#That Man Does Tings 2 Me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

st4rfckerz · 1 year

Text

car troubles | james kelly x reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, age gap, pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty girl etc), very brief dry humping, a lottt of banter, mention of masturbation, cockwarming (?), afab reader

summary: your neighbor james kelly fixes your car for you while you're home alone.

a/n: i lowkey don't like this fic 😭 but it's probably not as bad as i think it is, BUT hopefully you guys enjoy it more than me :)

it was a blessing and a curse for owning an old car. it was a curse since issues flared up so frequently, but it was also a blessing because it prompted your neighbor, james kelly, to fix it for free.

james was hunched over your car's hood, with a number of tools arranged next to him.

"i doubt this'll take long at all. you just have a dead battery, and maybe a few other mishaps but other than that your car is fine." james explains.

"sounds great. thanks again for fixing my car." you give him a friendly smile. james quickly returns the smile, followed by a small laugh.

"of course, you can always count on me for these kinds of things."

"noted." I fiddle with my fingers nervously before turning away.

"i'll just be inside so just come get me if you need anything."

"alright, will do"

he gives a small nod as he watches you disappear inside. his attention turns back to the vehicle.

ever since your family moved into your home when you were 15 years old, you'd always had a small crush on james. but after you entered college and spent so much time away from home, he had aimlessly plagued your thoughts.

you didn't mean for it to happen, but he just always managed to be the only person you'd think about when you're in bed by yourself. thinking about his tall frame, his long, slender fingers, and the way his arms would shine with sweat from fixing cars all day long always sent a flash of heat through your body.

some time passes and you hear a faint knocking at your back window, followed by the door creaking open just a tad.

"hey, she should be good to go now." he spoke to you as you sit at your kitchen island.

"that was quick, usually the shop takes like, 2 hours. i'm impressed." you chuckle. james gives you a smile and a shrug.

"no need to flatter me sweetheart, I've been doin' this forever."

a shortly lived tinge of arousal goes straight to your core after hearing the sudden petname. it always surprises you when he calls you something other than your name because he rarely ever does.

"if you want you could stay and rest for a little while." you had articulated the plan earlier that day of keeping him in your home while your parents were out, just to see where it would go.

"You wouldn't mind?" james' tired, weary expression lit up and he seemed more hopeful than he had in a while.

"I wouldn't be intruding on anything?" he nervously asked.

"not at all, it's just me here anyways. my dad's at work," you explain, flashing him an innocent smile.

"there's fresh lemonade in the fridge, and if you'd like you can use the shower, i know how hot it is outside."

james cleared his throat and looked over towards you.

"that'd be really nice, actually."

you didn't think it would be so easy to have such a smart man like james fall into your trap, but somehow it worked perfectly. he was in your house, and was about to use your shower. the only thing that was on your mind was simply how much of a genius you are.

"the bathroom's right upstairs, here i'll take you," he follows you upstairs and you lead him to the bathroom.

"there's the shower, soap, shampoo all that stuff." you explain as james stands awkwardly beside you.

"sounds good, thank you i really appreciate it." his voice sounds sincere and soft.

"its no problem really, take as long as you need, i'll just be in my room." you walk out the door before closing it behind you. soon, you hear the sounds of water running from the showerhead.

eventually, you hear the bathroom door open and a small cloud of steam escaping the doorway.

james spots you laying on your bed wearing tiny blue shorts, and a small white tee.

his mouth suddenly goes dry and millions of thoughts begin to swarm around in his mind.

how could you just lay there and look so perfect?

james has been a nervous wreck ever since he arrived at your house. he knew it was wrong to be so attracted to you because of the obvious age gap, but he just couldn't help himself.

he's seen you in so many ways, so many times; outside in the pool wearing nothing but a bikini, laying in the grass wearing your skimpy shorts and tank top casually trying to get a tan, he's even watched you change your clothes right in front of your bedroom window.

he always saved those mental images of you so he could fuck his fist later on.

james clears his throat and looks over at you, standing awkwardly at your doorway.

"oh hey." you smile. james glances over your room and notices your college flag plastered on your wall.

"college huh?" he points at the flag and begins walking towards your bed.

"yeah, I'm almost done actually." you reply sitting up and swinging your legs across the side of your bed.

"how much longer do you have?" he crosses his arms and leans against the wall.

"about 6 months? i'm so ready for it to be over," you sigh heavily.

"did you go to college?" you ask him.

"trade school." james nods

"i figured, you don't seem like you were the frat boy type." you joke.

james' face lights up in amusement as he laughs a little walking over to you. he decides to take a seat right next to you on your bed

"yeah... no. definitely not the frat boy type. never saw the appeal in them."

"me neither they can be obnoxious, can't stand them." you explain. an awkward silence stills before you both.

he looks at you, the corner of his mouth curling slightly in anticipation.

"you must have boyfriends back at college, don't you?" his slight change in tone and lift in confidence makes you a little nervous.

"oh no, i-i don't, college guys aren't really my...thing." you stutter. your gaze lingers on james, drinking his presence in.

his hair, still wet from the shower, glistened in the sunlight coming through the window. you could drool on the spot at the sight of his broad shoulders, muscles barely peeking out of from under his gray t-shirt.

"then what is your 'thing'." james shifts his body to face you more.

you shrug and shake your head.

"i don't know, i guess i just always went for older guys." you confess. you knew it was slightly obvious what you were suggesting but it was now or never.

a sly smirk appears on james' face before speaking again.

"really?"

"always have." you look down at your legs quickly. the way james was staring at made you feel like you were on fire.

"do you like anyone in particular?" james was itching at some kind of answer that could miraculously allude to himself.

"that's confidential." you try to avoid looking at him so he doesn't see the obvious blush spread across your cheeks.

"right, right." james had a small grin on his face as you revealed the answer.

he was almost giddy with joy. he knew what he wanted to hear, but he never expected you still had feelings for him.

"it's dumb, i know," a wave of embarrassment rushes through your body and you immediately regret admitting something so elementary.

"i'm sorry if it bothers you i don't-" james cuts you off

"it doesn't bother me."

"it doesn't?" james shakes his head and smiles slightly.

"no, does it bother you?"

"no." he begins leaning towards you slowly and your brain shuts down completely.

james was close enough to feel your breath as you spoke. his face was a few inches away from yours, and he was looking straight into your eyes.

there was a long pause for a moment. It was as if james thought you were gonna do something.

his voice was a little quiet as he spoke his next words.

"good."

james finally closes the gap between you and presses his lips softly against yours.

a tingle went up his spine as your lips came into contact with his. he had never anticipated this, but it felt different. it felt right.

his hand reached to touch your face and he pulled you in closer slowly, your bodies connecting more and more as he leaned into you.

the kiss deepens and a small whimper erupts in your throat.

james noticed the noise you made and smiles against your lips. his big hands grab your thighs and pulls you onto his lap.

he gently pulled you closer to his body again, his arm wrapped around your waist, and his other arm reached to caress your body as both of your lips touched.

james' lips connect to your neck, nipping at the skin along your jawline.

you moan slightly and subconsciously rut your hips against his.

he let out a groan as he gently broke the embrace to look at you.

"needy girl." he teases.

james grabs your hips and moves them harder against his center. he began kissing your neck as you rested in the position he held you in.

you feel his hand suddenly slip into your underwear.

"oh, sweetheart," james breathes out. he could feel how wet and needy you were for him

a pathetic whine escapes your lips as his finger draws antagonizingly slow circles around your clit.

"james please, i need you." the words that escaped your lips sent a jolt of electricity through his body.

he kept kissing your neck, his hand slither up your shirt, caressing and pinching at your nipples.

your words sent him over the edge and he let out a soft groan.

you needed so much more than his single finger. you mindlessly began to toy with the waistband of his pants, itching to just rip them off of him completely.

james was more than ready to let your hands do there work, as he lifted up his hips slightly.

"can i take these off?" james asks you softly, he begins pushing your shorts down your thighs.

you nod your head quickly and discard your shorts along with your shirt leaving you only in your underwear.

james' eyes shoot straight down to your chest.

"so perfect for me," he coos as he quickly latches his mouth onto one of your nipples, soon leaving little purple bruises on them. your eyes squeeze shut as you feel his tongue flicking against the bud.

the sound of a belt hitting the ground makes you jump slightly.

"i can't wait any longer." james mutters against your lips before pressing his mouth against yours.

his fast hands move your underwear to the side.

the feeling of his cock finally entering your dripping hole made your head fall onto his shoulder and a long breathy moan fall from your lips.

you can feel james' body shudders under you.

"oh, fuck," james waits a few seconds before finally thrusting upwards, moving your hips to meet his simultaneously.

the sound of yours and james' moans followed by the slight slapping of skin filled the air of your bedroom.

"you feel so good baby, so good for me."

if james kept speaking to you in that velvety tone you were sure that you were gonna cum a lot quicker than expected.

your mind was completely empty, not a single thought popped into your brain.

that was soon interrupted by the sound of your cellphone.

"it's my dad." you tell james urgently but he continues to litter your neck with small kisses and bites.

"answer it."

you stare at him blankly, the annoying ringtone still erupting from your phone.

your fingers hesitate for a moment before accepting the call and pressing your phone up to your ear.

"hey dad." you try to stiffle a moan as james begins thrusting up into you again.

it was so difficult trying to contain your moans while still trying to have a conversation with your dad.

"yeah, james came over mm-" your hand flies to your mouth.

you could feel james smirk against your neck as he continues to thrust into you at a faster pace.

"no-sorry, it was a cough."

he was relentless with his hunger for you, and didn't want to keep it at bay.

"be quiet baby, we don't need daddy hearing how good i'm making you feel hm?"

his voice was suddenly filled with a deep and lustful tone, but you loved it.

james heard the talking from your phone but it didn't distract him, it only sent a tinge of excitement in his heart.

he let his hands to roam all over your body, causing goosebumps to spread all over your body.

"he did a great job, the car...the car should be ok now."

your dad just kept talking. completely oblivious to what was happening on the other side of the phone.

james grins widely and let out a quiet moan, feeling your pussy squeeze around him.

his lips left your neck and he let his head lean back on the headboard. he didn't even stop his advances as he heard your dad talking. he just enjoyed seeing you try your hardest to stay quiet as he abused your cunt.

your dad finally says his goodbyes after asking a million questions regarding james' visit and you have never felt so relieved.

"that was a close one." james chuckled.

you let out an exasperated laugh, still not able to fully function. especially now that his fingers begin rubbing furiously at your clit, causing you to moan louder and buck your hips harder against his.

"j-james..." your body was shaking uncontrollably. that familiar not began to form in your stomach and fiery heat began to spread through your legs.

"you gonna cum for me pretty girl?" he taunts.

your face contorts in pleasure as you try to muster up any words that come to mind.

"m'so close-"

"i know baby i know, me too." the grip he has on your thighs grows firmer and his nails begin to dig harshly into your skin.

"come on sweetheart, give it to me." james thrusts harder into you, swiftly hitting your sweet spot everytime.

your walls clench around his cock as you cum, earning a loud, throaty groan from james. his warm seed coats your insides, leaving you feeling full and absolutely satisfied.

"there you go," james coaxes you through your orgasm.

james felt your sweat covered body collapse onto his and he kissed your forehead softly.

he kept his arms wrapped around your back, holding you close to him.

"are you okay?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth after a moment.

"mhm, m'ok" you flash james a tired smile.

he slowly opened his eyes as well and kissed your forehead. he let out another sigh as his arms were still wrapped around you.

then he spoke again, his voice filled with curiosity.

"so...what did your dad want to talk about?" he asked softly, still laying back on the bed with you on top of him.

"he was just asking if you had already come over and everything," you let out a snort.

"i definitely came." you look up at james to see a cocky smile across his face.

"stop," you giggle and slap his arm playfully.

"he also mentioned that he would be staying an extra hour at work."

james' demeanor shifted once you told him the good news of your dad staying longer at work.

"good," james leaned forward and kissed you again, grabbing your hand and pulled you down to the bed.

his hands slowly traveled down to your thighs, and he caressed it slightly before pulling your legs apart and situating himself in between them.

"because i'm not done with you yet."

#nai writes ୨୧ #james kelly #james kelly x reader #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #anakin skywalker

1K notes · View notes

gothcsz · 18 days

Note

imagine pornstar javi having an only fans 😩

girl i'd subscribe so fast

oh hell yeah nonnie, me too... top subscriber, working 3 jobs just to support this sexy man. who's with me?! 🙂‍↕️ tagging @miss-oranje-disco-dancer & @almostempty because duhhh 🖤 i hope i did this justice!

tags: f!reader, smut babes, onlyfans!javi let's gooo, he talks you through it, dirty talk duh, masturbation (f&m), use of pet names (doll, baby, sweetheart, muñeca, bella), roleplaying (?), i have no idea how OF works so just vibe with me, everyone say thank you to your bestie, unbeta'd, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx. ~ 3.1k w/c

p.s. if you’re into pornstar!javi you should check this out 🖤

look at how yummy this dick is 👀

You frown as you read the message preview sent from your best friend. Your eyes flit up to check the time.

It’s barely past two in the morning. Does this bitch ever sleep? Granted— you’re also up late.

You tap on the notification before it disappears, going into your message thread with her and you see the link attached to her horny message.

why are you sending me unsolicited dick pics at 2 am? what would your man think of this?

She replies right away.

first of all i don’t have a man second of all it’s a video and just please go watch it

You’re confused by that first message since she was just raving about this guy she met at her job but you let it go, tapping on the link and waiting for safari to open it up.

The OnlyFans website loads and prompts you to log in before continuing. You go back to your messages.

tabling the i don’t have a man convo for another time can’t see it because i don’t have an account

She’s quick to send you her log in and you laugh out loud— of course she’s a registered user.

You type in her email and password, patiently waiting before the post she sent you loads and your eyes widen.

Just the thumbnail has you intrigued. A man, dressed in a tailored navy suit sans the jacket and tie, the fabric of his white collared shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and chest, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

The title reads: Late Night at the Office.

The transparent play button teases you, almost daring you to give in to the intrigue.

So you tap it.

