#Beneath the Mimosa

[emchant3d]

modern au, exes to lovers, transfem stevie harrington

Stevie Harrington is not having a good day.

By all accounts, she should be. Robin woke her right on time by pressing a perfectly made brown sugar shaken espresso into her hand. Nancy and Chrissy got to the venue earlier than expected. The hair and makeup people were on schedule. Their boozy charcuterie brunch during their prep time was perfectly served, the mimosas delicious and the food fresh and light enough to put on her nervous stomach. 

Everything’s gone off without a hitch. She looks gorgeous. She’s got her something old, her something new, her something borrowed, and even her something blue. Her hair’s done in a soft blowout, framing her face but out of the way, ready for the combs of her veil to slip into. Her makeup is elegant, not too showy and not too dramatic, neutral and warm and sweet. And her dress. It’s what she always dreamed of, clingy and silky with a dramatic leg slit and a long train, off the shoulders, perfectly white. She’s staring at herself in the mirror knowing that in forty-five minutes, she’s going to hold the world’s most beautiful wedding bouquet and walk down the most perfectly decorated aisle in the quaintest, sweetest church she could find, and she’ll stand across from her fiancé and take his hands and say “I do” and all of her dreams will come true.

So she should be having a good day.

Because it’s her wedding day, and Stevie Harrington is about to become Stefania Hagan.

Maybe that brunch wasn’t so perfect after all, because she thinks she’s about to puke.

“I can’t do this,” she says, but her voice is so soft it’s barely a whisper and the girls don’t even glance at her. “I can’t do this,” she repeats, and Robin - bless her, her favorite person in the world, her soulmate, her other half, her maid of honor - glances up. 

“What’s that, Evie?” she asks, and the others look over at her, and Stevie stands there beneath their gazes and knows if she just says it again, says I can’t do this, don’t make me marry him, get me out of here, all three of them would drag her to an exit and get her the fuck out.

They don’t even like Tommy. Robin actively hates him, actually, and that should have been enough for Stevie to never look at him twice.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t enough.

She thinks back to a few days ago, drunk in a bar with a white sash wrapped around her torso, a tiara on her head, and mascara running down her face as she desperately sobbed on Robin’s shoulder during her bachelorette party. That little meltdown wasn’t enough. And she thinks back further, to when Tommy proposed - in public, at a fucking baseball game, on the goddamn jumbotron. Dread had settled in her chest at the sight of the ring (huge, gaudy, she hated it on sight) even as she pasted on a smile and said yes. That hadn’t been enough.

But somehow standing here done up head to toe, about to walk down the aisle in her absolute dream wedding - that’s enough. Because everything about today is right. Everything’s in place. Everything’s gorgeous and going to plan and she should be so, so happy - but it’s the wrong man waiting for her at the end of all of it.

She can’t do this. 

She looks up and meets Robin’s eyes and forces a smile. “I said I need to get my veil,” she lies, and she slips into her shoes (red bottoms, a gift from Tommy’s mother, perfectly white and pointed and it’s her dream day, how can she be throwing this away?) and walks into the other room where her garment bag is hanging, and her veil is there with its delicate detail and it’s scalloped edges and it’s all so fucking perfect she’s going to scream, she wants to rip it to pieces and she wants to tear this dress off and she wants to sob, she doesn’t want to do this, she doesn’t want to get married - not to him. Not to Tommy. 

She could ask for help. Robin would have her out of here in five minutes flat, Nancy would craft an excuse to tell everyone, and Chrissy would cause a distraction. But even that’s too long of a wait. Even that’s too much attention, too much suspicion. She needs to move faster than that. She needs out now.

She quickens her pace as she crosses the room, dress dragging along the carpet, and she snags her phone where it’s sitting on the end table next to an overstuffed love seat, and in three long strides she’s out the door and in the hall and the church has been busy and packed all day but somehow, miraculously, there’s no one here.

No one sees Stevie as she gathers up the fabric of her dress in her hands and starts to walk towards the exit. No one sees as her walk speeds to a jog, and then a run, and then she slams out of a side door and she’s on the sidewalk and she’s sprinting, her heels are going to get scuffed by the pavement but she can’t care, she’s running as fast as she can and dodging people on the sidewalk as they turn and gawk at her and she cannot give them a thought, cannot focus on them even a little bit because she has to get away, escape is the only thought on her mind as she gasps for air, her dress is so heavy and it’s not made for running that’s for goddamn sure, and the last few years with Tommy flash through her mind - every time he’s undermined her or given her a backhanded compliment or policed her, told her she wasn’t feminine enough, told her she wasn’t trying hard enough to pass, told her to just keep it all to herself so no one would know she wasn’t cis, wouldn’t embarrass him by making a scene, all the times that come together to a glaringly obvious conclusion that he doesn’t really love her and she kind of hates him a little actually, and obviously she can’t fucking marry him and–

There. 

A beat-up four-door with an Uber sticker in the window. 

That’ll do, she thinks, and she changes course, shoulder-checking a man and not apologizing for it as she makes a beeline for the car. She pops off an acrylic wrenching the door open and tossing herself into the backseat, and she yells “DRIVE!” at the top of her lungs and somehow, through some miracle, they listen, swerving into traffic with a loud curse and a myriad of honking horns and a quaint, sweet little church growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

She’s gasping for breath, chest heaving, staring out the back window like she’s waiting for someone to follow her - and maybe she is, maybe Tommy is hot on her trail, or maybe Robin is coming to kill her for not including her in her mad dash to freedom and instead jumping in a stranger’s car going God knows where.

“So uh,” a voice says, and she whips around, staring wide-eyed at the brown eyes fixed on her in the mirror, and no, no fucking way– “where to, ma’am?” 

“Um,” she says, and her voice is shaky, cracking a little, she brushes her hair out of her face and stares and– wait.

There’s a beat. The driver’s eyes widen. Recognition flashes over his face at the same time it registers for Stevie. 

“Stevie?” Eddie Munson, her ex-boyfriend of several years, the man she hasn’t spoken to since that fateful night they went their separate ways, is staring at her in shock, not even looking at the road, and the only thing she can think is how he’s just as averse to road safety now as he’d been way back when.

“Eddie,” she croaks out. 

Too many emotions are overwhelming her at once and it feels like the biggest cliché in the world, but honestly, Stevie feels like she’s entitled to some dramatics. It’s her goddamn wedding day, after all.

Her failed wedding day.

Where she just left her fiancé at the altar.

“Oh god,” she manages. Her lower lip wobbles. Her vision blurs.

“Stevie,” Eddie says again, like a warning, and that’s enough to push her over.

She bursts into tears in his backseat.

“Hey hey hey!” he says like she’s a fucking spooked horse or something, which only makes her cry more, ugly sobs that shake her shoulders and drip tear drops onto her dress. “Stevie, honey–”

“Do NOT call me honey right now!” she manages, and he raises a hand in surrender before flipping on a turn signal and finding a parking lot to pull over in. 

“Okay, okay! No comforting pet names, you got it,” he agrees, and he shuts the car off, turning in his seat to look at her, concern painted all over his face and that’s just really not fair, she thinks, that he still looks so earnest and sweet and fucking worried about her.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, urgent and serious, and she shakes her head quickly.

“No! No, I’m - I’m fine, really,” she insists and he proves that he is a gentleman after all, because he doesn’t call her out on the blatant lie.

“Okay,” he says, level, his hand hovering in the space between them like he wants to touch her. “What do you need?” he asks, and she wipes at her face with her hands, swallowing down yet another sob.

“Get me out of here,” she pleads, and he searches her face for - something, she doesn’t know what, because she’s sure all she’s showing him is how much of a fucking mess she is, but he must find whatever he’s looking for.

He gives her a sharp nod. “Anywhere in particular, sweetheart?” he asks, turning to start the car again. She doesn’t call him out on the pet name this time.

“Anywhere but here,” she says, and he puts the car in reverse, pulling back onto the road.

“You got it,” he says, and some of that old charm must kick in - he winks at her in the rearview. She resolutely ignores the spike of emotion it gives her. 

Then she takes a deep, shuddery breath, and opens the group chat to break the news to her wedding party.

part 2 coming at some point!

#steddie #steddie fic #trans steve harrington #transfeminine steve harrington #stevie harrington #runaway bride stevie #my fic #apologies in advance but i don't do tag lists <3

[formulapai]

THE MUSES BY YOUR SIDE PT1

a Lance Stroll social media AU

scenario: the “history of literature”’s student taking over instagram slowly attracts a driver, curious about beautiful words and dazzling writings. OR how to fall in love through poems and handwritten letters.

warning:

pai’s words: i studied history of literature while in uni (this is not the name it has where I live but from what I’ve read, it’s part of what I studied) and absolutely fell in love with poems analysis. also, i have an unhealthy obsession with myths so yeah.

romanticalliope made a new post!

liked by user1, user2 and others.

romanticalliope: 🖋️🪞🐈🎨

1. Putting words on words, explaining the explanation.

2. Went to the market, fell in love with mirrors and what they reflected. The sky, the clouds, my eyes, the seller’s kind smile, life passing by.

3. Gaia is learning about her Name and what it implies, carefully reading as she takes in the beauty of her own myth.

4. “Le Villi” Bartolomeo Giuliano.

user1: gaia seems to be enjoying her book ! can we know what it is ?

romanticalliope: Of course darling, it’s Pride and Prejudice ! She surely took a liking to it, as I did after reading it the first time. 🤍

user2: those mirrors are to DIE for, i need them plz

romanticalliope: They are, aren’t they ? I sadly didn’t take one home..

user3: Will we have another poem analysis soon ? I love them so much, it helps me a lot with understanding literature !

romanticalliope: I’m very grateful for your comment, helping all of you understand poetry is my main goal and I’m glad it’s working. An analysis will be out tomorrow ! 🤍

user4: Hey, random question but do you have a playlist ? I feel like you have divine music tastes 🥹🥹🥹

romanticalliope: Well, that’s a high praise, thank you my sweet. I don’t have a public playlist for now but will surely make one if people are interested :) 🤍

user1: YES PLEASE

user5: we are SO interested 🥳🥳

♥️liked by romanticalliope

romanticalliope just posted a new story!

seen by user5, user6 and others

user7: I WAS WAITING FOR IT OMG

user8: Thank you for this analysis!! 🥹🫶

romanticalliope made a new post!

liked by user9, user10 and others

romanticalliope: 🫐🕸️🐈📰

1. One of the Water Lily’s paintings from Claude Monet, in Paris. Undoubtedly one of my favorite paintings, it’s truly magnificent.

2. Matching Spider-Man Lego keychains with my friend. I’ll forever be enamored with my friends.

3. Gaia is disturbing my reading time as the sun is hugging us. Karma is the cat purring on my lap because it loves me, I guess.

4. The market in the morning, the scent of newspapers and mimosas surrounding us.

user2: the Spider-Man keychains omg 🥹🥹

user9: estie bestie would love them lol

user2: oh bestie while I 100% agree, I doubt Cassie knows about estie bestie..

romanticalliope: Ahah, I do know about Esteban :) and I bet he’d adore them too 🤍

user11: CASSIE SWIFTIE ???

romanticalliope: Confirmed 🥰

user5: I feel like you really like Impressionism, is it your favorite style ?? Also I LOVE this painting, still didn’t have the chance to see it IRL :(

romanticalliope: Impressionism is my favorite indeed ! I hope you’ll be able to see it soon, it’s truly something 🤍

romanticalliope made a new post!

liked by estebanocon, user 9 and others

romanticalliope: 🖋️🍂🔑🐝

1. A new tattoo, an illustration for Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe. While I don’t particularly like this writer, this poem has changed the trajectory of my life and I felt it was only fair to have it engraved in me, forever.

2. Walking back from university and feeling leaves crunching beneath my weight, the smell of wet asphalt taking over my senses.

3. My friends and I going to the Lego store and standing in front of the keychains for a good few minutes, admiring the tiny persons.

4. A picture with Esteban, from 2016, baby face and all. For those not believing I actually knew who he was 😬😉

estebanocon: Nooon les deux enfants qu’on était ! On doit faire d’autre photos plus récentes 🤣 (nooo the two children we were ! we need to take more recent pictures)

romanticalliope: Invite moi dans le garage Alpine et on prend autant de photos que tu veux 😭 (invite me inside the Alpine garage and we’ll take as much pics as you want)

estebanocon: Bien compris 🫡 (understood)

user12: THE TATTOO OH GOD ITS SO PRETTY

user13: ESTIE 😭😭😭 A BABY

user14: I didn’t expect to see f1 related posts on this account 😬 not complaining tho !

user2: me neither !

user9: the tattoo is breathtaking, cheers to the artist !!

#lance stroll fluff #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll imagine #lance stroll #Lance stroll social media au #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 #Lance stroll smau

[xjustakay]

✺ (1/4) ✺ @jegulus-microfic prompt: switch — 765 words (mild nsfw, trans Reg; inappropriate secret activities at the brunch table)

James is pushing his luck at this point, and he knows it. Can’t help it, really. The heat in Regulus’ cheeks never fully gets the chance to fade, no matter how long a break he gives him, and it’s worth it. Fuck, it’s so worth it. He’ll deal with whatever turnaround he’s got coming to him later, because this? Oh, James is riding this high for as long as he fucking can.

The tiny little remote sits in the curl of his palm, tucked beneath the brunch table. It weighs less than his phone, about as big as his thumb, at best, and yet the power he wields with it is otherworldly. 

A small red switch that clicks on and off, a plus button and a minus button beneath it to control the intensity of vibrations —it’s all he really needs. He’s been messing with it in starts and stops for the last hour, knowing full well that while he absently fidgets with the buttons and switch, Regulus is squirming one seat down across the table, absolutely ruining that vibrating g-string James got him for Christmas.

It’s been a little while since James last clicked it on, giving Regulus the opportunity to eat his food without the threat of accidentally inhaling a bit of french toast and truly calling more attention to himself —James is courteous like that. Now that they’ve all settled into chatting over coffee and mimosas, winding down after finishing up their meals, though, it feels like as good a time as any.

The setting was left on the lowest it could be last he turned the switch off, but James still doesn’t miss the way that Regulus flinches out of the corner of his eye when he clicks it back on again now, not expecting it after the extended reprieve. James glances away from where Sirius and Remus are chattering back and forth about wedding details to where Regulus sits between Barty and Dorcas.

He’s not even a little surprised to find a glare already fixed on him.

Feigning innocence, James pulls his lip between his teeth, bats his eyelashes. Presses the plus button three times in rapid succession. It’s too much too quickly when James knows that Regulus is already oversensitive, undoubtedly uncomfortably slick and swollen where he rubs his thighs together and shifts in his chair for some modicum of relief from the teasing his clit’s been subjected to since they sat down.

Another click of the plus button and Regulus’ hand comes down on the edge of the table harshly, rattling glasses and silverware, grip white-knuckled. Dorcas startles out of her conversation with Lily and Pandora across the table to look at him in concern but Regulus only waves her off with his free hand. Sirius’ head whips in his brother’s direction, dark brows pinching together when he catches the flush burning in Regulus’ cheeks, spilling over the edges of sharp jawline and down the sides of his neck.

“Alright, Reggie?” He calls.

“I’m fine,” Regulus hisses through his teeth. He catches his own strained tone and lets out a vaguely hysterical sounding laugh, making a rushed grab for the last of his mimosa in front of him. He downs the couple gulps in a hurry then breathes in deeply through his nose. “Another round?”

Sirius, bless him, thinks nothing of it, merely agrees and waves down their waitress —Regulus doesn’t drink in excess often, this could just be written off as a little too much too early in the day, weird as it may seem. No reason to suspect anything nefarious is going on anyway. Not like Regulus and James are running about advertising the things they get up to. Even though all of their friends know they’re together and have a bad habit of making that fact everyone else’s problem in some way or another.

