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dreamwritesimagines · 8 months

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Garden of Secrets - Epilogue

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support throughout the story my darlings! I hope you enjoy the epilogue as well, ILYSM! ❤️

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex.

Thank you to @theskytraveler for helping me with the story and the chapter!

Series Masterlist

3 YEARS LATER

“And this flower right here is called a mock orange, any idea why?”

The cheerful babbling was the only answer you got and you felt yourself smiling wide, turning to look at her better. Camellia was the cutest baby you’d ever seen and you were pretty sure it wasn’t just because she was the most perfect combination of you and Benedict. The only person in your life that remembered you as a baby was Josie, and she swore up and down that she looked more like you than Benedict but you weren’t so sure.

“Very good!” you said. “Because it looks like an orange flower!”

Camellia clapped her hands excitedly, as if congratulating herself for guessing right, kicking her legs back and forth in her high chair, accidentally dropping one of the many pencils on the table in front of her but she didn’t even notice.

“And what about this one?”

“Fwo?”

“Flower, yes,” you said, nodding fervently and she gave you a huge grin. You went to pick her up from the chair and approached the table in the middle of the huge greenhouse.

“This is your flower my sweet, see? Middlemist Red Camellia.”

She gasped when she heard her name. “Me!”

“Mm hm, the most beautiful and precious flower in the entire world!” you said, tickling her stomach while kissing her cheeks, making her happy giggles echo in the greenhouse. You fixed her hair, still smiling bright and took a look at the paper she was drawing on before, full of different colored squiggly lines.

“Perhaps your papa is right, you are to be a big artist,” you said as you walked to the glass door. “A painter like him hm?”

“Papa!”

“And your aunt Lottie says you will be a writer and your uncle Teddy says you’ll be a sculptor…” you said as you stepped out of the greenhouse into the huge garden, the sunlight falling upon you. You grabbed the little hat by the door and placed it upon Camellia’s head while she held onto you, playing with your necklace.

“So many ideas!” you told her as you passed by the winter garden, enjoying the chirping of the birds. A couple of butterflies flew by you, no doubt because you were very close to the butterfly garden and Camellia held her breath, pointing at the blue butterfly.

“Mama!”

“I can see that my love,” you said, pressing a kiss on her small chubby hand, and walked past the orangery. “They’re very beautiful, are they not?”

She nodded fervently, making grabby hand motions as if trying to call the butterflies to her.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” you said, still walking through the main garden. “They all think like that but do you want to know what I think?”

She nodded her head again, still listening to you very intently.

“I think you might just become the biggest botanist in the world,” you whispered. “I mean it only makes sense, no? You already know so many flowers!”

Camellia pointed at the pear tree and turned to you. “Mine? Mine?”

“Let’s get you one then,” you said with a small laugh, reaching up to grab and pick the pear off the branch. You dusted it off, then gave it to Camellia who made a happy cooing sound, trying to dig into it. You raised your head to look up at the house, a warmth spreading through you as your gaze fell upon the window of Benedict’s studio, then you turned to Camellia.

“Let’s go see papa, hm?” you asked her, then made your way to the house to enter the foyer. You hummed a song and climbed up the stairs, then put Camellia down when you entered the hallway leading to Benedict’s studio.

“Go ahead.”

“Papa?” Camellia called out, running as fast as her tiny legs allowed her, reminding you of a duck. She was still holding the pear tight in her fist, and you walked right behind her to make sure you would be able to catch her if she fell. “Papa!”

You let out a laugh as you heard Benedict’s footsteps and he stepped out of the studio, his jaw dropping as he saw her and he immediately leaned down to catch her before she could smash herself against his legs.

“Oh here’s my sweet!” he said as he hoisted her up into his arms, smothering her in kisses, making her giggle happily before he turned to you, that fond look crossing his eyes, a soft smile curling his lips.

“Hello my love.”

You smiled, and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him. “Hello to you too,” you said, letting out a small laugh as he stole another kiss from you. “I figured you needed a break or so.”

“And you were right,” he said, winking at you before turning to Camellia. “How is she always right, do you know?”

Camellia offered him the pear she was holding and Benedict gasped.

“For me?”

“More like it was for her but she’s willing to share,” you said and Benedict grinned.

“Come on,” he nodded in the direction of the studio and walked inside with Camellia in his arms, and you followed them.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” you sang in a teasing manner, pulling the hat off Camellia’s head and Benedict shot you a mischievous look.

“Mm, what am I doing?”

“You think you can turn her into an artist if she spends enough time here.”

“I can’t help if she’s naturally talented,” Benedict defended himself. “I mean have you seen her work?”

“The…the squiggly lines?”

“The squiggly lines!” Benedict nodded, rocking Camellia. “She’s a genius artist even as a one-year-old.”

“I still support my botanist theory.”

“Maybe she’ll be both?”

“As you can see my sweet, no high expectations whatsoever,” you told Camellia who was listening to both of you as if she could understand everything you were saying.

“You can be anything you want to be,” Benedict told her as she rested her head on his shoulder, yawning. “Including an artist. Just saying.”

You walked closer to the canvas to see that the background was almost done, and tilted your head.

“What’s this going to be?”

Benedict shot you a grin and pressed his lips on top of Camellia’s hair. You checked the clock on the wall, then rang the bell.

“That one is going to be her,” Benedict said, softly rocking her and you smiled.

“Aw,” you said gently, and walked to caress her soft cheek with your finger. “Did you hear that my sweet? Your own portrait?”

Camellia sucked on her thumb, her eyes closing slowly.

“Is she sleeping?” Benedict whispered and you nodded.

“She is,” you murmured, rubbing her back and turned your head when someone knocked on the door.

“Ma’am,” Paula said. “Mr. Bridgerton. Would you like me to take her for her nap?”

“That would be good Paula, thank you.”

She smiled and took Camellia from Benedict, careful not to wake her.

“I’ll be right there,” you told her and pressed a kiss on Camellia’s head before Paula walked out of the room with her. You turned to Benedict and he entwined his fingers with yours, pulling you into his arms.

“Hey,” you said as he buried his nose into your hair. “Is everything alright?”

“Mm hm, now that you’re here.”

You smiled softly and squeezed his arm. “Are you still tense about the gala?”

He heaved a sigh and you pulled back a little to look up at him.

“Ben, that painting got auctioned and sold in two minutes because everyone was outbidding each other,” you reminded him. “People are talking about you the same way you used to talk about Gordon, everyone agrees that you’re a genius artist, the whole ton—”

“Yeah but it’s different,” he mumbled. “Tonight, it’s only friends and family.”

“Shouldn’t that be comforting?”

“Technically yes but…” he trailed off and shook his head slightly. “Never mind.”

You cupped his cheek, raising your brows. “Tell me.”

“It’s easier when it’s just strangers,” he said with a small chuckle. “Museum owners and Academy directors and such. It’s different when it’s family and friends, and I’d hate it if they thought all those other people exaggerated—”

“Everyone in the Academy and countless artists and museum owners who were on the verge of a fight to get your painting, they all exaggerated?” you asked with a small smile. “All of those people at the same time?”

Benedict thought for a moment. “When you say it like that…”

You let out a laugh and stood on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his, and he heaved a sigh when you pulled back, resting his forehead against yours, his fingers caressing the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Tonight is going to be amazing,” you assured him. “I promise you.”

He shot you a mischievous grin, then leaned down hoisted you up into his arms, making you squeal.

“Benedict!”

“There’s no harm in starting the amazing night a bit early,” he said as he carried you to the sofa and you let out a laugh.

“Scandalous behavior!” you joked and he winked at you, then leaned in to kiss you.

Of course the night of the gala went perfectly, as you knew it would. Both your family and Benedict’s had been so excited and were very proud of him, and you could see it melted away the last insecurity that had been gnawing at him before tonight.

His speech that he dedicated the painting -and his inspiration- to you was enough to bring tears into your eyes but you managed to hide it by burying your face into his arm, earning an “aww” from the crowd. After the speech, people scattered along in the gallery to talk to each other, and if you said so yourself, everyone seemed to be having fun. Benedict was talking to Gordon, Henry, Margery and Lucy by the corner, Anthony and Lottie looked like they were in their own world while Colin kept whispering things to Penelope’s ear, making her giggle. Eloise seemed to be in a deep conversation with Simon while Daphne watched them with a small smile, and you smiled at Lady Bridgerton and Lady Danbury as Teddy wheezed past you.

“Teddy don’t run!” you called out and he stopped for a moment.

“But I’m being very careful!” he assured you and returned to chasing Hyacinth and Gregory. Your aunt held up her hands, gesturing surrender as she gave him a fond look and your uncle chuckled.

“If he changes his mind about being a sculptor…”

“He can become a professional runner,” you joked and turned to Josie and Bess.

“So yes, we’re going to Paris before the season,” you told them. “Around like a month before, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Andrew will give you a list of things to bring from there, just so you know,” Bess said said and you let out a laugh.

“I’m alright with that. Wait, where is he anyway?”

Josie cleared her throat. “I think he and Felix are in the orangery—”

“The moon garden, my love,” Bess corrected her and you raised your brows, stifling a laugh.

“Of course they are,” you muttered and heard someone calling your name. You turned your head to see who it was, then made your way to Lottie and Anthony.

“Hello you two.”

“Y/N,” she said with a huge smile, still holding Anthony’s hand. “We already said goodnight to Benedict, we didn’t want to leave before saying goodnight to you.”

You tilted your head. “You’re leaving already?” you asked. “Is everything alright? Is Edmund—”

“Oh Edmund is fine!” she assured you quickly and Anthony nodded.

“He’s probably asleep already.”

“It’s just—I tire very easily nowadays,” Lottie said, making you pull your brows together. Anthony and Lottie exchanged smiles and Lottie bounced on the balls of her feet in an excited manner, making your frown deepen for a moment before the thought dawned on you and your jaw dropped.

“Are you serious?!” you whispered and Lottie giggled, nodding fervently.

“You’re the first to know,” she whispered and you let out a laugh, then pulled her into a hug.

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you!”

“To both of you obviously—” you said with a laugh, then hugged Anthony as well, making him chuckle as he hugged you back.

“We haven’t told Benedict yet,” he told you as you pulled back. “You know with the gala and everything.”

“Oh he will be very happy for you!” you said and Lottie bit on her lip.

“I wish to be the one to tell him if that’s alright.”

“Absolutely!” you said, waving your hands. “Go on then, go home and rest. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You’d better,” Lottie joked and squeezed your hand, then they both walked out of the gallery. You looked around, then took a step towards Eloise but someone touched the small of your back, making you look up.

“Well if it isn’t the genius artist,” you teased Benedict and he shot you a happy grin.

“Come with me?”

“As long as we’re not going to the moon garden because if I walk in on them again…” you muttered and he tilted his head.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” you said and let him pull you out of the gallery. You both passed through the foyer and he led you outside, still holding your hand.

