was securely fastened, and the Great Sea Serpent warned them not to open it until they were once more in the presence of his daughter, their mistress.”

“I have a feeling they didn’t listen,” interrupted Charlie.

“You would be correct. So, the three slaves started out, bearing the big bag full of night upon their heads, but they soon heard strange sounds within the bag. It was the sound of the voices of all the night beasts, all the night birds, and all the night insects. It sounded like the night chorus from the jungles on the banks of the rivers to give you an idea. But as night was something no one had ever experienced on land, the three slaves had never heard sounds like those in all their lives. They were terribly frightened.

“‘Let us drop the bag full of night right here where we are and run away as fast as we can,’ said the first slave.

“‘We shall perish. We shall perish, anyway, whatever we do,’ cried the second slave.

“‘Whether we perish or not, I am going to open the bag and see what makes all those terrible sounds,’ said the third slave.”

“Oh, Merlin…” interjected Charlie.

“So,” continued Alice, “they laid the bag on the ground and opened it. Out rushed all the night beasts and all the night birds and all the night insects and out rushed the great black cloud of night. The slaves were more frightened than ever at the darkness and escaped to the jungle.

“The daughter of the Great Sea Serpent was waiting anxiously for the return of the slaves with the bag full of night. Ever since they had started out on their journey, she had looked for their return, shading her eyes with her hand and gazing away off at the horizon, hoping with all her heart that they would arrive quickly to bring the night. In that position, she was standing under a royal palm tree when the three slaves opened the bag and let night escape. ‘Night comes. Night comes at last,’ she cried, as she saw the clouds of night upon the horizon. Then she closed her eyes and went to sleep there under the royal palm tree.

“When she awoke, she felt greatly refreshed. She was once more the happy princess who had left her father’s kingdom in the depths of the great seas to come to the land. She was now ready to see the day again. She looked up at the bright star shining above the royal palm tree and said, ‘O, bright, beautiful star, from now on you shall be called the morning star, and you shall herald the approach of day. You shall reign queen of the sky at this hour.’

“Then she called all the birds about her and said to them, ‘O, wonderful, sweet singing birds, henceforth I command you to sing your sweetest songs at this hour to herald the approach of day.’ The cock was standing by her side. ‘You,’ she said to him, ‘shall be appointed the watchman of the night. Your voice shall mark the watches of the night and shall warn the others that the madrugada comes.’ To this very day in Brazil, we call the early morning the madrugada. The cock announces its approach to the waiting birds. The birds sing their sweetest songs at that hour, and the morning star reigns in the sky as queen of the madrugada.

“Once it was daytime again, the slaves came out of their hiding place. Their master turned them into monkeys for having disobeyed the Great Sea Serpent by not opening the bag only in the presence of his daughter. To this very day, one sees the mark upon the monkeys’ lips, where they bit off the wax which sealed the bag; and in Brazil, night leaps out quickly upon the earth just as it leapt quickly out of the bag in those days at the beginning of time. And all the night beasts and night birds and night insects give a sunset chorus in the jungles at nightfall.”

“Wait… Did a Muggle really write that? There are a lot of elements in there that seem magical,” pointed out Charlie, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, most Muggle fairytales have magical elements. It’s like they know about us and our world without really knowing… Like when you heard The Sorcerer’s Apprentice at the Proms. You said how the music really fit the feeling of magic, even though a Muggle composed it. Perhaps people can feel it without realizing it, and some things we see in their tales come from the days when Muggles knew more about us, but now that knowledge is viewed as pure fantasy instead of truth,” said Alice, her eyes brightening.

“Maybe… Wait, aren’t sea serpents a type of dragon?” asked Charlie, smiling broadly.

“Hmm? Oh, hum, yes, I think so, but you’re the expert on the matter,” said Alice, her eyes on the painting, but her thoughts on something else.

“So based on that story, we have nights because of a dragon?”

Alice stared at him, quirking her eyebrows. “I guess so…”

“Cool,” said Charlie, nodding his head in satisfaction.

Alice shook her head slightly, biting her lower lip to avoid laughing. Of course, the dragon would be the one thing to stick with Charlie. Lost in their respective thoughts, neither of them noticed Penny and Andre making their way to them.

“There you are!” exclaimed Penny, standing in front of them, her hands on her hips.

“I am starving,” said Andre, holding his stomach.

“Sorry, we didn’t see the time,” said Alice, as she got up with Charlie.

Penny rolled her eyes, smirking. “You two don’t seem to notice the time go by when you’re together.”

“Shut up,” mumbled Alice, taking a hold of Penny’s arm.

“Did you know that there’s a story that says a dragon is the reason we have nights,” said Charlie as he walked in front of them with Andre.

“Ok, maybe in Charlie’s case, it’s when dragons are involved that he forgets about the concept of time,” whispered Penny, making Alice snort with laughter.

After eating lunch at the museum’s café, they looked at the other exhibits before returning to the hotel. The rest of the afternoon was spent around the pool as they waited for their friends, Charlie wanting to tell Barnaby about the dragon story. Alice stared at the same page of her book all that time, her mind still on fairytales and their origin...

A/N #2: Thank you for reading my fic! I hope you enjoyed it! Now, before someone comments one what Alice says regarding house-elves, I based it on this article. The fairytale Alice tells is from HERE and the painting that catches Charlie’s attention is THIS ONE. The reason the title is “História” is because in Portuguese, it means both “history” and “story,” which I felt worked with the story. Feel free to leave a comment, including constructive criticism.

#hphm fanfic #brazil series #hogwarts mystery fanfic #brazilian fics #jacob’s sibling #hphm mc #hogwarts mystery mc #alice beaumont #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x alice beaumont #Charlie x Alice #penny haywood #andre egwu #rio de janeiro

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years

Text

Bare Bones {Theory 1} ⋇ Pope Heyward ⋇

description: Pippa Cantu has always been a little…strange. With a knack for knowing everything there is to know about every conspiracy, every mystery, and every weird happening, she doesn’t have much time (or desire) for friends. But when her chemistry lab partner asks her to join him and his friends on a hunt for the Royal Merchant, she just can’t say no.

Theory 1 summary: Pippa meets Pope and gets a little closer than she would have liked.

word count - 3.9k

warnings: swearing

a/n: thank you for being here! I am already in love with Pippa and I would die for her, so I hope that you all enjoy this story!! Much love.

***

Pippa flinched when the school bell rang. Keeping her head down, she ducked into her first class and found the seat farthest in the back. She had always hated the public school system in Maine, and even from her first period on her first day of school, she knew she was going to hate Kildare High just as much.

Who in their right mind makes someone take Chemistry Lab at 8 o’clock in the fucking morning?

Students started to fill in the seats around her, some glancing at her out of the corner of their eyes and others greeting each other with giggles and hugs and smiles. Pippa scoffed and lowered her head to her arms. All she wanted to do was get through this day and then the next day and then the next. That’s how time passed for her as of late. Nothing else mattered except getting through to the night.

Someone slid into the chair across from her, but Pippa didn’t take notice of them. She didn’t care. She wasn’t here to make friends. In fact, she was here to do the exact opposite.

“Hi,” the person said. Pippa still refused to look up. “I’m Pope.”

Pippa forced a split-second smile, glancing at him.

The final bell rang and the boy in front of her, who kept his smile despite her coldness, turned toward the teacher. Pippa scoffed again and leaned forward to rest her chin against her arms. The boy, Pope, was glued to the teacher as she spoke in a cheery, overly excited voice. Pippa couldn’t care less what she had to say. Until the dreaded words came out of her mouth. She said those two words that Pippa feared the most when she found out she was taking Chem Lab on Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 8 AM.

Lab partners.

“Shit,” Pippa groaned, sitting up but letting her head hang. Pope seemed eager to hear who his partner would be.

The teacher started rattling off names, none of which Pippa recognized. Of course she wouldn’t. She had spent this entire summer hiding away in her grandma’s second-hand store, avoiding repeated human interaction at all costs. Some people were vocally happy about their assigned lab partners, others were less so. Pippa waited for her name anxiously, dreading the idea of spending an entire year with one single person as her partner.

“Phillipa Cantu and Pope Heyward at table- Ah, the two of you are already back there.” The teacher, Mrs. Stedfield smiled sweetly but Pippa just closed her eyes and sent a quiet prayer for her nerves.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” she whispered under her breath as Pope turned to face her with a wide grin.

“Phillipa, huh?” He said, leaning against his elbow and raising an eyebrow. Pippa could see this as an attempt to flirt, a poor one. Whoever told him that this was a good idea was a dumbass.

“Pippa,” she said shortly. “No one calls me Phillipa.”

“Well, Pippa,” he said her name with a partial grin. “I’m very excited to be your lab partner.”

She hid a groan behind an attempted smile and clenched teeth.

This was going to be a long year.

***

Pippa didn’t have much to say about Pope, but there was one thing for certain, he was determined.

It didn’t take him long to figure out that Pippa wasn’t to keen on small talk, so he always talked about what they were studying in class. She liked him a lot more when he was talking about science because it was something he actually seemed passionate about. But every time she caught herself smiling or even almost laughing at one of his stupid jokes, Pippa would remind herself why she was here.

Don’t get attached. It’s not worth it. It’s never worth it.

But he was getting too close. He kept asking questions, kept pushing her harder to break through the walls she had made for herself. And Pippa couldn’t have that.

“So, what do you do when you’re not working or at school?” Pope asked from behind a titration tube. Pippa glanced up at him, but he was focused on what he was doing. He wasn’t really listening.

“I heard that the government replaced all of the birds with drones,” Pippa said, testing the waters. She glanced up at Pope but he didn’t say anything, didn’t even look away from what he was currently doing. “One of the origin stories of werewolves was just a really hairy man who stole and ate children in Europe.”

“Hmm. Really?”

Pippa could tell Pope wasn’t listening to what she was saying, just responding absently. With a smile, she continued.

“Up until the 1800s, people in Germany thought drinking fresh blood from executed criminals could cure epilepsy.”

Still no response. Pippa’s smile grew wider.

From that moment on, every time Pope asked her a question, she would respond with one of her many random facts or theories. He never listened. Pippa started using it on others too. As soon as she got into a conversation, she somehow turned it into one of her crazy stories. It usually made everyone keep their distance. No one really wanted to talk to the crazy conspiracy theory girl who seemed way too interested in HH Holmes and the death of Princess Diana.

“I like your outfit,” Pope said one day. Pippa glanced down at what she was wearing; an oversized hoody and a loose pair of pants. Nothing extraordinary, but he hadn’t even looked hard enough to really see what she was wearing.

“Thanks,” she said, setting her bag down on the ground. “Back to Jack the Ripper, I’m pretty sure Mary Kelly’s boyfriend manipulated James Maybrick, you know, the rich guy with the drug problem?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah, so Joseph manipulated Maybrick into thinking he was the Ripper so if the cops came knocking on Joseph’s door, he could pin it on Maybrick. Maybrick got it all muddled up in his druggie head and started to believe he was Ripper, so he wrote the diary. It all fits.”

“Sure. Did you do the homework last night?”

“Oh, yeah.” Pippa pulled out her notebook and handed it to Pope.

“Thanks. My friend tore out a page and used it for a blunt.”

“Some friend,” Pippa grumbled.

“He’s great.” Pope’s voice was tight. “I’m sure you’d like him.”

Pippa rolled her eyes. She had two guesses which friend he was talking about; John Routledge, who everyone insisted calling John B but that was the most annoying shit Pippa had ever heard, or JJ Maybank, who was most likely the homework stealing thief. Both had hit on her once before in a time of desperation, but one mention of Area 51 or the Bermuda Triangle and they were gone.

It was too easy. A girl opens her mouth and starts talking about the things she’s passionate about and most guys scatter. If Pope had the opportunity, she imagined he would leave to.

For the briefest of a moment, the idea pained her.

“Something tells me I really wouldn’t like your friend.”

It was March and the air was starting to get hot. Pippa hated the heat, not because it was uncomfortable, but because it meant taking off her protective layer. It was rare to see Pippa without her sweatshirt, and for good reason. She didn’t feel safe without it.

The Bunsen burners didn’t help. Of course they were using them today, the hottest day of the year so far. Pippa could feel the sweat beading down the back of her neck as she stammered her way through a theory about aliens and the Giant Heads of Easter Island and their bodies.

“Hey, you good?” Pope asked, stopping half-way through writing something down. Pippa struggled to nod. “Why don’t you just take off your sweater?”

Pippa tightened her jaw. How could she tell a boy that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath? But just from the shift her eyes, Pope seemed to understand. He turned off the Bunsen burner and pulled off his goggles.

“I have an extra shirt,” Pope said, reaching for his backpack.

“It’s fine,” Pippa said through her teeth.

“Pippa, come on.” He pulled the t-shirt out of his backpack and shoved it into her hands before she could protest. “Can’t have my partner fainting on me, now can I?”

The half-smile on his face was sincere. Pippa narrowed her eyes but left to go to the bathroom anyway. There was an ounce of relief as she pulled her sweatshirt off of her body. It felt like she could finally breathe. She pulled Pope’s t-shirt on over her head and her stomach twisted into knots. She hated seeing her arms. Something about it felt so unsafe.

But Pope’s shirt was big on her and it was at least baggy in the way she liked, so she thought she was just going to have to put with it.

There was a blush on her cheeks when she walked into the Chemistry lab. Pope had his goggles on when she returned, having gone right back to the lab they were doing. He didn’t look up at her as she came back and she was grateful for it.

“Here, can you write this down for me?” He asked, hovering a stick over the fire. The fire burned green.

“Sweet,” Pippa said with a smile. She scribbled down what she could, not noticing as Pope looked away from the fire to admire how she looked in his shirt. As soon as she looked back up, he turned his face away. “You wanna hear about how Amelia Airheart sent an SOS message after she went missing but it was ignored because they didn’t think she could survive?”

“Sure.”

***

Pippa was sitting in the library, bobbing her head to the music that blasted through her earbuds. Her computer sat in front of her, a thousand and one tabs open at once. Two notebooks and a few more research books lay out around her. A color-coded selection of pens and highlighters was scattered about. The table where she worked was an absolute mess, but it made sense to her.

She was so consumed by an article and her music that she didn’t see Pope sit down in front of her. Her foot tapped against the leg of her chair while she chewed on a pen cap, eyes scanning the page. It wasn’t until she tore her gaze from the screen to scribble something in one of her notebooks that she saw Pope sitting there.

The pen cap fell out of her mouth with a gasp and a jolt of her body. Pippa flicked an earbud out of her ear.

“Shit, Pope!” she hissed before taking a calming breath. He seemed unphased by her shock, a book of his own resting in his lap.

“What are you listening to?” He asked, turning the page in his book. Pippa felt a lump form in her throat.

“Nothing.”

“I can hear it from here. What is it?”

“What do you care?”

Pope smiled at her and gave a quiet laugh.

“It’s just music, Pippa. Not like I’m asking for your life story or anything.” Pippa rolled her eyes before sliding her phone across the table for him to see. “Hmm.”

Pippa snatched her phone back, her cheeks brushed red and her eyebrows pinched together.

“Hmm, what?”

“Never pegged you for the One Direction type.”

“It’s called versatility, Heyward. Look it up.” Pippa huffed and leaned back in her chair. “Is there a reason you’re gracing me with your presence today?”

“We gotta work on that final project at some point. Came over to talk to you about it, but I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Pippa shook off her hostility and gave a shrug of her shoulders. She capped her pen and lowered the screen of her computer.

“Nothing important.”

“Aliens?”

“1500s shipwreck full of gold.”

“Ah.” Pope let the moment wear on for a few silent seconds before he leaned his arms against the table. Pippa crossed her arms. “This is a pretty big project, so I think we should start soon.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe we should swap numbers so we can link up.”

“Link up?” Pippa raised an eyebrow. All the coolness fell from around Pope instantly and his eyes widened.