Barty snorts beside Regulus, straight across the table from James, and catches his eye; doesn’t seem to miss a thing, Barty Crouch Jr., no matter how often he leads others to believe he does. He looks back at James with one brow arched upward, dark eyes dangerously knowing, lips quirked at the edges where he sips at a glass that’s straight champagne more than a mixed drink.

“Buzzing this morning, aren’t we, Reg?” Barty mutters, just loud enough for the two people it’s intended for.

James clicks the remote’s switch back to off instantly. Despite the soft whimper that escapes past Regulus’ clenched teeth, there’s still a positively murderous glower shot James’ way.

Oh, he is so fucked later. James can’t wait.

#jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #heyyy haven't written one of these in a hot minute what's up #“kay it's barely after midnight” look i got excited #hated seeing all the trans reg hate so i did a little baby thing with him. plan on doing some more later. #good luck being rancid at all about it bc anons are still off here :) :) #anyway i love them. so much. #the little shits (affectionate) #kay’s writing #kay’s microfics

[barbiedragon]

a humble request for the champagne and rubies verse - reader has been a very good girl recently so dae and rhae invite aegon in to be her little puppy for one night, letting her get a little bossy not with them of course but enjoying seeing this new side of her 🤭

*chef's kiss* I love this

Champagne and Rubies Masterlist

WC: 1.9 k

Warnings: Puppy play, oral (f receiving), collar/leash, Fem!Domme, hand job, mild humiliation, exhibitionism

*comments/reblogs are appreciated

Your birthday weekend proved to be luxurious and lavish. You enjoyed a getaway, staying at an old family house tucked away in the secluded, rolling hills that laid just past the outskirts of the city.  It was your own private hideaway with Daemon and Rhaenyra–abounding with much-needed peace and quiet.  The cherry on the cake was they had each taken time off from work, so they were all yours. Not only that–apparently, Daemon had a very special surprise in store for you.

After a morning of sipping Rhaenyra’s homemade mimosas and enjoying a brunch featuring lemon ricotta pancakes (those had been catered, Rhaenyra could mix a mean cocktail, but her cooking skills left a lot to be desired), you spent the rest of the day lounging about the large house. You binge-watched a show as Daemon knelt between your sprawled thighs, one of your legs slung lazily over his shoulder while he ate you out.  You still weren’t sure if that Eddie kid was alive or dead, and you didn’t give a fuck as your moans filled the room.  The golden dappled afternoon was spent in the private garden, surrounded by fragrant pink rose bushes as the sun kissed your naked skin.  Your fingers curled against just the right spot to make Rhaenyra shudder beneath you.

As the evening crept in, you soaked in a large bath frothing with blood orange scented bubbles while sipping on another one of Rhaenyra’s concoctions; a Caipirinha.  They were spoiling your taste buds and after savoring cachaça, you were officially hooked.  After the bath, you wrapped into a plush robe and found a few items sitting on the bed for you: a beautiful set of black, skimpy lingerie consisting of a very strappy thong and bra that would barely cover anything, a red cocktail dress with a slit up to the hip and a pair of black Louboutins.  You grinned before sitting down at the vanity to create a smokey, winged eye and neutral lip, sprucing up your hair a bit, before slipping into the garments.  You felt incredibly sexy as you descended the winding staircase, feeling like a femme fatale from an old movie.

Rhaenyra waited for you at the bottom, silver hair falling down her exposed back in gorgeous waves of molten silver. A glittering black dress hugged her body, and she wore a single drop ruby around her neck, the blood red gem dipped tantalizingly against the swells of her breasts.

“Gorgeous,” she praised as she took your hand to pull you close, the warm smell of gardenias tickling your nose. “Dinner is waiting, but Daddy has a surprise for you.”

Both of your heels echoed against the marbled floors as she guided you into the living area.  Daemon lounged on the plush, cream couch, and was decked in Armani red and black.  The scarlet shirt had three buttons undone, exposing his pale flesh and the silver chain he wore.  He looked delicious, but he wasn’t what caught your eye.  

It was Aegon, seated at Daemon’s feet with a black collar secured around his neck. Daemon held the matching leash in one hand.  The young man was bare except for a snug pair of satin black briefs that were slung low on his hips.

“He’s your present for tonight, bunny,” Daemon smirked, giving a little tug on the leash to make Aegon lift his head.  He shook the silver curls from his face before giving you a big grin.  His violet eyes sparkled, and his cheeks were flushed.  He looked every inch a pretty little plaything, a special present that you couldn’t wait to unwrap.

Daemon stood, placing the leather leash in your hand before tilting your chin up to kiss your lips.  “You’re in charge of him.  Happy Birthday.”

A novel thrill ran through you as you tugged gently on the leash to urge Aegon to follow you over to the table.  You were rarely the one to take the lead in your encounters with Daemon and Rhaenyra–not that you minded submitting to them–but you couldn’t deny that the thought of being Aegon’s mistress (if only for a night) gave you an intoxicating rush. Oh, you were going to have fun.

He remained on his knees during the meal, but as he looked at you with meek, imploring eyes, you knew you couldn’t deny your well-behaved pup a few treats. Besides, you soon found that you enjoyed the feeling of his tongue lapping around your fingers as you fed him morsels from your plate.  You even let him sip on your painstakingly made cocktail.  He didn’t seem to be in any distress at all, but you had to check in for peace of mind.

“Are you okay, puppy?  Are you feeling green?” you asked, lightly brushing your fingers through his silver hair, the same shade as Daemon and Rhaenyra’s

“Very, very green,” Aegon grinned, white teeth flashing as he smiled widely.

“Good puppy,” you cooed, giving a small tug on his hair then on the leash. “I want you to have me for dessert, right here.”

That same exhilarating sense of control surged through your body as you stood to rearrange your chair. You wanted to give him space to work, and you wanted them to see.  You hiked the slinky dress up past your hips but left the skimpy thong on before you sat back down.  You swore Aegon’s mouth was watering as you tugged him closer.

“Just your tongue, puppy.”

His face pressed between your damp thighs, pink tongue darting across the black lace as he teased your slick folds through the fabric.  You shuddered when his tongue prodded lightly, sinking inside of you.  He was sloppier than Daemon, eager but not precise.  It was different, but not unpleasant at all.  He steadily tongue fucked you for a few moments before you pushed him away with one high heeled shoe pressed to his shoulder.

“Take them off.”  The order fell from your lips; harsh and commanding, a tone you weren’t accustomed to using.  You were always the pleading mess, begging for more as you were taken apart.

Aegon’s fingers quickly hooked through the black band, tearing them down your legs before trying to push his face back between your thighs.  You tightened your grip on the leash, staring down sternly at him. “Don’t be a bad puppy, you’ll wait until I say.”

Apparently, the scolding made his dick hard as you noticed the tenting of the black satin fabric. He whimpered, giving you the most pathetic puppy dog eyes.  “I forgive you, you’re just so eager to please me,” you purred, letting the leash go slack in your hand, “go on puppy, back to your treat.”

He wiggled his rump, and you giggled, imagining him with a fluffy, silver tail as his warm mouth pressed against your dripping pussy, even sloppier this time as he sought out your clit.  You were lost in the bliss of it all as his tongue circled the tender bud while you slipped one strap of the dress down your shoulder, your fingers delving beneath the black lace of the bra to find your pebbled nipple to pinch.

“Isn’t she so pretty when she’s in charge?” Rhaenyra hummed.

“She certainly is. Our sweet little bunny has a Domme side,” Daemon mused.

Your eyelids fluttered as you bucked against Aegon’s mouth.  “Oh, puppy… I’m gonna…. come…”

The words barely finished spilling from your lips as you rocked against his warm mouth, riding out the orgasm as you left a sticky mess behind.  Aegon obviously wasn’t bothered as he continued suckling and licking, savoring every drop of you. “Such a good little puppy, a very good boy,” you cooed, letting your leg grow slack over his shoulder as his cheek pressed against your inner thigh.

You heard Rhaenyra’s soft moans, so you turned your head to find her riding Daemon at the dinner table with his hand wrapped around her neck.  You smiled, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

“Puppy, take off your shorts and sit on my lap,” you instructed.

Aegon scrambled to obey. He discarded the satin briefs before sitting in your lap, his back pressed against your front.  Your teeth sunk lightly into the apex of his shoulder, leaving behind a smear of lipstick accompanied by a faint purple mark before your hand wrapped around his leaking dick. He wasn’t quite as big as Daemon, but a perfect length for your hand to pleasure.  Your eyes briefly met Daemon’s as you slowly jerked Aegon off.  You didn’t really want anyone but Daemon or Rhaenyra inside of you, but it seemed a shame to not fully enjoy your present.  And, in the spirit of your birthday, you figured everyone should get to come.

You looped the leash tighter around your hand as he wiggled in your lap, giving a small thrust of his hips to drive himself further into your hand.

“I want to hear you beg, puppy.  Whine for me,” you growled into his ear.

Soft whines and pretty whimpers came from him as you sped up your hand.  “Go on, puppy, show me how much you enjoyed this.”

He shuddered as he spilled all over your palm and fingers, growing somewhat limp against you.  You suspected he might not be able to recover as fast as Daemon could, a learned skill, perhaps, so you simply praised him.  “Good puppy!” The rest of the evening became a blur of pain, pleasure, orgasms, liquor, and chocolate drizzled treats.

You woke the next morning, sprawled out like a starfish with your face pressed into the pillow, naked body aching deliciously.  Rhaenyra had a spa day planned for later that afternoon at a local place and you couldn’t wait for a massage to melt it all away.  You tamed your hair before pulling on a comfy robe and slippers before going down for breakfast.  Daemon and Aegon scrolled through their phones, sipping on coffee, and nibbling on fresh croissants.  Your face went hot as the memories from last night replayed through your head.

“Good morning, bunny,” Daemon grinned when he glanced up from his phone.

“Morning!”  You slipped into a chair, loading up a croissant with blackberry jam.  Aegon had a cheeky look on his face as he gave you a nod.  You remembered how, after a few glasses of strong champagne at the launch party for Helaena’s Dreamfyre Boutiques, you had made a teasing comment about how Aegon was cute and reminded you of an eager puppy.  You didn’t think Daemon would have remembered, but you knew better now.

You gave Aegon a wink in return before a milky latte and mushroom stuffed omelet were placed in front of you from one of the caterers.  Bless.

“Where’s Rhae?” you asked.

“Getting another present for you,” Daemon said.

“More presents?” you gasped. “I’m certainly not complaining.”

By the time you finished breakfast, Rhaenyra returned, and you heard the soft scuttle of paws against the floor.  An elegant Doberman stood by her side, clad in a blood red collar with matching leash.  “This is Syrax.  She’s a retired show dog, but I think she’ll make great company for you when we can’t be around,” Rhaenyra smiled.

You immediately rushed over to the dog, stroking her sleek head as you murmured sweet praises.

“You can always call me too…if you’re lonely!” Aegon called out.

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” Daemon snapped possessively.

You tuned out their bickering as you stood to wrap your arms around Rhaenyra’s neck, drawing her in for a deep kiss.  It had been the best birthday ever.

General Tag List: @valeskafics @oneeyedvisenya @borikenlove @watercolorskyy @bloodwyrmcaraxes @willowbrookesblog @aemondx @targaryenbrainrot @megatardisbaby

C&R taglist: @fan-goddess @champomiel @mysingularitybts @spookymicrowave @avengingangelfanfic

#requests #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #champagne and rubies series #daemon x fem!reader #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x female reader #rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra x fem!reader #rhaenyra x reader #daemyra x reader #aegon ii x fem!reader #aegon ii x reader #daemon smut #daemon imagine #rhaenyra smut #rhaenyra imagine #hotd modern au #modern hotd #daemon targaryen x fem!reader #daemon targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x reader

[birgittesilverbae]

ava x beatrice + link

Beatrice stirs, feet kicking against the tuck of the sheets at the end of the bed. Her head throbs as she forces herself up and out of bed, the desire to sink back to sleep overrun only by a deeply ingrained habit. She trips over scattered clothes as she crosses the hotel room, swearing faintly under her breath as she staggers, and then she pulls off her pyjamas and steps into the shower.

Water sluices down over her head, ice cold, and she grits her teeth, tries to settle into it as neurons spark into wakefulness. She yawns, gets a mouthful of water, splutters indignantly and receives an eyeful of spray for her troubles. She swipes the back of her left hand across her eyes, something pulling at her skin with the motion.

Something–

Beatrice blinks her gaze clear, holds her hand out in front of her. Stares in shock at the gold band encircling her left ring finger. That can't be–

//

Ava is jolted into wakefulness by a shout. She rolls over onto her stomach, pulls the pillow over her head. Let that be someone else's problem. Please, let that be someone else's problem. The movement is enough to assure her that she's still edging pleasantly on drunk, hasn't quite tipped into hangover territory yet. Mimosas. Yes. Call down for room service and keep the buzz going. Don't think about–

"What the fuck."

The words are flat, even, a hint of a clipped accent to them. Ava pulls her left hand out from beneath her head and waves it in the direction of the voice. "Not now," she groans as warm, damp fingers catch her wrist. She tries to pull away, but the grip is firm, fingers poking and prodding and then spinning something around her ring finger. "Whaddya doing?"

The pillow is ripped unceremoniously away from Ava's head, and she's rolled roughly onto her back, a beautifully irate face staring down at her. "What," the woman says, her voice strangled, "is this?" She raises her left hand, and Ava spots a ring glinting there.

"A ring," she offers lamely.

"Adroit observation," the woman replies sarcastically, brows pinched. She pulls Ava's left hand up, matches it against hers. Ava folds her fingers, tries to link them together, and the woman stiffens. "Why does it match this?" She taps a ring Ava doesn't recognize, a cheap gold band that sits on her ring finger.

"Oh," is all Ava can think to say. And then, after a moment, she dives for the edge of the bed and retches into the wastebasket.

#warrior nun #ava x beatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #avatrice #ask #the-penguinspy #myfic #mywn #fic: hitched

[highvern]

Slay you deserve a million followers for teach me series. Can I request DK or MG kabedon? 🥹 humor or serious or against all odds angst would make my dreams come true you’re amazing

NGL I had to look up what that was and I can only imagine humor but this ended up super fluffy too im sorry for no angst anon 😔

Please accept this as my apology!!!

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom x fem!reader

Genre: humor, suggestive, fluff

Warnings: reader loves a boozy brunch, and they have a dachshund named Mango,

Note: Mayhaps be read as a long long long away epilogue of Teach Me couple

“Damn, you shit with that ass?” You drunkly smile at your boyfriend attempting to shuffle you inside your shared apartment.

When you swat at the curve of plump flesh, Dokyeom rolls his eyes with a groan. He can’t help but smile despite his exasperation with your antics. Bold comments from you has a special way of turning him into a blushing stuttering mess despite years of dating. Something about the brazen way you declare your interest after so much time together sends his heart into orbit, millions of butterflies filling his chest until he is convinced it’ll explode.

But the hallway of your apartment complex at two in the afternoon on a Sunday is not high on Dokyeom’s list of places to be felt up by his girlfriend. Coupled with the knowledge he only has so much time to get you horizontal before you refuse to move yourself, Dokyeom is too stressed to enjoy the usual banter you supply after too many mimosas at brunch with your friends.

The chilled metal door gives way under your combined weight, throwing Dokyeom forward as his feet fail to find their grounding — a firm thud ricocheting through the space under the bounce of his shoulders against the plaster wall.