“Ben, where are we going?” you asked with a laugh and he stopped by the main garden, moonlight falling upon you both, showering the gardens in silver. Even though it was the thousandth time you were seeing this gorgeous view, it still managed to take your breath away.

Speaking of things that managed to take your breath away…

You looked up at Benedict, his handsome face under the moonlight, your heart skipping a beat before you giggled.

“Are we sneaking out of your own gala then?”

Benedict shot you a mischievous smile, then shook his head.

“No I merely…I wanted a moment with you,” he said. “Just you.”

You bit down on your lip as he pulled you closer, his fingers stroking over your hair. Your eyes fluttered close when he brushed his lips against yours and you smiled into the kiss, grazing your nails over the nape of his neck, making him heave a sigh.

“Congratulations Mr. Bridgerton,” you whispered. “Your gala seems to be a success.”

He smiled softly, pressing his lips on your temple. “Seems to be, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

You hummed. “Is it too early to say I told you so?”

He chuckled. “I don’t think so.”

“Well then, I told you so,” you said, sticking your nose up in the air. “And you should listen to me all the time because to be honest, so far I’ve—”

“I love you,” he said, and your eyes snapped up to his, a smile warming your face. You let out a giggle and pulled him down so that you could kiss him.

“I love you too,” you whispered and entwined your fingers with his, then took a step towards the house.

“Come on,” you said. “It is your gala my love. Let’s go and enjoy it.”

The End.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

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starlitmark · 5 months

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Summary: You damn well knew your heat was coming… it’s nothing your boyfriends can’t handle, though. Pairing: Chinchilla!Wooyoung x fem Bat Eared Fox!reader x Fennec Fox!Yeosang x Several!San Tropes: hybrid au, poly au, established relationship au Genre: fluff, smut Rating: R18+ Warnings: language Smut Warnings: mxm, biting, predator-prey play, pet names, dry humping, implied heat sex Word Count: 1,044 Note: Merry Christmas @atiny-piratequeen!! I hope you enjoy <3 (and thank you to @kwanisms and @wooahaeproductions for beta reading!!)

“You feeling okay, Kit?” San asks quietly.

You nod, “I’m okay, just feeling a bit clingy.” you reassure as you nuzzle closer to his scent gland.

The ends of San’s blonde mullet tickle against your skin, but it doesn’t bother you one bit. Unknown to you, San gives a glance to Yeosang. The Fennec Fox’s pale tan ears shift toward him before his eyes do. When he does make eye contact with San, he’s immediately aware of what’s about to smack you all in the face. You stay clung to your kitty boyfriend, peacefully buried in his neck and inhaling his scent as much as possible. Yeosang quietly leaves the living room in search of your third boyfriend. Wooyoung, being the only prey hybrid, always made for an interesting dynamic. Despite his status as a prey, he’s absolutely the fiery, playful one in the relationship.

It doesn’t take Yeosang long to find the bubbly Chinchilla. Wooyoung is happily munching on his lunch at the breakfast bar. He immediately knows something is off, though, when Yeosang approaches him.

“What’s wrong?” Wooyoung asks, voice laced with concern.

“It’s just that-” Yeosang is cut off by a whimper coming from the living room.

The two share a look before making their way toward the sound. They hadn’t expected to see you pinned down to the couch with San barring his canines at you. He’s definitely not mad at you. If anything, he’s holding himself back. You have a blissed-out expression on your face. That’s all the other two need to know what’s happening.

“Kit,” San practically purrs out, “You smell so fucking good.”

“San,” Yeosang says with a warning air, “Off. Now.”

San’s eyes flit to the other fox for a moment before returning to you. Your eyebrows furrow in pure desperation. Your fox ears fall horizontally, almost fully lost in your hair.

“Do you want this, Kit?” San questions, putting just enough space between you so that you can breathe easily.

“Sannie,” you practically whine.

“Use your words properly, Kit.” The kitty purrs again.

Despite San still hovering over you, Wooyoung’s fresh rain scent completely surrounds you. San’s sweet strawberry scent still floods directly into your nose. But, for some reason the scent of Wooyoung’s fresh rain is overpowering both the kitty’s strawberry and the other fox’s pear blossom. Even your own scent is overpowering. Normally, you can’t smell yourself, though, right now, you’re hyperaware of your amber scent.

“I need you.”

You let out a low whistle sound that only exemplifies your need. Normally, Yeosang is the only one who can really hear it. With him being another fox, he knows exactly what each one of your sounds means without needing an explanation. He steps closer and squats down to be at your eye level.

“What do you need?” His voice is tender and soft, unlike San’s.

“I need you. Need all three of you. Woo’s scent is so strong, that I know his rut is probably triggered by my heat. Please, I need you all so desperately.”

A stray tear escapes your eye, and Yeosang wipes it away. Before you can even process the tender gesture, San’s lips are against the scent gland at the base of your neck. You moan at the sensation. His teeth are gently scraping along your throat a moment later, his sharp canines leaving small red marks behind.

Wooyoung joined at some point. His hands are gently brushing through the fur of your tail. His fluffy chinchilla ears are twitching, a habit you’ve noticed happens when he’s focused. Once in a while, he tugs at your tail, making you shudder with need. Yeosang methodically massages your ears and hair, knowing each time he touches your furry ears, you grow just a tad more desperate for them.

“Shall we take you to bed, pretty?” Yeosang whispers lowly in your ear.

“I think she’s just fine right here, no?” Wooyoung adds, hearing Yeosang’s whisper clearly.

You throw your legs around San’s waist before flipping him over and pinning him to the couch. You smirk, displaying your pearly white, sharp canines. Your eyes are dilated, and all you can think about is how desperately you want to use your pretty boyfriend’s cocks.

“I think I’m just fine right here.” You chuckle.

“K-kit?” San stutters out, his strawberry scent spiking sweeter.

“Let me use your cock, pretty kitty.”

You start grinding against your kitty boyfriend’s clothed member. Small moans and whines escape his lips each time you roll your hips against his tip. You hear a small whine come from your chinchilla boyfriend. First, your ear turns toward him, then the rest of your head.

“Don’t worry,” you smirk, “I’ll use all of you. Use you until I’m satisfied, and you’re all crying, begging me to give you a break.”

“Kit,” Yeosang says with a low warning whistle, “Watch who you’re talking to.”

You climb off of San’s lap and into Yeosang’s. He’s not going down without a fight it seems. His eyes are burning with desire, but he’s trying not to let you get the upper hand. You pepper kisses along his jaw and neck. His pear blossom scent engulfs you so much that you almost forget your other two boyfriends are there. That is, until, you hear a small chitter from Wooyoung. You glance for a moment and see the youngest alpha pressed against the area rug while San nips at his skin and grinds against him. You know they’re both content taking care of each other while you slowly break down Yeosang’s reserve.

After a few wet kisses to his scent gland, you bite it. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to get a rise out of him. Rolling your hips against his, you let out a few whiney sounds, knowing it would get to him quicker. You overhear San chirp lightly, followed by another chitter from Wooyoung. You don’t even look what they’re up to.

“You know you want to let me use you. Don’t you, Sangie?” You tease.

“Kit,” he tries to warn, though, his voice is far more submissive than it was a moment ago.

“Yes?” You nearly purr.

“You gonna use me?” He nearly whines in response.

You chuckle, “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity @monsterfvckersunited

Tag List: @sanjoongie @jaehunnyy @ericssmile @anyamaris @almondmilkeu @shinestarhwaa @northerngalaxy

#codn santa 23 #san smut #wooyoung smut #yeosang smut #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #mfu net #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #san fanfic #san x reader #wooyoung fanfic #wooyoung x reader #yeosang fanfic #yeosang x reader

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stabby-apologist · 7 months

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This Slytherin found the entrance to the Hufflepuff Common Room, but I'm not allowed in.

#tickle the pear #hufflepuff common room #hogwarts kitchens #house elf #hufflepuff #badger #slytherin #alyra black #stabby plays hogwarts legacy ✨️#hogwarts legacy #field guide

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wroteclassicaly · 1 year

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Steve Harrington would wake you up on Mother’s Day by feather light kisses along your shoulder blade and neck, across your cheeks and the rest of your face, nuzzling, inhaling. His five o’clock shadow would tickle your flesh in electrifying prickles. He’s here, he’s warm. He smells like bacon grease and laundry detergent, with a hint of baby Harrington’s favorite baby food this month — banana apple pear. He would cook you breakfast in bed, serve it, then dive into his breakfast between your legs. It’s all about you and what you went through to give him his little boy or girl — or both.

There’s flowers, pancake and syrup kisses, a homemade gift of a handprint that Steve had helped the toddler with (you wanna melt when you imagine your baby’s hand in your husband’s much larger one, making one of your gifts) . Then there is lounging out on the picnic blanket and watching your little baby stumble on chubby legs as they attempt to walk back and forth between you and Steve, their toes in the grass. You spend a majority of the day with your baby, that is until dinner with yours and Steve’s mom (typical exchanges), and he’s surprised you by arranging for your mom to take the baby for the rest of the night, so that he can focus on you.

That’s when the wine comes out and the pizza you and Steve made together, fills your bellies. He dances slowly to some records with you, singing and kissing along your jawline, mumbling his love and appreciation. And later that night when he lays you down in bed, he worships every stretch mark and dent you bore from having the baby. You’ve never been more beautiful to him.

And hey, if you’re not already pregnant, he wouldn’t be opposed to trying for another today…

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thedvilsinthedetails · 2 months

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rosekiller microfic

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL ACE DAY YAYAYAY

here enjoy a rosekiller microfic [1066 words so idk how micro it really is but shhhh] with ace Evan and Barty ‘no homo but I think I love you’ Crouch Jr [I love them so much]

“Truth or dare?”

“Aw come on you guys know me, dare obviously.”

Barty grinned at the circle of his friends sat cross legged all around him.

“Mmm I’ve got one.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow challengingly, everyone knew Regulus gave out the most brutal dares. Barty wasn’t phased though, it was almost impossible to make Barty embarrassed honestly, outwardly at least. Last time he’d taken a dare from Regulus he’d gone around school in bright pink robes for the next week.

“Bring it on Reggie.”

“I dare you to make out with Evan till I stop you.”

Barty scrunched his nose.

“Oh is that it?”

“Uh rude.”

Evan said.

Barty turned to him quickly, placing a hand on his best friend’s cheek.

“Don’t be like that Goldilocks you know I’m hopelessly in love with you. I just meant Reg usually gives…more dramatic dares.”

“Yeah whatever prick. And who says I wanna make out with this dickhead anyway. It’s Bee’s dare not mine.”

“Aw come on Rosie don’t you think I’m pretty.”