It begins with the mystery man seated, the frame capturing him from the tip of his strong nose down to the top of his thighs. His features are striking from what you can see— plump, pink lips framed by a neatly trimmed mustache, adding a hint of rugged sophistication to his appearance.

His legs are spread wide, unapologetically taking up space, the rich leather of the chair creaking subtly beneath him. His thighs strain against the fabric of his suit pants.

There’s something about the way he sits, so sure of himself, so confident in his own skin, that draws your eye immediately to the center of the frame. One hand rests lazily on his thigh, the other cradles a phone, as if he’s deep into an intimate call. His eyes, though hidden, seem locked on you through the screen, pulling you deeper into his fantasy.

And then, he speaks.

“Have to stay late, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

His voice slides through the speakers of your phone like liquid velvet— deep and smooth, carrying an accent that’s definitely southern but tinged with something else, wrapping itself around each word like a caress.

“Don’t be upset, doll. Let me make it up to you.”

His tone is gentle but authoritative, luring you in. The air feels charged, and despite the fact that you’re watching from behind a screen, it feels as though his words are meant for you and you alone.

“Why don’t you undress for me and lean back,” the command is soft yet irresistible.

Your breath catches in your throat, a soft gasp you weren’t expecting, as your thighs instinctively press together beneath the plush comforter, seeking some form of relief from the growing ache.

It’s as if he has some kind of power over you, the pull in his voice coaxing you into compliance. Your skin prickles with anticipation as you glance around your quiet studio apartment, almost instinctively checking if anyone might be watching; like your best friend who lured you into this horny trap in the first place.

But of course, there’s no one else here— just you and his low, hypnotic voice filling the space around you.

You pause it, antsy fingers reaching for the hem of your nighttime slip dress, the soft fabric sliding effortlessly off your skin then being tossed aside. Propping your phone up with a decorative pillow at the edge of the bed, you angle it so you’re able to see him perfectly.

You feel a rush of warmth, excitement, as you resume the video and settle back against the mountain of pillows behind you.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, baby,” he murmurs, his tone low and husky, the faintest edge of a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “Can’t stop picturing you, lying in bed… all warm and soft, just waiting for me to take care of you.”

Your lips part instinctively, tongue grazing the corner as you feel the pull of lust tightening in your core. Your nipples, already taut from the cool air in your space, ache for attention.

You shift, thighs rubbing together again, unable to stop your body’s response. His voice feels like it’s seeping directly into your skin, making it impossible to sit still.

“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he orders so tenderly and impossible to refuse. “Slowly, sweetheart. Just run your fingers over those soft thighs of yours… don’t rush.”

You obey, hands traversing down the length of your torso until they’re at your thighs, fingertips grazing your skin lightly as you follow his instructions. Your breath hitches again, heart beating louder in your ears as his voice continues to weave around you, wrapping you in the intimacy of the moment.

“That’s it,” he purrs, “Let me hear those little gasps. I want you to think of my hands doing that for you. Think of me sliding my fingers up and down your beautiful body… teasing you.”

And so you do. You think of his larger, surely rougher touch at your inner thighs. The growing pressure at the apex of your legs builds with every syllable, but it’s not just his voice that has you derailing.

It’s everything.

As the camera lingers on him, you watch his free hand move to the top button of his shirt. His fingers work with deliberate precision as he undoes it then the ones that follow. His movements are slow, taunting you as the shirt falls open, exposing the smooth, muscled lines of his chest.

“You want to see more, don’t you?” he asks the camera, and the teasing edge in his voice makes your clit twitch. “I’ll show you, baby. But you need to keep touching yourself for me. I want you to feel how wet I get you. Imagine me right there, taking care of that aching little cunt of yours.”

He’s intoxicating, and as he slips another button open, revealing more of his firm, toned chest, you slip your hand to your pussy, your body begging for more. You can almost feel the heat of his skin against yours, the way he’s undressing for you, the slow reveal of what you’re aching to see.

He’s unhurried, intentional— he knows exactly what he’s doing, how to keep you, the viewer, on edge.

“Let me hear you,” he commands, fingers grazing his buckle now, threatening to undo his belt. “Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me how badly you want me to touch you… how much you need me.”

His words have a gush of arousal leaking from your cunt, a whine pushing past your lips as you lightly run a finger down the seam of your folds.

“Need you so bad,” you murmur to yourself, not caring that there’s no one there to hear you, no one in the room but the phantom of his presence. He’s completely transported you into another world, and you’re too far gone to feel any shame in talking to him as if he’s right there in front of you— or over the phone with how he’s set this scene up.

All he’s done is talk, but it’s enough to render you a puddled mess. The heat licking at your core is undeniable, each instruction winding you tighter.

You can’t help but wonder— are you really this starved for a good fuck, or is this faceless stranger just that skilled at weaving desire into every syllable?

His deep, commanding tone oozes with intention, a carefully crafted tease that seeps through the screen. It’s clear he’s an expert at this— at knowing exactly how to pull you in and leave you aching for more. Now, your curiosity is piqued; what other sinful content could he possibly have on his page?

It suddenly makes perfect sense why your friend is subscribed to him. The moment you come, you know you’ll be rushing to make an account of your own, no hesitation, ready to drain your bank account if it means getting more of him— every cent worth it just to see what else he can do to you.

He’s catering to something raw, drawing out a fantasy you didn’t even realize you had.

“I need you just as bad. Real fuckin’ shame I’m stuck at the office… my cock misses you, sweetheart.”

Your breath quickens as the clink of his belt being undone echoes through the speaker, slipping the leather free from its loops, and you catch a glimpse of the outline of his dick, thick and prominent beneath the tailored slacks.

The sight sends a surge of heat through your body, your skin prickling with desire, yearning for more.

His fingers toy with the waistband of his pants now, brushing tantalizingly close to the bulge straining against the fabric, teasing both you and himself with the promise of what’s to come.

His voice is low and seductive, dripping like molten honey, each word striking you like a touch.

“I wish I could be in bed with you right now,” he grunts, and you swear you can feel his eyes locked on you through the screen, as if he can see every inch of your trembling body. “You have no idea how badly I want to worship you… feel your skin against mine. I’d start slow. My lips, my hands, they’d be everywhere. I’d make you come so many times it’d make you stupid.”

You moan, finally dipping two of your fingers between your wet folds and massaging at your clit, spreading your slick all over.

“Go head, play with that pretty little pussy. Use your other hand to touch on those perfect fuckin’ tits of yours.”

Your free hand instinctively goes up to cup your breast as you imagine him there with you, his body pressing you into the mattress, lips tracing over every inch until he’s suckling on your pert nipples then moving down to where you need him most.

“I want to taste you,” he continues, his fingers popping the button of his pants then the zipper, “Feel you quivering on my tongue, feel you melt on my fingers as I fuck them into that tight cunt. I won't stop until you’re shaking, begging me to let you breathe.”

His hand slips beneath the fabric as he shifts in his seat, and you can see the subtle movements of him touching himself. The sight alone takes your breath away, the need coiling inside you, growing unbearable as your own fingers pick up the pace, rubbing the sensitive flesh while your other hand works to pinch and tug at your nipple.

“And when I finally break you, sweetheart,” he whispers, sending shivers all throughout your body, “when you’re crying, trembling… pleading me to stop, that’s when I’ll slide my cock inside. You’d be so full, so wet, and I wouldn’t stop until I’ve reminded you who you belong to, until I’ve had you again and again. Until you’re stuffed so full of my cum that it’s leaking out of your fuckin’ mouth.”

He finally pulls his dick out and you gasp loudly. It’s fucking beautiful. Thick, long, a few shades lighter than the brown skin of his chest with a glistening pearl of precum right at his slit. He spreads it around the crown of his cock and you salivate, imagining how good the weight of him would feel on your tongue.

Yummy in-fucking-deed.

“Fuck yourself on your fingers baby, then stick two into your pretty mouth and suck on them.”

You do as you’re told, sinking two into your fluttering entrance while the ones at your tit slip into your mouth, eyes fluttering close as you suck on them like they’re his cock. It feels so good, your thumb pressed up against your clit— the stickiness of your arousal aiding your fingers in pumping in and out of you.

The sound of him spitting snaps you from the mini daze, pulling your attention lazily back to the screen. There he is— his large hand wrapped tightly around the thick length of his cock, glistening and throbbing as he begins to stroke it languidly.

“Got me so hard,” he grunts, his voice thick with lust, “just picturing you with your fingers in your mouth like a good little slut.” His grip on the phone by his ear tightens, you can tell by the way his knuckles become flushed and you whimper.

“Choke on them,” he growls, “Let me hear you gag.”

Obedient as ever, you push your digits past your tongue and deeper, your breath growing ragged. The moment they hit the back of your throat, you gag, the wet sound loud and raw in the quiet of your apartment.

You sputter around them repeatedly, eyes filling with tears. Choking sounds echoing off the walls, bouncing back at you in a symphony of depravity. Saliva pools in then out of your mouth, dripping down your chin, and the mess of it only heightens the filthy pleasure coursing through you.

You can feel how slick you are, the sheets beneath you now damp from your horniness, every fiber of your being aching for release.

His pace on the screen quickens, the sound of his bated breath mingles with the obscene smacking of his fist against the skin of his cock, grunting between strokes. His dick looks even bigger as it pulses in his grip, thick and veined and covered in his spit.

“Bet you’re dripping for me,” his words are strained. “I can just picture it… how wet you are, soaking those sheets. Can’t wait to hear you come undone for me, baby.”

Your fingers, still wet from the mess of your mouth, slide down your body, grazing over your hard nipples before switching with the ones between your legs, where your pussy is throbbing. You moan at your own heady taste, the relief of your saliva soaked digits in your cunt almost overwhelming.

The tension builds, every stroke of his hand matching the movement of your fingers, the friction pushing you closer to the edge.

“Ahhh yesyesyes— just like that.” You whine, removing your fingers from your mouth and bringing them down to your nipples again to pinch and pull; anything to heighten the already intense pleasure you’re feeling.

The room feels thick with sexual tension, the filthy sounds of your wetness mix with his groans through the speakers, creating an intoxicating melody that pushes you further into your own climax.

“I’d have your pussy stretched out so good,” he continues, hand tightening around his cock as he pumps faster now, thrusting his hips upwards. “Have you feeling me for days… filling your sweet cunt until all you can do is squirt all over this cock.”

The things you’d do to make that happen. To have him bend and twist and fuck you in a myriad of pleasurable positions. To feel the thickness of his dick leaving you sore and hurting, absolutely helpless. These desires send you careening toward the edge.

“C’mon baby, give it to me.”

Your fingers move faster, abusing your cunt as your hips buck into your hand. Your breath comes in short, desperate gasps as your whole body tightens.

You can feel it coming, that sweet rush of pleasure towering over you, until it crashes down in a wave so intense, you cry out.

“Oh fuck!”

You spasm, back arching off the bed as your digits do all the right moves, chasing the high. In a flood of pure ecstasy, your pussy pulses and clenches, a gush of wetness soaking the sheets as you come hard, giving in to the overwhelming euphoria.

Drool leaks from your mouth like a feral animal, your chest heaving, and your eyes lock on the screen, pupils dilated, watching as he strokes himself through his own climax, his voice thick with satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he breathes, his cock twitching in his hand, thick ropes of his milky cum spilling over his fist as he finishes. “Made a mess all over my lap. Wish you were here to lick it up. Getting to feel that wicked tongue of yours on my spent cock would be like fucking heaven, mi muñeca bella.”

Just when you thought he couldn’t get any fucking sexier; he goes and speaks fucking Spanish. You’re in love.

You’re left exhausted, trembling, and utterly satisfied. Your body hums with the aftershocks, still riding the wave of your orgasm, and all you can do is lie there.

Your fingers lazily tracing the wet mess between your thighs, hissing at the sensitivity, as you catch your breath, the screen flickering with his smirking lips.

“I’ll be home soon,” he purrs, “Take a nap so I can wake you up by burying my tongue inside that used pussy.”

A shiver runs down your spine, and you let out a frustrated sigh, wishing— desperately— that this wasn’t just a video, but reality. A real call from a real man, someone who could be on their way to you right now. You stare at his disheveled, post-climax appearance on the screen for a moment longer before the video fades out, the last remnants of fantasy slowly dissolving as you blink yourself back to reality.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, muscles still quivering, and bend down to pick up your slip dress, your legs wobbly as you walk to the bathroom to clean up.

oh my fucking god that was amazing

You text your friend once you’re back in bed, having pulled off the loose sheet that you ruined and thankful that it didn’t seep through to the fitted one.

right? i need him so bad you should see some of his other stuff. fucking gold you’re welcome 💋

You scoff, a breathy laugh, as you ‘HAHA’ react to her message. Still, her words stick with you as you open the browser, logging out of her account. The curiosity from before tugs at you harder than ever now, and without a second thought, you find yourself signing up for your own subscription.

When the prompt to choose a username appears, you hesitate, fingers hovering over the keyboard until a sly smile spreads across your lips.

@muneca_bella

Perfect.

#javier pena smut #javier peña smut #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal smut #💌 you’ve got mail!#kat's writing.

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sunshinelollipopsicle · 3 months

Text

Glad You Came

♡ masterlist - request!

♡ pairing - harry styles x fem!reader

♡ summary - during a love on tour concert, you happen to get tickets with your friend front row, throughout the performance you happen to catch his eye (Part 2) (Part 3)

♡ warnings - fluff

♡ w/c - 1.2k

♡ a/n - i need ideas for him 😓

You had always been a fan of Harry Styles, since the start of One Direction. Who wouldn't be? He was extremely handsome, sweet, and overall just a comfort person for you.

When he released his third album, Harry's House, and soon after announced he was going on tour, you had took the chance to purchase tickets.

Although you are rather fearful of being alone in big events, and so you bought an extra ticket for your friend who liked some of his songs as well.

After closing your laptop, you run over to the couch so you can tell your friend about the concert. You click on her contact and bring the phone to your ear as it rings. After a few seconds she picks up and you hear her voice, "Hey! What's up?"

"Guess who just bought two tickets to Harry Styles' Love on Tour concert!"

"You didn't."

"I did! It's in two weeks, so we can go shopping to get our outfits some day this week, if that works for you."

"It does, text me when you wanna go! Thank you so much for the ticket, love you."

