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kaleidohscopic · 1 year ago

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SWEET — BBH

PAIRING: baekhyun x female reader SUMMARY: it's one thing to run into the guy you maybe, used to have a little bit of a thing for at your mutual friends' birthday party. it's another thing to find out he maybe, used to have a little bit of a thing for you too. GENRE: friends (ish) to lovers! au, romance, a hint of smut, some pining if you squint WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol consumption, jenkai (humour me), wayyyy too much sexual tension, it gets a little hot and heavy towards the end but nothing super explicit (bc idk how to write that stuff sorry!), general mature content and themes WORD COUNT: 4.4k NOTE: super self-indulgent w barely any plot or characterisation (basically four thousand something words of foreplay lol), i saw that video of baek at one of the lonsdaleite stops unbuttoning his shirt and it drove me a little loopy ngl...

The last time you had seen Byun Baekhyun was two years ago.

Graduation. Gowns. Bouquets. There was probably a photo of the two of you, along with the rest of your cohort, sitting around somewhere in the depths of your camera roll, fresh-faced and eager to take on the exciting new world outside of 3000-word essays and 9 am tutorials. Four years taking variations of the same courses and bitching about the same tutors meant you were far from strangers, but sadly, the friendship had dwindled once you’d left the classrooms for good — something you had been just a little gutted about. These days, his appearances in your life were rare, save for the times he’d come up in conversation with the friends you both shared back in the day, or his sporadic likes on your instagram posts.

Except now, of course, as you watched him climb up the stairs to the rooftop bar, gift bag in one hand and suit jacket in the other.

“Happy birthday!” he beamed, enveloping your best friend in a hug. The fabric of his shirt strained against the movement of his arms, and you caught a whiff of his delicious woody cologne as he approached.

You had known there’d be a possibility he’d show up today. This year, Jennie had made the enlightened decision to throw a joint celebration with her boyfriend, and obviously that entailed inviting all of his friends — which honestly, wasn’t even that many extra heads since Jongin only ever spoke to the same eight people. You’d seen Baekhyun’s name on the guest list that you had helped her put together, and seen it again listed under the ‘going’ tab of the event, but having the real deal in front of you was another experience entirely.

Crisp white button down with the sleeves rolled up, fitted slacks, and just a glimpse of his toned chest peeking out from where the top few of his shirt buttons were undone.

He looked fucking good.

Even better than he did two years ago.

Jennie squeezed him back with just as much fervour. “So glad you could make it! Jongin’s been stuck to my side all night with no one to talk to, he’s going to be so happy you’re here.”

He pulled back with a chuckle, and it was then that he finally laid eyes on you, seated next to the birthday girl, holding matching martinis, and doing your best not to look like you had been shamelessly checking him out for the entire 45 seconds since he had arrived. His eyes widened slightly with recognition as your name left his mouth.

“You haven’t forgotten each other, right?” Jennie laughed. The descent of his eyes down the length of you was quick, but not careless, and heat flared in your body all the same. When his gaze returned back to your face, the beginnings of an appreciative smile were shaping the curve of his mouth.

“Not yet, I hope,” he answered her, but his eyes were still on you. “Nice seeing you again. You look good.”

“So do you, Baekhyun,” you replied, because it was the truth. His smile only grew.

Jennie tipped back the rest of her martini and bade the both of you a hasty farewell, saying something about fixing up the photo zone as she hurried towards the other end of the rooftop. A few of the girls, too excited about the open bar, had knocked the cushions onto the ground, and were doing a poor job of rearranging them back on the wooden swing.

He slid into her now-vacant seat, elbows resting on the bar counter, giving you an excellent view of the shape of his forearms and the veins that adorned it.

“You’re not going to have that?” he asked, nodding at the sad little olive that sat all alone at the bottom of your empty glass.

“Not a fan of the saltiness,” you answered, and offered it to him. You watched as he plucked the garnish stick out of your fingers and put the olive in his mouth with no hesitation, eyes lingering a little too long on the movement of his throat as he swallowed it. “I like sweet things better.”

“Yeah, I remember,” he chuckled. “You used to only ever drink vodka cranberries.”

Suddenly, you were twenty-one again, peering through the cafe window and getting a little too giddy at the thought of meeting up outside of the stuffy tutorial classroom to work on the project you had both been assigned to. You’d be lying through your teeth if you said that a crush on Baekhyun was something you never entertained throughout your four years of university together. And maybe it had been reciprocated, for the briefest of times, just after that joint presentation on data structures, where the thought of stepping over from friendly more-than-acquaintances into something more had crossed your mind enough times for you to lose count. There had been something there, or at the very least a hint of something, in the nights spent crammed into a tiny library booth meant only for one person, poring over stale and tedious papers on algorithm organisations in each other’s company.

But nothing had happened. He hadn’t made a move, and neither had you, laden with the fear of rejection that was so indicative of youth. And maybe that had been a huge misplay on your part, because a few weeks after wrapping up the project that had brought you together, he was at your faculty’s monthly pub crawl, introducing you to his new girlfriend, who had actually asked him out just the day before.

Safe to say that had been the end of that. You were not the type to homewreck.

“How long has it been? I feel like I haven’t seen you since — god, it must have been graduation?”

“Something like that,” you replied through a smile. “I still have the photos on my phone.”

“So do I,” he said, flashing you a boyish grin. Then, as if doubting the accuracy of his own words, he promptly pulled out his phone and began scrolling towards the top, brows furrowed with determination. It was a few seconds later that he found what he was looking for, turning the screen towards you with a triumphant noise.

The picture had been taken outside the ceremony hall, set against the familiar sea of graduation gowns, but that was the only familiar thing about it. In the foreground stood just you and Baekhyun, not stiffly posing for the camera as you had been in all of the group shots that existed on your phone, but turned towards each other, faces bursting with elated smiles. Neither of you looked to be aware that there was even a camera on you. The you in the photo had your mouth half open in the tell-tale way it always did when you were about to laugh at the ridiculously corny jokes he loved to crack. His eyes were crinkled at the corners, partially from the glare of the sun overhead — the weather had been phenomenal for the usual gloominess of May — and partially in delight at your reaction, having cracked said joke.

“I’ve never seen this one before. Did you forget to Airdrop this to me on the day?” you asked, a joking accusation colouring your voice.

“My mum only sent it to me a whole month later. I didn’t even know she had taken these,” he said, zooming in to better see the expressions on your upturned faces. “We look so happy here,” he added, voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

“And young,” you agreed, but not without a sigh. The you of two years ago had yet to know the pains of having seven different bills to pay every month, and watching the money trickle out of your bank account like water from a leaking tap.

He gave you a gentle, teasing nudge with his elbow. “We’re not that old now. We could definitely still pass as twenty somethings.”

“That’s probably because we are still actually twenty somethings,” you countered with a laugh.

There was an unprecedented ease with which you fell into conversation with Baekhyun. Despite the considerable gap of silence between now and the last time you had seen him, there was nothing in his demeanour or your own that indicated just how much time had passed. It was rather comforting to see a face from your university days, and even better that that face was still as gorgeous as ever.

You watched as he flicked through a few more photos from the day, mostly of him and his friends from university — one of whom was the other main event of tonight — until he landed on a picture of him with his girlfriend. You recognised the photo, seeing as you had been the one who offered to take it. He had an arm around her waist while she carried a huge bouquet with a teddy bear sitting atop the arrangement.

“Didn’t I help you order that thing?” you asked, pointing to the flowers in her hand. He hummed in agreement, but didn’t say much else, scrolling through to the next photos with his parents, which had also been taken by you. They stood on either side of him, beaming with pride, and then there were a few after that with his girlfriend as well, the four of them all standing together and looking picture-perfect.

Perhaps the you of today would have chosen differently, found the balls to ask him out first — because what was the use in sitting and waiting around for the guy to make the first move? — and maybe you’d be the one in the photo instead, smiling up at the camera, an integral part of the family portrait. Maybe he’d be running his fingers across the inner curve of your wrist, instead of along the rim of the gin and tonic he had just ordered.

“She couldn’t make it today? Or was she not invited?” you asked, having not seen anyone walk in behind him. Although you hadn’t been paying much attention to anything else since he arrived, and if she had been here, you doubted she’d be all too pleased with how close your heads were, even if he was just showing you through his camera roll. With that in mind, you drew back slightly, just enough to catch the expression on his face twisted with an odd sort of surprise.

After a second or so, it melted into an easy-going grin.

“We broke up a while ago. A month or two after graduation, actually.”

Oh.

You and your big mouth.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know — I shouldn’t have —”

“Don’t be, it’s fine,” he reassured, waving off your clumsy apologies. “Things just didn’t work out and we weren’t right for each other. It was a pretty amicable break, all things considered. But now, I get to sleep however I want in my own bed, so I really can’t complain,” he added, fishing another laugh out of you.

“Nothing beats starfishing in your sleep after a long day,” you hummed in agreement. Wednesday nights in your bedroom after a full day of client meetings could attest to that.

Baekhyun took a slow sip, pulling the drink into his mouth with a contemplative carefulness, and weighed up his words before he spoke again.

“What about you? Still with Jinyoung?” he asked, tone light and regarding you with curious eyes. Without meaning to, you let out a groan, and his left eyebrow quirked with interest.

“Don’t even go there,” you half-grimaced, reminded of the fling you had towards the end of fourth year with the business major. He was pretty, and had been nice enough, but by the fifth time he blew off spending time with you so that he could track the world stock indexes, it had become pretty clear that the two of you were on different paths in life. The sex was okay, but it had not been enough to warrant any more than a few late night rendezvous. For all you knew, he was probably now a very successful investment banker with 90 hour work weeks and making a shit-load of money you could only dream about having.

