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ghoulish-art-tendencies · 1 month

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Opinions about the movie it: Specifically, about Richie and Eddie and their whole deal. and How they defeat Pennywise the first time.

Also have you read the book?

SPOILERS AHEAD, in can you could not have guessed.

Okay so IT. IT is one of my top 3 movies of all time (if not all time) in which I watched it about 5 times in a week when I first got into it. (I also have not read the book yet but I have been planning on it for a while, just need to get my hands on it.) I really enjoyed it personally, and I don't think it is that scary anymore, but I was originally scared shitless the first time I tried to watch it years ago when I was not into horror yet. Even though it was made in 2017, it still has that 80s horror feel to it that I love, and I love the dynamic between the group of 7 in the first movie.

Now buckle up, because I am about to go full on special interest on this ask and yap about its inherent queerness and how it affects the story line and how it could've been used more.

Richie, Eddie, and the inherent queerness between the two. It was very clear that Richie, if not Eddie as well, were very much implied to be interested in each other.

But more specifically Richie. I honestly wish they did more with them, but it was very clear that they were a duo; a pair within the original group of 4. Putting it out now: I have not actually seen IT Chapter 2 all the way through as I kept crying over Stanley's death, and I honestly was extremely disappointed in how they handled the film as a whole, and the decline in quality. So, my information may not be entirely correct, but in the end of IT chapter 2, we see a clip of Richie carving he and Eddie's initials into the bridge. As well as I believe when Eddie dies later in the film, Richie tries to go back to get his body/doesn't want to leave him behind. Richie was obviously head over heels for him from the start to finish, and you could tell. From the constant bickering; teasing; borderline obsession that he had for Eddie. In the book, I believe Richie would also call Eddie "Eddie Spaghetti" multiple times, don't quote me though. All of this to say, Richie loved Eddie. A LOT. To the point that in the second movie Richie was out as gay but STILL hadn't found a lover, whilst we see both Stanley, Bill, and Eddie married, as well with Beverly with a boyfriend (in the beginning of the film, at least). I am not saying that some of these relationships are healthy by any means (especially Eddie's which I will explain soon), but it goes to show that many of the people from the core 7 found relationships, and yet Richie did not.

Now Eddie is slightly more complicated, as all throughout IT we see the toxic relationship between his mother, and how she gaslit him into believing he was sick all the time. This would then later end up with him marrying someone else very similar to his mother who treated him very much the same. Then, at the end where he ends up dying, it ends very tragically where his whole life he had to live with people being very controlling over him and him never getting to experience that freedom he deserved. I bring this up because in IT, we see near the end where Eddie is told that his medication are placebos, and he tells his mother he's tired of her trying to keep him away from his friends. He realised there that he was happier and more free when he was with his friends, and (though not said) specifically Richie as well in my opinion. Richie was unabashedly himself, and wasn't afraid to be weird with his friends. I know it is strongly theorised that Richie is ADHD as well, which could also play a part. All the while both Stan and Bill are more reserved in my opinion, both as Bill was self-conscious because of his stutter, and Stanley being bullied for being jewish (both of which we see happen in the beginning of IT). Eddie felt more comfortable around his friends, and specifically Richie because he truly did not care enough about acting weird. Though I believe it is never actually shown that Eddie had a romantic interest in Richie, I strongly believe it could've been something if the writers allowed it.

Now, Eddie and Richie's interactions with each other (in the first movie, because as I have said I have not seen enough of the second movie to speak on it much). Many times, we see specifically Richie and Eddie interacting. To be honest, they are probably the 2 people we see interacting the most throughout the entire movie. One scene I want to bring up specifically, which took me multiple watches to catch, is that at I believe the Derry festival, Richie comes back with 2 ice cream cones, and gives one to Eddie. Now, whether Eddie had directly asked him to get him a cone, or Richie just buying it for him, I think it shows just how much Richie did care about him. I think it shows a little bit of how they interact with each other when we don't see them (on camera). And sure, you can buy ice cream for your friends, but would you not also either ask if anyone else wanted one? You could make the argument that he couldn't carry it but it doesn't disprove the fact Richie specifically bought ice cream for Eddie, which shows how he cared for him.

Richie and Eddie are also constantly bickering back and forth. From when Eddie is trying to help Ben after getting stabbed and him telling Richie to shut up with the silly voices, or in the sewer scene where Richie constantly bickers to Eddie about him being afraid to enter. You can obviously see Richie being the comedic relief, but always more-so to Eddie. To me, I interpret this as him seeing that Eddie is almost always on edge, and trying to distract him to make sure he's happier. And while we do see Eddie get annoyed at Richie, I don't think we ever truly saw him get angry at him or be upset, other than slightly annoyed or exasperated.

I know l am yapping, but to answer your next question about how they defeated pennywise the first time, I think Richie and Eddie's relationship still play a fairly large role. They learn that in order to defeat Pennywise, they have to stop being afraid. We see Richie constantly worry about Eddie when in the house, and basically stuck to his side. In the scene where they are in Bill's garage and watching the projector, when Pennywise shows up on it, we see in the background Richie grabbing onto Eddie, and Eddie grabbing onto him. In a moment of fear, they automatically reached towards each other. This to me they they feel most safe when they are together/close. This makes me think that Richie was really the one that helped Eddie be brave enough to face Pennywise and defeat him. While I think Richie was able to be brave enough to defeat Pennywise because he not only cares about the group but also wanted to keep Eddie safe.

All of this to say; Richie and Eddie were very much implied to be queer (in the movies); even more-so when Richie was confirmed to be gay in the second movie. I really wish that we got to see Richie and Eddie get together to not only have that queer representation, but because I honestly think it would have been a healthy relationship, like it was in the beginning. Richie constantly distracting and teasing Eddie; then comforting each other in times of fear; doing little things for the other. They both cared about each other a lot and I am truly disappointed on the fact we never got to see a happy ending for Eddie, where after years of being in an abusive relationship where Eddie is made to be dependent on the people that are supposed to be your most trusted, he just, dies. We never get to see him get out of those relationships and find someone better (AKA Richie). I truly think the story of Richie and Eddie after IT Chapter 2 could have been its own movie or mini series/book (even though it wouldn't have been). To see Richie be in contact with Eddie again and maybe help him realise he's in an abusive relationship and help him get out of it. At that point it doesn't when have to be romantic but just a deep and intense love for wanting the other to be happy. It would have made a great ending of 2 characters finally finding happiness in each other again after years of struggling.

So there. You asked about my opinion of IT and here it is. This took me like an hour as I immediately started writing after getting this ask, but I enjoyed it. It's nice to finally put my thoughts on this movie into a (hopefully) coherent analysis. Even if like 1 person reads this lol I am happy I got the opportunity to yap about my all time favourite movie. :D Thanks for the ask, and again, sorry about the excessive yapping.

#IT #it chapter one #it the movie #it movie #it chapter 2 #it chapter two #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #analysis #long reads #long post #yapping #queer analysis #queer #movie analysis #asks #answered asks #yapyapyap

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bellafragolina · 2 years

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oooo laventon’s family….

ngl i haven’t thought too much about that but i like to imagine he has at least one sister (who, assuming ur female/femme presenting, he calls on to help you find some appropriate clothing to wear in 1890s galar — somehow i don’t think the loose fitting japanese style clothing you’re used to in hisui would necessarily fly in what’s basically late victorian england, but also i’m a sucker for historical fashion and makeovers so i personally would just want an excuse to change clothes in a new country hahaha)

i assume he’s on good terms with his family, maybe his parents are academics themselves? one of them might make a living as a university lecturer perhaps? they’re probably more outwardly serious than lav himself, but they’re non judgemental and full of curiosity — traits he’s inherited :))

they know you’d be arriving with lav as he wrote to them in advance, but once you do meet i feel they’d pretty quickly go from polite greetings to borderline interrogating you about your experience handling pokemon, not without thanking you for assisting their son in his work, of course. they’re very proud of lav for creating the pokedex.

actually come to think of it, he probably would come from a big family with at least 3 or 4 siblings? all adults and probably married w families of their own too — lav is like the second eldest and is (gently) teased by the others for being the last one still in the singles market despite his pleasant nature due to his devotion to his work. they love him really, he may be clumsy but he was always like the problem solver of the family, cheering people up when they’re down or when they were younger, helping with schoolwork. he adores his nieces and nephews and will spoil them rotten given half the chance

his siblings almost don’t believe it when his most recent letter announces he’d be bringing home a significant other he met in hisui and at least 2 of them pull him aside as soon as possible to figure out if/when he plans on catching an applin for you (i have an idea for that actually…..)

idk how cohesive this is but what do you think his family would be like?

— aster anon

Ahh I love it

I imagine the fam is like Lav, friendly and curious, just with different areas of interest. It’s a large family and everyone has areas of study that they know a lot about, from botany to knitting to engineering.

But they’re all teasing in their own way. Wit begets the ability to read a bitch to filth, as they say. And Lav’s family is no exception. They’ll go kinda easy on you until you show you can take, or better yet, dish it back.

Lav is the center of their attention, because like you said, he’s pretty much the last one of the adults to get a partner. But he’s not going to be unmarried for long, after watching you play and spoil his nieces and nephews. Besides, his family are on his ass about proposing to you after they decide they like you and want you to stay

<3<3<3 i love family dynamics <3<3<3

~Renee

#aster anon #I blow you a kiss #mwah

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lunapwrites · 2 years

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Omg I'm dying with the titles!!! Can I have something from "waiting room"?

Hi hello yes friend! <3 I am fairly certain this is another bit from LTL, but let me check...

OH NO. Ohhhhh this is from a VERY OLD version of the bathtub scene (still Remus POV!), before I ended up reworking a bunch of things. I'll note what changed under a cut, but uh. Here is a small, inoffensive snippet of this one lol

"I can't believe you did this." Dora snorted, squirting different coloured dyes into several small bowls. They'd broken out the good china for this exercise, he'd noticed. "I absolutely can." Sirius sighed dramatically, and Remus was beginning to suspect he'd somehow switched consciousness with his fifth-year self. "I just fancied a change." "Then paint some walls or something, you prat, not…" He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at Sirius' hair, which truly looked horrid. "Eugh, look, no offence, cariad, blond is not your colour." "You don't think it makes me look like my cousin? My dear old mother used to say we had the same cheekbones." He pursed his lips, tapping his cheek with his index finger. He did have lovely cheekbones, but that was rather beside the point. "Probably why she tried to marry me off to her, come to think of it." "Cissy had actual colour to her hair. This is… erm…" "White?" Dora supplied, grinning as though she weren't at least partially responsible. "Well, that's a word for it, isn’t it? Thank you Dora." Sirius scowled; the effect was rather ruined by how ridiculous he looked. Don't laugh, Lupin, you'll just get him all het up again. Whatever made him happy, right?

Right. "I’m never staying blond, ta very much." Dora winked at Remus, then grabbed Sirius' head firmly and turned him so he was looking straight down into his lap. "Too right you're not, now sit still so I can apply this."

OK, so if you want to see the changes...

This was the version where Remus ALSO sat down and let Dora dye his hair (he no longer does this.) Fun fact: this is what my PFP is from lol. I'm still a little sad I lost that bit, but. Oh well. It really wasn't that important.

The hearing never happened in this version, so Sirius was still trying to figure out a legal way to clear his name rather than Remus flinging himself at the situation like an angry cat.

The whole borderline alcoholism angle with Sirius was not addressed yet like it has been in LTL-canon, and the problem was going to be a lot worse. I decided to walk it back a little because he didn't really get the chance to full-on spiral down that particular well like he did in actual-canon.

This version takes place the same night the Weasley kids + Harry show up at Grimmauld Place. I pushed it up earlier in the month instead because it was WAY too messy and honestly I didn't want to put a bunch of anxious teens in the same house as a couple of inebriated adults. As I was writing it out, the discomfort overrode any comic value.

Sirius got to be The Adult In The Room, which... I ended up reworking as a concept into some better/healthier moments, since it's important for his character arc.

The discussion between Remus and Dora re: his past addiction issues was originally going to happen here, and Remus was also going to mentally draw parallels between his past and Sirius' current struggles. I felt it was a little too on the nose.

I had been laying the groundwork for actual UST between Dora and Sirius here, which no longer strictly lines up with where they're headed in LTL.

There was a photograph of Remus with green hair. I will be working this into LTL canon SOMEWHERE, or so help me XD

Remus took paint thinner to Walburga's portrait, and Dora drew a dick on her with a sharpie which she couldn't scream about, owing to no longer having a mouth. While the scene is hilarious, I could not in good conscience keep this as is, and the writing in the dialogue is so genuinely terrible I want to cry lol. (Not like the words they're saying are bad, just I was still in the "need to write the way they sound" mode, and it just isn't a good look, it's going back in the hole forever.)

There's probably some other changes here but yeah, just generally tone and trajectory and pacing and plot alllllll changed from where this was at initially lol.

Thank you for the ask!!

#ask game #responses #giant massive plot rework #deleted scene #the quarantine mood chapter that never was #sirius black #remus lupin #nymphadora tonks #ltl #ot3 #hp #writing #my writing #old writing #definitely didn't ninja-edit so the formatting didn't get confusing.

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mvncesa · 2 years

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thinking about how easy it would be for me to put julian in a flowy white shirt and have his hair all messy while he hangs out on the country side in his witcher verse ….

#( tell me to stop posting ; ooc. )#especially given the fact that it’s borderline his main verse #with how much I think and-or talk about it #I just want julian in a flowy white shirt . lowkey looking like a disney prince .#imagine him trying to (flirt) woo some witchers while dressed like that too #I say that as if he’s not borderline or full on married to at least three witcher muses that my friends write

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laughing-with-god · 3 years

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The Unsaid Vow (Prologue)

Synopsis- You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.

Warnings- Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a four-year-old (I never wrote for a kid before pls gimme a break), also I chose my future son's name for this fic but pls feel free to name him whatever you want :)

Slow burn Yandere Husband Jungkook

Word Count; 5.4k

Unlike the vast majority of married couples, neither you nor Jungkook donned wedding rings.

Never in your five years of marriage did you regret this decision, given it was brought upon by you and your husband’s lack of funds for fancy wedding bands at the time of your rushed marriage.

Well, you were never annoyed....until tonight, that is.

The scene before you was exceptionally intimate, so much so that you felt the instinctual need to look away in respect of the two before you.

The woman was gorgeous, effortlessly attracting all the attention the small conference room had to offer. In addition to this natural charisma spurred on by her borderline enchanting looks, her short and skin-tight red dress showed off her pleasantly curvy body. Her long, silky, and jet-black hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail that provided a simple background for her darling features. Utterly doll-like was her face; petite, creamy in complexion with bright doe eyes and berry-pink lips.

Such a beautiful woman was currently in the arms of an equally, if not more so, attractive man.

He was tall and slender, yet not at all lanky given his sturdy build that was a testament to his strict workout regime. His olive skin was complimented with occasional tattoos, a mix of faded and fresh ink that you knew like the back of your hand despite only the tats on his hand currently showing in his crisp Valentino suit. His mid-length inky black hair was down to frame his sharp face, and indeed it was a very handsome one consisting of full eyebrows, bow-like lips, a fleshy yet impish nose, and two large, yet seemingly bottomless, raven orbs.

This man had his arms encircling the middle of the mysterious woman, her expression lifting into a light-hearted giggle as she leaned forward to whisper something in his ear.

Whatever she said must’ve been amusing to the man, given his usual stoic facade briefly melted away as he allowed a small smile at her words, his pearly round teeth peeking out for a split-second appearance.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that these two were lovers.

But there was only one problem with this scene.

That was your husband, Jungkook.

And that woman in his arms was not you.

As if sensing your distress and wanting to soothe your well-founded suspicion, Jungkook pulled away from the woman and ran his gaze across the room- only stopping when he spotted you. Your spouse then gestured at you, the girl following his line of sight and landing on you and your pitiful spot by the snack table. Her joyful expression briefly dropped for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it second, but she quickly plastered on another grin and nodded. The two then strode their way over to you, barely giving you enough time to steel your nerves and muster a polite purse of the lips.

Before you knew it, the woman was right in front of you with your partner at her side instead of yours. Much to your dismay, she was only more attractive up close, and you narrowly held back a grimace as she held out a hand in introduction. You took it and shook it lifelessly.

“Hello, you must be Mrs. Jeon. I’m Sana, Jungkook’s colleague.” Even her voice was pretty, musical and light to the ears.

“H-Hi, nice to meet you but please call me Y/n.” A brief and awkward pause as Sana briefly sized you up and down. “Um, Jungkook has never mentioned you….” you trailed off, side-eyeing your husband in hopes he would intervene and add context to this random goddess he’s thrust upon you.

Jungkook gracefully took his cue and explained, “Sana transferred from another branch out of the city and has only been with us for five months. I’m her case supervisor and have been taking care of her, showing her the ropes and whatnot.”

Sana didn’t even spare you a glance as she fondly looked up at your husband, coyly biting her lip and saying in a much softer tone that could've been just for his ears only, “And he’s been really good at taking care of me.”

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous stay-at-home wife who obsessed over the tiniest details between her husband and other women, but the double meaning behind her badly-whispered comment was enough to make you splutter in disbelief. However before you could even gather up the courage to ask just what the hell ‘taking care of me’ consisted of, two new faces waltzed up and joined the conversation.

“Are you all enjoying this fabulous Christmas party?” A tall, broad-shouldered but nice-looking man asked in a tone of familiar amicability.

You thankfully smiled up at him, having met him many times before.

His name was Jin, and he was the one who got Jungkook this job.

It occurred about five years ago when you first told Jungkook that you were pregnant. Being the romantic but overall good guy that Jungkook was, he insisted that you two get married so that your child could have parents who were at least husband and wife. In addition it would also lessen the judgment in your two families, which at the time was extremely appealing to you. You had agreed to marry on one condition: after running to the courthouse you two would need to move in together in a decent apartment with a room for the nursery. But getting an apartment would mean month-to-month rent, and Jungkook’s tattooing gigs weren’t stable enough to ensure that.

Jin was originally a friend of Jungkook’s older brother, but when he heard through the grapevine about the issue, he bought Jungkook a couple of suits and offered him a job at the corporation he worked at.

Now Jungkook made more than enough money to support your little family, and it was all because Jin took a chance on a college drop-out and his knocked-up girlfriend.

You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off by the unknown lady beside Jin.

“I’d say a little too much fun if anything. Sana and Jungkook, we get that you're the infamous office couple but maybe tone it down a bit, huh?” She joked while raising her brows at the close proximity between the two.

A long and tortuous silence swept the scene.

Jin glanced at you, pity swimming in his usually carefree eyes.

Not trusting your voice to say anything and desperately wanting to hide your face from the piercing eyes, you distracted yourself by taking calculated sips of watered-down eggnog.

“Daehyun...this is actually Y/n, Jungkook’s wife,” Jin told the lady in an uncomfortable voice.

You didn’t know what stung more, the fact that this stranger thought that there was more chemistry between Sana and your husband than with you, or that it was Jin who corrected this mistake and not Jungkook himself.

“O-Oh, well it’s nice to meet you.” Daehyun awkwardly said to you while avoiding direct eye contact.

You offered a tight smile, “Pleasure.”

Whatever gratitude you could’ve had for Daehyun’s clear embarrassment quickly vanished when the woman went on to continue, “I’m sorry. Jungkook never mentioned being married and he doesn’t wear a ring so I didn’t even know. I bet it must be interesting for his housewife to meet his office wife though, right?”

She laughed, not realizing that she only succeeded in putting a foot in her mouth right before stomping it all over your pesky little heart. The group didn’t seem to share your uneasiness, all three of them politely chuckling along to the lukewarm joke at your expense. Once again, you focused on your dwindling beverage to avoid the burden of speaking or even facing them directly, too scared that your miserable expression would be unanimously inspected.

“Well, we just came over to recruit you all for some karaoke!” Jin cheerfully announced, clearly trying to change the subject, “There’s a machine in the break-out room and it’s more fun to sing with a group.”

“More like you want an audience.” Jungkook wittingly teased, a handsome smirk on his face as Sana playfully scolded him with a push to the chest.

“I’ll take your jabs now Kookie because I know they stem from your insecurity that I can actually upstage you in the vocals department.” Jin rebutted in good nature, even letting your husband’s old nickname slip.

Daehyun and Sana both guffawed at this declaration, exaggerated disbelief present on their faces.

“Jungkook is the best singer in the office. He’ll upstage you without even trying.” Daehyun said in a tenor of utter confidence.

“Only one way to find out!” Jin brushed the comment off, pointing to the direction of the assumed breakout room, “Karaoke anyone?”

The so-called office wife nodded enthusiastically, taking your husband’s arm and looking up at him to plead, “Can we do a duet of that one song we like?”

Jungkook, for the first time in seemingly hours, shot you with a questioning gaze.

Be married to someone for a while and you’ll learn how to decipher what they’re trying to say with just mere looks. Your husband was wordlessly inquiring if you were going to join, if he should go along with the group or if you two should break away and do something else.

The ball was finally in your court.

Not wanting to be rude but needing to get away from these people before you lost your cool, you decided on a subtle excuse.

“I need a refill, but maybe we can meet you all later?” You said, shaking your empty paper cup as if to prove your case.

“Oh, well the drinks are right behind you.” Sana condescendingly pointed out, tightening her hold on your husband and began steering him towards the exit, “We’ll save a seat for you.”

Bewildered, you watched as Jungkook obediently followed her lead with the Daehyun girl trailing behind.

He didn’t even spare you a glance.

You wanted to be angry.

You wanted to storm up to your husband, yank him out of the clutches of his colleagues and practically drag him back home under the premise that he would never speak to Sana ever again.

But instead of a righteous rage fueled by the marital vows you two took, utter exhaustion bestowed upon you and prevented any instigation on your part.

Maybe earlier in your marriage you would’ve fought for his attention, but now you simply just wanted to go home and lick your wounds with the help of a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while self-obsessing over Sana’s outrageous attractiveness. After all, who could blame any hot-blooded man for choosing that goddess over you? What could you possibly do but lean back and accept that she was the obvious choice?

Other than her being a knockout beauty while you were merely average on your best day, she had other qualities that made her a more appealing catch. She was most likely younger than you, obviously fit, more ambitious and professionally driven than you, and presumably has no kids.

Meanwhile, you were just an old stay-at-home mom who lived off of her husband’s paychecks while he fucked his coworkers behind her oblivious back.

Before you could draw more detailed comparisons between Sana and yourself, you felt a large hand place itself on the middle of your back, successfully guiding your attention to the only person who bothered staying by your side.

Jin smiled sadly at you, sympathy shadowing his expression as he gestured with his other hand to the empty cup still in your hold. “Let’s get you some more eggnog.”