A smack! echoes in response under your hand landing above his shoulder, pinning a wide eyed Dokyeom underneath your hips as you’re dragged forward by momentum.

“So…do you come here often?”

“To our house?” Dokyeom responds, eyebrows furrowing in amusement.

Crowding into the limit spacefurther, you watch him through your lashes— failing to realize your attempt at coyish allure leaves you resembling a round eyed calf.

Your slow blinks force a guffaw from his lips, shaking your stomach where it touches his own as the crown of Dokyeom’s skull meets the wall behind him.

Pouting as he works through the last of his giggles, you twirl with a huff; nose in the air as you trudge towards the living room.

Mango doesn’t rise from her sprawl across the couch, belly up as she basks in the sun flooding from the glass doors leading to the balcony. Her long golden hair spills onto the couch beneath her oblong body as she watches her parents with little interest.

Tangling your arms around her, you hold her tightly to your chest. “My baby!”

A sharp bark of displeasure answers, followed by your boyfriend gently setting her back on the couch as you sigh forlornly.

“No one in this house loves me.” You wail, stomping your foot while the familiar heat of Dokyeom’s arms curl around your waist once more.

“C’mon babe, let’s go lay down.”

Digging your heels into the ground, you turn to face him. “You love me, right?”

“Always.” Dokyeom smiles, a sweet kiss between your wrinkled brows signing his confession.

“Ew, I have a boyfriend!” You gasp, failing to wiggle out of his grip.

Distracting you in an effort to coral you into the bedroom, Dokyeom plays along. “Oh?”

“Yeah, and he’ll kick your butt!”

“Will he now?” Dokyeom nods, managing to work you out of the living room and down the hall.

“Yeah! And he’s all big and buff.”

“Oh, really? And he’ll fight me for you?”

You sigh once more, “No, he’s too nice.”

“Too bad.”

“I know, he’s really hot when he’s angry.”

Dokyeom fills that tidbit of information away for later, focusing on slipping the tight denim stretched across your hips down so you can sleep comfortably.

“What else do you like about your boyfriend?” He prompts, lifting each leg to free you from the offending garment before gently pushing you to sit on the bed while he works off your shirt.

Arms raised over your head, you eagerly list of the things you love about your boyfriend; a goofy faraway grin brightening your face.

“He’s the best! He’s funny and he’s really sweet and,”

Continuing to prattle on, you don’t notice the way your boyfriend falters under the praise you so eagerly throw his way.

“And Dokyeom is like perfect with kids especially my nieces! I can’t wait until we have kids.”

Kids.

You want kids. With him.

It wasn’t as if it had never been a topic of discussion. You both had been clear from the start that it was a something you’d wanted. But kids and marriage were always a distant goal for you two, nothing to consider for a least a few more years.

But you think about having kids with him. And suddenly he wonders what it’d be like.

Images of babies fill his head; ones with your eyes and his nose, smart like their mom but with their dad’s sense of humor. Bald and perfectly chubby in that cute way only babies are. Then it’s two little girls filling his ears with shrill giggles as he chases them around the living room with your own laughter chiming in from the couch.

Oh boy.

“But we have to get married first. And you can’t tell him I told you but," Comically looking left and right, eyes impossibly round, you drop into a whisper. "I found a ring in the dresser so I think he’ll ask me soon.”

You rock back and forth, feet kicking just above the shag rug as Dokyeom digs up an old shirt from the very dresser he’s had a certain ring hidden in for the past few months.

Finding his voice, albeit shakily, Dokyeom pries for more information.

“If he asks, what would you say?”

A brilliant smile lights your face — blinding in joy, putting all the wonders of the world to shame. You practically glow as you look up at him with so much emotion Dokyeom thinks he might pass out.

“That I’d love to marry you.”

#svthub #lee dokyeom #lee seokmin x reader #lee seokmin #svt seokmin #seokmin fluff #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #dokyeom x reader #svt x reader #dokyeom fluff #🫡 highvern #answered ask #anon ask #svt

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Bonus Christmas Chapter

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R (p. much just smut)

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This chapter contains smut and Billy using sex to get what he wants . Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~2.3k

A/N : This was written as a bonus chapter for Christmas but I couldn't post it because of where the main story was, so I'm posting it now, late AF. It's pretty much just a cutesy smut fest. Nothing that happens in this chapter will effect the rest of the story.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Bonus Christmas Chapter

On Christmas morning, you’d woken to find Billy sprawled beside you, sleeping so peacefully, that you decided to wake him by slipping beneath the covers and wrapping your lips around his cock. He moaned your name in that sleepy, scratchy tone that always had your thighs clenching, and it wasn’t long until you had him falling apart. But you didn’t want to spend the whole day in bed with him so, before he could come to his senses, you were slipping out of bed and heading for the bathroom, instructing him to stay put.

Once you were done in the shower, you slipped into Billy’s Christmas present;  a red lace lingerie set that was so sheer it was practically see-through, complete with a strappy garter belt and black stockings. Over the top you wore a dark red dress with a satin sash that you pulled into a bow, almost making you look like a wrapped up present.

He was speechless when you finally left the bathroom, but you didn’t give him a chance to do anything more than look before telling him to get showered so you could have breakfast; French toast, bacon and mimosas.

When you were done eating, he took your hand and led you to the tree you’d helped him set up and decorate. Dread coiled in your stomach when you noticed a pile of presents, and the feeling got worse when Billy handed you one.

Carefully, you tore the wrapping paper, revealing a brand new, top of the range mirrorless camera.

“Billy,” his smile waived as you looked at him and he realised you were upset, “this is too much, I can’t accept this.”

Before he had a chance to argue, you were on your feet, heading for the bedroom, feeling like an idiot - how could you have let yourself think that some lingerie would be worth whatever he could get you?

You should have known that something like this would happen, and you felt like an idiot for not anticipating it but - but, now that it had happened, you felt like you were being ungrateful and that wasn't fair to Billy. But, how could you accept a gift that had cost him thousands when all you'd gotten him was ninety dollars worth of lingerie?

“Hey, don’t walk away from me,” his hand on your wrist, pulling you back to face him. He wasn’t angry, he just seemed confused.

“I just need a minute,” you told him, pulling against his grip, but he didn’t let go.

“Talk to me.”

“You can’t spend over five grand on me and expect me to be happy about it,” you blurted out.

“Why not? You’re overthinking it; it’s Christmas. Why can’t I spoil you for Christmas?”

“Because it’s too much, Billy. I don’t need a sugar daddy.”

“Careful, sweetheart, I could get used to you calling me Daddy,” Billy tried to joke.

“I’m being serious!”

He let out a sigh. “I don’t think it’s too much. Not for you. You deserve it - I want you to have it. You know the money doesn’t matter to me.”

“It matters to me, Billy. Especially when all I got you was some stupid lingerie.”

“You got me lingerie?” He grinned, completely missing the point you were making. You slapped his chest with your free hand. “Okay, okay - if you don’t want the camera, we can take it all back. I’ll do whatever you want.”

It was strange for him to relent so easily, but you hoped he was finally starting to understand why his money sometimes made you uncomfortable, but with it being Christmas you didn’t want to argue anymore, so you let it slide.

“Thank you, Billy,” stepping forwards, your hand slipping around his neck and pulling him down into a tender kiss, happy that he seemed to have seen things your way.

“So, about this lingerie...” he grinned against your lips.

You’d wanted to save the surprise for later but, since the cat was out of the bag, you decided to take a step back, indicating the bow of your dress with a wave of your hand.

“Why don’t you unwrap your present and see for yourself.”

His hands were on you in an instant, starting at your shoulders then slowly tracing the low neckline of the dress down to your cleavage, palming your breasts through the fabric before continuing down to the bow. He licked his lips as he looked at you, taking in the sight of you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world to him as he finally started to undo the bow. Once it was open, he turned you so he could get to the zipper, slowly lowering it and, then, letting the dress drop to the floor.

Fingers ran across your bare stomach, urging you back against him, letting you feel the press of his erection against you. You ground your ass back against him until you heard him take a sharp breath, then you stepped away from him, turning so he could get a proper look at you.

Billy froze, his eyes tracking down your body, taking shallow breaths and looking ready to pounce. You swayed your hips from side to side, watching as he fought against his desires. When he still didn’t move, you reached for him, pulling him towards the bed and sitting him down. Climbing onto his lap, your hips continued to sway as you slowly unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. His dark eyes continued to glare and you just smiled, wanting him to do his worst.

“Aren’t you going to finish unwrapping me?” You asked as innocently as you could manage, finally snapping him out of it.

His arm moved around you, fingertips pressing into your back, pulling you closer before he deftly unclasped your bra. You slipped it off while his lips trailed down the column of your throat to your collarbone, your back arching without a second thought, knowing exactly where his lips were headed. Fingers ran through his hair as he sucked a nipple between his lips, teasing it to a hardened nub before moving his attention to the other.

While he enjoyed your breasts, his hand slipped between you and into your panties, smirking when he realised how wet you were. Fingers trailed through your wetness, teasing your clit before sinking into you, setting a languid pace; he wasn’t trying to make you come, he was making sure you were ready for him. He pulled back his fingers as you undid his pants and pulled out his erection, slowly running your fingers up and down him, but you stopped the moment you felt him tug on your panties.

“Don’t you dare tear these panties, Billy.” You tried to sound serious despite the laughter in your voice.

He practically growled in response, fingers still tugging, very obviously thinking about doing it anyway before relenting. His hands gripped your hips and he quickly moved you off his lap and onto the bed, pulling your panties down and gazing down at you as he dropped his pants and boxers.

“As much as I want your legs in those stockings wrapped around my head, I don’t think I can wait to fuck you.” He confessed.

You’d come to learn just what that meant; when he was willing to skip foreplay, it meant he needed you, and when he needed you, things got rough. Just the thought made you tremble with anticipation.

“It’s your Christmas present, you can do whatever you want with it.”

“You’re my Christmas present.” He corrected you, crawling onto the bed beside you. You. Not the sex on offer or the lingerie, you were his present. You were his. “And I’m gonna do whatever I want with you, sweetheart.”

He manoeuvred you onto your side and laid behind you, his hand slowly trailing down your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake. But, despite his tender touches, his ragged breathing told you that this was going to be anything but gentle. Finally, his arm hooked around your thigh, lifting it until it was almost perpendicular to your other leg, leaving you spread wide for him.

You looked down as he curled around you, realising you could see his cock between your thighs.

“That’s right, sweetheart, watch,” he muttered, slowly moving his hips, letting you watch his cock running through your folds. He watched too, slowly building up your arousal until he was coated in it and his tip was starting to leak. Eagerly, you reached down, thumb swiping a bead of pre-cum and bringing it to your lips, earning a growl from Billy, reminding you that he was in charge right now, not you.

To punish you, he started to tease you, pressing the crown of his cock against your slit, letting you feel the slow stretch before pulling back again. He did it over and over, leaving you feeling desperate and needy, moaning his name every time his shaft rubbed against your clit.

“Billy, please -” you finally broke, unable to take any more.

“Say it,” he demanded quietly, his lips brushing against your ear.

“I need you inside me,” you begged.

Finally, he relented, slowly pushing past the threshold of your wet slit. A cry spilled from you, the angle of his cock stretching you, filling you in a way you hadn’t felt before. Billy, likewise, let out a groan, easing you open with inch after inch, holding you close as he sank deeper and deeper.

You whimpered as he bottomed out, but he didn’t give you time to adjust before he started to fuck you with hard, brazen thrusts of his hips. Trembling every time he filled you, his grip on your thigh left you completely at his mercy to take whatever he gave. And Billy gave you everything, swearing and groaning your name as you clenched around him, as you drenched his cock with your arousal.

“Is this what you needed?” He grunted in your ear.

“More,” you moaned, toying with him. “Everything.”

He fucked you harder, faster, filling the deepest parts of you, and by the time you felt his fingers on your swollen clit each breath you took was punctuated with a moan.

“Like this, sweetheart?” he mocked, knowing you couldn’t answer. All you could do was moan. “Always so fucking needy for me, aren’t you?”

(You both already knew the answer to that one.)

Glancing down, just the sight of his fingers working your clit was enough to make you come.

His cock slipped from you without warning, still in the throes of your orgasm, still moaning and writhing beneath him. Getting to his knees, he straddled one thigh while pulling the other around his waist, keeping you on your side as he slipped back between your walls. The new angle had your eyes rolling back in your head every time he filled you.

Noticing your breasts bouncing with each thrust only inspired him to fuck you harder, his hand soon slipping up you body, fingers pinching and tugging at your nipple, the sharp sting bringing an overwhelming mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Mine,” he growled, demanding you admit it; that you were his, that you’d never want anyone else again. But you weren’t there yet, and your denial had him pounding his cock into you even harder, making you come again.

Rolling you onto your back, he pulled up both of your legs as he sank back inside you, lowering his body over yours, letting you feel his weight on top of you. His lips ghosted yours but, when you tried to kiss him, he pulled away, smirking. His movements turned slower, more purposeful, letting you really feel him. It was almost too much after everything you’d already been through, but you soon realised that was the point.

“See how easy it is to empty that head and stop overthinking when you give in to me?” His hand cupped your cheek and he smiled down at you. “This is why you’re mine, sweetheart. No one else will ever make you feel this good.”

As your back arched off the bed, Billy lowered his head, capturing a nipple between his lips, sucking and nipping, while his fingers found the other, tugging and twisting until it ached. It wasn’t long before you started to tremble beneath him, moans stacking and getting louder, nails tearing into his back as you tried to hold on.

You clenched around his cock, so close to coming, when he took hold of your wrists, pinning them above your head.

Then he pulled out.

“Billy -” you practically sobbed, desperate to come, not understanding why he'd stopped.

“Say thank you for the camera, Billy,” he instructed.

You stayed quiet, defiant, realising what he was doing. He wanted to make you change your mind.

Squirming beneath him, you tried in vain to pull from his grasp. His cock filled you again, giving two deep thrusts, almost enough to push you over the edge before pulling out again.

“All you have to say is thank you,” he told you again.

With the way you were bent beneath him, you couldn’t move, couldn’t free yourself. You hated how much you were loving being restrained by him, hated the thrill that ran up your spine as he kept edging you, knowing you well enough to pull out each time you got close. Minutes passed, the demand made over and over, keeping you on the precipice until your eyes were watering and your body was shaking.

But you didn’t ask him to stop. You didn’t want it to end; naively, you thought you could beat him. You couldn’t.

“Thank you!” You finally cried out, broken by him.

“For?” He prompted.

“Thank you for the camera, Billy.” You whined desperately.

“You’re going to keep it, aren’t you?”

Fuck, he’d managed to trap you.

“Yes!”

He grinned, pitching his cock inside you again, fucking you fast and hard enough to finish both of you, his thrusts finally turning languid and lazy as he emptied himself of every last drop inside you, and you clenched around him, unable to stay annoyed as you fought to catch your breath.

“I’m really glad you decided to keep the camera, sweetheart.” Finally letting you lower your legs back to the mattress. And, before you could answer back, his tongue was in your mouth and you were surrendering to him all over again.

END NOTES : I know it's late to be posting a Christmas chapter but I had it written and I thought it was pretty cute (albeit in a smutty fucked up way) and I enjoyed writing it so, here we are. Normal posting schedule will start again on Friday!