“I just mean...well, for the sake of the project...shit, no, I just mean….we have to get together at some point-”

“Relax, Pope.” Pippa let out a quiet laugh and scribbled her number onto the corner of a notebook and tore it out, sliding it across the table to Pope. “For emergencies only. Everything else we do face to face, capiche?”

“What, are you on witness protection or something?” Pope joked as his eyes scanned the string of numbers on the paper. Her handwriting was shit. God, he hoped he could read it well enough to text the right person.

The look on Pippa’s face didn’t affirm or deny his question. At this rate, Pope wouldn’t be surprised if she was.

“Can we meet after school today?” he asked. “I’ve got to help my dad with some stuff tomorrow and Friday.”

“Sure,” Pippa said, before leaning back and stretching her arms above her head. Diving headfirst into her theories left her back aching, even if it was only for a free period like today.

She stretched her arms high up enough to reveal a small sliver of her stomach, but something caught Pope’s eyes.

“Woah, is that a tattoo?” He asked, a grin growing on his face. Pippa dropped her arms and her eyes widened.

Shit.

There was no lying her way out of this one. She was just going to have to run with it. Forcing a smile, Pippa lifted the edge of her sweatshirt and showed him the whole thing. The roman numeral ten was etched in black ink into her skin just under her belly button and a little bit to the left. It seemed like odd placement to Pope.

“What’s it mean?” he asked.

“X marks the spot,” she said with a half-grin. “Had to get something to represent my obsession, ya know.”

Pope nodded his head slowly, but a voice in his head told him there was something deeper than that.

“My best friend Kie, she’s got like three of them,” he said. Pippa lowered her shirt. “A dolphin, a wave, and something else, I don’t remember.”

Pippa felt her smile turn into something real. She watched the way Pope’s face lit up when he talked about her, Kie. It wasn’t the first time. On the rare occasion that he actually tried to hold a conversation with Pippa, he would often talk about this girl. Pippa didn’t know a whole bunch about her, but whoever she was, she made Pope very happy.

But that smile on Pippa’s face was starting to feel too comfortable. Talking to Pope as a whole was starting to feel too comfortable.

Pippa let her smile fall and she started to shut her books.

“I have History,” she said, slamming her laptop all the way shut. “Can’t be late.”

She had the books and notebooks packed up in a blink of an eye and before Pope could even say goodbye, she was gone.

***

“A crystal pyramid in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle, can you believe it?” Pippa shook her head slowly. She let herself laugh, looking down at her bowl of cereal. “Anyway, what do you want-”

“Are you going to the school dance?” Pope asked suddenly, turning away from their project and toward Pippa. She sat cross-legged on his counter, a bowl of cereal in her hand. The spoon was halfway to her mouth when she froze, her lips parting ever so slightly.

“Oh, um, no.” She set the spoon back in the bowl. She struggled to meet Pope’s eyes. She could feel the question burning inside of him but she refused to let him ask it. “I’ve got...shit to do that day.”

“What kind of shit?” he asked, looking back at the project. “Conspiracy shit? Alien shit? Cult shit? Or wait, let me guess, murder shit?”

Pippa let out a strained laugh.

“Unfortunately, no. Just...personal shit.”

Pope hummed quietly to himself. Pippa cringed. He was disappointed, upset, hurt. Something somewhere in between.

“So, the project.”

“Right.” Pippa slid off the counter, setting her bowl down and stepping closer to Pope, but not too close.

The front door swung open suddenly. Pope spun around and Pippa dropped to the ground, feeling her heart tighten in her chest painfully, her lungs dropping into her stomach.

“Mom!” Pope smiled as Mrs. Heyward walked in through the door.

“Hey, Sweetie. Where’s that friend of yours?”

Pippa was still on the ground, her eyes squeezed shut. Her heart pounded in her ears and her fingers curled against the tile beneath her. She just had to stand up and smile, that was all. It was just Pope’s mom. She was safe.

Letting out a struggling breath, Pippa pushed herself up onto her feet.

“Slipped,” she said simply, attempting to smile at Mrs. Heyward.

“Happens to everyone.” Mrs. Heyward handed a bag of groceries off to her son and approached Pippa, her arms open for a hug.

“Mom,” Pope said. “She’s not into hugs.”

Mrs. Heyward stopped in her tracks, but her smile never once faltered.

“That’s okay. It’s not for everyone. I’m Pope’s mom. We’re glad to have you here.” Pippa could feel her breath growing short, the squeezing her chest never once letting up as she tightened her hands into fists. Adrenaline ran through her. She tried to cover it up with a smile. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Pippa gave a quick shake of her head.

“No, I should be getting home.” She tried not to run for the door. “Text me, Pope.”

Plucking her purse off the ground and shoving her feet into her shoes, Pippa barely heard Pope or Mrs. Heyward give their goodbyes as she raced outside.

“That was strange,” Mrs. Heyward said, setting her things on the counter.

“Yeah.” Pope let out a deep sigh. “She’s strange person.”

“Pope Heyward.” Mrs. Heyward gave Pope’s shoulder a light pinch. “Don’t ever say that about a girl.”

“I don’t think she would take it as an insult.” Pope’s gaze shifted toward the door, his eyes lingering.

Had she known that he wanted to ask her to the dance? Was that why she ran away so fast? Or was it something else? Something about her that he didn’t yet know that made her scurry away?

Pope wondered if she would ever let him find out.

***

“Well, look at that, Heyward.” Pippa grinned as she slapped their final report onto their lab table. “That’s an A for us.”

Pope took the paper and admired the big, red letter. A smile broke out across his face.

“God, you’re such a nerd,” Pippa laughed, sitting on her stool and giving herself a small push so the chair swiveled around in a circle.

“I’m the nerd?” Pope asked, mock offended as he put the paper back onto the table.

“You’re on the Mathletics team,” Pippa said. “I’m pretty sure you qualify as a nerd.”

Pope felt a small laugh shake through him. He watched Pippa look up at the clock and sigh.

“Last class together,” Pope said. His lips twitched as he rested his arms against the table. Whatever feeling was in Pippa’s eyes faded and she let out a scoff.

“You sound like we’re dying once that clock strikes 9:30. It’s just summer,” she said.

“But we don’t know if we’ll have classes together next year or not,” he said. Pippa sighed again, but it was smaller. She tried to hide it as she brushed her hand against her nose.

“That’s the way the dice fall sometimes.”

“We could hang during the summer though, right?” He didn’t care if he sounded desperate.

“Maybe.” But her answer was clear by the way her gaze fell to the floor. She wasn’t interested in hanging out over the summertime. Pope just wished she would tell him why.

The bell overhead rang. Pippa took her time pulling her backpack onto her shoulders. Pope stayed where he was. She offered something to him.

“Forgot to give this back,” she said, refusing to look at him. In her hands was his t-shirt, the one he had given her all the way back in March. “That’s my bad.”

Pope looked at the shirt and pulled it from her hands.

“Don’t take it personal,” she said and let out a heavy breath. “It’s better this way. Yeah, it’s better.”

With that, Pippa fell into the stream of kids leaving the classroom, disappearing almost instantly.

***

Pope fiddled with the phone in his hand. His thumb hovered over the call button on her contact. He hadn’t seen her since that last day of school, actively avoiding the secondhand shop where she worked with her grandmother.

“What are you waiting for?” JJ groaned. “Just call her, dude!”

Pope glowered at his friend and pressed the button while his irritation was still strong enough to overcome his fear.

The line rang once, twice, three times. The fear returned. She wasn’t going to pick up. She would see his contact on her phone and ignore him. He was sure of it.

“Hey, Pope, waddup?” Pope smiled at the sound of her voice. She sounded so normal, as if they had just spoken yesterday and not an entire month ago.

“Hi, Pippa, how are you?”

“Pretty good. How are you?”

“I’m doing good.”

“Cut the shit,” JJ hissed, throwing a pebble at Pope’s head. Pope swatted his arm in JJ’s direction, sneering.

“I have a question for you.”

“Clearly.” He could hear her hesitant laugh from the other side.

“You’re not asking her on a date, man!” John B was impatiently waiting from the side, his hands on his hips. Kie took a step toward him and Pope met her gaze. There was encouragement beneath her eyes, and she gave him a small nod.

“Pippa, what do you know about the Royal Merchant?”

He could hear her breath hitch in her throat as she fell silent.

“I know a shit ton about the Royal Merchant. Why?”

There was excitement in her voice, her thirst for adventure radiating through the phone.

“My friends and I need your help. Can you meet us at the Wreck?”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He could hear her shuffling around her room.

“See you there. Bye-”

The line went dead. Pope breathed out through his nose, pulling the phone away from his ear.

“So?” Kie asked, taking another step closer.

“She’s meeting us at the Wreck in ten,” Pope said, turning to his friends. John B clapped his hands together and started toward the van.

“To the Wreck then,” Kie said. She put a hand on Pope’s shoulder and smiled. His stomach flipped. “Good job.”

“I don’t see why we need this chick anyway,” JJ huffed as they headed toward the van.

“I doubt she’ll even want a cut of the gold at all,” Pope told his friend.

“Bullshit. No way she’d do this for free.”

“I’m serious.”

“You have the weirdest friends, Pope,” JJ said with a roll of his eyes.

“You’re my friend, dumbass.”

