#just two girls latching on to the darkness inside of them personified

[gardenofearthlydelightss]

just saw a tiktok comparing powder & silco to abigail and hannibal. i am SICK. SICK

[highqueenofelfhame]

feel the fire, part three. (fin.)

Rowan hadn’t seen Aelin for two weeks and he was starting to think that he had majorly fucked up. He hadn’t meant to kiss her, either. But the moment… you couldn’t blame him, could you? The moment had been perfect with the quiet music floating from the jukebox. The were under the illumination of the edison bulbs that hung from the ceiling all over the bar to give it a soft, warm light. Not to mention how beautiful she had looked after letting their magic twist and play together. Aelin had practically been glowing.

Her friends, sans the boyfriend, had been in and out of the bar on the weekends and a handful of weeknights, but Aelin was never with them. Their explanation for it was usually kind of half-assed and felt like a lie but Rowan hadn’t been able to prove it.

Maybe he had been crazy, though, to think that she felt it, too. That she felt the undeniable pull toward him that he felt to her. It was like some sort of tether was pulling them together, like the universe wanted them to be together. Rowan didn’t believe in soulmates, but he knew this girl was his.

It was embarrassing, the way he was feeling. Maybe she just wasn’t interested, but that didn’t stop him from leaving Luca to deal with the bar for the night while he stayed up in his studio apartment above the bar. For several hours he’d been sitting at an easel, sketching and painting Aelin the way she had looked in the moments after she used her magic. It was impossible for him to get it out of his head, and he had sketched her three times before deciding that he had to paint her to get it exactly right.

He painted her warm, with her eyes blazing and hair like the flame she had let curl up his arm like a snake. He painted her with a sun halo because as far as he was concerned, she was a goddess and deserved to be seen as one.

Gods, she’d had such control over her power. Even after not using it for such a long time it had been easy for her. It had been warm, but a comfortable warm. Nowhere near burning him, and the arrow she had shot at his face had felt like a cool wind when it shot passed his ear. Most people with fire magic couldn’t do what she could. Most people with fire magic were scared of it, scared of the destruction. But Aelin had never looked so alive as she did when she played with him.

“Boss?” Rowan didn’t turn to look at Luca in the door. He kept his eyes pinned on the finished painting.

“Yeah?”

“There’s someone down there asking for you,” he said, and when Rowan turned to look at him, he was rubbing the back of his neck. Rowan sighed.

“What’d you do?”

“Nothing! I - nothing. She just walked straight up to the bar and asked for you.” At the mention of it being a woman, Rowan was downstairs in an instant, praying to whatever god might be listening that it be Aelin.

It was.

And holy gods was she radiant. Rowan had never been more accurate to compare her to something as he was when he called her the sun personified. Standing before him now, her hair had that unusual lustre under the lights that made it look like liquid gold. The golden core of her eyes seemed to jump and dance around her iris, making the turquoise of them all the brighter. Aelin was glowing from within and damn him if she wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“I’d been seeing someone,” she started, taking a deep breath. “And he… my magic made him uncomfortable. Maybe nervous is the better word but uncomfortable all the same. So I stopped using it thinking that it made other people uncomfortable too and they’d just never had it in them to tell me. Like other people might think there need to be checks against people with magic like mine. But then… then you saw me use my fire. You saw me use my fire and you didn’t balk. You didn’t run the other way like it was too much for you. You smiled so hard at me like it was what you’d been waiting for the entire time I’ve known you.

“I left the other day because I needed to end things with him, and I did. But I also had to make sure I wasn’t just latching onto you because you pulled me out of this dark thing. And then I realized I was and couldn’t figure out what it meant. And then… I realized you still wanted me when I was mostly faded. Maybe you even wanted me when my magic was eating me from the inside out, I don’t know. But you pulled me out of darkness and despair. You lead me back into the light and I am in love with you.”

Around them, the bar had gone quiet. Like they were all waiting for Rowan to say something, do something. So he made his way around the bar and paused in front of her, his fingers grazing her cheekbones and threading through her remarkable hair.

“Is that okay?” She whispered, as if her loving him was anything short of a miracle.

“It’s perfect,” he murmured, and then he set her on fire once again with a searing kiss. Behind them, the bar erupted in cheers. Luca was whooping and flinging a towel over his head, someone ordered drinks for the entire pub. But none of that mattered. All that mattered was Aelin had restored herself, had started using her magic again and now she was shining brighter than he’d ever seen her.

“I love you,” he said, breathing the words into her soul and her bones so she couldn’t ever forget it. “I love you exactly the way you are, however it may be, to whatever end.” When she pulled back to look at him, her eyes were lined with silver as she, too, whispered against his mouth:

“To whatever end.”