You nodded wordlessly, still speechless from the interaction, and allowed the taller man to guide you towards the snack table. Jin then took your cup and refilled it himself, providing you the opportunity to pick at the catered food in some cheap attempt at stress eating. By the time Jin came back with a full cup, you were halfway done with a sugar cookie and eyeing the meatballs next.

“Here ya go,” Jin said as he handed over the drink to you. You took it and nodded in thanks but kept your eyes glued to the food, not wanting him to see just how defeated and tired your face probably was. But, Jin wasn’t going to let the whole thing go. “Y/n….I know what you saw and heard looks really bad but trust me….nothing is going on between Sana and Jungkook.”

You snorted. “It doesn’t just look bad, Jin. It was like they were practically rubbing it in my face. Him having an affair isn’t the problem, it’s the way they’re not even bothering to keep it down. The least they could do is be discreet.”

Jin’s jaw slightly dropped, “‘Him having an affair isn’t the problem’? Y/n, do you even hear yourself? Of course that would be a problem! Do you not care about your own marriage anymore?”

And there it was.

The big question.

Did you truly even care about this marriage?

Well, let’s look at the facts.

One: The disrespect of his alleged mistress was more offensive to you than the fact that she was a mistress.

Two: Jungkook dragging you along to this office Christmas party was the first time in over a year that he bothered to take you out.

Three: You two had humble beginnings and could barely afford food, much less wedding bands when you first got married, but now he was a very wealthy man and had no excuse for not buying you or himself a ring. Unless, of course, he enjoyed acting single around other women.

Four: And on top of all this, it had to be factored in how distant he has been with overwhelming work hours that prevented any alone time with your husband. Sex with Jungkook has been off the table for almost a year now.

But did any of this really bother you until tonight? The answer was a resounding no. You were willing to take all those burdens in stride but tonight it wasn’t just about the fact that you were the unwanted wife Jungkook got sacked with, it was the fact that you were humiliated and forced to face the type of girl Jungkook should’ve been married to all along. That was all you were truly upset about.

The conclusion that you indeed didn’t care about your marriage and haven’t in some time now hit you in a sudden wave, but in no way were you shocked.

Voice shaky and brittle, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with Jin and say the one thing you always secretly thought but never dared utter out loud. “I-I guess I always expected it to end like this. When we were younger, he was always the popular one and all the girls wanted him. We were only dating for three months when I got pregnant, and if it weren’t for our son he probably would’ve dumped me eventually and left for another girl. But, he stuck around for his kid because he’s a good father. And I’ve been nothing but a burden to him for a while now.”

Tears began to blur your vision, forcing you to quickly duck down and quietly sip at your drink so as to not embarrass yourself even more.

You heard a shuffle and suddenly Jin was holding you, using both of his lengthy arms to cage you in and rest you against his broad chest. It had been a long time since a man had held you like that, and you practically went boneless at the contact. You closed your eyes and tried to will away the incoming tears, even going so far as to solely focus on the scent of Jin’s cologne as he soothingly said, “Y/n, listen closely to what I’m about to say. You and Hugo were never a burden to Jungkook, and you two never will be. Your marriage was sudden, but it doesn’t make it less valid than any other marriage out there. Jungkook has been with you for so long, he just doesn’t realize when other women are interested in him because he’s been off the market forever. But I promise you, if I knew for even a second that he cheated, I would tell you right away.”

You didn’t say anything.

Although Jin’s words were comforting, they weren’t necessarily true. A marriage that started from a healthy courtship and true love instead of inconvenient circumstances was of course more valid than yours. And even though you were sure of Jin’s honesty and loyalty to you, Jungkook could’ve easily kept his affair secret from Jin as well.

However, you didn’t wish to concern Jin anymore. You already put him through too much awkwardness tonight and didn’t want to keep him by your side as some sort of emotional sponsor any longer than you already have. Jin always loved parties and was the life of any one he was invited to, even if it was just a lame annual office gathering. You then felt guilty for putting Jin in a situation where he would even have to console you when he should be out enjoying karaoke with the rest of his coworkers.

You promptly pulled away from Jin and wiped at your face. He released you and also took a step back, carefully studying you for any signs of further turmoil. Once sure that your face was acceptably dry, you gazed back up at him and offered a thankful smile. “Thanks Jin, I’m sorry I just dumped all of that on you. I really have to use the ladies' room though, can you point me to it?”

“It’s right by the conference room,” Jin informed, pointing out the general direction for you. You nodded and took a few steps toward it before he grasped your wrist to stop you and ask, “Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just find you and Jungkook when I’m out. Go and join the others for karaoke.”

Jin nodded but seemed unsure.

You didn’t look back to see if he actually went to follow the others, instead just advancing to the restrooms, secretly looking forward to some alone time even if it had to come from a public bathroom.

Once you entered the restroom you were relieved to find it completely empty, you weren’t sure if you could handle another run-in with Jungkook’s female colleagues. They all seemed to have a personal vendetta against you.

Instantly, you dashed to the mirror to inspect your makeup, assuming at least the mascara was ruined from your little cry. Thankfully, the damage was minimal and you were able to clean the smudges up with a damp napkin. You focused all your attention on the dreadfully small task, trying not to study your reflection too much given it would just conjure up more mental comparisons to all the other prettier women you encountered that night.

Yet the small task couldn’t last a lifetime, and you had to resort to looking at your phone in search of things to do. You weren’t emotionally ready to go out and search for your husband, so you wanted to prolong your time in the bathroom. Although it hasn’t been that long since you left the house, you decided to text the babysitter for any updates about your son.

To Emily: Hey, is everything okay with Hugo?

It only took about 40 seconds for the teenage neighbor girl to text back an answer, clearly on top of things and overly eager to provide any updates.

Emily: Yes! He ate his dinner, took his bath and we’re about to get ready for bed.

Your motherly instincts were satisfied with that response, but it didn’t do anything to subdue your desire to return back home. Your thumbs briefly hovered over the keypad, somewhat hesitant with the next text you were about to send.

To Emily: Great, thanks again for doing this. Listen, I think we might head back home sooner than we thought. Don’t worry tho, I’ll still give you the pay for the full four hours.

Before you could wait for a response from her, the sound of multiple incoming footsteps interrupted the steady silence in the restroom. Muffled female conversation could also be heard, the slight laughter and bickering amongst a group of women approaching the bathroom. Your fight or flight instinct was triggered, and to avoid any more awkward encounters you rushed to the nearest stall and shut the door- fully prepared to wait out the faceless group of female colleagues.

You heard the restroom door swish open before the women burst in, chatting and giggling with their heels clicking against the tile floor. One of the unknown females made way to the stall beside you, the others presumably hovering by the mirror if the sudden comments about their appearances were anything to go by. You quietly sighed and pulled out your phone again, ready to drown out their office politics talk.

Only for the conversation to somehow steer towards you.

“Did you see her?”

“Of course, I was very confused, to be honest.” One of them replied. “I mean….look at Jungkook and you just assume that whoever he’s with is drop-dead gorgeous, and she was just eh.”

“Yeah, she was pretty plain. What was her name again?”

“Y/n.” A third voice cut in, this one eerily familiar to you.

You glued a hand over your mouth to silence your gasp.

It was Sana.

“Did he ever mention her around you? You are the closest to him in the office Sana, and we didn’t even know he had a wife until tonight.”

“No, I didn’t know until tonight either.”

“What?! That’s insane. Literally all the time he spends with you: getting coffee, buying you lunch, driving you home after late nights, and he conveniently never mentions that he has a wife at home?”

“That’s suspicious. But I guess if I had a dog like that at home, I’d never mention her either.”

Cruel laughter from all of them.

The toilet from the stall next to you flushed, then opened as a new voice entered the discussion while she approached the sinks.

“It’s more than suspicious. He doesn’t even wear a wedding ring. And he’s so close to Sana but never mentioned that he’s married?” A pause as she washed her hands. “It’s obvious what he’s trying to do. Jungkook is trying to have an affair with Sana.”

Although this exchange was extremely hurtful to you, you felt somewhat relieved that you weren’t the only one to see what your husband was doing.

A pause hung in the air as none of the women spoke for a minute, they were willing to gossip but apparently outright declaring the obvious was a step too far for them.

Eventually, one of them chimed in with their own observation.

“Can you blame him? Sana you’re the most beautiful person in the office and you look so good next to him anyway. Much better than that cow Y/n.”

Another round of obnoxious laughter that broke your heart.

“C’mon guys. We gotta head back. Jungkook is gonna get anxious if Sana is away for too long.” Someone teased.

They all murmured in agreement, heading towards the exit as a group before one stopped them with a final question.

“Wait, Sana. If Jungkook does want to have an affair with you, what are you going to do?”

Although you couldn’t physically see Sana, you practically heard the smirk on her face as she said, “Who says we already aren’t having one?”

Needless to say, you ditched the Christmas party almost immediately after the bathroom incident.

You texted Jungkook a white lie about Emily struggling with Hugo, although a good father would’ve known something was up because your son had never given babysitters any trouble before. But luckily, your husband also wasn’t doing so hot in the dad department either.

You would’ve felt bad for not telling the truth if the truth wasn’t so fucking embarrassing.

“Hey, I’m gonna go home to cry like a little girl because I caught your coworkers talking shit about me. Oh, and also your little girlfriend accidentally let it slip that you’ve been fucking her this whole time. K talk to ya later!”

You grimaced at the thought of actually sending that text.

Sure it’s what that cheating bastard deserves, but you just weren’t emotionally ready for that fight yet. Especially after the night you endured, you needed some time to pick yourself up and figure out what to do next.

Divorce was the next logical step, but you were financially dependent on Jungkook. If you moved out and took Hugo with you, where would you two stay? How could you afford to be a single parent? And if Jungkook were to try to fight you for custody or the divorce in general, you would need a damn good lawyer. Unfortunately, lawyers weren’t cheap, especially one that stood a chance against Jungkook and all his wealth.

Your shoulders sagged with the imaginary weight of all these burdens.

When you entered the high-rise penthouse that you called home, you were surprised to see Emily anxiously pacing the foyer in waiting for your arrival.

“Hey, how was Hugo?” You greeted politely, already opening your clutch to pull out the agreed-upon salary.

“M-Mrs. Jeon, I swear I tried to have him in bed by eight like you said but he’s being stubborn and said he won’t go to sleep until you come back and read to him-” The teenager rushed out all at once, clearly nervous that you would scold her.

You held a hand out to stop her rambles, using your other hand to give her the money, and offered her what you hoped was a comforting smile, “It’s okay, Em. Thanks for doing this on such short notice. Why don’t you run home now and try to enjoy your Christmas Eve?”

Emily looked relieved that you weren’t mad, gratefully taking the cash before grabbing her jacket and shoes to make her exit. “Thanks so much for this Mrs. Jeon. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas.” You farewelled while walking the young girl out, locking the door behind her.

You turned around and proceeded down a long hallway that led to the bedrooms, stopping at the door beside the master room which belonged to your four-year-old son. You opened it to peer inside, the familiar deep blue walls with painted-on sea creatures greeting you back, swiftly reminding you once more of Hugo’s obsession with the ocean.

Your son was bundled up in a twin bed so big that it practically drowned him, his small frame barely being recognizable in the large fish-printed duvet wrapped around his tiny frame, only his small and adorable face peeking out to stare right back at you.

Hugo was essentially a carbon copy of Jungkook. At first you were somewhat resentful about this, how was it possible that you carried a baby for nine months and he came out with absolutely none of your features? But after a while of watching Hugo grow up and come into his own slowly but surely, you were pacified by the conclusion that while he may look exactly like his father, his personality and heart took after you.

“Dumpling, why did Emily say you were giving her a hard time and wouldn’t go to bed?” You asked gently, sitting by his side and petting his black hair.

‘Dumpling’ was a nickname you chose for Hugo since you first found out you were pregnant with him. It stemmed from your sudden pregnancy craving to eat dumplings and nothing else, you once even going two straight weeks surviving off the food. There were many times where Jungkook had to bribe you into eating other things, playing on your guilt for not providing your baby all the nutrition he needed. But even now ‘Dumpling’ still stuck, if Hugo’s chubby cheeks were anything to go by.

“Mommy, I-I’m sorry but-” His big doe eyes looked up at you in teary guilt, “I really needed you here. It was a nece-necess-”

“Necessity, bub.” You finished for him, grinning at his attempt at a big word.

Part of you wanted to scold the boy for being difficult, but you didn’t have the heart to. Lately, Hugo has been more clingy to you than ever before. Yet it was practically impossible to punish him because Hugo has always been a good kid and you knew deep down that he didn’t act out unless there was something else going on. You suspected that it had something to do with the lack of his father’s presence that forced him to hold onto you like his life depended on it.

“Well try not to do it again, okay? Emily is a nice girl and she’s just following my orders when she tells you to go to bed.” You said, ducking down to peck the crown of his head and continue running your fingers through his hair.

Hugo nodded in understanding but ultimately stayed silent, basking in your cuddles.

All was silent for a passing moment, and while Hugo enjoyed his mother’s touch, your mind gradually returned to the turmoil that was your marriage.

A sudden epiphany struck you and bit your lip as you debated an idea.

Should you expose your son to your future plan?

The victim of any divorce has always been the children who were left behind. And the last thing you wanted to do was blindside Hugo. Perhaps you should play the hypothetical game just to see where your son’s head was at? It went without saying that Hugo was closer to you than Jungkook and you were more of a parent than your husband. But still, every kid deserved to have a say in their parents’ divorce.

“Bub, how would you feel if….it was just me and you?” You hesitantly inquired.

“What do you mean mommy?” Hugo titled his head in bewilderment and craned his neck to look back up at you.

“What if me and you went away to live together?” You clarified.

“Like a va-vayca-”

“Vacation? And no. But forever. Just me, you and no one else.” You whispered, as if Jungkook himself would storm in and catch you planning your escape with the toddler.

“Oh.” A pause as you could practically hear the mechanisms in his four-year-old brain trying to work out the logistics of what you just proposed. “Okay.”

The nonchalance in his youthful voice had you taken aback.

“It’s a really big decision, Hugo. You wouldn’t mind...not living with daddy anymore, right? You would hardly ever see him, dumpling.”

The boy shifted to lean more of his body against you, essentially resting against you with his head on your chest as he said, “But it’s like that already, mommy.”

Your heart broke.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer to you, feeling a maternal instinct to comfort and protect.

“Okay Dumpling. I need you to promise me not to tell daddy what we talked about.”

“”Kay.” Hugo yawned and closed his eyes, inhaling deep breaths of your scent and beginning the process of falling asleep. “When do we leave?”

“It’ll take some time, bub. You start school in a few months, so mommy will try to find a job while you’re there.” You told him, not bothering to try to explain the concept of a lawyer or apartment deposits on top of that. “But we can do this. It has to be a secret but you're my partner in crime.”

“Like spies?”

You chuckled, “Yeah, like spies. Promise to work with mommy in utter secrecy?”

You held up a pinky, one that Hugo grasped with his own.

“Promise.”

Author’s Note: So....A while ago before I took my long ass hiatus, I did a poll for which yandere story I should write next. The Unsaid Vow won but that was around the same time that shit hit the fan in my life. Recently was scrolling through my notes on my phone and found some of the plot points for this story and I needed a lil break from QQ. Plus I know so many ppl were hyped for this concept so....Here ya go lol. This is kinda short but it’s just a set up, Chapter one’s plot line will start a few months after this when Hugo will start kindergarten and Y/n will actually start looking in to jobs, lawyers and apartments. Also I’m sorry but I’m really bad at writing for kids lol, and I absolutely refuse to write that gross ass baby talk so just pretend your son is a lil genius okay? Also srry Once but I needed really pretty girls to be villians in my story so yeah, Twice girls in here aren’t likable but aren’t reflective of how i actually feel about them lol.

Big thanks to @sushireads once again for creating the cover art for this fic. They literally are becoming my go-to for fic art.

And my beta readers @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop! They beta’d for QQ and I came to them really early about this fic. They were with me since the beginning and have given me advice with creative choices to just simple grammar. They easily could’ve leaked the first draft of this too but they didn’t and kept it secret for a while. I was really insecure about getting out of my comfort zone with this plot but they really guided me.

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huskymaine · 2 years

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Kakashi’s Possible Sexuality

Recently I dive into my country’s forum about Naruto fandom, and the most nickname-borderline-insult that I’ve encountered about Kakashi is “Bujang (Bachelor) Kakashi”. Looking at that, I can relate the pain of a 20+ years old person who had the gall to not get married and sprouting children while living in Asia. Many people in my country wondered why Kakashi didn’t get married although he’s addicted to porn. Many people also think that he is actually gay and married to Guy after Boruto episode aired (although in mocking tone, as expected from my conservative country).

Anyway, his lack of marriage status makes fans wonder about Kakashi’s sexuality. Who does he prefer, dudes or gals? Boobs or pecs? Now because I have no better thing to do, I’ll try to compilate every time Kakashi encounters sexual situation and how he handles them. Feel free to add other things that I’ve missed!

Icha-Icha

First Bell Test (Icha-Icha Paradise)

Ah Icha-Icha Paradise, the iconic book for Naruto (mainly Kakashi)’s fans. We got a glimpse of Kakashi’s favorite novel in full glory on the First Bell Test, when he shamelessly reads the book in front of minors (and then getting scolded by Kurenai for it).

Unbeknownst by most people, in there we got the first clue about Kakashi reading Icha-Icha book for the plot. He mainly read the book to aggravate his children further, but he can say “this book is more interesting than you guys” or something like that. But “I just want to know what happens next” is so plot-focused, and makes me wonder since when Kakashi read Icha-Icha Paradise book, because it’s the first book of the Icha-Icha series and sounds like he read it for the first time.

Yeah he indeed enjoyed and invested by the book. I am not the type to judge people by their literature preference, so I just think it’s nice that he was having fun in a job that he doesn’t even want in the first place. At least he never shows his book on his students, the only thing they can see is a man chasing a woman and adult rating symbol.

Naruto and Kakashi first met on Shippuden (Icha Icha Violence)

Here Kakashi reads Icha-Icha Violence, he was still hooked in Icha-Icha series even after 2+ years passed. A true porn addict will spend their time read other thing as much as they can. But the only book he was interested is another addition of Icha-Icha series. Sounds like he fell in love in Icha-Icha series XD.

Naruto is someone who tried to peek at women’s bath, developed and excited by Sexy Jutsu, I wonder what kind of erotic book that made him bored. Perhaps he just dislikes reading, and we know that he was not great at digesting complicated words.

Second Bell Test (Icha-Icha Tactic)

Not gonna lie, at the first time I watched it as 15 years old naive kid, I shouted, “Yes, finally! Do Sexy Jutsu on him! I mean, Kakashi-sensei is pervert and you knocked out Iruka, Ebisu, Jiraiya, even Third Hokage with that technique!”

But then.....

“His weakness is spoiler. He was afraid of spoiler from a porn material. What kind of pervert is that? Plus it turns out that Naruto doesn’t know the plot of Icha-Icha (on anime). What if Kakashi doesn’t believe him, keep opened his ears and eyes, and then realize that Naruto only babbling nonsense? Using Sexy Jutsu resembles Icha-Icha protagonist will have the less risk ”

Re-watching this scene again, I am amazed by the hilarious logic of Hatake Kakashi the pervert. Who genuinely reading erotic book for plot point, for believing his cute little student’s words whom he just met after 2+ years, for bravely close his ears and eyes when his cute little students came to him with the intent to attack, the cute little students that can shatter the ground and perforate water tank.

All for the sake of avoiding spoiler XD.

Decoding Jiraiya’s message (Icha-Icha tactic)

Unlike in the anime, here we know that Icha-Icha Tactics is indeed explicit, and Kakashi was legit blushed by the sexual parts of the book. So I think Kakashi is not completely asexual, considering that he’s not truly dismissive by the sexual part of the book. And the book contains sexual parts from page 7 till page 207, damn now I want to read that book XD.

Oiroke no Jutsu (Warning Explicit Picture Ahead)

Konohamaru Oiroke no Jutsu female

I know that in anime Kakashi once sees Konohamaru’s Oiroke no Jutsu and has nosebleed-rocket. But that segment is filler (although indeed a good one and people can freely treat it as canon if they want).

In manga though, there are 3 chance when Konohamaru uses Sexy Jutsu in front of him, and his reaction is.....

This man just too focused on his book! XD Jiraiya is clearly affected, Sakura and Tsunade is disgusted, and Naruto has no reaction because he claimed that he has the better version. But Kakashi doesn’t even spare a glance. Now it can be argued that perhaps he didn’t see it so he has no reaction (although true pervert should turn their head immediately after hearing Sexy Jutsu being shouted), but...

He also has no reaction when Konohamaru used Sexy Jutsu in front of him.

What about male version?

Konohamaru Oiroke Male version

Still has no reaction. But again, it’s weird and downright red flag if he was attracted by imagination of his 16 years old students’ naked bodies, so...

What about random men version?

Reverse Harem no Jutsu (male version)

Here Naruto’s jutsu brought almost every type of men, like beef guy Juugo-like, pretty guy, cheerful guy, shy guy, glasses guy, solemn guy, etc (with the exception of a guy with facial hair, dunno why. I don’t fancy guy with facial hair but surely some people think that facial hair is hot, right?). Again, Kakashi has no visible reaction other than shocked. Naruto’s P.O.V makes it more hilarious, because he said :

“Sexy Jutsu always seem to work well on strong people!”

Oh, it’s not like Naruto didn’t think that Kakashi is strong. He complimented Kakashi’s strength many times in the manga. But somehow in second bell test he never thinks Sexy Jutsu as possible technique to defeat Kakashi, I wonder why...

His only reaction of that Sexy Jutsu is....

Kakashi I love you and it’s sad that most people in your circle are dead but please refrain yourself from randomly talking to dead people. I know that it was supposed to be heartwarming moment but I can’t help but laugh.

Konohamaru and Naruto Oiroke competition

I truly wonder how the hell even Danzo’s agents are even affected by Sexy Jutsu. Is Sexy Jutsu that alluring? Anyway, look who ignored it and went straight to business instead..

Here Kakashi didn’t paid much attention either. He was more worried by Root’s distrust on Sai and he only showed his head under the bush after Konohamaru and Naruto dispel their Sexy Jutsu. But wait, maybe he turned his head because he was curious by Sexy Jutsu after all?

Don’t think so, because Kakashi said “were you curious about Oiroke no Jutsu? Sorry..” to Root agents, giving me impression that he didn’t care much about Oiroke no Jutsu unlike his opponents. Besides, if he turned his head immediately he would not miss it, but he was contemplating about Sai’s status in Root instead. Anyway, he missed the Sexy Jutsu but he was given the first seat of Konohamaru and Naruto’s precious bonding.