“His point stands,” John B interrupted, a never faltering smile on his face. “Let’s go get that gold.”

~~~

tagging - @simonsbluee, @parkerpetertingle, @diverrdown, @ponyboys-sunsets, @outerbanksbro, @kikifromtheblock, @sunflowerbecca

if you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know! ❤

#pope heyward #pope obx #pope outer banks #pope fic #pope imagine #outer banks #obx #jj maybank #jj obx #kie carrera #kie obx #john b routledge #john b obx

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likecastle · 4 years

Text

Witcher Noir AU, pt 2

More Witcher noir AU, following on from the first part. This is the song Jaskier is singing in this scene, in case anyone is wondering.

If you have prompts or suggestions for scenes you’d like to see incorporated here, please send them my way! I got a couple of excellent suggestions from a friend that I’m excited to incorporate in future installments.

CW for mentions of canonical character death.

Geralt stands on the sidewalk where Calanthe met her end. There’s no trace left of what happened here only a few days ago. The city has a short memory—its concrete washed clean by rain, the newsboy on the corner already hawking some new tragedy.

He peers up at the building, trying to think past his hangover and the pain in his ribs. Above street level, it’s a luxury hotel, one of the finest in town, with all the grandeur of a royal residence—which is fitting, considering it’s called the Palace. Geralt doubts he would find Calanthe’s name on any of the paperwork for the hotel, if he bothered to look, but it’s common knowledge that she was the money behind the business, and behind the nightclub that occupies the hotel’s basement levels, the Last Rose.

Squinting against the sun, he tries to guess which window Calanthe might’ve fallen from. The twelfth floor is the top floor, save for the garden bar on the roof. But just like the sidewalk, the building’s façade offers no clue about Calanthe’s last moments.

The newsboy on the corner is shouting about some new corruption scandal—as if anyone cares about bribery and graft anymore. Geralt turns to watch as he regales some passersby with the shocking details of the front-page story.

“Hey, kid,” he calls.

The kid has rich brown skin and a cap pulled down so low on his head it covers the tops of his ears. “Paper, mister?”

“You work around here a lot?”

The kid shrugs.

“Just wondering if you know anything about the woman who fell from the hotel window the other day. Maybe you saw her?”

The kid narrows his eyes, then says cautiously, “Maybe.”

Geralt considers the newsboy. He’s a little older than Geralt first thought, maybe fourteen or fifteen, and thin, with nervy bearing, like he’s ready to bolt at any moment. “I’ll buy all the copies you’ve got left of today’s edition if you can tell me anything about her I couldn’t read in the papers.”

The kid glances over Geralt’s shoulder at the hotel, then down the street in both directions. Geralt wonders who he’s looking out for. “She had a lot of meetings in the hotel, always showing up with a bunch of important-looking men in expensive suits. She’d stay the night with some guy, sometimes.”

“This guy,” Geralt says, “what’d he look like?”

“Tall, kinda stocky, black hair,” the boy recalls. “About the same age as her. I’d see them leaving together in the mornings. I figured, you know, she was stepping out, but her chauffeur would be waiting, and they always left together.”

Geralt nods. Calanthe was married, as he recalls. He’ll have to track down her husband, see what he makes of his wife’s death. Maybe this was a simple case of marital discord, and Yennefer’s theory about an underworld power struggle will come to nothing. “You know which room she fell out of?”

The kid shakes his head. “I’m not here nights. But she landed right over there.” He gestures to a spot at the far end of the block, almost at the edge of the sidewalk. To land there, she must’ve fallen from the corner room. “There was still blood the next morning. They tried to wash it off, but you could still tell. It upset s—some guests, I guess.” He shifts his feet like he’s anxious to get away. “Anyway, they sent somebody out later to scrub it again.”

“Thanks, kid.” Geralt offers him a five, enough to buy the papers in his arms several times over. “That cover it?”

The newsboy tucks the bill away in his vest pocket. “You actually want all these?”

“Keep ‘em,” he says, and heads in the direction of the steep steps that lead to the underground entrance of the Last Rose. When he glances over his shoulder, he notices the newsboy has chucked the rest of his papers into a trash can, and is ducking inside an automat across the street—not that Geralt can blame him for cutting out of work early, after a tip like that.

The dim, cavernous interior of the basement club is a relief after the bright sunlight outside. The guy watching the door tries to stop him, but when Geralt explains he’s a friend of Yennefer’s, the bouncer lets him pass. Yennefer’s name opens a surprising number of doors in this town, and Geralt isn’t above leaning on their connection if it makes his work a little easier. He doesn’t let himself linger on the thought that “friends” was never a word to describe what he and Yennefer are to one another.

He’s been inside the Last Rose a few times, but only on business, since its fine dining and elaborate floorshows are beyond his price range for ordinary entertaining. Its lavish interior looks strange empty of patrons. On the stage, a cluster of women in casual rehearsal clothes are standing around, being lectured by a lean man in soft slacks and a fitted turtleneck.

“Ladies,” the man is saying, “you know that I love each and every one of you dearly, but if you don’t get the timing of this entrance right, we might as well not do it at all. If we can’t wow them right from the start, we’ve already lost them. Now, let’s try it again, shall we?”

Geralt leans against a gilded column and watches as the women retreat offstage. The man steps to the center of the stage, wrapping one hand around the microphone stand, and the change in his posture as he takes up this position leaves no doubt in Geralt’s mind that this is the man he’s looking for. A moment ago, he might’ve been any young performer, but now, he’s every inch the irresistible emcee of the hottest nightclub in town.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he says in a voice like silk, “welcome to the Last Rose. I’m your host for evening, Jaskier, and I can already tell we’ve got a beautiful crowd here tonight. In fact, I’ve got a feeling I’m already falling for all of you . . .”

With a flirtatious smirk, he counts off the rhythm, and when he starts to sing, he’s singing directly to Geralt, and the twinge Geralt feels in his chest is definitely because of his bruised ribs and nothing else. “I’m flying high, but I’ve got a feeling I’m falling,” Jaskier croons, and the heat of that sultry gaze is so entrancing Geralt doesn’t even notice when the dancers appear, until Jaskier cuts off abruptly.

“Not bad, ladies,” he says brightly, though Geralt can still feel the other man’s attention on him. “I think we’ve just about got it. Why don’t you take ten and then we’ll go through it one last time?”

With a collective sigh, the dancers disperse. Jaskier, meanwhile, heads straight for Geralt, jogging gracefully down the stage stairs and crossing the dancefloor to where Geralt is leaning.

“Normally, I prefer people pay the cover charge before I show them I’ve got,” Jaskier says, “but in your case I think I might make an exception.”

Geralt’s been flirted with plenty of times—by other men, even—but something about Jaskier’s smoldering attention still manages to wrong-foot him. Flustered, Geralt clears his throat.

“Are you looking for someone?” Jaskier asks blithely, as if he can possibly be ignorant of the effect he’s having on Geralt. “If you’re dating one of the dancers, I definitely haven’t slept with her, no matter what you’ve heard.”

“I’m looking for you, actually,” Geralt manages. “I was hoping to ask you a few questions.”

“Oh, well, in that case,” he says, giving Geralt a wicked little grin, “why don’t we go somewhere a little more private so we can . . . talk?”

Jaskier leads the way toward the back of house, and Geralt, wondering what he’s gotten himself into, falls into step behind him.

Part three

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier #geralion #geralt x jaskier #gerlion #darra #yennefer of vengerberg #some background yennalt here #witcher au #noir au #noir #witcher noir au #i've got 99 problems and aus are all of them #please send me prompts #make me write this thing

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meteor752 · 4 years

Text

Tilda of Mirkwood

This is the one I’ve been waiting for.

Out of the Bardlings, Tilda is easily my favorite and the one I think about the most, which is why she has a bit more info than the other two. Let’s just get into it.

Tilda was born on the hottest day Laketown had ever experienced since Smaug literally burned their city, so it should have said a lot about the ocean eyed girl.

Tilda quickly became known throughout Laketown as Bard’s troublesome child, that her siblings always could be found chasing after.

The young girl had always been a fan of climbing, and would try to literally climb anything she came across, including people. Her own da was her favorite, and he didn’t mind.

Tilda has always been a lot like her ma, assertive, stubborn, playful, and all over the place. Think five year old Yuki from Wolf Children, but spanning over the majority of her life.

Tilda was too young to remember anything about her ma, so she didn’t feel any sadness about her death, which she was happy about considering how many nights Bain has cried into Sigrid’s arms about her. It did make her feel a bit isolated from her family however, as they had something that she didn’t have.

During the battle of the five armies, this gal was hyped.

When the elves had arrived to help out the men of Dale, she basically bombarded every single one with questions, including the elven king himself.

And when her da and the king eventually fell in love and got married, she didn’t hesitate leaving dale to live in Mirkwood and get trained as an elf.

And I’m not going to talk so much about that, since I already covered that here.

But because of the fact that her da married the king of Mirkwood, it also meant that she was technically a princess of Mirkwood, and she hated that part.

Tilda is not one to just sit still and listen to when people talk. Either she will fall asleep, or she will start to babble about something irrelevant, causing quite a few problems here and there.

Legolas found her hilarious.

She’s not someone who holds her tounge while speaking with people she do not agree with, so more than once has she gotten into an argument with a council member about something, and she’s not one to hold back on the profanities.

Again, Legolas found her hilarious.

When it came to studying she was the same, mostly falling asleep during lessons or just not paying attention at all.

But when it came to more physical stuff, like hand to hand combat, or sword fighting, or archery, she was an expert.

She still stuck to her roots though, and could always be found climbing stuff, because she likes to feel tall.

It got out of hand for a while, as every time she traveled through a forest she would jump between the trees instead of walking on the path.

Because of the fact that she always stayed in Mirkwood and didn’t visit Dale much, she gained a much better relationship with Legolas than she did with her other siblings.

The two bonded over their total lack of self control, their love of nature and their archery skills.

Despite Legolas being her best friend, Tilda has other Elven friends.

There was Aria, the tailor who was a total snob but still kind enough.

Mambar, the soldier who had two daughters but no wife.

Taleki, the pretty much outcast who cuts his hair with a piece of glass so it looks jagged and spiky.

Kamarind, the fisherman that has never been clean in his life.

Vivian, the blind artist who lost her brother.

And Talalia, the kindest, most beautiful and most amazing person in middle earth.

Or, that’s at least what Tilda thinks.

Tilda is, to put it simply, a bit of a slut.

She sleeps around, she flirts with everyone, and she won’t shy to have sex with people of other races. What she’s attracted to changes every day, and she’s quite fluid in her sexuality.

And that applies to everyone except for Talalia.

Talalia is a tall, slender, pale, red haired elf, with soft freckles and a beaming smile. She works with the animals of Mirkwood, like horses, rabbits, elks, cats, and sometimes even spiders.

Tilda met her when she was about fifteen, when she’d found a small injured elk calf, and took it to Talalia for help.

Talalia helped Tilda nurse the small calf back to health, and while doing it they got talking.

Tilda ended up keeping the calf and named it Aloe, and Talalia was more than happy to help her take care of the small little fellow.

Aloe grew up beside Tilda, which made him very attached, and quite spoiled. Tilda often used to say that the only one who could rival the elks ego was Thranduil, so she always made sure not to give him to much praise or it would go to his head. She gave him plenty of treats though.

Anyways, back to Talalia.

Talalia was like Aloe’s other mom, as she was honestly the only other person he was okay with (He totally hated Legolas, always tried to bite his fingers off). She did not hold back on the praise and scratching, and Tilda always grumbled a bit when she did as she knew he would preen like hell the next few weeks.

Tilda didn’t know when she fell in love with Talalia, she just did all of a sudden, and to her own surprise she had a hard time confronting her feelings about it, but she just assumed that it would all work out fine.

It was when she received an invitation to Talalia’s wedding that she realized that it would not work out fine.

Tilda’s biggest personal problem in her life, was that she often felt coddled and felt that no one was taking her seriously.

Sure, she was a bit wild, but she was a master archer, a trained elven soldier, the daughter of a dragon slayer and a king, and one of the best climbers of middle earth, and yet people still one saw her as the family’s annoying youngest sibling.

It didn’t help that Legolas was one of the best archers in middle earth and the heir to the throne of Mirkwood, Sigrid was the queen of Dale and the best healer there was, and Bain was an excellent soldier despite his blindness and captain of the royal guard of Dale.

Meanwhile Tilda was just...okay in comparison. She was a good archer, but not as good as Legolas. She was an okay healer, but Sigrid was better. She had it easy to get along with people, but Bain was a master at it.

She could climb stuff fairly good, but that wasn’t much to boast about.

Plus, because of the fact that she was the youngest, and had a habit of getting herself injured, her family didn’t quite trust her. They didn’t want her leaving Mirkwood without an escort, and she always had to ask for permission, despite being way over an adult.

So when she was given the opportunity to follow Legolas to the council of Elrond, she turned it down just because she didn’t feel like doing something they wanted her to do.

And she regretted it ever since, because if she would have followed then she would have had the chance to really come out of the house and do stuff.

She still got Aloe and rode off when she got a message from Sigrid about coming to Gondor, without telling her da or Ada because they would have stopped her.

It was the feeling of total freedom as she rode to Gondor, that made her want to do this and never stop. Aloe was strong and quick, and only needed to stop a few times for about half an hour, so Tilda managed to arrive before Dale.

It was then that she met the hottest fucking person she’d ever met in her life, and she was just ready to go down on him right then and there.

Unfortunately, he was her brother’s loved one, so she didn’t make any moves on him. Well, she made a few, but it was just some light flirting.

Both Tilda and Aloe made it out fine, thankfully, and Tilda was already planning on letting everything go and just live in the woods with Aloe for the rest of life.

Which she did, after a long argument with both her Da and Ada and her siblings.

Tilda became known throughout small villages in Middle earth as the witch with the elk, despite not being a witch at all. She was just a weird girl with ocean blue eyes, wandering around with her elk and killing beasts that some Villages had problems with.

And one of those beasts was a Forest Dragon that had killed six people of the village, and had stolen a lot of their gold.

And Tilda didn’t even hesitate, she just grabbed the black arrow she stole from her da a long time ago and started to hunt down the dragon.

She didn’t think of The Dragon Curse for the moment, or of the consequences of her actions, she only thought of the idea of becoming a Dragon Slayer, meaning that she would actually be something other than the troublesome younger sibling of the family.

She killed the Forest Dragon, it wasn’t that hard they are pretty meek and doesn’t have too much of a defense, and Tilda didn’t think too much more of it, just that she could now brag about being a dragon slayer.

It was about three days later that she realized exactly what she’d done, in the middle of taking a step as well, so she fell to the frown in shock with a very confused Aloe beside her.

It took a few hours for Tilda to get out of the hole she’d fallen into, as she ended up having a panic attack right then and there, with Aloe just helplessly prancing around her, buffing her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down.

Tilda then decided to not return to Mirkwood, or Dale, or Gondor, or anything like that, as she was to ashamed of what her pride had lead her to.

Instead, she decided to set out to find other Dragonlings and Dragons, that could teach her of what would happen to her exactly, as it wasn’t really widely known.

The first she went to was of course Moln, the ice dragon in the north that was known to not kill you, as long as you didn’t try to steal from him.

Moln was ancient, with little memory of the past couple millennials, and wasn’t too much help like that, but he did recommend to find a Swamp Dragonling, as they are generally not too agressive or deadly.

It took almost two years for Tilda to find another Dragonling, an at that point scales had already started to form on her hardened neck, and she was getting a bit impatient.

The Dragonling was a former elf named Reskal, that had killed a Swamp Dragon almost a hundred years prior. He told her about the pain of the wing formation, and the behavior differences she would experience, neither of which was something that she looked forward to.

And Reskal was right, around ten years after she’d killed the Forest Dragon she had the worst year of her life, and when her wings were finally out and ready to go, she was practically just skin and bone as it hadn’t been easy to hunt while in constant pain, so the meals had been rare.

Tilda has been forced to send Aloe away, as she feared what she might have done to him if the dragon instincts kicked in.

That turned out to be a mistake in her part, but also probably the best thing she’s ever done in the long run, as Aloe was quickly to run to Gondor to find Legolas.

Aloe didn’t like Legolas at all, anyone who would try to get the attention of his mama away from him was automatically evil, but his mama was in pain and he knew that the mean elf could help her.

When Legolas saw Aloe willingly come up to him, without Tilda by his side, he immediately knew something was up and Aragorn barely had time to follow after him when his husband got on his horse and rode after the elk.

Aloe led the two to a Forest, where they at first couldn’t find Tilda. It was first when she jumped out of a tree, her wings spread out and her teeth and claws barren, that they realized why Aloe had been so stressed.

Tilda had gone into beast mode, and it took a good while for her to fully catch Legolas’ scent and calm down, as he was a part of her treasure and she wouldn’t hurt him.

It took two days for Tilda to come back to her senses, and during that time Legolas and Aragorn managed to piece together what had happened, Tilda had become a Forest Dragon Slayer.