"Love you too, bye."

The next two weeks went by painfully slow, since you only had the concert on your mind. But finally the day has come, and you couldn't be happier.

You woke up around noon today, not surprising considering you usually sleep late. To pass the time until later today, you invited your friend over, cooked your lunch while listening to Harry's music, did each other's nails, and watched a movie.

Finally you two decided to get ready, so you took a shower and your friend did afterwards, both wearing fluffy robes. She brought her outfit with her, and yours was in your closet. You both laid the clothes out on your bed and both started to do your own hair.

Next, you both did your makeup and then finally put on your outfits. Your friend comes out from the bathroom to where you were putting on your jewelry. You were wearing a glittery skirt that was red and a white tube top with some small red hearts, and red and white converse. You had hoop earrings in and your hair was down.

A short while later you two get in your car and you start driving to the stadium, giddy as ever from excitement. After about an hour of driving, you arrive and get out of the car to walk to the entrance.

You have to wait in a long line before they check your tickets and give you two light up bracelets. They let you in and you hold hands as you walk to your spots right in front of the stage. You two chat about random stuff waiting for the show to begin.

After a bit, the openers come out and soon enough the man himself, Harry Styles, comes out jumping around the stage. You two yell with everyone else in the stadium and jump along with the people around you.

He starts with Music For a Sushi Restaurant, singing and dancing, most people including yourself doing the same. He looks around at the crowd smiling into the microphone, and soon enough his eyes fall on you. He momentarily stutters on the lyric and quickly looks away. On the big screens with the cameras following him on stage you're able to see a light pink tinge form on his cheeks.

You're snapped out of staring by your friend who grabs your arms jumping. "Did you see that! He wants you," she squeals.

"Calm down! He probably was looking at someone behind us," you shrug, but you hoped he had been looking at you.

Throughout the show he wonders to himself what a girl such as yourself is doing at a silly little show like his. He tries to steal glances at you, but ends up getting distracted a few more times than he would like.

When he finishes the song Daylight, he takes a few minutes to interact with some fans, having funny conversations and reading their signs.

He then comes over to where you are and crouches on the stage, laughing at how your friend hits your arm a few times.

"What's your name, love?" Harry speaks into the microphone. He watches as you tilt your head and point to yourself, as to say 'me?' Cute, he thinks to himself. "Yes, you!"

You blush and say your name, to which he replies, "Gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl." The crowd starts to yell and you find your hands sweating from the attention and seeing yourself on the big screens.

You thank him and he stands up and winks, jogging to the end of the stage where a guard is as the intro to the next song begins. He speaks into the man's ear, "You saw that girl I just spoke to? The pretty one in the red skirt?" The man nods, "Please take her backstage before she has the chance to leave, her friend may also come if she wants to." The man nods once again and Harry pats his back with a smile and thanks him.

He continues to perform and some time later the show comes to an end, unfortunately for everyone there. You and your friend are tired from yelling the songs and standing around. You two wait some time for a decent amount of the crowd to leave so it isn't too packed while you try to exit.

Before you two can leave, you spot a security guard making his way towards you two. "Excuse me, it was requested that you both follow me backstage, if you wish to, of course."

"Yes! She does wish to," your friend pushes you slightly forward.

You laugh nervously, "But-"

The man speaks up, "A ride home will also be provided if necessary."

Your friend smiles and pats your shoulder, "Go, I can take the car back to your house and then go home, you go back there and have the best time, then call me and tell me everything!"

"Are you sure? I can come home with-"

"No. I'll get going now, see you!" She waves and turns around, you watch her walk away and turn to the man again, "So.. how are you?"

He smiles, "Great, thank you. Follow me this way."

You follow him and go behind some curtains and he brings you to a big empty room with some couches, a TV, a table with snacks, and some other stuff that makes it more comfortable.

"Wait in here and someone will be with you shortly."

"Okay, thank you."

He nods and walks out of the room and you find yourself roaming the room, looking at stuff to pass the time. Before you know it the door opens and you jump and turn towards it.

Your jaw drops when Harry walks into the room, closing it behind him. "Hello," he says a little nervously. "I apologize if I made you nervous or scared before."

You shake your head, "Not at all! Well, maybe, but no harm done."

He smiles, "Great. If you're wondering why you're back here, it's because I was hoping to get to know you better, if that's alright with you."

You walk a little closer towards him, fingers locking behind your back out of your nervous habit, but smile anyway, "That's more than alright, I would love to know you better too."

"'Course. Let's start now, shall we?" Harry points to the couch, and you follow him as he takes a seat. He looks up, staring for a moment, and sticks out his hand, "My name is Harry Styles."

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry edward styles #love on tour #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x fem!reader #laugh on tour #live on tour #harry styles concert #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluffy fanfic

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velvetures · 1 year

Text

Vulnerable pt.2

A/N: Due to everyone's love for the first installment, here's a continuation! It's not full NS/FW to "completion", however, a third post will finish up the little mini-series if part two does well enough. Summary: After getting Ghost to release his tensions after a harsh mission, you're surprised to see how far things go. Ghost is just as shocked. TW's: sexual content NS/FW 18+ ONLY, fem reader, cursing, sexual thoughts, intimacy, not proofread. If I missed something... let me know.

Read Part One Here

Ghost’s eyes flicker in the dim light with something you’ve never seen before. It’s similar to the pain you’ve seen on his face when trying to nurse a stab or gunshot wound. Tinged around the edges with a panic and cracked lines of desperation. For such a strong and self-proclaimed heartless man, his eyes show so much deeper a story. One that calls out happily at the idea of keeping you close to him like this. Interested. Much more than he’d ever felt before.

“If you want to, we could lay down?” You suggest gently, looking at the bed and then back to him. “I’ll keep going.”

Those silently expressive eyes shift all over again. “Yes.”

You stay still, allowing him to choose the pace and tone of this. Wanting him comfortable and feeling safe with you. All of it could stop the second he made it clear, but for some reason, you really couldn’t understand why the Lieutenant was letting you in. And it wasn’t because you were massaging his back. Twisting his lower half onto the bed, Ghost shifted until settled down on the bed on his back, totally open to you. In his relaxed position, you can feel how the invisible magnets between you shift from pushing forces to pulling ones. Body heat radiating off of him and his steady breaths almost acted like a sleeping pill for you as you laid down next to him, careful not to edge into his personal space.

“How would you like to lay?” His eyes wander over your face softly as you question him; head leaning to the side to get a full look at you resting next to him with your messy hair and t-shirt with little holes dotting alone the stretched-out collar. Ghost couldn’t help but realize how pretty you looked right now with your little smile and glowing skin illuminated in the yellow light. It doesn’t take a lot of thought before he gives a very quick and confident answer.

“Facing you.” His dark eyes study you for a response.

One he fears will be hesitation or discomfort. Fuck, maybe even fear. You’d seen him do things even hell would shudder at, yet you always came to him bearing a trusting and happy disposition. Being covered in blood, sand, sweat or mud never deterred you from walking right up to him like some lost little puppy hoping someone would find it cute enough to take home. Genuinely it bothered him. Why do you overlook the danger he presented. How you could be so fucking pleasant and calm in almost every situation you were thrown into. Something he’d been angrily dismissing as nothing more than a passing trend until you really got to know him as well as others had. Yet nothing changed. In fact, you appeared almost excited at the prospect and wiggled yourself into what he assumed was a more comfortable position on your side with one arm propped up under your head.

Ghost shifts himself onto his side with a small grunt, getting into an equally comfortable position that closes a bit more distance between you both. If you had mentioned it, his excuse would’ve fallen somewhere along the lines of you having short arms and that he was only accommodating your size. Nothing could pry the truth that he just liked being close to you out of his mouth. Days in the desert hadn’t nearly touched you. Sure you were a little rough around the edges without time to redo your hair or do any of the other small things… But damn you still looked pretty. With so little space between you, he could smell how sweet you were too. Not that fake shit women always put too much of on. You smelled right. Like a woman ought to. Natural, and… maybe a little on the salty side. It meant you’d been busting your ass in the field, and that thought alone gave Ghost a bit of a shiver as he inhaled deeply.

Face-to-mask with just a little more than a couple inches between you, the closeness felt comforting, reassuring. Ghost at ease, getting to take his time admiring all of the small things he’d never thought to appreciate, while you revel in such a strange yet lucky opportunity to watch him practically melt into the bed all because of your touches and soft words. Perhaps it’s because of all his walls coming crashing down that you’re able to begin trailing your fingertips over his arm. You worked from his wrist to his bicep then over and down onto his ribs, feeling the texture of burns and scars and the small raised edges of tattoos sunk into his skin.

Ghost lets out a low, soft, moan as your hands glide over his stomach. There’s a softness in his eyes as he looks directly at you, blinking innocently like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. He’s so eager yet nervous for any sort of attention, and while you have no intention of stopping, you’re careful to not move too quickly. His breath increasing under your hand is a good enough indication that he was feeling something, and strongly, at that.

“More,” he breathes out, nearly panting with his one hand fisting at the sheets under him.

He’s starting to shake inside. Tingling on every surface you touch and fighting back the desperate urge to just make an observed amount of noise with just how much he likes this. It’s been so long since anyone had touched him so intimately. The overstimulation was nearly enough to make his eyes roll back in his head. Yet he swallowed thickly, willing himself to act as normally as possible. For fuck’s sake you hadn’t done anything that should reduce him to such a pathetic excuse of a man on the edge of anticipation waiting to see where you’d touch him next. You made it even harder when you looked up at him with a smile and raised eyebrows.

“Can I try something?”

He can’t nod quick enough, watching those eyes of yours light up. He shivers as your attention moves upwards to the hem of his mask, toying with it a little before tracing long lines from the base of his throat all the way up to his jaw. Working to trace out the shapes and planes of his face under the thin material. It makes him quiver and tighten his fist around the sheets in his hand. Without thinking, he moves his other arm to wrap around your waist tightly and pulls you the rest of the way against him with a small growl of lost patience. Ghost wanted you close, but god you were just too sweet to do it on your own. And with your body heat scalding against his bare skin, he gives a pinched sigh, eyes fluttering closed with you still rubbing his face.

“This okay?” He whispers lowly, his arm still wrapped around you and his hand pressed flat against the deep sway of your lower back; thumb rubbing over your belt loop absentmindedly. Hearing your soft sigh pours over his mind like thick honey in tea.

“Of course, it is,” Your hand curls around the edge of his jaw reassuringly. “You can touch me back if you’d like to.” You offer, reaching behind him to trace a line up his spine. Ghost’s eyes open at your invitation, his gaze -heavy- but fixed on you. His body tenses ever so slightly as you ask. Then, he closes them again and a small hidden smile crosses his lips.

“Yeah…” He answers at a mere whisper.

He moves his hand from its resting place and moves it to the swell of your hip, running it over your waist, fingers lazily catching the edge of your shirt and rolling it up enough that his fingertips brush against your bare skin in a soft gesture. You sense his nervousness in the slight shake of his hands, unsure of where to go, but fighting with the desire to touch everything at least once. Like he’s terrified he won’t get another chance but doesn’t want to scare you away from him either. His arm moves upwards, his hand coming to the side of your face; fingers smoothing back a couple of stray hairs and running across your head. Mentally you stutter for a moment, your arm draped over his side and your hand on his back stilling. Enraptured with Ghost’s rough hand touching you carefully. Treating you no differently than a bomb ready to go off at the slightest wrong move. So gently his thumb brushes over your cheekbone, hearing a tender sigh from under his mask.

“That feels good,” You whisper, lips brushing against the edge of his palm.

An answer doesn’t come, but you can see him nod his head. You can almost picture his smile as his fingers continue to run through your hair, twisting the strands around his fingers and pulling slightly before repeating the motion over again. Lacing his hand closer and closer to you with every soft touch. Ghost can’t help himself from tracing down the curve of your back again. Absorbing the comfort of your breath fanning over his chest and his hands getting to truly feel every inch of you he never even thought about touching, let alone actually laying next to you this close and feeling your smooth skin under his calloused palms. Experience in this kind of thing was as foreign to Ghost as the idea of working a nine-to-five at some office building typing on a computer or attending one o’clock meetings for a budget report. While that sounded mind-numbing enough to blast his own brains out…. he still felt like he’d have a better grip on living a life like that more so than he did lying next to you…

So fucking pretty always smiling like that.

He feels you lean even closer, resting your head against his bare chest and sinking deeper into the bed. Allowing him total freedom to do what he wished. If you could purr, he imagined you’d sound no different than a little kitten tucked inside someone’s shirt, kneading its paws into your skin. Ghost did smile widely this time, moving just enough to unbind his other arm out from under himself and curl it around your head to toy with the extremely soft strands right at the nape of your neck while the other rubbed at the dimples he felt in the small of your back.

You moan softly when his strong fingers squeeze at the back of your neck, rubbing in circles just at the back of your head to mimic the same technique you used on him earlier. Ghost was a quick study, but having large enough hands to practically scruff you with only one made it easier. Muffled in his chest, it didn’t come out nearly as deep and unrestrained as you’d actually been, yet you didn’t miss the slight shake of Ghost’s chest as he chuckled darkly. Proud that he’d elicited such a response, and already moving his hands more confidently to try and find somewhere else he could touch to make you repeat the noise.

“Does that feel good?” His voice pours over your ears like the bourbon he drinks, flooding your mind with a hazy and warm feeling.

Nodding your head to answer, his thumb runs lightly over your jaw again, this time squeezing affectionately. The Lieutenant on the other hand is relying far too much on his mask to keep his mounting excitement under control. Biting back an instinct to be rougher and see what other sounds you could make for him. Wrestling against the want to fully remove your shirt to see if you felt this soft everywhere. Suddenly hungry and hardly masking it. When you feel him suck in a harsh breath, you look up to see his eyes resting firmly on yours. A silent question lingers in the inch or two gap between your faces. His chest rises and falls quickly, anticipatory.

Swallowing the fucking childish nervousness clawing at his throat he finally speaks. “Should I?”

“I’d like if you did.” You whisper back, looking between his eyes and the painted teeth of his mask where you’ve pictured his lips being. Hoping. Praying. Fucking begging whatever beings could be in the sky above that you’d understood what he was asking for. That he’d give you so much more than you ever expected or dreamed of.