@starseternalnighttriumphant @musicmaam @city-of-fae @kandasboi @the-regal-warrior @empire-of-wildfire @tangledraysofsunshine  @lorcansalvaterree @hey-its-grey @sleeping-and-books @thephilosophyofblank @breezyfreezey @westofmoon @tonystarksbish @mariamuses @thereaderandfangirl @rosesandglass @xxhopelesspeachesxx  @flowerspringsea​ @the-bookloving-girl​ @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius​ @dreamcatchersimss​ @chemicha​ @vi0let-femmes​ @ttakeitbacknoww​   @bamchickawowow

AND FIN! Rowan’s painting of Aelin is heavily heavily inspired by @zoyastormwitch‘s painting of Aelin that you can see here!!! and you should go check it out because holy SHIT is it fucking stunning. i told ashley this the other day but i can see rowan’s art being a similar style to hers so that’s just how i imagine him sketching and painting. so so unique and beautiful. 

This entire fic is inspired by the song Blue Ain’t Your Color by Keith Urban.

[wide-eyedscottishlass]

Scarlett and the Professor

[continued from]

8pm sharp.  Well, at least I’m not tardy.

Without a further moment’s hesitation, Scarlett rang the bell, knowing that now there would be no turning back.  Though the sun was nearly set, the evening air was humid, as if portending a storm coming off the Caribbean after full dark.  Although Scarlett had taken a long bath before dressing, her exposed skin already felt sticky.  As if in answer to that thought, a light breeze suddenly whispered against her bare flesh, stirring the few wispy tendrils of hair that had fallen from her loose chignon.  How cooling it felt against her shoulders and arms, her back and her calves, rippling her hemline.

She had chosen a dress meant to please her lover, an Egyptian blue, rayon and silk trapeze silhouette, which loosely draped her form and fell into a high-low hemline that complimented her legs.  The color flattered her pale skin tone and dark hair, and matched the pure, bright ocean waters that surrounded this island—waters which she knew Professor Hennessy loved.  Silver and rhinestone embellishments adorned the spaghetti straps and low v-neckline, with celestial symbols of the sun and moon stitched in silver thread scattered upon the blue background.  As she donned it, Scarlett had been thinking of how she had unwittingly become the moon to his sun, locked in an unwavering orbit around him, pursuing his blazing heat, and seeming to come to fullest light only when she reflected his light.

Hyper aware of the growing night sounds around her, the nervous rasp of her own respiration, and the thundering beat of her heart, Scarlett still didn’t miss the click of the latch inside the door being released.  Warm, tawny light spilled out from behind him as Hennessy opened the door, and his classic, masculine beauty, the peerless angles and planes of his face, stole the breath from her lungs as it did each time she saw him anew.  His eyes held hers in stasis for several moments, taking her measure, raking across her form, coolly appraising her as though he saw not only right through her clothing, but down to her soul.  The first blush of the evening crept into her cheeks.

He had changed his clothes too, into a deep blue silk dress shirt, so snug across his chest that the buttons seemed to be straining not to pop off.   He had his sleeves rolled up again, and his waistcoat—in a shade lighter than his shirt—hung open.  Scarlett dared look no lower, not wishing him to catch her eyeing what lay below his belt—although she knew without needing a glance, that his bespoke trousers matched his vest, and fit him as snugly as his shirt.

Hennessy’s smile was warm and disarming, his clear blue eyes dancing with mirth.  “Well now, aren’t you the tastiest treat to grace my doorstep in about a month of Sundays!”  He backed up a little to allow her to pass, “But please do come in, Miss Scarlett--and welcome to my home.”  Though she hadn’t even tried to imagine what to expect, the place already felt to her as though it had been raised from it’s foundations to house the life force of this enigmatic, powerful, all too charming, yet dangerous, man.

Scarlett had seen some of Europe’s most opulent mansions and palaces during her gap year travels, and though Hennessy’s home paled by those standards, she was impressed enough to have to remind herself not to gawk.  The marble-floored foyer led into a two-story hall that housed a ten-foot wide, cobalt coloured, carpeted staircase, which swept upwards to an eight foot tall, stained glass window above the main landing.  A short run of stairs branched off on either side of the landing, presumably to bedrooms and bathrooms, and likely much more.  But it was the window that really grabbed her attention.

A large silver moon dominated a star strewn, indigo sky, riding above stylized waves fresh with white seafoam.  Several shades of blue-greens and blues marked the descending depths, which towards the bottom became nearly as black as true night.  A myriad of bright fish swam in the upper levels, along with several grey seals and tortoises; just beneath them dwelt jellyfish, porpoises, a few species of sharks, and a pod of orcas.  In the darker regions below cruised manta rays and bright red octopi and freakishly long eels.  Lurking the bottom was an ominous black sea serpent, outlined in the same silver that coloured the moon, so as to be visible.  It’s eyes were large and cat-like—and possessed the monster’s only other color besides black and silver.  Blue.  A bright blue that felt impossible to belong to such a menacing creature.  Why, even it’s deadly fangs and claws were silver.