When Tilda had finally calmed down and had returned to her less animal behavior, she was held by her brother as she cried into his arms, scared of what she’d become, and what she might do.

After the two doing their very best to calm her down, which was not easy since Tilda was not one to show any vulnerable emotions so she’s been bottling up shit for years, they helped her up and separated, as Aragorn needed to go back to Gondor while Legolas would follow his sister to Mirkwood.

Legolas tried his very best to get out what had happened out of Tilda on their journey, as she knew the consequences of killing a dragon, and why in Valars name she did it anyway. Tilda didn’t feel like talking however, she just sat on Aloe as he walked, completely trapped in her own mind.

When they arrived at Mirkwood, Legolas took her straight to her da who just a few years prior had gone through his own wing transformation, though as a wyvern they had grown out of his arms instead of his back. Very painful indeed.

Her da was more than shocked when he saw his his daughter with wings growing out of her back, and horns halfway done on her head.

Bard forced Legolas to leave and sat down with his daughter, trying to comfort her while at the same time try to make her explain why she’d killed a dragon.

It took almost half an hour for Tilda to break, and explain that she’d just wanted to be something like her siblings, and that her pride had gotten in her way.

Bard was very comforting, and he told her that he wasn’t angry, just scared for her.

Tilda stayed in Mirkwood for a few years, just to be able to fully calm down and get a grasp of what had happened. She was gifted an enchanted cloak that could hide her wings, horns, and tail, so she wouldn’t get weird or scared looks while outside.

Tilda couldn’t stay in Mirkwood forever though, as she now had gotten a taste of freedom and felt like a caged bird. She grabbed her stuff one night, left a note, and then rode off on Aloe.

And it went okay. She continued to help small villages with their issues, and even taught a few kids how to fight with a sword.

It was during winter, when Tilda and Aloe had wandered through the cold weather for three (stinkin’) days, that she fully snapped, and when she came back to her human form, all that was left of Aloe was a bloody pile of bones and mush.

That day basically only consisted of her crying and throwing up.

The next day a dagger entered her chest, and after 346 years of constant hyperactivity, she finally got to rest.

•

If modern, Tilda would not really have a sexuality, as it’s constantly changing. Instead she would just get a lot of small pride flags from all the sexualities and sew them into a giant flag.

Tilda hater saddles more than anything else, as she found them restricting and uncomfortable. She would never use a saddle when riding Aloe, or reins for that matter, and she would just trust him of where to go.

Legolas made it his life mission after meeting Merry and Pippin to not let them meet Tilda, as he knew that it would be the death of them all.

Tilda absolutely loved Fire, and would always sit in front of it for hours when it was lit. She’s gotten a lot of burn marks because of it.

Despite being a fire lover, her favorite season was winter, as she found the snow so fun.

Tilda and Legolas would always have something to argue about, as siblings do. The most common thing was that one of them stole the other’s hairbrush.

Tilda absolutely loved Rivendell, as they weren’t so strict about what she could and couldn’t do, plus her favorite activity was to annoy Lindir.

Because of her amazing climbing ability and the fact that she never used a saddle unless forced to, she had gained an amazing balance.

AU Masterpost

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knightthunderis · 4 years

Text

New York and Karyson Wolfe

Chapter 2- New York and Karyson Wolfe

In an alley just outside Russo’s Grill in New York, Jamison Logan Reimeiko Thunderis McKagan Llewellyn threw the last of the night’s trash into the big trash dumpster outside.

[A few more hours here just to make this look good, then I can be glad to get home and back to my routine.] she thought. As Knight Thunder, she and her Knights had helped to bust Raymond Fitzgerald, one of the biggest mob bosses and drug lords around. For the last fifty generations, the Fitzgerald Crime family had been using their royal nobility and duchies to manufacture and run their illegal runners, claiming diplomatic immunity every time they got busted, so the International Crime busting Enforcers, or I.C.E as they were called, called on Knight Thunder and her Enforcers for help to bring the crime syndicate down by interrupting and catching the drug lord in the act of the transfer. Jamison went undercover at Russo’s with the rest of her Knights close by. But he was not just using Russo’s as his constant cover for drops. But he was also taking Russo’s for everything they had in exchange for ‘protection’ against unruly vandals. “It is just another glamourous night in New York on a Saturday night taking out the garbage to the dumpster.”

“It could be worse.” Alex said. “There could be...RATS! Rei, Help.”

Jamison laughed. “Alexander, you are such a scaredy-cat. Do not tell me that you are afraid of this little mouse family. They are just trying to get by the same as the rest of us.”

“Hey Reimeiko! Alexander!” Gregory snapped. “Quit slacking off out there. I know that I told you to take out the trash, but now, I am telling you to wait on that bachelor party that just walked in.”

[This was not my idea of spending this Saturday night.] Jamison thought sourly. [I want to drop my Reimeiko cover, go back to Jamison McKagan Llewellyn, my husband Tristan and the rest of the ThunderStar Crew. The last thing that I want to do is wait on a bunch of drunks who are going to be seriously grabby. I wish I were already gone.]

“Ah waitress, there you are.” one business suited man said. “We need your very best table.”

Jamison had her back to them talking to Alex, having not noticed them yet. “You know what, forget the table.” Another man said. “Bring us whiskey and lots of it.”

“Rei, please take this one.” Alexander pleaded. “I have got a date tonight and I will never make it out of here in time to go home, change and meet Tracy.”

“You really want me to take this bachelor party?” Jamison asked. “Well considering how they are dressed; the tip might be insane. But why do I get the rowdy tables?” But Alexander’s pleading gaze was her downfall. “Ugh, you so owe me one, Alex. Just go live your happily ever after for the both of us you dork.”

“I want to hear all about this tomorrow when you come in.” Alexander replied. “And Reimeiko, you are totally the best.”

“Are you still talking?” Gregory demanded. “I have seated them already. Now get to work and get over there before I dock your pay.” Ruffling, she headed over to the table where three of the men were sitting wanting to get the night over as quickly as possible. If it had not been for Knight Thunder and her Knights being called into bust the mob boss, she would have been gone from this place hours ago. But as it was, she had to stay in character until she would be able to clock out from Russo’s for good. Taking a deep breath, she turned and made her way over to the table.

“Hello gentlemen.” Jamison said. “I am Reimeiko Thunderis and I will be taking care of you this evening. The food and alcohol lists are both in the menus my manager gave you. The closest thing we have to fillet anything is Russo’s famous deluxe burger.”

“We will be fine with your best bottle of whiskey and four deluxe burgers.” Derrick Werner announced. Jamison lifted a questioning brow at the mention of four when there were only three of them present. He nodded behind her. She turned around to see Tristan Llewellyn, but in the form of Karyson Wolfe. As Reimeiko Thunderis, her heart got to pounding heavily.

[What the heck?] Jamison thought. [He, as Tristan, is supposed to be in Arkansas. I will have to check this out when I get the chance to break away from here.]

“I am sorry that I am late you guys.” Karyson said. “Thank you for your patience, Miss--”

“Reimeiko.” Jamison blurted without thinking. “I am Reimeiko Christyne Thunderis.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Reimeiko.” he said, putting on his most charming smile.

“The pleasure is all mine. It is nice to meet you too.” Jamison said, claiming her senses. “Let me get your orders in and I will be right back.”

Jamison went to turn the orders in and took a picture of the four men, Karyson included, then went into the back room to call and check in with Tristan to make sure she was not seeing things. She sent him the picture while waiting for him to answer the phone.

“That is super weird, Jamie.” Tristan replied. “You can tell by the group GPS where I am. I will get word to mom and dad and find out what they want us to do in this situation and they will update Reimeiko’s mom and dad about it too while I am thinking about it.”

“I will debrief them tonight after I get off here.” Jamison said. “I know I will need you and the Knights here on standby. I got a feeling; I am going to need you guys super close. Right now, I need to go my orders are up and ready.”

“The Knights and I will meet you at the New York apartment later tonight.” Tristan said. “Be careful Jamie. I love you and we will see you soon tonight or tomorrow.”

“I love you too Tristan.” Jamison said. She disconnected the call and stuck her phone in her pocket before taking the orders to the table. Later, a little after closing, Jamison was wiping down the bar when she was tapped on the shoulder. She turned around and came face to face with Karyson. She still could not figure out how the two personas were suddenly two separate individuals.

“I think that we are about ready to head out.” Karyson announced. “I just wanted to thank you and to apologize. I know we kept you late and my friends can be seriously demanding.”

“Demanding? That is one way to put it.” She replied. “But it was nothing, I could not handle. I have dealt with a big variety of characters before this.”

“I have a feeling that you could very easily take care of yourself.” He said with a smile. “If you do not have any plans tonight, then perhaps I can make it up to you by buying you a drink. We are about to head out to a club here in town. I was hoping you might have some recommendations on which one we might go to because we are not from around here.”

“I kind of figured you and your friends were not from around here.” She replied. “I was only here temporarily too; but I would recommend the hottest club in the jam, Destiny's Rose.”

“That sounds perfect. I know that the guys want to really go crazy tonight.” Karyson said. “And I cannot think of anyone better as a tour guide than you Reimeiko. Lead the way.”

“Okay, sure.” Jamison replied. “Let me finish up here and then I will meet you and your friends up front.” She quickly finished the clean up around the room, texted Tristan and the Knights about the change of plans, then went into the break room to change clothes out of her uniform and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and groaned. “I am so ready to get out of my uniform and back to my life as Jamison McKagan Llewellyn.” She changed into a deep green club dress and matching heels. She gathered her things into her bag as she would not be returning. “I am so ready to show this crew a good time their last night here.”

She stepped out to see Karyson and his party waiting for her. Derrick Werner was the first one to notice her, shocked at her new look but quickly gathered himself. “Whoa Nellie, you look great.” Derrick gushed. “I almost did not recognize you. That uniform was not doing you justice.”

“Yeah, the waitress is major hot.” Malachi Blanchard said with a bugged-out grin on his face.

“Her name is Reimeiko, and I doubt she appreciates you talking about her like that.” Karyson said angrily.

“You are right.” Malachi replied. “I am sorry Reimeiko. I meant to say that you look very lovely. Now let us get this party started.”

“So, she is going to be our tour guide and is coming with us?” Terrence asked seriously. “This goes completely against the rules of royal protocol you know right?”

“Actually, we are going with her and she is picking our next destination.” Karyson replied. “She knows the area whereas we do not, and I want to see as much of it as we can before we return. She was kind enough to agree to show us around. She is doing us a favor so play nice.”

(I had almost forgotten how commanding Karyson could be under the circumstances.) Jamison thought to Tristan. (What do your parents think about this turn of events where Karyson is concerned?)

(All we know is that something way out of the ordinary is going on and we will be sent to investigate it.) Tristan replied. (We know what the outcome for Karyson and Reimeiko is and my mom and dad are meeting with yours and the Universal Council right now. They should have a game plan for us soon.)

(So, for now, until we can get you and Karyson reconnected,) Jamison sighed. (Reimeiko is going to have to stay in the spotlight for now. Okay keep me posted.) A short time later, Jamison and the group arrived at the entrance of the Destiny Rose club and joined a long line of party goers waiting to get inside the club. “Here it is, the hottest club in town the Destiny Rose.”

“Yeah, I can tell by this line.” Malachi replied. “We are going to spend the rest of the night waiting for it.”

“Hey, I just knew where to go.” Jamison giggled. “How we get in is up to you guys. Though, I do know one of the bands they have playing here. They are one of the headliners for ThunderStar Enterprises and Universal.”

“Let me talk to the man at the door.” Karyson announced. He walked up to the doorman and began speaking with him. After a few minutes of the conversation, the doorman undid the velvet rope and gestured for Jamison and the group to follow and go inside the club Destiny Rose treated like royalty.

#kingliam2019 #texaskitten30 #trr1 liam MC (Reimeiko) KnightThunderis

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feanors-daughter · 4 years

Text

to the desert

Written for me by the amazing @edhelquendi (thank you so much, I keep reading this and I love it more every time)

I came to you one rainless August night.

You taught me how to live without the rain.

You are thirst and thirst is all I know.

Her eyes raked over him. It was unnerving.

They were analytical at first, and she avoided looking at his eyes as she worked on the rougher sketch, taking in each detail of his clothing, hair, figure, but not yet his face. That would come later. Still, he was meant to look at her—and there wasn’t much else to look at anyway, without turning his head. So he watched her draw.

It was during the hours of looking at her that he began to notice things about Laurelin that he hadn’t seen before.

By the end of the first hour, the sun spilled through the windows at just the right angle to illuminate her hair, transforming it at once from blood red to golden, like fire. He understood her name, and had an inkling of what the great tree had looked like, when it had stood so long before his birth.

She had tied her hair back, practical, but one strand had come loose and it slid down her pale neck. She pushed it back, smearing paint along her cheekbone. She did not seem to be aware of it, but the cycle repeated itself every few minutes—fall, push, fall, push—until her cheek became its own small canvas. It made him want to touch her. He resisted the urge to smile.

And then there were her eyes. Glowing with tree-light, so rare now, a startling blue in all the warmth of her hair and skin. He looked at them too long, he supposed, because after a while her eyes lifted to his own, met his gaze. He felt his cheeks flush. His heart rushed.

Shit.

II.

You are sand, wind, sun, and burning sky,

The hottest blue. You blow a breeze and brand

Your breath into my mouth. You reach—then bend

Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

He supposed it was foolish of him not to take her seriously.

It was hard to imagine losing to her, only because he had only known her when she was bed-bound and hobbling, and with that picture in his mind it was difficult to conjure the image of what she might have looked with blood on her sword, fire in her eyes, war painted and snarling. In all honesty, he did not really want to dwell on it—not when his feelings had formed a muddled knot in his chest, with her past being the most complicating factor that prevented easy unraveling.

She startled him with her ferocity. Smaller than him, darting around his blows, making up for in speed what she lacked compared to his own size and brute strength. He focused, dodged a blow to the head narrowly, but within a second she had hooked her foot around the back of his calf and wrenched his legs from under him. He hit the floor with a colossal crash.

He had no time to nurse his damaged pride. She had grasped his shoulders and followed him down, and now she was on all fours above him, hands pinning arms and feet pressing thighs and her thighs against his hips. She was grinning, glowing, panting with exertion, and he shuddered beneath her.

“You’ve been beaten,” she said. _Were her eyes dilated like his own? _“Admit it.”

“That was a dirty play. Let me up,” he said, low, trying to keep the newfound hunger from his voice. “Laurelin—”

“Admit it!” she said, harsher this time, and her grip shifted to pin his wrists above his head. His breath caught.

“You win. You win, all right? Let me up.”

Beat.

She lingered too close too long. It was the first moment that he dared to think that she might feel something in return—friends don’t lean so close that their breath tickles your cheeks. He held his breath.

And then she pulled back, at last, offered him a hand up. He took it. She pulled him to his feet. Their eyes met, and at last his lips curled into a smile.

“Again?”

III.

You wrap your name tight around my ribs

And keep me warm. I was born for you.

Above, below, by you, by you surrounded.

It was touch and go for a while.

When he had returned from the skirmish, his shoulder was red, red, hot and bleeding, red like her hair as she leaned over him, her eyes wide.

It wasn’t that he was going to die. The healers had worried that he might lose the use of his shoulder, or be impaired somehow, but everything had gone all right. They said he would heal, if he would agree to rest. A healer was beginning to bandage it as Laurelin leaned over him, and he opened his mouth to tell her the panic on her face was unwarranted. She silenced him with her mouth on his own.

His eyes were open wide. All he could see was skin, red lashes over closed eyes, and after a moment the feeling set in, the delicious heat of her mouth. Yet it was over in a single moment, and he sputtered.

“Save your strength.” Her voice was gentler than he had ever heard it. Her hands touched his face, and for a moment his mind was drawn away from the pain to the heat of her touch. His cheeks flushed.

Her voice was combative again, demanding answers from the healers. He would have offered them himself, but her kiss and her touch had rendered him mute. She shuddered with relief at the news that he would be all right. The healers, their witnesses, fled the room as soon as they were done and had given him something to dull the pain.

They sat, for a long moment, in silence. Gil-galad cleared his throat.

“You…”

Laurelin looked to him wordlessly, which was not at all encouraging.

“…You kissed me.”

“I did,” she said, sounding very much like she was struggling herself to reckon with it.

“…Was there a reason why?” She kissed a lot of people, he knew.

“Are you dense?” she asked, and it was suddenly aggressive, but though her arms were crossed, her shoulders were hunched, nervous, not indignant.

“You’re nervous.”

“You’re an idiot!”

At last, he laughed. She glared at him.

“Well, I liked it. Will you do it again?” he asked.

She looked at him for a moment, as if trying to judge whether or not he was serious. Once she reached her decision, she slowly leaned over him, and her lips were on his again. He sighed.

It didn’t take long. Hands drifted, deft fingers undid shirts. The world faded into bliss.

They lay there afterwards. Her head was on his chest, heavy and warm. His shoulder throbbed occasionally, but it was easy to ignore it with such a beautiful distraction.

“I love you.” It tumbled from his lips too easily, and he shut his mouth. She looked up at his face for a long, fraught moment.

“I love you too,” she whispered. He smiled.

IV.

I wake to you at dawn. Never break your