Here his face is just like a happy sensei who was glad that his student having a good time before a hard mission. He doesn’t seem to regret missing Konohamaru and Naruto’s sexy jutsu.

Real Life Asset

Tsunade boobs

Probably the only real life experience he had, since unlike Naruto and Jiraiya he never tried to peek on women in bath.

No reaction either. He’s not attracted, not disgusted, not even paid a glance on Tsunade’s boobs. Kakashi just silently looked at Jiraiya and.... probably wondered what’s going on inside Jiraiya’s head XD.

Conclusion :

In my opinion, I think Kakashi is demisexual, considering that in whole 700 chapters he was attracted by Icha-Icha books alone, something that he followed for years (so he’s Icha-Icha sexual?). Regardless what Kakashi Hiden novel said, he was not the type to have instant attraction toward sad woman’s eyes, even he needs more than 600 chapters to like Team 7 (Naruto is admitted earlier, probably because of MC privilege XD). According to that, he’s also not the type to change his dynamic with other people easily, if he sees someone as his friend or student, forever he will sees them as his friend/student. Of course, it doesn’t mean that it definitely can’t be changed (still less likely for student), but I think it requires tremendous efforts and times that can only be obtained in fanfics, because Kishimoto is definitely not interested at writing romance.

(Or perhaps, he was like me, only like to read smut without having attraction or desire to project ourselves into characters in the smut. In my case, I quite like reading romance, like to see kiss or/and lovebites in my media, but completely uninterested to experience it myself. In fact, I admit that I’ve read many smut fics and books but I’ve never been kissed in 20+ years of my life and kinda disgusted to imagine myself kissing someone, regardless gender).

Tl;dr : They’re all my personal opinion. In the end, he has no definite exclamation of sexual preference (unlike Naruto, Sakura, and Jiraiya) so it’s up to fans interpretation about Kakashi’s chosen partner. Who knows, maybe he likes woman/man but is just honorable enough to refrain himself from getting attracted by his kids’ jutsu and his superior’s assets.

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pixla · 2 years

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Borderline (chap. 1)

(Edward Nashton x reader)

Warnings: there are no warnings for this chap but beware this fic may be very explicit and I’m going full creep ed nd i will not be holding back, okay love you all

Summary: You live in probably the shittiest apartment Gotham has to offer, the only one you can actually afford with your low paying waitressing job at least. Everyday is the same, wake up, elevator, diner, work and work and work and repeat. This was at least, until a mysterious sandy haired boy named Edward nashton moved in next door.

<?>

This morning was no different.

You shuffled out of your apartment, your work bag slung over your shoulder. You held your keys in one hand, finding the right match after a few seconds of fumbling, locking your stingy apartment door behind you. You fixed your hair as you walked, tightening the high pony-tail you’d put your hair in everyday before work.

The apartment building reeked of sweat and cat piss, not unusual for Gotham in any way but god did the pungency keep you awake and alert. Sighing, you stepped forwards, the light clink of your shoes against the tile flooring ricocheting through the barren hallway. You might have been mistaking this morning for a quiet one where you’d find yourself riding the elevator alone for the few minutes you did so everyday. But you were wrong. As you stepped into the elevator, you routinely looked down at your shoes, making sure to keep to yourself. You bent your ankle to look over the sides of the shoes as you waited for the elevator doors to close. They were scuffed. You throwned. They were your favourite pair. Before you could dwell any longer on the poor state of your shoes, just as the metal elevator doors began to close, a boot snuck between, ceasing your lonely journey to the ground floor. “Do you mind?” It was a man's voice.

You lifted your head, eyes meeting with the man’s who stood before you. “Not at all.” You stepped aside to let the man more comfortably join you within the elevator. To say you were familiar with the man who now stood beside you would be an understatement. Almost everyday for the past week had played out the same, you’d leave your apartment 8 on the dot and as you finally made your way into the elevator, thinking you’d have the morning commute through the apartment block alone, there he’d come, his rucksack in hand and old black boots pounding against the floor.

Your eyes darted across the elements of the elevator, which you could admit was not anything interesting, but ultimately landing at your feet once again. You liked to wear your short heeled Mary Janes, even if all you actually did for work was serve at one of the many shitty diners Gotham had to offer. Waitressing, you could admit, was not the dream job you had envisioned for yourself as a child but you at least tried to enjoy it, in any small and insignificant ways you could.

“So..” The man spoke with his always surprisingly deep voice for someone with such an undeniable baby face. “How was your weekend?” His voice was timid, his poor attempt at small talk obvious. You looked up again taking in the expression on his face. He wore a thin lipped smile that made his eyes crease. He was sweet, you could admit, definitely the type of guy your grandma would want you to marry, quaint, polite, and stays out of trouble. “It was good, uneventful, but good.” You looked away, not wanting to stare too much. He hummed, the noise coming deep from within his throat. “Same.”

You watched eagerly as the numbers got lower 3…2…1. The ground shook so abruptly and violently you never could get used to it, you stumbled, your ankle giving way beneath you and your satchel slipping from your shoulder onto the elevator floor. Before you could fall though, a firm grip was placed on your shoulder, keeping you upright. You couldn’t help it, it was only instinctive to grasp the man's arm, but when you didnt stop, you too could admit it was a little awkward. “Thanks.” You finally retracted your hand, bending down, trying to collect the items that had spilled from your neglected bag. “By the way,” You muttered, your hands hurriedly throwing things dangerously hard into the bag. “I’ve never gotten your name.” The man crouched down beside you, picking up your phone that also must have slipped out and placing it back into your bag. “Edward.’ He paused. “Edward Nashton.” You smiled. “Well Thank you Edward, Edward nashton.” He smirked, amused, before wiping his hands against his clothed thighs, standing.

You picked up your bag, opening your mouth to give your name back but instead of being face to face with an Edward Nashton, you stared into the empty space where he once stood.

This morning was different.

<?>

Extra: Not sure how much I’ll be able to post of this on tumbler so make sure to support me on ao3 (: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37960381/chapters/94807063

#the batman #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton #edward nygma #Edward Nygma x reader #the riddler #the riddler x reader #the batman x reader #dceu #dceu x reader

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tomwambsmilk · 2 years

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I think there’s a really interesting phenomenon in the “Succession” fandom in how people talk about Shiv. There seems to be constant fighting between two extremes - namely, “Shiv is a victim, and people who have a particular dislike of her only have that bc of misogyny” and “Shiv is a terrible person and an emotional abuser, full stop.”

And the thing is - like every single other character in “Succession”, the truth about Shiv is… complicated. Misogyny is a part of her story, and there are many ways in which she is a victim. She also treats the people around her, especially Tom, terribly. She saves the company at the shareholder meeting, but also alienates most of the senior management of Waystar within days of being promoted to President of Domestic Affairs. She demands an open marriage, but the reasons are rooted in deep family trauma which has harmed her ability to trust. She’s incredibly conceited and believes she’s better, intellectually and morally, than everyone else; but, she is consistently shunted aside by her family. She’s complicated!

But the thing is - so is every other character on the show. And yet the discourse around characters like Kendall, Roman, and even Tom and Greg, addresses that nuance. Obviously people tend to lean more to one side than another, but there is an understanding that - yeah, Tom behaves abusively towards Greg, but there is genuine affection there; yeah, Kendall performed wokeness in a borderline disturbing way in season 3, but is deeply impacted by the trauma he’s suffered; and so on and so forth. People are able to acknowledge the flaws of the characters they love and the wounds of the characters they hate - except when it comes to Shiv.

And it drives me a little bit nuts, because Shiv is such a fascinating character! I’m saying this as someone who, yeah, is rubbed the wrong way by Shiv, especially season 3 Shiv, in a particularly aggressive way. At this point I think she is, legitimately, my least favourite character. A lot of that is due to my personal experience - there are specific aspects of her character that remind me of people I worked with in an emotionally abusive workplace in the recent past, so I have a more visceral reaction to her shit than the other siblings. At the same time, I used to root for her! Especially through season 2. I think the way she’s treated Tom is horrific, and she’s really not emotionally healthy enough to be married to anyone - but I do feel for the traumas that brought her to this point, where she’s too broken to have anything approaching a healthy relationship.

I guess my point is that - there are valid reasons to dislike Shiv that are not just “I hate women”. There are valid reasons, even, for her to be your least favourite character, that aren’t just “I hate women”. At the same time, reducing her to just being an abuser (which, tbh, I think is a loaded term that doesn’t always strictly apply to Shiv), without understanding her backstory and her trauma and how she got to that point, is doing a disservice not just to the character but to Jesse Armstrong’s work. It’s okay to like Shiv! It’s okay not to like Shiv! It’s okay that other people’s opinions differ from yours! Liking or not liking Shiv doesn’t give you some kind of moral high ground.

TL:DR; I wish I saw more nuanced discourse about Shiv in the fandom. She’s just as complicated and interesting as the other characters on the show, and I think we should do more to acknowledge that.

#succession #shiv roy #rant #mutuals: I hope I haven’t alienated any of you #I know people have strong opinions about shiv #I just wish we could have more discourse about shiv without people calling each other misogynists or abuse enablers

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

Text

meet me in the gardens

knight!natasha romanoff x noble!fem!reader

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say not to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either.

warnings: ppl are upset, shit gets ruined, swearing? the “l” word

word count: 3.5k

what is this, like the sixth part? this was definitely supposed to be a miniseries lmao- all the other parts are on my pinned post!

The nights passed the same, but the days were entirely different. Days kept flying by, and with every single cycle of the sun, you were forced more and more by tradition to prepare your home for your future husband. It had been days since you and Natasha confessed your feelings for each other and kissed under the starlight, and still, the feeling of her arms around you and her face in your hands still ran around in your mind, pushing thoughts of your duties out of your mind without any effort. And it was for that reason, against your judgement, that you still met with Natasha Romanoff every night.

It felt like ever since the honesty started flowing, you began to feel lighter. With every glance at Natasha that became less and less stolen, your soul felt like it could deviate more and more by the second. Your mind knew what was going on, the high before the impending fall, and you knew for a fact that when you hit the ground, you were going to shatter. But you couldn't find your mind wanting to acknowledge how fragile you were becoming for love. And how could you? How could you mind the chilling fall and the results of it when Natasha cradled you so gently, just like stained glass?

Wanda was the sane one. She was the one who kept trying to bring you back down from the tops of your clouds, attempting to be the gentle reminder before reality itself slammed right into you and took your breath away in the worst of ways. She was the gentle hand of a mother that tried to shake her child out of a nightmare disguised as a dream, and you were the insolent child who ignored her.

Pietro, on the other hand, encouraged it. He was all for splurging, and that went for everything. He was a borderline glutton and when he had money, it was gone within weeks, and he was an advocate for the way that you were divulging in your own little heaven. He would smile when he saw you off in your own head, reminiscing on a memory so sweet you could have sworn it was some sort of dream. He would tell Wanda in hushed whispers to leave you alone, and that you deserved to be happy, even if it was only for a little bit.

“But she doesn’t deserve to have it ripped away from her,” Wanda said to him on a day where the sun managed to pierce through the coverage of the clouds, and he just shook his head at her, looking at her with slight pity. “It’s my duty as her friend to remind her.”

“She’s a smart girl, don’t you think she knows?” Pietro retorted, eyeing you as you picked a magnolia from your garden, standing by yourself but still smiling. “Besides, do you really think that her lady love is going to let anything happen to her?”

Wanda gasped and looked around them, on alert for anyone who could have possibly heard what her brother had said. Her eyes were wild as she watched for anyone who may have heard the scandalous words, and when she saw that everyone was minding their business, she swirled her head back to glare at Pietro. “What?”

Pietro grinned, and then his grin turned into a sneaky smirk. “What, you didn't know?” When Wanda hesitated to answer, he chuckled. ‘There’s no way you didn’t know.”

“Pietro, you can’t just say things like that,” she scolded, heart still racing at the thought of someone knowing.

“You and I are the only ones who know her well enough to know that she’s in love, and there’s no way that you haven’t seen the way that the knight is around her.”

Wanda had. She had a great read on people, always seeming to know everyone’s thoughts before they even knew it themselves. She knew the second that Natasha Romanoff started to change, and she would never forget the time where she realized that it was because of her very own dear friend.

It happened on a particularly cool day, and Wanda had dressed you in a short and flowy dress before realizing that there was a breeze outside. You had walked down to the training areas, even though you said that you were just aimlessly walking, and you kept glancing over your shoulder to watch the red head spar with a man twice her size and hold more than her own. You had looked away the second that Wanda looked at you for a moment too long, with her eyes that were always seeking answers. The first pang of realization hit Wanda that day when she saw you stand up straight and tall when Natasha started to saunter towards the both of you. The second time that she saw it was when Natasha got an eyeful of you, too, and then her flawless steps faltered for the quickest of moments. Natasha never faltered.

“It doesn’t matter what we know,” Wanda muttered lowly, putting a strand of her hair behind her ear in an attempt to look like they were having a normal conversation. “We can’t just go around saying that our lady-”

“Likes women?” He asked, and Wanda immediately started throwing curses his way. “No one ever sees past their own problems here. I can assure you, no one cares if Lady Mirellis likes lying with women.”

“No, but Brock Rumlow will care,” Wanda pointed out. “And he has the ability to make her life miserable. So please, watch your mouth. Or at least care for how loud you run it.”

“They were meant to meet,” Pietro said, his words nearly running into Wanda’s. “They were meant to meet, that much is obvious. I knew it from the second that I saw them look at each other when the redhead stepped out of the carriage.” Wanda looked at him with shock in her eyes as she watched his face flood with smugness, the sort of effortless smile that made people smile back. “What, you didn’t see that coming?” He shook his head and ruffled his sister’s hair, ignoring the angered sounds she made.

“And you say that you’re the observant twin?”

§§

The stream became your hiding place. It was the place that you and Natasha went when it all became too much for you or when she wanted to celebrate getting another step closer to finding herself. You went on good days and bad ones, but at the end of it, you felt at peace. You both ended up forgetting why you went in the first place.

Your toes were in the water, brushing up against a rock every few seconds as the red head practiced wielding her sword absentmindedly behind you, still looking graceful and as smooth as water while she did it. “What’s going to happen when you finish?”

“When I finish what?”

“When you finish your knightly duties, you know, the reason why you came in the first place?” You asked, turning your head to look at her. She had her arm straight out, sword elongating it and was mid-lunge, but her eyes were on you and her forehead had gathered wrinkles. “What’s going to happen?”

She dropped her arm abruptly and frowned. You heard her inhale over the sound of rushing water. “Well, I suppose I have to ride back to the capital.” You knew that. “I’ll be officially knighted there.”

“Are you excited?”

“It’s still a few months away,” Natasha said, and you knew that the statement was more for you than it was for her. “But when the time comes, I’ll be excited.”

You knew she would be. She rose up from nothing to possibly being a woman knighted by the king, something that had never happened before. She was proud of herself, and you were proud of her. She was the perfect knight, honorable and strong, and everything that a person with that title should be. You sat there with your lips shut, hand in hers like it was meant to be that way, and your mind moving at a speed legs couldn’t even hope for.

“Whatever you’re worrying about, darling,” Natasha said, the hand that wasn’t intertwined with you reaching up and brushing against your jaw, fingers caressing your face as she turned your head gently to face her. “Don’t.”

“If only it were that easy.”

“It could be,” she retorted, and her pointer finger brushed over your top lip. “Just stop thinking about it.”

You pursed your lips at her, shaking your head. “You truly do have a man’s brain.”

“Are you going to be able to do it?” She asked out of nowhere, and you stopped tracing her eyebrows with your finger to give her a confused look. “I guess the real question is- are you really going to do it?”

You sighed, your heart already slowly breaking. “Yes.” You said, lacking hesitancy that you felt deeply in your heart. “It won’t matter that I’ll be married to him. I swear it.”

“I believe you.”

“Nothing has to change. We’ll sneak around like we always do, we’ll be fine.”

“Hey,” Natasha said, grabbing your hands as they started to shake. Your eyes were gathering tears with every word that passed through your lips, and she made you focus on her. “I believe you.”

The rest of the night was spent as all the other nights were spent. Silence other than the sounds of nature and each other’s soft breathing. The customary breeze that came and went brushing against your bare legs and Natasha’s clothed ones. Soft touches that ranged from hands to foreheads to each other’s backs. It was so intimate, and you were so alone with her that it truly felt like you two were the only people on the planet. You never felt safer. Seeing Natasha wield a sword or wear her armor had nothing on the security that you felt when she just had you close, where there was nothing but a sliver of air between your two bodies. It was in moments like those, when she held you in her arms and kissed your temple, where you truly felt invincible.

§§

With every passing day, you fell more and more in love with Natasha Romanoff. That much was a given, and you knew that the first night at the stream was going to change your life for forever, but you never expected it to be that hard. And by it, you meant, getting married to someone you would hate just so that you could keep the woman that you loved safe.

And it felt so good to finally use that word, even if it was only in the comforts of your own mind. You loved her. You loved her like you had never loved anyone else, and you had to tell her one day. Your heart sunk to your toes when you realized that the confession would have to be in an empty forest or in your gardens or somewhere else just a s secretive, and that no one would ever find out truly how devoted you were to her. You were never going to be able to tell the world that you loved her, and that was for more reasons than one.

You were going to marry Brock Rumlow the day after he arrived. And that day was hardly even approaching anymore, it was on your doorstep. It was so close, in fact, that you were standing in your wedding gown and crying as you tried it on one last time before the fateful day.

One second, Wanda was doing your corset and fixing the collar on the traditional wedding dress and the next- she was watching you lose your mind. “I really- I can’t do it.” You had a hand over your mouth as you looked up towards the ceiling. You collapsed to the floor despite your chest struggling to expand and catch a breath while the corset constricted. Your hands covered your face as you allowed yourself to have a good cry for the first time in what felt like years.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Wanda breathed out, and you could feel the heartbreak in her just like it was in you. “I know. I know, just cry it all out.”

Your head was spinning. You had no idea what terrible choices you had made for life to bring you to the spot that you were soon to arrive at and be stuck in forever. You had no idea what you had done to the world to make the universe want to make your life miserable. “I can’t do it.”

“If you’re afraid that he’ll hurt you…” Wanda started off, a slight tremble in her voice as she tried to gather her own bearings and be strong for you, “Pietro and I won’t let it happen. Pietro is strong, and I’m fierce when it comes to the two of you, you know that. Nothing will ever happen to you while we’re here.”

“I can’t marry him,” you sobbed, and it felt like you were being crushed into a hug by the corset. “I can’t.”

“I will be with you every step of the way, just like I was before, darling.”

“No!” You wailed, and you felt Wanda startle a bit. You were going in circles in your own mind, s fast that you couldn’t even stop your lips from moving if you had tried. “I can’t- I cannot marry him because my heart is fully in the possession of another.” You admitted lowly, so quietly that Wanda hardly even heard it. “I can’t.”

Wanda waited a few moments before speaking again. “It’s Natasha isn’t it?”

You stiffened up immediately, almost forgetting that quickly that you had shared the only secret that you ever kept from Wanda. Natasha. “What?”

“Pietro and I have known you for what feels like centuries,” Wanda said rubbing a smooth hand up and down your back. “Did you really think that we hadn’t caught on?”

You looked up at her, panic manifesting in your eyes. “Who else knows?” If you were in a rational state of mind, you would have known that Wanda and Pietro would never run their mouths, especially not about something that meant life or death. And you being with someone- a woman at that- before your betrothed came? That meant certain death for the both of you. ‘W-Wanda-”

“No one knows,” she said soothingly, a promise deep rooted in her tone. “Just the two of us. You hid it surprisingly well, but you can’t hide from your family.”

And they were family. The only ones you considered to be family, actually. “So now you know why.” Wanda nodded, and then the two of you sat on your wooden floor in silence, but it felt awfully loud with the thoughts running through you.

It felt like ages had passed by the time Wanda’s voice flooded your senses again, the despair in it hardly hidden. “What are you going to do?”

“Try to keep us both alive.”

§§

Your eyes were shut as you laid on your back and tried to will the tears away. Natasha was next to you, and you were supposed to be stargazing during your last night of freedom. You had been keeping it together, but the second Natasha heard a sniffle, she shook her head and leaned up on her arm.

“You are not going to mope on our last- you know what? You’re just not going to mope tonight. Stand up.” Before you could even tell her that you didn’t want to she was yanking you up with one hand. You stumbled forward and into her arms, unable to stop yourself from giggling a bit before she steadied you.

The moonlight was your friend as it lit her face, and like you always did, you momentarily lost your breath while the two of you locked eyes, yours clashing with her blue ones and creating a tension that you were so familiar with, the kind that everyone craved. “If there was no rush, nothing threatening to tear us apart, would you agree to marry me right now?”

You blinked. “What?”

“In another life,” Natasha said, and you nodded with hesitant encouragement. “If this was another life and I was someone in a position to get down on one knee and marry you, would you tell me yes?” You stood there tongue tied, holding both of her hands as she stared at you head on. “If I were a man, a wealthy man who loved you for you, just like I do now, would you tell me yes? Would you agree to marry me if there were no obstacles?”

Once you understood the depth of her question, the answer that had been stirring within finally came to light, and then it was leaving your lips in a surprised exhalation. “Yes.”

“Good,” Natasha said, the apprehension melting off of her face. She took a step back, but still held your hands tightly. “I’ll make it a point to find you in the next life, then.”

The next life. An unknown. Something that had so many variables, so many different meanings and outcomes. She was so optimistic, for someone who had seen so much hurt and suffering. But you were a realist, you had to be after everything that happened to you. And you knew deep down, no matter how much you willed for there to be one, that there was no second chance at a next life for you. And there wasn’t one for her, either. You didn’t have the next life. You didn’t even have the one you lived in. But you had a single night.

“I would marry you tonight,” you said softly, and when you heard her breathing hitch, you turned your head to look at her, watching the slightest of flushes appear on her cheeks, like she was surprised that you would have even said the words that you did. “Even with everything going on right now, I would marry you. I would marry you with or without the people who hate us for loving who we do, and with or without Brock Rumlow coming in the morning. If I could, I would marry you. If you’d have me, of course.”

“Of course I would,” she said, relief lacing in her voice as she touched your face, and one of your tears hit her pointer finger. “And it’s too late now, I’m afraid, but, I love you,” she said, and just like that, all of your worry and frustration and fear had melted away, like you were in some stupid fairy tale that queens tell their daughters at night. “Is that enough?”