Scarlett shivered at the sight, as though a goose had walked over her grave.  For several heartbeats she was overcome with deja vu—for it put her in mind of her nightmares of unseen, but too oft-dreamt, foul beasties populating the Deep, laying in wait to steal her away if she ever tread too far from shore.  Those terrors of her youth, which had only fully disappeared when she had tarried on the shores of the Aegean Sea during her Greek holiday.  And had just recently returned to plague her briefly throughout those weeks that Hennessy had left her languishing for his attention.  Still unaware that it was her ancient Selkie blood raising the alarm, she turned away—vowing that if…or when…she had cause to mount those stairs, she would avert her eyes from the troubling portion of the image, and focus solely on the moon and waves, the fish and sleek grey seals.

Hennessy looked back over his shoulder to make sure she hadn’t fallen behind, casually asking her, “Have you eaten?”

“Um…yes,” she replied quietly, not adding that she’d barely had an appetite in nervous anticipation of their evening together, “I assumed you didn’t invite me here for dinner…”

“That I did not,” he chuckled, stopping just outside a wide, open doorway to the left of the sprawling staircase, “But I think we could both use a bit of refreshment before the evening’s revelries begin.” He sketched a little bow, his handsome face become mischief personified, and motioned for Scarlett to proceed him into the room.

From the preponderance of leather and wood, she guessed this was his study.  The room had a decidedly masculine air about it, with dark wood paneling all around and full bookcases lining two walls.  With a quick glance, Scarlett noted a book of poetry by Dylan Thomas (which she would later discover was a first edition), well-weathered editions by Samuel Beckett and William Blake, and even a collection of works by her beloved Pablo Neruda.  That was a surprise: she never would have imagined Hennessy reading any sort of romantic poetry, let alone the works that she knew populated that title.  It certainly didn’t fit the image he presented to the world, let alone in the private moments they had shared thus far.

The wonderful smell of old, cherished books dominated the air and hints of cigar smoke lingered in the room.  Scarlett also detected traces of Hennessy’s cologne underlying it all.  A scent with notes of bright, clean citrus, mixed with amber and something that reminded her of an old cedarwood cabinet in her cottage back home, all tinged with a  salty tang. Taken altogether, scents that evoked sure thoughts of the sea.  Fittingly, a painting above the fireplace reinforced the aquatic feel---it depicted a ship with tattered sails wrecked upon a harsh outcropping of rocks, set against a backdrop of rough whitecaps and forked lightening.  Several sirens, creatures out of myths and sea dreams, beckoned with outstretched arms to the unlucky sailors, trapping the unfortunate men between the treacherous waters and the beautiful peril of supernatural beings seeking to wreck their immortal souls.

Other smaller paintings hung throughout the room, all celebrating various aspects of the sea, including one that would easily become Scarlett’s favorite: silvery moonlight adorning the ripples and waves that washed up onto a white sand beach—which put her in mind of the warm, lovely waters of the Aegean, when she’d vacationed in Mykonos a few years ago.

A bar cart sat beside a leather divan adjacent to one of the bookcases, topped with cut crystal old fashioned glasses, a gleaming, sterling silver ice bucket, and a sealed bottle of Glenlivet 18 YO. Hennessy dropped several ice cubes into one of the rocks glasses, then cracked open the bottle of fine, Scottish-distilled whiskey, pouring first onto the rocks, and then straight up into a second glass.  He turned to Scarlett, holding out the iced drink to her, “Care for a taste of home?

She stepped forward and silently took his offering, giving a small start at the brush of his cool fingertips against her skin at the transfer.  A sudden rush of anticipation—and damned desire—bolted through her, betraying her resolve to appear aloof to his wicked charms for as long as she could manage. And of course he noticed, the Man never missed a trick; her quick intake of breath, the dilation of her pupils, enough to give her away.

Hennessy greeted her response with a satisfied half-smile and a knowing lift of his brow, clearly pleased with her quiet but visceral reaction.  “It’s meant to take the edge of, darlin’…to help you relax a bit,” he winked, raising his glass, “Slainte mhath.”  He took a long swallow, while never taking his eyes off her.

She hesitated in meeting the familiar toast, instead swirling the ice a bit, so that notes of rich cream and caramelized vanilla wafted up from the heady ramber fluid, while she wondered if there might have been something in the bottom of the glass, or even in the ice itself, before he’d poured the whiskey in.  Closely considering if Hennessy would actually sink that low.

“Oh, Scarlett…my dear girl,” he t’sked, practically reading her mind, “Do you honestly think I’d want to dose you?”  He feigned a look of hurt that soon melted into an indulgent smile, “We both know why you’re here tonight, and I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of fully experiencing the…festivities…”  he bit his lower lip, daring her to answer.

“No,” she replied, almost to herself, letting her small overnight bag slip the floor, “No, I suppose you wouldn’t.”  And then, wanting to prove herself up to whatever he had planned for them in the hours ahead, Scarlett lifted her glass and thickened her brogue for maximum effect, “Gu gaothan arda agus maighdeannan-mara!” fearlessly throwing back the full portion of whiskey he had given her.  Unaccustomed to hard liquor, she had to give a little shake of her head to keep from gagging as the bite hit the back of her throat---but soon enough, she felt the velvet burn go down, and even better, the liquid courage radiating out from the pit of her stomach to even the tips of her fingers and toes.