You sighed, drumming your fingers against the counter. “Let’s just say, he was more interested in looking at his dividend yields than he was in me.”

Baekhyun’s gaze flickered over the rest of you again, taking in the ridges of your collarbone and the soft curve of your waist, the touch of his eyes hovering above your skin like a tangible thing. You tried your best to look unaffected, forcing yourself to remain still under the weight of his stare despite the way it was melting you down to your bones.

“He definitely did not have his priorities in order,” he said, once his eyes ended their journey and returned back to your face. “You’re much nicer to look at.”

His words settled beneath your skin, pulling a sweet warmth to your cheeks that slowly radiated through the rest of your body. You watched as his mouth curved around the rim of his glass again, and followed the path of the drink down the length of his throat.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me.”

He rewarded you with a sly smile.

“Then maybe you don’t know any better.”

Christ. Those were definitely bedroom eyes.

Your lips parted again, though you had little idea as to the words which were preparing to come out of them. Forming coherent and decent thoughts proved to be a great struggle when he looked like he was undressing you with his eyes. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and you swore you could have crumpled right then and there if it hadn’t been for the bar stool underneath you.

“Baekhyun, you’re finally here,” said a giggly Jongin, suddenly appearing between the two of you with Jennie in tow.

The tension from seconds earlier dissipated as quickly as it had formed.

Someone (the birthday boy) had evidently made good use of the open bar to shed the self-imposed shell that came with introversion before the arrival of his friend. “I’m so, so happy to see you. We need to do some shots right now,” he said, now all serious, leaning over to peer at the drinks menu that he himself had signed off on.

Baekhyun was the first to break eye contact, turning to flash Jongin a fond smile. “Sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had,” he said, before downing the rest of his gin and tonic.

The birthday girl requested tequila shots, and the bartender was quick to supply, lining up four glasses and filling them with the clear alcohol that was a recurring character in all your worst hangover episodes. You passed them around, but not before turning back around to the bar for one more thing.

“And a vodka cranberry, please,” you added, catching the amused smile Baekhyun threw your way.

“For old time’s sake.”

It was approaching the early hours of the morning when the remainder of the party retired to the hotel suite Jennie had booked for the night. One of her chill, moody, late-night R&B playlists had been queued up and was playing softly on the speaker system in the living room — she had a playlist for every conceivable mood and situation — and you could just make out the melody of a Daniel Caesar song, quiet and soothing against the nighttime.

“Okay, you win,” Baekhyun conceded with amusement, sitting up to grab the soju bottle from your outstretched hand. “I’ve never had someone throw up on me, at least not on the first date.” He settled back against the pillows, bringing the bottle to his lips to take a small, slow sip.

“Thanks, but it’s a victory I’d rather not have. There’s no pride in knowing I’m the only person I know to have a guy spew all over my shoes within ten minutes of meeting me,” you said, leaning back and letting your hands sink into the plush comforter.

Some thirty or so minutes ago, you had found yourself in one of the smaller rooms of the suite, sitting across from Baekhyun with nothing but a few inches of egyptian cotton separating you. All night, you had felt his presence, whether it was the light brush of his warm fingers across the bare skin of your shoulder to grab your attention, or the weight of his stare from across the rooftop bar while you posed for pictures with Jennie and the rest of the girls. He had infiltrated your senses, occupying his own little space in the corner of your consciousness. Right now, having the whole of him so unobstructed before you, being the sole focus of his attention within the four walls of this small room — it was obvious that the alcohol wasn’t the only thing bringing a heady warmth to your face.

He levelled you with a careful look, and instead of handing the bottle back to you as he had done for the last thirty minutes, he set it onto the nightstand beside the bed with a soft clink. You raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.

“I think you should probably slow down,” he said, catching the curious tilt of your head. “Wouldn’t want you to do something you regret.”

You let a coy smile turn the corners of your mouth upward, shifting your weight off your hands and leaning towards him ever so slightly. “Trust me, I know my limits,” you said, and moved to grab the bottle.

The hand you placed on the top of his thigh to steady yourself as you reached over him was deliberate, and you failed to hide the deepening of your smile when you felt the muscles flex beneath your fingers. You also didn’t miss the dip of his eyes below the neckline of your dress as you hovered over him, only pulling back once the cool glass of the bottleneck was firmly in your grasp. The glimmer in his eyes, previously light and boyish, had darkened imperceptibly.

You were playing a dangerous game, and you both knew it.

Beyond the door, Jennie’s playlist had changed to something a little more sultry, Kehlani’s honeyed voice now floating among the sounds of the city from below. His gaze remained on you as you raised the bottle to your lips, tilting it back and letting the tartness of the grape soju fill your mouth.

The song wasn’t the only thing that had changed. There was a palpable shift in the room, a simmering heat gradually seeping into the atmosphere, brought on by your brazen touch. Still, he kept a safe distance, giving you the reins and the freedom to dispel the tension you had created.

Which you had absolutely no intention to.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, relishing in the way his eyes immediately left yours to track the movement. “You know,” you began, turning the bottle over in your hands, “I used to have a bit of a thing for you.”

His eyebrows raised with interest, but there was also a hint of surprise layered beneath.

“Third year, that data algorithms project. I thought a lot about asking you out, actually,” you continued, watching as his face slowly took on a smile at your words. A soft laugh escaped those pretty lips, as if he was enjoying some private joke that you weren’t in on. Without meaning to, you leaned in, drawn to the sound, wanting to understand the amusement behind it.

“You wanna know something?” he asked, to which you weren’t sure if you had actually nodded, or if you had only imagined that you did, too preoccupied by the inviting curve of his mouth.

He was all too willing to comply with the unspoken request behind your curious eyes, moving forward at a languid pace, until his lips hovered just over the shell of your ear, not quite touching, but close enough that you could feel the fluttering pull of air with each of his inhales and exhales. You could smell him too, his cologne now infused with the scent of his skin over the course of the evening, smooth and sweet, and much too dizzying.

His cheek brushed yours for a fraction of a second before you registered the conspiratorial whisper in your ear.

“So did I.”

You hadn’t even realised your own eyes had closed until they were fluttering open with his departure from your space. He pulled back, eyes gleaming with a furtive satisfaction like he had just let you in on some big, juicy, forbidden secret. It took a while for your chest to start pulling oxygen back into your lungs again. How he could render you so breathless when he had barely even touched you — you would’ve been embarrassed if not for the foggy warmth circling your head and radiating throughout the rest of your body, leaving you oblivious to everything but the sheer force of how much you wanted him.

He reached for the bottle, now almost empty, and you fought the flinch when you felt his fingers close around your hand. This time, you didn’t complain when he removed it from your grasp and set it back on the nightstand. The warmth of his hand did not leave yours, flipping it over to trail his fingers lightly across your knuckles.

“These are pretty,” he murmured, thumbing at the rings decorating your fingers. You could only manage a noncommittal hum in response. His touch had stolen your voice right out of your chest, along with all the rationality usually contained inside your mind, leaving you with nothing but the feeling of your own blood thrumming in your veins, hot and fast beneath your skin.

All night, you had danced around each other, stealing furtive glances and exchanging flirty smiles, carefully toeing around the edge of politeness and propriety. And maybe Baekhyun was just too polite, too respectful, letting you take the wheel and steer tonight in whichever direction you wanted, despite the want that was so clearly etched on his face.

Surely, your face was a mirror of his own. Surely, he could tell.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, looking up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, unfurling your fingers to lace his own through them. The press of his warm skin against yours had you light-headed and almost delirious, but you forced your gaze to stay steady on him while you tried to find your voice again.

“I’m thinking,” you began, low and breathy, “about how you’ve been eye-fucking me this whole night.”

His sharp inhale was unmistakable above the quiet of the room. A meteor could have landed right outside the building and you wouldn’t even have noticed, held captive by his dangerous touch and the hunger flaring in his eyes.

“And,” you continued, “how I’ve been waiting for you to do something about it ever since you shut that door.”

The second after the words left your mouth seemed to stretch across an eternity. You watched as he registered them, transfixed by how his whole body seemed to cloud over with desire, pushing out any remaining trace of restraint.

One moment you were sitting on the bed, revelling in the delicious tension you had created, and the next he had pulled you flush against him. His mouth was on yours, hot and needy, the self-control he had been so meticulously keeping to for the entire night disappearing the instant he felt your lips move against his own. You were no better, hands leaving his to fist desperately at the fabric of his shirt. An airy moan left your throat when his tongue brushed against yours, letting you taste the sweetness you had been imagining ever since you laid eyes on him on the rooftop. He swallowed the sound, the plump flesh of his bottom lip tightening into a pleased smile at your reaction.

Baekhyun pulled away first, lips leaving yours to trail across your cheek and down the side of your neck, where you felt the light graze of his teeth over the skin, and then the wetness of his tongue following the same path. His hands had snaked around you, fingers digging into the curve of your waist, keeping you in place while he nipped at you, drawing stilted gasps out of your parted mouth. When he pulled the flesh into the warmth of his mouth and sucked it to a nice, dark bruise, the heat coiling in the pit of your stomach flared, violent and hungry.

You were going to lose your mind.

“You know, you could just try again,” you managed to get out between heaving breaths. “Ask me out.”

“Would you say yes?” he asked, and you felt his lips shape the words against your skin. They dragged back up the column of your throat, capturing your mouth again with another heated kiss that had your head spinning. He shifted, and your knees came to rest on either side of his leg, the firm muscles of his thigh pressing against the part of you that ached for his touch. In the haze of this moment, you didn’t know much, but you knew you would’ve said yes to absolutely anything to come out of that sweet, tempting mouth.