No. It wasn’t. Not when it came to her. You wanted to give your all to her and you wanted it back from her. But as quick as you realized that you wanted it all, you realized that you would never get it. So, the little confessions and hugs and caresses in the dark were going to have to be enough. You would make them enough. “It’s enough,” you said, because wanting was enough. Being with her in the night and desiring for her during the day was enough. “It’s enough.”

§§

You expected a more calm entrance from Lord Rumlow, but then again, you didn’t know him. But the second all of his horses and men came barreling down the road, you felt like you knew him quite enough.

You knew all men like him at first glance.

Wanda was on your left, and Pietro on your right as you stood in a pretty, floral dress that Wanda picked out for you. It was silent when she dressed you, but all the words were there. She did your hair the way that you usually did it, said you looked beautiful, and then the next thing you knew, you were standing and watching carriages arrive.

Natasha wasn’t there.

You honestly didn’t know if it was worse or better for you.

When the fanfare was finally over and the door to the grandest chariot of them all opened, you held your breath. And then, before you could even stop yourself, you thought, I’m about to see what a true monster looks like.

He was a big man. Muscular, sturdy looking, and intimidating. You immediately understood why he came off as so hostile in the letters, and it was because he was so scary looking that he could get away with nearly anything. You tilted your head upwards in defiance, meeting his eyes even though he cocked a brow at you, easily recognizing you as his betrothed, and as a woman who was directly challenging him.

He took a few steps closer, but like he knew of your extreme aversion to him and the way that you had two people beside you that would defend you fiercely, he stopped at a far enough distance. His expensive shoes dug up your grass, and you would have flinched if it weren’t for his steely, self assured voice coming your way. “You must be my wife.”

You couldn’t even scoff. “Not yet.”

“But tomorrow is coming,” he said, looking around the estate, clearly pleased with the way it looked. He nodded his head once, twice, and then three times, before his gaze settled on you again, and he looked you up and down. “Couldn’t ask for anything more.

***

it literally astonishes me that this was supposed to be four chapters long, at most. but then again, it was supposed to be a fucking one shot just like all the flowers will bloom- so why am i surprised? i can’t write none shots for shit guys...

please like and reblog if you liked this lil installment! i hope you guys have a great rest of your day/night :))))

taglist!

@teenwonder @msmarvelsmain @saamwilscn @procrastinatingsapphictrash @fayhar @8plasma @slut-for-nat @dontmindmejustreading @swords-are-cool @200605chaeng @thescottishavenger @antidaytime @jenny-song @madamevirgo @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @shycucumbersandwich @dailyavengering

@xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ima-gi--na-tion @chickenhavewisdom

i’m pretty sure i didn’t forget anyone, and if i did, i’m sorry!

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha x female reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #knight!natasha #royalty au #natasha romanov fluff #marvel au #lgbt marvel #gay marvel fic #my fics #natasha x fem!reader

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cornacopicimagines · 4 years

Text

after hours│t.h

pairing: professor!tom holland x reader

words: 6.9k (hehe nice)

warnings: swearing, PURE FILTH, sir kink, rough sex, masturbation (male & female), exhibition kink if you squint, spanking & sort of public sex.

summary: It's wrong, y/n tells herself. She can't help it though. She can't help fantasising about him. At the other end of the class, Tom tells himself to stop staring at her. It's creepy, he thinks. Neither one knows of the mutual pining that is until tension bubbles over.

a/n: I’m back bitches! I'm still a fucking sinner and this is such a cliche, I'm so so sorry

masterlist

━━★✼☆｡

y/n sat at the desk. Her eyes never left Mr. Holland. Her attention never left the way the veins in his arms bulged when he picked up the massive textbook, never left his perfectly gelled hair and how it sat atop his head like it was crafted to from the day he was born. Perhaps I should start typing the notes that were on the board, she scowled to herself.

She feels dirty, almost ashamed of her crush on him. She hates herself for falling into a stupid cliché that had been so easy to avoid all these tireless years. y/n doesn't know why she has gone back to a love-sick teenage girl fantasising about a boy who she'll never even get to touch. A boy that so out of her league, he wouldn't even had the faintest idea that she exists. That doesn't stop them though. y/n still finger fucks herself to an orgasm that no boy has been able to give her in her 24 years of life, all the while wishing it was his cock instead of her fingers. If Mr. Holland knew what she did to herself under the influence of him and his stupidly handsome face, he would be disgusted. This she knows for a fact.

This isn't what she thought she would be doing, in all honesty. She is a semester away from graduating and she never wanted to be stuck in a perpetual state of wanting someone so unattainable it's not uneasy, it's borderline unethical. She truly believed she would have ancient married professor that sound like their legs deep in their coffin. Instead she got a literal Greek God as her Psych professor.

She knows that she's not the only one of course. y/n has met 10 other girls in her class that probably write god awful poetry about Mr. Holland's liquid bronze eyes. She can't blame them, if she could write shitty poetry about him, she 100% would. y/n not angry either, she knows out of the 120 students (110 of whom are girls), are probably all in the same predicament. She sometimes gets dirty looks from them when Mr. Holland address her by her first name.

Perhaps that's something she should consider; he calls her y/n not Miss y/l/n or just simply Miss. It's different, it's endearing and when he has a raspy voice, it's so fucking hot.

"y/n," a voice called out, she shook herself out of her haze, "are you still with us?" Mr. Holland was no standing over her. His cologne surrounding her, intoxicating her. y/n gulped softly before turning her eyes to his.

"Yes, sorry sir," y/n replied quickly, trying her hardest not to stumble over her own words or even let the blush run to her cheeks.

Mr. Holland smiled warmly, "that's good, I need at least one of you listening," the class erupting in laughter, "I would prefer it to be one of the brightest." That though got them quiet. y/n sunk into her chair in embarrassment. The blush she had been fighting rose to the surface, making her even more adamant not to look up at him but alas she couldn't.

In that small fleeting moment, she caught something in his eyes. She couldn't define exactly what it was. Whatever it truly was, y/n knew teachers should not be looking at their students in such a way. It made her even more lightheaded with admiration.

The lesson continued on as normal for another hour. Mr. Holland described the outline for the next assignment, it seemed short and sweet. Write a 2-thousand-word essay on the effects of unintentional recreational drugs during early childhood. y/n had to laugh at the way Mr. Holland phrased it. It was as if he had never touch pot in his entire life, to be fair, y/n wouldn't be too surprised if he didn't. Most of the girls in his class groaned at the mere mention of actual work and not an hour and a half session of pure toe-curling orgasm material. Now that she thinks about it, that would be a wonderful way to spend her Wednesday mornings and Thursday afternoons.

Of course, y/n was in another word during the last minutes of the lesson. Unable to focus on anything other than the hint of a tattoo peeking through the underlining of his shirt. She was working so hard to distinguish what it was that she had completely missed the end of the lesson and the dozens of people walking out.

"y/n, what exactly are you doing?" Mr. Holland's voice asked above her. y/n almost jumped in her seat, but she stayed completely still. "This is the second time today, should I be worried?"

This though made her jump out of her seat. "No of course not sir!" She defended as she rushed to place her things away. "I was just off in wonderland today."

"Are you sure there is nothing distracting you?" He asked.

Yes.

"No," she replied hurriedly.

"You know you can tell me if something is," he reassured her.

Yes, of course. Let me just tell you about how you are distracting me by always wearing the hottest casual suits every lesson and giving me the wonderful fantasy of tearing it off you.

"I know that, it's just been my busy schedule," y/n lied through her teeth. She's a broke college student with hardly any friends or real other assignments. "I am just working really hard, you know?"

Yeah, working really hard to imagine you pounding me into next week!

With that last thought, y/n knew she needed to leave before she exploded with embarrassment and arousal right there in front of him.

"I just wanted to let you know that you are totally allowed to change the topic of the assignment if you feel like there is something that strikes a chord with you," Mr. Holland smiled brightly.

Fuck! Did he have to look so gorgeous even when he's trying to be dorky and supportive.

Mr. Holland noticed the shocked look upon y/n's face and immediately retracted his statement, "I promise I won't fail you, if that's what your thinking." He explained. "I really enjoy your work, you're a gifted woman with a real talent and I don't want to see it go to waste with my shitty assignment."

y/n turned her attitude around. He was stumbling over his words. It was kind of cute and endearing, like everything he does. She smiled warmly at his compliment.

"Sir," she spoke softly. It came out a lot mouseyer and somehow sexual than she would have liked but she refused to back out of her statement. "I can't wait."

She didn't say another word but simply slung her back over her shoulder and made her way out of the class. Tom followed her figure in complete and utter shock. He praised whatever god watched over him for the small mercy that was having y/n's back turned to him to witness his immediate blush cover his entire freckled face.

Tom never let his eyes leave her. He just watched her waltz right out of his classroom, he bit his lip at the sight of her perfectly cupped ass in her jeans. Through-out the entire lesson, all he could think about is how her tits would bounce as his dick thrusted up into her little cunt. Just the thought made his cock spring to life.

He stared up at the clock. He had to be in another lecture in 10 minutes, he had to teach another round of student without her pretty face in it in 10 bloody minutes. Sadly, it wasn't enough time to imagine cumming over her said face. He fidgeted until his painful erection was safely hidden.

God, you are such a fucking creep, Holland. He thought to himself.

━━★✼☆｡

y/n really didn't want to be doing this.

She really didn't want to have to walk to the library in a mini skirt she had when she went through her cringy hoe phase and a low-cut tank top she only really wore to bed at 8 at night. Luckily before she left, her roommate gave her a full can of pepper spray and a pocketknife. A handle tool for when you looked like a prostitute.

She had no choice. It was laundry night and she had to get her assignment out of the way, or she would never finish it in time. She wanted to kick herself for letting laundry night fall on the only night the library stayed open until midnight. It was a perk for sure but not when you had nothing to wear but pink neon rags.

y/n pushed open the library door and relieved herself of the anxiety of being abducted by the greeting of Harry. He looked familiar but she couldn't pinpoint where she had seen his face before.

"What cha doing here?" he shouted. Quite contradictory for a librarian. y/n grinned when she saw his dorky face at the counter. That is until he caught wind of her outfit, or lack thereof. "Got a late shift at the strip-club after this?" Her face fell.

"I hate you," she played along, her arms slumping on the cold desk. y/n looked around the library. It was basically empty, with the exception of the middle-aged teacher grading a stack full of papers. Poor bastard, y/n thought. "Got one for me?"

"You're going to get me fired if I do this again," Harry huffed, he banged his head against the keyboard in frustration.

"This is the last time," y/n explained, "I pinkie promise." She lifted her hand over the counter and waved her pinkie finger in Harry's face. He stared up her than move his eyeline to her finger now just touching the tip of his nose. He groaned loudly as he took her finger in his.

"There is a ton of empty booths, choose one and don't make a sound," Harry told her angrily, y/n simply clapped her hands in celebration and skipped off. She chooses the booth in range of Harry, in hopes that maybe he will distracted her and she won't have to do her work because she's too busy goofing off.

y/n dropped her stuff in a huff. Her back slumped into the curve of the chair and the desk covered her body happily. She placed her earphones in and played her favourite study music. She was in absolute heaven.

The assignment was kicking her ass, but she was determined to do it. Mr. Holland seemed genuinely excited for what she would write about if she did decide to change the topic. Now though she's regretting not letting Mr. Holland's hopes down.

She could find hardly anything online and even if she did it was by some random SJW on Tumblr. That's what lead her here tonight. In hopes that maybe some privileged white asshole with a degree would have some sources sighted to help her. Unfortunately, she was having trouble with that too.

It was now 11:30pm. She had been at this god forsaken table for two and a half hours now in an endless pursuit of bullshit. y/n had half a mind to give up and just suck his dick for the grade like other girls would in this situation. y/n had to remind herself though, she is a gifted woman with a real talent that should not be wasted on something shitty to please the masses. Did she just quote Mr. Holland?

She caught eyes with Harry in her block, who had two pencils stuck up his nose in an attempt to cheer her up. It did for the most part. y/n wanted to play along but it had seemed someone else had walked through the door at that very moment and Harry threw the pencils out. Harry's face lit up with red upon the arrival of this mystery person. y/n was interested in who this mystery person was. That is until she saw his face.

Mr. Holland walked up to the library desk in a fit of laughter. His hands smacking the counter and his face contorted in a wide smile. y/n instantly ducked under the table. She could faintly hear their conversation. It just sounded like muffled words until her name popped up.

Jesus Christ. Not now. Not tonight. Why of all night to run into his must it have to be tonight. Maybe I should make a run for it now, bust out of the wind-

"I know you're under there y/n," Mr. Holland's voice sung above her. It was too late now. Any escape plan that her mind frantically tried to rationalise was long gone by this point. Slowly, y/n retreated from her hiding spot to face him. He had his normal outfit of a tight t-shirt paired with a decorative tie and slightly lose pants. This time though he had a long burgundy coat draped over his shoulders. He looked like a painting. y/n smiled sheepishly.

"Hi," she said simply. Regaining her seat from before and fully appearing in front of him. "I had no idea you would be here this late," she tried with conversation.

"Harry's my brother, I have to drive him home before leaving myself and he just wanted to work the late shift tonight," Tom laughed to himself and he turned around and waved at Harry. His brother waved back guiltily. "You know, I could say this same to you," he smirked at her.

"I am working on your assignment, sir," y/n responded quietly. Tom's eyes lit up at that and he rushed to snatch the papers off her desk and into his hands. Much to the disapproval of y/n.

"Oh good, you've decided to change it," Tom sounded almost relieved as if he trusted her judgement more than his own. Worse of it all, he decided to sit down next to her. Even taking off his coat, making his biceps bulge through his shirt. His eyes flicked through what she currently has. His eyebrows raised in shock, "I have to say, I was not expected you to decide to do something about the female orgasm and its effect on the psyche," his voice was an octave deeper than usual. y/n could feel her arousal building.

y/n couldn't decide if he was just being friendly or if he was trying to send a deeper message. Either way, she decided to take action. "Well, with the number of women being unsatisfied I thought it was an appropriate topic," she snatched the papers out of his hands, "but you wouldn't know anything about women being unsatisfied would you sir?"

Tom sat there in astonishment. His cock stiffened against the restraints of his jeans, he has only been in her vicinity for 5 minutes and already she has him hard as a rock. It was times like these that he wished he could just leave all his determination to fuck her over this very desk at the door. Regrettably, he couldn't.

"Well, that just ruins the surprise," y/n sighed delicately. Her fingers flicking through the pages of her useless book. "Either way, the resources are complete shit," this time her sadness was real, and Tom snapped out of his lust-ridden haze.

"Did you really expect a man to know mostly everything of something that is so cardinally female?" Tom smirked as he closed the book on her and pointed to the photo of a wrinkled old man. He was the author of a stupid book and to be fair, he looked like he would write this type of book as well.

"Damn, I knew I was doing something wrong," y/n hissed. She had been spending her entire night trying to piece together information from a man who can only give her half the story.

"The book on the top shelf is one on the chemical effects of orgasming in females by a female," Tom leaned in and whispered in her ear. His hot breath wafted of her skin; it was enough to send goose bumps over her entire body. y/n turned her head to face him, their lips inches away from each other. If they didn't have Harry watching them like a hawk, they probably would be out of breath from lip-locking. Instead, y/n nodded and got up out of her seat, making sure to give him a stunning view of her tits through her tank top. He wanted to audibly gasp but kept in inside. It didn't help with his situation downstairs any more than the last few minutes have.

Slowly, she walked over to the bookcase. Her eyes scanning the endless rows and she made sure Tom had enough time to enjoy the deep red thong underneath her skirt. Finally, her fingers coiled around the book and brought it down to her. Tom couldn't believe his own eyes. He was so under her spell. The way her top hugged her curved and let his eyes completely drink in her breasts. How her skirt was pulled up to her waist, allowing the flushed skin of her ass to be visible to him. He wonders how a woman like her even exists and yet she takes a seat next to him, absolutely unaware of his throbbing manhood. Begging to be touched by her, to be taken by her, by anything to do with her.

"Thank you, sir," she almost purrs to him, Tom's struggling to keep it together. He afraid the next thing to slip out of her flawless mouth, he'll cum straight into his pants when he would rather cum into her.

"Anytime," he responds just a dark before getting up. Hiding his clearly hard cock behind his briefcase. "I'll see you in class?" He already knows the answer, but he just wants the last bit of assurance from her.

"Of course," she smiled warmly. With that Tom basically books it, he's frantically making sure he's well-hidden as he quickly bends over the counter.

"I'll come back to pick you up in 30, I forgot some paper work back in my office," it's so fast, Harry almost doesn't have time to translate it before Tom's out the door and rushing down the hall.

At one point, he basically running to get to his office. Feet tapping against the concrete as he continues to see nothing but flashing images of y/n. It blurs his vision and he's so desperate. He considers using a spare supply closet but know he will only get complete privacy in his own office.

He finally gets there, after what seems like an eternity of running. He checks the hallways before entering. He drops all of his things at the foot of the door. He even has the decency to hang his coat upon the rack. Tom slowly walks over to his chair. It's a rough leather material and usually he would refuse to do what he's about to do in here, it will be stained with the memory but at this point. He got no fucks left to give.

He crashes down. His back hitting the material he hates so much. He doesn't think he's got time, but he still does it slowly. His belt drops next to his and he undoes the zip slowly and the cold air hits his dick. He hisses at the feeling but proceeds anyways. Tom pulls the rest of his jeans and boxers down his legs and kicks them across the room. His hand takes his dick, slowly rubbing the head. Imaging y/n's fingers dancing over it, spreading the precum over. He uses his palm to envision her own stroking up and down in an even motion. He can't help but moan. He can't help but softly call out her name.

He so entranced that he doesn't recognize the following light footsteps approaching. He's so into her non-existent touch that he doesn't hear the door peacefully squeak open. He's so in love with the feeling he doesn't feel y/n walk around the room to get on her knees in front of him.

She's in glory of his movements. Watching him stroke his much bigger cock than her masturbation version has her in a hurry to get her own panties off her body and across the floor. She's sure she's dripping onto the wood below but she does have single care in the world. Tom has his head thrown back in ecstasy as his hand starts to speed up, that's when y/n decides to go for the kill. She licks a long strip up his shaft. Her hands stabilizing him by placing them atop his bare thighs.

Tom almost jumps out of his chair. He had no idea she caught him in the middle of something so vile and wrong. Better yet, she had caught him with the tip of his dick around her perfectly glossed lips. He doesn't get to say another word before y/n's hands begin massaging the bottom of his manhood. It's slow to begin with, it's almost if she's easing him into it. Her cheeks hollow out to allow his length into her warm mouth. It's incredible. Tom can't help but buck his hips up into her throat causing her to gag slightly. It's a sound he wants more of.

His hands ball her hair into his fist. With the faster her movements become, the harder he fucks into her mouth. They sync up almost instantly. One of y/n's hands leave his cock to fuck herself. Tom's mesmerised by the way her fingers act as a replacement for his dick. He's certain he's not going to last much longer.

"I should be d-doing that," he whispers through grunts. y/n lifts her head to smile at him, still letting her free hand jerk and pull bringing him closer the edge.

"I know," she responds, just as quiet. Her mouth reconnects but Tom quickly snaps his hips up into her. Her muffled moaning vibrated against his cock as he fucks her mouth. It's the hottest thing he's ever done. He tugs and pulls at her hair, y/n's edging him on. She's exquisite, it's like she's mastered this and has allowed him to chance to feel how fucking beautiful her little mouth can be.

Like it's effortless, he comes. Without any warning, he is shooting hot stream of cum into her mouth, filling it up. Tom swears he's seeing stars but can't bring him to call out her name but instead bites down on his hand so hard he's afraid he's drawn blood.

y/n releases him from her mouth and is from an actual porn Tom spent his teenage years watching, his cum leaks from her lips and falls down on the curves of her tits. It's a sight he was to remember forever. He wants to grab his phone and click so he will get to look at her covered in his cum for the rest of his life but alas, he's still regaining his bearings.

"Tastes better than I would have expected," y/n giggles as she brings the liquid back up to her lips and swallows. There is no way this woman gets better; he thinks to himself.

"Sweetheart-," he begins but she beats him to it, her gets back on her feet and plants a sweet kiss upon his lips. He can taste himself on her lips, it's addictive.

"I wanted this," it's almost as if she read his mind. He doesn't respond but he simply looks at her, his hand coming up to twirl a strand of hair that has fallen in front of her face.

y/n pulls away from him, walking over the pile of discarded clothes and bend to pick up her soaked underwear. She gives Tom a look, he's so close he can smell her juices from his seat. Her pussy look like a paradise waiting to be exploded by him, but he keeps his hands to himself. y/n paced herself over to the coat hanger, her folded panties in hand. She places them in the left pocket with a devilish smile upon her face. Tom had now place their rest of his clothes back on and had joined her.

"I'll get them back next lesson," y/n grins. Tom nods quickly, their feet fumbling under her back hits his office door. She's trapped in between him, he smells of pure sex but she's committed to her idea. He bends down to capture her lips in his with a forceful kiss. It's hungry and needy. She wants it so badly to give but she pulls away. "My roommate is waiting for me outside."

"We'll finish this," Tom whispers as he opens the door for her. It sends shivers down y/n's spine. It's not a promise, it's an order.

She grabs the rest of her things and heads off. Almost in a sick turn of events, Tom watches her bare ass strut away from him. Just like the last lesson, except this time all he can do is imagine him face fucking her. It's a beautiful sight.

━━★✼☆｡

The three days leading up to class where probably the slowest 72 hours both of them had ever experienced. A constant detail of pleasure from the night before. So when the fated day arrived, both parties didn't know what to do. Tom debated just staying home, though he couldn't deny he so desperately want just another taste. He thought, if he didn't show up, all his guilty conscience of a student giving him the best head he's ever had in his life would simply disappear and he would go back to being a normal teacher. y/n, too, thought of skipping this class for a completely different reason. Perhaps she had got a surge of confidence after hearing her professor call out her name while he touched himself or it could just be the pure scandalous nature of it all. Either way, she wanted to stay cooped up with a blanket while she watched him unravelled. No matter the psyche from the both of them, they went.

y/n stood outside the classroom for a good 20 minutes, unsure of what she should do. Should she go in now and fuck him in the small window or wait and play with his emotions? She hadn't realised how fast the time had went until she saw other student's start entering. It was now or never and unfortunately it was going to be now.

The room was smaller than y/n remember when she stepped in. It seemed more wide the last time she came in here. Of course, the last time she came in her, she hadn't sucked Mr. Holland's cock.

Her eyes landed on him in a matter of seconds. His back was turned to her as he wrote on the massive blackboard in front of him. y/n could see his muscles flex as he tried to reach for the duster above the board. She bit her lip as she thought of her nails digging into his back as he fucked her. It was a fantasy she had to push to the side.