Her boldness appeared to please him, which left Scarlett pleased as well---until she gave a wee, ladylike burp.  He did a double take as she quietly excused herself, before he laughed heartily.  “Good god, Scarlett, but you never fail to entertain!”  To that, she could only shrug sheepishly, then give him a sweet, honest smile.

Hennessy downed the remainder of his own drink and set his glass down on the bar, before drawing his closest to her yet, so that she had to look up to maintain eye contact.  Unconsciously, she parted her lips, readying herself for his kiss, but that was not his intention.  Instead, he retrieved her tumbler and reached for her overnight bag, taking it to deposit on the divan, before he moved to refill both their glasses.  Scarlett started to decline when he held it out to her, but he shook his head.  “Take it, my dear,” he insisted, sounding kindly, but clearly expecting her to come to him at once, “’Twould be a cardinal sin to waste such good whiskey.”

Close up this way, his magnetism took over, reminding Scarlett there was very little chance she could withstand anything he would ask of her this night.  She sipped at her whiskey, allowing herself to enjoy its woody-spiced flavor and slight taste of vanilla, it’s mounting warmth spreading relaxation through her veins.  Hennessy was watching her keenly, biding his time as he polished off his portion.

When satisfied she had drunk enough, he put both their glasses aside, and turned to her with a soft smile, the request that followed completely unexpected.  “Scarlett, would you take down your hair for me?”  She blinked several times in surprise, so that he added gently, “Please, my dear.  You don’t wear it down nearly enough.”

“As...as you wish...Professor.”  His gaze felt like a slow, painless dissection, as though he was reckoning even her most secret details, thoughts, and desires.  Scarlett inclined her head a bit, and pulled out the silver comb that secured her updo, along with several bobby pins, then shook her hair loose, fluffing the length out with her free hand.  

She looked back up when Hennessy drew a whistling breath, to find he’d closed what little space had been left between them.  “There you go, my good little lamb.  Pretty as a picture.”  He took her hand between his two, relieving her of the comb and pins, softly stroking the back of her hand with the fingertips of his free hand, then sliding them up to her elbow in a slow, deliberate tease.  She closed her eyes, knowing that the seduction had truly begun.

Hennessy deposited her ornaments in his pocket, another trophy in his conquest, and with his hand still on her elbow, drew Scarlett to him.  She raised her face, waiting for his kiss---though he delayed, threading the fingers of his other hand through her hair, then tracing the shell of her ear.  Just kiss me, dammit, her mind cried out, kiss me please!  She parted her lips once more, in anticipation.

“Prettier than any picture that I’ve seen in a very...long...time,” he murmured, then finally laid his lips on hers.

Of all the kisses he had yet bestowed upon her, this was the most patient.  The most thorough too, for he knew he had all the time in the world.  Scarlett’s instinct insisted that this was as much for his own sake as for hers---for though he certainly knew what this evening meant to her, and that what lovers she took for the rest of her life would ever be compared to him, he was actually about the entire experience, and not just the consummation that had been her promise to him from before they had shared a single touch.  Hennessy savored her lips patiently, precisely because he knew she was already his---and surely because he had nothing to prove or anything further to gain.

When they broke the first time to catch a gasp of air, he leaned his forehead against hers, breathing just as hard as she was.  It felt like forever to her as she waited for him to begin again, yet before he did, he cleared his throat, asking huskily, “Before we truly commence, little lamb, satisfy my curiosity please…”

“Anything,” she whispered.  Anything for you, dearest man.

He puffed against her lips, amused, “Just what in God’s good English did you mean by that toast you made?”

Scarlett couldn’t help but smile, marveling that for once she had stumped him.  “Man of the world…Master of all you survey…surely you can guess…”

“I haven’t a clue, Scarlett,” he practically growled, “And I’ll have all your secrets this night, one way or another.”

Of course you will, she thought, and brushed her lips to his, delivering the translation.  “To high winds…and mermaids! Like a blessing—for an auspicious new endeavor.”  

She felt the smile that graced his fulsome lips, as he told her, “My oh my…you are a true wonder, Scarlett.”  Then he silenced any reply she might give by searing his mouth to hers.                        🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

Now these were, by far, the most alluring, the most delicious, most prized kisses of her young life, and Scarlett gave way most willingly, moment by moment, feeling as though Hennessy was slowly consuming her.  He held her face in his hands when they started, and she had pressed hers to his chest, dependent on his strength to keep her knees from buckling.  She panted for air when he withdrew his lips, and then heard the small, hungry sounds she made when he dipped his tongue back into her willing mouth.

When he noticed that one of her straps had slipped off her shoulder, his kissed his way down her throat and onto her bare skin.  Scarlett hadn’t bothered to try and conceal the love bruises he’d given her that afternoon—she had only worn a lightweight scarf to cover them while in the taxi that had brought her here—and now Hennessy softly revisited those marks, as though in deference to their tenderness.