Thanks for reading and sticking with all the ups, downs, and dirty parts of this fic!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know some people are having issues with the tags? think you might need to enable tagging on your end of things? IDK tumblr is weird)

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @damagelove @danzer8705 @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote @bisexualbith @uncontainedsmiles @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lilliesofmay @billyrussoslut @readingabouthim

#billy russo #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #cmiyc ff #the punisher #billy russo imagine

[carrotsnake]

Botw/Totk headcanon: Sheikah NPCs beyond Kakariko

after impa being the Last of Her Kind for nearly 20 years, we were kind of spoiled with the era of wilds sheikah. still, kakariko is known for it's older population and botw makes a point to let us know paya isn't used to seeing people her age. this post is about asking 'where are they?' and filling in the gaps. being a peaceful farming village it makes sense the younger gens would want to leave as soon as they can for some adventure.

sheikah typically have hair on the grey-to-white scale (granté proves this isn't a requirement), and unlike the past games they have a greater diversity in eye colour. below is a list of hylian npcs that look too young to have greying hair that i hc are either from kakariko, or have some sheikah ancestry.

from left to right: lecia, letty, mina, her brother mils by proxy, teli, juney, and baumar. i'll go into more detail about each under the cut, comparing them from the 2 games alongside some more headcanons. some of them i haven't found in totk yet, so i'll edit when i do.

pic on the left side is them in botw, totk on the right.

Mina is a treasure hunter looking for loot with her brother by the exchange ruins outside the great plateau. the siblings also show up in the dlc. they're trying to steal a sheikah heirloom back from the yiga hideout, though they don't know it's purpose - they just wanna sell it. in totk she walks on the path between lakeside stable and lurelin. she says that even treasure hunters deserve some fun once in a while, so we can assume she's takin' it easy. Mils, meanwhile...

...joined the zonai survey team, and moans about what tough work it is. he walks through pagos woods to the zonai ruins. he joined in the hopes it would lead him to treasure, but he hasn't had his lucky break yet. most hylians travel from stable to inn and can be assumed not to have a proper home due to the lasting effects of the calamity. this is my bias but i like to think he's talking about kakariko when he mentions home. let him grow some pumpkins and wrangle cuccos. he wishes to live a quiet life.

i find it sweet him and mina are both in faron. maybe they decided to split up and cover more ground? with mina off sunbathing and sipping mimosas in lurelin, mils got the short end of the stick again.

Baumar:

'i hope you die': lazy, cliché, unrealistic. 'i hope your favourite botw npc gets mushroomed and bowlcutted': it's scary, it's possible, it's happening to me right now. such was the fate of our poor resident shield-surfer bro from botw. known for many hit quotes such as 'let's go bamboo! yahoo!', 'shield surfing is like, totally radical, dude', and my favourite:

in botw he rides his horse on the path between serenne and snowfield stable. in totk he's part of the fashion tour-group that run around hateno village. maybe he went to hebra to show his 'wicked' surfing moves to selmie and she said 'kid, if i let you out on the slopes you'll die. sorry'. his world was completely shattered beneath him like a broken shield, so he turned to cravats and puffy short shorts to cope.

his name is similar to the hills of baumer above deya village ruins. maybe he's a descendent of the few survivors. i wonder what his ancestors are thinking now, watching what he does with the gift of life.

Teli walks between fort hateno and hateno village. He sells ancient guardian parts and even mentions he trades them with Robbie. he has a high opinion of himself and tells you he's known across hyrule for his 'roguish good looks.' in totk he's one of the men in the 'Gourmets gone missing' Penn quest that gave himself food-poisoning by riverside stable. after which he scares away some cuccos and makes you wrangle them for a sidequest. just L after L for this dashing rogue.

Juney, now famous for her rupee grinding sand seal minigame, i instantly recognised as the epic divorce woman from rito village. her attitude is just as surly as ever but they gave her a soft side. i like that every minigame location could not be further from hateno. you'll find that school someday queen.

she was a newly wed mad at her husband, jogo, for choosing a cold place for their honeymoon. he begs you to give him flint to cook some baked apples for her to save their already failing marriage.

in totk they're not together, jogo inhabits a cabin in tabantha village ruins with another woman. he didn't give her enough baked apples.

Letty walks along the path between lakeside stable and lurelin. she gives you cooking tips and that's pretty much it. i'm pretty sure i've met her as a yiga disguise more often than i've seen the real her. if anyone has found her in totk, please let me know.

Lecia is a new character in totk. she's with the research team and plays a part in the foothill stable Penn quest. she kind of looks like a grown up Koko. maybe a distant relative? but maybe she's not sheikah. maybe the sight of all those pasty naked man nips traumatised her so bad she got marie-antoinette syndrome from the shock. i haven't seen her since.

thank you if you read to the end. to clarify i'm working on some fic stuff and that entails finding npcs across the overworld to give some more lore. it's a sheikah focused fic so i needed some characters other than the kakariko residents. it's also just fun fleshing out random npcs to make the world feel more lived in. again, i'm missing some details like what mina does before you save lurelin, so i'll edit this post in the future.

#totk #totk theory #tears of the kingdom #loz sheikah #totk headcanons #loz theory #botw #sheikah #loz totk #legend of zelda #loz headcanons #totk npc #botw npc #totk mina #totk mils #totk juney #totk teli #totk baumar #totk lecia #totk letty #mils and mina #loz

[dubious-writing]

💙 dunnernlars <3

💙 drunken kiss / tipsy

Let’s have some no plot fluff in these trying times. This ended up being a whole 782 words, so I'm gonna put it under the read more. Hope you like it anon!!

“Well someone has been having fun, I see.”

When Vince had dropped Adam off at the restaurant earlier this morning, leaving his fiance with a peck to his lips and their friends with a quick wave, the table had been full of rowdy hockey players excited to see each other for the first time outside of a game in months. Various members, current and old, of the Oilers and Devils had taken up residence in a large corner booth, a couple tables shoved over to create even more seats. Wolf whistles and kissing noises had followed Vince back out the door, making him giggly enough to turn around with one last cheeky smile and blow a kiss to Adam who looked about as red as his hair.

Now, three hours, several shopping bags, and matching melted iced lattes with his mother later, Vince returns to the little open air diner to find most of the guys leaning on either each other or the tables still littered with dishes. When Adam said he was meeting some friends for ‘brunch’, Vince didn’t realize he meant the bottomless mimosas Adam refuses to admit he likes kind of brunch.

There are still a few sober holdouts amongst the group that just shrug at him, a what can you do? motion that Vince returns with an exasperated but fond sigh. Adam had been leaning on… Nugent-Hopkins? It’s hard to tell past the massive sunglasses on the guy’s face, but whoever he is, he jumps at the sound of Vince’s voice, jolting Adam back upright into consciousness. For a minute, he just looks blearily around the room, blinking slowly as if to get his vision to come into focus. Vince really needs to make him that appointment with the optometrist when they’re back in Seattle.

Eventually, his eyes manage to catch on Vince standing on the other side of the table, and his lips spread into the widest, dopiest grin Vince has ever seen on him.

“Hi sw’theart.”

Vince lets the hand his fiance struggles to raise beckon him to round the table, enduring the back pats and ass taps he gets along the way from guys he hasn’t seen in a while. Once he’s in range, Adam spins in his chair - very nearly toppling himself right out of it - so he's sitting sideways facing Vince. Vince steps into the open ‘V’ of his legs, resting his hands in auburn hair, feeling strong fingers hook into the loops of his jeans.

“Hi. Were you having a good time?”

Adam nods, eyes falling half-lidded but smile just as strong. “Better now that you’re here.”

“Looks like I missed a lot of fun, huh?”

There are various gurgles and groans rising from the heads still pressed into the table around them. Nugent-Hopkins - maybe? - doesn’t make a sound; Vince isn’t sure he’s even awake anymore.

“Missed you.”

“Sweet talker. You just want me to bring you Advil in bed and cook dinner later.”

Adam doesn’t reply to that, just continues to gaze up at Vince with what can only be described as literal heart eyes. Vince just shakes his head at the sight, but a small smile is tugging at his own lips. He can never resist that look.

“C’mere.” Suddenly Adam is tugging at his arms, trying to get Vince to bend down to his level. Thick fingers come up to frame his face, brushing along the thin skin beneath his eyes, trailing along his cheekbones.

Vince is helpless, couldn’t pull away even if he wanted to, just lets himself be admired by the love of his life, admires him in return while he’s got the chance. After a few minutes of lovestruck gazing, during which more pitiful moans are heard from the background, Adam pulls him forward to place the gentlest of kisses on the tip of his nose.

“Du betyder allt för mig.”

Vince knows he turns red immediately, can feel the burn of flushed skin beneath the warmth of Adam’s hands on his cheeks. Adam always knows exactly what to do to make him melt. Judging from the smug look on his face and the way he’s leaning in for a proper - albeit slightly off center - kiss, he still knows what he’s doing, drunk as he is.

There’s only about one wolf whistle this time, though it’s weak and half-hearted, petering out about halfway through. Still, it reminds Vince that they have an audience, and he doesn’t want to give them any more chirping material than they already have - if they even remember any of it.

“Come on, Kärlek,” Vince says with a laugh when Adam stumbles into him upon attempting to stand. “Let’s get you home.”

#vince dunn #adam larsson #dunnernlars #larsdunn #seattle kraken #hockey #hockey rpf #my writing

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Lovers & Friends (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Keigo Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which you and Keigo have begun to realize the strange new feelings you both have for each other after one drunken night at a close friend’s wedding that ends with you in his bed, but because of your longtime friendship and committed relationships with other people, you’re more than happy to forget that night even happened and keep your mutual feelings in the dark…for now, at least. 

Story Warnings: Smutty smut; 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY); Cheating/Infidelity; Mating; Light Degradation; Spanking; Exhibitionism; Multiple Positions; Creampie; Unprotected PIV Sex; Facials; Scent Play; Marking; Spitting; Deepthroating; Cunnilingus; Begging; Edgeplay; Power Play; Daddy Kink; Some Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Mild Violence

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic (except for Rei and Haruko). However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: AO3 is down & supposedly leading people to a scammy site looking to steal personal info, so for now, these 2 chapters are staying on Tumblr until further notice. It's ALWAYS something, I s2g. -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Bonus Chapter.

Read on AO3 here!

************

Chapter Six: Sex on the Beach.

Keigo swears your ass has never looked better than it does in your perfect, little peach-colored dress. 

He would be lying if he said he hasn't been watching the damn thing bounce and jump beneath your sundress ever since you hit the dance floor. Rumi continuously hyping you up doesn’t make it any better. “Yeeeesss, Y/N!” she screams over the music, just as drunk as you are. “Fuck it uuuuup!” 

You are happy to do so, bending your knees even more and tossing ass like it’s no one’s business. Keigo does his best to not stare, instead trying to focus on the other drunk guests who are worse off with their dance moves.

However, a certain someone doesn’t allow him to do so when he walks up next to him with a low whistle. “Looks like someone is feeling the champagne,” Fatgum chuckles, holding a whiskey glass in his hand. 

“Shit, she’s been feelin’ it for hours now,” Keigo sighs as he and Fatgum watch you buss it to the music, your braids in your face and drink in your hand. You’ve gathered the eyes of a few men since your second mimosa, including the staff, the DJ, and a few pros who don���t know what’s good for them. They only stopped when Keigo looked at them like he had a Glock in his suit pocket for them if they kept eyeing his friend down. 

He supposes that he should take the blame for your carefreeness though. He loves seeing you completely free of all your worries, especially about your asshole boyfriend.

But he also knows drunk you can get into some trouble. He remembers that one Halloween when you got so drunk at Nemuri’s masquerade party that you nearly made out with someone you thought was Rei wearing the same colored mask. Or that time Dabi whipped you up his own cocktail and had you skinny-dipping in Keigo’s pool. 

He’s had his own fair share of embarrassing, drunk stories though. And plus, seeing you throwing ass and laughing your pretty laugh is much better than seeing you down in the dumps for Rei. Keigo knew for a fact that the dickhead made you cry earlier. You would’ve never ventured away from the wedding if he hadn’t. Keigo knows you like he knows his favorite book, which means patron shots were definitely the way to ease your broken heart. 

He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t tell you to run the story back for him. He just wanted to see you smile and enjoy today…only those patron shots turned into a chocolate martini and two glasses of mimosas hours later. He knows he’ll have to scrap you up off the floor later, but if he is forced to do that, plus curb the hard-on struggling against his suit slacks as he watches you dance, he’ll do that. After all, you deserve to be happy. 

He decides to attempt to distract himself again by turning to Fatgum, averting his eyes from the arousing scene. “So how’s it feel to be a married man now?” He asks, nodding at Fathom’s wedding band. “Do you feel any differently?” 

Fatgum looks at him with a happy gleam in his eye. “To be honest with you, Hawks, not really,” he sheepishly replies. "It feels great to finally be married to the one I love more than anyone in this world, but the way I feel for Haruko wouldn’t have changed even without a ring.” He looks down at his wedding band, a small, adoring smile on his lips. “I guess I thought a ring would’ve made it more real, you know?” 

Keigo doesn’t know. He couldn’t think of knowing…at least that’s what he tells himself. However, the image of you in a wedding dress walking down the aisle is a little too vivid for him. The only one he’s ever loved is you, but none of that could ever see the light of day. It’d ruin everything.

So he gives Fatgum a smile and pretends that he knows exactly what he’s talking about. “Well, if you ask me, it looked real from the very start,” he chuckles. 

Fatgum gives him a grateful smile, a twinkle in his eye. Keigo envies him. How would it feel to feel so deeply about someone who feels the same about you so openly? Fatgum and Haruko looked so in love today. Every time they looked at each other, even when the other wasn’t looking, Keigo saw nothing but acceptance, adoration, and pure love. It is hard not to be jealous of such a thing. 

“Girls, girls!” Yu suddenly hollers, red in the face and obviously gone off the champagne. She runs onto the dance floor towards you and Rumi, her overexcited behavior causing you to stop dancing. ”Haruko is about to throw the bouquet!”

Keigo looks towards where Yu is pointing and surely enough, Haruko is standing near the snack table where a crowd of women have begun to surround her, just as excited. Something about seeing Haruko, so happy and giggly, in her wedding dress and Fatgum smiling at her with such love in his eyes does something to Keigo.

Fatgum’s haunting words from his bachelor party come back to him, rising out of the fog in his tipsy mind: ’Those bachelor days won’t last forever…’ 

Keigo clears his throat, knowing now is the right time to bare himself to his friend. He turns to him, forcing his wings to not tremble. “Hey, listen; I’m sorry for what happened at your bachelor party…you know, when we were playing pool at the bar. I didn’t–” 

“Stop.” Fatgum’s voice is firm but not unkind. He gives Keigo a reassuring smile, the sunset in his eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for, Hawks. You have your opinion and I’ve got mine. I’m just glad you’re here and showed up for me as my best man.” He pats Keigo on the shoulder with his big hand. “When Y/N comes down off her high, thank her for coming too.” 

“You’re leaving?” Keigo curiously asks. Fatgum gives him a mischievous smirk. “After Haruko throws the bouquet and I get my hands on that garter, hell yeah. Speaking of which…” He pulls on Keigo’s arm, walking him farther away from the crowd that has begun to grow around Haruko. “You might wanna stand back.” 

Keigo is glad Fatgum saved him because he definitely would’ve gotten trampled by the slew of screaming guests wanting their chance at catching Haruko’s bouquet. Among them are you, Nemuri, Yu, and Rumi, excitedly jumping up and down as Haruko turns around to toss the bouquet of flowers behind her. As soon as they go flying, the crowd reacts, jumping as high as they can to catch it.

You prove to be victorious when the bouquet tumbles in the middle of the crowd and you snatch it up, nearly losing a shoe. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it!” you practically scream, excitedly jumping up and down.

While half of the guests applaud you and the others give you dirty looks, Keigo silently stares at you with the bouquet in your hands. That image of you gliding down the aisle in your wedding dress comes back to him again like a nagging mosquito, pestering him further. What bothers him even more is the look he’s picturing on your face: so full of love; a mirror of Fatgum’s expression when he looked at Haruko walking down the aisle. It is so vivid that it frightens him. 