Still, you played along, letting a devious smile pull the corners of your mouth upwards. “That depends on how tonight goes.”

He drew back slightly, fixing you with a wicked look that held promises he was nothing short of determined to fulfil. You could see yourself reflected in the darkness of his blown-out pupils, flushed and already wrecked just from the attention of his mouth. Anticipation and thrill jolted through you like lightning, zipping through every cell in your body as your mind drifted to what he might have in store behind those enticing eyes.

You weren’t left wondering for long. His hands left your waist and moved to your calf, pushing up the silken fabric of your dress as they slowly crept upwards, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The brush of his fingers against your inner thigh drew another shuddering breath out of you.

His next words were not unlike an oath.

“Then I’d better make tonight fucking spectacular.”

#baekhyun #exo baekhyun #byun baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun smut #exo x reader #baekhyun fanfic #exo smut #baekhyun au #baekhyun fluff #kaleidohscopic works

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jangillman · 2 months ago

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TIM ALLEN - ON TRUMP: Whatever your feelings for Trump, these are some interesting points that Tim Allen makes. Put your hatred aside and think about these observations. Tim Allen is credited with writing this ...

Tim Allen wrote... Here are some interesting points to think about prior to 2020, especially to my friends on the fence, like moderate Democrats, Libertarians and Independents and the never Trump Republicans and those thinking of "walking away" from the Democratic party:

- Women are upset at Trump’s naughty words -- they also bought 80 million copies of 50 Shades of Gray.

- Not one feminist has defended Sarah Sanders. It seems women’s rights only matter if those women are liberal.

- No Border Walls. No voter ID laws. Did you figure it out yet? But wait... there's more...

- Chelsea Clinton got out of college and got a job at NBC that paid $900,000 per year. Her mom flies around the country speaking out about white privilege. And just like that, they went from being against foreign interference in our elections to allowing non-citizens to vote in our elections.

- President Trump’s wall costs less than the Obamacare website. Let that sink in, America!

- We are one election away from open borders, socialism, gun confiscation, and full-term abortion nationally. We are fighting evil.

- They sent more troops and armament to arrest Roger Stone than they sent to defend Benghazi.

- 60 years ago, Venezuela was 4th on the world economic freedom index. Today, they are 179th and their citizens are dying of starvation. In only 10 years, Venezuela was destroyed by democratic socialism.

- Russia donated $0.00 to the Trump campaign. Russia donated $145,600,000 to the Clinton Foundation. But Trump was the one investigated!

- Nancy Pelosi invited illegal aliens to the State of the Union. President Trump Invited victims of illegal aliens to the State of the Union. Let that sink in.

- A socialist is basically a communist who doesn’t have the power to take everything from their citizens at gunpoint ... Yet!

- How do you walk 3000 miles across Mexico without food or support and show up at our border 100 pounds overweight and with a cellphone?

- Alexandria Ocasio Cortez wants to ban cars, ban planes, give out universal income and thinks socialism works. She calls Donald Trump crazy.

- Bill Clinton paid $850,000 to Paula Jones To get her to go away. I don’t remember the FBI raiding his lawyer’s office.

- I wake up every day and I am grateful that Hillary Clinton is not the president of the United States of America. The same media that told me Hillary Clinton had a 95% chance of winning, now tells me Trump’s approval ratings are low.

- “The problem with socialism is that sooner or later you run out of other people’s money.”— Margaret Thatcher

- Maxine Waters opposes voter ID laws; She thinks that they are racist. You need to have a photo ID to attend her town hall meetings.

- President Trump said — "They’re not after me. They’re after you. I’m just in their way."

Now, go Back & Read this Again like your Future Depends upon it, Because it Does!

#politics #us politics #democrats are corrupt #democrats will destroy america #wake up democrats!!#leftist propaganda #liberal media #democrat corruption #graft and corruption #lawfare #clinton crime family #clinton foundation #benghazi #usaid #us taxpayers

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cherryheairt · 10 months ago

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Hi :)

I’ve had this headcanon for a while where thranduil, upon falling in love again, makes it quite obvious he feels strongly about reader but won’t push physical limits of affection quite yet. Due to him having been married before he wants to be sure the Gods approve of him falling in love/marrying again as to not cause ill intend to fall upon reader because of him not being in control of his carnal desires. Reader is oblivious to this and pushes/teases him relentlessly.

Might end in smut upon him knowing reader is safe and he may pursue them fully or just him saying fuck it I see no god but me down here lol

Or just might end in him teasing back big time n leaving reader high and dry (but maybe with an explanation lol we love some open communication ✨)

Thank you! And feel free to mix it up and or change ending I’d just love to see a take on this 🙂‍↕️

hello! I'm so sorry that its been forever since you submitted this. thranduil is a character that we only ever got to see in super serious king mode, and had little screentime at that so I wanted to think through his personality a lot. might be ooc

I personally don't know how to write smut, so I didn't include it. I hope that's okay.

The character will be named Myria (meer-rhea), but have no skin color, body shape, hair color, etc description. She is eleven though, if that matters.

👑

The Gods had long since forsaken Thranduil. After he lost his wife, Legolas' mother, the world seemed to darken along with his own attitude. He changed, and everyone in Middle Earth knew it. Legolas never grew up to know the kind and magnanimous person his father was before his late wife's death.

To him, and the world, Thranduil was a stoic and unforgiving King.

To all, perhaps, except Myria. Myria had been born not too long after Thranduil—in Rivendell. Though the two never met until well into adulthood, Myria liked to say that they hit it off well. Thranduil would never admit the same out loud.

Myria moved from Rivendell to Mirkwood for her studies, thanks to her friend Elrond's advisory, and had since lived there for thousands of years. Youthful as ever, Myria made it her unofficial duty to occupy the King of Murkwood's free time.

She had even befriended his only son, Legolas, despite their age gap. The young elf was approaching 3000 years old soon, and he swore that he was more mature than the she-elf that graced their halls.

Myria didn't mind the head shakes or comments from royal advisors, telling her to mind herself around their King. Thranduil had long grown used to it, anyway.

Myria made her way to his royal chambers, uncaring about her unpropriety with visiting without being called upon. This was their daily routine. Thranduil had his meetings before breakfast, then went back to his chambers to dine alone. Or, he would, if Myria wasn't always waiting right there at his table for him.

"What is for breakfast today, My King?" Myria asked jovially, perched upon one of his carved wooden chairs. Originally, there had only been one for himself, but he ordered a matching one to me made after the woman's incessant visits. Before there was a seat, she simply stood at the table. The thought bothered him, a tinging in the back of his mind telling him that she must be on the same level as him, at all times.

Thranduil's long flowing sleeves and cloaks followed behind him as he entered the room. "You ask this every day, Myr. And what is my answer every day?" He asks, though there is no bite to his words.

"That you 'do not know'. Quite amusing, the all-knowing King not knowing something so simple." She mused, scrunching her nose up at his tall frame.

He fought an amused eye roll, sitting in front of her. He poured himself a chalice of sweet red wine, sipping on it as he replied. "Simple, or trivial? I do not concern myself with such affairs, the food is brought to me and I eat it."

"Careful, Thranduil. That may one day get you poisoned." She mirrored his movements, having waited for him to start drinking.

"By whom? Yourself?" He chuckled darkly, amused at the prospect of such a thing. Mirkwood elves' loyalties ran deep, the chances of him dying suddenly from a cold where higher than dying of poison. "You are the only outsider residing here."

Myria 'hmphed' vehemently, lifting her nose at the accusation. "I hardly can be called an outsider these days. How long have I lived here? Four...five thousand years?"

"Five thousand, two hundred and thirty." He answered for her.

Shocked, she stared at him, mouth agape. "You know the exact year?"

"How could I not? That is the year when my life started to get ten times harder."

She snorted, shaking her head. "I disagree. I think it only got better."

Two servants entered the chambers, one plate in hand each. Platters were lifted to reveal the neatly presented food, a light breakfast of fruit and toasted bread.

Myria and Thranduil dug into it, a pleasent chatter filling the room. "What are your plans for today?" She asked him.

"Same as usual, final preparations for the Feast of Starlight. Though, there is a task I wanted to assign you–" Thranduil was interrupted by a guard rushing into the room. He lifted an unimpressed brow, staring the guard down for his brash action.

"Your majesty, a party of rogue Dwarves have been apprehended in the Mirkwood forest!" To this, Thranduil immediately stood and strided past the guard out of the chambers. Myria, struck by the news, eagerly followed in suite.

"You are not supposed to sit in on prisoners being interrogated, Myria." Thranduil told her sternly, knowing the sound of her light steps trailed behind his own heavy ones.

"When has that stopped me before?" She laughed. It had been a nearly a hundred years since she'd seen a dwarf, and much longer than that since one had been in the depths of the Elvenking's Halls. She was excited to see what brave adventurers had come, and survived the dark forest's curse.

Thranduil seated himself at the head of his lifted throne, elegant giant antlers rooting themselves out from behind the throne like a crown. The one perched on his head mirrored that, thick branches striking in contrast to his pure white hair. Myria took a moment to admire him from her spot at the base of the stairs. The guard next to her didn't even blink at her intrusion, knowing the relationship between the ward and the King was a complex one that even the elders didn't bother to deduce.

Myria stayed silent during the precedings, not moving an inch except to lean her head forward and inspect the Dwarves. The party was quite large, a whole gaggle of Dwarves were bravely setting off to reclaim Erebor's keep and defeat the dragon nested under it. The leader, Thorin, was quite handsome for a Dwarf, not that Myria would say so aloud. For all her teasings, that would surely be the tip of the iceburg for Thranduil's patience.