Knot. Reach, rise, blow, Sálvame, mi dios,

Trágame, mi tierra. Salva, traga, Break me,

I am bread. I will be the water for your thirst.

He decided, in the week after the birth when things had settled enough for them to breathe, that there were no beings more perfect than his children.

Every little sound, each movement was a delight. Their eyes had settled into their true colors—Fëaranyë’s had retained their mother’s bright blue from birth, but Ereinion’s had settled into his father’s grey gaze.

Tomorrow they would be presented to the public, and Gil-galad thought at last about their father-names. It was not traditional for them to have received mother-names first, but Laurelin had blurted them out in the moments when they thought she would fade, and of course Gil-galad had not stopped her.

“Perhaps they should have royal names,” he mused. It hadn’t been something given to him at birth, but earned later, Ereinion, though now he supposed people would stop using it to avoid confusion with his son. “But I want them to have special ones too.”

Ereinion was curled up on his mother’s chest, a tiny hand curled into a fist, grasping at a lock of her hair. He was nearly asleep, the length of each blink increasing, but his ears twitched as he heard his father’s voice.

Fëaranyë was in Gil-galad’s arms, peering up at him, and when she caught him looking away for more than a few seconds she’d tug sharply at his hair to regain his attention. He loved her so much that he found it endearing.

“Arnion and Arniel make the most sense if you’re going the royal route,” Laurelin murmured, her hand tracing circles across Ereinion’s back to lull him to sleep. “Though they’re not terribly exciting.”

“I suppose,” he mused. He looked at Fëaranyë’s face for a long moment, and she blinked up at him as he tried to think of a fitting name.

“Baranith,” he said at last, once a long moment had passed in silence. “For her. And…” He looked at Ereinion for a moment, the plushness of his cheek against his mother’s skin, and the grey eyes like a rainy sea. “Calaeron for her brother.”

Laurelin nodded her approval. Even Fëaranyë—Baranith—was beginning to blink with tiredness now.

Gil-galad came to the edge of the bed, slowly lying down at Laurelin’s side. She curled under his arm. Fëaranyë glanced at her mother before closing her eyes.

“I love you,” Gil-galad whispered. Laurelin smiled.

“I love you too.”

(Poem excerpts are from “To the Desert” by Benjamin Alire Sáenz.)

#save tag #gil-galad

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mvnvgedmischief · 4 years

Text

two cups into my coffee break: part 2 of the coffeeshop au i started for @ireadthehpbooks

sirius black is an idiot. he’s convinced of it. because he’s already messed things up by being late to a date he planned, and this is only their third date. will he muck it up further, or will the cute barista be willing to give him a second chance at love over a latte?

2.1k words read part one here

fuck, fuck, FUCK. sirius is running towards the shoreditch grind, and it’s already 6:40. he’s pissed because he can’t believe that the mother little brat he was trying to teach to play a basic chord on the guitar for the third week in a row had the nerve to tell him it was his fault that her son wasn’t a guitar prodigy right now. she threatened to withhold payment for fuck’s sake. it couldn’t possibly be the fact that he hadn’t practiced once outside of his lessons, or that the kid so clearly wanted to play drums. but now he was fucking late and he hadn’t had the opportunity to let remus know until just a few seconds before he ran out the door. by the time he arrives at the coffee shop and book store, his hair is windblown and his face is red, and he’s done the twenty-five minute walk in ten minutes with a guitar strapped to his back. because he knows he probably looks idiotic and way too eager, he tries to take a moment to sort out his hair before walking in. when he does, he’s met with a sight he didn’t really want to see, but he knew he hadn’t done enough to avoid. there’s remus– the hottest fucking barista he’s probably ever seen – looking crestfallen while sweeping around some tables.

“i hope you don’t look that disappointed on my account.” he’s plastered a smile on his face, despite how absolutely stressed out he feels. he wants to come off as cool, casual, and unbothered, but the way his cheeks are flushed from running betrays him and he knows it.

“you came!” remus definitely didn’t mean to say that out loud, and he’s blushing all the way down his collar. sirius would definitely like to know how far that blush goes, but that’s definitely not something he wants to admit out loud. “sorry– i just thought you were looking for a way to get out of doing this.”

“and miss an opportunity to see you? do you think i have enough restraint to not see the cutest barista i’ve ever met?” “flattery will get you everywhere, sirius. but i doubt you needed me to tell you that, givne thee circumstances.” remus smiles, and sirius’s heart skips a beat. “you ready to go?”

“yeah, let me just put back this broom and grab my book.” remus disappears into the breakroom, where the shop owner, marlene, is waiting to take over. his heart is racing, and he feels like he might be flushed to the ears right now. his hands are shaking as he pulls off his apron, hanging it on a hook, and he can hear her making fun of him for the way he’s blushing.

“aw, moony! he’s cute then, yeah?” “so fucking cute, you have no idea.” the tiny blonde pokes her head out from the back room, giving sirius a once over and grinning. when she returns, remus is staring in the mirror, adjusting his tawny curls and the way his hat sits upon them. “moony, you didn’t tell me he looked like a model! now stop preening and get out there! i want details when you get home mister.” “fine mum.” he grumbles, but the grin on his face tells a different story. he walks out from behind the counter, and sirius immediately slots their fingers together.

god could he be any cuter with his stupid hat and his stupid baggy jeans, his beat up converse and his retro jumper? sirius thinks that boys like remus, hell remus himself will be the death of him, and they haven’t even left yet.

“so i’m kind of really bad at this whole thing–” “oh i couldn’t tell, sirius. the first two dates and the being an hour late thing didn’t tip me off.” “oi were you a prefect in secondary school or something?” “yes actually.” remus blushes again, and fuck he hates his pale skin in that moment. “anyways, as i was saying i don’t really know the best place to take someone on a date. i was hoping you might have some recommendations. or, if you’re like– my brand of idiot– we could get a takeaway and have an impromptu picnic. ‘s kinda nice out.” “there’s a cute place in covent garden that i like, if you’re up for the hike ??” “ oh really?? i live on the picadilly, so that’s actually really convenient for me.” “sounds like a plan then.” remus is grinning as they walk towards the tube station, and his grin only gets wider as sirius snakes an arm around the other man’s waist. he knows that he’s kind of touchy for a first date, but he feels like he needs it. like some kind of touch starved animal. maybe it was because he hadn’t been close to someone since before reg’s funeral. he hasn’t done anything really since before. which kind of frustrates him now, because fuck he feel like he’s lost his mojo. he feels like a bumbling, blushing idiot. the two of them make their way down to the tube station and step on to train. sirius stands, leaning against the side of the carriage smiling and joking with remus. he notices that the other man seems to sway on his feet, and his brows furrow with concern. he doesns’t feel like he should ask– like it was some kind of more personal question- so instead after the next stop, he gestures to two open seats to sit.

remus hates this. he hates that sometimes his heart just doesn’t function well enough for him to stand. he hates it even more when this man– this sweet, impossibly attractive man– notices that something is wrong. he can practically read it on sirius’s face, and remus just wishes hiss body would get it’s shit together for once, so he could have one normal night. that doesn’t stop him from being thankful when the two of them sit, fingers slotting together once more. it makes his heart ache in his chest, in the best way possible, and the two of them continue talking and laughing until they come to their stop.

remus guides sirius out of the tube station and to the tiny french cafe that he and lily usually frequent on payday. it’s small and adorable, in remus’s opinion, all warm-toned lights marble tables, and dark wood. the two get a table outside, and remus knows what he wants before he’s even really browsed the menu. his eyes are lit up as he talks to sirius about anything and everything, from what they did for a-levels to what they’re up to now, and he’s kind of enjoying hearing about the bratty child and his mother that had made sirius late in the first place.

“so you like kids?” “yeah! the little fuckers are adorable– an’ i remember learning to play guitar. i think i would have loved to have a fun teacher that i got along with... i think when i work with teens that’s the best because they uh– they have a lot of emotion tied up in music an’ i remember being like that.” “yeah i guess. i dunno, like, i didn’t like being a teenager.” “oh yeah, me either. uh– shit was dark. but i feel like it would have been nice to have someone in my life that i could talk to. not that i have this weird father figure relationship with the kids or anything life that or anything. just like an older brother figure? do what i–” he cuts himself off, trying to figure out a way to stop himself from talking in that moment. he doesn’t want to talk about it. not really. but at the same time, he’s definitely a let me warn you about all this shit beforehand so you don’t get involved in my mess type of guy. “ you okay?” “yeah, i’m okay, sorry.” “don’t worry about it, love. thoughts on champagne? to celebrate you coming out with me, despite how ridiculously late i was.” theen it’s remus’s turn to feel uncomfortable because he’s not getting paid until the end of the week and he doesn’t really have the disposable income to waste on a bottle of bubbly. “i just– not to sound like a poor coffee shop worker– but i work in a coffee shop and i’m kind of broke.” “don’t worry, love. i’ve got it. you can get our next date.” “oh, so there’s a next date?” “sure hope so. i hope i didn’t screw it up too much.” “i’d like that.” sirius orders their drinks, as well as food, and they continue to talk and laugh. this feels easy in a way being around his friends hasn’t been in months. maybe it’s because his friends new reg, and they knew that sirius had left him behind. maybe the guilt was still eating him alive, regardless, he’s thankful for this. when they finally finish their meal, sirius notices remus’s cheeks are tinted just a bit pink. when they leave, sirius can’t help his giggles, and he’s feeling fucking bold because he invites remuss to come back with him. they spend their night together, and sirius couldn’t be more excited. especially not when he wakes up the next morning to remus in his arms, and hickies across his collarbones. remus is still asleep, so sirius takes a moment to admire the sharp lines and soft curves of the other man’s body, the pads of his calloused fingers tracing down the scars on his lover’s back. remus slowly stirs at that, and sirius wonders if the look that crosses remus’s face is panic or fear, because the other man does not look thrilled.

“do you want to know where they came from or something?”

“if you want to tell me then yeah. if you don’t, that’s fine too.”

“‘s not a big deal. some guy broke into my parents’ house when i was a kid. fucked me up royally but i don’t remember it or anything.”

“i’m sorry love.” sirius whispers into the other man’s hair. “my baby brother died six months ago. that’s why i kind of clammed up last night.”

“you didn’t have to tell me— if you weren’t ready.”

“yeah, i did. mutually assured destruction. we’re big on that, in this flat.”

“huh, my flatmate lily has been saying that a lot recently. usually when we get stoned but she still has work to do.”

“yeah, ‘s a policy, my flatmate, James lives by.” as sirius is saying it, he hears the front door open. “speak of the devil, i swear.” he grins, and their ears are met with the call of james from the entryway. “sirius ! i brought my girlfriend and breakfast!” “are we at the meet the best mate point in the relationship, or should i get rid of them?” “oh there’s a relationship?” “kinda hoping so. otherwise it’d suck that i just told you i have a dead brother.” “then i guess we’re at the meet the best mate point in the relationship.” remus grins, pressing a light kiss to sirius’s cheek. fuck does it give him butterflies. and then they’re rolling out of bed, remus pulling on a jumper from the end of sirius’s bed, and his jeans. sirius also pulls on a jumper and some sweats. the two of them exit the room, and their met with the shocked expression of both lily and james. “remus when did you start sleeping with my best mate?” james asks, and sirius feels like he might be blushing all the way down to his collar. “james’s best mate is your cute coffee shop regular! you know we could have set this up for you guys so much sooner if you had told us.” “i’m sorry– you two know each other?” sirius feels very out of the loop in this moment. “remus is my best mate.” lily supplies, and honestly sirius is glad to be clued in. “guess i don’t have to bring breakfast home for you then.” “not really” remus beams “unless you want me to go, sirius.” but as soon as the words have been spoken, sirius is enthusiastically disagreeing. the four of them sit and talk over breakfast, remus’s fingers interlocked with sirius’s as they catch up with james and lily. it’s nice, having something like this again. and sirius wouldn’t trade it for the world. he likes the idea of a budding romance between himself and remus, and he thinks remus likes it as well. that’s why, when he walks remus out the door, and they share a sweet kiss, he doesn’t fear that it’s the last time he’ll watch remus walk out the door. instead, he already starts planning the next time remus walks in.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius x remus #modern au #harry potter #marauders drabble #sirius and remus #moony and padfoot

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marinaaniseed · 5 years

Text

Dark ‘n’ Stormy Pt. 7

3,866 words. If you read my earlier post, you’ll know this took a slight turn.

Summary: Thor & Y/N go out for dinner. It doesn’t go as planned. Some Asgardians are mean. Drunk Y/N gives them what for. There is NSFW smut at the end.

Contains swears, drinking, smut, self-esteem issues...the usual, really.

Thoughts, feedback, amusing insults...all are welcomed.

Everything was going well until you walked into the pub. One gentle hand held yours, keeping it warm, as you walked through New Asgard. You heard the pub before you saw it. Probably not the ideal place for conversation, but as long as there was dinner, and there was Thor, it would be fine.

Thor held open the heavy door, and a few people turned to glance at you before the whole place turned silent when they saw who was following you over the threshold. The barmaid kept pouring the pint, even though the tankard was overflowing. One man dropped his bottle, smashing it on the floor. Several people were gingerly dropping to one knee, seemingly unsure if this is what they should be doing.

Looking back at Thor, you could see the panic rising, watching him become overwhelmed by it all. It’d been a long time since he’d been around so many people, except on a battlefield. Even longer, really, since he’d been surrounded by Asgardians.

You were about to say something, to let him know that it was ok, that you could leave if he wanted when a man in an ebony tunic that matched his hair approached you.

“Your majesty,” he rumbled, bowing deeply. “It is an honour to have you with us in my humble establishment. Please, allow me to seat you.”

Thor really didn’t want to be there, with everyone staring at him, but he knew the trouble it would cause if he declined. He nodded his assent and the two of you followed the man to a booth at the back of the pub.

“Please, allow me to take your cloak, m’lady,” the man said, and you unfastened it, handing it over, before sliding across the vermilion leather. Thor joined you, albeit less easily, his stomach resting on top of the table.

“Let me get you some drinks,” the man said, hurrying off without asking you what you’d like.

You didn’t think you’d ever seen anyone look more uncomfortable than Thor did now. And although the other patrons had resumed their drinks and conversations, it was notably muted in comparison. That didn’t stop you from seeing the stares or overhearing snippets.

“-I’ve never seen him in here before…”

“Who is that woman he’s with?”

“What’s wrong with Asgardians? What does he even see in Midgardian women?”

“-used to be a really attractive man.”

“How did she get him?”

“-will help him lose the weight.”

“Thor?” you asked, taking his hand and rubbing your thumb over the back of it. “Do you want to go?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. I don’t want to be here. It’s too much. All these people I’ve let down. But I don’t want to be rude.”

“It’s ok, we can have our drinks and then go,” you soothed.

The ebony-haired man returned with a tray laden with drinks. You hoped he was serving several tables, as they do in North America, but no. All of the drinks were carefully deposited on the table in front of the two of you. Thor must’ve looked as confused as you did, because the man bowed a little, before addressing him.

“Your majesty, I thought you might like to sample the beverages we’ve been creating here in New Asgard.”

“What-what are they?” Thor asked, realising that you wouldn’t be going anywhere in a hurry.

“These two are what the Midgardians call gin. They also have different kinds of beer that we have learned to make. We have a pale ale, witbier, imperial brown ale, imperial stout and saison. Aquavit. Cider And, of course, mead,” he said, smiling at you both. “We’ve been unable to produce wine so far, but we’re still working on it.”

“Th-thank you. How much is this?” Thor asked.

“Nothing, it is an honour to have you here, your majesty,” he said before excusing himself.

You could see Thor wince every time the man said “majesty”. It was hard seeing him like this, but you knew, too, that it must be quite jarring for the Asgardians to have seen their leader shun then, having brought them to this strange planet.

“Well,” you exhaled, grabbing the gin. “Let’s start with the strongest and work our way down.”

“Is that wise?”

“Probably not. But it’s like being in a chili eating contest. You start with the hottest one first and then your mouth will hurt so bad, you won’t notice the other ones.”

“That’s...an interesting approach,” Thor huffed, managing to laugh a little. “Tell me then, what is this gin?”

“Erm, well normally people drink it with a mixer - most commonly tonic - but from the looks of things, this is neat. It mainly tastes of juniper, not sure if you had those on Asgard? I’d say sip it. If it’s smooth, you can probably just sip the whole thing, like a good whisky. If it’s rough as arseholes, sink it and move on.”

“You certainly have a way with words,” Thor said, trying not to laugh, despite his continuing unease.

“Yeah, well. Some of us weren’t brought up in a royal court. Skål, as the Norwegians say,” you said, lifting your glass.

“We say that too,” he enthused, clinking his glass with yours.

The gin was...not good. Paint stripper gin is probably how you would’ve described it. The first sip caused you to splutter and cough, and Thor didn’t seem to be holding up much better.

“Yeah...that’s not great. But it’s also not a traditional Asgardian drink, is it?”

Thor shook his head.

“Right, let’s down this gut rot and get rid of it.”

Thor was certainly impressed by the way you grabbed the glass and chugged away at it, despite your grimace, until it was all gone. He followed suit and waited for you to tell him what was next.

Plates of bread, meats, fish, cheese and berries appeared at some point. You tried a little of each, but in all honesty, Thor ate the majority, which was fine by you. He enjoyed his food, took pleasure in it, you could see the hint of a smile each time he tasted something particularly good.