Barty batted his eyes and pretended to fan himself, Evan shoved him to the ground with a laugh. Evan had one of the prettiest laughs Barty had ever seen. He wasn’t gay or anything but the way Evan’s halo of blonde curls bounced up and down gently made his stomach flip. Barty sort of wanted to reach out and run a hand through those curls actually, they looked soft. Evan looked soft, in a big purple hoodie and smooth warm skin and red lips currently stretched out in a big smile that just made his whole face light up. Barty found himself joining in. Evan pulled him up off the wooden floor and ran a hand through Barty’s hair, messing it up affectionately.

“Fine, I guess I’ll do it.”

Barty turned, facing Evan properly and lifting a hand to his cheek as Evan pulled him in by the collar. They were so close now, hesitating just before their lips pressed and all Barty could think was EvanEvanEvan.

He could smell him, the conditioner he used softly scented of toffee and pears.

He could feel his breath warm and tickling against his skin.

“Come on get on with it.

Regulus huffed. And suddenly they were meeting in the middle and Evan’s lips were pressed against him and he tasted better than Barty could ever have imagined and and-wow. This was nice. This was lovely. Barty’s hands wandered to Evan’s hair, fingers running through it like he’d imagined only moments ago. But it was so much better than he’d imagined. Evan was so. And it was wonderful. And the way Evan had his arms wrapped around Barty’s waist, pulling him closer made the butterflies in his stomach just soar. He wanted to stay like this forever, just utterly surrounded by Evan. He loved this. He loved- Oh. Oh.

Oh that’s what this was.

And it all made sense suddenly.

Evan pulled back panting for a moment and Barty tried to bite back the smile he could feel forming on his face as he saw Evan’s kiss bitten lips.

He leaned back in again to keep going but Evan glanced his eyes around and sighed.

“Barty.”

He motioned his hand out and Barty glanced around. The room was empty, the others must have snuck out while he and Evan were- he tried to stifle his smile again as he thought about it. He clearly didn’t manage very well because Evan flicked his arm angrily.

“It’s not funny.”

“No, no I wasn’t laughing I just…had fun.”

Evan glanced up at him eyes wide and pupils dilated.

“Y-you did?”

“Yeah. We could…keep going. Only if you wanted obviously.” Barty mumbled.

Evan opened his mouth and then shut it again.

“I- I don’t know if that’s such a good idea Barty.”

Barty felt his world crash down around him. Or it felt something like that at least.

“Yeah. Yeah it was stupid I shouldn’t have- I uh-“

His words felt like lead in his mouth. He was so stupid. So fucking dumb. He-

“Barty.”

Evan’s voice was soft and grounding. Evan’s hand on his shoulder was even more grounding. He looked up at his best friend.

“You good?” Evan asked.

“Yeah. Thanks. I just shouldn’t have said that.”

“Barty…do you like me?”

“I- yeah. A lot actually.”

It felt somehow wonderful and horrifyingly disarming to admit. He squirmed under Evan’s gaze. Vulnerable, as a rule, was not a thing Barty Crouch Jr strived to achieve.

Evan’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh. Oh same. I really…”

Barty’s breath hitched.

“Be my boyfriend, please.”

He asked voice scratchy and quiet.

Evan paused. He seemed to be having a conversation in his mind, eyebrows furrowing. Barty reached up and pressed a thumb between his two brows.

“Talk to me.”

Evan sighed softly.

“I can’t give you the things you want in a relationship.”

“Evan the thing I want is you.”

“I know. But I don’t, I hate sex, it just grosses me out and I don’t think I’ll ever want to do it and I know you like it and- and I don’t want you getting bored of just me.”

“How could I ever get bored of just you?” Barty murmured, eyes searching Evan’s face for some kind of plausible answer. Impossible. Because I could never be bored of him.

“Barty there’s no going back if this all blows up in our faces.”

Evan warned but Barty could feel the way his face had edged closer.

“Evan there already is no going back. Besides I never want to. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

And with that they kissed again. And when they broke apart again it was because Barty couldn’t stop grinning. Foreheads pressed together they breathed gently.

“So will you be my boyfriend?”

Barty asked with a chuckle.

Evan mussed up his hair again.

“What do you think you cunt?”

“Mmm I think your insults won’t work anymore now that I know how irresistible you find me.”

Evan groaned as Barty tugged him up to standing.

“I take it all back, I hate you.”

Barty laughed, pulling Evan to his bed.

They fell asleep there, cuddling and whispering soft words and gentle laughter till Regulus found them in the morning, curled up against each other with soft smiles.

“Fucking FINALLY!”

Barty and Evan just laughed.

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wordsarelife · 6 months

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DAY 11: JINGLE BELLS

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: you and theo bake gingerbread cookies for christmas

warnings: none

note: it’s literally so embarrassing that i forgot to post this because i was busy writing about mattheo riddle 🥲

"where are we going?" you were dragging theo through the castle. he held onto your hand like his life depended on it, you were moving along quickly and he was scared to lose you in the crowd of students.

"the kitchen" he wasn't sure if he had heard you right.

but just as he was about to question it, you came to a halt in front of a portrait of fruit. he watched in silence as you tickled the pear and the portrait swung to the side, revealing a secret entrance.

you closed the door behind the two of you and theo wondered how you had even come to find this place.

"welcome to the kitchen" you said jokingly.

"miss y/n!" a house elf appeared in front of the two of you suddenly.

"dobby!" you said smiling and shook the elfs hand. "this is my boyfriend, theo"

"hello" theo mirrored your action and shook the fragile hand. "it's nice to meet you"

dobby smiled widely "dobby heard a lot about you, master" he looked to you quickly, unsure if he had said too much, but before he could even start worrying you laughed.

"i told dobby all about you"

"i see" theo nodded.

dobby softly took your hand, leading you along the rows of tables. "dobby allowed himself to make everything ready" he explained

"thank you dobby" you gushed, as you saw that he had put out everything you needed. you hugged the elf and dobby smiled proudly.

"of course, miss y/n" he grinned "dobby will be off cleaning, just call him if you need anything"

before you could say another word, the house elf snapped his fingers and disappeared into thin air.

"isn't he cute?" you asked theo, who nodded and smiled about your unusual friendship with a house elf.

"do you come her often?"

you nodded "a few times a week, as you know, i love to bake and the elfs said i was allowed to do it here"

"that's very kind of them"

"yes it is" you pointed to the things on the table "shall we start?"

"start with what exactly?" theo asked "you haven't told me anything since you basically dragged me out of my common room"

you smiled sneekily. "baking of course, silly" you took the bowl and started filling it with flour. "gingerbread cookies"

the confusion still hadn't left theo's face. "how do you make them?"

"have you never baked cookies?" he frowned and your smile faded quickly "oh, sorry"

"no" he quickly shook his head, obviously feeling bad about killing the mood with his past. "it's not too late to learn, is it?" he joked and you relaxed.

"of course not" you kissed his cheek, silently apologizing "luckily you have the greatest gingerbread cookie baker with you"

"yeah?" theo looked around "where are they?"

you giggled and theo was glad that you were smiling again. that was most important.

"me of course" you held the sugar in theos direction "now add some sugar, sugar"

theo cringed and you had to laugh at the cheesiness. "that was terrible"

"yeah" you agreed "luckily you're already my boyfriend"

the baking was quicker than you had anticipated and suddenly the both of you were sitting next to each other, decorating the cookies. while you stuck to a strict green, white and red color scheme, theo's cookies looked like they had fallen into a rainbow. he didn't really pay attention if the colors matched, if he wanted to use green, purple and pink together, he would.

to your astonishment he actually enyjoyed it and even wined when you were finished.

"can't we make more?" he asked and you shook your head laughing.

"we already made like a hundred" you reminded, dragging him to the exit of the kitchen, a box filled with cookies under your arm. you had left a few on a plate in the kitchen for the house elfs to eat. you looked at theo. "and don't think i didn't notice you secretely eating about ten"

"what? i didn't!" he protested.

you looked at him with raised brows and pointed to his mouth "there's icing on your lip" you outstretched a finger, wiping off the sugar loaded substance and put it in your mouth.

"fine" theo admitted "you got me"

"see!" you giggled. he grabbed you face quickly, making you shriek and giggle, before he kissed you. the kiss was sweet, tasting like icing and cookies and if you were responsible for creating lip stick flavors it would be the way theo tasted right now.

"sweet" theo said after he had broken the kiss "just like you" he tapped your nose and both of you scrunched your noses in disgust at the cheesiness.

"thats was terrible" you pointed an accusing finger at it

"yeah" he agreed "luckily you're already my girlfriend" he put his arm around you, finally walking back to your common room. "and now give me one of these delicious cookies please"

taglist: @twistedhistory @bakingintheshire @mqstermindswift @taygrls @athenalikethegoddess @helpimhopelesslyinlove @ahead-fullofdreams

#theodore nott x you #theo nott headcanons #theo nott fanfiction #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #harrypotterimagine #harry potter headcanon #harry potter #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #lizzyschristmascalenderspecial

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vixentheplanet · 8 months

Text

illicit nights | part 2

“gimme few more minutes of this feeling. for right now time don't exist.”

shuri x black!reader | 18+

Summary: You were born and raised in Wakanda, but you chose to leave to pursue a modeling career. You've amassed global fame as an international model, gracing runway shows, featuring in luxury campaigns, and appearing in fashion magazines. You're in the spotlight, and the entire world is watching your every move. After a very public breakup, you decide to return home to reconnect with your country and the people you love.

You didn't expect to catch the attention of your sister's best friend in your attempt to get over your heartbreak, let alone end up in a private sexual relationship with said friend. The Wakandan Queen.

word count: 9k

themes: model/famous reader, queen shuri, childhood friends, hookups

warnings: very explicit sexual relations

i forgot everything… the summary. the tags. the storyline. i actually almost put up the collage that was supposed to be for part 3

i think this was the song… IDK IDK. i was supposed to re-edit it but i don’t have time. 😩🤍 y’all know how i feel about this… so DON’T 😐😒

The breeze tickled your skin as you sat outside, waiting for the sunrise. Your body had only begun to adjust to the time shift, and you usually woke up early enough to have breakfast with your mother before she left for work. The majority of your days were spent catching up with friends, spending time with Izara when she wasn't at work, and visiting some of your favorite places in your hometown—also, Shuri.

It’s been three weeks since Aneka’s party. Since you had left Shuri’s bed with the vow never to sleep together again. The next morning, when you saw Izara, she whistled at you, "Look at Miss, I don't sleep with strangers." She was sitting at the table with a half-finished plate of food. For a second, you weren't sure what she was talking about as she fixed her gaze directly on the bite marks on your neck.

To be fair, you said that there would be no kissing. You did not mention biting, but you're paying for it now. “Oh, yeah.” You speak plainly, attempting to dismiss it as nothing significant, but you know it won't work with your sister. Shuri had spent much time with her lips attached to your neck and a few scattered on your chest. You try to push the images away before they take over your mind and become too vivid.

There’s a bowl of fruit on the counter, and you make your way over to it, examining your options. Banana. Pear. Apple.