That was exactly the sort of thing that always set her off kilter.  Scarlett was already well acquainted with how lustfully he pursued fulfillment of his appetites.  And she’d discovered that such reckless, heedless behaviors made her want him all the more.  Hennessy’s wicked proclivities were legion, ever waiting to surge up from his depths, and though she knew he had only shown her a fraction of those tendencies, what she had experienced thus far made her want to play his wanton.  But when he was gentle, solicitous of her needs, mindful of her inexperience, it was her heart that became more deeply entangled in the spell her body had all but fully succumbed to.  Scarlett had fallen hard, imperiling her tender heart beyond anything that Hennessy might visit upon her young, oh-so-willing body.  Or so she still believed.

There was no resisting his pull upon her, nor the confidence and skill of his elegant hands as they slid across the fabric of her dress, cupping her breasts and later her bottom with the fervor that had her wishing he would just strip her bare already. Pressed tightly to him, Scarlett could feel his erection growing more swollen and was imagining what it would feel like to have him finally buried deep inside her.

Hennessy was kissing her throat, occasionally grazing her skin with his teeth, each time a surprise enough to make her gasp.  With the latest, he brought his mouth to her ear, issuing a smooth command, “Come sit with me, little lamb.”  Not giving her a moment to consider disobeying, he dragged her along to one of the leather wingback chairs that sat before the unlit hearth.  “I’ve fancied sitting you on my lap for some time now, Scarlett,” he told her, and pulled her down onto him with enough force to elicit a breathy, surprised giggle from her.  “Does this amuse you, my dear?”

She shrugged, bit her lip, and then averted her eyes coyly, “Oh, Professor...everything you do...is...is like nothing I’ve experienced before.”  His silence bade her continue, so that she turned her widened eyes back his way, “You astonish me...again and again.  And sometimes...sometimes you frighten me.”  Scarlett felt her color rise once more, but would not flinch from her confession.  “But most of all, you fascinate me, Sir...and make me want to drown in your desires.”  She breathed out slowly, hanging upon his response.

He studied her closely, searching her truth--and finding not a speck of artifice in her admission, nodded, “You understand, sweet lambkin, that there is danger as much in my undertow as in my deep waters?”  Scarlett nodded solemnly.  “And that your innocence is no protection against this?”

“Oh yes,” she sighed, her skin atingle where he had spread one hand between her shoulder blades.  “I’ve spent my life shirking risk and danger at every turn--but I want yours now more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.”  With that she leaned in to kiss him, sealing her lips to his as fearlessly as she sealed her fate...

(to be continued)

tagging: @strangelock221b @letterstosherlock @ben-c-group-therapy @tsukuyomi011 @ravencatart @emilyinnj4real @humanbornarchangel @aziracraw @aeterna-auroral-avenger @adragonscloset @naughtynecromancer  and @cinderella1181 so you can see a sample of what I’ve been working on lately 

[flannelplanet]

so, that new Seb stuff, it gives me 80s/90s, your best friends' hot single dad who "casually" poses on the furniture whenever you're over, idk if thats just me, but that video gave it more of a story than the photo's on their own

OH OH OH I CAN SEE IT. 

Warnings: This can be read as either Seb or Bucky, or any Seb character, probably. Be warned of some potentially triggering content. Reader is college-aged and above the age of consent and Seb/Bucky/whoever is a young, single father. Age difference, obviously.This is pure fucking filth. NSFW, 18+ please. 

You’re coming home with your roommate from college. You’ll spend a week with her and her dad before the two of you will head to visit with your own family for a week, then go back to campus.

You know she lives with her dad. Her mom left when she was little and hasn’t kept in touch. 

Her dad moved to America from Eastern Europe at a young age, so his speech is ever so slightly accented. 

Whatever expectations you have of meeting him are completely blown away when you finally lay eyes on the man himself.

He looks like sex on legs. He’s sin personified. Walks with an air of cockiness. Eyes dark and hold promise in their depths.

He gives “daddy” a whole new meaning.

You try to be good, you really fucking do. But you keep imagining what it would be like to be on your knees for him, mouth holding him, keeping him warm. 

You imagine his long, dexterous fingers finding their way to your hair, pulling lightly, tugging you this way and that. 

You imagine what it would be like to be pinned underneath his perfectly strong body, held there tightly by your wrists while he takes what he wants from you while whispering “good girl,” over and over until you’re both shaking.

You imagine and imagine and imagine different scenarios all week long. You’re pent up and you can hardly walk with how aroused you are and no amount of getting yourself off quenches this undeniable thirst for him. 

You head downstairs to get a glass of water.

You’re wearing panties and a camisole, thinking nothing of it. Your skin is too hot to be covered anyway, and you’ve got a post-orgasmic glow from bringing yourself off with your fingers for the 40th fucking time this week.

There’s a soft glow coming from the kitchen. You expect it’s a light that maybe they leave on all the time so you don’t think twice about it. Opening the fridge, you grab a bottle of water, open and chug from it.