You felt a little bad for him, squeezed into the booth, his tummy rounded out in front of him onto the table. Only a little bad though, because you were enjoying the sight of it, so soft, so big, so round, right there in front of you. It took all your restraint not to slide your fingers between two of the buttons of his shirt to touch it, feeling it bloat as he drank and ate.

Around the time you started drinking the cider was when it really went wrong. It was one of those ciders where the sweetness belied its strength. The noise in the pub died down at just the wrong moment, so that your conversation with Thor was interrupted by a woman getting rowdy at the bar, staring over at your table and pointing.

“-just so pathetic, just look at him! Getting fat, drinking all the time, parading his Midgardian whore for all to see! We all know what those storms are about! Bet she’s only after him for his-”

The rest of her tirade was drowned out by Thor, roaring as he stood up, sending the remaining drinks flying. Without a word, he stormed out, leaving you soaked in beer, cheeks burning, with everyone staring at you.

You shouldn’t have said anything. Should’ve kept your dignity. But you were several drinks in on an almost empty stomach, and pretty much nothing was going to get you to hold your tongue. You stood up on the leather seat, so that everyone could see you, slowly clapping your hands.

“Amazing. Well done. Do you have any idea what you just did there? He finally feels well enough to be a part of your society and this is how you treat him?”

“He abandoned us! After-” the woman at the bar tried to continue.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarled, glaring at her. “This is hard, for all of you, I get it. You’ve lost everything. But it’s not his fault. He did the best that he could and his best wasn’t good enough. He brought you here, I guess because he thought it was the best, the safest place that he could think of.

“The last few years have not been kind to any of us. But how the fuck do you think he feels? His mum, his dad, his brother. They’re all dead and there’s no way that could be undone. He found out he had a sister and then she tried to kill him, taking his eye in the process. You don’t have to like everything that he’s done but try to see it from his perspective.

“He got banished here...but who among you wouldn’t have tried to take revenge if someone ruined an event you’d looked forward to your whole life? When he brought Jane Foster to Asgard, do you think he feels good about the fact that the dark elves attacked and killed people? No! Of course, he doesn’t! His own mother was one of them. But if someone you cared about was sick, and you knew where they could get help, wouldn’t you do it?

“And after that, when he disappeared? He was trying to find the infinity stones. To stop Thanos. Yeah, it didn’t work, but he tried. Which is more than the rest of us can say. And again, when he went to forge Stormbreaker. There are some things in life that cannot be fixed with muscle or lightning or even sheer force of will. None of us could’ve done any better. I doubt any of us would’ve held up as well as he did for as long as he did. He thinks it’s his fault that half of us got dusted. But that’s all on Thanos.

“Who among us has not drowned their sorrows or eaten their feelings to try to forget what has happened? Hmm? He has been fighting for you, trying to protect you, for as long as he has been able to. What are five bad years in the grand scheme of a life that’s already lasted over 1,000 years? He needs you more than you need him now. He needs his people to show him love, compassion, understanding. Fight for him, and protect him, just like he has protected you.

“And, so what if he doesn’t look how he used to? That is not a good measure of who is and what he has done. Even though he couldn’t bring back his family, he still fought to bring back yours, losing his friends in the process. And this is the thanks he gets? You’re lucky he’s far kinder than I could ever be. You’re lucky he’s even here at all, trying to look after you, in his own way, even when he can’t look after himself.

“And me? I’m not a whore. I fuck because I enjoy it, not for money. I don’t know where this distrust, disdain, dislike for people like me comes from, but here’s the thing. You are on my planet now. You need to get used to us and accept us, or you can fuck right back off into space. I’ve lived on this planet a longer than you have, and let me tell you, yes, there are some terrible fucking people out there, but on the whole, we’re an alright bunch. But treating us like shit will not make your stay here any better.

“Now, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to work, and I’m here to help. And I will come here every lunchtime for as long as I live in New Asgard, and tell you about life on this planet, and help you to adjust if that will help. But I will not be the subject of rumour and jealous gossip, and I will not have you talk to him, or about him, like that, after everything he has sacrificed for the people of Asgard. Maybe, just maybe, the reason he likes Midgardian women is that we actually listen to him, instead of thinking of him as a piece of meat, a notch on your bedpost to say that you bedded the mighty Thor, instead of getting to know who he really is. You were the people who put him on a ridiculous pedestal, who made him out to be perfect, infallible, and he is the one who has to suffer.

“Right,” you announced, grabbing a glass and draining the dregs that weren’t covering you or the table. “My apologies to those of you who were polite, I’m sorry for interrupting your evening. To the rest of you, I hope you’re ashamed. I hope you think about what has happened here, and if he ever has the courage to venture out again, I hope you behave with a bit more decency.”

You slammed the glass, grabbed your bag and jumped down to the floor, and were almost at the door when a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“What?” you hissed, whirling around.

“Your-your cloak, m’lady,” the ebony-haired man replied, offering the heavy garment to you.

“Oh right, yes. Thank you. And I’m sorry about that.”

“No, no it’s ok. It was...refreshing. I think people needed to hear that.”

***

With the cloak slung over your arm, you storm out into the dark night. You’ve no idea where Thor went, so you circle around to the right. He’s sat on the ground, back against the cold wall of the pub.

“Hey,” you said, announcing your presence before sitting down on your cloak next to him. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. She shouldn’t have said those things.”

“No...but she did have some points. I am pathetic and fat and I drink all the time. My father once told me that I was unworthy of these realms, unworthy of my title, unworthy...of the loved ones I have betrayed! And he was right!” Thor heaves, angry tears running down his face.

“That’s not true, Thor,” you said hugging him to your chest. “I’m sure he was angry when he said that but I don’t think he meant it. The ones who love us most say the things that hurt us the most because we value their opinion the most. I couldn’t do what you do, to keep trying, when everything you say or do or don’t is a public matter and open to the scrutiny and opinion of everyone.”

“I thought I wanted to be king, I thought I would be good…”

“And you are. Were. Whichever. I’m sure your father must’ve done things that the other Asgardians didn’t like,” you assured him.

“Ha, yeah. Just ask Brunnhilde.”

“Well, there you go. People often remember the past as being better than it was. Sometimes they need to be reminded that you have feelings too, and that you’re allowed to make mistakes.”

“Yeah, I, uh, heard you. In there. Telling people…” Thor admitted, a little embarrassed.

“Ah.”

“You were quite loud, I was impressed. I didn’t realise Midgardian women could be so loud. I thought it was just the men, like Stark.”

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you.”

“No, no, not at all. You’re just the latest in a long line of wonderful women who’ve defended me over the years. My mother, Sif, the Valkyrie...thank you for standing up for me. It means a lot that you, who have known me for such a short time, would be the one to defend me. That is what Asgard seems to have lost, a willingness to fight for what is right. But they have already fought so much, I don’t blame them.”

“It’s a sorry state of affairs if your only defender is an angry drunk woman,” you smiled, trying to make light of the situation.

“I’ve gone into battle with Brunnhilde, sometimes an angry drunk woman is what you need,” he laughed. “I’m sorry tonight didn’t go as planned.”

“That’s alright, my sweet bear. The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men, gang aft agley.”

Thor knows you’ve said something profound, in a language similar, but different to your own. Anything more than that has him stumped, and his face shows it.

“That’s Rabbie Burns, he was a Scottish poet. It basically means that the best-laid plans often go wrong.”

“Oh right, I see. My brother liked poetry and books and things. I guess you could say I preferred more physical activities.”

“Oh, is that so?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at him. “How about we go home and do some physical activities? More gentle than this morning though, it was a struggle sitting in there,” you said, nodding your head back towards the pub.

Thor doesn’t need to be asked twice.

***

You arrived back at Thor’s, having collected your meagre belongings from the hut. He’d been surprised by how little you had, but you assured him that the majority of your stuff was in storage back home. The posy he’d picked for you had also made its way to the cabin.

“Do you think you’ll go back?” he’d asked and you’d responded with a shrug. He knew better than to press the issue.

You were glad to get back. After the initial rush of adrenaline, you realised how cold you were with the now sodden dress sticking to your legs.

“Thor, would you mind helping me out of this?” you requested as he gently put the backpack containing your belongings on the floor.

“Certainly.”

You could’ve done it yourself, but you just wanted Thor to be close to you, to feel like he was helping. To feel like he was valued.

“Why is it all wet?” he asked as he grabbed the hem of the dress to help pull it up and over.

“The dress or me?” you smirked.

“The-the dress…” You really were the worst, he’d decided. He couldn’t keep up that mouth of yours. Oh, that mouth of yours, and what it could do, what he wanted it to do...

“Well, when you left the pub, you sent the drinks flying, and I ended up wearing some of them,” you explained as he lifted the fabric over your head.

“I’m truly sorry, I can’t seem to do anything right,” he mumbled, folding the dress and placing it on top of the dresser.

“That’s not true, Thor.”

When he turned around, the sight of you took his breath away. Stood there in your lingerie and your boots, he felt himself grow erect in seconds.

“If I’d have known that was what you were wearing underneath, I wouldn’t have bothered to take you out,” he said, trying not to ogle you too much. The tiny scraps of fabric between him and the most sensitive parts of you were more arousing to him than seeing you naked. The bites and bruises mottling your skin should’ve made him feel embarrassed but it excited him even more. He’d left those marks, and you’d allowed him to do it. That was the powerful thing about it. You allowed him to do it. Because you enjoyed it, because wanted him to do it, because you wanted him.

Because you wanted him.

“See something you like?” you smirked again. He just nodded in response, his tongue too stupid to say what his mind wanted to express. “Let me show you something you do very right.” You stepped forward, grabbing him by the suspenders, pulling him towards you as you backed yourself up against the wall. Once he was pressing into you with his round stomach, you ran your fingers up into his hair, pulling him down to kiss you. You could feel his hardness digging into you.

What was left of your lipstick was firmly smeared around Thor’s mouth when he stepped back from you. After the disaster of the rest of the evening, you wanted it to have a happy ending, so you slid the suspenders off his shoulders and down his strong arms, before unbuttoning his shirt and jeans, freeing his stomach.

“Mmm,” you purred as you pressed hungry kisses to his skin, hands caressing all that you could grab. “I think we should get you out of this, don’t you?”

Thor removed his clothes and let you guide him to the bed. He saw the way you looked at his hard-on and hoped you could read his mind. He’d never experienced anything like it when you’d taken him in your mouth during the shower.

He silently thanked the Norns when you settled between his plush thighs and began licking his shaft, one hand caressing his inner thigh. When you began to suck him in earnest, working your way down slowly, until you had him fully inside you, his breath came in noisy rasps. Your forehead nodded into the downy underside of his tummy and he cursed the fact that he couldn’t see you over it.

“Stupid...fat...gut. Wish...I...could...watch...you,” he huffed.

You pulled off him and stood up, much to his dismay.

“C’mon, get up. Come over here,” you commanded and he obeyed you, unsure of what you had in mind, but trusting that he’d like it. You got him to stand near the mirror, side-on, before dropping to your knees.

“Look in the mirror, Thor.”

The sight alone nearly made him explode. He could see it all. Him, big and powerful, standing over you, as you slowly took him back inside your mouth. Breasts jiggling behind the black lace, the swell of your backside, tinted various shades of purple. He held his tummy, feeling the heft of it, almost admiring it, so that you could take him deeper. Playing with his balls and stroking the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, he watched you blink back tears as you took him deep, repeatedly, between your delicate red lips, never looking away from the mirror. That’s what really did it for him, the way you maintained eye contact with him in the mirror. It was the kind of thing that would’ve made even Fandral, for all of his womanising, blush.

He kept his word to Brunnhilde, and refrained from causing a storm, as he came in your mouth, hard. Generous as ever, you swallowed it all, licking him clean as you withdrew. Bending down, he scooped you into his arms, hugging you close as he carried you to bed.

“Darling, thank you. That was amazing,” he rasped, his breathing still ragged. It was all catching up with you and you could feel yourself drifting off as he held you against his plush chest underneath the duvet. You were in the dip in the middle, as seemed to be the norm.

“Thor?”

“Yes?”

“If I’m going to live here, can we get a new mattress, please?”

“Yes, yes of course.” And with that, you were out like a light. Thor cursed the fact that the light was still on but he didn’t have the heart to move and wake you, so he lay his head back on the pillow, content to let you use his chest as yours.

@morganhoran1671 @innerpaperexpertcloud

#thor #thicc thor #Thor Odinson #THOR SON OF ODIN #thor smut #The Avengers #endgame thor #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #fat thor #Dark 'n' Stormy #squishy Thor #Soft Thor #reader insert #Female reader #x reader #avengers x reader

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sunsetscurving · 5 years

Text

honey, you should see me in a crown [modern royalty AU]

CHAPTER 4 || ao3 link

Lucas Lallemant, crown prince and heir to the throne, never needed someone to protect him. He never needed someone to protect him until the day he nearly got stabbed by an assassin.

Now he has to deal with an annoying bodyguard named Eliott Demaury who is, to the chagrin of Lucas, fucking handsome too.

As if his life isn’t difficult enough already.

“Eliott will be responsible for your safety from now on.”

Lucas stopped listening to his mum already five minutes ago when she started to talk about all the influence Eliott would have on Lucas’ life now. He couldn’t take his eyes away from Eliott, boldly staring at the other boy who already averted his gaze towards his feet, apparently too embarrassed about all of this to meet Lucas’ eyes. Maybe he already regretted treating Lucas so distantly. Which he actually had to because this was his job and nothing more.

This is all so fucking weird.

“Oh, and this is our youngest daughter, Cecille.”

Eliott looked finally up and his face seemed to lit up as Cece made her way towards him, sinking into a curtsey like a lady but nearly tripping over her own feet while doing so because she lost her balance. Eliott escaped a little chuckle at that while he kneeled down to be on eye-level with Cece. He stretched out his hand to kiss the back of Cece’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your Highness”, said Eliott with his low and deep voice and Lucas couldn’t help but internally swoon at this voice who had been so close to his ear just some hours ago.

Stop thinking about this. It was only a few moments. A few moments where the both of you were drunk as hell.

Cece giggled and, to Lucas’ surprise, blushed at Eliott’s words.

She’s totally head over heels for him. But who wouldn’t?

She ran back to their mother, hiding behind her legs and still looking at Eliott like he was some knight in shining armor.

Which he definitely was not.

Lucas nearly scoffed at the ridicules of all of this.

“Lucas?”

Lucas jumped as his father suddenly addressed him, making Lucas tear his glance away from Eliott who slowly got up again.

“Hm?”, made Lucas, his arms folded over his chest and his mind elsewhere.

“Have you listened to anything your mother just said?”

“Fighting practice, planning of my meetings, accompanying me to every event. Got that.”

Lucas was ready to burst out of that room and get some fresh air, maybe even facetime with his friends to tell them that the unbelievable happened and that his new bodyguard was definitely not old and rusty but young and fucking hot.

The heavy sigh from his mum made him look over to her and he suddenly felt a sting of guilt inside of him, making him loosen his tensed shoulders a bit. Lucas knew that his mum didn’t want all of this but that she saw no other possibility for Lucas to be safe. She only wanted the best for him and Lucas acted like an arsehole. But he couldn’t see all of this coming, not even in his wildest imagination. His mum was now coming over to him, taking him by both of his shoulders and looking into his eyes, the worried look on her face making her seem more older than she actually was.

“I only want you to be safe, honey”, she said quietly and Lucas closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. He was glad that his mum decided to go for a younger bodyguard in his age and not leave him alone with some grandpa type of bodyguard. But why him, from all of the thousands of people in his country. Why him?

“I know, mum”, he answered quietly and he knew that everyone else in the room was watching them, listening to their little conversation. His mum stretched out her arms and took Lucas into an embrace and Lucas allowed himself to let go for a moment, leaning against his mum. She knew that this was difficult for him, a young boy who wanted to conquer the whole world, his freedom taken away from him in an instance.

“I lost one son”, whispered his mum now and the pain, which always seemed to linger in the back of his heart, surfaced again, “I won’t lose another one just because I wasn’t careful enough.”

Lucas could only nod, swallowing against the big lump in his throat while trying to chase away the pain. He could feel the gaze from Eliott burning on his back and he separated from his mum, kissing her cheek.

“I will try my best to behave.”

Lucas’ mum smiled, ruffling her son’s hair.

“I know you will.”

Lucas smiled again while his gaze swept over to his father now.

“May I retreat?”

His father gave him a small and rare smile while nodding.

“You may.”

And without a second glance towards Eliott, he nearly ran out of the throne room, desperate to get some space between him and his new bodyguard who had been one of the hottest flirts he ever had just some hours ago.

“Hey!”

But there was no space in sight for him.

Lucas slowed down, coming to a halt and took a deep breath before turning around. Eliott was standing some steps away from Lucas, down the hallway, apparently out of breath because he tried to chase after Lucas’ quick steps. He looked like he just ran a hand through his hair which stuck out to every side of his hair. Lucas nearly let out a frustrated groan.