The Lieutenant’s eyes lock onto your mouth, and you can actually hear the thick swallow and deep breath he takes. A moment of anticipation that he couldn’t help but close his eyes for, bringing his masked face closer and closer. No more than a breath away, he can smell your hair and it makes him freeze. Quickly overwhelmed and unsure of how to move forward. So in the depth of his own mind, the presence of his mask still covering his whole lower face escapes his attention. You’re calm enough to help him, reaching between you and lifting the hem of his mask just enough to uncover his lips; Carefully resting the mask on the wide bridge of his nose.

You see deep scars -old and new- all over his lower face. Two of them cut over his lips in wide slashes that differed in color from the rest of his beautiful skin. It made your heart squeeze with sadness. Seeing the first real proof of just why Ghost was so closed off and afraid of letting anyone in. The first-hand experience left him always marching on a fine line between professional collaboration and a real, deep emotional connection to those he protected and those who wanted more than anything to protect him too.

Care about him.

It’s the one thought that brought you to press your lips to Ghost’s. Firm and sure of yourself but still sweet as sugar against his mouth. It takes him far longer than he thought to respond in any meaningful way. The sensation is so different, saccharine and syrupy. His. breath increases in pace, and you can feel his tongue teasing at your bottom lip in curiosity. It’s anxious yet bold. Even his hands are still shaking, they’re already wandering under the hem of your shirt much further than before. Grazing the bottom edge of your bra just like his tongue messily begged for more.

When you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, Ghost feels his inhibitions falling away. Opening his mouth with a low groan and pushing himself deeper, licking against your tongue greedily and tightening his grasp around you to begin rumbling for the hooks on your bra.

He’s nearly panting when he pulls away first, resting his forehead against yours with the hooks of your bra undone without even remembering when he’d done it. The sensation is sending heatwaves through your stomach, flooding your body with heat that rests on your cheeks.

“You’re beautiful.” He mumbles, pulling at your shirt slowly and guiding it up over your head with care not to let it catch on anything.

Your heart thumps furiously as he kisses you, his tongue grazing against your own, softly and sweetly. His teeth tug on your lower lip, and his hands explore your back, feeling the smoothness of your skin. The warmth of his lips feels wonderful, his tongue exploring you as his movements become more frantic.

You feel his hands leave your back and move to your breasts, running lightly against the plush flesh before squeezing softly. Teasing his thumbs over your hardened nipples, giving you a darkened look when a small whimper slips from you. Ghost's eyes flick down, catching the image of your topless body before him and the almost pinched look of pleasure suddenly shocking your body. He smiles at you, his lips parting slightly as he does so feeling a new sense of accomplishment than ever before.

Hurting people felt natural to him after so many years alone and fighting to survive in every moment that came to pass. Rhythm and attention to the enemy's detailed reactions made him a lethal weapon against anyone his talents were directed at. With you in his hands though, the act of fighting was similar yet so very polar opposite. He watched and listened to every pretty little sound you made, but instead of that unending desire for retribution, he was being satiated with the knowledge that he could make you melt with nothing more than his mouth and hands.

Fuck, that thought almost ended Ghost. He couldn’t imagine just how many sounds he could rip out of you if he could use his hands or mouth somewhere else. God, if he ever had the chance to give you his cock, there’d really be no way of going back. He looks you in the eyes for a moment, then back to your lips, before kissing you again, his tongue exploring you as his hands run up and down your body.

He's so fucking eager now, and it shows, his excitement building in every movement of his hips beginning to roll up against yours. He's making you feel so hot and desperately needy for anything that could be given to you, and that's all he wants. Make you feel everything possible… all under his hands. His body, his touch. Only him. It couldn’t be anyone else now that he’d been given a taste of you.

The stone-cold Lieutenant Ghost is ready to give you everything all in the pursuit of making you feel absolutely overwhelmed with pleasure.

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures #part two

839 notes · View notes

etheries1015 · 11 months

Text

A fearful Realization Pt. 2- Malleus X Reader

A continuation of This

A scenario in which you finally realize your feelings for the fae, however, the feeling doesn't leave you as elated as one may think. Perhaps it's time you came to terms with the fear of falling in love?

You slipped away from the party, excusing yourself with a quick apology to Silver as you found your way to the rooftop of Noble Bell Academy. Leaning over the edge your arms propped up on your elbows, heavy head being held by the palms of your hands. Using one arm you removed the mask to prevent the tears from ruining the fabric, wiping away with precision and avoiding any smearing of makeup you may have applied.

Staring over the beautiful stretch of the city, your eyes gazed upon the hundreds of people beneath the sun-kissed horizon as the sun slowly made its way to rest for the day. A gentle breeze blew through your hair and chilled the tears dry against your frosted cheeks. You had heard Silver run after you, clearly ignoring your desire to be left by your lonesome. So once the door to the roof opened you hadn't bothered to look back at the silver-haired boy, instead letting out a shaky and feeble chuckle through trembling lips. You didn't want anyone to see you in such a state, but as much as you wished to avoid it, there are things we as humans cannot control. Matters of the heart, for example.

"I...thought I told myself to give up on love a long time ago," You began to say, "I..." You looked down at the people walking around the city, some who were holding hands others laughing and coming together in joyous endeavors. You felt a tinge of jealousy as your heart stung with pins sticking deep within.

"I don't know why I bother, Silver," you choked out forcing a sob down your throat, "Because without fail- every single time- you somehow manage to convince yourself "His must be the personal in which I finally learn to love!" Your hands fell heavy to your side, turning away from the bustling of the city to stare in anguish at the mask in your grip. "This MUST be the right one."

"But it never is."

You sigh, finally deciding to place the mask on your face once more before looking up at the cloudless sky dusted in pink and orange.

"That's why I'm terrified. Our worlds are so different, there's no way he could possibly love me back. And even if he does, there's just...so much that can go wrong. I might still go home, and I don't want to do that to him-"

"Who, if I may ask, are you referring to?"

Your eyes widened with your heart dropping into the pit of your stomach, whipping your head around to find the source of the deep honey voice was not Silver; yet the very man you were desperately trying to avoid.

Malleus.

Your words were caught in your throat, the tears that had just stopped flowing threatened to return. In a panic you turned back around and shut your eyes tightly, hoping it was all some sort of bad dream and the Fae would magically disappear. It was inevitable though, this encounter. You would have to come to terms with your feelings to him one way or another, and this was the universes way of saying it was time.

"It's too soon," You whisper, "I can't-"

"You can," A reassuring hand placed itself upon your shoulder, urging you to look his way. When you turned to face the ethereal Fae, you had difficulty catching yourself to catch his gaze with your own. Malleus brought a gloved hand underneath your chin, using his agile fingers to tilt your gaze forcefully yet ever so gently to look into his entrancing emerald orbs.

"Am I right to assume you may be referring to...me?" You could sense a sort of hesitance in his voice, the confident man you saw singing up on stage was now standing vulnerable in front of you- and you were certain your resolve was no longer existent seeing him there under the glare of sunset. You gave a feeble nod in response to his inquiry, body trembling in terror for something you knew all to well about; rejection.

However it seemed to be the exact opposite of those deep-rooted expectations...instead, you found Malleus wrapping his arms around you, mostly to avoid showing you the un-princely blush that rested upon his pale cheeks and flustered appearance at the confirmation of your feelings. A moment of silence seemed to stretch into an infinity of uncertainty, yet was short-lived by Malleus making a rather...bold statement.

"Then I shall consider this day forward you to be my mate since I too reciprocate your feelings of affection." You shook your head in absolute bewilderment, pulling away from his chest to look him in the eyes, your mouth agape. Ah...there it was. The normal Malleus you knew- the one who was just slightly awkward and easily flustered- the one you knew not for his stoic nature and princely aura, yet his sensitive soul and animal-like silliness.

"Did you think that through?" You asked with an astonished chuckle at the rapid response the fae had given you, "I mean- first of all, I'm not from this world. Second of all, I'm a human-"

"None of that," He interrupted with a sly smile, "This is a time to rejoice, is it not? I believe we should celebrate by sharing a dance together," He smiled down at you, moving himself to grasp your hands into his.

You hesitate before deciding to drop your counterarguments, for now, the insecurities and questions can wait, you decide. Besides, everything was moving so quickly, you weren't even sure how to feel anymore. The emotions that seemed to take over your consciousness mere minutes ago were easily replaced with confusion and bewilderment, a far cry from what you had thought you would be going through when your confession came out. Malleus somehow had that effect about him, always swaying your emotions far left or far right- always knowing how to distract your mind from its own darkness, instead replacing it with something you weren't sure how to describe other than reckless abandon.

"Right now?" You responded with a breathy chuckle and raised eyebrows, "But there's no music up here...."

"I do not need music to enjoy a dance with you," He smiled, placing your hands where they needed to be for a classic ballroom-style dance, "so let's set aside your worries and simply enjoy the song of the wind and people laughing below, hmm?" With pursed lips and a deep breath, you allowed Malleus to lead the dance as you took your first step toward your new resolve.

-----

Masterlist

#Twisted wonderland #Twisted wonderland x reader #Malleus draconia #Malleus #twst #Malleus x reader #Malleus draconia x reader #Twst x reader #twst headcannon #twisted wonderland headcannon #twisted wonderland fanfiction

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im-sleepdeprived · 5 months

Text

Crazier • Pt. 2

wc: 8.8k (but totally worth it i PROMISE)

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader

a/n: part two is here! she's a little long but i swear i've never had so much fun writing and editing a fic so i promiseeee its totally worth it !!! i love this one so much so please pleaseee let me know what you think ! i love talking to you guys (i feel the need to tell yall this is totally a PETER x reader fic you’ll understand but DONT WORRY ITS JUST FOR PLOT BRO)

warning: literally nothing, a few f-bombs, and kids going psycho (in the best way) at school

read part 1 here

The weird, auto-tuned, voice startled you and made you turn around, wiping your eyes so you could see clearly. When you saw who it was you rubbed your eyes again for good measure because there was no way.

"Huh?" you said meekly, mentally slapping face palming for acting so dumb in front of New York's hero.

His head tilted and his masked face shifted in what you could only guess was a grin, "I said can I walk you home? It's pretty dark and I don't really trust the streets and, trust me, I would know. Plus, your crying and being distracted is really dangerous."

"I'm not crying," you were, in fact, crying. It was obvious to both of you. Your red eyes and pink stuffy nose, despite trying to fight the tears so you could get home, only came in harder.

"Ok well I'm just gonna ignore the fact that you're totally lying and ask again, can I walk you home?" despite there being a weird robotic tinge to his voice, you thought he sounded desperate. Plus you didn't really think he'd take a 'no' as an answer. Or if you were even allowed to give him that answer, he was a superhero after all.

So you nodded and his entire posture seemed to relax when you hadn't even realized he seemed tense. Wow, he must take his job seriously. You started walking, silently leading the way as he followed right beside you.

"Can I ask why you're crying?"

"You just did," you replied flatly not really meaning to sound so mean despite the tone you had used.

You sighed, "Shit, I'm sorry Mr. Spider-Man, here you are being all nice trying to make sure I get home all right and I'm being a total ass."

"No it's all right, you don't have to answer if you don't want to I just wanted to make sure everything was alright," his tone was soft, and somehow, despite not knowing him at all, you felt like you could trust him.

"I broke up with my boyfriend," you whispered and you weren't really sure if he would catch it, but he did.

"He must've been real stupid for you to do that, huh?"

You laughed. "God yes," your humor died down and your face fell, "but he was a great boyfriend, y'know, just...before he wasn't."

You passed the cafe that was near your apartment building when he asked, "What'd he do that made you snap?"

You were silent for a minute, debating whether you should answer that or not when you finally stopped in front of your building making him pause beside you as well.

"Well we're here," you slapped your hands together as you stood there awkwardly.

"Yeah, yeah. Um, maybe we could chat again sometime, totally friendly, of course," he added the last part rushed, waving his hands slightly. It made you laugh genuinely this time.

"Sure bug boy, I hang out on the roof a lot." you could actually use a friend to talk to after today. "If you're ever swinging by and you see me, you should stop to say hey."

"Really," Peter felt weird, you two had always sat on your apartment roof together, climbing up from your fire escape. And now he'd never get the chance to do it again. Not as Peter at least, but here you were inviting Spider-Man to hang out with you again.

He decided he'd take what he could get.

You smiled slightly and turned around to go inside when he spoke up again, "Wait how does tonight sound?" He asked, and if you didn't know any better you might even say he sounded nervous. That only made you smile more.

"Tonight sounds great," you said., "Oh. And thanks for walking me home. I really appreciate it." You shoot him one last smile before finally turning around and getting inside.

Despite it being dark on your way home, it wasn't that late, it was just winter. You started your homework and worked swiftly, not giving in to any of the distractions you usually did. You wanted to be completely free tonight. Maybe befriending Spider-Man would help improve your grades too.

When the clock struck 9 p.m. and your parents went to bed, you closed your door and silently locked it before walking over to the window and pushing it open.

You grabbed a book and headed up, deciding to read until he got there. It was freezing despite the big sweater you were wearing. After waiting five minutes and him still being a no-show, you decided to go make some tea.

Making your way down, you made two mugs of tea as quietly as you could without waking anyone in the apartment. It didn't take long and soon enough you were carefully making your way up the fire escape again, trying your best not to spill any of the hot liquid.

While you were focused on steadily moving so you didn't spill your drinks, you didn't notice the masked hero sitting on the ledge.

"There you are," his voice startled you but, miraculously, the tea didn't spill, "I've been waiting for like, forever." You had a feeling he rolled his eyes.

"Oh shut up," you handed him a mug, "I was just up here dumbass. But it got cold so I decided to make us something hot."

He used his free hand to put a finger on his chin, tilting his head, as if in thought, "Having trouble deciding if I should be offended you called me a dumbass or flattered that you made me a cup of tea."

You laughed out loud and he felt his heart flutter, the sound a nice contrast to the yelling that had gone down between you two earlier that day.

"Wait so I never got your name," he asked in fake interest. Obviously, he didn't need you to tell him. But you didn't know that.