“You shouldn’t stand there with the door open. You’re letting all the cold out.”

His voice is dark and deep, like he hasn’t spoken to anyone in hours and it goes straight to your core. You feel yourself throb.

“Oh I’m sorry, Sir,” you say, nipples hardening under your camisole from both the cold and from the tone of his voice.

“Hmm. I like the sound of Sir coming from your mouth…”

You had to be imaging it, he couldn’t… could he?

“You think I haven’t noticed? You stare even when you don’t mean to, sweetheart. You want me, don’t you?”

You can’t find the words, so you just nod.

“What was that?” he asks you and your skin breaks out in gooseflesh at the tone his words take, the commanding presence of him as he stands. 

“Yes, sir. I do want you, sir.”

He flashes you a predatory grin as he walks towards you. He steps up real close and bends down to whisper in your ear, lips just grazing the shell of your ear. “Good girl.”

You could’ve came right on the spot.

“Gotta be quiet, sweetheart. My daughter’s right upstairs and you wouldn’t want her to hear, would you?”

“No, sir.”

Again he praises you. “Good girl,” he says as he pets the smooth skin of your shoulders down your arms, sliding the straps of your camisole down as he moves. 

You whimper, unable to hold it back. You hear him tsk you under his breath but he continues teasing your skin until the tops of your breasts are exposed. “You look good enough to eat, sweetheart. Can I have a taste?”

You press your lips between your teeth to try to keep the sounds in as you nod, watching him lean forward and press wet, warm kisses all over your chest. 

He tugs your cami down a little farther exposing your breasts completely and latches on to a nipple, uses his fingers to play with the other. “Goddamn delicious is what you are. C’mon, pretty little thing. I wanna taste you properly.”

He takes you to his bedroom. A king sized bed sits in the center of the room. He unceremoniously drops you on it and has your panties off in an instant, his face buried in your folds as your fingers grip his short locks and you hold on as best you can. His tongue is running over your already aroused, dripping core and you’re barely able to stop yourself from yelling out. 

He slips a finger inside you, then two, still licking and sucking at your clit. It’s the third finger that does it, when he crooks them inside you and rubs back and forth. You feel it start at the base of your spine and you try to warn him. He moves his face out of the way and puts his other hand on you and rubs your clit back and forth relentlessly until you’re gushing around him, his sheets soaked from your climax.

“Did I say you could come?” 

oh shit oh fuck fuck shit fuck fuck

“No, sir. You didn’t.”

“No, sweetheart. You came without permission, but you looked fucking incredible doing it. I’ll let it slide, this time, but next time... Do. Not. Come. Without. Permission. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” 

He strips for you, fast and efficient. Strokes himself and loves how wide your eyes get when you see the size of him. 

“Like what you see, sweetheart? Can’t wait to get it all inside you...”

“Please, sir, please.”

“Gonna fill you up so good. Gonna let you choke on it then I’m gonna fuck you with it so good you’ll have a hard time forgetting what it felt like.”

He tugs you forward and holds himself at the base as he guides your mouth over his length. “Open your throat and relax,” he tells you and you do your best but you still feel tears well in your eyes as you feel the thick head of him hit the back of your throat and then go farther, pushing past the barrier there. 

You concentrate on breathing, focus on keeping your throat open for him, as open as you can. When he pulls back for a moment you breathe deep while you can and he pushes back in. He gets you choking on him, spit everywhere.

“You look so pretty with my cock down your throat, sweetheart.”

When he’s had enough of that, he has you lay on your back in the center of his bed. He grabs one of your legs and holds it over his shoulder as he lines up and pushes in, as far as he can as fast as he can. 

Once seated fully inside, he gives you a few breaths to adjust before he’s pulling out and shoving back in, the intensity of his thrusts taking your breath away. It doesn’t take long before you’re begging to come. 

“No,” he says, as if it’s the simplest answer in the world.

“Please, sir. I need it so bad, you feel so good,” you’re babbling and you can’t hold it back, not with how close you are.

“I said no,” he says, smacking the inside of your thigh. 

You jump and let out a soft groan, unable to hold it back anymore.

“You’ll come when I come. I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.”

“Yes, sir.”

He keeps fucking you. And fucking you. And fucking you.

When he gets close, you feel him move faster, see his face tighten as he concentrates. He’s right there, you know it. “Please, sir. Please let me have it.”

What you were asking for you didn’t even know. Did you want his orgasm or your own?

“Alright, sweet girl. You’ve done so well for me. You can come.”

You feel your release hit you on his command, his own orgasm following yours almost immediately

He lets you sleep in his bed. 

You wake early and sneak to your own room, not wanting to alert your roommate of the previous night’s activities. 

When you and her get ready to leave, he gives you a wicked smile as her back is turned. 

When you get to the car, you grab your phone and see that a new number has messaged you.

It’s him. He must’ve had your number from the start of the semester from your roommate. 

You flush from head to toe when you see his message. 