As the majority of the Dwarves were escorted to the dungeons, only Thorin was left in Thranduil's audience. She listened as Thranduil made his offer, then got rejected harshly by the Dwarven King. Screamed at, being told off by a life form deemed lesser than an Elf, Thranduil had enough. He sent the man away with a flick of his wrist.

As he slowly desended the steps after the dwarf 'king' was escorted away, Thranduil placed a hand on Myrias shoulder.

The cold rings on his hand raised goosebumps on the back of her neck and arms, shivering at the feeling. She cursed herself for wearing an off-shoulder dress, dressing herself for the nice weather that morning. If he noticed, Thranduil didn't say anything. But the tiny lift to the corners of his mouth said plenty. "Do not fraternize with the filth that dirties our halls."

Our halls. The brief words pleasently rung in the back of Myria's mind. She nodded. He knew her well, guessing that she would try to sneak into the dungeons during the feast to try to speak with the curious Dwarves.

He moved his hand down, resting it gently on the small of her back. "Let us go, the feast will not oversee itself."

👑

Myria and Thranduil lounged in his chambers, simply biding time until the Feast of Starlight had begun. Admist muted chuckles and jests, mostly from Myria, Tauriel entered the room. "You called for me, My King?" She bowed shortly. "I have come to report to you." Tauriel glanced briefly towards Myria, nodding when she lifted a goblet towards her silvan friend.

"I thought I ordered that nest to be destroyed." Thranduil said, voice taut with frustration. The spiders had been plaguing their forest for years now, unrelenting.

"We cleared the forest as ordered, my Lord." The woman insisted. "But more spiders keep coming from nests in the South. If we could kill them at their source–"

"That fortress lies beyond our borders. Your orders are to keep our lands clear of those foul creatures. That is your task."

"And when we drive them off, what then? Will they not spread to other lands?" Ever the bleeding heart, Tauriel worried for other people.

"Other lands are not my concern." Thranduil said coldly. "The fortunes of this land will rise and fall. But here in this kingdom, we will endure." As had been the way for thousands of years. Thranduil insisted that Mirkwood keep to themselves, not needing or offering help from any others.

Tauriel nodded stiffly, excusing herself from the King's presence. Before she left, however, he spoke again. "Legolas said you fought well today. He has grown...fond of you."

She paused, thinking his words over carefully. "I assure you my Lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than captain of the guard.

"Perhaps he did once. Now, I'm not so sure." Thranduil pushed.

"I did not think that you would allow your son to pledge himself toward a lowly silvan elf." She responded, voice slightly hopeful.

Myria leaned forward, too, curious of his answer. Would he allow his heir to love an elf with no royale blood?

"You are right, I would not." Thranduil chuckled humorlessly at the thought of it. Myria bit her tongue, hurt by the comment indirectly. She was no common-born Elf, sure, but had no royal blood to speak of either. She deflated in her seat, drinking down the rest of her wine. "Do not give him hope where there is none."

Is that what Thranduil had been doing for Myria, merely giving her hope? Slivers of special attention, with no intentions of truly loving her. She stood from her seat, leaving the chambers without a word.

Tauriel, too, left quickly after that.

Thranduil stood alone in his chambers, looking at the spot where Myria had once been.

👑

The feast came and passed quickly, Myria in no mood to sing or dance like she usual did at such events. She attended for the sake of politeness, leaving when she had greeted enough people for the night.

She spend the rest of it wallowing in her chambers.

Word got out that the entire party of Dwarves escaped, and Myria silently applauded them for their boldness. She hoped, for their sake, that they were successful in freeing their home.

Days passed, and news of Smaug's death had spread to every corner of Middle Earth. Thranduil was quick to organize his army to march toward Erebor, wasting no time to retrieve his precious gems. Myria had come along on her own white elk mount, following behind Thranduil silently, if only to satiate her curiosity. Last time they had come, Thranduil had rejected the Dwarves' desperate plea for help. This time, he came to declare war if they refused to return his gems.

The damned gems. Always on his mind. True, they were a physical reminder of his late wife and Queen. But it seemed as though he dwelled on them more than he cherished her memory. He did not speak of her, ever. Even to his own son, his wife was but a ghost haunting the halls.

Myria couldn't begin to understand the loss of a spouse, but she did understand that he was too caught up in himself.

Even though she had little intention of fighting the Dwarves, Myria still brought a dagger and bow on the march. Could never be too careful, Thranduil always reminded her. She guided her elk to stand behind his, watching him greet the human leader stiffly. It was almost laughable how mad his manners were, his kingly presence deemed to good for polite small talk.

Myria had been given a temporary quarter near Thranduil's, their tents close as they usually were. He had been too busy to notice her absence lately, both to her joy and displeasure. She missed his daily warmth around her, but knew it was best to distance himself from him. Just this last journey, then she sould go back to Rivendell to live out the rest of her long and lonesome life.

Thranduil plotted with the human leader, Bard, and a wizard by the name of Gandalf. Myria wandered the decrepit town while they did, having no place in war council, nor did she wish to.

By the time she had returned, night had fallen and all the humans of the town were asleep. Myria ducked into her tent, desperate for some solid rest before a potential battle on the morrow. She was surprised to see Thranduil sitting awkwardyl on her cot.

"Thranduil? What are you doing here, you should be resting." Myria insisted, brow furrowed.He stood at her entrance, possibly being left waiting for quite a while.

"I wished to see you before we go to Erebor's gates in the morning. I suspect that the Dwarf will have something up his tiny sleeve. I know you are a capable fighter, but I want you to stay in town tomorrow just in case."

She protested sharply, "I am just as much a fighter as any elf in your army. I will not sit around and wait for you to return–"

"Please, Myria." He rested both of his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her with his deep blue eyes "I could not focus if I knew you were behind me somewhere. If I know you are safe, I can retrieve the jewels easier." Always about the jewels. He should have married them, she thought bitterly.

"Is that an order?"

"It is a request. From a friend." Thranduil said softly.

Myria bit her cheek, crossing her arms. "Fine. I will stay here on the morrow. But, if any fighting breaks out, I will join."

He seemed content with her answer, knowing its as far as he'll get with her stubbornness. "Very well, I'll see you when this is over." He planted a tender kiss to the top of her head before he left to his own tent.

👑

Myria could only watch from afar as negotiations with the Dwarves had clearly gone to shit. More dwarves had shown up, an entire army to match the Elves' golden one. Myria rushed back to grab her bow, bursting out of her tent to the sound of screams in the town. Surely the Dwarves wouldn't target the women and children who had stayed behind?

She was right. It was orcs who had invaded the town, cutting off exits as they slashed through defenseless crowds of people. Myria rushed to help whoever she could, shooting down orcs' fat heads whenever they got too close to a fleeing human. With her dagger, she slashed through whoever she could reach to retrieve each of her arrows.

This arduous process repeated for some time, Myria panting with effort as she continued. The sounds of screams toned done as golden-armored soldiers flooded into the cobble streets and started to push back at the beastly creatins. Myria breathed a sigh of relief, engaging another orc. It was larger than most, with armor protecting its head and chest. She slashed at his with a sword she had taken from dead enemy, yelping when he stabbed into her abdomen with his own weapon. She gasped, trying to keep her composure as he approached above her menacingly. As he lifted his sword above his head again, ready to strike down the Elf, his head was detached from his body in a spray of hot blood.

Myria flinched at the feeling on her skin, feeling disgusted more than she already was with the sweat and dirt covering her. Thranduil came from behind the orc, who was now dead on the floor. He crouched down in front of her, a frantic look in his eye that betrayed his regal appearance. "Myria, look at me!" He shouted, her blurry vision shakily focusing on him. He held her face in his hands, watching her try to keep them open. "It's okay, I'll get you help." Thranduil promised her, gingerly lifting her up princess style. He flinched when she protested in pain, clutching at her stomach to stop the blood from gushing out.

"It's okay, you'll be alright, sweet." He told her, repeating himself multiple times as if to convince himself, too.

He brought her outside of the town, where Elven medics had set up a discreet few tents disguised to the orc's vision by Elven magic. The King layed her gently on a stiff cot, petting her hair comfortingly as she screamed in pain at the medic disinfecting and stitching her wound up. He glared at the Elf assigned to help her, making the poor young fellow sweat in fear of messing uo in front of his King.

Eventually, the sounds outside died out. Thranduil regretted taking his forces to this pit of death. He had lost more Elves today than had ever been lost at one time since the Great War. Elves did not die easily. This was a massacre of great damage to their ranks, to their people. Thranduil mourned the deaths of his kin dearly.

Myria had calmed, pain dulling when given some numbing herbs. She focused her attention on Thranduil, "you came for me." She said, voice barely a whisper.

"Of course, I did. Why wouldn't I?" He asked, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"Your gems...they're still locked away in the keep, aren't they?" She asked.

"The gems are not my priority. They are merely objects, remembrances. You are alive, I need you."

Myria felt tears blurr her vision, clamping her throat shut. "But–I am not from any important bloodline. I am not a Princess, nor—"

"I do not care. You are Myria. The woman who has been by my side for five thousand years. The only lady worthy of being Queen by my side is you."

Thranduil took her into his arms as she cried. He shushed her gently, hands locked into her hair as she clung to him.

"I love you, Thranduil. I have for a long, long time."

"And I, you, my dearest Myr."

#thranduil #thranduil x reader #lotr #the hobbit

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burningcheese-merchant · 4 months ago

Note

cmon burningcheese headcanon generator 3000. I know you got some more in there so SPIT IT OUT ALREADY!!!