Izara keeps pushing. “How was it? Who was it? Did you get their number?” She pressed for specifics about the previous night, and it was too early for you to come up with a sensible explanation.

Ignoring your sister, you take another look at the fruit before settling on a pear and biting into it. "You're asking too many questions, hurting my brain." You speak once you've swallowed. Izara made jokes about you moving back in, but it appears she was the one who did. Despite having her own place, she came here very frequently. You're surprised she came here so early in the morning; she was probably looking for leftovers in the fridge to help with her hangover.

“She went to the market, and you’re lying. I've seen you drunk. You didn't drink much last night." She accuses, and you sigh.

Hangover or not, it’s too early to ask all these questions. "Am I your next research subject?" You sass.

She takes the hint this time. "No, I'm only observing because this means you hooked up with them sober," Izara exclaims, clamping her hands over her mouth. "They must have said something to charm you. You should see them again.” You laughed at her suggestion. Shuri was the one in question, and it couldn't happen again because-

You groan, “That’s not the point of a one-night stand.”

"Well, I guess not, but it wouldn't matter," your sister thinks. “You’ll be leaving eventually, and if you had a good time, I don’t see the harm in having another go at it.” She says carefully before picking up her fork and continuing to eat, and that's the end of it, fortunately.

There's a good chance Izara would give you different advice if she knew who you ended up taking home from Elixir that night. Your sister's words lingered in your mind for the rest of the morning. There was no harm in you and Shuri being sexually involved, considering that you would soon leave Wakanda. It was strictly between the two of you. No one else needed to know, and you're both single consenting adults. The fact that she's your sister's best friend adds a layer of complexity, but if neither of you told her, she wouldn't know. You are not required to inform her if you do not choose to.

That's why, after taking your sister's suggestion, the promise only lasted 24 hours. The next night, you were back in Shuri's bed. You weren't shocked when Shuri accepted your proposal for a no-strings-attached relationship. The two of you hadn't been drunk enough to blame your actions on altered brain chemistry the first time you slept together. Attraction and lust fueled your acts.

Since you would see each other routinely, it was important to reiterate the three terms and conditions established on the first night.

No kissing

No intimacy

Izara (no one) can never find out

With that being said, the past three weeks were filled with friends, spending time with yourself, and lots of Shuri. It was relaxing, and you weren't planning on returning to work right away, but your IMG agency team wanted to check in with you.

You were lounging on the back patio of your childhood home, laptop open, waiting for a video chat from Gabrielle, your manager. It was after midnight in LA, but she worked for you; everything was on your schedule. Your agency was lenient with you, but you understood it was because you are vital to the industry. In only a few years, you became one of the top-earning models in the agency, in high demand. Though that meant nothing in Wakanda, it meant everything out there, and as a result, you are held to a higher standard.

Logically, you knew they weren't going to get rid of you, but your stomach was knotted with anxiety, not knowing what to anticipate. Was the press slandering you as a result of your absence? Does the demand for your campaign involvement decrease?

The laptop on the table chimes, signaling Gabrielle's call, and you immediately answer, her face filling the screen. As she sees your face, her smile broadens. Her surroundings indicate that she is in her home office. The night sky could be seen through the glass windows behind her. "There she is, my lovely lady. We miss you, you know?”

"I miss you guys too." For the most part, you worked with a good group of people. Your team ensured exposure and opportunities at every fashion house, show, and campaign. The money was the product of all the hard work that had gone into everything.

"The team and I wanted to check in and see where your head's at?" Gabrielle says as she shuffles papers off to the side.

Right now is the first time you’ve thought about returning to work since coming home. There was no definite time frame in your mind of when you would return. "I mean, I've missed being in Wakanda and am happy to be back. I know I'll have to go soon, but I'm not ready yet."

Gabrielle nods her head, taking in your words. “Okay, that’s understandable. Of course, we'll give you as much time as you need, but you should be aware that you're the most talked-about person in the world right now," She informs you with a broad grin. A twinkle in her eyes indicates she has some important news to share.

In the industry, that could be good or bad. No publicity was bad publicity, but still. "What do you mean?" you question. You figured once you decided to drop off the face of the planet, it would all quiet down, and the media would go back to focusing on something else.

She responds to your question with a question of her own. “Have you been on social media recently?”

“No, I logged out of all my accounts.” You weren’t actively posting or monitoring what was being said about you.

Keyboard sounds break the stillness before Gabrielle begins again, "Okay, the good news. They're doing fantastic. Your last post a few months ago received 7 million likes. You've had a few viral tweets, and you're always trending on Twitter. Your name on search engines has skyrocketed, and many people wonder where you are. Why haven't they seen you in public?"

Your manager turns back to focus on you. "People want to know where you are and when you’re back on the runway. The phones are ringing. We have brands worldwide competing for your participation in their shows for the upcoming season."

She continues. "This has the potential to be tremendous, a defining career moment, a historic moment in fashion history. The return of Y/N to the catwalk." Gabrielle illustrates her point by moving her hands in a sweeping motion to the side, demonstrating how massive this could be.

She looks at you, eyes still sparkling with excitement.

But you’re anything but, “I don’t know. When would this be?” you ask.

"If you were interested, next month you'd have to come out for a couple of fittings for other companies," Gabrielle reads from a document. It would be completely under the radar. We'll have everyone sign NDAs, and you'll be back in Wakanda in no time." The way she puts it indicates that she considered every issue or inquiry you may have that might convince you to say no.

"The shows wouldn't be until the season starts, but you'd get rehearsal and additional fittings closer to the shows. Think about it.” The details were nothing new to you. You've been doing it for a long time. Fashion Week preparations took a significant amount of time and effort.

You pick at your nails while biting your lower lip. "I'll think about it," you answer.

The woman on the screen looks honestly surprised at your response. You get it. The entire world is waiting for you. Major fashion corporations from all over the world are vying for your attention, but you're reluctant. You would have leaped at this offer a few months ago. Her tone of voice when she mentions your name, "Y/N," is quite defeated. “You can’t let Mya win.” It's as if she's been thinking about it for a while and finally feels like she can let it out.

The mention of your ex-girlfriend irritated you a little. "What are you talking about?" Was she attempting to persuade you to make a decision?

“I mean this in the best way possible. I understand how difficult it is, but you can't hide forever. Particularly not from a chance like this." Gabrielle explains, but her comments are still hurtful.

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Don't pass it up. That's all I'm saying. You already know I want the best for you." She looks you in the eyes, yet her words sting. Were you allowing Mya to win by hiding? Was she satisfied knowing you fled due to the chain reaction your breakup caused?

This ridiculous fucking conversation. "Thank you," you say quickly, avoiding eye contact.

Gabrielle sighs, undoubtedly aware that she has upset you. She's been your manager for a while now. She is highly aware of your moods. “I’ll email you over everything, take a look and get back to me when you can. Take care of yourself.”

Your voice had escaped you. You finish the call with a polite nod.

Gabrielle assumed she was doing you a favor by presenting this ‘great’ news with her oh-so-helpful advice, but now you were filled with dread and regret. Is that what the rest of the world saw? Mya made you run? A heartbroken coward who would rather hide her face than deal with the aftermath of a poor decision to give her heart away to the wrong person. It's the first time you've cried since your split. You weren't upset over the broken romance. It was the fact that you were completely overwhelmed by the idea that Mya had won.

Here you were, at the top of your success, trying to figure out what to do next. Gabrielle wanted to make it appear as if the decision was yours. Still, how she illustrated and spoke about it being a part of fashion history made it evident that she was attempting to sway your mind into saying yes. Yet, you didn’t know if you wanted to, but you also knew in the back of your mind you’d be an idiot to pass this up.

You thought about going to Izara. Your sister was generally your go-to person in situations like these. Even though she was supportive, you knew that telling her you could be going would make her sad. Even though she still had work, you swear she spent every waking moment with you, and you would never complain about being in your sister's company.

It was reassuring to know you had time to think about it, at least because your mind was not in the ideal place to make such important decisions right now. You were in a daze all day, but your spirits lightened when you helped your mother test new recipes for her bakery. When your mother retired, she decided to run a bakery. She spent her whole life as a culinary master and was delighted to share her food with others. You grinned and joyfully took all the sweets she placed in your mouth. You were responsible for informing her if she needed to add more sugar or if the dough required additional butter; it was a tedious job.

Around 3 o’clock, you get a text.

Be here at 10.

Shuri. After typing a short response, you put your phone aside and spent the remainder of the day with your mom. The process of trying out new recipes was time-consuming, but she needed your help, and it was keeping your mind off of other stresses.

"You're distracted," Shuri accuses. Today was the fourth night you've been over this week; it's probably due to a lack of sex life in the months leading up to your breakup, but sex with Shuri is addictive. It's as if she passed a master class in your body, bringing forth noises you'd never heard yourself make. Reaching parts of your body you didn't know existed. Perhaps because there was no expectation of long-term dedication or closeness, which also played a role. Once the night's events were over, you dressed and went home, waiting for the next time you or Shuri sent a text arranging your subsequent encounter.

There was never any foreplay. This was supposed to be fast enough for both of you to get it out of your system and go before anyone became suspicious. That was mostly your mother and sister. Fewer people were in the halls at this time, and the queen's floor had restricted access. Except for Dora, no one was up here. Ayo always met you outside the palace to accompany you in and out as a precaution.

Shuri usually had you naked and trembling when you opened the door, but today, you were lazily sitting on top of her, rotating your hips. Zoned out. Her voice pulls your attention. "I'm not," you exhale, blinking and looking down.

Her hands come up to your waist, forcing you to stop. “You are,” Shuri argues.

Though it was a slow rhythm, the loss of it made you whine. “Stop arguing with me and get on with it.” You complain, brushing your hair away from your face. You should have tied it up. You'll have to redo it when you get home.

"You want me to get on with it?" she says, her brows furrowed. “You're on top of me."

The thought crosses your mind, "Can you take over?" you ask, sighing. She watches you with suspicion from her position below you. You can sense she wants to continue the subject, but there are other moments to start talking about everything bothering you.

Shuri is quiet for a minute before holding out her arms and saying, "Come here," You fall into her embrace, lying on her chest. The calm is only momentary as Shuri puts her arms around you, supporting her feet on the mattress, and thrusts up into you.

Surrendering to Shuri was a better idea than being in control. You lay in her grasp while she takes you apart, bringing you to that state of euphoria your body has grown accustomed to in recent weeks. That beautiful feeling you get after orgasm puts your mind at ease.

It's 2 a.m. when you're tugging your sweatpants over your hips. "It truly wounds my ego that you can walk away every time." In response to Shuri's vulgar joke, you roll your eyes.

"You know, I'm a model. I've walked away from worse circumstances." Rebalancing after an intense release was nothing if you could stroll down a runway in 120mm Louboutins. She's standing there, watching you get ready. She was waiting for you downstairs, where Ayo would meet and accompany you to your car.