“Keigo?” a small voice asks behind him. The man nearly has a heart attack when he turns around and sees Sakura standing there. He realizes that Fatgum is gone and the bouquet crowd has dispersed, leaving him standing there like an idiot staring at you. God, he's down bad.

“Hey, babe, you’re up!” he chirps, moving to kiss Sakura’s forehead which he notices feels heated and clammy. “Everything alright?” 

Sakura had been sleeping in one of the extra tents for the majority of the wedding after her third glass of champagne. Keigo figured he’d just let her rest while he acted a fool for the rest of the event until it ended. “I feel awful,” she groans, putting a hand on her stomach. “My nap was interrupted by my stomach. That lobster I ate must not be settling right.”

Keigo’s brain pedals back to Sakura’s plate which consisted of a side salad, pasta, and lobster meat slathered in butter and lemon. “Aw, shit, babe,” he coos empathetically. He moves toward her, wanting to gather her up in a hug. “I’m so-“ 

“Keigo!” Rumi shouts, from the dance floor. She has an empty glass in her hand and is barefoot. “They’re playing your song!” The song in question is from Rihanna’s ANTI album and the way he watches you twirl your ass and hips around makes him love it even more. His eyes flick back to Sakura’s, feeling horribly guilty and disgusted with himself. He shouldn’t be gawking at a whole other woman, especially his best friend. 

Sakura gives him a reassuring smile, nudging him towards the dance floor. “Go on and have fun. I’ll be fine.” But he refuses, shaking his head. “You won’t be fine to me until I know you’re home safe,” he firmly says, already taking her hand to lead her to the parking lot. “Here, I’ll drive you home. It’s no problem.” 

“But you’re still having fun here,” she protests, slipping her hand out of his grasp. “Don’t let me ruin tonight for you just because I’m feeling sick, Keigo. Seriously, go have fun. I’ll call you when I get in the Uber I’m gonna order.” 

The sound of your high-pitched laugh drifts in the air, making Keigo’s heart pick up speed. Though Sakura is giving him permission to go and have fun, he’d feel even more like a horrible person and boyfriend if he were to listen to her.

“Nah, fuck that,” he huffs stubbornly. As a waitress walks by with a tray of plates and glasses, he snatches up a water bottle and hands it to Sakura. “Stay here for a minute and drink that.” 

He doesn’t wait for Sakura to agree or protest before rushing over to the dance floor where his four friends are still acting up. “Hey, you crackheads gonna leave soon so the cleaning crew can do their job?” he hollers. You pout at him cutely, a glass in one hand and Haruko’s bouquet in the other.. “But the music is still going!” you whine in protest. 

“Only ‘cause you’re still here, baby bird. All four of you.” He nods at you, Rumi, Nemuri, and Yu–all equally as drunk and in need of sleep. “The reception is over anyway. Haven’t you noticed the dance floor emptying out or were you too busy tossin’ out your best stripper moves?” 

You begin to look around in a daze, realizing that the staff is cleaning up and guests are beginning to head to the parking lot. Rumi giggles, nudging her hip with yours. “The birdie’s right, y’all. I noticed the place has been getting kinda dry ever since the cake was sliced and the bouquet was thrown.” 

“Which I’ve still got!” you proudly yell, waving the flowers around. “Which means I’m gonna eventually find a love that I’ll marry and the rest of you single bitches can kiss my black ass.” You take a handful of your ass in your dress and squeeze it, making the girls giggle and Keigo want to kill himself. Why the fuck do you have to be so goddamn fine? 

“So what do we do now?” Rumi asks. “Just go home and wallow in our depression?” 

“That could be an option,” Keigo chuckles, “but I was suggesting we take this party somewhere else. Preferably a nightclub downtown. Anybody down?”

Your entire face changes as you gape at him at the sound of more partying. “Yes!” you excitedly shout, jumping up and down with your bouquet. “I need to shake my ass some more!” 

Nemuri sighs tiredly, her arms wrapped around Yu’s waist. “As much as I’d love to join, but I need to get this one home.” She smiles at Yu who looks like she’s about to drop, her head against Nemuri’s shoulder. “Plus, I’m in need of my beauty sleep,” she yawns, putting a dainty hand to her open mouth. 

“And I’m in need of finally getting my hands on that guitarist,” Rumi purrs, eyeing the same short-haired, Amazonian woman with the perky ass and dark skin she’s been lying up all day who is currently packing her electric guitar away with the wedding band. 

“Say no more,” Keigo snickers. “Guess this is where we say goodnight, ladies?” Nemuri blows him a kiss while Rumi gives him a tight hug. “Try not to get in too much trouble, okay?” she laughs with a wink.

She turns to you, pointing a finger at you. “And you…be careful with that bouquet.” That obviously means for you to be on your best behavior too. You just giggle which gives Keigo the impression that you’ll be doing none of that. 

Once the crew finally disbands for the evening, you come walking up to him, stumbling a bit as you do. Instantly, he grabs your arm and hooks it through his to steady you. He doesn’t need you falling and busting up your (pretty) face. “Soooo when we goin’?” you cutely ask, a small hiccup in your voice. 

“Lemme drive Sakura home and I can drive us there afterward.” He doesn’t say anything else as he escorts you over to Sakura who is still standing in the same spot he left her in. “Got somebody carpooling with us, babe!” he cheerfully states, walking you over to Sakura. She smiles at you, sipping on an ice-cold Ginger Ale can that he definitely didn’t give her. “Where’d you get that Ginger Ale?” he curiously asks. 

“Oh, your friend gave it to me,” she happily replies. “Snipe!” She points over to the snack table where guests are busy stuffing their takeout containers full of leftovers. Sure enough, pro hero Snipe is over there, wearing his mask and a cowboy hat with his navy blue wedding suit, stuffing a container full of shrimp. 

Keigo bites the inside of his cheek, wondering if he should say something. He’s never had an issue with Snipe and this could’ve been purely innocent, but why he decided to talk to his girlfriend now while he wasn’t with her doesn’t rub him the right way. “C’mon, you two,” he grumbles, wrapping his arms around you and Sakura and quickly escorting you away from the wedding. 

The ride to Sakura’s apartment is surprisingly smooth and quick despite it being a Friday night. When he rolls up to her building and parks, he tells you to stay up and walks Sakura up to the steps to the lobby door despite her protests. He stays at the bottom steps, watching over her as she digs into her clutch for her keys. “You sure you’re okay with gettin’ inside?” he worriedly asks.

She looks down at him, the soft glow of the apartment building lights illuminating her pink hair and eyes. I’m perfectly okay with unlocking my own door, babe,” she giggles. “Now go shake your tail feather with Y/N.” 

He cracks a smile at her little joke and gives her a kiss on the cheek before she walks into the lobby. “Call me if you need anything, alright?” he calls after her, only to get a wave in response. When she finally disappears inside the building, he walks back to his car and slips into the driver’s seat.

You’re sitting in the passenger’s seat, feet up on the dashboard, and chomping down on leftover wedding cake. “She okay?” you ask, looking concerned. 

Keigo nods, strapping himself in. “Just a stomach bug; nothing to worry your drunk ass about. All you need to worry about is havin’ some fun with your very best friend.” He pokes at your forehead and laughs when you swat at him. 

“So where are we goin’ anyway?” you curiously ask, a small, excitable smile adoring your glossy, plump lips.

Keigo just grins at you before starting the car. 

************

When Keigo finally pulls up to his favorite downtown nightclub, the place is completely packed. 

Clubhouse, one of Keigo's favorite nightclubs, is one of the most high-end places that Musutafu has to offer. Located in a five-star hotel, it comes with the best customer and bottle services, great music, and security guards who take the privacy of pro heroes very seriously, as does the manager. Keigo knows the guy. He had saved his life after a couple of stupid kids tried to rob the joint a year ago. Since then, he gets free bottle service and a free hotel room if he doesn't feel like flying or driving home after a nightly romp. 

He has spent a few nights at the five-star hotel he pulls up to…okay, maybe more than a few. He’s told you many of these stories that ended in drunk sex and waking up in a hotel suite, not remembering much that happened that night before. You also know he enjoys this spot over others because of the infinity pool they have on the rooftop that you have yet to take a dip in.

Hopefully, tonight, once the liquor starts talking, that will change. 

The club is jumping once Keigo parks in the valet and escorts you inside the five-star hotel. Stretching over three stories high with balconies, stairways upstairs to the bars, and crystal chandeliers, he can see bodies from head to toe. Shadows dance on the walls, illuminated by the strobe lights flashing in time with the pop music blasting from overhead.

He can feel his heart pound and his stomach jump excitedly with the vibrations of the music and the sparklers he sees bottle girls carry with them on trays of the most expensive vodka for parties of four and five. 

He is completely in his element while, unbeknownst to him, you feel out of place. “Okaaay, birdie,” he whistles, an easy smile on his face. “So we’re here…now what?”

He turns to you, noticing the frown on your face. “I have no idea,” you admit sheepishly. “It’s like now that I’m sobering up, I’m less hype to be here.” 

Keigo tuts disappointedly, taking your hand in his and ignoring the way his body sings at your touch. “That ain’t no good. Come on.”

He escorts you through the throng of bodies, ignoring the folks who gape and gawk at him. The most he’s gotten here are people begging for pictures and autographs, plus the occasional groupie. But other than that, he’s never had any trouble here. He knew it was the perfect place to bring you to get over your heartbreak. 

He leads you over to the bar and settles down next to you in a booth. “Bartender!” he hollers, waving him over.

The young man turns to him, looking bored out of his mind before he gets a look at Keigo’s face. “Yeah, it’s me, Hawks pro hero number two, nice to meet ya.” He flashes him a big, gigawatt grin. “Listen, can I get a round of tequila shots?” 

The bartender vigorously nods. “And for your girlfriend, sir?” he curiously asks. Keigo almost asks the guy what the hell he’s talking about until he realizes that he means you.

You stare at each other, both shocked. “O-Oh, no, we’re not…” You trail off, your words dying in the tense air around you. Keigo can’t speak, his mouth too dry to do so. “H-He’s just my friend,” you softly stammer. “Just a Sex on the Beach for me.” 

He tries not to let on how much that stung him: he’s just my friend. But that’s what he is, isn’t he? That’s what he's always been.

You go to take out your wallet, but like the good friend he is, he pushes your hand away. “Uh-uh, put it back,” he sternly says. “Your date just left you at a wedding, baby bird. The least I can do is pay for your drink.” 

He pulls out fifty and hands it to the bartender who hurries to get your orders. “I still can’t believe he did that,” you sigh, disheartened. “All I wanted was to try and spice things up for us sexually, and…” You put a hand to your chin, staring off into the distance, your mind somewhere else. 

“So what exactly happened?” he softly asks, trying to pull you back to reality. With him. “If you feel like talking, that is.” 

You surprisingly budge. “I asked Rumi for advice on how to make our sex better, so she suggested either spicing things up with some kinks I enjoy or talking to him about what I like.”

You cross your gorgeous legs on the stool and Keigo has to force himself to keep his eyes firmly on yours. “I’d figured a quickie would’ve been fun, but he wasn’t with it, and my drunk ass took that as an insult, so I asked for a break.” 

“Did you break up with him?” he asks, hoping to God you’ll say yes. Only because Red is such a dickhead. You look away, staring instead at the polished mahogany of the bar. “Not…technically…” 

Keigo scowls at your cryptic answer. “Da fuck’s that mean?” he scoffs, confused. You flush under the strobe lights, tapping your acrylic nails against the bar. “I asked for a break at least until the Gala since he’s so hellbent on getting his award. I didn’t want to distract him from his work.” 

“Distract him?” he parrots, the words tasting sour to him. “Y/N, if he barely has time for you because he’s too busy trying to win a fuckin’ award, then he has no busy dating you, period. He doesn’t even realize what he’s got.” You smile shyly at his words, but he is being deadass with you. He could’ve shaken you right then. Why don't you understand how special you are?

“So now you’re single…for now, at least?” he questions, doing his best to not sound hopeful or completely interested in your dating life. Your shoulders slump as you cup your cheek in your hand, your pretty lips pouting. “I guess so. Maybe I should just get like Rumi and just sleep with whoever for the hell of it.” 

He smacks the bar, encouraging your sexual liberation. “That’s the spirit!” he encourages. The bartender returns with your drink and the round of tequila shots. “Oh, look; your drink! Be careful with this one. It’s fruity and sweet so you may wanna drink it less like it’s water.”

You do so, sipping slowly on your Sex on the Beach. As soon as the liquid hits your tongue, your eyes adorably widen. “Mmm!” you hum, eyes blown and face written in joy. “Holy fuck, this is amazing!”

You wave down the bartender, animately waving your arm around. “Bartender, gimme another one of these!” Keigo stares at you, doing his best to hold back a grin. “What?” you scoff. “I’m single and sad, okay? Let me have fun!” 

He raises his hands in defense. “I didn’t say anything,” he snickers. He then passes you a shot glass and picks up his own, raising it. “To complicated relationships.” You nod, giggling tipsily. “And fuck love!” you shout before downing your shot. Keigo does the same, downing his shot and letting the tequila burn his throat before he sucks on the lime it comes with. 

For the next hour, you’re downing shots and sipping on your two Sex on the Beaches like it’s no one’s business. Of course, Keigo makes sure you take a couple sips of water in between your alcohol splurging, but even he is starting to feel the buzz of the tequila as he gives you side glances here and there, checking you out. Your legs and chest are starting to look way too good, and his cock agrees–he’s been trying to curb the boner he is sporting for the past hour now. 

When you start to feel real good and loose, one of your favorite 2000s Rihanna songs starts playing from overhead, and the vibe in the club completely shifts. You gasp happily, hopping off of your stool. “Oooh, this is my shit!” you squeal, already moving onto the dance floor. “Kei, come dance with me!”

You grab his hand and try to pull him over to the dancing bodies on the floor, but he barely budges. “Nah, but I’ll watch in case I need to drag you out of there.” 

You pout but wave him off and go off to dance alone. He watches you walk away from the sidelines, drinking in how your ass sways and bounces as you strut. When you start to dance, he just about has a heart attack. He can’t keep his eyes off of your hips, legs, or the curve of your back. Not to mention the way you bounce and twirl that ass of yours.

He inhales deeply, doing his best to keep calm, but it feels as if he’s about to explode. How dare you be so fucking sexy? What the fuck is your problem? 

He is so thankful when his phone vibrates in his pocket because he can’t promise he wouldn’t have tried to jump you on the dance floor. He slides his phone out of his pocket and grins at the caller ID, answering it without a second thought. “Well, I didn’t think I’d hear your lovely voice tonight,” he cheerfully says, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Now you got somethin’ to nut to later,” Dabi chuckles in his gravelly, deep tone. “I’ve been told my voice is a panty dropper.” 

“Well, for the chicks who dig chain smokers, sure,” Keigo wittily replies, earning a guttural laugh from Dabi in response. “What are you callin’ me for? You got your perks back?” 

“For my free days, no, and they cut my phone calls short since they’re still investigating that riot.” Dabi sighs, evidentially frustrated. “I got about ten minutes left. You still at the wedding? Where’s Y/N and Rumi at?” 

Keigo turns to you, ignoring the way you swirl your hips or how you’d look on top of him. “Y/N, it’s Dabi on the phone!” he calls to you over the music before speaking to Dabi again. “We left and we’re at a club. Rumi couldn’t hang, so it’s just me and Y/N.” 