"Y/N. what's yours?" you asked innocently and it was his turn to laugh. "Ha! Nice try," he joked and you just shrugged.

"Whatcha reading?" He pointed towards the book you had brought up with you, "Business or pleasure?"

You laughed, and grabbed the book, "Definitely pleasure. It's my favorite actually. I've read it too many times to count."

His heart fell a little. Your favorite? How did he not know that? He remembered the cover though..or maybe just the color scheme of it. The more he thought about it the more he realized he didn't really remember the book at all. God, he really couldn't blame you for ending things.

"Can you tell me about it," he asked softly. He loved it when you went on about a topic you loved and all the facial expressions and hand motions that came with your storytelling.

"Are you kidding? I can write a 20-page essay about this book," you scoffed lightly, "but I really don't wanna bore you so it's okay."

"No way! I asked, so how would you bore me. Tell me about it, maybe I'll pick it up from the next bookstore I pass."

So you did. You went on and on about certain themes that stood out to you while reading, and how important some lessons were. You showed him your annotations and notes and he realized you really weren't joking about the '20-page-essay' quip.

He loved the way you were so passionate about the subject and all the thought you'd put into this. But seeing you like this made him realize something, it'd been so long since you'd been like this with him. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't really remember the last time you'd gone on one of these little rants with him.

Some time while you were talking you'd both finished your tea (him only pulling up his mask to the tip of his nose, taking a sip, and quickly bringing it back down. he didn't wanna risk anything), setting the cups far to the side.

He let you finish before talking, "Wow that's a lot to take in, am I the only person who's been fortunate enough to have this wisdom passed onto them?"

You laughed, "Kinda, yeah."

That shocked him a little, at least if you hadn't shared it with him he thought you might've talked about it with MJ. He might not have known much (apparently) but he knew how much you loved to talk about a book after you read it, whether you liked it or not. And the fact that this was your favorite and you'd read it multiple times and hadn't shared it with anyone was weird to him.

"Really? How come? Are your friends not into reading," he asked, trying to be subtle.

You just shrugged, "I don't really have friends," he made a sound of disbelief which made you chuckle before continuing, "I mean obviously I have friends in the traditional sense of the word but I'm not close enough with anyone to just speak my thoughts like that, y'know?"

He tried, he really did, but he could feel the hurt coursing through him, did you never feel comfortable enough around him?

"Really? you seem like the kind of person who has too many friends. What about your boyfriend?"

"ex-boyfriend," you corrected him bitterly, and it left him wondering if you felt that same pang of hurt adding those two extra letters that changed everything.

"Right," he said quietly, "but still, did you never feel comfortable enough around him?" He knew it wasn't his place to ask you such questions, hell it wasn't his place to be talking to you at all, you had made that clear, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't just leave you alone to walk home alone, hurt, and in the dark. And now, he really wanted to know what your answer to his question would be.

You wanted to make a joke about how he was really going at it with the questions but you didn't have it in you. So you just thought about it a little before answering, "Well of course I was comfortable with him, at one point I guess, he wasn't just my boyfriend he was my best friend. And I guess that's what really sucks the most about the breakup.

"He was the only person I shared anything with but it just got to the point where I used to try and talk about anything and he'd just blow me off. It happened a few times before I just stopped altogether, it hurt too much when it felt like he didn't care. I stopped and it was like 'If I don't say anything, I can't get hurt'. If I didn't talk then I wouldn't feel that rejection again and I always had the little part in the back of my brain that said 'Of course he cares but don't say anything, just in case.'

"He's a busy guy, and I get that, I really do. I just never thought he'd get so busy he wouldn't care about me anymore."

You hadn't realized how close you'd come to tears until you felt yourself sniffle, "Shit, sorry," you laughed bitterly, "I didn't mean to get emotional, it's whatever now, it's over."

Peter heard his heart crack. Saying he felt terrible was an understatement. He felt horrendous that he made you feel that way, even worse that he didn't even realize that he did until you just said so.

"God I'm so sorry," he said, his voice feeling weak and he was extra thankful for the new voice-changer he'd been using lately. "He sounds like a total jerk." He was, he definitely was.

You force a little smile, "Oh well," you shrugged, "we'll both move on."

But deep down, neither of you believed that.

You had a long night. Turns out your city's hero had a lot more to him than you'd originally thought. He was extremely funny, always making little remarks about everything, and he was a great listener. Not a boring one either, he asked questions and seemed genuinely interested in what you were saying.

It was the main thing on your mind that day that you almost forgot the problem at hand. Almost.

Going back to school was something you were dreading. You didn't want to see Peter at all, just thinking about it was totally ruining your mood.

You arrived and headed straight for MJ's locker. You tapped her shoulder, "Heyyyy," you said, making her narrow her eyes at you.

"What happened," she deadpanned and you sighed. You rubbed the bridge of your nose just making her more skeptical.

"Peter and I broke up." You said softly, not meeting her eyes. If you had, you would've seen they were filled with rage.

"What," she asked lowly making you look up. You two were good friends but you didn't really think she'd care much, just because MJ wasn't the best at showing emotions like that.

"Yeah, yesterday after rehearsal I broke up with him. He pushed it too far," you shrugged trying to put it off as nothing but she could see right through your charade.

"C'mere," she slammed her locker shut and interlocked your arms together making you smile in delight. This was so unlike her and you were going to enjoy every moment.

It was like that, your elbows locked together, you beaming and her with a dead-set look on her face as you headed for first period. You were so caught up in the joy of MJ being a little touchy-feely for once that you didn't realize she wasn't actually headed towards class but instead down the hall towards the locker of your ex.

Luckily you caught on while you were still a few feet away, dragging her to a stop in the student-packed hall.

"Hey, hey, hey. What do you think you're doing?" You looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Going to chew out your ex-boyfriend for being a dick," she said as if it were obvious.

You snuck a glance at him just in time to see him swerving his head opposite direction. So, he had definitely seen you. You shook your head, "Mj you can't do that, you'll scare him so bad you'll send him into cardiac arrest."

She cracked a smile at that until she looked in his direction and her face fell again, "No way. I'm gonna beat him into a pulp I swear-"

"Michelle," she tensed as you used her full name, "I'm fine. In fact, I broke up with him." Her shoulders deflated. "I'm not letting him off the hook that easily," she mumbled and you nodded, not really expecting her to. "I'm gonna give him the death stare all day long." She continued.

"And I'm sure he'll turn to stone by the end of the day," you said reassuringly. Her face lifted a little.

"But if he even tries to pull some stupid shit, I will not hesitate," she gave you a look that said 'this is the one thing you have no say over' and you nodded again. Anything as long as she didn't approach him and embarrass the three of you in the crowded school hallways.

She seemed satisfied with that answer, and so you both turned around to actually get to class this time but not before you snuck another glance at Peter who, for some reason, was looking a little paler than a few seconds ago. Even a little..scared? Maybe he heard MJ's threats, you humored yourself, turning your head away from him again. But that was impossible because the halls were way too crowded for him to have overheard you both. Not to mention you were still a ways away from him.

The rest of the day went by easier than you thought it would, with extremely minimal interactions with Peter. none, in fact, after the MJ incident (who had stuck by your side all day like your own personal bodyguard).

Of course, it might've been because you were avoiding him. You knew his schedule well and you knew where he'd be at almost all hours of the day. Even in your shared classes, you'd charmed some other students into switching seats with you so you didn't have to sit beside him anymore.

There was no rehearsal today so you dragged MJ to get ice cream with you, despite her initial refusal. You just needed a distraction, you didn't feel like going home and drowning in your thoughts for the rest of the day so you were gonna stall as much as you could.

You paid for your ice creams and MJ chose a booth in the back for you both to sit at. Once upon a time, you all used to come here as a group (you, MJ, Ned, and Peter) and sometimes just you and Peter alone on simple dates. The memories hurt to think about so you pushed them aside trying to only focus on the sweetness of your chocolate ice cream.

"So why'd you do it," MJ asked bluntly. You looked at her and furrowed your brows, not knowing what she meant.

She sighed, "Why'd you break up with him? I can see how down in the dumps you've been all day, you clearly didn't want to do it, so why did you?" She didn't ask it in a nosy manner, just simply, as if she were asking you for today's date.

You exhaled slowly, trying to buy yourself time because as much as you didn't want to answer her question, you had to. You felt as if you owed her that much with how extra kind and supportive she was acting today, despite that going against her usual personality. And plus, she was your friend so she should know.

"You know how he was MJ, I always told you," you sighed. You look down and start picking at your nails. "He just promised that he'd be there for one of my rehearsals claiming that, since they meant so much to me, he should go to one. And even though I kept telling him no and that he probably wouldn't be able to make it, he promised,

"He promised, and he still couldn't show up. So it just made me start thinking, and if he can't keep his word with simple things like that, how can I trust him with bigger things like a relationship? All the other times he's bailed on me, no explanation, and I'd just feel so stupid and hurt after getting stood up again. And I just snapped I guess."

MJ nodded solemnly as the bell above the door rang. Just out of curiosity, you looked up from your ice cream and you immediately wished you hadn't because walking in was Peter and Ned.

"Speak of the devil," you muttered as you buried your head down, letting your hair cover your face. MJ gave you a confused look before turning around and seeing just what you were talking about. She muttered a few profanities before grabbing your hand and dragging you up by your wrist.

As soon as you stood up two pairs of eyes landed on the both of you and before you could even think about where to run away, Ned was heading towards you with Peter right at his heels.

You cringed and MJ stood up straighter and tensed. You put a hand on her shoulder to remind her to relax and not turn on 'kill mode' yet.

"Hey guys," Ned said smiling big and for a second you thought maybe Peter didn't tell him about the breakup. Until you saw him send a not-so-subtle slap to the back of his shoulder but Ned ignored it.

"Hey Ned," you said softly giving him a tight smile and avoiding Peter's eyes despite feeling them burning holes into your skin. MJ just stood stiffly.

"Funny running into you guys here huh? Me and Pete just came here for a little treat, y'know we need a pick-me-up after that math quiz," he laughed and you forced a small chuckle. You two seemed to be the only ones trying, Peter was just staring at you the whole time and MJ was glaring at him, waiting for him to try something so she had an excuse to pounce.

"Say, aren't you in the same class Y/N? How was the test for you," he asked, clearly trying to keep the conversation flowing but as you opened your mouth to answer, someone else did.

"Well, this has been just great. Not," MJ said which made heat rush to your face. As uncomfortable as you were, you never wanted to be rude to them, especially Ned. He had done nothing wrong and he was only being nice.

"But Y/N and I have plans to be elsewhere so see ya later Leeds. And Parker, you might want to blink before your eyeballs dry out, not that I'd mind," she muttered the last part but you all still heard it so you sent a slap to her arm. She just shrugged as you turned towards Ned, still avoiding even looking at Peter, "Yea it was nice to see you Ned but we do have somewhere to be so we should catch up some other time," you tried more politely.

"Yeah, of course," he sent you another smile as MJ dragged you by your arm out the door and you waved lamely at him. You both stopped as the door closed behind you. you inhaled deeply, trying to calm your nerves.

"Oh my fuck, that was stressful," you muttered.

MJ gave you a sympathetic look before gesturing to follow her, "Come on, let's find somewhere else to hang out."

you followed her and looked into the window of the shop where you saw Peter and Ned hunched over whispering about something. probably about how awkward that interaction was.

"Come on y/n, pleaseeeeeee," Lexi begged, giving you big, wide, puppy dog eyes.

It was the next day after school and you were currently being bombarded by the whole cast and crew to play a big round of truth or dare with them.

So they sent Lexi to convince you, knowing how close you two were. And also how stubborn she was.

"But we have work to do," you whined pathetically. "Y/N honestly everything is done. and plus, we have one more rehearsal before opening night so if we did miss anything, which we didn't, we'll get it done that day," someone else from the crowd yelled, the rest yelling in agreement.

They were especially laying it on you because Mrs. Lightbody was absent today, leaving you in charge alone.

"Y/N/N, what are you even worrying about," Lexi asked, "you have everything memorized down to a 't'. Like, honestly, if any one of us had to bail last minute you could totally take over because I know you have every part of the script memorized." Everyone else was laughing in agreement and you looked down knowing it was true.

"I mean, come on, isn't truth or dare such a 'seventh grade' kinda game," you tried for measly, knowing that what she said was true, almost everything was ready for the big day and the minor stuff left could be taken care of at the last rehearsal.

"Well if you don't wanna play truth or dare we can always do something else," Lexi offered, giddy at the fact that you might actually agree.

"How about a scavenger hunt," someone suggested.

"Yeah! Me and Jack can write up a bunch of lists of tasks to do and items to gather. It'll take us less than 10 minutes," Lacy offered.

Everyone looked around and you finally spoke up, "Sure why not," you gave in and everyone started cheering, some even whistling, "A bunch of kids running around an empty school? What could go wrong?" you told them, the whole group laughing loud.

Everyone lounged around for a few minutes while Lacy and Jack laid out somewhere on the stage, pulling out a bunch of empty papers and started writing on them. You watched as Jack said something that made Lacy laugh, making a blush form on his cheeks. it had once been like that with me and Peter, you thought, but you tried not to let that bitter feeling seep in again.

As if sensing your distress, Lexi came over and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "Hey," she said softly, "maybe this'll be good for you, y'know. You work really hard and you need something to forget about that Parker kid for once. so let's go wild and run around the school a bit." you smiled, thinking about how ridiculous this whole thing really was and how Mrs. Lightbody would endlessly scold you if she ever found out. but you also couldn't help the excitement bubbling in you. this sounded like a lot of fun.

"Yea, you're right," you agreed and you both lounged out on the stairs on the side of the stage until Jack stood up on the center stage and whistled, gathering everyone's attention.

he waited, Lacy beside him holding a bunch of paper scraps, until everyone was close until he began, "Fellow children of theater," he started dramatically, "I hold before you midtown's very first, annual, theater games." everyone cheered and clapped.

"You may gather into groups, as many as you like, just no more than four to a group, please. Now if you will, sort yourselves, and once your group is ready, come grab the paper that will have your tasks from Lady Lacy." He finished and motioned to Lacy who took a bow and everyone clapped once more. Man, you were gonna miss these kids once this play was over.

you and Lexi decided that you were just going to go together but as you were getting ready to get up on stage, Brad Davis approached you two.