You're about to tell Shuri you're ready to go when she asks, "Are you okay?"

Was she seriously going to bring this up once more? You lied when you said, "I'm alright," but you would be fine. The news from your manager was a lot to take in, and after reviewing the emails and all the details, it became clear how vast of an opportunity you had been given on a silver platter. Yet accepting this would mean being forced back into the spotlight without knowing if all of the previous gossip had finally died down. Even more so, being in Wakanda made you remember what taking a step back and breathing felt like. In Gabrielle's opinion, turning it down meant that your ex would win the prize, seeing you fragile and heartbroken.

There was too much to think about, and you couldn't unload it all on Shuri. This was not the type of interaction. You'd both gotten what you came for, and it was time to go.

Shuri must suspect you're not telling the truth. "You know," she begins. “We are still friends.” She's staring at you with seriousness, yet it's unsettling. You've never been close.

You tilt your head in reaction to her statement. You weren't friends; you spent time with Shuri when you were younger, but it was because you were stuck to your sister's hip. Izara adored you and would never push you away, even while you were in the company of her friends. However, once you gained independence, you rarely saw Izara's friends. “We are not friends. You’re my sister's friend.” You put more emphasis on it.

Shuri shakes her head, disagreeing. "That's not to say we're not friends, though." And there is a hint of disbelief in her tone.

"Name one thing we've done together," you challenged, your hands on your hips. Shuri's smirk and the way her eyes look across to the bed you've just finished in tell you exactly what's on her mind.

"When we were kids!" You exclaimed, a flush spreading across your face. She was irritable at times.

Shuri chuckles, amused by your reaction. “I’m trying to say that being Izara’s friend never meant I didn’t care about you.” Sharing your sentiments and emotions with anyone requires you to be attentive, clear, calm, and compassionate. All of these factors lead to genuine intimacy and trust. That didn't help bridge the distance you were attempting to build between you.

“I appreciate that, but I’m fine.” The tone of finality in your voice was enough to make Shuri drop the topic.

The emails Gabrielle sent you were overwhelming once you saw just how many brands there were. Dior offered you ten million dollars to start and end their show. Mugler, Tony Ward, Zahair Murad... You had previously worked with some of these fashion houses while you had just fantasized about others, and now your fantasies were coming true.

You'd be back on the radar of all the celebrity news and gossip websites if you resurfaced in the spotlight. Though, your split with Mya was in the past. What if people continue to link you to her? Mya Hope’s Ex-girlfriend, Y/N, reemerges from the dead after her ex forced her into hiding- oh, and she’s also headlining fashion week. Will your accomplishments become an afterthought?

Despite better judgment, you enter the actress's name into a web search. The universe intervenes just as you're about to torture yourself by pressing enter. The phone rings, and your sister's picture flashes on the screen.

Izara calls to invite you to her apartment to hang out. "I'll be me, you, and Shuri," she says. Immediately, it was odd she wanted all three of you to spend time together. You could understand if it was a group outing. But the three of you together? You haven’t done that since you were kids.

“Shuri?” you repeat.

“Yes, Shuri, it was her idea.” Naturally, it was. It seemed as though she was attempting to prove you wrong. You have no idea why Shuri suddenly became interested in your acquaintance, but it was completely unwarranted. Did she not realize Izara was too observant for her own good and could quickly detect something off between you if you suddenly became too close?

As far as she’s concerned, you and Shuri haven’t seen each other since Elixir three weeks ago. You put your laptop away, feeling even more nervous and anxious. One issue at a time.

You tried to come up with an excuse. You have been doing that a lot lately. “I don’t want to interfere. I have plenty of alone time with you-”

“No!” Izara is quick to cut you off, unwilling to hear any excuse. “How often will I have my two favorite people over?” And you give in because you would do anything to make your sister happy.

That's how you end up at Izara's on a Tuesday evening. Your anxiety was high. What if you and Shuri seemed a little too at ease around each other, and your sister noticed that something had changed between you two? The days of Shuri thinking of you as "Izara's little sister" were long gone since you began hooking up.

When you arrived, Shuri was already in the kitchen, helping your sister prepare snacks. Izara ushered you into the living room, handing you a blanket and telling you to relax.

She temporarily abandoned her duties in the kitchen to get you comfortable. “Shuri and I normally try to do this every once and a while,” Izara explains, turning on the television. “But I don’t mind you crashing. I want to spend as much as possible with you before you leave.” There’s a frown on her face at the thought. A ping of guilt hits you. You can’t imagine going from seeing someone every day since birth to barely spending time with them and being constantly miles away from you.

Your sister and Shuri shared the couch while you cuddled in the armchair alone. It was probably paranoia, but you didn’t want to give away anything that would suspect anything about the rendezvous you've gotten up to these past few weeks. You couldn’t believe Shuri had gotten the two of you into the situation. The woman in question emerges from the kitchen carrying two bowls of popcorn.

She holds the smaller one out to you, “I thought it would be easier for you.”

“How thoughtful,” you say, forcing a smile as you accept the bowl.

That was the first interaction you’ve had throughout the night. You both sat in your respective seats, enjoying the movie. It was good enough that it kept your attention. Occasionally, you would steal glances over at Shuri and find her already looking at you. Could she be more obvious?

Halfway into the movie, Izara hits pause on the remote, much to Shuri’s dismay. “Seriously, Zar, you could have stopped at a worse time.”

Izara’s moving the bowl of popcorn she and Shuri had been sharing onto the table. “I know we’re almost at the end, but I have to pee!”

“Hurry up!” Shuri calls as your sister throws the blanket off her and runs out of the room. You can’t help but laugh at the exchange.

The sound catches Shuri’s attention, and the laughter in your throat dies when you realize you two are alone. Without the movie or your sister’s presence, you can freely glare at her, crossing your arms to emphasize your mood toward her. “Can you stop glaring at me?”

“You’re the one staring at me.” you accuse.

Shuri rolls her eyes, “That’s because I can feel you glaring at me. Stop.”

“No, you did this on purpose, you know? You didn’t ask me if I wanted to be here tonight. You told Izara, knowing I couldn’t tell her no.” It wasn’t an accusation, simply a fact.

Shuri would never outright admit it. Instead, she flashed you a small grin. “This is a completely normal evening.”

You roll your eyes, “I shouldn’t be here, and you know that.”

“Y/N. Do you not realize how ridiculous this is?”

"You don't think it's strange that we're now making plans to spend time together after almost a decade?" While you and Shuri were alone, there was no one else there. You didn't have to be mindful of how you interacted with each other. As you began to spend more time together, especially around your sister, you would have to be extra conscious of what you were doing.

“No, I don’t.” Shuri protested. You wanted to throw the bowl of popcorn at her but opted for flicking her off and going back to ignoring her.

Given the lack of noise, you can follow your sister's movement back into the living room as she exits the restroom. “Okay! Press play,” Izara calls, announcing her return and Shuri’s pressing resume before she even has a chance to resettle on the couch.

In all honesty, Shuri chose a good film. Several actors were unfamiliar, leading you to believe it was an indie production. The storyline was interesting enough to hold your attention, and the plot twist was unexpected, which was a plus. Even though it was interesting, you were relieved when it was over.

"This was fun," Izara said afterward. Getting the dishes ready to bring into the kitchen. "It's been a while since I've seen you two together."

You’re helping with cleaning, folding the blankets, and arranging them neatly on the couch. When the comment gets your attention, You blink a few times, unsure what to say.

Purposely, and you know it’s on purpose. Shuri says, “We should find time to do this again,”

“Yes!” your sister agrees, looking at you. You hum in agreement because you can openly oppose the idea without alerting your sister's suspicions. You believe the discussion will stop there, with the hope of you hanging together again, but there are no firm plans, so nothing is certain.

Then Izara mentions, “Oh! We’re going to the beach on Saturday. You should come with us, Shuri.” You discussed it last weekend while out to lunch with your friend Eshe. Eshe told you about her and a few other people's plans for the upcoming weekend and agreed that the more, the merrier.

You shoot a glance at Shuri, giving her a look silently, begging her to say no, as Izara awaits her answer. Shuri looks you in the eye, “I would love to.”

Right then. You decide that she must despise you.

You and Shuri then depart Izara's after the cleaning is done. When you leave her apartment and head to your respective vehicles, she tells you both to drive safely and message her when you get home.

Shuri heads for the elevator, but you take the stairs instead. You decide to take your time and assume Shuri is already gone because the elevator is faster, but as soon as you exit the building, you see her leaning against the passenger door. Her determination is sexy, but you were annoyed. You bypassed her, going directly to the driver's side.

You managed to get into the driver's seat but couldn't close the door fast enough. “Move.”

Shuri leans inside the car, sighing hard. "Are you seriously upset with me?" Her tone is stoic.

"Are you really coming on Saturday?" You make fun of her serious style.

There is complete silence as Shuri's expression tightens. "Do you want me to come?" she finally says.

Now she needs your input on something. "Clearly, it doesn't matter what I think. You can do whatever you want." You reach for the door once more, but Shuri straightens her posture and shuts it for you.

She didn't contact you again for several days after that night. You didn't think much the first day. She was probably allowing you to calm down. The longer the week went on without so much as a "you up?" text or phone call, the more concerned you became. You realized how irrational you were by the time Saturday rolled around. Mainly because everything in your life had been unpredictable and uncertain. The one sense of consistency was Shuri, and now you don't have that.

You have no idea why you were so adamant about proving to Shuri that the two of you were not close. You had no reason to treat her as you did; the regret was tearing you up inside. You thought you wanted to put as much distance between you as possible, but now that you have it, it drives you insane.

This is why, when Saturday came along, you were excited at the possibility of seeing Shuri in person.

As you arrive at the beach, you immediately notice your sister setting up and laying out a towel. There are a few people you recognize surrounding her. Two of them are your friends, Eshe and Visola. But there was no Shuri.

You put your tote bag down on the ground and asked, "Is everyone here?" since it seems less suspicious than asking for one individual in particular.

"Shuri couldn't make it," Izara replies, spreading the patterned blanket on the sand.

She’s not coming. "Did she mention why?" you question, trying not to seem too disappointed. Was she upset with you?

Your sister shakes her head. “No. She tried to keep the phone call short, but I knew her. She can’t keep anything from me.”

Want to bet?

Izara frowns. "There's a lot of pressure on her in her duties as Queen. It's hard to make everyone happy in politics." Working with Shuri, she certainly knows more about what's going on than she can say, but it's reassuring to know she wasn't avoiding you but was merely responding to more immediate issues.

You don’t say anything else, not wanting to show too much interest. Others joined you, a mix of individuals you knew and strangers. The people you were getting to know asked you many questions about your life as a model, which you gratefully answered.

Wakanda had some of the world's finest beaches, where you could decompress with the sand between your toes and the sound of the waves lapping against the shore. Your thoughts turned to Shuri. Why was she avoiding you? Was this her way of ending things? Have you overcomplicated things?