“Be good” is all it says. 

a/n: well that got out of hand. am i sorry though? no, not really. 

tags: @akamaiden, @buckysbrat, @im-finallly-clean, @sweetpca, @ringpop-poppy, @murder-daddy-bucky, @starfisharchives, @time-travel-bouqet, @the-wayward-robot, @teamcap4bucky, @onehotgreasymechanic, @captainrogerrsbeard, @mscaptainjones, @winchesterswantmypie, @freshwoods, @cmorgana, @ladywintersoldat, @thosekidswhohuntmonsters and idk who else to tag?

[iamrheaspeaks]

High Heels

Erik x OC! (Thea)

Bold Italics: Inner dialogue

Word Count: ~1835

Warnings: None

Listening suggestions: “High Heels” by JoJo

A/N: This is my first time writing Erik and I have my reservations but this story was stuck in my head after listening to this song so I finally decided to just get it out. Lightly proofread/ edited. Enjoy💋

Part 2 Part 3

Without me boy you’ll always feel alone. Those words reverberated off the walls of Erik’s mind. Out of all the things he’d rather be doing tonight replaying the image of her leaving on a constant loop inside the confines of his broken psyche didn’t even make the damn list. Erik usually thought Thea was fucking sexy ass hell when she was angry but right now, right now he was trying not to match her level of RED.

“You really gonna be one of those dumb niggas? Not knowin’ what you got ‘til it leave and never come back?” Thea spat, the words racing off her tongue. At this point it was taking everything to keep the rage from fully consuming her and unleashing the beast pounding the cage keeping her heart within her chest. She wanted to lash out. To scream. To close the distance between them and get in his face. She wanted to, but Thea was smart and she knew closing the distance between them would do nothing but give Erik the upper hand, fuck that! Getting dicked down into submission was not on the menu. The radiating heat between them, her clinched fists serving as anchors weighing her arms down by her sides, the dead stare in her eyes was worse than daggers. All being more than enough of an indicator that she been pushed past her boiling point. Thea’s hard expression fading momentarily as she cracked a tiny smile chuckling before licking her bottom lip, “And to think…I thought you was smart.”

“Man, whatever Thea I ain’t fightin’ witcho ass. Next time don’t go through my phone. You won’t have to worry bout those bitches,” he barked back as his feet thud on the glass top of the black and gold coffee table, causing the coasters to slightly knock against each other in their holder. Hands clamped together in his lap trying to control his rising frustration with her tone. “Matter fact, give me my phone before you find something else to bitch in my ear about.” Had Erik been facing Thea he’d have seen that slight flicker that happened behind her eyes before they blew wide open with realization. Had Erik known that those words were the final nail in the coffin of their “relationship” maybe he’d of chosen them better. Thea’s rebuttal was silence. She simply walked towards where Erik was seated and placed his phone facedown on the table near his feet gently. She turned her head to see he was donning his signature smirk, the gold in his mouth outwardly reflecting how pleased he was with this supposed win. Thea retreated into their bedroom, door locking behind her. Erik left the apartment, that door slamming behind him. Thea shook her head “Erik…you’re such a dumbass”, sending her girls a group text.

I’m done! There’s nothing to fix here. Impromptu Garden Party girls! 👌🏾

 Hours later Erik returned none the wiser of what was about to transpire. Thea called out from the kitchen, “Hey. Have a seat and I’ll fix you a drink”. Obliging her request Erik glanced into the kitchen on his journey to the couch. She had changed. Black dress with red accents all the way down to her stilettos. Recalling a conversation about a friend’s birthday coming up he thought nothing more of it.

A part of Thea was still shocked at the fact that she wasn’t as nervous or on edge about setting things into motion, but enough was enough. All right! It’s now or never. That’s all the self-pep she needed. Holding two glasses from the base in one hand and carrying a new bottle of Henny by the neck in the other. Thea sat down taking her spot next to Erik, body turned towards him causing her knee to graze his.

“So you done trippin ma?” Erik inquired sliding his phone into his pocket still slightly suspicious of her changed demeanor.

“Mmhmm” she replied glancing in his direction before returning to pouring them both a drink.

Noticing what she was filling both glasses with, “You drinking Henny!? Oh shit! I thought you hated it!” Erik teased, dimples on full display.

“I do. But tonight’s a special occasion baby” Thea smiled at Erik as she handed him one glass while twirling hers in the other before raising it to her lips taking a swig.

“And what might that be princess?” he asked wrapping his arm around her waist, trying to get her to confirm his assumption without actually asking.