Should I change my blog name to that, I wonder 🤔

Rough day today so I'm going to answer this particular ask in an attempt at self-soothing because BurningCheese makes me happy haha

For Valentine's Day, Burning Spice likes to show off his surprising way with words by writing Golden Cheese poetry. Even today, after knowing him for so long (and knowing he's not dumb, far from it), she still can't help but feel astonished by the silver tongue he hides in his mouth. He's been doing this since long before they ever got together (he started when she began tolerating him enough to allow him near her outside of their usual sparring sessions lol) and he's never missed a day. Even when she still hated him, she was never able to refuse (both because he knew to play to her love of gifts, and because he wouldn't leave her alone until she took the damn envelope lol)... Nowadays she almost acts like a schoolgirl with a crush, in how excited she is to see what he writes her next. She keeps them all safe in an everything-proof box and it's one of her favorite things to receive from him (like so haha)

Likes To Bite x Likes Being Bitten (and it goes both ways lol. GC just waits until they're alone to give him a nibble. He loves it so fucking much you have no idea)

BS's main love language is physical touch, which he gives GC in spades. A hand on her shoulder, an arm around her waist, grabbing her and yanking her away from whatever she's doing and into an inescapable hug, holding her in his lap, smothering her with kisses, adult fun time (wink wink)... He simply cannot keep his hands off of her, nor does he want to, nor will he ever. (this also extends to fighting. They still spar all the time, for fun. Old habits die hard)

BS is extremely clingy at bedtime, he will grab onto GC and fall asleep and not let her go no matter what (he won't wake up either, he sleeps like the dead... Unless she tries to get up to drink water or something, then he's awake and grumbling and fussing like a spoiled baby until she's back in his indestructible cage of an embrace)

GC doesn't like spicy food at all. She indulges BS when he wants her to try food from his homeland because that's what lovers do for each other (and she's too proud to chicken out), but... goodness, those people are insane. They think this amount of spice in a dish is acceptable??? BS just thinks it's really funny to watch her sputter and her face turn red when she eats a mouthful of vindaloo lol (although he secretly hopes that any children they have do not inherit her spice intolerance)

BS helps GC preen or otherwise tend to her wings when necessary. She used to ask her attendants to help, now he's the only one who's allowed to (they've come a long way since this haha)

They're both very jealous and not jealous at the same time, if that makes any sense. Neither doubts the other's loyalty or devotion, not one bit. Buuuuut alsooooooo they don't like when anyone else tries anything with the other lol. Someone even LOOKS at GC Like That and BS is either getting in their face to intimidate them or being overly touchy with GC to establish dominance lol. (GC usually doesn't need to step in if the reverse happens, BS will just tell other women to fuck off point-blank. But if they don't listen, then it's HER turn to be overly touchy to establish dominance lol. Also, lots of mean girl insults. That's what you get for trying something with her man)

BS proposed to GC on the same cliff where he tore up her wings. Very macabre and tasteless on the surface, admittedly, but he saw it as undoing the dark, unfortunate significance that place held. Making new, happy memories to replace the old, unhappy ones, ykwim? (She understood what was meant by them being there when it happened, she was actually very touched)

BS is GC's new throne. Being significantly smaller than him means she fits really snug in his lap. An extra throne was not built for him after they married because GC said that he's allowed to sit in hers and she'll just sit in his lap when he does lol

GC tastes rich and a bit salty; BS tastes very hot and spicy. His is actually the only spice she can tolerate (and thinks is delicious)

Something kid-related just because: GC named their son, BS named their daughter. But you probably could've guessed that on your own haha

#i have more because BurningCheese has demonically possessed me. but I'll save them for another time #cookie run kingdom #burning spice cookie #golden cheese cookie #burningcheese #goldenspice #merchant asks #important notice: you can pry the poetry hc from my cold dead hands. it's adorable to me and I love it #i know it doesn't sound like BS but SHUSH! let them try new things to impress each other :(

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popcornforone · 4 months ago

Text

Bunked Up

A Mr Ben Fan Fic

I gave you a vote & you overwhelmingly chose Mr Ben as this weeks fic. This one I’ve had completed in draft since the end of November but then I had Christmas writing then the January & February challenges, so it been patient waiting for its turn.

Synopsis:- You are need an extra teacher for your field trip, your new boy friend mr Ben agrees to help.

Word Count:- 3000

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! PIV unprotected sex, swearing, muffling, orgasms, established but secret & new realationship, lover colleagues, PDA, bed creeping, small bed scenario.

Thanks as always for the read peoples, I hope you enjoy this, it’s been a very fun write.

“Free for a second Ben” you poke your head around his class room door. “I need to vent & you always love to tell me to calm down” in you stroll, youve only been back at school 3 days teaching & are already stressed. Being the new head of geography is already proving hard work. Bens busy reading a the new poetry anthology he needs to get his 15 year olds to work on. His feet are up in the desk. He slowly lowers his book & his glasses & eyes pop up from behind it. Instantly making you calmer. Who could ever be angry at such a handsome face.

“Couldnt this wait until later” he groans, but he knows from your tone this needs to be off your chest now, you both like to try & leave work at work.

“Ben!”

“What”

“You’d rather I talked about this when we go out for dinner tonight?” It’s Thursday & you’ve decided to make tonight your date night. You’ve been seeing each other for the last 6 months & are soon going to have to have that chat about where you see this going.

“No you’re right sorry” he puts his book mark in & closes the anthology. You know he’s read this at least once, he took the book with you when you went on your mini break in the summer to the Hamptons.

“So you know George,”

“Yes”

“Well his wife now needs to be induced for the triplets they are having” Ben wonders why this affects you.

“Okay so…”

“The date they have been given in October 4th”

“&…”

“It’s when our field trip to Florida is happening, to take the kids to the keys just before storm season”

“So….” Ben can’t see the point”how does he having his babies effect your trip, he doesn’t teach Geography”

“No but he’s a man & he has always volunteered for trips to be the spare man if one is needed.” Ben sees your issue. “Me Jenny & Scott are all the geography teachers & we have to leave 2 teachers behind to teach the rest & set supply, so we need another man on the field trip”

“Okay yes” you look bemused.

“What do you mean yes”

“Yes I’ll do it…” your jaw drops.

“Ben… I…I… I wasn’t expecting that”

“Why not”

“Well you don’t even teach a humanity & no one cares if a Religious study’s teacher goes away for 5 days, but your head of English”

“Did you just want 5 days without me?” He says & takes his glasses off & bites the end of them. You dampen your panties instantly. That always makes you want to jump his bones.

“Ben stop it”

“Make me” you lean across his desk & pull at his dark blue tie. He groans. His lips that you kiss every day feeling more plump today for some reason. He holds your neck gently, cradling it.

“You sure you want to come on a boring geography field trip. I only came in here to have a moan…”

“You’ve done that in both respects” he giggles.

“Ben”

“What” you playfully dig him in the ribs.

“I’ll need to go clear this with the principal, but if you really did want to, then it would be a huge help then me having to email everyone in the school tomorrow morning”

“If it’s okay with the head, I’m in”

“Ahhh” you squeeze him “my hero & don’t worry all you need to do is be a chaparone, we will do the teaching, we just need a male teacher.” He hugs you back.

“It’s geography, what could go wrong?”…

Ben wasn’t happy when you got to where you were staying for the field trip. Yes he got his own room but it was a half double bed & a little basic. He was upset you weren’t on the same floor as him. But he put on a happy face as the wind & rain blew at him as the kids collected data each day. You are built for these field trips. You can stand in the winds & speak to kids, you’ve been doing it for years, the cold doesn’t get to you until at least the last day of each trip which is why now as head of department, you’ve organised for the last day of the field trip to be either organising the data the kids have collected or going to a museum so your not all frozen. Ben however usually takes kids to plays or to readings or lectures. When you packed him lots of waterproof clothes & thermals he laughed, now he wished you’d packed more.

He stands there as the kids are busy measuring the long shore drift. You’ve told him he can have a break for a few minutes. So he’s sat on a sea defence, desperately clasping to a flask of coffee he brought with him to keep warm. You look up & see this & mouth to Scott to keep an eye on everyone & walk across the beach to Ben. He try’s to man up straight away the second he senses you walking over but you can tell he’s not enjoying this.

“Told you these weren’t for the faint hearted”

“I ain’t volunteering next year no way, thought you said this would be fun”

“It is”

“Since when”he scoffs struggling to undo the top of his flask, his hands shivering in his gloves. you sigh & take it from him & undo it straight away. A seasoned professional at how to survive the elements.

“Ben I promise you that we have one more day here on the beach after today taking data then it’s class room based & a museum & no more wind & rain & sea breeze okay” you rub his hat ruffling his hair under it.

“You’re made of strong stuff you know” he says a small smile forming on his face after sipping his hot drink. The colour coming back into his face.

“Years of doing this Ben, be glad we’re not doing this in December”

“Well I wouldn’t be here” he say & you look concerned. “Those triplets would be almost 2 months old by then” you both laugh & you slowly take his hand in yours giving it a squeeze.

“I know I say this a lot, but I really am thankful you did volunteer to do this” this makes him smile too.

“Anything to make my girl happy”

Tomorrow you are all off to a museum before flying back to New York. The kids you’ve all been looking after & who haven’t been in bed before 1pm no matter how hard you all tried every night, are finally all knackered. All in their rooms by 11pm. Clearly they have reached exhaustion, because no matter how many brave faces you & the teachers have put on, you’re all spent too.

Jenny has agreed to man the corridors tonight if there’s anything that goes on. She hadn’t done it for the first 3 nights of the trip at all & had got the most sleep. You slip into your jammies & sit on your half double bed which squeaks & is hard & sit there with a mug of hot water, reading your romance novel. Finally some you time as you hear the rain clatter on the window. Or so you thought, a polite knocking happens on your door & you grown. The kids know to not talk to you unless it’s a complete emergency tonight, you slink out of bed & grab your Hoodie to put it on over your top, it’s not completely see though but it’s not the best for a kid to see. You yawn as you open the door.