You couldn’t just outright ask forgiveness and say, “Let’s have sex,” that just seemed rude. But you needed to find a way to start a conversation.

You took a quick body selfie of yourself in the bikini and sent it to Shuri, writing, "Can't believe you're not here." That was playful enough to be true to the essence of your relationship while still acting as a check-in. If she texted you back, you could ask her why she wasn't here, hoping she'd be honest and not simply brush it off.

Shuri would reply as soon as she could; she had pressing matters to attend to. There was nothing you could do but wait, which was excruciating. Hours had passed while you swam, ate, laughed, and drank. Between it all, you couldn't help but check your phone for a single person's message. Nothing.

"You've been checking your phone all day," says Eshe as you collapse back down into your towel.

In the distance, you can see Izara building a sandcastle with some little kids who became drawn to her earlier in the day. "I have?" you say, pretending to be surprised. You knew your phone had barely left your hands today, except when you entered the water.

“Yes! Whoever that is, I hope to Bast that they respond soon." Eshe probably thought you were talking to someone. She's grinning at you, openly inviting you to divulge more details, but you're not going to do it.

“It’s not like that.” You explain leaving it at that. You felt bad, and not knowing how Shuri felt made you uneasy. This was really ironic... You felt like a dumbass.

Eshe rises to her feet, extending out a hand. "Whoever this is isn't thinking about you right now, and you shouldn't either. Give it some time." And you already know she's correct. Checking your phone was not going to speed up the response.

You reluctantly lock your phone and hand it over. Eshe grins and stuffs it inside the discarded shorts she wore over her bikini.

You squeeze every last bit of enjoyment out of the day before the sun goes down and the temperature drops. Along with the collection of selfies you took, you snapped a couple of photos of the sunset and Izara's sandcastle, which you helped find seashells to decorate it. Overall, you had a good time, and before you shower, you show your mother some of the photos you took. "Such a lovely smile. It's no surprise you choose to share it with the rest of the world." The comment warms your heart and serves as a reminder of how proud your mom is of you. She kisses you on the cheek before retiring to bed.

Shuri texts you close to midnight as if she can sense your never-ending thoughts about her.

I know it's late, but can you please come over?

After reading the text message, you feel relieved that 1. she wasn't mad with you. 2. Despite the fact that you've been a brat over the last few days, she was still interested in your arrangement.

Be there soon.

You immediately reply, changing into shorts and a hoodie, easier to take off.

The A.I. system recognizes your face, so the doors to Shuri’s living quarters open up as soon as you arrive. “You didn’t answer my text, you know. You’re lucky I don’t hold grudges-“ the joke quickly dies as you notice Shuri pacing around the room when you enter. She's dressed in her bed attire, which tells you she probably tried to get to bed but couldn’t with whatever was running through her mind.

She clearly isn't fine. "I apologize it’s so late. I've spent the entire day working on social and other issues, and-" She sighs, cutting herself off, her shoulders slouching.

"You're not going to like hearing all of this. All I need is to get my mind off of today." You've been overthinking, and the last few days have given you mental clarity.

You see, you're the problem, and maybe you've been taking it out on Shuri, who was trying to do nothing but be there for you, but you chose to push her away. This arrangement was supposed to be fun, but you've recently caused tension by acting in ways that seem intended to demonstrate to Shuri that you were not friends and that there's nothing left between you. What the hell is the matter with you?

Shuri has had a difficult day. They are to be expected, given the amount of responsibility she carries. While you wouldn't mind if she fucked you to vent her frustration, it wouldn't help her sense of peace. It would only be a temporary relief, and as soon as you left, she’d be right back inside her head stressing. That's when you decided to prioritize her pleasure. You would apologize another time.

You make your way over to her, removing your shoes. "It's alright, just breathe," you say as you take her hand in yours. You pull her into you and begin kissing her neck, creating a safe zone. Stripping her of her clothing, you guide Shuri over to her bed. "Lay back." You speak in her ear, and she complies.

You switched positions. Shuri was the one who needed your support to forget about the stress. Her legs parting instinctively, you bring your fingers between her folds to feel her, and she’s dripping. You wanted to make sure she made the most of this opportunity to focus on herself and her comfort.

A thought occurs to you. "I'd like you to take deep breaths in and out." You tell her, caressing her on the outside but not delving into where she needs you the most. You knew deep breathing was a good activity that helped stimulate tranquility and restore stability; it always came in handy before runway shows.

"I want you to say 'In' when you feel me inside of you," you finally say, sliding one finger into her wetness and feeling her clench around you. A breath of release lips passes her lips as you watch some of the tension melt away. "And when you feel me pulling away, say 'out' and take a deep breath."

You pull your finger back for a second, swiping along the ridged pleasure point and massaging her inner walls. Shuri responds with an "In," and as you retract, moving out and stroking around the outside of her entrance, she responds with an "Out."

The two of you continued with that pattern until Shuri's voice trailed off, no longer speaking as she relaxed into sheets.

"You need and deserve this. To be able to breathe and feel happy." You tell her quietly, taking pleasure in the way her face contorts in delight.

Breathy gasps escape her lips as she concentrates on the sensation of your fingers stroking around her, unconcerned about the tension of the day.

Your fingers were drenched in her juices, and the more you felt the moisture inside her, the more you wished to taste it. You get on your stomach with your head buried in between Shuri's legs. Shuri relaxed into your touch as you massaged circles into her skin, aware that the pleasure she was experiencing had enhanced her sensitivity.

Her fingers grasped the sheets, and her abs tensed in anticipation. You slid your tongue around the inner and outside folds before beginning a gentle licking with a flat tongue around the entire surface area. The moans from her lips turned you on and left you damp.

It was nice to concentrate only on Shuri's satisfaction. You appreciated the way her hips stuttered as you took her apart. As you pushed her further and further into ecstasy, she lapped up the sensations of arousal her body provided.

She was definitely close, and you couldn't wait to taste her on your tongue. Shuri soon had her hips working in little circles as she pressed into your fingers, chasing her orgasm. Moaning became increasingly audible.

You softly coaxed her inner walls with two fingers pushed inside her. "Mmm, Y/N," Shuri says as she calls your name. Her walls are spasming around you, and you know she's coming. Her breathing is labored, and you appreciate her strength because she's still careful not to squeeze her thighs around your head even though she's breaking.

You focus on her clit, sucking in tandem with your fingers, and soon she's letting out those lovely sounds, and her body jolts as you feel her release.

"Do you feel better?" you ask, happy at the satisfaction on her face.

"Yeah," Shuri confirms as she sinks lower into the bedding. Hopefully, she'll be able to sleep soon. You get out of bed and are ready to leave when she snaps her head up. "Where are you going?"

“Home.” You answer, straightening out the wrinkles in your hoodie from lying on the bed.

“Now? I figured we were going to-," She started, but you stopped her.

"I'd love to have sex with you, but I think you should rest. You're obviously overworked," you observed, frowning.

Her tone of voice shifts. “You think I’m going to let you leave my room without coming?” She's in charge now and not interested in a debate.

“I-“ The way she keeps cutting you off indicates that there isn't much you can say to convince her.

Shuri continues, “Giving you pleasure is relaxing. I like concentrating on you,” she admits. And that breaks you. How could you deny her? It’s enough to make you stop, but you don’t proceed to the bed, waiting for her next command.

"Take off your hoodie." She gave the order. You take the ends of the hoodie and pull it over your head. “Shorts,” Her instructions are brief but effective. You're not standing there in your bra and underwear, waiting for her next command, which never comes. Shuri simply lifts her eyebrows, and her look conveys all. She need not speak a word to command your submission. She already holds it.

You reach around to release the bra clasp, allowing the fabric to fall to the floor. Shuri is biting her lower lip as she watches you take your time slipping your panties down your legs.

You climb back onto the bed, this time with your exposed body straddling Shuri's waist. You're in the same situation you were in a few days ago, but this time no other issues are distracting you. Shuri had you under her control.

“Are you happy?” Shuri seems absolutely ravenous, eyes burning with hunger. She can't get enough of you undressed, no matter how many times she's seen you. Her desire for you never dies.

"That's not where I want you," she says, biting her lower lip again. Shuri's voice is low, silky, and seductive, and you can feel yourself getting aroused at the sound of it.

“Where do you want me?” you breathe. You were unprepared for what she said next.

She points to her face, “Up here.” Shuri chuckles at the expression on your face. Completely surprised she was requesting such a thing.

You purse your lips, contemplating her request, “Shuri, that’s-“

Her hand grabs your ass, squeezing. "Don't make me tell you again. I hate repeating myself.” The hand on your backside is a warning. Knowing what would happen if she had to tell you again, you're nearly tempted to disobey.

Carefully, you climb up her body until her head is between your thighs, supporting your weight on the knees. In anticipation, you hover above her face, fingers gripping the headboard. "Mm, it's been four days, and she really misses me."

In this position, Shuri had complete access to your sensual zone and the most important spots to stimulate. She drags her mouth across your clit, as if sampling before diving in. Stretching her neck up to take the sensitive bud into her mouth and sucking, you can feel the flat of her tongue licking side to side in unison.

"S-Shuri," you gasp, already stuttering. You had to be careful not to put all your weight on her face, no matter how much you wanted to get lost in the feelings. You were intent on not harming her in the back of your mind. Both the pleasure of Shuri's actions and the effort of maintaining your balance cause a burning sensation in your core and a trembling in your thighs.

Shuri's tattooed hand reaches out from your waist and rubs across your skin. You whimper at the separation of her lips from you. "Stop thinking and ride my face," Shuri murmurs quietly beneath you. Her words make your pussy clench.

You readjust your position slightly. "I don't want to hurt you." You've had plenty of sexual interactions, but this was the first time you'd been asked to ride someone's face.

As teeth penetrate into the flesh, you feel a stinging ache on your right thigh. The ache lasts for a split second before transforming into pleasure that has you gasping. "Did you really just bite me?"

"If you did what I asked, I'd be doing something else with my mouth. Can you be a good girl?" Shuri's words are breathed directly into your heat as if she's speaking to it.

"I love watching your pussy react to my words." Although you can't see her face, you can hear her smirk in her words. Cocky. It was difficult to loosen up even when your muscles were begging for you to do so. Even if you want to, you are afraid of hurting her; there was no place for argument in the face of such a dominating tone. Shuri grabs your waist with a punishing hold and lowers you to sit on her face.

The sensation of feeling her beneath you is exhilarating. Her tongue moves slowly around your clit, igniting your pleasure in small sparks that will gradually consume your body.

Shuri's hands on your hips encourage you to rock back gently against her face. You submit. Considering Shuri's strength, you know that if you wind up injuring her, she'll quickly remove you. You rest one hand on the wall for support, slightly moving your hips as if testing. You were attempting to appreciate it, knowing that it was making you feel good as part of Shuri's relaxation. You kept rocking as she flicked her tongue on your clit, your knuckles paling as you grasped the headboard tighter.