"Hey," he greeted with that charming smile of his. Lexi greeted him while you waved silently beside her.

"Mind if I join you two," he asked the both of you, but his eyes were only on you, searching for your reaction to his question.

"Of course Brad," Lexi said, being the overly polite person she was. He nodded but he was still looking at you hopefully so you decided to answer, "Of course, you can join us," you smiled slightly. "After all, three minds are better than two. And I'm sure we'll need the extra help with whatever those two have planned for us," you motioned to the two leaders of this event, making Brad and Lexi laugh.

The three of you made your way to Jack and Lacy to grab a list of tasks. You approached them, "Hey Lace, can we grab a sheet?"

"Of course," she said sweetly. She grabbed a paper then looked down and laughed lowly. you all looked at her confused and she just ignored you, turning to nudge Jack. He didn't help your confusion when he looked at the paper and burst out laughing.

"What? What is it," Lexi asked, stepping forward. Lacy shook her head, "It's nothing, it's just," she laughed a little more, "me and Jack sorta wrote this one as a joke, the tasks on here are hella extreme, and frankly," she looked at you, "I don't know if you can handle it Y/N."

You must've looked taken aback because she quickly added, "I mean no offense, honestly you're so smart that if I had to choose anyone to actually complete these I'd choose you."

"Then why don't you think I can handle it," you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. "Well I know you're a stickler for the rules," she started, "and these break basically all of them."

"Lemme see that," you snatched the paper out of her hand and read it. well, you started to read it, but after seeing the first two tasks, you stopped.

You looked up to see her and Jack fighting off smiles. "I can totally get another one for you for you," she started to reach for the paper but you yanked it out of her grasp. "No, no, no. I'm doing this," you stated.

She and Jack exchanged a look, "are you sure," he asked you weakly. You raised your head and put on a defiant look, you loved proving people wrong, "Yes."

You walked away, Brad and Lexi close on your heels, only stopping in front of the auditorium door.

"Can I see it," Lexi asked? You nodded, handed her the paper, and watched as she read through it. Her eyes widened every time she read something on the list, Brad reading over her shoulder.

"Y/N, I love you but you're crazy," she said. You went to reply to her but just then, Jack was at the center of the stage again.

"Everyone has a task card, each group will try their hardest to complete all the tasks they were given. We will meet up here in an hour and a half and the winning group will be treated properly." He looked down to set up a timer on his phone. "But there is a trick to this," he paused for dramatic effect, "there's is an obstacle my partner and I have withheld from you all,

"We are, in fact, not alone in the school. There was a teacher meeting to be held after school hours and we have a few stranglers still wandering the halls. So you must be careful not to get caught," he smirked and you feel more of that excitement rush through you. You could really use the adrenaline rush this would definitely bring.

He looked up, holding his phone up for everyone to see, his thumb hovering over the green button that would start the timer, "Let the games commence!" he yelled as his thumb hit the button, the numbers already starting to go down quickly as kids started rushing out the doors.

"Oh my god, we are so gonna get caught," Lexi whined, making you laugh. "Well, we aren't gonna win with that attitude, come on Lex, live a little."

"Yeah what she said," Brad laughed and stepped forward to hold the door open for the both of you.

"Such a gentleman," you muttered as you stuck your head out to look down the halls both ways before grabbing Lexi's hand and dragging her after you.

"Read the first one Lex," you whispered as you scouted the halls for any sign of movement.

"'Bring back a lightbulb that is currently being used in one of the rooms in the building'," she read off the paper.

You thought for a second, "Most of the school uses tube lights so where can we get a light bulb?"

The three of you were quiet for a second before Brad piped up, "The library has ceiling fans that use lightbulbs," he suggested, but it sounded more like a question.

You clapped him on the shoulder, "Brad you're a genius." His face seemed to light up at your compliment.

The three of you headed towards the library, running into a few other kids who were also trying to complete their lists.

You quietly opened the doors and motioned for Lexi and Brad to stay behind as you made sure there were no librarians or teachers present. Once you were positive the coast was clear, you let them in and went towards the ceiling fan furthest in the back, in case anyone walked in.

You stood up on the table but you couldn't reach, "Brad, you're tall. Get up here," you instructed and he followed.

"I have a better idea," and before you could ask what it was, he picked you up by the waist and lifted you up to where you could easily unscrew it.

You carefully twisted it until the light gave out and the warm glass fell into your hands. You looked down at Brad, who was still holding you, and smiled, "Thank you."

He smiled back and let you down, both of you stepping off the table. Lexi clapped lightly, "Ok first task done," she grabbed a pen from her pocket and crossed it out. As soon as she lifted the pen from the paper you heard a door close.

You all looked at each other panicked. You brought a finger up to your lips and quietly tiptoed your way between the shelves, leading them to the back exit.

Everything was going smoothly until Lexi accidentally bumped into a chair making it fall to the floor, the metal making a loud noise. You all froze in your tracks as the school's librarian's voice rang out, "Hello? Who's there?"

Quickly thinking, you handed them the lightbulb and ushered both of them to the other side of the shelf as her footsteps sounded closer and closer. Once they were completely hidden from your view you pretended to browse the books on the shelf just as Ms. Smith approached you.

"Oh Y/N, it's just you. What're doing here so late," she asked, her scratchy voice prickling your skin.

"Um well, as you may know, I'm directing the school play that's performing this Friday," you said. She nodded for you to go on, still looking suspicious.

"There's actually a rehearsal today and I managed to find some time to sneak away to the library to get a book," you continued, having no idea where you were going with this.

"You came here this late just to get a book? You know the library is closed at this time of day dear, it's only open during school hours," she said, still sounding suspicious so you knew you had to bring out the big guns.

You sighed looking down, trying your hardest to seem heartbroken, "Well you see Ms. Smith, my boyfriend broke up with me and I just really needed to get lost in a good book to forget how hurt I am," you forced your voice to crack and looked away wiping your eyes from nothing.

"At the 'Greek Mythology' section," she questioned, and you almost faltered. But you were too committed.

You nodded, your lip quivering, "he always used to tell me stories of the Greek myths. And the story of Orpheus and Eurydice," you let out a choked sob. "it's so romantic."

She ate. it. up. "Why yes it is, it's one of my favorites actually. Well, you take your time dear," she rubbed your shoulder as you buried your face into your hands, "and let me know if you need anything else, alright? I'll be up at the front desk."

You just sobbed harder until she left. Once you were sure she was gone, you moved your hands away from your face, which was bone dry.

You went behind the shelf to find Brad and Lexi shuffled together. You had to hold your laughter until you exited into the halls.

You grabbed Lexi's hands and laughed, "Did you see how she totally bought that?"

Lexi laughed with you, "You were really good Y/N, I almost bought it too! And the fake crying? Absolutely genius."

"Yea Y/N, I almost thought you were fresh out of a breakup," Brad added and you laughed again. "That part is actually true," you inform him, "everything else though, was a part of the bit. Peter doesn't know the first thing about Greek mythology let alone the story of Orpheus and Eurydice." you laugh.

"Oh? So Parker's out of the picture," he asked and you just nodded as you read the next task on the paper, not noticing his smile.

You were dead set on doing everything on this list

A little over an hour had passed. You and Brad were currently busy unscrewing one of the circular seats from a cafeteria table. Of course, you had no tools so you had to improvise. You found that if you bent a bobby pin just the right way, it'll do the trick.

You kept twisting the bobby pin until you heard a clattering sound as the last screw fell off. Brad held up the seat as the three of you grinned. You were so gonna win this.

You stood up and opened up the bag with the rest of your supplies as Brad added your new prize. You had stolen a trash bag from the janitor's closet to hold everything for you. As the three of you walked down the hallways holding the most random collection of things, you spoke up, "Lex, what's next on the list?"

She looked down and the smile that was previously on her face quickly disappeared as she seemed to pale a little. "Oh no," she muttered.

"What? What is it," you asked as you all stopped in your tracks.

"It's the last one," she said and you smiled, happy that you'd made it this far.

"Ok so what's the problem," you asked, not really seeing what she was getting at. "Out of everything on this list," she started, "this is the one that will for sure get us expelled."

You and Brad exchanged a look, "Hit me with it."

"We have to steal the principal's desk chair."

"Those little shits," you muttered, your hands clenching into fists. "So that's it right? I mean, we got everything else on here, we don't have to win. We made it further than any of us thought we would," she said but you were already shaking your head.

"We have to win, we are going to win," you were so determined to win this stupid game and you weren't even sure why.

Lexi looked up, closed her eyes, and brought her hands up together, "Dear god, I'm too young to die. my parents would kill me."

Brad laughed as you headed down the hall towards the principal's office. Once you reached where you could see it, you crouched, the others right beside you.

the walls on his side of the office were glass and you could see Principal Morita sitting at his desk. You sighed and turned to face your partners, "I have a plan but it's a little crazy."

"Oh please, this whole thing has been more than a little crazy, just hit us with it Y/L/N," Lexi whispered.

"Ok one of us will have to lure him out while the other two wait behind the door. While he's in the hallway and whoever's with him is keeping him distracted, the other two sneak into the office, roll the chair out the other door, and wait around the corner. Once we're done and completely secure, we send some sort of signal and he's free to go back in."

You were unsure, it was a little all over the place and really risky but they were both nodding at you. "Ok I can distract him, I know exactly what to talk to him about," Lexi offered and you laughed.

You looked at Brad, "Guess it's you and me." You started crawling to the other side of the hall, careful to stay low so Morita wouldn't see you.

"Yup," he muttered, "your regular Bonnie and Clyde." You held in a laugh as you got situated on the brick wall at the side of the office, made sure you were out of view from the door, and motioned for Lexi to go ahead.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door, the sound ringing out loud in the quiet hallway. It didn't take long before the door opened and was held right in between you and your school's principal.

"Um, yes, may I help you," you heard him ask.

"Sorry to bother you sir, but I really needed to talk to you about something," Lexi said desperately. "Ok why don't you go ahead and take a seat in my office," he offered. "NO," she cleared her throat, knowing she had said that too loud, "what is mean is, no I can't I'm kind of in a hurry." You heard her take a few steps back. "We should just speak out here."

Mr. Morita followed her, letting go of the door as he stepped forward but Brad grabbed the handle before it could close. He held it open for you as you crawled in and he followed behind before quietly shutting it after him.

You two crawled up to his office careful not to be seen since this side of his office wall was made of glass. Currently, his back was to you and Brad while Lexi was facing you but was careful not to let her eyes wander and betray her.

"Ok," you silently opened the door, "we'll need to pick it up until we round the corner because the noise of it rolling would definitely catch his attention."

"Alright I can handle that," Brad said as he grabbed the legs of the chair and stood up but you motioned for him to stop. You moved out the door and peeked your head around the wall the tiniest bit. You saw Lexi passionately going on about something and from what you could see of Morita, he looked a little uncomfortable. You made a mental to ask her later what she was going on about. Once you were sure that Mr. Morita wouldn't see you, you stuck your hand and made a 'shooing' motion.

You weren't sure if Lexi would see it or not but she must've seen it from the corner of her eye because she moved so that she was facing the hallway you had to go down head-on, making Morita turn even more as he listened to whatever it was she was rambling about.

Now, with his back directly towards you and the new direction you were headed, you both left the office and you silently shut the door. Brad quietly put down the chair, "Get on," he ordered. You looked at him a little confused as he tried again, "Come on, it'll be fun."

Hell, you'd already done way crazier things today than you ever thought you would. One more couldn't hurt. So you sat on the chair as he picked it up and walked down the hall. You had to hold in your laughter.

Once he turned the corner he set you down, stuck his head out, and shot Lexi a thumbs up. Less than a minute later, she approached you guys. "Go before he sees us," she whisper-yelled.

You were still sitting in the seat and Brad took it upon himself to push you through the halls. It was such a rush, laughing in the chair with your hair flying around you, two of your newest best friends right behind you. It was one of those moments that you knew right then and there how special it was and how much you cherish it in the years to come, all the moments from today actually. You never would've participated in something like this. Ever. It was fun to be pushed out of your comfort zone, to loosen up a bit. And it was especially fun to do it with these two.

You all arrived at the side doors of the auditorium breathless, you from laughter and Brad and Lexi from the running and laughter.

"Oh. my. GOD. I can't believe we actually pulled that off," Lexi said, smacking her forehead, eyes wide.

"Hell yeah, we did," you looked at Brad and grinned as you held out your hand for a high-five. "Lex," you turned towards her, "time?"

She looked down at her watch, "Ten minutes before the deadline," she smiled. She opened the door for the three of you and you all walked inside, extremely proud of yourselves.

The auditorium was empty, to your surprise, with only you three and Lacy and Jack working on something up on stage. You all walked up the steps, "Hey guys," you spoke up.

They looked up a little confused hearing your voice, "Oh hey Y/N," Jack said, "done already?" you nodded casually and looked down picking at your nails, peeking up to see the shocked expressions on their faces.

"No way," Lacy whispered, "there's no fucking way you could've done all that." She said, louder this time.

You looked up, as if in thought, and put a hand on your chin, "Really lace?" Brad brought up the bag, he had stashed it in a hallway while you did your little office heist and the chair. "Cause I thought I just did," you smirked.

They stood with their mouths agape while the three of you just grinned at each other.

"Well I'm impressed," Jack said as he looked at you and your friends, "can't wait to announce the winners!"

The three of you sat on the edge of the stage while the rest of the groups piled in and handed their lists to Lacy and Jack so they could assess them. Soon enough, everyone had filed back into the auditorium and after a few minutes, Jack shooed everyone off the stage so he could make his announcement.

Once everyone was standing below the stage, Jack walked up to the center as he had done almost 2 hours before. "Students of Midtown," he bellowed, "I come to you with news of your latest adventure. We have gone through everyone's task list and the little prizes they brought back. I'm disappointed to say that only one team completed every task given to them."

Murmurs broke through the students as they wondered which group could've finished everything in so little time. You turned toward Brad and Lexi, "Wait we finished everything so does that mean-"

"I'm pleased to announce, however, the winners of the scavenger hunt. Y/N Y/L/N, Lexi Walker, and Brad Davis, congratulations!" Applause shattered all around you while you, Brad, and Lexi were hugging and high-fiving.