“This had better…” the door is pushed open. Large familiar hands engulf you in second, kicking the door shut behind the large man. Your lips peppered & your neck caressed.

“Oooh baby”

“Ben” you moan your hands all up in his hair. You can feel his erection through his bottoms. “Baby we’re on a field trip”

“Couldnt sleep, have only had about 6 hours sleep since we got here”

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me” you say & hold him back a few seconds. His puppy dog eyes filled with sorrow & tiredness.

“Didn’t want my girl to have something else to worry about”

“Ben you should have told me” you caress his face. He smiles at your touch. “I’d have got you another mattress or”

“It’s not the same, you weren’t there to wake up to”

“I’m not always there for you to wake up to”

“But your here in this building, sleeping the floor bellow, it’s ached not being able to touch you or kiss you or pleasure you” he closes the gap between you both again. Little kisses around the base of your neck. He loves to do that. His hand slips inside you jammies.

“Ben please”

“Why not” he relaises you have no underwear on.

“No Ben you misunderstand” his eyes dilate as you smirk”oooh Ben please” your own hand going into his trouser, teasing his erection.

“Oooh fuck baby” he yanks down your jammie bottoms & the two fingers that were on your clit slip inside your sex. You grab onto his shoulder & whimper.

“Fuck Ben”

“Just getting you ready baby, want my girl to enjoy it all as we have no lube”

“Any condoms” you hadn’t brought your birth control tablets with you.

“Erm….” He looks embarrassed.

“Ben there’s solutions in pharmacy’s.” You tug off his T-shirt as the rain gets heavier outside. He pushes you on your bed which creeks & takes off your hoodie & top. Looking at you already on the edge of bliss just by his fingers taking you.

“Your fucking needy baby”

“Only cos you like it.” You wrap your legs around him & get your feet in the back of his waist band. You both wriggle so his penis springs free, rubbing your skin just above your clit, getting some of your pubic hair on it. He takes his fingers from inside you & sucks.

“Fucking delicious” he moans before his fingers grip his length. Pre cum drips across your sex. The way you groan when he slowly Edges all the way inside you. It may have only been a couple of days where you hadn’t had sex, but this felt needed by you both. His eyes wide, as he sinks deeper into you & the way his moustache curls has you feeling even more in heaven than you already are.

“Fuck Ben” his hand covers your mouth.

“Shhhh the kids below” he reminds you. His first thrust powerful. You grip his skin. The bed creeks louder than your moan.

“Ben” you whimper “the bed will give us more away” he giggles with you. “Can you do slow & sensual?” So far all your sex sessions have been rough & passionate. No holding back, you both feel like you’ve had a work out by the end of it. He raises an eye brow.

“I can try beautiful” he whispers before then kissing all around your ear. His next couple of movements slower, rubbing your walls, hitting your spot as you hiss in pleasure trying to be quiet. “But when you look as sexy as this, it hard to control myself”.

No matter how hard you try to be quiet & he try’s to be slow, noises fill the room. The bed even slow creeks, the headboard hitting the wall. You moan every 3 thrusts fuck out loud. Eyes time you do he sucks on your breasts & then you squeeze his bum making him whimper. Feeling him raw always makes your eyes roll, his length knows what to do as you grip onto him. Your legs still wrapped around him. You’re squeezing him too, pushing him deeper, making him feel bigger, the pleasure unmatched. As your collective climax approaches, he gives up. His large hand no longer over your mouth. The bed rocking & rolling with you as you both pant & swear. The air turning blue.

“Fuck fuck b..” before you can scream Ben snogs you. He knows how loud you screech his name when you cum & he knows hearing it will make him reply back with your own name. His tongue taking over sets you off, your body jolting through your climax. As you clamp around you, his own high hits, filling you up with his seed. He always digs his hand in hard to your hip when he finishes. He pants, lying flush on top of you. You ruffle his hair eventually when your lips separate. His sweaty body warming your though. The bed no longer creaking as you both lie in silence as the rain stops & you both fall asleep in each others arms.

You both slept so well. Just being near each other made you both feel safe & secure. Your heat radiating. It was the perfect way to end your school trip. Or so you both thought.

Ben crept out of your room like he was a naughty school boy at about 5am after peppering you with kisses as an apology for not staying the whole night & went back to his bed. You both made sure to shower before joining the other teachers & your students in the canteen for breakfast. You walked in first & grabbed a coffee & a pastry. A few kids looked your way but not too many. But when Ben walked in the whole of your field trip turned to face him & then back at you & then him. Ben was never good at poker faces, he turned bright red instantly as the room filled with loud gossip. His name on everyone’s lips. He slowly went to get his breakfast & then sat down next to you at the teachers table like he had done every morning, with his hand on your thigh.

“Slept well Ben” Jenny asked.

“I did” he sheepishly replied.

“Probably too well that you almost stumbled up the stairs this morning” said Scott. He shot looks between you both.

“Fuck did you see”

“No” Scott said “but we all heard her bed creek for 20mins last night, the walls are thin” you both look at each other. You look a little more mortified than Ben. Ben then takes the hand from you thigh & locks it around your fingers, rubbing across your knuckles.

“What can I say” says Ben now proud of his night time activities “she’s the love of my life & not sharing a bed with her this week has been torture” you drop your cutlery in shock at what he just said the whole canteen falls silent.

“You… you love me?” You say not realising the whole room can hear you.

“Yes baby, I do” your face lights up.

“Good cos I love you too” you both forget you are in a room full of high school students & tenderly kiss. His lips soft & full of the love you both just declared.

A collective awwwwww from all the students fills both your ears & you remember where you are.

“Alright you lot just shhh okay” says Ben.

“You know they’ve been shipping us for a while Ben”

“Really” he raises an eyebrow, you know that smile to well.”well then let’s given them something to talk about”. Ben leans in & presses a lingering kiss to your temple before turning back to his breakfast, acting like he didn’t just declare his love in front of a room full of teenagers. You, on the other hand, are still reeling, the warmth of his hand in yours grounding you. Jenny smirks over her coffee.

“Well, at least it’s official now. The worst kept secret in the school.”

Scott shakes his head, laughing.

“You two really thought no one knew?” Ben feigns innocence, taking a bite of his toast.

“We were subtle.” He proclaims, this makes some of the students near bursts into laughter.

“Sir no offense, but you literally stare at her like shes the star cheerleader in the team” one of the kids says, another chimes in,

“also she looks at you like you’re the only person in the room.” You glance at Ben, & he gives you a little shrug, as if to say, they’re not wrong. You roll your eyes but squeeze his hand under the table. Jenny sighs dramatically.

“So what happens now? A romantic wedding in the school gym? Matching ‘his and hers’ coffee mugs in the staff room?”

Ben grins, finally regaining his confidence.

“I was thinking something more low-key. Maybe just moving in together first?” You choke on your coffee.

“Excuse me?”

He shrugs, pretending to focus on his breakfast, but the slight pink in his cheeks gives him away.

“I mean… it’s not like I ever want to wake up without you again. I want to be bunked up with you…” he gulps & then looks you seriously but softly in the eyes, love pouring out of them “…forever”

The students erupt into more cheers and dramatic awwws as you sit there, staring at him in stunned silence. Eventually, you shake your head, laughing.

“Well,” you say, nudging him with your knee under the table, “let’s get today over with & then when we get back tonight we can have a chat without additional ears” you caress his face. Ben smirks, leaning in just close enough for only you to hear.

“I’ll make sure when we get back that the only person that hears you orgasm is me” you blush crimson, for the first time in days, despite the exhaustion, the cold, & the chaos of chaperoning teenagers, you feel completely, utterly warm.

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lives-in-midgard · 1 year ago

Text

Do You Remember?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: After Steve almost lost you during a mission he needs to tell you about his feelings for you.

Word Count: 1220

Warnings: light angst, them being on a mission, let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hey everyone!💗 This is my submission to the @secretswiftymarvelfan I Love You 3000 writing Bonanza. I hope you and everyone else like how it turned out!

Prompts: Steve Rogers | friends to lovers| "Do you remember that night in [insert place]?"

Masterlist

When you joined the Avengers a few years ago, you never thought you’d get this close to them. Especially not that you would be this close to Steve. Steve is your best friend and you are his. But there is also something else between you two. A few months ago, you started having feelings for him but were too afraid to tell him. Now you get butterflies every time he puts his arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer to him while you watch movies together or when he gives you a pet name and gives you that smile you love so much.

What you didn’t know was that Steve felt the exact same way about you. There were so many moments where Steve wanted to confess how he felt, but then he got too nervous and told himself that he would tell you the next time he had the chance. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell you until today.

You were currently on a mission with the other Avengers. The goal of the mission was to take down a HYDRA base and bring important information from the computer there. Everything was planned and everyone knew what to do when they left the compound that day.

In the quinjet you could feel Steve’s gaze on you. As your best friend, he was almost always worried about you on missions, especially when it involved HYDRA. Of course, Steve knows that you’re a good assassin and that you can protect yourself, but as your best friend and because he loves you so much, he can’t stop worrying that something might happen to you. Steve always tries to look out for you and help whenever he sees you having problems.

The quinjet landed near the HYDRA base and everything went according to the plan. You all went in, took down the Agents and Natasha was about to get the information you needed.

“I have everything.” Natasha said over the headphones.

“Okay, then let’s get out of here.” Steve commanded and everyone agreed. Everyone made their way out of the building. You were almost outside when you suddenly heard an explosion not far away from you. You flinched and looked back to where it came from. A few seconds later there was a second explosion and the building started to burn.