Tom could practically smell her once she walked in. It was her normal perfume that had been intensified 10 fold. He refuses to turn around, afraid that if he did all his good heart nature would go out the window. Tom could hear the faint clinking of the heels of her shoes walk up the stairs. He so desperately wanted them to come right back down.

"Okay, as you know, you're assignment is due in 2 weeks and this is going to be the only time I will answer your questions," Tom's voice boomed. He hadn't got a lot of sleep since that night and he didn't particularly want to do this but he considered himself a kind professor, so he had too.

He turned around and saw the entire class' hands go straight up in the air. Including y/n, though hers was a little lower. Her eyebrow raised and a small smirk painted on her lips. There was no way in hell he was answer whatever question came out of those pretty lips. She looked even more exquisite than when he last saw her. A tight t-shit that had a stained 50's logo on it and a pair of tight black jeans, he knew as soon as he spoke to her, he would loose all control on himself.

So he never did, constantly dodging her. Answering every single question, even if half of them were if he was married or worse if he was free Friday night. He will admit, seeing y/n get frustrated every time he passed her to talk to another young female student made him just that tad bit excited.

It was an hour and a half of pure tension. Sure, no one else in the class could feel it but they 100% could. She never felt more out of control and for some reason, she despised it. He kept ignoring her, kept refusing her, kept defying her. It was infuriating, that she wanted to take fate by the hair.

She waited, until every single soul had walked out of the door. She waited until the last gaggle of girls had finished their blabbering to Tom before she starting to strut down the stairs. Tom refused to meet her eyes even when he knew that's all she did. Glare at him as she stomped past him desk to the classroom door. He heard it lock.

"I wanted to ask you a question," she almost spat, "sir."

Tom straightened himself before swivelled around to meet her. She was so livid with him but he knew deep down that all she wanted from him was to have the white chalk from the board rubbed up her back from him pinning her down.

"Fire away," he responded exactly the same. She stared at him for a moment before strolling towards him. She made sure to swing her hips every other time. She noticed his eyes on her, finally she was getting somewhere.

y/n pressed her chest upon his heaving one. Her face lifting to meet his. They stayed like that for a good minute, just pondering. They listened to each other's heats thumping against their rib cages. They both desperately needed this.

Never taking her eyes off him, y/n snaked her hand around the side of pocket of her coat, smiling once she found what she left. Her soaked red thong, it was a sight for sore eyes.

"I wanted to ask if I was every going to get payback?" she giggled softly. Tom knew she was playing a game but he had no idea which one it was.

"I don't think I understand," he stammered, she strutted away from him until she met the edge of his stainless desk. Her fingers gliding over the wood ever so slightly. She turned her head to look at him. She had a rawness in her eyes; lustful, a sinner's stare. It would be a look Tom was never forget for the rest of his life.

y/n suddenly jumped on the desk. Her ass moving the papers to the side as she slowly started to unbutton her tight jeans. "I think you do," it was almost a hiss but he only heard the desperation in her voice. "I want you to make me feel all the things you did that night."

Tom almost fainted just with that until she dropped her jeans the floor. She had come to class without any underwear on and her wetness was dripping onto the desk. Tom was sure was in heaven but he didn't want to believe it.

He got on his knees. His hands palming at her soft thighs. Tom didn't need another incentive, he didn't need another spur-on. Tom licked a single strip up her folds, y/n bit a moan back. It was like tasting ambrosia or doing cocaine for the first time. He needed more, so he went back in again, this time it was rougher. His fingers gripping at her ass, pulling her closer to his mouth as he devoured as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. Her hands tangle themselves in his floppy curls, she tugs harshly on his scalp as he adds a finger into her warm entrance.

Tom's never felt like this before but he doesn't care. He's sure people can hear her soft but frantic moaning from outside, but he doesn't care. He'll never look at his desk the same way but like everything else, he doesn't fucking care. Tom curls his fingers in the perfect spot inside of her.

"Just like that," y/n calls out, her hair now sprawled out on the desk. "I'm going to cum sir."

Tom feels her walls contract around his fingers as he pulsing faster, her back arches and she trying so hard to force her cries back into her throat. It's a sight he wants to from above, it's a feeling he wants to feel inside of her. So, at the last minute, he retracts everything. His tongue leaves her throbbing clit and his finger, which are glistening with her slick, slid out of her.

y/n can't hold back to whine that leaves her left from the loss of his god-like tongue and fingers. "What the fuck Tom?!" she's angry with him, she wants to tell him off but before she can do it. One of his hands captures her wrist and slams them against the desk below her, pinning her to it. She whimpers at the sting of pain.

He's right above her but she can't see a single thing below her. "Look at me," he tells her sternly, she does what's she is told instantly. "You can't talk to me like that sweetness," y/n knows there is a venom behind his words even if she speaks in a melody. "I'm not your fucking boyfriend, you don't call me that."

Without any warning at all, he pounds right up into her. y/n almost spasms out of Tom's grip from the wave of pleasure. Tom doesn't move at all, he stays nuzzled inside her. It's agonising, almost painful for y/n. Having his perfect cock not jamming into her tight cunt. It's torture.

"You understand that?" he peppers kissed against the nape of her neck, she's about to cry out, she'll do anything. She nods her head frantically, hoping it's enough. It isn't. He keeps his hips locked tightly against hers. "Words, sweetness."

"Yes," she responds. She can feel him frown against her skin. He pulls right out of her and rams right back in, causing y/n to scream out in pleasure. "Y-yes sir," she corrects herself and with that, Tom starts a pace. It's slow and tantalising, he watches amazed at how her pretty folds swallow him up with every thrust. It's magnificent.

He wants to savour this moment forever. He wants to fuck her brains out for every waking moment of his existence.

"Sir, go harder," she moans below him. Her wrists bruised from his gripped, but the pain just only contributes in her overwhelming amount of pleasure. His thick cock is so much better than her fingers, no matter how many she adds.

Tom obliges and starts to really pound into her cunt. It's raw and ruthless, he's calling out her name now. "Fuck sweetness, you so bloody tight," he purrs, y/n can't respond through her chant of curses. "You're little cunt was made for me, it was made for me to stretch it out."

The dirty talk elevates her, y/n's not sure how much longer she'll last. His filling ever last inch of her. She can feel her tits bounce every time their skin collides. Her wrists are finally let free as he begins to clutch at her naked hips. It's an experience she's never felt. The sound of skin slapping and their combined gasping and cursing are the only thing she can perceive to hear. If there was a knock at the door, y/n knows she would have no idea about it.

Perhaps, it's the pure excitement and morality of this whole situation that makes them both feel like they're on cloud nine. Her arms snake around his waist, her hands move with every rough thrust into her. She's gripping onto his back through the material of his tight shirt. Her nails clasping on the contracting muscles. She would have left his back red and sore if he didn't have the damned t-shirt on to protect him.

"Fuck," she curses as he started to hit an area inside of her, she never knew existed. "Just like that sir, I am going to cum," she moans, her forehead against his. They lock eyes again, this time though there is no linger feeling of want or romance. It's just sex. Dirty, hot, intense fucking.

She's the first to come undone. The fire now transformed into a raging wildfire spreading across her entire abdomen. y/n throws her head back in ecstasy, her whole vision goes black and she has to bit down against her hand to stop and inevitable pornographic scream to jump out of her mouth. Her other hand clutches his neck, pulling him closer to her.

Tom follows shortly after, his thrusts become sloppy and erratic but never easing up. His cock twitches inside of her before he shots the hot white liquid all inside of her cunt. He pressed his lips against her as his attempt to stop his moan as well but he continues to call out her angelic name against her lips. Once, Tom pulls out of her, he watches in awe. The mixture leaks out of her hole and then pools on his desk. He's so in love with this woman it hurts.

"I have never cum that hard in my entire fucking life," she giggles, pulling her top down her flushed tits. As he too, starts to redress himself, he simply stares at her. Watches her retrieve her jeans from the floor and slip them up her bare ass. He spots her shove her panties back into his back pocket, not before she scribbles something down on a torn piece of paper.

"What are you doing?" he asked gently, wrapping his arms around her waist. She nuzzles her face in the crook of her.

"I'm giving you a reason to come make me dinner and then fuck me again," she explains, "I put my address in there, so hopefully you can't get lost."

"You sure about this," Tom asked hesitantly, y/n now swivelled around to face him. Her warm palm caressed his face.

"I wouldn't have just done that if I wasn't," she places a soft, tender kiss to his cheek. "Make it a Thursday though, my roommate will be out on those nights," she told him as he grabbed the last of her things and unlocked the door. Tom grins warmly as she makes herself presentable for the last time. "I would clean that up if I were you," y/n laughed, pointing at the obvious mess all over his desk before quickly exiting.

As she wobbled back to her dorm, she wondered what article of clothing she should leave out on their next escapade.

━━★✼☆｡

a/n: this is gonna flop, i just fuckin know it 🥴 anways i hope you enjoyed my fic that has ended my hiatus. see you (hopefully) soon 🥺

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland smut #professor!tom #professor!tom holland #professor!au #tom holland x you #peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #marvel imagines #actor #actor smut #actor imagines #actor x you

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skyeventide · 3 years

Text

my trsb fic has so many notes to the text that they didn’t fit within the ao3 notes’ section character limit lmao, so here is the lengthier version of it. you can consider it a teaser I guess? but either way, I need some place to store these and link them back in the fic.

contents here, cut for length

on the matter of the mother of Gil-Galad

Celebrimbor’s names

shibbolething all over Thauron’s name

actual quotes and canon

On the matter of the mother of Gil-Galad

Meril-i-Turinqi is a Book of Lost Tales character, lady of Tol Eressea, kin of In(g)we but also similar to the Solosimpi, which is to say the Teleri.

The character of "Meril" on the other hand, is a proto-Amarie, Finrod's love interest. In the early draft of Meril's appearance, Finrod is married and is father of Gil-Galad: this draft is obviously discarded and Finrod becomes childless, while Meril transforms into Amarie, who does not join the exile. Gil-Galad is instead transferred to Orodreth, which iirc is Tolkien's last word on the matter (I don't count the Fingon thing as even canon-adjacent, ChrisT was quite clear in admitting the mistake). Now I recall Orodreth is said to be married to a Sinda; why did I discard that? Cause I initally forgot it. Rip to me and Orodreth.

However, what I had was: a proto-Amarie, who is a Vanya, and a BoLT character who is of the family of Ingwe (so a Vanya), but also like the Teleri (so of the third clan, even though not a Sinda). And so Meril-proto-Amarie became Meril-i-Turinqi, wife of Orodreth.

The full headcanon on Meril here would have her as daughter of a Vanya who is kin of Ingwe and of Telerin nobility (or royalty? they're all big on intermarrying between royal families), which fulfills both sides of the coin and also stays true to the statement that Elenwe is the sole full-Vanya to join the exile (I'm gonna assume this excludes any non-royalty followers). Now regarding the parentage of Orodreth, he is here son of Angrod, as I feel that is a better option in almost all respects. This poses some issues with regard to age, as I recall Orodreth-son-of-Angrod and Idril as being named the only two non-adults to do the journey to ME (again... this surely excludes any non-royalty youngsters, but nonetheless). Obviously these issues grow even further if one also includes the matter of Celebrimbor being Aman-born to a wife who doesn't follow Curufin (and therefore the matter of his age at the time of exile), but reconciling these versions is borderline impossible with how the origins of Celebrimbor keep changing throughout the conception of the legendarium.

Long story short, I up the age of Orodreth to be at least old enough to speak softly with Finarfin (here his grandfather) during the flight of the Noldor, but I have him already married though childless. Finduilas is born early into the exile and Gil-Galad is her younger brother.

Meril returns to Aman at the end of the First Age and rules Tol Eressea for the exiles who are stuck there until the Ban is fully lifted.

Celebrimbor's names

FN = father-name, MN = mother-name

I do not claim to have come up with "Tyelperinquar is an epesse", that headcanon, which nonetheless I'm sure happened separately for other people, is one I first read in a fic by Tyelperintal on AO3. That of course means that I could no longer go with the FN Curufinwe MN Tyelperinquar option, and needed another mother-name, which I also borrowed from the same story, and went for Ilvanon, "the perfect". It's pretty, and also speaks of a mix of high expectations and love.

What in this story made me accept the epesse headcanon is the matter of the origin of "T(y)elperinquar" as a name. Vinyar Tengwar (and most recently also NoME) explains how "silver fist" is a name common among the Teleri, famous for their ability to smith silver even among the Noldor, and it is also mentioned how other similar names, such as Tegilbor "calligrapher", are given to people based on their skill. This, however, directly contradicts the fact that elves don't give the same name to more than one person. That statement is problematic in itself (impossible that all elves across all time are aware of all names that ever have been used -- and also of course there's the usual royalty exceptions, that however may well be exceptions because they are royalty), but if it is a common name among the Teleri and we are to keep the duplicate names lore in mind... my only solution is that it's a coveted epesse, given to the very skilled.

Celebrimbor picks it as his chosen and preferred name over FN, already shared by two people and preferred as chosen name by his father, and the potential arrogance of picking his MN with its meaning.

This still led me to problems of both spelling and language choices.

As far as spelling goes, there's several variations. I'm marking with * the one that is not canonically attested, but can be inferred.

Pure Telerin: Telperimpar

Quenya-Telerin compound that maintains the Telerin spelling of silver: Telperinquar

As above, but shortened: Telpinquar

Pure Quenya: *Tyelperinquar

Pure Quenya, shortened: Tyelpinquar

I use all these except the last one at various stages: I decided (though I go back and forth on this) that his household might have used pure Quenya, and his mother sticks to it; the person in Tirion panicks and uses the shortened version Telpinquar, which together with Telperinquar (Telerin spelling maintained) was more common among the Noldor. The Tirion passage exemplifies the uses and applications of these names, how they were given and altered.

This leads me to problems of language and POV, Celebrimbor vs Tyelperinquar. His mother, in her POV, always uses the latter, but Celebrimbor himself uses the former. The true problem here was adapting my feeling that Celebrimbor would be far more used to thinking of himself as Celebrimbor (as opposed to the Quenya name) vs Tolkien's statement that elves do not use names in another language when speaking in X language. This doesn't stay wholly true through the legendarium and the texts, so it's something I've decided to partially ignore when it comes to POV, though I tend to stick to it in first person dialogue. Something that again I try to tackle in the text itself -- when Galadriel tells Celebrimbor which language to speak and which name to use for her.

I am not entirely satisfied with all my choices here and I might revisit them in the future, but for the moment, here we go.

Shibbolething all over Thauron's name

Another language and spelling headache. As I encountered the problem of Sauron, I encountered that of the spelling of his name: the eternal TH/S issue. Were I to have Celebrimbor's mother, and Celebrimbor himself, stick to the Shibboleth? I initially attempted to circumvent this by using Gorthaur, but the issue described just above, about mixing languages, yet again bit me in the ass.

Of course it comes down to characterisation: would Mrs Curufin stick to the Shibboleth, and would Celebrimbor? The matter with Celebrimbor was that I don't believe he spoke Quenya with any real frequency after the Nargothrond business, not as a choice but rather due to circumstances and preferences of those around him. With Ercasse, the conflict is part of the character, and that sadly meant that the TH/S choice became less of a personal choice and more of a political one, as usual.

That got me thinking about the circumstances around her and something interesting came to me: Finarfin spoke Quenya with the Shibboleth, because of the Teleri. And in the Darkening he becomes king in Tirion, and also has to adjust things with the Teleri -- not an easy task, imo, when he turns back only after the pronunciation of the Doom, and not just after the kinslaying occurred. Additionally, the Vanyar spoke preserving TH. Additionally x2, by the Fourth Age, Exilic Quenya (which uses S) is associated with those who rebelled and returned to Aman -- meanwhile any Sindar preserved TH naturally, as it's a sound that never went out of use in Sindarin.

So I chose to take these things and make something of it. If Finarfin maintains TH to keep the Telerin influence; if the Noldor who remain in Aman decide to step closer to the Vanyar in an anti-rebellion reactionary manner and to conform to the speech of the king; if Exilic Quenya gains the lower status of language of the exiles; and considering the canon fact that in later ages the elves are more likely to preserve language rather than change it -- what are our chances that Shibbolething gains opposite connotations as time passes? My conclusion was high chances. So I decided to implement it.

And so Ercasse doesn't have to think about her personal allegiances anymore and has a path built in for herself in these social changes. And Sauron is Thauron. (Unless Galadriel is talking: she doesn't Shibboleth, and uses “Sauron” and “Sindarin”.)

Quotes and canon

Many things I wrote are based on canon snippets. Here I tried to collect them.

On Celebrimbor and the mention of the bath of flames in his speech. It isn't, in fact, a corny lineage reference, but rather a metaphysical or pseudo-physical concept of purification from the Lost Tales:

Yet now the prayers of [their parents] came even to Manwe [the highest Valar], and the Gods had mercy on their unhappy fate, so that those twain Turin and Nienori entered into ... the bath of flame... and so were all their sorrows and stains washed away, and they dwelt as shining Valar among the blessed ones, and now the love of that brother and sister is very fair;

On the naming of Mithril (appears in the upcoming Nature of Middle Earth, as well as already published in Vinyar Tengwar):

[Celebrimbor] was a great silver-smith, and went to Eregion attracted by the rumours of the marvellous metal found in Moria, Moria-silver, to which he gave the name mithril.

On Celebrimbor's ambition and assorted choices, from Letter 131:

In the first we see a sort of second fall or at least ‘error’ of the Elves. There was nothing wrong essentially in their lingering against counsel, still sadly with the mortal lands of their old heroic deeds. But they wanted to have their cake without eating it. They wanted the peace and bliss and perfect memory of ‘The West’, and yet to remain on the ordinary earth where their prestige as the highest people, above wild Elves, dwarves, and Men, was greater than at the bottom of the hierarchy of Valinor. They thus became obsessed with 'fading’, the mode in which the changes of time (the law of the world under the sun) was perceived by them. They became sad, and their art (shall we say) antiquarian, and their efforts all really a kind of embalming – even though they also retained the old motive of their kind, the adornment of earth, and the healing of its hurts. […] But many of me Elves listened to Sauron. He was still fair in that early time, and his motives and those of the Elves seemed to go partly together: the healing of the desolate lands. Sauron found their weak point in suggesting that, helping one another, they could make Western Middle-earth as beautiful as Valinor. It was really a veiled attack on the gods, an incitement to try and make a separate independent paradise.

Legolas and Aragorn and my choice to use the word love:

"[...]Yet whatever is still to do, I hope to have a part in it, for the honour of the folk of the Lonely Mountain." "And I for the folk of the Great Wood," said Legolas, "and for the love of the Lord of the White Tree [Aragorn]."

Celebrimbor and the Elessar. It must be noted that this Celebrimbor is not Celebrimbor son of Curufin, but I still liked the tidbit of lore. From there my choice to have three different Elessar stones, one made by Feanor, one by Enerdhil of Gondolin, one by Celebrimbor (in the fic redressed to Celebrimbor son of Curufin, and without the romantic love for Galadriel):

But he did not say to Galadriel that he himself was of Gondolin long ago. Therefore he took thought, and began a long delicate labour, and so for Galadriel he made the greatest of his works (save the Three Rings only).And it is said that more subtle and clear was the green gem that he made than that of Enerdhil, but yet its light had less power. For whereas that of Enerdhil was lit by the Sun in its youth, already many years had passed ere Celebrimbor began his work, and nowhere in Middle-earth was the light as clear as it had been, for though Morgoth had been thrust out into the Void and could not enter again, his far shadow lay upon it.Radiant nonetheless was the Elessar of Celebrimbor; and he set it within a great brooch of silver in the likeness of an eagle rising upon outspread wings.

On the vale and the stream where Formenos is located, I utilised this passage from Lost Tales:

[...] here the entire people of the Noldoli are ordered to leave Kor for the rugged dale northwards where the stream Híri plunged underground, and the command to do so seems to have been less a punishment meted out to them by Manwe than a pre-caution and a safeguard. In connection with the place of the banishment of the Noldoli, here called Sirnúmen ('Western Stream') [...]

Relevant LotR quotes about the Eregion passages, used for soil description extrapolations and other elements:

Suddenly Gimli, who had pressed on ahead, called back to them. He was standing on a knoll and pointing to the right. Hurrying up they saw below them a deep and narrow channel. It was empty and silent, and hardly a trickle of water flowed among the brown and redstained stones of its bed; but on the near side there was a path, much broken and decayed, that wound its way among the ruined walls and paving-stones of an ancient highroad. ‘Ah! Here it is at last!’ said Gandalf. ‘This is where the stream ran: Sirannon, the Gate-stream, they used to call it. But what has happened to the water, I cannot guess; it used to be swift and noisy. Come! We must hurry on. We are late.’ [...] "...there is a wholesome air about Hollin. Much evil must befall a country before it wholly forgets the elves, if once they dwelt there." "That is true", said Legolas. "But the Elves of this land were of a race strange to us of the silvan folk, and the trees and the grass do not now remember them: Only I hear the stones lament them: deep they delved us, fair they wrought us, high they builded us; but they are gone. They are gone. They sought the Havens long ago."

More TBA if anything comes to mind.

#writing stuff #trsb21

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lucyjay · 3 years

Text

Silver (b.bh)

||You and Baekhyun have been friends for the past couple years. What happens when you both develop feelings for each other but no one has the courage to admit it?

Genre: smut (a bit of fluff)

Warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, teasing, unprotected sex ( balloon your baboons fellahs), dirty talk, oral sex, fingering, cum play, throat fucking, hair pulling, multiple orgasms

Words: 6.5k

You throw a final look at your reflection in the mirror and sigh. I look like shit, you think to yourself and make your way to the bathroom to finish straightening your hair. The last thing you are in the mood for is clubbing but guess who won’t take no for an answer?your friend Nat who borderline blackmailed you into either joining her and your friends tonight or finding all your embarrassing high school photos displayed on your insta tomorrow morning.

After managing to make your hair not look like you got out of a cat fight, you put on some make up which for you consists of 3 simple steps. Step 1, hiding the black shopping bags that jewel your under eyes, Step 2, some blush so that you don’t resemble a ghost and Step 3, mascara. The final result looks better than you anticipated when you started getting ready over an hour ago.

A simple black baggie-t’shirt style dress, a pair of black boots, your straight hair naturally hugging your shoulders, falling all the way down to your waist and last your make up which thank god hides the fact that you’ve worked a total of 60 hours this week. It’s a nice, fresh spring night and you reckon you’d be okay without a jacket on. You throw your keys, phone and credit card in a small bag and make your way out of your apartment. Your find your uber already waiting for you outside the main entrance of the building, you jump in and decide to give your friend a call to check if they are already at the club.