Thea stared at Erik for a moment before smiling, simultaneously bringing her free hand to the bottom of Erik’s glass lifting it up towards his mouth, “Just drink with me” she cooed. Thea finished the brown liquor wincing at the burn momentarily, then placed her glass down and wiped the back of her wrist across her mouth to get the taste off her lips. Turning into Erik’s grasp, arm still latched to her she crashed her lips into his without warning. Erik’s taken by surprise but quickly recovered, stretching his arm in the direction of the table to disregard his drink. His full lips never leaving hers, loving the feeling. With his drink long forgotten next to her empty glass Erik went to match her intensity, his teeth sweetly tugging at Thea’s bottom lip until she allowed his tongue entrance. His other hand trailing up her side until his grip stilled at the back of her neck. Their tongues danced in unison causing Thea to let out a small whimper into the kiss. The sparked intensity between the two of them would be the thing she missed the most. His strong grip and mirrored emotion in this moment almost making her regret the dark cloud that hung over this otherwise perfect moment. Almost.

Erik’s hands growing restless once more with the same eagerness of a child wanting to explore their surroundings for the first time. Touching every part of her he could just like he has a million times before. Bliss filled moments pass before Thea grabbed Erik by both wrists. Removing his hands and holding them down on his knee closest to her, standing up before breaking the kiss. Thea walked around the back of the couch before leaning next to Erik’s ear just hovering there for an insignificant amount of time while scratching that spot at the base of his skull lovingly. His loose dreads swishing against her knuckles as her fingers danced beneath them, before abruptly ceasing contact. “Without me boy you’ll always feel alone”. It was barely audible even with their close proximity but her voice never faltered. Thea never meant to actually breathe the words aloud but the seed had been sown.

The cold crept in once her hand dropped and her frame faded out of his personal space. When the haze snapped and Erik realized what was going on he stood turning towards her direction in just enough time to see her place down her key and step out the door. Looking into her eyes for the last time as she shed a single tear. Rolling her lips mouthing a silent goodbye and closing the door before disappearing from his life. Thea had left Erik with nothing but loneliness and silence to fill the growing void. As much as he wanted to yell or scream or run after Thea and beg until she changed her mind… He had seen the finality in her eyes in that last moment. There was no changing her mind. Fuck! Erik internally screamed as he reclaimed his seat picking his drink back up. Sitting with Thea’s words swirling around his head as he tried to commit everything about her to memory…

 Time Jump:

“And here I thought it was gonna be like pulling teeth to get you to finally come back here” Shay giggled in delight.

“You’re lucky you have good timing. Had you waited another month I wouldn’t of been able to fly out until after my little one vacated the premises” Thea joked while rubbing her belly with one hand and squeezing her husband Malachi’s knee with the other.

“Not like it matters. I would’ve just­––” Shay stopped just as suddenly as she started, eyes stuck on something behind them.

“What were you about to say Shay the Spaz?” Thea chuckled at Shay’s sudden loss of words and then­­ it happened. That voice, coating her body and sticking to her frame like honey. Causing Thea to still in attempt the hide the shudder her body was trying to release. The increase in her heart rate causing the baby to kick rapidly in response, “Hello Princess”.

Twisting in her seat while simultaneously removing her hand from Malachi’s knee to place a strong grip on his shoulder non verbally pleading he stay seated, before her sight fell upon Erik. No gold’s today but his smile was just as bright. Erik was made up in a black suit with white and gold ascents and his dreads had gotten noticeably longer. “Long time no see. I thought that was you I saw when I walked in”. He chuckled while instinctively rubbing the base of his head with his hand, calming the sudden tingle he felt there when they made eye contact.

Shay broke the silence amongst them, “Um…hello? What do you want Erik?”. This gained a hushed yeah from Malachi and he tried to not get defensive. Rolling his eyes at both Shay and Malachi’s antics Erik goes to speak but is cut off by Thea’s voice.

“Would you two mind giving us a moment?” looking her husband in the eyes before continuing, “Just wait for me right outside, yeah?” she smiled encouraging their departure and calming the rising tension. Erik took Shay’s seat directly across from Thea, taking all of her in. Something he couldn’t believe he got the chance to do again. Skin free of makeup, glowing radiance, beauty personified. But her smile trying to hide the obvious pain in her gaze. Both of them went to break the silence at the same time but her voice rang out first, “I­­–I’m sorry Erik”. Seeing the hint of confusion in his face Thea dredged on. “For what I said when I left. That was vial of me, especially knowing about everything you went through”.

“Nah…I didn’t come over here so you could be the one apologizin’ for shit,” Erik rebutted. But not giving him the chance to drone on further, Thea shifted in the seat so she could reach over the table without pressing her belly into it. Taking Erik’s jaw into her palm stroking his cheek to ease his brewing fury and calm his mind of all the things he was trying to get out at once. Erik melted into her touch. Something’s really never changed.

“I love you Erik” her voice a wisp in the thick air around them, “A piece of me will always be yours. That’s why I’m glad we were fated this opportunity so I can right this one wrong. And now I have”, Thea proclaimed through hot tears before once again breaking contact, lightly planting a kiss on his check where her hand had been, making her departure. Erik’s eyes glued to the condensation rolling off an untouched water glass on the table as he tried to contain his own tears.

“I love you Thea”.

 Tags: @cancerianprincess @savagesensitivity @another-imaginesblog @loosewindmill @bidibidibombaclaat