Shuri is massaging reassuring circles into your thigh, letting you know relaxing and enjoying yourself is okay. Shuri was no longer licking into you with her tongue, allowing you complete control of your pleasure, and the fact that she was letting you use her made you increasingly wet. "Fuck," you exhaled, moving your hips and grinding against her lips.

Shuri effortlessly lifts you up to take a breath. “You’re doing so good, baby girl.” The name sends shivers up your spine. When Shuri lets you back on her face, she keeps her tongue still, allowing you to grind against it. You're thankful for this experience; it was so unique you can't imagine never feeling like this again. Hips snapping straight up and down, you find a rhythm and lose yourself.

"Shuri, I-I-" you cut yourself off with a gasp, and your mouth opens wide. The delicate, breathy sounds you used to make have vanished, replaced by loud, high-pitched moans.

Sensing you’re close, Shuri cups your breast, rubbing the sensitive bud between her fingers. The additional sensation causes your lips to falter. One of your hands lets go of the bed, clutching the wrist connected to the fingers holding your chest.

Your free hand grips the headboard, adjusting the pressure and pace. When you come, it’s with a scream of Shuri’s name you’re sure anyone on the floor could hear. Your brain whites out as your body curls in on itself. You try to move away from Shuri's face, but her grip keeps you there as she refocuses her attention on the fluids released during your climax. Her tongue laps hungrily across your pussy.

It was most undoubtedly the most intense orgasm you'd ever had. You're not even aware that tears are welling up in your eyes.

“Shuri! Fuck! Please, Shuri!" You cried, your voice rising in octaves as your stomach tightened. You will never be able to compete with Shuri's strength. She won't let you go until she's satisfied, at which point you collapse against the wall, exhausted. Your legs continue to twitch, and your body is oversensitive, yet you move lower till you're on her chest.

Shuri swiped two of her fingers inside of you as she watched you pant and struggle to come down. Your breath hitched, and your legs shook a little more. Coated in your come, Shuri brought them to her lips. She needed more, as if she wasn’t already covered in you. You lowered your gaze. Her face glistened, and you brought your mouth to her chin, sucking at the flesh and using your tongue to clean yourself off her. “Such a nasty girl.” you just moan in response, moving to the other side of her face.

You slide off her body and onto the empty side of the bed next to her. Closing your eyes. “Someone’s sleepy,” Shuri's tone is teasing.

Your eyelids are fluttering open, “How are you not tired?”

“Stamina, it’s a gift from Bast.” She moves closer to you, and the next time you open your eyes, she looks down at you.

Taking in your tiredness Shuri informs you, “You know you can stay, right? I don't kick you out or anything. You leave as soon as we're through." That is true. Shuri will never ask you to leave. You take the initiative since there was never any reason for you to stay. But your body is against the idea of standing up right now. You can't get up, so Shuri must have gotten her wish.

Instead of responding vocally, you wrap your sweaty body deeper under the covers. She should really change these.

Shuri speaks up again when she notices this. "Thank you for stopping by. I know you're upset with me."

This time you mumble, “I’m not mad at you.” Face shoved into the pillow.

“Really? Because you slammed the car door in my face the last time I saw you."

You turn to face her, and your eyes are half-closed. "Your pillow talk is awful."

There's a moment between you, and Shuri's expression is filled with uncertainty. She is hesitant to express her feelings. You're trying to appear interested, fighting against your body's exhaustion. Maybe this talk should have happened before you had sex. “Whatever is on your mind. Say it,” you encourage instead of shutting her out.

She takes another minute before saying, "I don't want you to think that all I want from you is sex. You're not some random person, Y/N. I've known you practically my entire life, so come to me if you have a problem."

“That’s why I told Zar to invite you to the movie night.” She explains. “I just don’t want you to think I see you as a body where you can’t tell me when you’re feeling down. It makes me feel shitty.”

You’re apologetic. “ I'm sorry. I didn't notice." You had no idea how Shuri was feeling. It must be difficult as well. She could not view you like a warm body and renounce her caring attitude toward you.

Since she was so honest, you told her what you failed to do many nights ago. "I received a call from my manager," you explain. "I have opportunities flying into my lap, and of course, I'm living my dream as the most in-demand model in the world right now, but I don't know what to do. I don't know what I'm doing for the first time in my life, and it stresses me out." The words flow freely off your lips, spilling out everything you've been feeling, and it feels really good. You understand how stressful it was to hold all that in and be burdened with so much anxiety and despair.

You sigh, adding, "And the only normalcy I have is sleeping with my sister's best friend." Saying it out loud puts into perspective the reason for your actions these past few days. Subconsciously, you were concerned that spending too much time with Shuri and opening up about your feelings might jeopardize what you had—realizing now how natural it is to talk to each other without awkward silences or pauses between. You may not have actively pursued a strong friendship, but you care about her well-being as much as she does about yours.

Shuri groans next to you, “Don’t say it like that.”

“It’s true,” you mumble, sinking deeper into the comfort of Shuri’s sheets. They smelled like her and sex, but mostly like her. Your body settled into relaxation post-orgasm, and you felt yourself getting sleepy again, eyes hazy.

“Whatever decision you make, you have people who care for and fully support you.” Shuri’s words are comforting and true.

You smile, eyes closing again. “And I know I said we’re not friends, but you’ve always been in my life,” you admit.

To summarize. “You’re you, and I’m me, and we’re just us.” The smile on Shuri’s face tells you she’s content with that.

“Wake me up in like an hour,” your body no longer has the strength to fight off sleep. You turn around and finally shut your eyes.

When you reopen your eyes, you're surprised by your surroundings. This room is way too large to be your own, and there's a lot of sunlight streaming in through the windows. You sit up, aware that you are still in the Citadel. Shuri isn't next to you, but you can hear noises coming from the bathroom and assume she's getting ready for the day. You adapt to the light by blinking a few times, feeling clear-headed and revitalized.

Who says you can't solve your troubles with amazing sex and a good night's sleep? You stand up and begin your usual practice of playing hide and seek with your clothes. Shuri has returned to the room by the time you're dressed, and her eyes widen as she sees you awake.

You playfully narrow your gaze on her. "I said one hour," you complain, but your words have no bite.

Shuri defends herself by raising her palms. "In my defense, I fell asleep."

You grab your car keys as you smile at her surrendering. "I think I should go." You've definitely overstayed your welcome.

"I'll have Griot direct Ayo to keep the hallway to the rear entrance clear for the next ten minutes." She is already planning your getaway, and you can’t help the laugh that manages to escape you.

“What’s so funny?” Shuri inquires, her expression questioning.

“You are using the Dora Milaje to distract people so you can get your sneaky link out of the palace undetected.” You chastise, mockingly shaking your head.

Shuri laughs and tilts her head. “You have such a colorful way of describing things.”

Before you leave, Shuri asks, “Are we good?”

"We're fine," you say.

Shuri smiles and nods.

As you walk away, your cheeks begin to hurt from smiling so much.

168 notes · View notes

p1nk-b1tes · 3 months

Text

chérie amour

[ rolan x fem!tav smut ]

summary: rolan leaves his spellbook and his lunch at home, so tav decides to pay him a visit at work to return them.

warnings: blowjobs, semi-public sex, risky sex

words: 3200

find part one here

click here to read on ao3 or read below:

A leather-bound spellbook and a sandwich wrapped in paper, left uncharacteristically atop the kitchen table. Presumably forgotten.

Tav rubs her eyes of the lingering hold of sleep, her brow furrowing at the sight in front of her. Rolan isn’t usually the forgetful type but he’s also far from perfect, no matter how perfect he appears to be through her own eyes. Tav picks up the sandwich and the book and peers around the corner towards their front door and finds that the pack he usually takes with him to work is missing. With the weight of both of the items in her hands she wonders how he didn’t notice he was leaving them behind.

She knows right then what she has to do. It’s no question.

She’ll visit him at Sorcerous Sundries for lunch.

—

The mid-morning sun is warm and the clouds are sparse as she walks the streets of the lower city. It’s a busy day–the first of the month always is–and vendors line the streets in their colorful tents, selling wares of all kinds and doing whatever they can to entice her to stop by and take a look.

A fruit stand catches her eye first. It’s obviously been popular - if the half-filled crates are any indication - and the brillant shapes and colors of the perfectly ripe fruit make her want to buy it all just to sink her teeth into it and feel the sticky juice run down her arm. She looks around at everything while the skinny gnome man behind the stall asks her about her morning and her plans for the rest of the day. She’s more than happy to entertain him and before she leaves she promises to return to him on her way home. The man laughs and tells her he can’t promise anything remaining past mid-day. She buys a pear just in case.

There’s also a man selling fish, and another selling polished pearl buttons, and a woman offering quick tailoring services offers her a toothless smile as she passes by. She passes a florist and decides to buy a small bouquet on a whim before stopping at a sweet mother and daughter selling pastries. The fruit-filled one calls her name and she swaps some gold pieces for it, adding a couple extra simply because she can. When the mother calls after her to tell her she overpaid, Tav waves goodbye and wishes her a happy afternoon.

By the time she reaches Sorcerous Sundries her smallpack is a little heavier, her coin purse lighter, and her heart warmer.

The roar of elementals and the tingle of magic tickling the hairs on her arms act as a pleasant and familiar welcome as she walks through the doors of the grand building. Lively as ever, the controlled chaos of magic and the constant pursuit of knowledge feel like a second home to her. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tav makes her way to the second floor of Sundries, careful as she steps around a twinkling projection of a tomcat, fast asleep in the center of a step, and making sure to wave to Lia as she goes, promising to come back later to properly say hello when she’s not busied with a patron. Finally, she cheesily blows a kiss to Rolan’s projection at the top of the stairs and promptly vanishes into a portal.

Navigating through the many corridors and staircases of Sundries’ private sector is easy despite something being different, moved, or aggressively renovated each time she visits, and it’s not long until she finds herself where she knows Rolan is most likely to be found. She peeks her head into the library first. It’s empty. So is his private study. With that knowledge in mind she turns on her heels and skips down the red carpeted hall until she reaches the end and raps her knuckles on the ornate wooden frame of the archive library’s grand mahogany door. She peeks in hesitantly, carefully inching the door open in case someone else is inside.

The only person she finds inside is that pretty tiefling with his hair tied back as he always has it and his spade-tipped tail waving back and forth behind him in a slow, even pattern – the way it does when he’s concentrating on something.

She tucks the hand holding the flowers behind her back and silently slips inside the threshold. It smells of parchment and ink. One of her favorite smells. It smells like his study back at their home.

“Hello, handsome,” she sings.