“Hola”, her high pitched voice makes you chuckle, she still sounds like a 5 year old girl just like when you first met her.

“Hola. Sooo, I’m on my way, I should be there in like 20′ max. Who else is coming? Please tell me Sehun and Taeyong will be there? Taeyong promised he would make time if i joined you”, you protest already used to one of your best friends, Taeyong canceling on you lastminute.com because of work.

“They are already with me babe and we should reach the club in 10′ or so. Sara and Jaebum are coming as well, Bam is DJ’ing, oh and ahm”, she pauses and your heart starts racing subconsciously knowing what she is about to say. “..Baekhyun is coming”. You swear at her for not letting you know earlier and she mumbles apologies which leave you completely untouched.

“Nat, you did it on purpose”, you try to keep your tone calm only because your uber driver is already giving you some “lady keep your voice down” looks through the rear mirror.

“I didn’t but even if I did so what? We are all friends and it’s completely childish of both of you to put us in a position where we have to go out with each of you separately. Bam is worried and Sehun is having abandonment issues”, she whines dramatically and you hear Sehun in the background screaming, “I just want my friends back, oh god, please”, a fake cry following his oscar-worthy performance as you hear Taeyong burst into laughter a bit further in the background.

“Ok ok! I don’t care. I’m done playing his little games anyway. I wanna drink and have fun. See you in a bit”, you reply and hang up. The uber has reached the city centre and your gaze in boring outside the window looking at the people and the buildings but not really paying attention to anything. All you can think about is him. How things have completely gone to shit when they were so promising. You and Baekhyun met a a couple years ago when he started hanging out with Sehun who he met at work. The latest then brought him into your group and he clicked with all of you straight away.

Fast forward to a a few months ago, you were at one of BamBam’s house parties chilling and chatting away when he confessed that he likes you and he has been into you since the day he met you catching you completely off guard. You, having been crushing on the boy since the moment you laid your eyes on him, did what no 26 year old, sane woman would do and just bailed. Literally left him there, drink in hand, mouth hanging open in shock and you just left the house, got inside a taxi and went home. You were so embarrassed over your reaction and disappointed in yourself for ruining the perfect chance to be with the biggest crush you’ve had since middle school, that you couldn’t even bring yourself to message an apology to him. A few days later you all met at a cafe and that’s when it started. He was so cold and sulky towards you and who could blame him? But he was overdoing it to the point that it started pissing you off. You couldn’t get him to talk to you alone and eventually managed to get you to not stand being with him in the same room. Every time you met since then, it was just a verbal war between the two of you, full of sneaky insults and hurtful jokes with a drizzle of swear words and some whipped sarcasm on top.

“It’s just one night out. How bad can it get?”, you whisper only for your own ears to hear you. The uber slows down outside the club, you thank your driver and step out of the vehicle, gently closing the door behind you. The queue for the club isn’t too long and you can spot Nat,Tae and Sehun waiting on the left side where the VIP queue is forming. Sehun waves at you eagerly and you make your way to their direction.

“At least she is wearing a dress and not pyjamas”, Sehun teases and lifts you up in a hug that made you almost gasp for air.

“I am overworked, not lame. I now how to dress for a night out”, you spit back faking annoyance and the younger boy raises his hands in defence.

“Tough week at work?”, Taeyong asks as all four of you walk towards the entrance of the club.

“Everybody decided to get married at the end of summer apparently, so considering that I have to organise 9 weddings within the next 4 months, I would say tough year.”, you pause and your eyes follow the direction Taeyong is looking at and...there he is. Locking his car dressed like a bloody model straight out of a Vogue photoshoot. Black jeans, loose blue shirt, a silk navy blue scarf around his neck and a pair of black boots. “...and it’s not about to get better”, you finish your sentence.

Him being ridiculously attractive should have been something you were used to by now, but you haven’t seen him in almost a month and in all honesty you almost forgot how easily he makes your entire body go numb just by standing there not even looking at you. Too lost in your own thoughts you haven’t noticed him standing next to you greeting the others, ‘till he turns his attention to you. His hair is silver. Fuck him and his ability to look good in everything. Fuck him and his gorgeous face, you think to yourself.

“Your hair is longer”, he says in the most indifferent tone. Is this his idea of a greeting? Asshole, you think.

“Your hair is bloody silver”, you reply, your eyes not leaving his. He serves you a slight side smile and you can feel the insides of your palms getting sweaty.

“Looks good doesn’t it?”, he throws a rhetorical question not really waiting for an answer. You tsk and roll your eyes at him while quickly turning to get inside the club. BamBam was near the entrance to greet you and show you which table he reserved for you and your friends. You follow him and he leaves you shortly after to go and prepare his station for his set next to the man currently DJ’ing.

“I’m gonna go get drinks, what do you want?”, Baekhyun asks the rest of you.

“Let’s just get a bottle”, Nat proposes and you nod. “tequila or Vodka?”, she asks.

“Tequila”, you and Baekhyun shout in unison and you turn to look at each other. Are the lights in here making him look even more attractive or is it just you being horny for him? You give yourself a mental slap.

“Tequila is good”, Sehun adds. Baekhyun makes his way to the bar and Nat moves to your side, leaning next to your ear so that she doesn’t need to scream on top of the music.

“Make a move”, she says and you almost choke on your own spit.

“Are you insane? Haven’t you been around lately? I guess not. Let me fill you in. In the last episode of Season 2, he hates me. End of story”, you reply and she chuckles.

“He doesn’t hate you. He is just still hurt by your reaction back then. And you are clearly into him. Like, it’s clear like the sun. Like, I can see you undressing him with your eyes. I could legit-...”

“That’s enough! I got your point”, you cut her off and really wish Baek could get his ass there already cause you swear you would love to down that entire bottle of tequila right now.

“Babe, talk to him. It’s a shame. You have had feelings for each other for so long. You can’t just..leave it.”, she says and her tone is soothing and understanding. You turn to look at her and nod causing her to smile widely and clap her hands like a little kid who just got her birthday gift. A minute later Baek shows up with two bottles of tequila inside a bucket and a waitress follows right behind him with a tray full of glasses and ice which she lays on your table.

A few drinks down and you find yourself relaxed enough to be dancing with Taeyong like there’s no tomorrow, rocking some crazy moves perfectly nsync with BamBam’s wild beats. Taeyong’s hands are on your waist and you rest your head on his shoulder, your back against his chest as you sing every single lyric of the song currently blasting.

“I need another drink”, he screams over the music. You nod and make your way to the table where you find Nat and Sehun talking to Jaebum and Sara, a couple Nat met whilst on holidays in Japan, who happened to be from the same city as the rest of you. You chat with them for a few minutes, sipping on your drink when you realise you haven’t seen Baekhyun since returning to the table. After scanning the area around you, your gaze falls on Nat’s who mouths a silent “outside” to you, as if she has read your thoughts. You excuse yourself and make your way through the intoxicated crowd, eventually reaching the exit of the club. You step on the pavement and look up and down both directions to see if you can spot Baek. On the left side of the doors, a few meters away you can distinguish a frame that looks like him. You slowly make your way towards the man and after a few steps you can see his face clearer under the dull lighting the lamppost covers the corner of the street with. He was staring at the ground, cigarette in between his index and middle finger. You clear your throat and he turns to look at you.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t see you”, he says calmly, taking a puff of his cigarette, quickly letting a line of smoke out of his nostrils.

“You smoke”, you say and it’s more like a realisation and less like a question. Your stare drifts off of his face and down to his feet as if his shoes are the most interesting thing to you.

“Yes, got a problem with that?’, he turns to look at you and you raise your head to meet his eyes. You can’t read him. You never could. He looks unbothered yet sounds annoyed. It’s so frustrating and you swear at yourself for even thinking of approaching him. You scoff and turn to leave, sure that you’re clearly not wanted there.

“That’s the second time”, he says and his voice is low but you can sense a weak scent of irony lingering at the end of his word. You stop in your trucks and turn to face him.

“What was that?”, you ask.

“It’s the second time you walk away from me. There won’t be a third”, his statement catches you off guard but you’re not planning on letting him see the affect his words have on you.

“I suppose you came out here to get some air, I wanted to check if you’re alright but you’re clearly not up for a chat. Am I wrong for thinking that the best thing to do was to excuse myself?”, you regret the slight sarcasm in your words which was completely unintended. His attention lands on your face. There’s at least 2 meters distance between yourself and him but for some reason you feel like you’re suffocating. His presence is so strong that you can’t even think straight. Without taking his eyes off of yours, he throws his cigarette somewhere to the side and with two steps he is standing right in front of you. You can smell the smoke on him but it doesn’t bother you; his cologne in combination with his addictive natural scent are enough to make your head hazy. He shouldn’t be able to affect you like this.

“Excuses”, his voice comes out like a loud whisper and you feel embarrassed at how it makes your entire lower body go numb and the sensitive area between your legs pulsate. His stare is so heavy that it almost makes you feel small. He moves a bit closer to you and you can almost feel his body touching yours.

“Baekhyun, I’m...”, your voice fades out unable to complete the sentence. Your eyes still on his like magnets. You can’t see anything around you but him.

“Finish your sentence Y/N”, he says calmly. You gather all the courage you could before you allow the confessions that you have been battling all these months, come out. It’s so hard but you know you have to. You have to give it a shot.

“I’m sorry. For that day.”, you say and his features rest in a slight shock which only encourages you to continue.

“I’m sorry i left you like that and that I didn’t explain myself. I’m sorry that I never called you after what happened. But what I’m not sorry about is what happened afterwards. You were so mean to me and you refused to talk to me. Your behaviour was horrible and I don’t take back anything I’ve said to you every time we fought”. You swear your knees are about to give out and your breathing is so heavy that you can feel your chest rising and falling as if you were running. You heart beating in your head is making you dizzy and you pray that you won’t just faint right there and then.

“You don’t regret anything you’ve said to me all the times we fought?”, he asks and you feel a pinch of annoyance that this was the only part of your paragraph long monologue he chose to focus on.

“Nothing. You started every single fight”, your statement came out strong and your voice way too stable given your current state. You congratulate yourself in your head. As if that was even possible, Baekhyun steps even closer to you, now trapping you between his body and the wall. You can feel his torso pushing yours backwards only for the back of your waist to land on his right hand, his left one resting on the wall slightly brushing your cheek.

“I swear I would take you against this fucking wall just to shut this annoying mouth of yours”, his lips almost touching yours. You can feel his breath on your face and his words wake the butterflies in your stomach. You’re mad at yourself for feeling so weak under his stare. It takes you a few seconds to realise that you have been holding in a breath. You just stand there, frozen, eyes glued on his honey brown ones when the words roll out of your tongue without second thought.

“Why don’t you then?”, you speak in a low voice that even gives you goosebumps. Your boldness surprises him and he shakes his head.

“I shouldn’t. I-..”

“Excuses”, you cut him off and you catch him so off guard that if it wasn’t for you being an absolute mess right now, his shocked stare would have had you chuckling. He raises his hand to caress your cheek and the way his knuckles softly touch your skin makes your entire body shiver. He doesn’t allow you to let the sudden skinship action sink in when he tilts his head only to rest his forehead against yours.

“I don’t know what to do with you anymore. Please tell me Y/N. Just tell me what you want”, he pleads and the entirety of your body heat is now resting on your face. You have never seen Baekhyun like this, basically asking you to take the upper hand. You rest your arms on his and connect your hands behind his neck.

“I want you Baekhyun. I don’t even remember how it was not to want you.”, you inhale and the air entering your nostrils feels too hot “...let’s go back to yours.Or mine, I don’t care”. The moment you finished your sentence Baekhyun’s hand was on yours, already guiding you towards the direction of his car. He open the door for you to get in and a second later he jumps in the driver’s seat.

Baekhyun’s eyes are glued on the road and his grip on the wheal is strong. You take a minute to examine his side profile and your eyes linger on each of his beautiful features. His beautiful honey-brown eyes, his straight nose and his soft, pink lips that are currently pressed into a thin line as if he is trying hold back a river of words threatening to fall out. Your hands are resting on your thighs which you’re pressing together in a desperate attempt to ease the buzzing in your lower area. You are already so embarrassingly wet, even though Baek hasn’t even touched you, which makes you realise how wrong all your past partners must have been treating you. Not able to stand the distance between the two of you, you place your hand on top of his right thigh, slowly dancing your fingers up and down the area. He shakes his head, momentarily closing his eyes only to open them a second later. His stare is intense but you can’t read it properly.

“Babe...”, he says and your hand movement stops at the sound of the nickname. Feeling more aroused by the second, you bend slightly over so that your lips are brushing against his ear.

“What...babe?”, you tease and he grips the wheel with such strength that it looks like he is trying to break it in half.

“Finish your sentence Baek”, you continue and at this point you know you’re playing with fire. He turns to give you a look for a split second, his eyes filled with something unknown to you and a slight smirk is gracing his beautiful lips.

“Sit back properly, take off your underwear and open your legs.”, you’re looking at him, eyes wide open in shock. His habit of bossing you around would normally have you ignoring his ass, maximum serving him an eyeroll as a response, but now it’s different. Your brain hasn’t even had the time to comprehend the possible consequences of his request, when you find your hands slowly sliding the sides of your underwear down your legs. Before you manage to even speak a word, his slender fingers are caressing the inside of your thighs and you throw your head back, eyes shut in an attempt to keep yourself under control. His middle finger and index travel all the way to your sensitive area and you let out a low gasp when you feel them on your heat.

“Holy fuck...”, he says and inserts one finger inside your throbbing pussy. You moan out his name as his digit is hitting you exactly on the right spot and you can’t see it but there’s a victory smile resting on his lips.

“Baek wait...”, you try to complain but it’s in vain. He adds a second finger and while keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel, driving almost at 150 km/h, he is steadily bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. You turn your head to the side, your eyes linger on his frame when you start feeling a knot forming on the lower part of your abdomen. You gather all the strength left in your body to lift your arm and tangle your fingers with his silver locks, slightly pulling his head backwards. He hisses and fastens the tempo of his fingers, his palm now coming in contact with your clit. You know you aren’t going to last long. Your walls start pulsating around his skilful digits and the car stops at a red light which finally allows him to focus his attention on you for at least a few seconds.

“I can’t wait to feel you clenching around my dick baby”, he says and you can feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm.

“Does my baby like dirty talk?”, he teases you and you pull his hair a tad stronger than before.

“I want you to come before the light turns green, you have approximately..”, he pauses to calculate the other traffic lights at the crossing, “...10-15 seconds?”, he adds driving his fingers in and out your pussy at a frenzy rhythm. You can’t handle the tension anymore.

“Baek, I can’t-...”, you swear you could cry with all this tension gathered on your lower body. You’re so close you can sense your orgasm.

“9..”, he says, his eyes piercing yours.

“Fuck, no I can’t”, you close your eyes, trying to control your body. It’ll be too much, you don’t want to come here in his car.

“Open your eyes and look at me. 6″, he counts and you do as you’re told. His palm hitting your sensitive clit is sending vibrations all the way to your head and you swear you wouldn’t be able to spell out your own name at this moment if you had to.

“I’m so close, I’m- Baek please...’, you whine and you can feel your walls clenching like crazy, swallowing his fingers. He places his other hand around your neck, squeezing gently and you’re a goner. Your orgasm crushes through you like fireworks and you can’t stop yourself from grinding down against his fingers, greedily trying to ride the explosive feeling out.

“That’s my girl”, he flashes you a satisfied smile and removes his fingers from your pussy at once. You grimace at the loss of contact but you’re too occupied trying to gather your thoughts and get yourself together, to pay further attention. The car is already on the move and before you can fathom what’s happening, he is parking in front of a building. Your eyes feel heavy but only at the thought of what’s coming, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten again. Baek steps out of the car and opens the door for you. You take a second to put your underwear back on, and you step outside the vehicle likewise. He locks it and starts walking towards the entrance of the block of flats before you, his hand in yours as your steps shadow his. You walk up the stairs and stop at the first floor. He stands outside a door and takes out his keys to unlock it when he turns to face you for the first time since he had you coming all over his fingers in his car.

“Before we get in I need to tell you something”, he warns and his eyes are examining your face. You step closer to him, your arm brushing against his.

“What is it Baek?”, your voice sounds so sweet and the way you say his name has him melting.

“If we do this, there’s no disappearing in the morning. There’s no going back to how things were. If you don’t want to stay and if you don’t want to be with me, leave now. This can’t be a one-time thing for me. That’s not what I want.”, he takes a deep breath as if he just gave the most important speech of his life. Your mouth hangs open at his sudden confession and you feel a stink of guilt that you’ve made him so uneasy; scared that you would run away from him and disappear. You grab his keys and unlock the door which opens wide in front of you. You step inside his flat and turn your head to face him.

“Do you prefer eggs or pancakes for breakfast?”, you ask him while taking off your shoes. He steps in and shuts the door behind him. Walking backwards you start unbuttoning your dress, “...I prefer something sweet in the morning to be honest”, you’re teasing and you reach the last button. You take another step backwards and you can feel his eyes burning on you. He is following each step you take, mirroring your movements now taking off his shirt. You let the dark fabric of your dress fall down your body and pool around your ankles. Baekhyun stops in his tracks, half naked and the lust in his eyes could make you come right there and then. You are about to take another step backwards when he nods you negatively.

“Don’t move”, the words come out as a soft command and you listen, standing there only in your lace black underwear, looking at him basically begging him to do something. He hasn’t even kissed you. He is the only man that has given you an orgasm without touching you anywhere else, not even a peck on the lips. He takes his time roaming his gaze along your body, his eyes resting on your breasts a second longer.

“I want you to kiss me”, you let out before you realise the words leaving your mouth. He focuses his attention back on your face and your body is about to burst from the need to feel him closer in any way. He is slowly walking towards you while taking off his trousers, leaving his body now covered only by his black boxers.

“Your entire face is blushing, you’ve been squeezing your thighs together, your breathing is unsteady and you’re giving me blowjob eyes”, hie finishes his sentence when standing a breath away from you. “...you want me to do more than just kiss you baby”, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding in and he smiles. He is so infuriating standing there, laughing at the misery he has put you in. You can’t let him play you like this.

“If you think you can..-”

“Shut up”, he says and you can’t tell who initiated it but his lips are on yours, kissing and biting as if your mouth is the last source of air and he needs it to survive. His right hand finds purchase on your ass, squeezing tightly pushing you closer to his body and his other hand grabs the back of your head, deepening the kiss. You can feel your underwear sticking on your dump heat and you squeeze your legs together trying to give yourself some comfort. Baekhyun breaks the kiss, bringing his lips next to your ear.

“Is my baby wet?Again?”, he cooes and you wanna smack him across the face because he fucking knows you are.

“Yes I am, and if you don’t do something about it soon I’m gonna have to get myself off”, you lilt and turn to enter his room. It’s way cosier than you would have imagined, with a queen size bed in the middle. You seat at the edge of it and you open your legs as seductively as you can, covering the fact that they’re shivering in anticipation. He enters the room and his eyes are darker than before, his erection clearly visible through his boxers making your mouth water. You cock an eyebrow at him but he doesn’t move. That’s it, you can’t waste anymore time waiting for him to do something. You get up and get on your knees in front of him, removing his underwear with a single movement before you place your palm around his shaft.

“What the fuck Y/N”, he breathes out and his knees turn weak under your touch.

“I’m done waiting for you Byun. Took you 2 years to kiss me. I can’t imagine how long it’ll take you to fuck me”, he is about to protest when you lean forward, putting his dick in your mouth, your nose against his lower belly. His complain turns into a moan when he throws his head back, hands now landing in your hair, pulling slightly. Your lips move around his member, followed by your tongue, hand resting on his balls slightly massaging them. You lick a long stripe from the base of his dick, all the way to the end while pressing your lips around it and then release it with a slight ‘pop’. A string of saliva connecting your mouth with his tip. You open your eyes only to find his intense stare already on your frame, cheeks on fire and mouth agape in an attempt to inhale as much air as he can.

“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you look right now? I swear I would do anything, anything you want If I could only see you like this everyday”, his voice cracks at the last words and he is slightly releasing his grip on your hair. Your hand still working its way up and down his dick, you tilt your head onwards to give small kitty licks on his tip. You take his hand and while serving him a cheeky smile you place it so that his fingers are cupping the upper part of your neck, right under your jaw. It takes him a moment to understand what you’re thinking and when it hits him, he lets out a desperate breath. You move your chin in front of his dick, lips almost touching his slit currently dripping with pre-cum.

“Apologise for being an asshole these last few months”, you spit.

“Fuck you”. The moment the words slip his lips you open your mouth, taking him so deep that you can feel his tip touching the back of your throat. He moans out your name and you feel your pussy pulsating in the sound. It takes all the self control you can manifest in order to not sneak your fingers inside your knickers and relieve some of the tension.

“I can feel my dick down your throat baby, agh fuck”, he hisses and pulls your hair as you take him as deep as you can once again only that this time you keep him there, swallowing again and again with his dick buried as deep as your throat can take it. A tear rolls down your face and your gag reflex is threatening to kick in, but you refuse to let go before he begs.

“Fuck Y/N, please. please stop, I don’t wanna cum. Fuck please, don’t-”, you release him and you snap him your best victory smile. after whipping your mouth with the back of your palm. You get up and move towards the bed, this time laying on top of it.

“I think I prefer you begging than apologising”, you tease and an unintentional giggle follows.

“You fucking bitch”, he spits jokingly and you burst into laughter but it doesn’t last long. The next moment he is hovering on top of you, lips on yours, hands cupping every curve of your body unable to hold back anymore. He is devouring your neck, jaw and moves lower to leave dark marks on your breasts. In a swing movement he unclips your bra, throwing it behind him next to his long forgotten underwear. Your underwear is next and before you know it, his face is resting between your legs, blowing tiny waves of air on your heat, driving you crazier if that was even possible at this point. He plants small kisses around the area, next to your folds while his hands are massaging the inside of your thighs. Your head falls back to meet his soft pillow and you moan out his name, incapable of hiding the mess he has made of you. Without any warning his soft tongue crushes on your burning area, devouring you as if you were his last meal. Your head is now a foggy mess, hands tangled between his silver locks unconsciously pushing him against your pussy, desperate for more friction. He rests his tongue on your sensitive bud of nerves, dancing in slow circles when he enters two digits in you causing you to let out the most animalistic moan you’ve ever heard yourself producing. Your reaction was the confirmation he was seeking, as his tongue picks up its pace and so do his fingers, his name rolls off your tongue like a cursed poem, again and again until you can feel yourself falling off the edge. He lands a last kiss on your pubic bone as he slowly climbs up your body, now hovering above you. You open your eyes, realising you had them wide shut all this time, only to find his beautiful brown ones staring at you in the most loving way you’ve ever had anyone looking at you.