"Get on up here," Lacy shouted. You three were pushed forward by the other kids. You all walked up the steps and stopped in the middle of the large stage. Lacy and Jack turned to grab something and when they were facing you again, you saw what it was and you laughed. They were holding three makeshift crowns, made of cardboard. They were colored yellow (probably with a Crayola marker) and had big colorful jewels glued on the tips.

"Do you like em,'" Lacy asked with glee, "Me and Jack made them while everyone was out."

"I love them," you told her truthfully. The two of them approached your group and crowned you all separately as you stood in the middle with Lexi to your right and Brad to your left.

Jack stepped back, "Ladies and gentlemen, fellow students of Midtown High, let's hear it for the first winners of our very own theater games!"

Applause and cheering roared all around you. You smiled but then remembered something. Leaning to the side towards your friend, you whispered, "Hey Lex, what were you talking about with Mr. Morita, y'know, when you had to distract him for us?" She grinned at you evilly. "I told him that all the girls' bathrooms in the building should have a handful of free menstrual products because incidents happen every day and distract us from our schoolwork."

You threw your head back laughing as she laughed along with you. "Lexi! What did he say?"

"He got so flustered I barely kept him out of his office as long as I did." She told you and you laughed even more. "I can't believe you had the confidence to actually do that," you choked out between fits of laughter. Everyone was still clapping below you. She only shrugged, "Someone had to do it. I was just fortunate to be handed the opportunity." She said it so wisely, you didn't know whether to laugh some more or solemnly nod.

You looked down at your watch and realized rehearsal had actually ended a few minutes ago. You stepped forward, "Thank you, everyone, really. I hope you all had as much fun as I did because I had a blast," you looked back at your friends and smiled, "but, as you know, all good things have to end. It's getting late and before we all start heading home I wanted to talk to you all about something,

"The day after tomorrow is the last rehearsal for us which really sucks because I always look forward to these things. No, seriously, sometimes they're the only thing to get me through the day." Chuckles and little shouts of agreement spread around the group, "And the day after that, is the long-awaited play we've all worked so hard on. And as much as I can't wait to see how amazing everyone's going to do," you looked at Lexi, who smiled right back, "I'll miss seeing your faces every day so, please, if you see me in the hall or in class or something, don't be a stranger. And at our next rehearsal, Mrs. Lightbody will definitely be back so I expect everyone to keep their mouths shut about today. Or none of us will live to make it to opening night."

Everyone clapped with a few people yelling things like "wWe'llmiss you too Y/N" and "Don't worry, this won't be the end of us!" that last one was Jack being as dramatic as ever. You laughed, "Great, now everyone, get your asses home before I get kicked off the cast for keeping you all too late."

Everyone was running around getting their things ready and you were about to do the same when you remembered something. "Hey Lace, Jack," you called them over, "what are you gonna do with everything?"

they looked at each other and smirked before looking back at you, "oh don't worry Y/N, that's for us to worry about." he told you, setting unease in your mind.

You chuckled stiffly, "Um, well, be careful I guess?" They laughed, "Of course we will Y/N/N." Lacy said.

"Ok, well then I'm gonna get going now, bye!" You waved at them and they both waved back. You stepped off the stage, grabbing your bag from the corners of the steps where you'd left it. You were almost at the door when you heard your name being called. Turning around you saw Brad

"Oh, hey Davis," you smiled. "hey Y/N. I was wondering if I could walk home with you," and if you didn't know any better, you'd think he sounded a little nervous.

You laughed, "Of course, you can Brad," you started walking out the door, "unless you're trying to kidnap me then no." you deadpanned, making him laugh. He put up both hands, "Hey, my criminal record is clean and I plan on keeping it that way."

You were outside now and the roads were wet. Apparently, it had rained while you guys were getting it crazy back at school. You fake pouted, "Ugh, that sucks. I have a thing for bad boys," you smiled up at him widely. He dramatically threw his head to the side, getting rid of the hair that had fallen on his face. "Well, I'm as bad as they come."

"Oh?" you questioned, raising a brow. He nodded and leaned in, putting a hand to cover his mouth as he whispered in your ear, "One time, I was trying to parallel park between two cars and I accidentally hit one of them so I got scared just and left."

You burst out laughing, "Oh my god, I was not expecting that. BRAD! you committed a hit and run!" You laughed some more as he just shrugged, "What can I say? I'm just that cool." You fake swooned on him, throwing a hand on your forehead, "Oh my goodness Brad Davis, take me now!"

he laughed as you pushed yourself off him, laughing along with him. It was like that for the rest of the way and you realized how funny he was. He went along with all your bits (which was always appreciated) and made some himself. The walk went by quickly and was over faster than you would've liked.

You stopped in front of the door to your apartment building, "Well this is me." Brad stopped beside you. "Y'know," you started, "you're way cooler than I thought Davis."

He laughed, "Glad you finally figured that out. Maybe we could do this again sometime?"

You nodded, "Yeah, I think I'd like that." He grinned, "Great." you two sat there just staring at each other for a few seconds, the only sound was water hitting the ground as it fell out of gutters, and when he looked like he was about to open his mouth and say something, a car honked and splashed the two of you, leaving the two of you soaked from the side.

You squealed in surprise and laughed. "Holy shit! Well, my socks are ruined now." Brad laughed along and you missed the twinge of disappointment coating his features. "Well, see you tomorrow Brad!" you waved at him as you turned to walk into the building.

As you made your way up the stairs, you couldn't help the excitement still coursing through you. Maybe Spider-Man would pay you a visit. You had a lot to share after today.

read part 3 here !!

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k3igol0ve · 3 months

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Small silly drabble; [Suggestive/ Slight Nsfw] Leaning more towards self indulgence

Thinking about how Keigo would play online games with you if you asked, I'm thinking games like stardew valley, animal crossing, and all those other co-op indie games just to wind down for the week.

Roblox; Roblox if you're both up to it, so let's say a specific game in roblox; Bingo. It works like normal bingo, one line, two line and full house. He's normally silent during the round, which is quite unusual. That game is very much so infuriating, because I can imagine Keigo getting frustrated, right when he was one away to that full house on ALL 3 cards, someone called out 'Bingo' . He wouldn't do anything extreme though since he has his anger controlled [unlike a certain someone] , well at most times, until it's been 2 hours and he hasn't got a single Bingo. At first he'd start making sounds; groaning, sighing and tsking. His wings ruffling with a tinge of annoyance. Then this man would start bullying kids, in a kids game just because they keep calling Bingo before he does, he won't openly type it in chat; I'd assume he'd start spewing out those; "I hope ____, ex; I hope both sides of your pillows are warm, I hope your charger stops working... etc", and he'd probably go into cursing their whole bloodline.

Stardew Valley; Farming simulation basically, you both start a co-op and start on a selected farm. While you are farming, Keigo is probably strolling around the place trying to find trinkets, he'd be the type to check all the trash bins in the game every time a new day starts. I think he'd be more into foraging. He'd mine sometimes too, but when you guys unlock the first barn Keigo WILL be naming that first chicken 'KFC', and he's going to look after that chicken like his own offspring. Fishing, the fishing system or controls on Stardew is a bit,,, annoying persay sometimes. Keigo would struggle a bit on it, but quickly learn how to handle it. Though he does get frustrated when he does lose the fish just because he clicked too fast or the meter went up a little too high. His eyes would furrow in irritation because of it. Okay so lets say, hypothetically perhaps you have someone you like in Stardew valley, and as much as you are loyal to Keigo you'd want to pursue that bachelor/bachelorette. Let's just say Keigo doesn't like sharing what is his. He would personally make it his daily job to go up to that person and give their hated gifts everyday, and just to make it a little more funnier he'd glare at the pixel through the screen in irritation. He doesn't get back at you by finding his own though, he just doesn't like the pixels on the screen that you have chosen because frankly you belong to him only. He's jealous but he'll never admit it. Though he probably would say; "You know I'd love you so much better than [Character name]. " With a small pout on his face, he's like a little kid sometimes, or sometimes he'll ask, " Do you love me or [Character name] more? " And well, if you're petty and decide to show attitude by comparing him to chosen character, he'll have his way with you and by his way, I mean fucking you so hard into the mattress until all your mind can comprehend is his name. Whining and moaning his name so prettily, his favourite song from you. ' Fuck, I'd be so much better than that character- fuckin' givin you everything you want ' To think he'd be jealous over a few pixels. As a bird, and more importantly as Keigo; he's insanely petty.

[Roblox was self indulgent, wrote this because I'm petty. Played this w/ my friend and all of us got frustrated]

#bnha hawks #mha hawks #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #🎐rambles #keigo takami #mha takami keigo #takami keigo #bnha #bnha keigo #hawks mha #hawks x you #keigo takami imagine #keigo x reader #keigo tamaki #hawks #mha x reader #mha #bnha x reader

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corazondebeskar-reads · 4 months

Text

show me where it hurts

Marcus Moreno x gn!nurse!reader

for @iamasaddie's writing challenge 3.0! my prompt was marcus moreno and nurse play, both of which I have never written about before!

summary: the heroics have a clinic on-site, so you're not sure why marcus moreno keeps turning up at yours.

words: 1.9k

warnings: non-graphic description of injury, the author knows nothing about medical care, the author saw 'we can be heroes' once, aphrodisiacs, implied sex pollen, dubcon associated with sex pollen, marcus is a little bit of a pervert, nurse kink, unethical medical care, unethical relations between nurse and patient, oral, reader has no name or description or gender, sorry if you're a marcus stan and I butchered your boy :( lol, subby!marcus, not even proofread oop

dividers by @saradika-graphics

You don’t quite understand it, until you do.

But for months, it makes no damn sense. You know the Heroics have a clinic at headquarters and medics on the team.

So why does the team leader come all the way here to your little walk-in clinic? Why does he pay in cash in full when the on-site doctors are almost definitely part of his benefits package?

You never ask. Not as the months drag to years and Marcus Moreno knocks on your door at any odd hour with no rhyme or reason, bloodied or bruised or both.

The first time, you didn’t recognize him. He had changed out of the suit into a worn pair of Levis and a soft cardigan patterned in reds and browns. Black framed glasses perched upon his nose, and the only thing you thought unusual about this man, other than his attractiveness, was the strange jagged border of the bite on his calf.

When you asked what type of animal caused the injury, he shrugged. “Alien dog,” he said, voice lilting as if he was asking you.

“Alien dog?”

He had the sense to look sheepish.

When he handed back the clipboard with his information and consent for treatment, you had heaved a heavy sigh. “Maybe lead with this first next time, Mr. Moreno,” you said, ushering him back to your single exam room.

“Sorry, doc,” he said.

“Not a doctor. Didn’t you read your paperwork?” you scolded with a teasing smile. “Or are those glasses just for disguise?”

“Not a doctor?”

“I’m a nurse practitioner,” you explained. “I do a lot of the same things as a physician. But I don’t have a doctorate, so you can’t call me doctor.”

“You’re a nurse?” he said, and you noticed a red tinge to his face.

“Are you feeling warm, Mr. Moreno?” you asked, reaching for the thermometer and tucking it under his tongue before tugging his pant leg back up to check the borders of the gash for inflamation.

His temperature was fine but his blood pressure and heart rate were elevated. “I’m going to give you antibiotics,” you said, holding a finger up against his protests. “It doesn’t look infected, but your vitals are off, and ‘alien dog’ makes me concerned.”

“I’m just… it’s not…” he tried.

“White coat syndrome?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Something like that,” he mumbled, watching the ground with interest.

When you finally caught up on the news that night, you dropped your mug of room-temperature tea at the sight of the alleged alien dog. Understatement of the fucking century. The creature on the screen with Marcus Moreno’s leg in its jaws was less like a dog and more like a furry alligator.

It’s not that he comes by frequently, but it’s enough that you’re never surprised to see him. Mutant chickens flooding the streets? Marcus Moreno knocks at your door covered in peck marks. A league of supervillains arrives with a weather manipulator? Frostbitten Marcus Moreno. A hacker sends a hypnobeam through a mall full of holiday shoppers, leading to hours of line dancing? Marcus Moreno lags in with a limp leg.

This time, though, it’s unclear what his affliction is. Until it isn’t.

He had texted—you had given him your number sometime between the 20th and 50th witching hour visit—but all it said was “coming.”

It was only 2 p.m., but you flipped the sign to closed anyway, preferring to give Marcus some privacy. It was a good thing, too, since his text was apparently dual-purposed.

He’s splotchy all over like a blossoming rash and sweat-slick. His glasses are in his jacket pocket, having been abandoned when they just kept fogging up. He’s wavering on the spot and you reach out to grab him, freezing when you realize he’s still in his tactical suit.

He never comes here in costume. He especially never comes here armed, but sure as shit, there are two katanas on his back.

You reach to yank him inside before he draws attention to himself, but he recoils.

“Don’t!” he yelps. “Don’t t-touch me.”

Instead, he waits until you step back before he squeezes into the lobby and plasters himself to the wall opposite you.

“What happened?” you say.

“Don’t know for sure,” he says, panting. “I got hit with some kind of dart.” He holds it out for you to see, as well as you can in the light that filters through the dusty window and flickering, dim fluorescents overhead. It’s small with a very sharp needle and a clear glass body. You can see the viscous remains of a thick pink liquid, akin to Pepto Bismol.

“Mr. Moreno, this really seems like something beyond my capacity,” you start.

“Please,” he gasps. “I… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here, I-I…”

You sigh. “At least come into the exam room so I can get a better look at you.”

He groans. “Please don’t say things like that,” he mumbles, but inches his way over to the door.

You go to follow, and he holds up a hand.

“How am I supposed to figure out what’s wrong with you if I can’t come in?” you say with your hands on your hips.

“You have to stay on the other side of the room,” he says through gritted teeth, backing up against the table when you enter the room and shut the door.

“Start talking.”

“F-fine. I… I feel…” his face is redder than you’ve ever seen.

It’s then that you notice how he’s shed his leather jacket and is struggling to look nonchalant as he holds it at his waist.

“Like you took ten Viagra?” you wager.

He groans again, covering his face.