Rolan stands at the foot of a sprawling bookcase and is surrounded by piles and piles of scrolls. In his hand is another, yet it appears to be of the non-magical type, and he looks over it with great detail. She spies the fluffy end of a quill feather and assumes he’s holding the thing between his teeth. He must be cataloging.

At the sound of her voice he startles slightly and turns at the waist, an annoyed look etched onto his features at whoever had the gall to call him handsome. That look dissipates the second he realizes who it is and his sour features soften and warp into something much nicer. Much warmer. Fondness.

He pulls the quill from between his teeth and smiles, baring those pointy teeth.

“Hello, my love. What are you doing here?”

Both the scroll and quill get placed down on a nearby table and he moves in long strides to meet her at the door. Just before he’s able to close the gap between them a hand is pulled from behind Tav’s back and the tiefling is faced with a bouquet of flowers. Once again that look of confusion flits back, but there’s a little smirk on the corner of his mouth that tells Tav he’s more than a little surprised.

“What’re these?”

“Just a little something I picked up on the way here,” Tav says and thrusts them into his hands. He takes them, eyeing them carefully. “Thought they reminded me of you.”

They’re small flowers with delicate petals that begin a brilliant red and fade to a pale yellow at the tips. On the stem there are tiny needle-like barbs, and she tells him to be careful followed by a quick kiss to his freckled cheek.

“You’re adorable, but I find it difficult to believe you came all the way here to bring me flowers.”

Tav huffs in feigned disbelief but ends up laughing anyway. He can never simply enjoy a nice moment. Always one to ask ‘but why?’

“You’d be correct,” she says and reaches into her smallpack that's draped over her shoulder, pulling out his spellbook and the sandwich he’d forgotten. His brows shoot upwards towards his horns. “Get a little distracted this morning?”

The spellbook is taken from her first and tucked under his arm, the sandwich next. He laughs at his own forgetfulness.

“Must've slipped my mind. I swear I misplaced it somewhere…” He looks down at the sandwich in his hand and worries his lip for a second, considering his options. “I’ll admit I’ve been too caught up in the archives to even think about lunch, but now that you’re here I wouldn’t mind taking a break.”

That sounds like music to Tav’s ears.

They settle down at a small table in the archives library, surrounded by tomes and books and scrolls, and look out over the city through doors Rolan had opened up to reveal a quaint balcony. Tav eats the pastry she’d purchased along with the little bits of meat that fall out of the end of Rolan’s sandwich. The flowers she’d given him sit between them in a cup; he’ll have to search out a proper vessel to hold them after she leaves.

They talk about various topics while they enjoy the other’s company. They chat about the tower and the renovations being done to it, they chat about Tav’s progress on her painting, and they chat about how close Rolan is to finally being done with the entire scroll debacle (the piles on the floor say otherwise, but Tav is inclined to believe him anyway). And after a lovely hour has passed and Rolan announces that he must get back to work soon, he’s leading her towards the exit with a hand on the small of her back when she announces that she would like to give him one more thing before she goes.

“What is it?” He asks, and her eyes dart down the empty hall before she sinks down to her knees.

Rolan nearly chokes on his saliva.

“Tav- this isn’t necessarily a private floor, you know. The staff -”

She looks up at him from where she’s settled back on her calves, her hands already coming up to rest on the front of his thighs under his robes, “ I haven’t seen a single person come through here since I arrived. Plus, I never forgot about returning that favor you did for me.”

“Returning it isn’t necessary, I wanted to do that. I needed it. But Tav, just because they haven’t come up here doesn’t mean they won’t -”

His words come out rushed. She can hear the anxiety building in his voice about what he wants to say and what he knows he should say. Tav cuts him off again and squeezes the flesh under her palms.

“And I want to do this.”

He swallows thickly, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat, and then he makes a noise that is almost weak, nearly a whimper, and Tav’s fingers migrate upwards for the pretty pearl button on his trousers.

It takes a minute to get him hard - from the anxiety gnawing at his nerves, she presumes - but eventually he begins to stiffen up under her palm, and finally, when he’s hot and heavy in her grip, she leans forward to lick at the underside of it and nose at that pretty, pulsing vein on the side.

The first touch of her hot tongue against his skin makes him groan and slightly bow inwards at the waist, as if trying to hide himself away. The more she licks the more he attempts to disappear.

The ridges stiffen up on the sides of his cock, the space between them expanding as he swells to full hardness, and Tav worships each of them with her mouth. She has always loved the way they feel in her mouth - along her tongue and against her lips. If she could stay on her knees mouthing at every hard line and ridge she would. Just mapping out which parts of his cock pull different noises from his throat… Finding what makes him whine - what makes him groan. Those uneven lines and the soft, spongy head. She drops her chin to lick a long line from root to tip and one of Rolan’s hands weaves its way into the back of her hair when she pays special attention to his sensitive frenulum.

She takes the tip into her mouth and sucks, flicking the tip of her tongue over it in quick movements, and Rolan’s golden eyes dart around wildly, as if he’s worried that someone will pop out of the shadows and catch them. The portal at the end of the hall whips and whorls, threatening with every ripple to send someone through. The idea is terrifying. It’s also exhilarating.

The rest of him that her mouth doesn’t reach gets jerked by her hand and slowly she begins to take him deeper. The tiefling makes a sound that resembles a low growl as she takes him further into her mouth, his legs bowing slightly and the hand on her head petting at her hair in an encouraging manner. She takes him until he twitches and her jaw begins to ache with the uncomfortable stretch.

When Tav pulls off to take a breather she can’t help but chuckle when she looks up. The poor tiefling is already breathing harder than usual and his freckled cheeks are so beautifully flushed. She wishes they were home so she could tear his clothes from his chest to see how his skin blooms with the same hue. She’d love to find out how that heated skin tastes under her tongue.

“Is it okay?” She asks after a brief moment of silence, her dominant hand still working diligently over his shaft.

He nods and cradles her cheek sweetly, voice breathless already. “Yes. Gods, yes.”

What they’re doing is anything but sweet but she leans into his touch anyways.

“You look nervous, is all.”

This time he huffs in something resembling amusement and shakes his head at her.

“Of course I am. I’m still working in case you forgot.”

“I haven’t been on my knees for that long,” she playfully retorts, returning his token sass right back at him. His brows pinch together when she tightens her grip and presses the pad of her thumb up the underside of his shaft. “I haven’t gone brainless from your dick just yet, my love.” He twitches in her hand at that. “Just relax. If someone comes in I’ll be on my feet before they finish opening the door.”

“Fine, just -“ he guides her back in gently and she takes him into her mouth, allowing him to sit nice and heavy on her tongue for a moment. The moment gets ruined when he experimentally decides to punch his hips forward.

Tav chokes.

The sudden, ugly noise that she makes makes him cringe and he spits something in infernal through his teeth. She furrows her brow, he translates: “we are going to get caught…”

Tav blinks away the wetness from her eyes and pulls off, tugging at his tip while she recovers.

“Just surprised me. I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

She looks gorgeous on her knees. She always does.

Rolan presses his thumb claw to her bottom lip and pulls it down, exposing her bottom teeth. “I find that hard to believe.”

Instead of trying to convince him she’ll be quiet, Tav decides to show him.

She guides his cock back between her lips and sucks lightly, running her tongue along all of the ridges and smooth underside and he moans a beautiful, sweet sound that makes her core ache for him. She bobs her head slightly, taking him the way she knows he likes, and his knees threaten to buckle from beneath him when she ascends to suckle at his head again. For a while she takes him just like that.

“Tav-“ he hisses, and a sharp canine peeks out to dig into his lip,” -I’m close”

She sits back on her heels and his cock slips past her lips with a slick pop. She’s quick to press the flat of her tongue against the bead of pre that leaks from the tip and hums pleasantly at the taste of him on her tongue. His taste is unique. Spice and something so uniquely him.

Outside the balcony’s doors, a flock of birds takes flight, the quick flapping of their wings startling the pair inside, and instead of pushing her away, his reflexes pull her closer, effectively burying himself into her throat. Luckily this time she’s able to adjust. Her nose get buried in the thick fabric of his robes and she tries to focus on the familiar scent of her lover woven between the threads and not on how impossibly full her throat is. She flexes around him and threatens to gag with every impossibly long second that passes until he’s choking on his own breath, simply caught up at at the sight of her.

Tav works over him with her mouth, sucking around what she can fit in her mouth and jerking off what she can’t, all while Rolan tries not to lose his mind. He’s more than surprised how long he’s managed to hold out thus far. There’s something about the idea of a risky blowjob at work that lights a fire in his belly and makes his balls tighten up at the thought.

It’s dangerous. It’s delicious.

He can’t wait to blow his load down her throat and promptly get back to his tedious, boring tasks. The image and memory of this moment will be burned into the back of his eyelids until he gets a chance to have her again. He already knows it’ll be a torturous next few hours.

He tosses his head back and guides her mouth over him with a loose hold on her hair, gently encouraging her as she does all the work and praising her with mumbled words that tumble past his lips like a mantra.

A thick glob of pre meets Tav’s tongue and she moans loud and rich, the vibrations going straight to Rolan’s groin and making his balls tighten up. He gasps and throbs against her tongue. It only urges her to continue.

A few more bobs of her head and perfect twists of her wrist are all it takes to send him over the edge. He cums across her tongue in ropes, groaning behind his teeth dug harshly into his lip, a hand flexing in her hair as he does. She already knows she’ll have to fix her appearance before she heads back out on the town but that’s the least of her worries. There are much better things to focus on, like the richness of his scent flooding her senses, and the sound of his moans in her ears, and the fact that the hand on her head is so large…

She takes everything he gives her until he’s pulling out of her mouth from overstimulation and carefully tucking himself back into his trousers, fixing the button with haste. Then, ever the gentleman he is, he offers Tav his hand and helps her from the floor.

Her knees ache and she brushes the dust from her clothes.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” He asks, a little breathless, and pulls the woman in by the small of her waist to press up against his chest. They breathe together as they come down from the highs of it all. The halls and the archive library are as silent as they were before they began. It’s a blessing now. A miracle before.

Tav chuckles and pulls back slightly to smooth out the wrinkles in his robe and comb a piece of hair back behind his ear. He’s gracious enough to help smooth out the bumps in her hair that he messed up.

His question hangs in the air between them still. There’s suggestiveness in his tone, and even more in how his dick refuses to deflate against her thigh. If she doesn’t choose her words carefully she could be leaving at a much later time than right now.

“Until later, Master Rolan,” she says and picks up her smallpack, slinging it over her shoulder and leaning up to give him a kiss. The smirk on her lips is undeniable. Woven between her words is a promise.

Rolan digs his hands into her clothing and leans down to nose at her temple.

Then she’s gone, and Rolan is forced to turn back to his scrolls. Red-faced and still a little hard in his trousers… Those damned scrolls.

He isn’t sure which of them will be the death of him…

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #rolan bg3 #rolan fanfiction #rolan x tav #bg3 rolan #rolan #rolan x reader

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