You have to get out of there as soon as possible or you’ll never see Steve again. The next thought that came to your mind was that you’ll never be able to tell him how you really feel.

Outside of the building:

“Shit Buck, where is y/n?” Steve said as he nervously paced around.

“She’ll probably be out in a few seconds.” Bucky said and Steve hoped that he was right. They all looked at the building and waited a few more minutes until suddenly a second explosion occurred and the building began to burn.

“Shit, where is she?” Steve said again and the others started to worry as well.

“Y/n, can you hear me? Sweetheart?” Steve said over the headphones, hoping you would say something, but you didn’t.

“Y/n honey?” He tried again but got no response from you. Steve looked at Bucky worriedly. Bucky placed a comforting hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“Buck I- I never got to tell her how much I love her.” Steve said with a tear rolling down his cheek.

“Steve, she knows.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“I have to go and find her.” Steve confirmed, turning around and running towards the building.

“Steve!” Bucky shouted, but Steve didn’t want to turn around. He had to find you and make sure you were safe.

Steve was about to go into the building when you came running out. When you saw Steve, you jumped into his arms. He was so relieved that you were safe now. Steve wrapped his arms around you and held you tight. He kissed your forehead and then asked.

“Are you hurt?” You looked into his beautiful eyes and noticed how worried and sad he looked.

“I’m okay.” You mumbled, laying your head back on his chest. Steve kissed your forehead and then picked you up and carried you to the quinjet. Steve gently placed you on a chair, knelt down and began checking to see if you had any injuries. You sat there in silence, still in shock at what just happened.

Steve softly pulled up your shirt and found a wound on your left arm. He looked at you worriedly and then said, “I’ll put a bandage over it, okay?”

You nodded and Steve asked Bucky to bring everything he needed. Steve treated your wound gently, then put a bandage over it and then looked at your face. He pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and tried to smile at you. You smiled back and reached for his hand.

“Thank you, Steve.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart, but you should still go to a doctor and get checked out.”

“Only if you come with me.” You said and Steve smiled.

“Of course, I’m coming with you.” He paused for a moment and then said more.

“I’m so glad you’re safe. I was so scared and for a second I really thought I had lost you.” Steve said, having that sad look in his eyes again.

“Oh, Stevie, I promise you that you won’t lose me.” You said and now put your hand on his cheek.

“When I first heard the explosion, I thought about how I could never tell you that … I love you. I love you so much more than you think. And I know I should have told you sooner, but I wasn’t sure what you -” Steve wanted to say more but you interrupted him.

“Steve, I love you too. A few months ago, I realized that you mean so much more to me than just a friend.” You confirmed and Steve’s smile began to grow and so did yours.

„Do you remember that night in Paris?” Steve asked and you nodded. He was referring to the night when the Avengers were invited to an important gala event. You and Steve danced that night and talked all night while watching the sunset together.

“That was the night I realized I love you.” Steve said and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach as he smiled at you.

“Oh, Steve I’m so glad we feel the same way.”

“Me too.” He said and then moved closer to you. Steve pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and placed his hand on your cheek. You made the last inch between the two of you and kissed him. The kiss was soft but didn’t last long because you both remembered that the others were there as well. When you turned away you smiled at each other. Steve stood up, sat next to you and took your hand in his. You rested your head on his shoulder and enjoyed the flight back to the compound. When you landed at the compound, Steve made sure you went to a doctor and got taken care of.

You and Steve were so happy to finally know that you have the same feelings for each other and you were so excited to go on your first date with Steve.

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suniloli · 1 year ago

Text

JUST FOR KICKS

29 May 2024

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: approximately 3 swear words, sexual innuendo, fluff

Setting: Prison (between s3-4)

Summary: Today’s weather was perfect for an impromptu prison soccer match. Prison goers — children, adults and spectators alike — become involved, including an enthusiastic you and uncharacteristically playful Daryl.

Author Note: Finally back from my 3000 year hiatus!!!! Here’s a little piece I wanted to get out before I lost it. This is more of an innocent one that I wanted to write (although it’s SUPER predictable ….) I hope the POV jumps are easily followable. Am working on another Daryl fic atm. Enjoy! - Sól

The gorgeous spring sun in the sky and the soft warm breeze were the perfect conditions to be outside and enjoying life. Well, what ‘life’ you could experience within the prison’s metal fences in the middle of an apocalypse anyways.

This sort of weather was your favourite. It reminded you of your sporting days before walkers came to be, especially the excitement you felt before your games where you’d soak up the sun and let it fuel your competitiveness. Like a videogame character harnessing the sun’s power to unleash their most powerful combat moves.

It boosted your spirit, and reminded you that even in this world, beauty could still be found. You just had to be open to it.

And open to it you were. When a couple of the teenagers came excitedly kicking around a soccer ball they’d found, you couldn’t help yourself. Many others felt the same way, which is probably how you all ended up in a massive soccer game across the courtyard, children mixed with adults, the majority of prison goers spectating on the sidelines.

You managed to get enough to have a 6 v 6, exactly three teens and three adults on each team. Your side included some of your closest friends, Glenn and Sasha. On the other side were Carl and Michonne, and some other Woodbury residents you’d seen around and shared a laugh or two with. Today felt the closest to the life you had before, which was one of sport-filled weekends. So, naturally, it brought out your zealous streak. You were going to win.

“Guys. We need to fucking smash em’.” you asserted.

“Y/N! There's kids here…” Glenn jokingly admonished.

“We’re 15 man…” one of the teenagers pointed out.

“Anyways…they’re gonna lose whether they like it or not. I’ll play up front. Glenn…you’re quick, so you’ll be with me…uh…” you drifted off, attempting to come up with a game plan. You were so focused that you hadn’t realised the run crew had arrived back and were driving towards the gates. Glenn and Sasha were watching you with amusement. The kids were waiting for your word. You were the professional after all.

“She’s super into this,” Sasha smirked.

“Hell yeah!” Glenn smiled. “She’s really good at soccer. We’ve had many conversations about it. Mad skills.”

Sasha patted his shoulder. “Guess we’re gonna have to step up our game then.”

After deliberating with the kids for a bit, you and your team were ready.

It was time.

The whistle — an actual whistle someone had found — was blown by Carol, and the game was on.

Oh, was the high shrill music to your ears.

Kick-off commenced, the other team passing it amongst themselves for the first couple of minutes. Of course, since there were no real referees, and since Michonne happened to be right there, you gave her a little shove as you passed, giving her a teasing wink.

“You bitch!” she laughed as she began running hard for the ball.

You dashed forward, intercepting a pass meant for her, and crossed it over to Glenn on the left wing.

Ever the quick pizza delivery boy, he sprinted up the sideline, onlookers getting excited. Making a few minor mistakes, he still managed to manoeuvre the ball around Carl, who you noted was surprisingly fast on his feet, and kicked it back to you sprinting up the centre field. You caught it with your left foot and continued on. Two defenders were gaining on you.

You juked the defender on the left, rolling the ball under your right foot. Chipping the ball over the remaining defender’s head, you booked it straight to the goal.

The goalkeeper’s face was full of determination. His hands were out in front of him, feet moving from side to side. In the second that you spent looking at him you could tell he was a bit unsure, but his confidence was unwavering. You admired it.

However, you used his inexperience to your advantage.

You faked to the right, watching his eyes follow your movement, then swiftly cut to the left. His stance faltered, giving you just the right amount of time to hit the ball with your left foot. You could vaguely hear kids yelling in the background, Glenn’s shrill laughter, and Sasha’s cheers filling the air.

As you kicked the ball, its trajectory started outside the line of the makeshift goalpost, and about halfway it began to curve inwards. You held your breath as you saw the ball curving towards the very top left corner, waiting with bated breath as the goalie took a gigantic leap towards it.

The ball sailed and sailed and sailed.

Until you witnessed it pass just inside the post, and the satisfying *thud* of the ball hitting the ground behind it caused your teammates to erupt in cheers.

Pumping your fists in excitement, you saw Glenn sprinting up to you with his arms outstretched.

“HOLY SHIT!”

“Oof!” you breathed, getting thrown to the ground in a giant bear hug. Before you knew it, all of the kids, including those of the opposition — a definite product of over-excitement — began stacking on top of the both of you, until all anyone could see was a massive pile of bodies in the middle of the courtyard.

Laughter and screams and fun filled the air. You didn’t even care about the goal anymore. The innocence and presence of the moment were enough to bring happy tears to your eyes.

Rick wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead as he closed the gate behind the car. Looking towards the courtyard, he mumbled to himself in disbelief. “Are they playin’ soccer?”

As Daryl hopped out of the passenger side, he responded a bit incredulously. “Looks like it.”

Opening the boot to retrieve the supplies they brought back, Maggie started giggling, seeing her husband with the ball. “Look! Go Glenn!”

Glenn had the ball and was sprinting up the sideline. At that moment, the three of them observed his and your play.

“Damn girl…” Daryl breathed upon seeing your goal. Rick let out a low chuckle. Seeing his son playing was like being transported back to a time he thought he’d never get to experience again as a father.

When Glenn tackled you to the ground, Maggie let off a grunt of amused disapproval and began jogging towards the fun.

"She’s gonna’ suffocate!" Maggie shouted playfully, her voice full of warmth as she made her way onto the field. Slowly, everyone removed themselves from the stack, allowing you to get up and have a laugh. From where Daryl was, it looked as if you and Glenn were trying to coerce Maggie to join in rather animatedly. Cute.

As the game continued, Rick grabbed Daryl’s shoulder breaking him out of his little trance. “You comin’ or what?” he grinned.