You skip over to him, your gorgeous titties bouncing and braids swaying down your back. “Dabi!” you scream into the phone, no doubt taking Dabi’s eardrum out. “Oh, my God, Dabi, I miss you soooo much! You’re such a dick for not bein’ here!” 

“Jesus, girl, you’ve been drinking?” Dabi questions, and Keigo pictures him rubbing at his ear that you just screamed into.

You giggle hysterically, nodding despite him not being able to see you. “Yes, sir! Since the reception ended!” When the music transitions to Beyoncé’s Virgo’s Groove, you just about have a heart attack. “Kei, you have to dance with me! They’re playing Renaissance tracks!” You tug on his arm to no avail before running back to the floor like a fire lit under your ass. 

“She’s on the dance floor now,” Keigo sighs. “The girl is a fuckin’ wreck tonight.”

Dabi chuckles into the phone. “I’m guessing things didn’t go well with the bum she’s been laggin’ around?” It isn’t a secret that Dabi hates Rei’s guts too; he’s just more open about it because Dabi don’t give a fuck. 

“I’ll let her tell you, but to put it bluntly, yeah,” Keigo replies. “So now she’s here, single with her back and legs out.”

That back where he’d love to run his tongue down your spine, caressing the soft skin that contrasts with his own. And those legs that he wants wrapped tight around his waist as he strokes the gummy walls of your pussy, pushing you further into euphoria until you explode all over him. 

Dabi snorts to himself, finding Keigo’s dilemma funny. “So which do you want?” he asks. “The back or the legs?”

Keigo blushes red, glad for the dimness of the club. “Shut up,” he growls. “You know I’m seeing someone right now.”

Dabi scoffs at this, calling it bullshit as he usually does. “Someone you barely talk about and that I’m sure you barely think about. When the fuck are you gonna bite the bullet and stop beating around the bush with her, man?” 

Keigo pinches the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want a lecture. Not right now. “Dabi, you know better than anyone why I can’t do that. We’ve been friends since middle school. I can’t just tell her all of that shit. Plus, Y/N is in a vulnerable space right now. I’m just here to comfort her.” He would never forgive himself if he let his dirty thoughts make a horrible decision for him and possibly ruin your friendship. 

He looks at you now to ensure you’re okay, but is utterly confused and alarmed to find someone from the crowd watching you too. He wears a button-down that is way too tight for him and stands a good foot taller than Keigo. His eyes are lecherous and greedy as he watches you move to the music like water, your moves effortless and enchanting.

“Kei, you there?” Dabi asks. “Bitch, you’d better not have hung up on me.” 

Keigo doesn’t answer, too hyper-focused on the wolf stalking its prey. That prey being you, his beautiful best friend. Once he sees him move through the throng of people to get you, Keigo is bothered. "Hold up, Dabs. I’ve gotta go.” 

“Someone’s tryna shoot their shot at her, aren’t they?” Dabi asks, not even needing any confirmation. He just knows Keigo like that. “Send a picture to me when you’re done with ‘em.”

Keigo hangs up without replying and immediately stalks onto the dance floor. As he does, he watches the stranger brush your waist much to Keigo’s dislike. You jump and turn to him, looking alarmed despite his big grin. Your mouth moves to say something, probably a polite decline to his offer, but the stranger continues to push and even takes your hand in his. 

Keigo is seeing red. How dare he touch you? When he is finally a foot away from you is when he starts to hear your conversation in full. “C’mon, baby, what’s the problem?” the stranger asks, still wearing that stupid, predatory smile. “You’ve been dancing like you need something in you anyway!”

You glare at his nasty words, your hand balling into a fist. “I told you I’m not interested,” you snarl at him, yanking your hand free. “Leave me alone.” 

The fucker still doesn’t take that as an answer and continues to bother you, and Keigo. “Can’t I just get one dance?” he asks. He even pushes up on you, trying to take your hand again.

You’ve just about had it and roughly shove him back away from you. “I said leave me alone, asshole!” you snap at him, alarming the rest of the club hoppers surrounding you. The man’s face is written in annoyance before it morphs into a rage that is only caused by rejection. 

There is no doubt in Keigo’s mind that this man will possibly hurt you. He steps in before he can be proven right. “Hey,” he sternly says, his tone on the edge of a warning. He wedges himself between you and the man, his wings blocking you from his angered view. “She said to leave her alone. I suggest you listen.” 

The man’s eyes widen in recognition and then he begins to laugh. “You’re with him? Hawks?” He says it like he can’t believe it, even laughing to himself. “Shit, I didn’t know you were his already!” he guffaws despite your discomfort. He goes to pat Keigo on the arm but Keigo dodges his touch. “Hey, man, you’ve got a loyal bitch on your arm. You really must be paying good for that pussy.” 

That’s all it takes for Keigo to lose his cool. All self-control begins to unravel and he feels himself shifting from the cool, calm, and collected Hawks into someone else. Someone who is less willing to reason or let things go. His wings, glowing crimson red in the strobe lights, puff up and ruffle as if someone is running their hands through them and his eyes go dark.

You, the asshole, and every single witness surrounding him react with shared alarm, realizing that what may take place on the dance floor tonight won’t be a friendly dance battle. 

Keigo begins to close the gap between himself and the man until their noses are nearly brushing. The man is too afraid to move. “Listen, dickhead,” he growls, his voice dangerously low. “you caught me on a good night since a friend of mine just got married, but lemme give you some advice: you shouldn’t talk like that about people you don’t know, especially women. You best realize who the fuck you’re talking to.”

His feathers ruffle once more, making the man flinch. “I think you need to leave ‘cause you’re startin’ to really piss me off,” he whispers sinisterly. 

Before the man can reply, Keigo moves away and takes your hand in his, about to whisk you away from the BS. Whether he felt embarrassed and is trying to save face, or because he likes ruffling Keigo's feathers, the asshole speaks again. “I can see why you went for her in the first place,” he cackles. “I’d kill to take that body home with me.” 

Keigo stops, his body tense. Your hand grips his and he looks down at you, seeing how big your eyes are. ‘Don’t,’ they read.

He is willing to listen and let this shit go for you, until the dickhead opens his mouth yet again. “Just don’t let her out of your sight!” the man yells. "Bitches like her always go for the next dick.” 

Then all Keigo sees is red like a bull and goes haywire. He zooms past everyone and everything at the speed of light and is on top of the man immediately. The crowd shouts in shock and disperses as he lays one fist after another in the man's face, drawing blood from his lips and mouth. “Keigo!” you shout, your voice high and shrill with fear. “Keigo, stop it!” 

He ignores you, too focused on making the man feel pain for what the nasty things he said. For being disrespectful. “I just said to watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he snarls through gritted teeth. “You know who the fuck you’re talkin’ to? That’s my fuckin’ friend, you stupid bitch.”

His voice is low––lower than he’s ever heard it before. He doesn’t think he has ever been this angered before at anyone. But this asshole crossed the line. He doesn’t play about any of his friends, but especially you. You’re different. 

His fist continues to collide with the man’s nose again and again until he hears a crunching nose followed by a gurgle of pain. Blood splatters onto Keigo’s shirt but he doesn’t care. He can’t stop even if he wants to. It’s like a blood-thirsty switch has flipped inside of him. He suddenly feels your hands on his shoulders, yanking on him tightly. “Keigo, please stop!” you beg, trying in vain to pull him off. “Stop! You’re gonna kill him!” 

“What’s going on here?” a booming voice demands. Keigo is suddenly yanked off of the bloodied man by two large hands belonging to a security guard. He scowls at the asshole and Keigo, looking pissed that he has been bothered with this.

Keigo yanks himself out of his grasp and takes your side. “This prick was harassing my friend after she told him to leave her alone,” he growls, still staring at the asshole like he wasn’t finished with his face…and he wasn’t. 

Though the man is bleeding profusely from his nose and his busted lip, and his eyes are completely swollen, the guard is taking no mercy on anyone. “She can stay,” he says, nodding at you before scowling at Keigo and the man. “But you’re both gonna have to leave.” 

The man gapes at the guard, anger written across his busted face. “But he–” Before he can protest, the guard takes hold of him and practically drags him towards the exit. “Hey!” he shouts. “Get off of me! I have rights!”

His shouts fade into the music as he is swallowed by the crowd that now stare in utter shock at Keigo. His anger has now faded, replaced with a feeling of discomfort and exhaustion at being around so many people. 

He turns to you, grabbing your hand. “Come on,” he whispers, already pulling you off the dance floor and towards one of the exits. He pushes it open, leading you two out into the side valet where he is sure his car is. He lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding as he presses his back against the club wall, letting the cool air caress his sweaty skin. “A-Are you okay?” you suddenly softly stammer, as if afraid to speak. 

Realizing what just happened, he quickly returns his attention to you and ensures himself of your safety. “I should be askin’ you that,” he replies worriedly. “You alright? He didn’t hurt you?” You quickly shake your head, still looking shaken by the whole ordeal. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I almost lost it there.” 

Actually, he did lose it completely, but he didn’t kill the guy, thank God. He takes his hands in yours, squeezing them. “I just care a lot about you,” he softly confesses, not sure why he says it so secretively and blushes when he does.

Immediately, he releases your hands and adverts his gaze though you continue to stare at him. He feels as if you’re staring straight through him into his soul, examining all of his secrets and words left unsaid. 

“Kei…” Your words are soft, your name no more than a whisper on your lips. Keigo tenses, afraid of what may come next. However, nothing could possibly prepare him for what comes out of your pretty mouth next. 

You stand in the moonlight, looking like a damn Goddess that he almost forgets you’re you–his very best friend. “Do you wanna come swimming with me?” you softly ask, your words nearly getting swallowed up by the muffled music and Friday night traffic. 

But Keigo hears you loud and clear. And unbeknownst to you, you could’ve asked him to go to the goddamn moon with you, and he’d say yes. 

#friends to lovers #keigo takami x black reader #hawks x black reader #feral hawks is the only hawks #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #bnha smut #my fic shit #black coded reader #keigo takami #my works #hawks smut

[ladylooch]

I have thots….

Mile high club

Timo is an obvi choice but may I present to you Barzy? Or MILES

And obvi if we’re talking OC’s for sure lio and con

Mmkay back to my bevies

😘🍻

I am having tequila high noons tonight… so it’s gonna be lit 🔥

The way you are making me choose about who to write this about.. what a predicament. 

But… my Woody girls are thirsty…. So let’s go with Miles MF Wood.

“Surprise!!!!” Miles yells as your sneakers hit the tarmac. The last fifteen minutes have been very confusing to you. You had arrived at the airport in Boston, ready for your new adventure together in Colorado. But everything took an unexpected turn when the car continued onto the tarmac of the airport. You were shuttled to a specific hanger that holds a private security area and the nicest airport lounge you have ever seen.

“We are flying private.” He wiggles his thick eyebrows at you.

“Baby, what…. This is… so…”

“Free!” He grins. “Paid for by our new team as a welcome to the Mile High City.” His arms stretch out to the side. The gap in his teeth is extra pronounced with his excitement. 

“Oh my god. I’m finally dating a real superstar.” You snort as you poke his stomach. His smile falls off. 

“Hey.”

“Sorry, you tee’d it up for me.”

You both get settled on the plane quickly taking off before you even register what is happening. Your take off drink of choices was mimosas due to the late morning time. 

“Cheers to our next adventure.” Miles clinks your glasses together. You take a sip, then his tongue chases the bubbles in your mouth, stretching out his seatbelt to maximum length.

“Babe.” You laugh at his aggressive kissing. Your plane is just hitting ten thousand feet and you feel a bit anxious as you always do during the first part of any flight. Something about being in a smaller plane isn’t very comforting to you.

“We are fucking before this plane ride is over.” Your boyfriend’s words snap you out of your anxious thoughts.

“What?”

“There is no way you’re getting off this plane without me being inside of you.”

“Babe!” You smack his huge thigh, glancing back at the flight attendant gathering together your cheese board appetizer. “No way.” You look at the lack of door between the cabin and the pilots as well as the openness of everything. Plus, you’re way too anxious of a flyer. “It would be so obvious.”

“I do not care.”

“Well, you’re not the only one participating.”

“You owe me. A bet is a bet.” Your face goes white. Shit. He is not actually making you pay up for your drunken bet that he wouldn’t go three years without getting replacement teeth. “You’re too vain.” You had giggled at him. Miles never “got around” to getting new teeth… and you didn’t really think anything of it because you love him and he’s so cute and sexy either way that whatever. Who needs teeth?

Damn, when did teeth get so negotiable to you.

Only Miles Wood could do that to you. And only he could make you unbuckle your seatbelt to straddle his lap. His prize for winning the bet was naming a time and place of his choice for you two to have sex. Apparently, this is the time and place. 

He reaches around your body to grab the inflight blanket provided. He folds it around your back. You have a full view of the flight attendant who has the cheese board in her hands, ready to walk it out to you. You make eye contact with her. You purse your lips. She immediately knows and turns around, closing the curtains.

“Oh my god. She closed the curtains.” You put your forehead on Miles’ shoulder in shame.

“Baby, they definitely deal with this all the time. With way grosser people than us. Let’s give them a show.”

“Miles, you fucker.” You whine as you reach for his belt. You cannot believe you are doing this. He is rigid beneath your fingers already panting at what you’re about to do. His blue eyes are wild with excitement as he grins at you. You take him out of his pants, unable to make eye contact with him as you stroke along his taut skin. He chuckles. 

“Baby, we don’t have to.” Him giving you the out makes you want it so much more. Your eyes meet his and he grins wider. “Yesssss, I knew you wanted to.”

“I see why you told me to wear the dress.” You had been debating between leggings and a dress, but he insisted on this.

“I’ve had this planned since I found out we were flying private.” He leans forward, sucking along your collarbone. “Fuck that feels good.” He moans as your fingers wrap tighter around him, stroking his length. “Oh.” He moans. 

“Okay you need to be quiet.” You say pointedly. He’s the loud one in this relationship. 

With his help, you shift your panties to the side. Miles leans his chair back, then guides your hips as you put him at your entrance. Your head falls back as you slide all the way down onto him. His thickness is intoxicating while stretching you to capacity. You roll your head forward again, watching the way his eyes flicker with waves of desire. His lips are pursed to keep his groans to himself.

Miles bucks into you. It’s a little awkward with not being able to move, but you find your rhythm quickly, wanting release.

“Ohhhmygod.” Miles’ head falls forward to your breasts, shoving between them as you squeeze his face between the mounds. “Baby.” He moans into your right breast, leaving a kiss there afterwards. 

Neither of you last long. It feels too good and so public and honestly, you needed this to relax and enjoy the rest of the flight. You rut into him with slow movements to bring you both down gently. Miles comes out from your breasts, puckering his lips for a kiss.

“I’m glad this is how we started our life in Colorado.”

“Me too.” You admit, brushing his curls off his forehead.

#Miles Wood blurb #Miles Wood X reader #hockey writing #my writing #NHL fan fiction #NHL imagine #colorado avalanche #<- wtf.... is that...? #NHL Smut

[xjustakay]

prompt: champagne — 745 words (telling sirius that they’re dating ft. brunch and not so gentle threats lmao) @jegulus-microfic

How Regulus had let his boyfriend convince him that brunch was the place to inform Sirius of their relationship is beyond him. A couple fluttered blinks of those bright hazel eyes and a well placed ‘please, love, it’s important to me’ between kisses in bed and it was done.

Regulus has never considered himself a weak man, but fucking hell, if James Potter hasn’t proven otherwise.

Sirius, to his credit, hasn’t exploded. He’s currently seeming rather catatonic where he sits across the table, which is its own sort of concerning, but there’s no immediate screaming. A good sign? Regulus isn’t convinced.

When Regulus catches their waitress on her way past their table, he waves her down. She’s polite with a smile when she steps nearer, asking what he needs.