“So pretty”, he whispers and his fingers linger on your lips and make their way to your cheek where he leaves a shy kiss. You can feel his dick between your legs, yours thrown around his waist and you just stay there, in silence looking in each others eyes. You bring your hand to the side of his jaw only to pull him closer, planting a kiss on his lips. It’s not deep; it’s soft, and sweet, almost romantic. You break it after a few seconds and you rest your forehead on his. A word is about to escape your lips when he frantically drives his length inside you, hitting your g spot so hard that you almost choke at your own gasp.

“Baek, fuck”, you whine. He doesn’t say anything, he only pulls out a little bit and then thrusts back in, hitting that sweet spot that has you seeing stars. He does it again and again and again and you are a moaning mess, head thrown back, his diving in the crook of your neck, sucking, bitting, leaving purple spots in every area he can get his lips on.

“You want me to stop?”, he says out of breath without slowing down at the slightest. You attack his lips and the kiss is nothing like the one you just shared a few moments ago. It’s hungry and desperate and your tongues are fighting for dominance, both your mouths swallowing each others moans. You can feel your pussy throbbing around his dick and you know you wont last long. Baekhyun breaks the kiss but stays close so that his lips can still touch yours.

“Are you close baby? You want to cum? Want to come all over my dick?”, he breathes out and you moan out his name, paralysed under his touch.

“Baek I’m close-I’m gonna..”, a circular move of his hips almost brings you to the brink and you moan out cusses with no meaning. You clench around him once more and he lets out a loud groan.

“Y/N If you do that one more time I won’t be able to hold back. Please”, he pleads and you can see that he is trying to hold back so that you can finish first. His dick fucking into you at a relentless pace has your arms pulling his body closer to yours, nails digging in his back and you know these scratches will be visible for next few days.

“Baek I can’t hold it, please”, you moan out.

“Let go baby, let go. Cum for me”, he whispers next to your ear and there’s nothing in the world you want more than to feel him painting your insides with his orgasm.

“Cum inside Baek, Please, cum with me, ah-”, your orgasm hits you mid-sentence and you clench again and again as it keeps attacking your body in waves. After a couple thrusts you can feel him releasing into you as he lets his body collapse on top of yours, both of you battling to calm your breathing.

“I blame you for missing on the best sex I’ve ever had for the past two years”, you tease him softly and he chuckles. You raise your hand to place a stray hair behind his ear and you can’t help but notice the slight rosiness on his cheeks. ‘what?’, you ask flushing him your warmest smile.

“Be mine?”, his lets out as he rubs his nose against the tip of yours. Your heart skips a bit and a wave of warmth crushes through you, for you haven’t felt so happy in a long, long time.

“Hm, nope, thanks”, you giggle and you kiss him. He is taken aback by your reply, staring at you with eyes wide open like a frightened deer caught in the headlights.

“I’m joking baby”, you spit and burst into laughter.

“You bitch”, he laughs.

216 notes · View notes

bbrandy2002 · 3 years

Text

Fearless

Chapter 2: Take My Hand And Drag Me Headfirst

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing: Prince/King Liam x MC (Riley Brooks), Drake Walker x OC (Alyssa Devereaux)

Series Premise: Riley Brooks and Alyssa Devereaux became best friends as freshmen at Syracuse University, a borderline-sisterhood that lasts forever after. When Riley meets a handsome prince and is asked to compete for his hand in a mysterious faraway kingdom, she invites Alyssa along for moral support.

What the girls think will be a crazy temporary adventure becomes two sets of happily ever afters … with twice the shenanigans to show for it.

A/N: This series is written in loving collaboration between @bbrandy2002 and @burnsoslow.

Series Warnings: Smut 🍋🍋, language, canon violence (gun violence, bombing, terrorism), drug use, probably more stuff as we think of it. By reading this series, you agree that you are at least 18 years old and are prepared to deal with adult themes.

Thank you @burnsoslow for the beta and putting some of your magical finishing touches where needed.

Chapter 3 will be written by @burnsoslow , I’m so excited for that!!

___________________________

Propped against the railing of the rear deck of a small tugboat in the middle of the Hudson River, the warmth of Liam’s arms wrapped around her from behind, Riley thought back to the words Daniel spoke to her earlier about fairytales and happy endings. Maybe it was the hope in his voice she needed to hear during a vulnerable moment to lift her spirits, but she was really starting to believe them herself.

The newly fired, down-on-her-luck Riley Brooks had left the Tapped Out Bar with a mysterious man that she plowed over during an escape from rats while taking out the garbage. A little while later, she accidentally attacked him again in the alleyway of her former employment with her sad little stick. They struck up a conversation, and through some awkward stalling on his part, he finally worked up the nerve to ask her out for a drink.

Riley wasn’t someone who normally took off with random guys she just met to flit about the city, but there was just something about Liam that was different -- that was special.

Call it intuition. An inclination. Instinct or inkling. Whatever it was, was a possibility. Of what? That remained to be seen.

After talking to his friends about his plans, and at her behest, the pair headed west on foot until they reached a busy late-night cafe that overlooked the choppy waters of the New York harbor. Sitting on the open deck, moonlight cascading off the ripples of the sea, a light jazz tune playing through the outdoor speakers, they talked for over an hour about everything and nothing, while sipping coffee and plucking at a large cinnamon roll they shared. It was the most Riley had spoken in a long time. When you live with and are friends with the more outgoing Alyssa, you learn to appreciate the fine art of listening. She spoke about her dads, her friends, places she traveled to and what not. All very light, casual conversation. Liam mentioned he had family, his country of origin, how much he was enjoying New York, but never revealed too much.

Not wanting to sound too whiny and pathetic, she stuck with the positive things in her life; she surprised even herself that there were a lot more than she realized. But he captivated her in a real way that made it so easy. Liam laughed with her and made her feel interesting and personable; maybe even desired.

And as the night carried on and the patrons of the cafe dwindled down, a Miles Davis tune began to play: “Blue and Green.” A bright smile tugged on the corner of Liam’s lips as he pushed his chair back and rose from the table to offer his hand. “My lady.”

Riley looked around the deck to see if anyone else was dancing -- they weren’t -- but how could she say no?

She didn’t want to say no.

Beside their little round table and under a string of hanging white pearly lights and garland, they slowly swayed together like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was chemistry in motion with every soft blare of the trumpet, rhythmic taps on the snare drum, and light pitter pats on a piano played in G major. The tempo was leisurely and elegant, creating the perfect ambience for the feelings that were stirring within them.

With her head resting snugly against his firm chest, the thrumming of his steadily-beating heart reverberating in her ear, Liam revealed, “I’m the Crown Prince of Cordonia, Riley.”

Never breaking their stride, Liam lifted one of her tiny arms in the air and twirled her around gracefully. Riley smiled up at him as they returned to formation; their hands intertwined between them. “And I’m one of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse.”

Liam laughed as they continued their gentle side-to-side movements. “I know it sounds crazy, but I’m not lying to you. Perhaps I should have been a little more upfront with you from the beginning, but I’m normally not allowed to go out without the Royal Guard.” He paused for a moment to lower her into a deep dip, sensually inhaling the perfumed scent around her decolletage, before pulling her back into his arms. “And I was only allowed out on the condition that I kept my identity a secret. But, just for one day … I wanted to be free.”

It was one of the most romantic nights Riley had ever experienced in her life, but as the music continued to play, their steps gliding in sync, she nuzzled her cheek against his firm body and responded, “You’re so full of shit.”

Liam pulled away, amused by her choice of words and disbelief. “After I told you all of that, you still think I’m lying?”

Riley shrugged. “I dunno.” She casually pulled out her chair under his watchful eye and sat down, crossing her legs. Lifting a coffee mug to her lips, she winced at its cold temperature, and the fact that she hated coffee. “So, I’m not really into the whole role-playing thing, but if you’re gonna be this ... Prince of Condomania, how about if I play the sultry villainess spy who comes to steal the treasures from your castle and you catch me in the act?” She batted her eyelashes and splayed her hands across her chest. “I will neva surrenda, Prince Liam. If you wont me, you’ll haf to take me right heya.” Riley animatedly flung her arms out and arched back over her chair.

Liam knit his brow. “What the hell kind of accent is that?”

Riley sat up and smiled proudly. “It’s Cajun. I have this friend and I really like how he talks; it’s so sexy. Do you think it sounded convincing at all? Maybe a little too nasally? You want me to try to do your accent next?”

With a grin, Liam shook his head and took the seat across from her. “You’re something else, you know that?”

She sighed. “That’s what they tell me.”

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Riley watched curiously as Liam pulled out his phone and began typing something on it. He held it out to her. “I want you to look at this, Cajun Villainess Spy. Tell me what you think?”

“Oh God, you’re gonna show me a dick pic, aren’t you?” Riley slammed her eyes shut as she reluctantly reached for his cell, but sort of peeked out one eye.

“Eh, no. That’s never really been my style.” He gestured insistently for her to look at the screen as he sat back and crossed his arms. “I think you’ll find everything you want to know about me right there.”

It only took her a second to study the images and gloss over the text he pulled up, but a satisfied smirk formed on Liam’s charmed features while watching her eyes grow larger. Riley jumped up from her chair, the momentum causing it to tip over. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a real prince?”

Liam guffawed, “I did!”

“No, you didn’t! You had I’m joking written all over your face. How was I supposed to know your serious face and your joke face look the same?” She tossed the phone back to him like it was molten iron scorching her palm. “I’d rather have the dick pic.”

After picking up her tipped-over chair and getting settled again, she took a moment to just process the identity of the man she had spent the last couple of hours talking and dancing with. Her real-life Prince Charming. This incredibly sweet, hot guy sipping coffee in front of her was part of a royal family, and she was an unemployed everything. What on earth possessed him to want to spend time with the likes of her?

She looked up from her fidgeting fingers that were picking at the green fabric covering her thighs and smiled softly at him. “I’m sorry I overreacted. It’s just …”

“A lot to learn about someone? No, no, I get it. I probably would have had the same reaction if I were you.”

“So ... what happens now?”

What happened next was what led them to the boat they were on for an impromptu midnight ride to see the Statue of Liberty.

Liam laid out the details of his situation: He was a prince visiting New York City with his friends who were throwing him a last-minute bachelor party. Riley listened attentively while he explained his upcoming social season: not knowing yet who he was going to marry, but that duty required him to take a wife by the end of the year. He had hoped while he was in the city to visit its most famous statue; however, his friends hadn’t planned for it. Riley heard the disappointment in his voice and it tugged at her heart.

It was definitely too late to catch one of the many tours that traveled to Ellis Island during the day, but Riley was determined to do what she could to make it happen for him. Part of her was motivated by the fact that she liked him a lot and enjoyed his company; he was charming and refined, different from anyone she’d ever met. The longer she got to spend with Liam and got to know him, the better. But there was also this other part that felt sorry for him. Riley could see the struggle in his eyes and the weight on his shoulders between what he wanted to do, and what his position forced his hand to do. In her mind it was clear that Liam was the kind of guy who got everything -- except what he wanted.

In some ways, she knew the feeling.

To Liam’s surprise, Riley assured him she would find a way for him to see that statue. So, while he paid the tab, her mind raced with how the hell she was going to pull this off. And just before the actual possibility of having to hijack a vessel began to fully take shape in her mind, she pulled out her phone in one last-ditch effort to not break the law. Riley knew no one who owned a boat, but there was one person in her life that seemingly had a connection to everyone in the damn city.

Riley bit at her fingernails as the phone rang, glancing over her shoulder once to watch Liam paying the cashier. “Come on, come on. Pick up. Pick up.”

“Heyyyy!”

“Alyssa,” Riley whispered in an urgent tone into the phone, unclear whether her friend would even hear her over the party music and raucous chatter that was blaring in the background. “I need your help with something.”

“Riiiiley!” she slurred. “My bestie. My sister from another parents. I love you soooo much. More than everyone in the whole wide ... something. Hey, guys! Riley’s on the phone; say hi to her!”

“Wait, Lyss! No.”

A loud chorus of drunken greetings could be heard through the receiver as Alyssa held it up in the air.

“Alyssa!” Riley repeated in frustration while listening to her best friend start another conversation with a partygoer about the perfect symmetrical shape of the cheese cube she just ate. Apparently, it looked like a “tiny little house, for teeny, tiny little cheese people.”

Riley smacked her forehead. “Alyssa!”

Liam returned from paying the bill, his hands stuffed in his pockets and bouncing on his heels. He raised his eyebrows at Riley as if asking eagerly whether she was ready to head out on this adventure she told him she would make possible. Riley smiled back and raised a finger, indicating she’d be ready in a moment. Panic started to set in as she cursed under her breath and continued to try to get her friend back on the call. “Lyss.”

“Riley,” Alyssa laughed. “You’re still on the phone? No way! Hey, guys! Riley’s still on the phone. Say ‘hey’ to her!”

“NOO! Please, Alyssa, I need your help.”

“Whatcha need, Ri? You know I’ll do aaaanything for you.”

“Ok, do you remember when you caught our dorm room on fire senior year cooking ramen noodles in the microwave, and all my stuff burned up?”

“That checks. Sure.”

“Well, it’s time to pay up on that favor you said you’d owe me.”

Somehow, the planets must have been aligned just right, because a very inebriated Alyssa comprehended Riley’s request enough to talk to Damien about it and have it actually make sense. Luckily, the private detective knew a guy who drove a tugboat for the Port Authority working the night shift and was more than willing to see what he could do for Alyssa’s best friend.

-----------

Riley felt Liam’s arms tighten around her waist as the Statue of Liberty came into view. She had seen the landmark more times than she could remember in her life; perhaps she had become so accustomed to it being there that she took for granted how it would affect someone seeing it for the first time. It wasn’t until she twisted around in his arms to view his reaction, to see this beacon of freedom reflecting in his mesmerized eyes, that it all made sense. Liam was a beautiful man with a beautiful soul; if anyone deserved this moment to reflect on what it truly meant to embrace the freedom he longed for, it was him.

“What are you thinking, Liam?” She broke the silence.

He shook his head in wonderment. “It’s magnificent, Riley. I’ve heard art has meaning because of what it makes the viewer feel. Whether it’s ink splatters on a canvas or on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, it only matters if it moves you.”

“And?”

Liam let out a sigh of contentment and lowered his gaze to her. “And right now, looking at this view with you … I feel like … anything is possible.”

“I feel that way too.” She slowly nodded, finding herself lost in his eyes, his voice, his embrace. Nothing in this moment mattered to her anymore: the long stream of bad luck, the crappy job she just lost, her epic failures at relationships. They all seemed to just wistfully fly out into the ocean and bury themselves below its sandy bottom.

Wrapped in each other's arms, surrounded by the salty sea air and a skyline full of hopes and dreams, Liam pulled her as close to himself as she would go, his other hand moving up to caress the side of her face. Both searched longingly into each other's eyes, waiting for the other to make that next big move.

Feeling an awakening of courage and fire in the depths of her fluttering stomach, she threw all fears and caution to the wind. Riley grasped on to the lapels of Liam’s jacket and gently lowered him to her eagerly awaiting lips.

The kiss was tender and brief, but magical; it left her spellbound. Riley could swear she floated out of her body and traveled into the clouds that blanketed above them and enveloped her wholly.

Liam rested his forehead on Riley’s; his hands reached down to grasp hers and swing freely alongside them. “You’re full of surprises tonight, Riley.”

“Is that before or after I knocked you out earlier?”

He chucked, rubbing the bump on the back of his head. “Both times. I’m certainly not sorry about either, though. I’ll never forget this night … or you.”

If you have a concussion, you might. She smiled up at him, “Me either.”

As their boat rounded the island, Riley took one last glance back at the statue that now represented so much more in her mind. Her gaze traveled across the expanse of the gleaming torch, down the long arm of the statue, over to the dim lights shining through the glass within the crown. Something caught her attention -- an odd movement -- and she couldn’t help but squint real hard to make out the image that was quite small from her vantage point. She tilted her head, trying to figure out what the hell she was seeing before it finally became clearer to her. She let out a loud gasp. “Oh my God!”

From behind, Liam leaned down next to her face. “What’s wrong?” he asked curiously, trying to match his view with her line of sight. “What are you seeing?”

Riley pointed up. “I see ass cheeks!” she replied in disgust. “And not just any ass cheeks … big, gigantic ones smooshed right up against the window. There’s two people up there just going at it and … oh, no wait, she just got turned around. Yep, yep, those look like boobies now. Who does that kind of thing, having sex where anyone could just see? And in the Statue of Liberty, of all places?”

Letting out a forced cough then clearing his throat, Liam squeezed Riley’s shoulders several times and laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, I know. Sick freaks, huh?”

The pair watched the display for a second longer than they should have before turning to look at one another, blushing and smiling sheepishly. Riley only hoped she played off her disgust well enough that he didn’t realize she was a sick freak too.

Liam looked away, hoping the same.

---------

It was well past midnight.The Brooklyn streets were mostly bare, with only the occasional late-night dweller cruising the sidewalks or a yellow cab making its weekend rounds. Just a stone's throw across the bridge, the city that never slept, with its flashing lights and bustling tourist, lay in deep contrast to this quiet residential district that was only lit up at that hour by street lamps and halogen headlights.

Riley considered where she lived to be a fairly safe neighborhood. Crime and lawlessness weren’t unheard of, but it was rare for that area. Like many women of her young age, walking alone in the dark wasn’t something she usually set out to do unless she had no other choice. That’s why when Liam insisted he accompany her the few blocks from where they finished their excursion to see her home safely, she was more than willing to oblige him.

“This is my stop. Home sweet home.” Riley stopped at the bottom of the stairs that led to the entrance of her building and turned to Liam. She looked more gleeful than she actually was.

He glanced up at the plain red brick building. It was nothing special, but he made a mental note of the address numbers over its clear glass entryway. He knew it was unlikely he’d ever see her again, but on the off-chance, maybe someday if he was ever in the neighborhood … no, he thought … there’s no point in going there. “I see that ...it’s nice.”

Riley looked at him with a hopeful expression. “I know you said you had an early flight in the morning, but … if you’d like to come up …”

“I wish I could, Riley. Trust me, I want to more than you know; however, the limo will be here soon with my friends, and ...” he swept a strand of blowing hair from her face, memorizing her every feature. “... I don’t want to make this harder on either one of us.”

Nodding, Riley gave a half-smile. “I understand.”

They stared at one another for a moment, hoping to prolong the inevitable. “Come here, you.” Liam pulled her into him and wrapped his arms around her. ”I can never thank you enough for everything tonight, Riley. I’m so glad I ran into you. Well ... actually you ran into me.” Riley let out a soft laugh that made his heart skip a beat. “You were the best part of my trip, Riley. I mean it.”

Before they knew it, the limo pulled up alongside the sidewalk in front of Riley’s apartment. Both felt a sinking feeling, knowing this was the end, and embraced a little tighter as the squeak of the limo’s brakes dulled and the awaiting engine ran in the silent backdrop.

Riley drew in a breath, the heels of her shoes tapping one another. “I guess this is goodbye?”

Frowning, Liam’s palms moved up to her face and rested along her jawline. “I’m afraid it looks that way.” He leaned down and kissed her gently, her arms winding around the back of his neck to hold him there for as long as she possibly could.

Knowing if he didn’t end it there, it never would, Liam broke their kiss, stroking his hand through her hair and said, “Take care, Riley.”

She smiled back. “You too, Liam.”

Not wanting to leave until he was sure she made it inside safely, Liam watched from the sidewalk while Riley slowly made her way up the concrete steps, scouring through her bag as she did so. When she reached the top, she stepped in front of the locked door, frantically digging and shaking her bag in search of the keys to get in.

“Everything okay up there?” Liam called up to her as she knelt down and started frantically tossing items from her purse, slamming them down next to her feet: wallet, cell phone, lip gloss, ink pens, breath mints, hand sanitizer, a half-eaten bag of skittles, a box cutter she didn’t know she had, a marshmallow bunny from Easter, Midol, tampons …

“Mother fuck,” she grumbled in frustration to herself before yelling back cheerfully, “Yes, just looking for my keys. They’re always at the bottom,” she laughed, trying to make light of it.

“They’re in your hand, Riley,” she heard him point out when she finally gazed down into her hand and slowly opened her palm. Liam let out a laugh when he saw her face twist up, realizing she had them the entire time.

“Get out of here. You said you didn’t want to make this harder.” Riley began stuffing everything back into her bag.

He continued to laugh as he threw his hands up and stepped away. “I’m going.”

As soon as she unlocked the door and walked inside to the lit-up entryway, she heard the limo pull away. Everything in her wanted to look back in hopes he’d stayed behind by some chance and was walking up those steps, approaching the door, wanting her to let him in. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; the greatest guy she’d ever met was gone, and the only way to see him again would require a Google search.

In her mind, though, she had made a prince’s dream come true. Maybe she wasn’t half bad after all.

In a huge way, Liam did the same for her. Too bad he would never know it.

___________

Riley opened the door and stepped inside her dark apartment, closing it behind her. After such a long day, feeling a little disheartened, all she wanted to do was slip into some comfy night clothes, wash her face, brush her teeth and crash until next week. Taking two steps away from the door, her foot caught on something and she went flying forward, landing with a hard thud to the floor.

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of her chest when she hit the ground. “Son-of-a--?” She pushed herself up on her knees, shook out her sore hands, then reached over to flip the light switch on.

“Alyssa?” Riley whispered.

Lying on the ground, curled into a peaceful little ball, was her roommate, still in the same clothes she last saw her in, hands pressed together and tucked under her cheek like a sleeping cherub. Riley crawled over to Alyssa, swept her hair out of her face, and checked for breathing. The strong smell of alcohol emanated from her tiny sighs -- Alyssa wasn’t a heavy drinker.

Concerned, Riley jiggled her arm. “Sweetie, are you okay?”

An angelic murmur was the only answer to her question.

Not wanting to leave her on the floor, Riley stood up and bent down, her hands grasping both of Alyssa’s wrists before she pulled her down their hallway as gently as she could and stepped into her best friend's bedroom.

Huffing out of breath, she made it next to Alyssa’s bed. Riley crouched down and tried to lift her onto the mattress, but Alyssa was dead weight. Maybe she had no other choice but to leave her there.

Riley pulled a blanket and pillow from the bed, rolled Alyssa to her side, and got her as comfortable as she could. After placing a wastebasket next to her friend and leaving a bottled water on the night table, she patted her back. “I have so many things to tell you in the morning, Lyss. You’d be so proud of me.” Riley swallowed down the emotions that had threatened to escape since she realized Liam had left for good. Her voice broken and feeble, she continued, “I took that risk. I was fearless, just like you told me to be. It didn’t work out the way I had hoped, but …” she sniffled through a small smile, blinking back tears. “... I have no regrets.”