Who the fuck allowed you to be this handsome? This doesn’t really make it easier for me.

“What is it?”, asked Lucas, surprised that his voice really sounded that cold and annoyed. Eliott took a deep breath while coming closer to him. They were alone in that hallway but Lucas felt as if his every step, his every word would be watched from now on. Eliott came to a stop in front of him, Lucas leaning his head back a lot because he wasn’t able to look at the taller boy towering over him otherwise.

“It’s you”, said Eliott now, breaking the silence. Lucas huffed a laugh now, no humor in it though.

“It’s me, yeah. And it’s you.”

“I didn’t know you where the prince.”

“And I didn’t know you were supposed to be my watchdog.”

Eliott frowned at this. And Lucas took this chance to finally leave all of this, this whole scene, this whole Eliott-thing. This would definitely not end well. He didn’t want to have someone looking after him, but he could have maybe escaped an old and rusty man. But this… this was Eliott. The boy who had caught him off guard with his appearance and his whole being. The boy Lucas was ready to search the whole city for. And now… he was literally his enemy because Lucas didn’t need to be guarded. He had survived on his own for twenty years now and he would survive another twenty if he had to.

Lucas was just turning around again after Eliott apparently didn’t have anything to add as the other one caught his wrist, making Lucas stop in his movement while his eyes traveled down to where Eliott’s hand met his wrist. He felt his skin tingle on this place and he cursed his whole body for reacting like this. After all, this was a pure professional relationship.

No flirting, no feelings.

Professional.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

“I also didn’t want to do this”, started Eliott now, lowering his voice so that passing guards might no eavesdrop at their conversation, “I didn’t want to end up in the royal family. And yet here I am. And I will do my job, if you let me.”

No words about their night yesterday as if nothing had happened.

Maybe he was so drunk that he forgot about everything.

And, Lucas thought, this would be for the better. So he would also pretend that nothing happened between them.

P R O F E S S I O N A L.

Lucas started to smile now. But it was more like a twitching of his mouth, no warmth and kindness in it.

“It’s cute that you think I need to be guarded.”

“You were nearly killed. And your brother was.”

Lucas stared at him.

How dares he to bring this up?

But he found his composure again soon, trying to hide the pain about his brother’s dead behind a mask.

“Oh, the boy did his homework”, hissed Lucas while snapping his hand out of Eliott’s grip and turning on his heel, walking down the hallway towards the safety of his room. The safety of his room which wouldn’t be a safe place anymore since Eliott’s room would be right next to his.

“Someone is out there, trying to kill you”, called Eliott after him which made Lucas’ steps slow again. He stood with his back to Eliott, his shoulders slowly heaving while he tried to breathe normally again, “And if I can prevent this somehow, I will.”

Lucas now looked over his shoulder, directly into Eliott’s determined eyes, his jaw set.

Fuck, why is he so pretty?

“We’ll surely arrange ourselves quickly.”

Lucas turned around again, his mind wandering off once more to last night where all he felt was curiosity and something… new. Something so strong that he wanted to follow this pull, lose himself for just one night and live in the moment while he tried to find out what the new things he felt where about.

But this was never going to happen now.

Because nothing happened in the first place. Your fucking romantic self made you believe things which weren’t there.

“We’ll see”, was all that Lucas answered before fleeing into the relatively safety of his room.

lucallemant: pls kill me

basile_simple: LULUUUU

y4z4s: how did it went mec?

lucallemant: I’m gonna throw myself off a cliff rn

monvoisintuturo: it cannot be THAT bad

lucallemant: you guys have NO FUCKING CLUE

y4z4s: okay tell us everything

lucallemant: he’s not old and rusty

monvoisintuturo: but… that’s great, isn’t it?

basile_simple: I thought we would hate old and rusty

lucallemant: yeah true

y4z4s: so, what’s the problem then? maybe, if he’s our age, he will give you more freedom than anyone else

lucallemant: idk how to survive all of this

basile_simple: stop torturing us, mec and just tell us e v e r y t h i n g

monvoisintuturo: this is a rare occasion where Basile is right

y4z4s: it cannot be that bad or…

lucallemant: IT’S ELIOTT, OKAY? MY NEW BODYGUARD IS FUCKING HOT ELIOTT

monvoisintuturo: wait

basile_simple: wait a fucking second

y4z4s: you’re kidding us, right?

basile_simple: are we… talking about the same Eliott here? disco eliott? dorky dance move Eliott?

lucallemant: disco eliott, dorky dance move eliott. BODYGUARD ELIOTT

monvoisintuturo: no fucking way

basile_simple: okay guys

y4z4s: I’m—

basile_simple: this is THE FUNNIEST THING I’VE EVER HEARD IN MY ENTIRE LIFE I’M ON THE FUCKING FLOOR BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

lucallemant: shut the fuck up, basile

monvoisintuturo: okay but you have to admit that this is REALLY fucking funny

lucallemant: this is not funny, this is a DISASTER

y4z4s: a funny disaster *cough*

lucallemant: blocked, all of you

basile_simple: I JUST IMAGINE THEM LIKE: HEY WE NEARLY MADE OUT BUT NOW I’M YOUR BODYGUARD HOW YOU DOIN’ BOY HAAHAHAHAHAHAH

lucallemant: I hate you all. Every single one of you

monvoisintuturo: and now?

basile_simple: AND WE THOUGHT OLD AND RUSTY WOULD BE TERRIBLE AHAHABAHAHAH

lucallemant: what ‘and now’?

y4z4s: what are you going to do now?

lucallemant: he is pretending like none of the things happened yesterday night so I will do the same

basile_simple: okay okay I calmed down hahahahahaa but elu should RISE

lucallemant: wtf basile

basile_simple: elu. your ship name. eliott and lucas

lucallemant: I’m a prince but I’m not dumb

monvoisintuturo: so you are… what? just going about your life with him as your bodyguard?

lucallemant: what else should I do?

y4z4s: oh boy

basile_simple: you are definitely so fucked.

lucallemant: tell me something I didn’t know already.

#oh damn #some big big tension going on here #and some boysquad chat love #skam france #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #skam france fanfic #skam france fanfiction #elu fic #elu fanfic #elucrownfanfiction

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omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts · 5 years

Text

You Don’t Own Me...

Pairing: Erik Killmonger x Wakandan! Reader

Summary: After your own family was recently murdered by Klaue, you’re taken in by the royals and begin to live in the palace, making you close friends to T’Challa and Shuri. Erik is a guest in the palace as well, after making amends with T’Challa, ultimately saving his life, but the man decides to make yours considerably harder, teasing and messing with you all hours of the day with the occasional passing flirtation. So when you catch him training in the private gym set aside for sparring and sit down to braid his hair for him, T’Challa’s wedding to Nakia that same night, where Erik can’t keep his hands to himself, and an elevator you both get into alone, things take a delightful turn.

A/N: so my baby is not dead cause he is way too pretty to die, and I’ve been wanting to write this for awhile because he’s beautiful and just *sighs* we love him (I’ve been sick and I watched Black Panther twice in that small span of time it was magical), I hope you enjoy it I loved writing it cause damn that stare tho I adore your feedback btw!! (it’s so long wow) I asked so you all shall receive! Here are a few that commented:

@cocoaflowerrs @harleycativy @honeytoffee @chaneajoyyy @mydemons-aremy-friends @thehomierobbstark @lifelover4u @wrtngnght @bitemyxxx @bakerstreethound

Warnings: FLUFF, mild swearing, so many feels, sexual tension to the max, a punch is thrown, heavy kissing

The long, floral bridesmaid dress your best friend, Shuri, had made for you trails ethereally behind your figure, it’s simple and seductive, cinched at the waist before flowing outward. She made it to be practical as well as still being able to fight in it, slits down your toned, brown legs for you to walk easily without tripping over the long fabric. You step lightly through the palace halls in sandals, tied up to your calf, smiling to the guards when you pass by them. You find the lab where your sister and brother are arguing, T’Challa groaning loudly in frustration when Shuri points at his toes rather aggressively.

“I might be a troublemaker, but at least I moisturize my skin!” she gestures to his arm, pulling up his sleeve. “So damn ashy, brother!”

He swats her hand away, “I am a king, forgive me if I don’t have time for a personal spa day-”

“How are you expected to take care of a kingdom when you can’t even take care of your skin?” Shuri says, unable to get it all out through the giggles, pointing to his ankles.

“Oh, you wish to go there?”

“What are we yelling about?” you ask, tilting your head curiously when both of their attentions whip towards you. “You didn’t do what I think you did, Shuri...” you warn, giving your best friend a knowing glance.

She stifles a laugh when she holds up her tablet, “Oh... but I did.”

She presses play to the video of that faithful incident of T’Challa being thrown across the room after testing out his new suit’s kinetic energy distribution. That happened months ago and around the time you first arrived here, but it never fails to bring a grin to light up your face, you bite down on your bottom lip to hold in the fit of giggles threatening to surface.

“She showed it to Nakia!” he throws his hands up in aggravation and glares at Shuri. “I am never going to live this down, you know that? That video will haunt me until the day I join the ancestors.”

“Well... I hope your fiance found it as amusing as we do,” your lips quirk in the corners, moving to leave the room. “Hopefully as Queen, her sense of humor can help improve your own.” Your frustrated friend glowers at you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” T’Challa looks you over, giving you the parental stare he learned from his mother. “The wedding is in only a few hours. You have things to do.”

You furrow your brow, “I’m not the one getting married, bridezilla, all I have to do is show up.”

“You’re the maid of honor. There is more to your role than just showing up. You know how important this is to me, y/n, and to Nakia,” he pleads with his forehead wrinkled in that worrisome way, guilt-tripping you into complying. You roll your eyes with a sigh.

“I’m just going to go to the training room, it’s the only time I get a moment to myself, I won’t be long,” you tell him softly. “Does that please you enough, your Highness?” you mock, hand curled around the doorway.

“Fine, but Erik is in there already,” he warns. “I wouldn’t bother him.”

“You offend me, T’Challa,” you scoff. “He talks a big game, but the boy is harmless.”

“She only says that because she wants to have his kids,” Shuri smirks. “Oh, Erik! Take me now,” she presses the back of her hand against her forehead, tilting her head back dramatically. “You love him like those women in the American soap operas, like Rosy and Julio!”

“You mean Romeo and Juliet?” you correct with a small smile, despite the burning of your cheeks at the thought of Erik in that way. She wasn’t wrong.

“Whatever,” she waves you off. “Just use contraceptives...”

“Shuri!” T’Challa scolds while you make your swift exit, laughing at your best friend’s odd, theatrical antics.

You walk down to the training room, Erik’s strenuous grunts echoing off the gym’s walls, the sound of cloth wrapped flesh slamming into a punching bag. You enter the room quietly and watch as he moves graceful, animalistic, he holds power in his hands and demands the attention of the room without having to ask. His shirt is off, great, and you can’t concentrate on where to look, at the low hanging, deep gray sweatpants, barely clinging to his defined hips or his muscular, Greek god like torso and chest, littered with small marks and scars. His black dreads were out because he didn’t bother to tie them up, knowing they would have slipped out anyway, hanging over his predatory eyes.

He hears sudden movement behind him, looking you in the eye when he catches you in the room with him. He was bred as a soldier to hear small noises, to notice everything, and to keep his emotions in check at all times, to keep a neutral expression in the face of an enemy. But you aren’t an enemy. So he cracks a half smile, unwrapping the white cloth from his calloused hands. His eyes wash over your figure in that dress and he holds back a growl, catching his bottom lip between his teeth.

He hums lowly, drinking you in, “You look damn good, princess.”

“Always the charmer, Erik,” you roll your eyes, afraid you’ve pulled something from how far they went back. Your eyes trail over him and he sees it, holding your gaze.

“Hey, sweetheart... I’m not the one that wants to have my kids,” he smirks, amusement glinting in his brown eyes. Shit. “But with you as the momma, you know they’d be beautiful.” You grow flustered at the compliment.

“You heard that?” you blow out a cool breath of air, wetting your lips anxiously. He watches the action with an unreadable expression, flashing that stupid and damned, attractive smile, rows of perfect, ivory teeth, the few gold ones glinting in the afternoon sun pouring in through the windows.

“Yeah... and Shuri, for someone as wicked smart as her, doesn’t know shit about American television. Romeo and Juliet was Shakespeare, not a soap opera,” he chuckles deeply, the masculine melody rumbling from his chest.

“The only reason I know anything about it is from sneaking into the father’s library at night, but that was a long time ago...” you tuck a curl behind your ear at the bittersweet memory of your family and he continues to listen without interrupting because he could relate to your struggle. “Shuri tells me that she finds it predictable and far too boring for her taste, she enjoys nonfiction and scientific journals, but I thought American books were... cute. Something about predictability in romantic literature is comforting.”

“So, you’re a romantic?” he arches a dark eyebrow, intrigued. “You should try reading Fifty Shades...” he teases.

“Nice try, but I’ve already read it,” you surprise him. “It lacked chemistry and tension. But the sex was... interesting,” you let out a fluttering laugh, the innocence in your voice rivaling the way you look over him.

“Let me know if you want someone to act it out with, gorgeous,” he crosses the room, eyes fixed on you, before he takes your chin between his fingers, knocking your jaw up. He unconsciously snarls his canines when he studies you. It’s got to be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Yeah, that sounds fun, you think M’Baku would be interested?” you pinch your brow, messing with him, challenging his stare with a daring one of your own.

“Don’t play with me, princess,” he shakes his head, husked voice dripping with warning.

You look at his sweat ridden, umber skin, his dreads going every which way. You reach out and take one between your fingers, brushing it out of his face while he analyzes your movements.

“Your hair is a mess, N'Jadaka,” you tell him. No one ever calls him by that anymore, if they did he’d probably make them regret doing so, but not with you, he wants you to say it again.

He licks his plump, pink tinged lips, “You gotta solution, beautiful?”

“As a matter of fact, I do, smart ass,” you slit your eyes, rolling your eyes for what seems like the umpteenth time today. “Sit down.”

“Yes m’am,” he smirks, doing as you say, sitting cross legged on the sparring mat below you both. You get on your knees behind him and take his individual dreads in your grasp, parting them into four sections at the top of his head.

He winces when you pull harshly, “If you fuck up my hair, princess-”

“You’re not going to do anything. Your precious hair will be fine, I’m fixing it,” you explain, loosening your grip slightly, gentle when you take three pieces at a time and braid it down his head to where it naturally ends.

“You’re hot when your bossy,” he muses and you tug at his hair in retaliation, earning a pained groan from him. “Watch it,” he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I’m the one with the power here, baby,” you tell the man child, wiping sweat from your brow at the concentration. “You need to be watching it.”

You guide him to lay his head in your lap as you sit down completely, halfway done now. He looks up at your face while you’re focusing intently on doing his braids, watching the way you bite your bottom lip, eyes set on the task in front of you, and nose scrunched in the most adorable way possible. He could look at you all day, he thinks, just like this. His taut back against your thick thighs wasn’t helping anyone either, feeling the ridges of his muscles and scar incisions on your bare skin through the sheer dress. He takes the bold risk of running his hand up your leg while he lays there, the sinful idea of you clenching around his fingers flashing in his mind, his warm, heated touch on your silk skin overpowering your good sense to stay away from him and his trouble. Your breath catches.

“Go any further, Killmonger, and I rip out a dread.”

He exhales a small laugh, putting his hands up in surrender when you get to the last step, almost finished, tying them all off with rubber bands he has, luckily, in his pockets. Thank God, you think, you didn’t know how much more of this you could take.

“Easy, momma... I was only playing,” he winks up from where he lays in front of you. “Don’t act like you didn’t like it. I know when you’re lying to me.”

You roll your eyes, but this time it’s paired with a small curl of your lips, tapping his broad shoulder, signalling for him to get off of you. “I’m done, you big baby.”

He grunts when he stands up and checks himself out in the mirror before him, hand gliding over his done hair, and he grins, dimples on display. It’s one of his rare, genuine smiles that only grace the outside world when your presence is known, mostly a result of something you do or say. Not that you know that.

“You did good, princess,” he looks at you, impressed. “I’m coming back to you again, get ready.”

“I’ll have to charge you the next time,” you fold your arms over your chest. “This was just a free trial.”

He chuckles darkly, cocking his head to the side, “What do you want in return?”

You. It almost slips from your lips, but you catch yourself just in time when there’s a knock by the doorway. T’Challa.

“T’Challa...” you throw him a look over your shoulder. “Don’t you have things to do?”

He looks between you and a shirtless Erik, his eyes widening slightly at the possibilities of what you two could have been doing, “I took a break, you were taking longer than you said you would.”

“I didn’t give you a set time,” you slit your eyes.

“You implied that it wouldn’t be long, you’ve been gone for more than thirty minutes.” He finally notices Erik’s new hair and compliments him, “Your hair looks nice, Erik.”

“You can thank your little friend for that,” he nods in your direction, eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than he thinks he should before your gazes break.

“So that’s what you’ve been doing?” T’Challa looks amused when he smiles at you, interested. “Playing hairdresser with a half naked Erik?” Erik is enjoying this more than he should.

“If I go with you to go help Nakia get ready, will you get off my back?” you ask, walking past him.

“Not entirely, but that’s a start,” T’Challa laughs, looking at Erik one more time. “Put on some clothes, Erik, you’re my best man, you need to get ready.”

“I thought white boy was going to walk with you?” he asks with a chuckle.

“Everett will too,” he rolls his eyes, waving him off. “He’s oddly excited about all of this.”

“The whole nation is excited, T’Challa, it’s not like your feelings for her have been a secret, my friend,” you gesture for him to come on already. “So hurry up or I’ll get Shuri to show Erik the video, too.”

“You wouldn’t,” T’Challa walks out after you.

“Wouldn’t I?” you dare your brother with a small, conniving smile.

“What video?” Erik calls after you.

You peek your head back in through the door frame and mouth, Later, eyes glittering mischievously.