“Do you have anything stronger than the champagne in these mimosas available right now?” He asks, fluttering a hand toward the few glasses on the table.

“Um, well, there’s vodka in the bloody Marys on our brunch menu. Would you like to order one of those?”

“I’d like a bottle of just the vodka for the table, actually.”

He knows it’s an impossible request, he’s just hoping that maybe sliding her a twenty note or two might convince her to do him this one kindness. Her brow furrows and she looks at Sirius first before glancing past Regulus at James.

“He’s joking,” James says, forcing a nervous sounding laugh.

Regulus sinks in his seat, mumbling, “I’m really not.”

James lets out another shaking laugh before requesting the check as soon as she can get it for them. The poor girl darts another odd look around the table before painting a smile back on and nodding, then she’s gone again. Regulus goes back to staring at Sirius, who has taken to looking at him through narrowed eyes.

“You two are dating.” It’s not a question, no longer needing the clarification given they’ve already explained twice.

Regulus arches a brow. “Should I say it in French for you next?”

“Reg…” James warns.

“Actually, you,” Sirius swivels his focus to James who looks back at him, wide-eyed. “Millions of people on this earth and you decide my brother is the one you want to date?”

Regulus rolls his eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck that way. This is the response he expected. Because of course Sirius would jump to that, to the fact that James would choose to be with him, as if it’s some great offense to the order of the universe. 

Instead of offering further comment, Regulus snatches his glass from the table and downs the remaining bit of mimosa in it. He wasn’t joking about the little bit of champagne not being enough to get through this.

“You know I’ll kill you if you hurt him, James.”

Regulus chokes on the gulp of his drink.

Both James and Sirius look at him in concern as he reaches for his napkin and covers a couple more sputtering coughs into it, then wipes at his mouth.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Sirius scowls at him, kicking his shin beneath the table. “You idiot, of course I’d kill him for you. I’d kill him in a heartbeat.”

“Cheers, mate,” James snorts.

“You— Hang on.” Regulus sits up straighter, blinks beneath the crease of his brows, and glances between the two of them. “So, you’re… okay? With me and him?”

“I mean, I’m not totally wrapping my head around it at the moment. Still in shock, maybe, but… sure?” Sirius tilts his head like he’s thinking it over before he shrugs. “You’re both pains in my ass so I guess it makes a little sense.”

James laughs; it doesn’t sound nervous anymore. Now it’s Regulus’ turn to stare blankly at his brother as he tries to make sense of this actually going fairly well instead of being the catastrophic event he had been bracing himself for all morning. 

It’s only when James knocks his elbow into his that he’s pulled from his thoughts. There’s a fond smile on his face when Regulus looks at him, the same kind that has soothed many of Regulus’ worries in the past few months. God, he really does love him, stupid brunch announcements and all.

“Told you it wouldn’t be as big a deal as you thought.” James presses a quick kiss to his cheek.

Regulus notices Sirius’ nose scrunch at the open display of affection and ends up laughing finally, too.

#jegulus #starchaser #the black brothers #i giggled my way through writing this one #idiot boys all three of them #and i love them so so much #kay’s microfics #kay’s writing

[albywritesfiction]

Helene may have the entire kingdom wrapped around her little finger, but you know that her true colors are lurking just beneath the kind and naive front she puts up.

Helene is the people’s Cinderella who they live vicariously through.

These dumb mfs ended up putting a Wicked Step-Sister on the throne LMAOOOOO CHOKE!!

the dissolution of the engagement between Ædan and MC (which Ædan did all by himself by suddenly announcing it out of nowhere). In fact, Ædan’s reasoning was extremely, infuriatingly simple: he loved Helene, not MC.

See, it wouldn't hurt THAT much to hear him say he loved Helene and not MC if he didn't blindside them with a sudden end to the engagement and shackling up with Helene. Honestly, I'm surprised there wasn't any tutting at the tactlessness of Ædan's actions, even if he is royal— not to mention he just humiliated the child of the family sworn to protecting his kingdom, you stupid son of a—

Which does make me curious about the political ramifications of such an insult— like, you described Ædric as the more "capable" brother so I'm guessing Ædan is not very.... forward-thinking. Or he is very ruled by his emotions that he just couldn't wait to break up with his fiancé(e) in a proper way then get engaged to Helene after the acceptable period of time had passed. While I highly doubt the family will retaliate, not only did Ædan not know that, but the family can pull back their previous support and it's just not a good look.

Anyway, my MC will be watching that shitshow with binoculars while sipping mimosa on the balcony of their beautiful countryside house and feeling happy at dodging a bullet and at being with the perfection that is Cyfrin. 🥰

Hello Anon!

This was such a fun ask to read that I really wanted to sit down and take my time to go through it and give you a sufficient reply, but I unfortunately had a bunch of deadlines to meet last week 🥲

(Another lengthy answer under the cut 😅)

See, it wouldn't hurt THAT much to hear him say he loved Helene and not MC if he didn't blindside them with a sudden end to the engagement and shackling up with Helene. Honestly, I'm surprised there wasn't any tutting at the tactlessness of Ædan's actions, even if he is royal— not to mention he just humiliated the child of the family sworn to protecting his kingdom, you stupid son of a—

I swear I can feel your frustration through my screen in this part 😂 reminds me of when I get worked up reading Sovieshu’s and Rashta’s scenes in the Remarried Empress webtoon (which is actually one of the main inspirations for ATE)

About the lack of voiced disapproval from the people for Ædan's actions: this is actually something that I have to change since I've realized that it doesn't quite make sense for the Argentius duchy, which contributes a rather large percentage of the kingdom's population, to just accept and be happy with what Ædan did to one of their own. I did have an explanation for why most of the public was cool with Helene replacing MC (hint: Ædan could have been a highly sought after public relations officer in the modern world), but I forgot to take into account MC's popularity with the people from their duchy.

What I did take into account though was the king’s disapproval, which is honestly what matters most to Ædan. Of course it wouldn’t be known to the public, but he was scolded harshly by his father, King Ærick, as soon as they were within the king’s office after his big announcement. Now, Ædan may be dumb, but he isn’t that dumb; he always knew that his father wouldn’t take his surprise well. So why do it if he valued his father’s opinions so much?

Well, he thought Helene was worth it. He thought she was worth any backlash they would receive, even his own beloved father’s disappointment. Even if Duke Argentius declared war on him for disrespecting his child (which he was dangerously close to actually doing), he would take up arms for Helene in a heartbeat.

(Oh Ædan, if only you knew what I have in store for you. Don’t mind the ominous music playing in the background of your wedding 🙂)

So yeah, you could say that Ædan let his emotions take over when he decided that he couldn’t live the rest of his life without the woman he loved.

Anyway, my MC will be watching that shitshow with binoculars while sipping mimosa on the balcony of their beautiful countryside house and feeling happy at dodging a bullet and at being with the perfection that is Cyfrin. 🥰

I can just imagine Cyfrin and your MC wearing shades and having a toast as the capital goes up in smoke in the background 😎🥂

Thanks for the ask!

#after the end #ate-if #ate-if asks #ate: ædan

[matherines]

WIP Wednesday

the way i’m incapable of remembering to do these regularly is truly terrifying oops so thank you to @firenati0n for tagging me and reminding me! kindly ignore that i forgot last week, so thank you to everyone who tagged me then too.

this WIP wednesday is brought to you by “one of your girls,” my current dumpster fire /aff.

Usually, Pez encourages Henry’s sluttier exploits. Tosses him a travel bottle of lube and a new ridiculously-flavored string of condom packets, as if he needs the reminder about safe sex at this point. (He thanks fucking God that he had the sense to leave the bubblegum Durex at home the first time he ended up in Alex’s bed.)

Usually, Henry’s heart isn’t getting broken in the process, but – well. That seems rather unimportant in the grand scheme of it all.

He’s only reminded of how much he wants when it’s all over. When they’re coming down from simultaneous peaks and he goes to thread his fingers through Alex’s curls or rest his head on his chest or tangle their legs together beneath a duvet, and is met with a friendly grin or empty space instead.

Pez doesn’t seem to understand this either. That the having outweighs the wanting, that even though he might not be able to bring Alex along to his work parties or plant a kiss on his cheek in the mornings, what he has is enough.

It has to be. It’s all he’ll ever get.

So if Henry is on his sixth mimosa by the time Pez finishes his fourth, sue him. Lock him up, throw away the key.

(And oh, there’s a thought that he shouldn’t be having in the middle of their favorite Brooklyn brunch spot. He’ll never be able to come back here again without the thought of Alex’s wrists and pink fur.)

tagging @affectionatelyrs @wordsofhoneydew @littlemisskittentoes @saintlynomenclature @happiness-of-the-pursuit and @anincompletelist because i want to see what lovely things live in their brains, but as always, an open tag to everyone else and apologies if you’ve posted and i haven’t seen it yet!!

#ao3 #rwrb discord #rwrb fanfic #writing

[thecameronchronicles]

Hired Help

TW: Smut. Semi-public sex. Language. Cheating.

SUMMARY: Unsatisfied by your boyfriend, you find an alternative if your family’s pool boy, JJ. 

WORD COUNT: 1400

*Requested*

Hired Help

Halfway through July, JJ knew what to expect by now from his summer job. The same ‘Kooks’ judging him from afar behind their designer glasses and mimosas, commenting on his pitiful existence while also keeping their peripheral vision on their best silver. And yet, with what was expected cleaning pools, the usual rectangular tile and cement harboring the youthful trust fund kids, had not expected to find you. Or more specifically the way you were tangled within your boyfriend on the very ledge of the pool, feigning pleasure as he pumped himself into you, his damndest attempts to bring you pleasure having paled in comparison to the rush felt once his eyes found you. But just as his sapphire iries magnetized to you, you had basked in him, the unintentional exhibitionism with your boyfriend and the way JJ had to suppress his drool was enough to make you feed into the body rubbing against you. 

“I’m gonna come babe-” He spoke beneath you as you contorted your face into forced pleasure; lips pulled for a deep breath, eyes lowered but not closed, and your voice convincing your lover of a job well done with a fake orgasm of your own, as your nails dug into his shoulders. All the while, JJ stood until your boyfriend cursed him away, to where he would return to his indifference, and move to the edge of the pool with his back turned to you. 

“Fuckin’ pogues, always wanting what we have…” He teased upon slapping your ass as you nodded, half listening, a hypocritical heart analyzing the bronzed ‘pogue’, blonde hair tempting your fingers for a pull as you couldn’t help but wonder how he felt between your thighs. The excitement of that forbidden touch, the fear of discovery although you held no actual love for your boyfriend but more of an obligation to be his girlfriend, and that curiosity quelled by what it meant to be touched by someone like JJ Maybank-a reputation as lecherous as it was rambunctious. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him you faked it, wouldn’t want to hurt his fragile ego…” JJ spoke over your shoulder as you wrapped yourself in the towel on the edge of the pool by the steps, fixing your suit, and turning to face him. You noticed how his eyes descended to your lips and then the breasts spilling from your dainty suit, before extending even lower to the loose ties now made of your recently disheveled bottoms only wet by the pool and now JJ’s focus. 

“I’ll just take my money and go…” He explained, holding his hands in his pockets as you nodded, slipping to the table and lounge chairs just off of the pool, where your mom had left the money for ‘the pool boy’. But as you turned to give it to him, you noticed how his eyes flashed upwards as it was clear his eyes were making that inappropriate descent to the exposure of your ass looking back at him. 

“This should be enough…” You explained, your fingers tracing his thumb as he took the money, his eyes half blown in lust as the sound of your boyfriend’s truck distanced him from you, taking any guilt and reservation along with him. 

“Think you can do better?” You teased, slipping back towards the pool and beneath that surface before pushing yourself at the pool’s ledge, forcing your breasts into his line of sigh as he let out a deep exhale before crossing his arms. 

“Don’t know if you could handle it, sweetheart…” He taunted back as you cocked a brow before pulling the strings of your bikini top loose enough to toss back at him. 

“Only one way to know..” You would swim away from him, luxuriating in the water, while feeling it shift from the far end in his descent to you. Yet, you wouldn’t allow your eyes to connect to him until his hands came to your hips. But you were a dominant spirit, only acquiescent when the larger goal meant your overall pleasure. For that, you pushed him away with a hand to his chest, shaking your head, and turning against the ledge of the pool. 

“This way…”

“Shit…” He cursed beneath his breath before feeling you push your ass into the perfect crevice made of his bent hips. As he brought you further against the side of the pool, his hands beside yours, you turned to kiss him, but only teased his lips, before guiding his hand to your thighs. 

“I want to feel all of you…” He explained, retracting his hand to the side of your hip and removing the bottoms of your suit, as you bit your bottom lip once feeling his entire hand wrap into a cover over your pussy. Using his palm, he would stimulate your clitoral hood before he penetrated you with his ringed middle finger. 

“Expecting an audience anytime soon?” He asked into your ear as you came into a rest against his shoulder and you shook your head. 

“They’re in Hawaii until Monday-”

“And the jock?”

“He got what he wanted, he’ll be good until tomorrow-”

“And what do YOU want?”

“I want you to make me come, JJ…” You knew his name well, a consistent staple at any party and the reputation for being a good lay and the connection to marijuana, he was a curiosity now on the fringes of discovery as his fingers ran up to your breasts. 

“You want it like this?” You nodded before feeling that hand ascend even further until connecting to your jaw, turning you to face him. 

“Say it. Beg me for it…” He spoke softly, but with features as domineering as the meaning behind his words. But you weren't quick to obey, instead, you led his finger to your lips, sucking softly and keeping eye contact, as he cocked his jaw in approval. 

“You’re a devious little thing, aren’t you? Needy for a good fuck to make you behave?” You shrugged. 

“Wouldn’t know…still waiting.” To this, he forced you towards the jet of the pool, your gasp making him chuckle, as he would lower his trunks, and insert himself behind you. 

“THIS what you want?” You nodded in quick repetition, the force of the jet’s stream and the pressure offered by his cock, nearly proving to be too much as your hand came to your back and into his naked hips. 

“JJ!”

“That’s it, princess…let every one of yoru neighbors to know who is insisde of you in broad fucking daylight-” He grunted, wrapping his hand to the back of your neck and leading you into such an angle where he hit the deepest cavern within your sex. 

“JJ!”

“Shit, you feel so good…” You nodded in agreement while he now pulled you back against his chest. But the second your head found a rest within his shoulder, he withdrew from you.

“J-” You were turned to face him, lifted around him, and carried to the steps of the pool. 

“Promise you won’t be faking those sounds with me, sweetheart…” He was inside of you once again, supporting himself on the steps at your back while you tangled yourself around him. The way his body felt in contrast to the water but synonymous to the summer heat was euphoric all its own-but his dominant hold alternating between the steps to your hips, and finally your hair, gave that edge that only amplified the pulsation between your legs. 

“Oh, you’re fucking close, I can feel it-”

“Please!” His hand came around your throat, pulling you back into him. 

“Keep begging, I wanna come with you.” You bit your bottom lip before you pulled your back against him, completely, his motions quick as your back arched, and his second hand wrapped to your breast, fondling its nipple to intesnify your high. 

“Fuck!” You both belted out in unison before feeling those tremors within you dance with his own before you were forced the absence of his recanting. 