Riley rose to her feet and headed for the door when she heard a faint voice call out from behind that stopped her in her tracks. “Ri?”

She turned her head. “Hmm?”

“I’m always proud of you.”

Switching the light off, Riley smiled back at her friend, who still appeared to be resting in a calm slumber. “I know. Good night, bestie.”

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

The next morning, just as the sun had peeked from behind the clouds and the air was fresh with newness and warmth, Riley woke. Today would differ from every day before. She didn’t want to lie in bed all day and dwell on what-might-have-beens or how her life was a dead end to nowhere. She was determined she wanted something more out of it -- whatever that may be.

Slipping on a pair of trainers, running tights and a long sleeve shirt, she pulled her hair up in a high ponytail and headed out.

She made it two blocks before collapsing on a bench, gasping for air, and flipping off a kid on a bike who was laughing and taunting her.

After five more blocks of running and taking a break at nearly every bench or stoop along the way -- that same jerky kid still deriding her as he circled around each block -- Riley made her way back to her building, hunched over and sweaty. She didn’t jog as far as she’d liked to, but she made the effort, for which she was pleased with herself.

It also didn’t hurt that there was a mouthy kid out there somewhere with two flat bicycle tires, crying to his mom, that was giving her a new boost of life.

Reaching for the door of her building, she chuckled to herself thinking about his pouty little face -- haha, sucks to be you, kid -- when someone yelled out her name.

“Shit,” she panicked, thinking the boy’s parents had found her and had come to beat her ass. Riley fumbled with her keys, trying to make a quick getaway inside.

“Hey, Riley! Stop.” The voice sounded oddly familiar, and curiosity couldn’t stop her from whipping her head around to take a quick peek. She instantly recognized the man who was racing up the stairs towards her, from the bar. He was one of the guys from Liam’s party last night who helped after the collision.

Pulling the keys from the lock and gripping the pepper spray attached to them, she jumped back when he suddenly hopped up next to her like a fireball of energy.

“Riley. I’m so glad I caught up with you. I’m Maxwell -- we met last night -- and this is Rashad.” He pointed over his shoulder. The man gave a simple nod in return. “He was there, too.”

Her brows knit in confusion. “Oookay. You both aren’t here by chance upset over a couple of slashed bike tires, are you? Because that wasn’t me. I saw who did it, though, if you need a witness statement.” Riley’s eyes shifted around, looking for a person to match her fake would-be description.

Maxwell shook his head with a chuckle and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, her gaze falling to it. “Nah, I came to talk to you about Liam. You’re all he could talk about when he got back to the hotel last night. He went on and on about the cafe, and the trip to the Statue of Liberty, and how beautiful you are ...”

“He -- he did?” She was pleasantly surprised, her heart bursting at his words.

“Yeah. We’re heading back to Cordonia so Liam can find someone to marry and all that jazz. But before I go, I wanted to officially extend to you an invitation to join us for the festivities in Cordonia. Sooo … is there somewhere we can talk?”

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

“You want me to do what?” Riley jumped up from the sofa, her eyes wide and mouth gaping as she gawked back at Maxwell, who was sitting at the far end. Her trembling hand shot to her forehead before she paced back and forth. “Let me get this straight. You want to sponsor me to compete to marry a man I just met last night? And not just any man, a prince. You’re going to fly me halfway across the world -- You could be the Official Royal Serial Killer, for all I know -- then prance me around like some beauty pageant contestant? And all I have to do is say ‘yes to the dress’ that you can’t afford? Just hop right on a plane with two strange men, huh? How naïve do I look to you?” Riley paused for a second. “Don’t answer that.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I saw how Liam looked at you last night at the bar, and later when he returned from your date. I’ve never seen him that happy before. Honestly, I don’t want him to lose that. We’re kinda crunched for time, though. I’ve got a plane leaving in an hour.”

“An hour?” Riley questioned as she plopped down on the coffee table, her back to Maxwell and the guy in the chair across the room who hadn’t said a word the whole time. It was a once-in-a-lifetime offer to travel somewhere new and exciting and literally rub elbows with royalty. To live out that fairytale that most girls could only dream of. But more importantly, it was a way to see Liam again, and she wanted to so badly … if Maxwell was indeed telling the truth.

Even if nothing came of it, there was no job tying her down anymore. Her dad had just gotten married to her stepfather and stayed busy as a chef for Beyonce and Jay-Z, so he would be fine, and she had enough money in savings to pay her portion of the rent while she was gone and expenses for her travels. There was just one thing she would insist on.

Riley spun around on the table, her eyes flashing between the two men. “I will do this -- on one condition.”

Maxwell clapped his hands excitedly. “Yes! Just name it and it’s yours.”

“Max.” Rashad leaned forward in his chair, his elbows pressed into his knees. “You don’t even know what she wants yet.”

“I’m getting to that.” Maxwell turned to her with an arched brow. “Okay, Riley. What is your condition?”

She hadn’t even asked Alyssa yet, but Riley steepled her fingers and volunteered her, anyway. “My roommate has to go with me.”

“No problemo.”

“What -- Really?”

“Sure. She can ride the jet back with us and I’ll even help her find a good hotel room nearby so you two can visit … if you’re able to find time in between all the competitions, balls, traveling, lessons, and what not. It’ll be great!”

Riley shook her head adamantly, not willing to budge on the issue. “No! I want Alyssa there for all of those things. If I even have the slightest chance of being a serious contender and a fully functioning human being, I need someone there to make sure I don’t do anything stupid … and I will … a lot. Plus, she’s my best friend, and I’m not doing this without her.”

Feeling the pressure to relent and the seconds ticking away until takeoff, Maxwell’s shoulders slumped, taking in Riley’s pleading expression. “I -- I don’t know what to do. Your friend would have to be sponsored also in order to stay with you. She would have to be a suitor and compete for Liam’s hand just like you and all the other ladies, and there can only be one sponsee for each noble house. If you’re our pick, then she would need to have someone of nobility who doesn’t have a suitor yet and knows it’s all a ... ruse …” he trailed off, grinning impishly, as an idea suddenly popped into his head. Maxwell’s gaze swept across the room and landed on his friend, Rashad, who had a deer-in-the-headlights look, knowing exactly what he was getting at.

“Oh no. Leave me out of this,” he insisted while waving his hands back and forth. “This is all on you, Maxwell.”

“No, don’t say that yet.” Riley sprang to her feet and grabbed a picture frame from a nearby table, falling to her knees in front of Rashad to beg. “This is Alyssa.” She cheerfully pointed her friend out in the picture, delighted when the Lord of Domvallier’s eyes grew and seemed more than intrigued. “She’s not only beautiful, charming, and supportive, but she’s the smartest person I know. Everyone just loves her. And even though she won’t want to win because of me, she’ll represent your house with the greatest of integrity and propriety. I swear it.”

“It’s for Liam,” Maxwell interjected, wagging his brows. “Imagine how grateful he’ll be when he finds out your part in making this happen for him.”`

Rashad let out a heavy groan. “Max, you know I would do anything for a friend -- especially Liam -- but it’s not that simple. There’s a reason why Domvallier opted not to have a suitor join this season: I have business dealings in California that coincide with some of the competitions. And with Mother’s and Father’s health in decline, I couldn’t possibly burden them with traveling and overseeing a suitor. It just wouldn’t work.”

Riley turned to Maxwell. “Well … couldn’t she just hang out with us most of the time? It’s not like she’d be in it to win it, anyway.”

“I don’t see why not.” Maxwell shrugged. “We all travel and stay together for the most part anyway.” He glanced over at Rashad, who could do nothing but stare at the two of them bouncing like eager children with big cheshire grins, while he literally decided the fate of a woman who had no idea she had just been volunteered to “pretend” compete for the hand of a prince the entire summer, in another country, and had to board a plane in just under an hour.

Rashad sighed and took the photo from Riley’s hand, giving it a quick glance. He was definitely smitten by the bright, blue-eyed woman with the big dimpled smile and wouldn’t mind getting to know her better, particularly if she was everything described to him. “I should have gone with Drake back to the plane.” He shook his head and handed the photo back to Riley. “Can’t believe I’m doing this, but --”

Before he even finished his thought, Maxwell and Riley leaped to their feet to celebrate, whooping and howling around him, ruffling his jet black hair, hugging, and clapping him several times on the chest.

“What’s going on?”

The three of them whipped their heads around at the raspy-sounding voice that caught their attentions.

“Lyss!” Riley’s eyes lit up at the sight of her best friend standing there; she couldn’t wait to share all the good news with her. Maxwell, and particularly Rashad’s, jaws dropped at the sight before them. They both did a double take of the picture in the frame and then back to the petite brunette who wore a rumpled party dress, was missing one flat shoe, and sported smudged mascara under her sunken eyes and hair flying in every direction.

Riley moved over to Alyssa, placing a gentle hand on her arm with a smile. “Alyssa. These gentlemen are from Cordonia -- It’s somewhere you need a plane ride for. This is Lord Maxwell Beaumont.” She gestured and received a wave back. “And this is Lord Rashad of Doberman Pinscher,” she stated in a posh accent.

“Domvallier,” he corrected, stunned and still unable to take his eyes off his new suitor.

“Lords?” she questioned in a feeble tone; Riley nodded back at her.

Alyssa smiled at the two strangers, then lowered her head and curtsied like she was wearing a ball gown before them. “How do you do? Welcome to House Devereaux-Brooks. It’s so kind of you to stop by and make our acquaintances. Please do make yourselves at home.” She straightened back up and immediately turned to Riley. “I’m dying. Where’s the Advil?”

Riley insisted Alyssa have a seat while she retrieved the Advil and a glass of water for her. Feeling that was a fair deal, Alyssa stumbled over to the couch, accidentally stepping on Maxwell, who held onto her arms and helped her the rest of the way. When she was seated, she leaned forward, rubbing soothing circles around her temples, willing the room to stop spinning. Riley shuffled back with two pills and a cool bottle of water, and handed them to Alyssa, who hastily threw back and chugged nearly the entire thing. She couldn’t remember a time when she felt so thirsty.

No one knew really how to respond just yet. Rashad conferred in hushed tones with Maxwell, as Alyssa kept her eyes closed for a moment, taking in slow, deep breaths. Everything from head to toe ached and throbbed.

Finally, she smacked her still-dry mouth and announced, “Okay, I’m going back to bed. Goodnight, everyone. It was so nice to meet you all.” She moved to the edge of the sofa when Riley pressed lightly on her shoulders, holding her back.

“Wait a minute, Lyss. I have something I want to talk to you about.”

Lowering the shades in the living room to block the sun from Alyssa’s sensitive eyes, Riley began to explain how she met Liam at the bar last night and was asked to go out for a drink with him. Alyssa nodded her head slowly as she followed along, somewhat remembering their phone conversation about the date, how he was a prince, and the Statue of Liberty -- Lyss was proud of herself for being a part of making that happen. The next of their conversation continued on to Liam returning to his country for the social season in which he was expected to find someone to marry by the end of the summer. “I’m so sorry he had to leave, but what does any of this have to do with you, Ri?”

Riley glanced over her shoulder. “That’s where these two guys come in.”

Alyssa followed her friend’s gaze then shook her head. “I’m not following.”

“Maxwell wants to sponsor me to travel to Cordonia to compete for Liam. And we leave in an hour. Yay!” She raised her arms in a V, trying to garner excitement from her roommate, knowing she’d probably freak out.

And she did. “YOU CAN’T GO TO A FOREIGN COUNTRY! FOR ALL YOU KNOW THESE GUYS ARE SERIAL KILLERS OR SEX TRAFFICKERS!” Alyssa looked at Rashad and smiled shyly. “Not you, of course.” She then eyed Maxwell. “Probably him.”

“I know, I know. But that’s kinda, sorta where you come in.” Riley’s eyes danced around the room while tugging on the hem of her shirt.

“What do you mean?”

Maxwell checked the time on his phone as Riley laid out the details, point by point, to her friend, who guzzled the last bit of her water as she found out she had basically been enlisted into becoming a suitor as well. Alyssa spit out her water. “WHAT?”

Rashad sighed and looked for paper towels to dry off his lap.

Taking in Alyssa’s bug-eyed stare, Riley scrambled to make the whole situation sound more appealing to her.

“There’s skiing --”

“You know I can’t ski.”

“There’s ice skating --”

“Are you trying to break both of my ankles at the same time?”

“There’s horseback riding --”

“Oh, God, horses?”

“And beaches.”

Alyssa started to complain before stopping herself. “Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad. But still, Ri --”

“Please, Alyssa,” Riley pleaded, her still-small voice just above a whisper. She sat down on the coffee table again, across from her friend, eyes glassy. “I would never ask you to do something so big for me. But, I want you there … I need you there. This … this is the guy, Lyss. He’s the one.”

Seeing the hopeful expression staring back at her, Alyssa’s heart sank. She set aside the empty bottle and leaned forward, placing a compassionate hand on Riley’s. “First of all, you don’t need me. You’re more than capable of doing this on your own. I mean, give yourself a little credit … you landed a prince.” They both let out soft laughs before she continued. “But, secondly, you know I’m a hopeless romantic. So if this is the only way you’ll go … count me in.”

As the two of them hugged and Riley expressed her fervent thanks, Maxwell cleared his throat and interrupted their happy moment. The girls turned to him as he stated, “I hate to break all of this up -- I really do. This is like the totally awesome stuff I live for -- but we’re pressed for time now. Our friend Drake is already on the plane waiting and isn’t above leaving without us.”

“Oh good. Doesn’t he sound like a little ray of sunshine?” Alyssa scoffed, causing Riley to snicker and drawing half a smirk from Rashad.

The guys headed down to the limo while the girls rummaged through their rooms, stuffing as many of their things as they could possibly fit into suitcases and bags. After taking turns getting quick showers, being vigilant of the time, they double checked to make sure they had what they needed for an extended trip, planning to call friends and family on the drive to the airport to let them know where they would be.

Alyssa slipped on a pair of sunglasses as she stepped into the hallway, while Riley locked the door to their apartment behind them. “And you’re sure this Liam is worth all this?”

Riley regarded her thoughtfully before letting out a contented sigh, “Yeah. He’s worth it.”

Alyssa shrugged and pushed the sunglasses higher on her nose. “Well, if we don’t die, we’ll have a hell of a story to tell.”

-----------

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kaitycole · 3 years

Text

a future with(out) you

Summary: Where do you fit in Oikawa’s life after he says his future is just full of volleyball?

Warnings: Angst to fluff

Pairing: Oikawa x Reader

Word Count: 1851

A/N: Thanks for the request, @burntpeachie. I hope you enjoy it.

It has been seven years since you started dating Oikawa. Your relationship began the second year of high school, it survived the five years post-graduation that included your four years of college and first year of working while he had spent those five years in Argentina living out his dream. Which was why something didn’t feel right after watching his latest TV interview.

“Oikawa-san, what does the future have in store for you now that you are heading back to Japan?”

He smiled his bright smile, the one that made men and women alike swoon. “More volleyball.”

Volleyball.

If you never heard about that sport again, it would be too soon. Volleyball had consumed your life since the day you met Oikawa and while you love him, while you want to support his dreams, his ambitions, you just thought that he might make more time for you. Maybe if you could somehow turn into a ball made of leather consisting of eighteen rectangle panels, you might get some attention.

The door opens and you smile just a little when you see Oikawa walk in. He had gone out with Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Iwaizumi since he finally had some free time after having moved back home. He has settled into your apartment effortlessly which just felt right, but your stomach is still in knots after thinking about that interview all day.

“Hi.” You don’t want to be upset, you know he said what he did for a reason, but it still hurt. You have chiseled away a place in your life for him, kept it free from anything else, but it doesn’t feel like he had done the same for you, leaving you to wonder if he ever had or if the place he made for you had gotten filled with something else.

“Hey sweetheart.” He kisses your forehead, sitting next to you. “I’m still not used to this, to knowing that there’s no flight to catch in less than 53 hours and that me being here in permanent.” He rests his head on your shoulder, lazily tracing the lines on your palm with his fingers.

“Speaking of, do you want me to help unpack some of your boxes? I really don’t mind.” You run your fingers through his hair, smiling when you feel him nuzzle his face against your shoulder.

“No, don’t worry about them. It’s fine.”

You bite your lip, once against his simple words shouldn’t bother you as much as they do. Your relationship weathered the storm of long distance, surely it could withstand anything, right? But again, your stomach knots up, doubt sinking in that maybe he doesn’t plan on staying here long. That maybe with his higher level of fame, a larger number of fans, that maybe he didn’t want to fully unpack because he was planning on leaving you. Why else would he need to keep boxes left packed and sealed if he actually planned on having a life with you here?

* * A few weeks have passed since Oikawa moved back to Japan and to say his behavior has been strange would be an understatement. He seems to have gotten jumpy, constantly logging his phone screen, flipping his phone over and even walking into a different room to take certain phone calls. You hate it, you never thought he would cheat on you, but you at least hoped he would be more creative about it.

Today is particular you’re just completely fed up. He woke you up way earlier than you wanted when his phone went off and he literally flew out of bed and into the living room to take it, you kicked on of his still packed boxes and he seems to be in a whole different world. By the time you get home from work, you’re done, done with today, done with his behavior, you just can’t take it anymore.

“Hey, Y/N!”

“Oh, so you do know my name?”

Oikawa stops midway off the couch, half standing, half sitting. “Huh?”

“The last few weeks you’ve been a blur and even when you are here, you are mentally somewhere else or checking your phone.” You roll your eyes as you walk through the living room, dropping your bags on the countertop in the kitchen.

“I don’t follow.” “Do you even want to be here? To be with me?” You cross your arms, face twisted in irritation.

He stands up, walking over to you, “Of course. What kind of question is that?”

“More volleyball. That’s what you said.”

Oikawa is entirely too confused at this moment, trying to figure out when he said that and why you were repeating it.

You watch as he tries to come up with a reply, trying to formulate a response, but you just want to be far away from him. You’ve let this irritation, this anger fester and now it was demanding to come out.

“In your last interview, you said your future held ‘more volleyball.’” You use air quotes, “I guess I just thought I had a plan in there somewhere, but was wrong.”

You watch as his shoulders drop and his expression switches from confused to somewhat heartbroken. He tries to grab out to you, but you slip pass him, grabbing your purse and going back to the door.

“I need some space.”

Oikawa stands there, words jumbled up in his throat as you slam the door shut. He thinks back to the interview and still struggled with why what he said was so upsetting to you.

“What Shittykawa?”

“So rude, Iwa-chan. Is that really how you answer the phone?” Oikawa balances the phone on his shoulder as he starts going through one of the packed boxes.

“Just when you call.” He rolls his eyes when he hears Iwa chuckle. “What do you need?” “Y/N just left, pretty upset. Apparently, my last interview upset them.”

“Well duh. You basically said that your future only held volleyball, you didn’t even mention Y/N.”

Oikawa stops rummaging through the box and is shocked. He never thought of it like that, but in his defense, he was trying to protect you too. High school was rough with the groups of fans he attracted, he didn’t want to think how bad it could get to publicly mention you.

“I didn’t think of it like that.” “Cause you’re a dumbass.” Oikawa rolls his eyes, internally cheering as he finally finds what he’s been looking for. “Wait, you watched my interview? Aw Iwa-chan, you love me.”

“It was the only thing on.” “Why were you up so early?” “Bye Oikawa. Fix things with Y/N or I’ll hit you.”

* * An hour passes before you finally return to the apartment. When you left, you told yourself you’d call some friends, meet up and stay out late, but they were all busy and you ended up just walking around. You found your way into a small shop, the kind that have a little bit of everything before accepting defeat and heading home. It’s quiet when you open the door and dark, maybe Oikawa had left too. That thought hurt you because you didn’t mean it when you said you wanted space, you wanted the opposite, you wanted the Tooru that clung to you, the one who invaded your personal space more than he didn’t.

You’re really surprised when you see candle lit, did you even own candles? You walk down through the living room, kitchen and partially down the hall before you hear the apartment door open, Oikawa coming back in.

“Y/N! You’re home, thank goodness.” He lets out a sigh of relief, “come here.”

Hesitantly you walk back into the living room, sitting next to Oikawa.

“I’m sorry.” He grabs your hands, “I didn’t think carefully enough when I did that interview.” “It’s fine, Tooru.” You watch his eyes light up when you use his given name.

“It’s not, because I’ve not been doing a good enough telling you things.” He takes a deep breath, “I guess I’ve always saw you in my future so I didn’t think it was important to say it. But leaving you to assuming those things aren’t fair to you.”

“Really? You see me in your future?” You bite your lip, tears pooling in your eyes.

“I can’t see one without you, at least not a good one.” He places a hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheek, gently wiping away the tear that slips down it. “I’m sorry I don’t say it enough, but I promise to get better.”

You want to enjoy the moment, to let the love you feel wash over you, but you just can’t drop his recent and borderline shady behavior. “If you want to be together, why have you been acting all weird?”

His face drops and you fear that maybe you caught him in a lie. He fiddles with something in his pocket, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“I was hoping to do this another time, but oh well.” He pulls out a small red box, handing it to you.

“I love you and I clearly don’t say it enough, but a life without you isn’t something that I want. Volleyball is important to me and without your support I don’t know what I’d do, but you, Y/N, you are more important to me. If I could redo the interview, I’d say that my future has more of you in it because I don’t have to worry about leaving the country anymore or scheduling phone calls at the most bizarre hours. I guess what I’m trying to say with all of this is, will you marry me?”

“Just one question before I answer, okay?”

“Of course, ask anything.”

“Why have you been hiding your phone?” You fidget with the box in your hand, the velvet material brushes against your fingertips.

“You just love ruining all the surprises, eh?” He laughs, “I’ve been talking to my sister’s friend. She’s a realtor and has been helping me look for a bigger apartment. I know you’ve been here for a while and I wasn’t going to rent anything without talking to you first, but I thought a bigger place might be nice. A place that’s ours especially for this chapter in our life. If you say yes, of course.”

You feel like an idiot, upset with yourself for doubting your relationship, doubting your boyfriend. Tears trickle down your cheeks, Oikawa quickly wiping them away, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sorry.” “Don’t be.” He kisses your lips softly, “I was acting super strange, I’d probably feel the same way if roles were reversed.”

“Of course I’ll marry you.” You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you.

When you pull back, he takes the box, slipping the ring on your finger. He brings your hand to his lips, kissing your ring finger over and over until you start laughing. You smile brightly when his eyes meet yours before he rests his head on your chest.

“Tooru?” “Mmm?”

“I love you.” “I love you too.”

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #hq angst to fluff

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