~~~

The traditional, Wakandan, wedding ballad began to play elegantly and you look over at your nervous, best friend, adjusting his blazer. He catches your worried gaze and you smile softly, calming him. He reaches for your hand and you take it in your grasp, raising your hand to hold the side of his face. It makes you so unbelievably happy, seeing him marry the love of his life, an occasion you and dozens of other people have been awaiting. He squeezes your hand affectionately before dropping it, letting you return back to your place. The silent affirmation meaning the world to him.

You look over at Erik, his hand resting on T’Challa’s shoulder in a brotherly fashion. You glance over his black and white tux, it’s unlike him, being so dressed up, but it’s a good look for him. Really good, you think. It flatters his broad shoulders and muscular build nicely, and he grabs your stare in mid-air, smiling slightly. He shoots you a wink when no one else is looking and you look down at your flowers, hiding your burning face.

Shuri stands by your side, head leaning on your shoulder as she gets bored of the festivities.

“Glory to Bast, y/n, stop drooling over Erik... I’m going to be sick,” Shuri yawns. “How much longer will this be?”

You roll your eyes, “It hasn’t even begun,” you whisper as everyone sits up in the aisles, set up voluntarily by the villagers and children, and Shuri herself, of course.

The aisles were riddled with stargazer lilies, Nakia’s favorite flower, placed intricately and their vines wrapped, worn into the redwood. The ceremony is set in the room with the garden of the heart shaped herb, glowing luminescent and bright purple.

The ring bearers are the first to walk in, a few of the village boys and girls, some tossing pink rose petals on the ground, the rest fighting to hold onto the pillow where the rings rest atop. The guests laugh at the children, Erik walks down to kneel to their level with an adorably wide smile, making silly faces to make them giggle. Your heart warms at the sight. One of the little girls hands him the rings, along with a flower she places tenderly behind his ear, he mutters a small, sweet thank you, almost blushing. T’Challa even cracks a smile, tears beginning to brim his eyes, at the cute exchange. You find yourself doing the same.

Nakia finally steps out of the small entrance, everyone rising from their seats, her mother and father on either side of her. T’Challa freezes on sight when he sees her, Okoye, Shuri, and you notice this with moved smiles, all close to tears yourself. Nakia wears a long, emerald dress, breaking the white gown stereotype, she wanted to be different, she told you. And she looks stunning, gold detailing sewn into the green fabric, off the shoulder and draping behind her, her deep, sienna skin glowing gorgeously amidst the moonlight and green in her dress. T’Challa’s tears, once at bay, come rolling down his cheeks, his chest rising and falling.

He mutters a small I love you to her when she joins him on the stage and she smiles widely, beautifully, whispering that she loves him too. Her hand holds the side of his tear stricken face and she wipes one off his cheek with the pad of her thumbs, leaning forward to angel kiss both his eyelids.

“Hey! No kissing yet!” Shuri interrupts the tender moment, T’Challa glaring daggers at her while Nakia only chuckles, giving the people a good laugh, including yourself and Okoye, all wearing matching dresses.

The ceremony goes on as smoothly and emotionally as planned. Mid-vows, there are hot tears falling down your face, but you wipe them away, not wanting to take the attention from them. Erik, however, saw the action before you could hide it all the way, locking eyes with you from across the room, both of you opposite to each other with the loving couple between you.

His lips quirk, You alright?

You nod, smiling softly, and he returns it, his hard features softening when you look at him long enough.

You look beautiful.

You don’t know how you catch the silent words leaving his mouth, but you do, growing flustered immediately and smiling so wide it makes your cheeks hurt. You wish you could see this side of Erik more often, the sensitive, sweet one, the Erik that isn’t afraid to show how he feels.

But, before you know it, the officiant says, “Now you may kiss the bride!”

Nakia takes by the front of his blazer before he can think, bringing his lips to hers with fervor and passion. He cradles her face in his hands and dips her down as the crowd rejoices, Shuri making a show of showing blatant disgust. You slap her shoulder, laughing with one another when Okoye reprimands you both.

T’Challa and Nakia walk hand in hand down the aisle, everyone following them back to the palace for the reception with dancing, music, food, and drinks. You clutch the bouquet of lilies in your grasp, slowing your pace when Erik moves to walk by your side, stepping in time with you.

“That was so sweet,” you look at him as you both walk, glancing at the flower still behind his ear. “What you did with those kids...”

“What? The flower’s nice... and I didn’t want to say no,” he plays it off. “That’s all.”

“Mmhm,” you look down when you walk, smiling at the ground, unconvinced. “You know it’s okay to be nice every once in awhile, even you could spare to show your softer side, Erik Killmonger.” He regards you coldly, but your words have a way of melting that icy exterior of his.

“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes, still trying to keep the tough guy act but you see right through it when he looks at you from the corner of his eye, the ghost of a smile on his lips when you two arrive at the palace’s reception.

“Hold up,” he says to you and you stop, turning to him. He takes the flower out from behind his ear and places it gingerly behind yours, your curls keeping it in place. His fingers brush the skin of your cheek when he does so and your eyes lock, pulling back before he clears his throat. “It looks better on you, anyway, princess.” You smile softly, his touch lighting your skin on fire.

T’Challa and Nakia have already begun their first dance as a married couple, swaying her around the makeshift dance floor like a leaf in the Wakandan spring wind, it’s hard to keep your eyes off of them. Okoye and Shuri stand off to the side, stuffing their faces with assortments of food being served. Then Nakia makes eyes at you and Erik when her and T’Challa begin to slow dance, you and him standing side by side like that, hands brushing ever so softly. She nods towards him, raising her eyebrows in a silent command for you two to get over it and dance together. You slit your eyes. Erik notices this small, wordless conversation and smirks softly, glancing at you.

After debating and looking at you for a moment or two, wondering what to say, he interrupts your mile a minute thoughts, holding out his hand, “Dance with me?” he asks, almost daring you to accept his invitation. How could you say no to that?

You look to his hand then to his eyes and back again, heart beating considerably faster, and you take his hand cautiously, “Sure...”

His calloused hand grasps yours, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I don’t bite,” he says, pulling you onto the dance floor and into his hard chest, other hand on the curve of your back, lips curved maliciously by your ear when he whispers, “Unless you want me too.” You laugh at that.

You keep a distance, only an inch away from each other faces that seems to diminish whenever you share a breath of air, standing still in time when he twirls you.

“Where’d you learn to dance like this?” your voice is light, barely above a whisper when you speak, hoping to keep this little bubble you two have created.

“My pop,” he smiles, but it’s bittersweet, not quite hitting his eyes. “He said you’re never gonna get a lady if you don’t know how to dance with one. That and cooking is the way to a girl’s heart...”

“Your father sounds like a smart man,” you meet his sad eyes and they flicker slightly, like that flame in his stare he takes pride in slowly blowing out the longer you look, simmering his fear. You understood him, how it felt to lose your family like that, and he knew that.

“He was.”

“So are you,” you tell him, taking both of your arms and wrapping them around his neck, staggering the man for a moment before he in turns wraps his own around your waist, warmly bringing you closer. “When you want to be,” you joke.

His lips turn up in the corners, letting out a small laugh, "Thanks, gorgeous.”

You lay your head on his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent of clean sheets and spices, a smell you can only classify as Erik, and his breathing slows.

“You’re so tense...” you tell him, hands moving to rest against his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat against your palm when he wraps his large arms around you.

He chuckles darkly, catching your wrist in your hand when you begin to trail your fingers down his torso. “I think you know why.”

“I’m not sure I do,” you say, fingers threading together behind his head, brushing the skin of his neck. “Enlighten me.”

The lights in the palace room go off and the person manning the music decides to turn on the deep blue and purple flashing lights, everyone coupling up with close friends and lovers. Erik’s grip on your waist tightens when some of the men make eyes at you, about to ask for you to dance, but upon seeing his possessive, threatening gaze, they think better of it. A slower, more sensual song plays, after someone requested to play more American songs, the DJ of sorts happily obliging.

He leans down to whisper to you, “Do you still want to dance, beautiful?”

“Mm, do I have much of a choice?” you tilt your chin up, beginning to sway with the music that’s playing, his hands never leaving your waist while his dark eyes trail over your dips and curves.

Your bodies move languidly with one another in the dark, your hips dancing to their own accord, and your back curves in that delectable way Erik can’t get enough of, turning yourself around to move against where you need him most. His hands slide down to grip your sides, knowing exactly what you’re trying to do.

“You’re a damn tease, y/n,” he bites by your ear, the deep laugh that leaves him vibrating through your body when he presses up against you, forcing you to feel every inch of him. Enough to feel him grow hard against your backside, so you move back, curls moving with the smooth and sexy movements of your body, hands sliding down his front, and spinning yourself around, leaning close enough to him so your noses touch.

Your eyes make a show of flicking up to finally meet his, “Am I?”

But before he can answer, opening his mouth to retaliate, close enough that you could lean in if you wanted to, a stranger’s large hand falls to your waist, pulling you into someone. You turn around and see a man you don’t recognize, just some drunk looking for a good time that he wasn’t going to get from you.

“Mm, you must be the new girl here... You’re even more lovely in person,” the man whispers by your ear, alcohol heavy on his breath and sweat on his skin, a sickening combination. “Wanna go somewhere a little quieter?” His hands going lower the longer he speaks.

“No... thank you,” you say, struggling to get the words out, but he doesn’t budge. You try to move from his grasp then Erik is walking toward him, pulling you from his grasp and setting you aside.

“Is that how you treat a lady? Grabbing her from behind and thinking she’s yours to keep?” he gets face to face with him, looming over the stranger by a few inches, eyes blazing in the dark.

“Back off, boy, I know how to treat a woman just fine,” he slurs. “You’re just jealous that I made a move before you did... maybe she finally wants a real man-”

Erik starts seeing red and before you can stop him, he’s knocking his fist into the man’s face, sending him tumbling to the ground with a loud bang when he hits the floor.

Shuri is by your side at once after seeing what happened, sending guards over to take the man out, pulling him by the arms inconspicuously out the doors while everyone is occupied.

Shuri’s hand clasps on your arm to get your attention. Your best friend looks at you with worried eyes, “Are you alright? We’re escorting the man off the premises now, and he won’t be bothering anyone else... Because if he had stayed behind, you know my hands would have been-”

You nod with a small smile, comforting your close friend with a small squeeze to her hand, letting her know you’ll be fine, “I’m okay, Shuri.” She breathes a sigh of relief. “We’ll tell T’Challa another time, we don’t need to make a scene,” you tell her. “This is his big day and I don’t want to upset him.”

She nods in understanding, “And Erik?” she looks to the man, trying to keep his composure, thinking that she’ll reprimand him for using violence, but she moves to embrace him. He’s taken back for a second before patting her back awkwardly, wrapping one arm around her small frame. “Thank you for saving my best friend.”

“No.. uh, no problem,” he stammers out, not expecting the hug.

She turns to you. “Why don’t you take a walk... go get some space from everyone? T’Challa will understand.”

You nod, knowing that’s the best for you right now, the crowd getting more and more suffocating by the second.

“I’m coming with,” he insists. “You don’t need to be alone right now.”

“Erik,” you look at him, hoping to keep a serious expression. “I don’t need anyone with me, I’ll be okay, promise.” Shuri wiggles her eyebrows at you before walking off, leaving the two of you by yourselves once again. You’d get her back for that.

He looks you over, “This isn’t up for negotiation, princess.” He holds out his hand for you and you take it, hesitant, his large, calloused hand encompassing yours.

Then he’s walking through the crowd, pulling you gently along with him, navigating between the guests. He wastes no time in getting to the doors that lead back to the palace’s bedrooms, the royal, gold encrusted elevator awaiting on the bottom floor. He drops your hand and you immediately find yourself missing the warmth, walking alongside him to the elevator where the up button flashes bright yellow. He silently leads you into the elevator when the silver doors finally open, closing behind you two.

You stand with your back against the elevator wall, mirror behind you, with your hands gripping the metal bar behind you. “Thank you...” you say, your voice quieter than you intend it to be, a fluttering phrase that makes him turn around to look at you.

“I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing,” he tilts his head slightly, concern deeply embedded in his chocolate eyes, studying your face.

“Sure, but I could’ve handled it myself, too, you know,” you meet his eyes boldly and his lips quirk at the edges, taking a step towards you. “If you hadn’t have stepped in.”

He squares his shoulders, slitting his brown eyes, towering over you with a small laugh that brings out his dimples, “I’m sure you could have, beautiful.”

Your head hits the wall, and you realize neither of you has pressed the floor button, sitting still in this vacant space, just the two of you, “Then why’d you do it?”

He’s chest to chest with you now, hands on either side of your head, caging you in like a predator stalking prey, “Do what?”

“Hit him... let him get to you like that...”

“He put his hands on you, baby,” his chest rises and falls, the fire returning to his stormy, dark gaze, the new pet name he’s given you sending your heart into sudden turmoil, unreadable on your face. “I...” he struggles to get the words out. He sounds so vulnerable, almost emotional when he tries to speak, and it breaks your heart. “I couldn’t let him hurt you-”

Without thinking, you step up on the tips of your toes, leaning close enough to kiss him, but missing, lips pressing against the corner of his plump lips, just as soft as you imagined them to be. His face heats up under your lips even after you break away, locking eyes with him, noticing how his have become much darker, glazed over with lust, deep brown consumed in onyx.

His eyes fall over you hungrily, sneering his canines, flicking from your slightly parted lips to your eyes, finding desire in your y/e/c irises, “You shouldn’t have done that, princess...”

He tilts his head down, sending his lips to crash feverishly against your own, sending you into the elevator wall. Your eyes flutter close at the overwhelming sensation, Erik kissing you, you never thought you’d see the day. He kisses you slowly, completely, and wantonly, taking his time in moving his lips against yours. Damn, he’s wanted this for so long, you, him. His lips made for yours and yours made for his, bodies molded into one another. You move to grip those beautiful braids of hair, fingers in the dips and intricate patterns, making him groan, tugging him closer to you until you both are flushed together, not a single breath between you. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, gently biting when he catches it between his teeth, eliciting small mewls to fall from your lips, exciting him, a puddle melted into his large hands. You’ve become his for the taking.

His hands slide under your ass, lips never leaving yours, gripping your thick thighs forcefully through your sheer dress, and pulling you up to guide your legs around his built torso, pressing you further into the walls that hold you both. He nips at the soft, brown skin of your neck, marking your neck with his teeth and mouth, lightly circling the spot with his cooling tongue to ease the bite, and you revel in it, legs tightening around him.

Your hands find either side of his face when you break away to catch your breath, leaning your forehead against his, his shallow breath fanning your face, lips brushing ever so softly, wishing to meet again.

“Shit, baby...” he kisses the curve of jaw, burying his face in your shoulder with a soft laugh. “If I had known...”

“Known what?” you breathe a laugh, kissing both of his dimples, making his smile widen.

He presses his lips by your ear and chuckles, “That you actually wanna have my kids...” Dammit, Shuri.

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