Daryl looked to Rick, and after a couple of seconds gave him an upwards nod and made his way down to the sideline with him.

“Ya’ refereein’ or somethin’?” Daryl asked Carol with an amused smirk.

“Something like that…your girlfriend is kicking some major ass.”

“She ain’t…whatever,” Daryl grunted. Looking away and at the field, he saw Michonne pass it off to another player, resulting in a tying of the score and a multitude of cheers. Eyes drifting away from the scoring team and Carl’s silly victory dance, Daryl caught sight of you again.

What you were wearing closely resembled tiny soccer shorts which showed off your long, toned legs. You almost always wore cargo pants, so that was certainly a sight for sore eyes. He stared as the muscles in your quads and glutes expanded and retracted as you ran with an elegance he’d never seen before.

“You might wanna close your mouth before you start drooling big guy.”

A faint blush crept up his neck. Turning to shoot Carol a glare, he growled a low shuddup before being interrupted by the ball landing at his feet. A bit perplexed, he looked down at it, and up again to see a bunch of teens running at him and obnoxiously calling for it.

Daryl couldn’t help but smirk after being encouraged by Carol to pass the ball back. The enthusiasm of youth was so infectious, that even his reserved self couldn’t hide from it.

“Come on, Daryl!” you suddenly exclaimed, causing him to glance towards you. Hearing your voice made a rush of warmth spread through his chest.

As Daryl looked over towards you, you were caught off guard by the handsome smirk he donned, his eyes glistening with something that made your heart skip a beat. Your cheeks flushed slightly, but not from the sun or exertion.

“Gonna kick it or what?” You called out, a bit of a challenge in your tone. Daryl’s smirk widened, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. Without missing a beat, he booted the ball toward the centre of the field. Before either of you could say anything else, Carl beat you to it.

“Come play Daryl! We need another person!”

Carol nudged him in the side. “You should go…”

Daryl looked between Carol, Carl, and finally towards you. You bit your bottom lip and gave a single shrug of your shoulders. The vivaciousness you exuded was alluring. Looking towards the plumpness of your lips and back up, Daryl’s eyes locked with yours and stayed there. It was like you were inviting him to join. Carol hid a knowing smile as he continued to stare.

Daryl couldn’t leave you hanging, nor could he not indulge you (or so he told himself). Squinting his eyes slightly, he took a deep breath to steel his resolve. Your eyes were like magnets drawing him in. You were beautiful.

“Alrigh’...”

As Daryl started jogging onto the makeshift field, a couple of people started cheering and chanting his name. You giggled as he approached you. “Ma’am.”

“Sir.” you mimicked, hands on hips. You subtly lowered your eyes and gazed at him through your lashes. “Ready to get pounded?”

“W-what?” Daryl stuttered, suddenly pretending he was interested in the play being made across the courtyard.

“Are you ready to lose?” You laughed, pinching his side while watching his ears go red. He swatted your hand away.

“Ain't I playin’ wit’ ya?”

“Nuh-uh. Didn’t you hear Carl say they were short one?” You waited for a beat, before suddenly shoving Daryl backwards and running to chase the ball. “So better get into position, Dixie!”

Stumbling back a step or two from your playful shove, it was like a switch was flipped. Hearing his name being called and encouragement being thrown his way from the sidelines, Daryl was nearly completely overwhelmed. He wasn’t used to so much positive attention in this manner…especially your…blatant flirting? He almost didn’t know how to deal with it.

Almost.

Seeing you turn back to give him a wink made a certain desire erupt in his midsection. It ignited a type of fervour in him.

It’s on girl.

Daryl’s heart raced every time the two of you made eye contact. Not having really played a proper game of soccer before, it was difficult for him to try and manufacture some sort of on-field play with you. Although he’d touched the ball and passed it off to others a few times already, he was slightly trepidatious. The timing just wasn’t right for you to engage with him.

So, he just decided to ‘go with the flow’.

Daryl had to admit, this was some of the most enjoyment he’s had in a long time. Especially with other people. But mostly, he enjoyed watching you enjoy yourself.

You were everywhere, laughing, shouting instructions, encouraging your teammates. You were truly in your element. It was like watching a different person, a side of you he hadn’t seen before. And damn if it wasn’t attractive.

Before Daryl knew it, one of the kids passed the soccer ball back to him, and he glanced up to see you were headed straight for him. He started towards you, eyes narrowing in determination.

You saw your chance. Daryl finally had the ball and was within proper distance. You started sprinting towards him, admittedly a bit distracted by the glistening sweat on his arms accentuating every muscle fibre there. Focus Y/N.

As you two closed the gap between each other, Daryl stuck his other leg out and pushed you for good measure, tripping you.

Your momentum carried you forward, causing you to nearly fall head-first into the ground. At the last second you caught yourself, letting out a huff. A series of concerned ‘Oooos’ could be heard from onlookers. “What the hell Daryl!” you yelled at his retreating form.

Admittedly, the action pissed you off a bit. Two can play at that game, chiselled arms be damned.

You quickly pushed yourself from the ground and sprinted at full speed to catch up. You were there in no time. Getting ready to shove Daryl back from behind, you squared up your shoulder and collided with him. It was enough to mess up his footing, and the ball skidded off to the side.

There was an element of shock across Daryl’s face as he turned around to find you behind him, causing your annoyance to completely fizzle out and turn into something more akin to lust-fueled amusement. The two of you locked eyes, and Daryl’s expression turned roguish.

The next few seconds felt as if they were in slow motion. The ball sat stationary fifteen metres away, watching, waiting.

The air cracked with unspoken tension. Your heart was almost beating out of your chest in anticipation of what was to come. Everyone in the vicinity had vanished from your awareness. Now, it was just you, Daryl, and the ball — although really, you were both more focused on the presence of each other than the game now.

Without wasting another second, you lunged forward and grabbed a fistful of Daryl’s sleeveless shirt. You heard him release a grunt of objection, but it was enough for you to pull him backwards and allow you to lead the chase.

You heard Daryl yell smart ass as his footfalls sounded behind. You were so incredibly giddy that you felt like a little girl being chased by her little boy crush in the playground.

You were about three metres from the ball before you felt his calloused hand grip your shoulder, half shoving you in another direction. Catching a glimpse of the rarely-ever captured excitement in Daryl’s face, you began giggling as you tried to retain your balance.

“Hey!” you puffed out.

“Better watch ya’self” Daryl panted, trying to battle for possession of the ball which now had both of you fighting for it.

“Better watch your —” you grunted, holding him back with your forearm “— self!”

Just as you were getting the upper hand, Daryl used his arms to grab you and hastily shove you to the side. His touch set you ablaze.

As he began running again, you managed to hook your ankle around his own, effectively tripping him over.

As Daryl stumbled, you couldn’t help but burst into laughter, laughing harder when Daryl’s hand caught you behind your knee and he pulled you down with him. You felt an intense surge of electricity travel up your leg and remain at your lower navel.

Realising you were now trying to escape his grasp and army crawl towards the direction of the ball, Daryl swung himself from his side onto his stomach, scrambling to get a better hold of your slowly retreating legs.

Surprisingly, you managed to drag yourself another metre or so before Daryl got a proper grip on your thighs, his fingers heavily dimpling into the skin there. Laughter never dissipating, Daryl smiled to himself, having trapped you on the grass.

Twisting to lie on your back, you continued to squirm in Daryl’s solid grasp. You were able to sense every bend and every shape of every finger taking hold of your thighs. Daryl pushed himself up on his knees, now leaning over your squirming form.

“Ya shouldn’ta never told me ya’ were ticklish…” Daryl said quietly before he released your legs and started attacking your sides with his hands.

“NO!” you squealed, thrashing your body in an attempt to get away from Daryl’s large hands.

Daryl couldn’t help but be mesmerised by the way your eyes sparked with joy. Your tousled hair strewn all over the grass with the sun beating down on your tanned skin made you look otherworldly. Like an angel even his own imagination couldn’t conceptualise the beauty of, but was still here in front of him, seemingly reciprocating his affections.

You were laughing so much that you were gasping for air. Not wanting you to suffocate, Daryl slowly stopped his hands from moving and held them on your waist for a few seconds to allow you to get your bearings.

Staring into your eyes, he revelled at the softness beneath his fingertips. He focused on the small movements of your abdominal muscles beneath them, and watched your lips part as you pulled in heavy breath after heavy breath. His eyes were drawn to your lips once again as you wetted them with your tongue.

Moving your hands from above your head to softly grasp Daryl’s at your waist, you huffed a small laugh and gazed at him with wide eyes. You admired his boyish handsomeness.

“You. Are a prick.”

Daryl let escape a small snort of his own and shyly chewed his lip. “Only fer ya’ pretty girl…”

A small breeze picked up, slightly swaying the section of hair hanging from Daryl’s forehead. The way he was softly watching you made you want to pull him down to you and close the distance —

“Either play or get a room!”

“Yeah! Jesus Christ…”

The heat of the moment was ruined by a herd of teens resuming the play which you’d seemingly both forgotten all about.

Both realising the…compromising…position you both were in, the two of you abruptly pulled away from each other, both going equally red from embarrassment. The sounds of people hollering and some mildly inappropriate noises filled your ears, adding to the awkwardness.

“Oh my god…” you managed, sitting up and covering your face with your hands.

Daryl stood and offered you his hand which you sheepishly took. He waited until you looked at him before he gave you his half-smile, reserved only for you. You’d never admit it, but it always managed to make you melt.

“Ya’ actually ain’t that bad at soccer.”

You shook your head in jest. “Shut up.”

*I DO NOT give permission for my work to be used/adapted/copied in any way.*

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