“Well now I should probably clean the pool again…” You chuckled to his words before watching him search for his trunks, your body in bliss after you entertained yourself in this afternoon delight…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @pankhoeforlife

#jjmaybank #jj maybank x reader #jjsmut #jj maybank smut #outer banks #obx fanfiction #outerbanks #outer banks smut #obx #jj maybank #netflix

[amtrak-official]

So apart from a pretty obvious section, I am basically finished with the 1st chapter of my novel, take a look at it beneath the read more. I hope you guys enjoy it

Today is the 3rd Sunday of the Month, this means that the city of Saltpeter’s oddities, mistakes, and rarities have come together for Brunch, the national pastime of this peculiar crowd, among them are 2 librarians, a museum curator, a traveling beekeeper, a pen crafter, and about 20 other strange fellows. Take great note on the pair of drab brown haired people sitting at the very back of the train station restaurant. These boring sorts go by the names of Danny Jones and Danielle Jones and hold absolutely no relation to each other.

The thing about Danny Jones and Danielle Jones that is so interesting is not the fact that they share a birthday or last names despite being unrelated in any way other than a lesbian aunt 7 generations back, is the fact that these are the 2 most dull and boring individuals you will ever meet. Both have the personality of sliced bread and they aren’t much better in fashion either. There is nothing special about either Jones, they both live completely ordinary lives as shopkeepers on opposite ends of town. The most eventful thing either will do in a month is a Sunday Brunch. And yet both have managed to obtain a loving relationship with incredibly interesting people. And more interesting still is the fact that both are going to wind up dead at the end of the month.

Now to understand why this will happen, you must understand Saltpeter, importantly there are 4 cultural institutions in the city of Saltpeter, Firstly is the Library, it is one of the 3 which is actually known to the people of Saltpeter, and houses exactly 17,943 books and 67 are currently checked out. Next is the Museum of Maria Fernando, a town crazy lady who runs a museum on the way things used to be, this is the institution people like to forget, despite mattering quite a lot to the city, it has received exactly 17 visitors this month and stays afloat via Maria’s wife’s second cousin’s generous yearly donations in exchange for copies of old novels. The 3rd cultural institution is the rail station, it is on the route of the oldest train in the nation, the California Zephyr and is run by the best chef in the city, Leaf Ann Smith, capable of both killing a man and cooking in Omelette in under 20 minutes. Finally there's the Pen shop, they sell pens, specifically fountain pens, each are hand made by a Saltpeter craftsman, it made the list because we were paid 72$ to add it. If someone wants to stretch the definition of an institution, they could get it up to about 20 institutions and a playhouse worth of cultural amenities, but they would also have to include the brunch of the misfits of Saltpeter, which really shouldn’t be added on principle since it happens in Leaf Ann Smith’s train station anyways.

Now back to the Brunch, something very important is about to happen, There will be a rather large toast to the group. This is on account of it being the 3rd anniversary of the start of the groups monthly meetings. Somehow that is a point of pride among the members due to how it is the longest any Brunch group in Saltpeter has lasted after the Infamous Brunch fights 20 years ago. The Brunch fights were a rather dreary matter for such a pleasant pastime. 27 dead and 63 injured over a week. All because of bad French Toast at an upscale restaurant near downtown Saltpeter. And when I say bad, I mean bad, it was soggy, barely toasted, and didn't have any fruits except the one eating it. It's not even like Saltpeter doesn't have any strawberries, it was built on the largest strawberry farm west of the Mississippi. How do you fuck up French Toast that badly? How?

Oh right, the Toast to the Brunch crew, A tall woman in a Green Dress, a leather Jacket and Gold Hoop earrings stands up, her hair is cut in a pixie cut. She grabs a Mimosa off the table and begins to talk. Hurricane Jane Rivers as they call her is many things, a lesbian, crazy, a storm chaser, dangerous, a purveyor of Pancakes, a painter and an aerial ace, but one thing she is not is concise. It would take 7 paragraphs to summarize her speech to that disparate group of oddities. In short though, she was thanking them for the best 3 years of her life. Little did she know, only half of them would see next month.

As her glass hits the glass of another member of the Brunch, a whisper rings through the air.

A tick of a second

And with a large creaking boom, the train comes to a screeching halt outside the station, passengers get off as Leaf Ann Smith scrambles to hide her current mess of a Diner from the view of the wealthy tourists from down the tracks. The train is early for once. Precisely 17 minutes and 6 seconds early, something that should not have been possible given the fact that the train tracks were under repairs between Omaha and Saltpeter. And the train had a 2 minute delay when it arrived at the last station. This is all irrelevant if not to show how off guard it caught Leaf Ann Smith who usually manages to keep incredibly on top of the schedules of the train so she can run the station and Diner at once. Leaf Ann Smith is a busy Woman between the Diner, the Station and her time moonlighting as the union negotiator for between the carpenters guild and Sylvia Ink the sole crafter of fountain pens in Saltpeter and a person notoriously bad at paying their union dues. Now in a hurry, she rushes to kick out the Brunch party and clean up the messes left behind in her diner today. She had to rush the 20 people ot for a rather simple reason, she needs money to run a diner and the train is what brings her the best customers each day. As the crowd of weirdos and homosexuals scurries away. One Slyvia Ink bumps right into a Jim Halder. The only man in the city who still knows their face.

Jim Halder is a professor at the University of Saltpeter and has 40 years of Tenure there, starting as a professor at 31, despite being in his 70s, he looks rather young, with a smooth face and deep black hair, this however is a lie. If you look closely at his hair, you’ll notice a long white steak and an indent on his face above his left eye. This is because Jim’s face is not his first, while studying in the mines of Saltpeter, his face was burned off, and a new wooden one had to be constructed by Sylvia Ink, one of the only 4 things they ever made that wasn’t a fountain pen, the other 3 are another less lifelike mask, the hilt of a blade, and pen holder to hold their pens. Jim is a man of learning, giving every book he writes to the library after he publishes it, 14 of the books that are currently checked out were donated by him. If you were to inspect Jim closely you would also find that you could knock him over quite easily with a single punch due to his slim frame. The university that he works at is not considered a cultural institution by even the most generous people in Saltpeter because nothing of interest has been produced in the for 67 years. Well apart from Sylvia Ink and Jim Halder, and their incredible works of course, the two little wooden people of Saltpeter. 

Jim was naturally surprised to see Sylvia at the station, but glad nonetheless to see that young fellow out of the workshop. When they bumped into each other, quite literally, as Sylvia had been too focused on a croissant to notice the man ahead of him. He proposed to the young carpenter that they go over to the old river park for a stroll to discuss the terms for the new project. 

Despite being a chilly 50 degrees out, if you were to head across town from the rail station, over to the river. You will find 2 men on the banks of the river. One is sitting in a rather large Sycamore tree, reading a book, when he hears the train rush past. He is wearing a blue sweater and long pants, the other man is dressed quite poorly for the weather, he is wearing nothing but a swimsuit and his golden locks of hair. He stupidly planned on Swimming in the river today. He is 6 feet tall and somehow not freezing. These peculiar fellows meant to be at the brunch but the one in the Sweater, Alex Cela had set his pocket watch 3 hours behind. Even knowing this now, he was still caught off guard by the train crossing over the river since the train had not been early in 3 months. Despite being totally different, one a bit of an idiot and the other a top marks student at the University of Saltpeter, they have been dating for 2 months, and six days if either had remembered to keep track of that. They met at the park, Alex was trying to paint the trains and Damien had been trying to teach a cat how to swim, the pair of them instantly became friends after Alex stopped trying to attack Damien for ruining the painting. And the two started dating a week after they met, when Damien kissed Alex under an Oak tree in the town square. These 2 lovers were not however the only people in the park. There were about 400 give or take 27 people in that park on this chilly morning. But none of them particularly matter, none of them except for Emily Rock.

Emily Rock is a unique woman, it's hard to like her, but easy to understand her. The first 3 words that come to mind about her are angry, pretty, and rude, she is only two of these.The reason many of her peers tend to dislike her is simple, she’s tired, angry, and rather blunt. She’s tired of her classmates at the university, this miserable city, the man on 7th street, and of course she's tired of her father who refuses to give her that damn amulet. What with it being promised to her in the will and everything. Another thing she is tired of is the incredible dullness of the man she works with at the shop, his name is Danny, and she is uncertain if he has a personality. Something she has made clear to him. Now Emily is a pretty woman like they say, she has long blond curls and a tan face, if you care about clothes, she’s wearing a blue skirt and a pink tanktop, she’s current reading the morning paper, when an idiot brat of a child steps on her foot running past her bench. Her morning is already ruined, so she decides if nothing else, she should pick a fight, it might cheer her up. What after the argument with her father over the amulet last night, and now that child, she deserves to make someone miserable. As she walks down the river bank she spots him, a man with golden hair and a large frame, the kind of man she thinks would be stupid enough to steal her pet Rabbit “Mr. Flopsy”. 

On the other side of the river sit two scientists, a carpenter and a professor, the two wooden men as they call them, one looks young but is old in years, the other’s age is impossible to tell at a glance, they wear a wooden mask and have cyan hair in a low ponytail. The one in the mask is slightly shorter, and is carving a piece of wood with a short knife. The taller one, in a button up vest begins to speak,

[THIS HAPPENS]

As they begin to leave the park they hear shouting, coming from across the river, as a woman seems to be trying to pick a fight with the man currently swimming in the river. But they are not about to witness the only fight in the city this morning. In the city center one Maria Fernando is riding the trolley over to the library to do some research when she notices the fellow with the bee hives has been following her, she would have their name but never actually heard it when they started coming to Brunch about a year ago and she would be far too embarrassed to ask now, Maria Fernando is a headstrong and determined woman, but you can never get her to actually admit to not knowing something, she now prides herself on knowing more than anyone in this 3rd rate mining town. She wishes she could see the face of the Beekeeper, then she would know whether she could trust them,  that's why she doesn't trust Sylvia Ink, it's that damn mask and the incident in the Saltpeter mines of course, that whole thing is confusing. She can tell, she just knows for a fact that that damn beekeeper is staring at her, and then she spots her destination, the Library square, she quickly jumps off the Trolley and lands on the ground, falling over and tumbling for a good 10 feet with her briefcase in hand. She then briskly gets up and puffs the dust off her red dress. She runs into the Library and without talking to  the Libarians for once she runs in the stacks, she looks back and yep, that freakish beekeeper fucking followed her. As she hides, she reaches towards her briefcase to open it when she sees the Beekeeper grab a book off the shelf and start to move away from the shelves. She closes the Briefcase back up and wipes the sweat off her brow, she was so paranoid about the beekeeper and for nothing. But she did have a good reason to be paranoid when entering the library that day because someone was right behind her. And,

POW!!

She is hit on the head with a large book. Now because Maria has already fallen over, so she can’t see this, but another person, the beekeeper and another patron of the Library have also been hit with the book.

As Maria opens her eyes, she finds herself in a dark room, with 5 other people, she is tied up alongside 2 others, one is the Beekeeper, the other is the most boring man she has ever seen, he looks familiar but she doesn't know from where. She could have seen his face a thousand times and not recognized it, because she had. In fact she had seen him earlier that day at Brunch, He is wearing a white tank top and blue jeans, he has medium length brown hair and about no other interesting characteristics, but she wouldn't remember seeing him, he would be one of the 7 people she never would remember, not even after talking too, but this would be the last time she would see him and still forget him. Suddenly a pair of Women enter the light, one being Sunny Rus and the other being Elise Rosa, they are 2 of the 3 librarians at the Saltpeter Library and both are typically good friends of Maria, they were even just at brunch discussing how to acquire several old 23rd century novels for the museum. 

Sunny steps forward and bites into an orange,  peel and all, it's a strange habit of hers that nobody really understands. She then spits the peel out, hitting Maria in the Face, this part is unfortunately all too common for Maria, dealing with Sunny's surprising lack of manners for such a pleasant looking woman was an annoying commonality. It is impossible to find her outside a sundress even on a chilly day like today. She begins to say something in a commanding tone of voice like a military officer, in fact if you put her in a coat and shaved her hair, she could have passed for one at this moment. 

"Look I know none of you would steal our delivery of a particularly difficult to find object from Chicago, but given its value, I think we will all agree this is the only logical course of action,” Sunny says to the group, in an alert tone.

Maria is confused by this given that the only things that were collected by Sunny were books and strangely photographs of a fruit that had been extinct for 300 years. She knew that the fruit pictures were pretty much worthless and most valuable books were held by the elites of Chicago and Denver, the Barons and Lords of what remained, those with wealth that far exceeded what could be found in Saltpeter. Suddenly she realised what  Sunny had done as all heads in the room rapidly turned at the sound of a gunshot outside the library.

Macmillan Dev-ill was a strange man, for one he was on call of every last baron, lord, and prince in Chicago on those Bell telephones that had swept across the prairie. It was a result of his rare profession. How does one put the actions of this man delicately, well let's say he dealt with people’s final moments for a hefty price. To put it bluntly, he was a killer. Today he was holed up on the roof of a library in a mediocre forgotten rail town of about 63 thousand people. He was waiting for a small balding man from Omaha to arrive, that man had a copy of the Codex Americana, a fabled book with 3 remaining copies which was handwritten by the 18 monks of Madison; they lived in a monastery by the great waterway known as the Ohio. The Codex chronicalled the history of America from the settlers to the 5 Unions to the empires of Chicago and San Francisco and their falls into dust like all great civilisations before them. He was hired to reacquire the epic so that it couldn’t fall into the hands of those outside Chicago, specifically he was hired by the heir of the Family who commissioned it, the Christopher Fleming of the House Fleming.

After 17 hours he saw 2 things, first a dark haired woman and a beekeeper came running into the Library, making him alert again and then he saw his mark a small oaf, whose name will be forgotten by history. What mattered was what he carried, a box holding a particularly rare book.

He was on the steps when it happened when it went - BANG!!

7 people came running out about a minute later, but it was too late, Dev-ill had already gotten down, grabbed the box and started towards the train station back to Chicago.

It's been 1 hour since Maria saw the blood on the steps of the grand library. It has been 57 minutes since she was told to head to the Train station to try and get the book, whatever book it was back and For the past roughly 3 minutes, Maria Fernando has stood almost still, an incredible rarity, she is waiting outside the train station, ticket in her hand, she is both preparing herself to see the immortal city, the last great city of the American Age, and trying to deal with the death she has seen, not just today but constantly over the past 16 years. As she looks back at the city of Saltpeter for one last glance of her home fill her with hope, the whole city is visible from the rail station on a hill, it was moved up hill and north about a mile about 200 years ago after a devastating flood, but nobody knows that now, history is easily lost in Saltpeter. The libraries know this, but nobody bothers to remember what happened in this city all those years ago. With one last gulp of the air, she lifts up her briefcases and runs to catch up with her companions. If she has to go to Chicago, then at least she is going with people she knows even if it is against her will, and at least if its not people she knows, then at least its people she’s met. And Danny Jones, he is also there.

 As she climbs up the stairs to Leaf Ann Smith’s station she can smell the exciting smell of eggs and coal smoke, a mix you can only find at two places, an incredibly rustic bakery and the Saltpeter Train Station. The Coal is there because Leaf Ann Smith is known by certain groups in the city, but thankfully not the California Zephyr Authority of Denver to steal coal for the Diner she runs in the train station on the edge of the city in a large garden. Maria is ready to leave now, she wipes away tears that are beginning to form and begins to shift through her pockets to find the ticket. She produces it and feeds it to the ticket machine, it spits the ticket back out alongside a mix of currencies, the only 2 of interest to her being 6 Saltpeter Tins and 7 Chicagan Dollars, about enough for a Coffee and a biscuit on the train for the second day, she was glad the Machine was still broken like she had heard and would always give change, for the simple reason that she couldn't buy the coffee otherwise. When the gate pops open, she sees that the train is in the station and runs on not looking for her company on that journey. If she had looked she would notice that the Zephyr remarkably managed to hold all but 2 of the members of her Brunch party from Yesterday.

#last ride of the california zephyr #writblr