You can’t help but think it’s adorable. He’s always kind of adorable, like a broad, superpowered puppy.

“Mr. Moreno,” you start.

“Marcus,” he insists for the hundredth time.

“Marcus,” you acquiesce, “this really is out of my wheelhouse, here. I don’t know how to treat you when you’ve been drugged with a strange aphrodisiac. You need to see medical at headquarters.”

“I did,” he whispers.

“And they wouldn’t help you?” The idea sets your blood aboil.

“No, they… they couldn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“They said it has to run its course. That I need to… I need to…” but he can’t even finish the sentence. This is not how he wanted any of this to go.

The realization burns through you. “You didn’t come here for an exam. You came here for me to treat you. But then… why did you act like you didn’t know what was wrong?”

"I’m sorry,” he groans again. “You’re going to think I’m a total creep.”

And then it adds up. The way he always visits you. The way he blushes. You thought he was just shy or self-conscious. But no.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. “You’ve been coming here for spank bank fodder?”

“N-not just, oh god, please don’t say it like that. I didn’t-I wouldn’t…” he sighs and gives up. “It didn’t start that way.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your throat. The disbelief. “What, is it some kind of nurse kink?”

You can tell you’ve hit his weak spot when he full body cringes.

“I’ll leave. I’m sorry,” he says, mopping the sweat off his forehead with his equally sweaty arm. “I thought if I just saw you that it might be enough to take the edge off.”

“Is that right?” you say, suddenly not finding it very funny. “Take a seat on the table.”

He opens and closes his mouth stupidly.

“Take a seat on the table, Mr. Moreno. I’m going to need to do a full exam. Would you like me to step out of the room while you undress?”

Both of you are equally floored by your boldness. It feels almost wrong, knowing he’s under the influence, but he had admitted to thinking of you while he jerked off, so you were feeling less guilty about getting off to YouTube compilations of him in action.

“Are you sure?” Marcus asks, though he’s already unzipping his suit.

You nod, mouth running dry.

He makes quick work of the suit, sitting before you in a tight pair of purple briefs that strain under the unrelenting pressure of his thick cock. They’re soaked, far more than just pre-cum.

No, it’s very apparent that he’s spilled into his pants multiple times already.

You tsk softly. “You should have come in sooner, Mr. Moreno,” you murmur, bringing your stethoscope to his bare chest and placing your fingers on the inside of his wrist. You don’t pay attention to the fluttering beats of his heart, though, instead taking in the lithe, sinewy muscle of his arms.

“Sorry, nurse,” he whispers.

Your lips curl into a satisfied smirk as you tuck the thermometer under his tongue, which darts out, pink and wet, to take it in. You can’t help but moan, imagining a much better use for it.

He sits squirming on the table, paper crinkling under his ass and a puddle forming in the front, as you continue your exam. Your steady hands move the stethoscope down his back, coaching him softly through deep breaths, and taking the opportunity to feel the planes of his rippling muscles.

“Sit still,” you scold, and he whines.

“Please, I can’t take it.”

“Be a good boy for me, Marcus,” you murmur, and his whole body shudders as he comes, soaking through the saturated cotton and spilling onto the tan padding of the table.

You can’t stop yourself from swiping a finger through it and bringing it to your mouth to taste, moaning softly.

“You’re killing me,” he groans.

“Hmm, that won’t do. Hippocratic oath and all,” you say, rubbing a hand over his thigh. “Now tell me, Mr. Moreno, where does it hurt?”

“You know where it hurts,” he whines.

“Show me how you were trying to fix it on your own,” you say, ignoring his rising, pathetic whimpers.

He wastes no time freeing his cock from the underwear and fisting it, not needing any lubricant other than his own come. He tugs at it fiercely and you click your tongue at him again.

“I think I see the problem,” you say, pulling his hand away and cradling his heavy balls in your own.

“Can you help me, nurse?” he says, practically sobbing from relief at your touch.

“Oh, I definitely can,” you say, kicking out the metal step and sinking to your knees on it. You think about teasing him, but he’s clearly tortured himself enough, so you just take him into your mouth.

He comes immediately, tearful apologies pouring from his mouth, but you swallow him down and shush him soothingly after, stroking his still-hard cock with one hand.

“Shh, don’t worry. I can make it feel better,” you say between kitten licks at his sensitive tip.

He’s writhing on the table again already and sobs in earnest when you take him into your throat and bob your head.

He fists the exam table, paper shredded under his hands, as you draw orgasm after orgasm from his overspent body until finally, finally, his cock flags a little. His heart rate is steadier, but he’s exhausted, flopped back on the table with tear-stained cheeks.

“M’sorry,” he whispers again once he’s gone soft.

“Me too,” you admit. “That’s not really how I imagined this going.”

He lifts his head weakly. “You imagined this?” There’s an unmistakable echo of hope.

“Yeah,” you lay your cards on the table. “I was going to tell you I couldn’t treat you anymore first though. Ethics and all that.”

“I was going to ask you out this weekend,” he confesses, tongue loosened by the night’s activities.

“Okay,” you agree.

“What?”

“Okay, ask me out for this weekend.”

He grins, sloppy and slanted. “Can I take you on a proper date?”

You match his grin. “Mr. Moreno, I thought you’d never ask.”

#writing challenge #marcus moreno fic #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x gn!reader

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mecachrome · 2 months

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hi! @ anon here is my lando accent infodump lmao:

so like landos accent is an ancient secret scientists worldwide have been spending centuries trying to analyse... but im gonna try to sum it up to the best of my abilities

his accent definitely changed with both private school AND international karting / single seaters but what complicates the matter is that his accent was weird to begin with

so using the reference clips k already picked out bc theyre actually rly good:

lando starts off (as far as we know, obvs by the time we have interviews of him he was already heavily involved in karting) with a weird accent

the main building blocks are definitely standard southern / londony working class. but there's also a distinct bristolian twang: notice the "foinal" and "mah mayn competition" and "jamie caroloine" lol (beloved). that bristolian twang is the first thing that goes away once he goes to secondary & is pretty much imperceptible today which is incredibly tragic to me

aside from all that is the weird foreign quality which has stayed in his accent to varying degrees over the years: these sort of flat, almost south african sounding vowels

part of it is 100% his mum & flemish roots. like, the reason i mention south africa specifically is bc i rmbr multiple ppl throwing it out as a guess, & it makes a lot of sense to me considering the dutch influence on the ZA accent. theres also his dyslexia, which often makes him trip over sounds / unsure of some pronounciations / simplify words in his head, and im almost certain that also contributes to his vague 'foreign' tinges

BUT if it was just those things it rly wouldnt explain why it fluctuated sm over the years. like we leave 11 year lando off sounding slightly european, but by the time we return to him at his formula 1 debut in 2019 i see ppl in the comments genuinely unconvinced that hes even british. he pronounces small 'i' sounds as long (think "a-nee-thing") and 'a' sounds flattened almost into 'e's (think "beck" instead of "back"). my reference for plotting where landos accent is at has always been how he says the name max (convenient that hes had by now 2 championship rivals and a best friend with that name) because at its most exagerrated it almost sounds like "mex"

i think what happened to get him to that point was like. as soon as private school flattened the regional twang his accent became even more absorbent than it had been before, and hanging out with so many international people brought out the european aspects of his own accent as well as had him borrow a few of their pronounciations

in 2019-2020 he was either living with sacha fenestraz (french-argentinian, has subtle and imo very charming argentinian accent) or alone & struggled to reconnect with old friends, bc of first the pressures of his rookie year and then the pandemic. this all changed massively in 2021 - at work he got an EFL teammate, at home he had max move in with him, in his social life he started hanging out more with tom bale and connor hughes and british youtube circles. 2021 is also when his accent solidified way more as 'standard southern' & i think it makes sense considering everything

nowadays his accent still varies & still carries some shades of his unique foreign pronounciations but it rests pretty consistently at 'standard southern'. what pushes it into different directions a bit is probably hanging out w garrix & other dutch ppl, as well as him adopting maxf's horrible little habit of mimicry which has him either pulling out the bankai bulgarian even out of context or, on the opposite side, placing the completely incongruous 'bunda' and 'man' into his vocabulary. OH and the even more baffling occasional brummie touches, also from maxf

tldr lando does have the ambiguous euro accent but its a bit more complicated than just spending time in international circles bc i think he is predisposed to speaking like that

as an addendum bc the english class police will come for me: by working class i just mean not posh

HLKSDFHLH kira this is such a dense text i don't even need to add anything!!! i've also seen people be like >WHY DOES HE SOUND SOUTH AFRICAN??? which mildly amuses me but yes all of this makes sense! and omg sacha's accent is sooo fun to me, i remember watching this interview where he talks about it (answering in spanish while his parents spoke to him in french 😭) and identifying as more argentinian than his sister etc. it was very charming. anw tl;dr as you put it i think a lot of it is just him and maxf possessing a natural inclination toward mimicry and a wide social circle LOL

#ask

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bendycxmet · 3 months

Text

Under Your Spell Pt. 2—Vash the Stampede

Summary: Secrets out. Now how does Vash top his previous stream? You have some ideas.

Word Count: ~4.5k

Pairing: gn!reader x camboy!Vash the Stampede

Content: sexual content, nsfw, 18+ MDNI!, handjob, blowjob, edging, voyeurism, whiny vash, teasing reader

a/n: once again, a special order for @biancalattei and @awkwardchick87.

|masterlist| |Part 1|

a large whiteboard sat between you and vash in your living room, markers thrown to the side for twenty minutes now since you both started arguing.

“i’m telling you they’ll love it! baby, it’ll be so hot trust me i know what you guys like-”

“vash, i am being so serious when i tell you the fans will not want to see you fucking me. they are fans for the sole reason that you look sexy jacking off and pleasuring yourself. it would rip them out of their fantasies if they see the gorgeous man they watch every week pleasure someone who is not them. at least for me it would.”

after what you can confidently say was the most dramatic reveal of vash’s side hustle, vash had the genius–and brave–idea to include you in one of his streams as a special guest. a collab if you will. as one of his top supporters, he fully believes this could light a fire under his fans and any potential subscribers, depending on how viral this stream could go in the camming community. a fire you tentatively stoke during your brainstorming session, preventing it from turning into an absolute dumpster fire from vash’s brash ideas.

the night you found each other in the hallway after the stream was emotionally exhausting. the rollercoaster of emotions you went through–embarrassment, shock, trepidation tinged with enthusiasm, and most of all, hope and excitement at a new step in your relationship with vash. you were also physically exhausted that night, repeating what you had done in the stream and wearing the control you had on him thin, finally snapping after denying vash his release for the third time. the shower was hastily shut off and he toted you off to his bedroom, rivulets of water trailing behind you, wetting the sheets as you two went for several rounds, only stopping when you had become essentially boneless.

you take a deep breath, mentally fanning the memories away before you have the slight idea of tackling vash to the floor. besides, you and vash haven't broached the subject of what exactly you two are now, out of fear of potentially ruining what you both have carefully curated? ruining your relationship? who knows.

“let’s remember why you stream. you wanna show how good you feel to your fans, right? and they eat it up every time. i propose we stick to that blueprint, but now, you have someone there to do all the work for you, and you can sit back and just give the people what they want–your reactions.” you tilt your head, questioning if he catches your drift. all he does is imitate you, looking like a curious puppy. you continue. “what if, shoot me down if you want, i’m the one to take you there? blowjob, handjob, what have you, but you can’t touch me. i know you like to be under someone else’s control in some way, having the decisions made for you so you can take a mental back seat. so my second idea would be to tie you to the chair. what do you think?”

vash only looks at you with wide eyes that are full of reverence, shuffling in place. you’re guessing your idea is already affecting him, slyly smiling at him. “i never doubted you for a second mayfly, always the intelligent one between us both.” he gives you a toothy grin. “let’s do it. i have a couple ideas of my own.”

“i’m not doing this naked!” you blurt out.

he shakes his head. “of course not. i would never ask that of you, unless you’re comfortable with it. besides, seeing you like that is reserved for my eyes only.” he fixes his searing eyes on you, undressing you in the moment.

“ok, now question is how and when do we do this-”

“obviously tonight.” you blankly stare at him, opening your mouth, ready to disagree. you were not mentally prepared. he reaches for your hands and places a reassuring kiss to your knuckles. “gotta strike while the iron is hot right? it’ll be a nice surprise for everyone, considering how much fun we all had last week.” he trails his hands down your forearms, rubbing your skin. “trust me ok? i promise it wont be scary once we get into it.”

you’re sitting on vash’s plush red sheets, hands clasped between your thighs, watching as he flits across his room, preparing for the stream that’s due to start in a couple of minutes. you're wearing nothing but one of his sleeping shirts, one that reaches mid-thigh, your underwear, and some socks. the epitome of prudeness, especially for a cam stream.

he adjusts the camera on his desk, checks the lighting, and moves the chair into position. you check him out from behind, admiring his backside that is only covered in his donut-patterned boxers. he’s already wearing his usual getup, bunny ears sticking up from his head. he finally turns to your tense form, sitting next to you and unlatching your hands from each other.

“ok, let’s do a quick rundown of tonight. you, my pretty, will be the one in control of me, for the second time. i am really kinky, huh?” he chuckles, bouncing slightly on the mattress, excited. “stay off to the side until i bring you on. we’ll interact with the chat for a bit because i’m sure they're going to go ballistic. then you’ll tie me up, and you can start with whatever. at your own pace, because i won't be able to do much of course.” you nod, about to stand from the bed when he pulls you back. “also, i have something for you to wear.” from behind his back, he pulls a matching bunny mask, only this one is black.

your inner fan pops out, squealing as you grab it out of his hands. it almost feels like merch, turning it in your hands, feeling the hard plastic material. you pull the strap behind your head, peeping out at him through the eyeholes. “how do i look?”

he pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek. “so unbelievably sexy. if i wasn't hard before, i am now.”

“actually, i meant to ask you about that. you’re always so hard when you click in. do you jack off before-” he shushes you, fingertip to your lips.

“a magician never reveals his secrets. alright. let’s get started. stand by my desk.”

you two get into position, standing off to the side as vash clicks the start button on his computer.

“good evening everyone! what a lovely, horny night we’re having!” his booming, charming voice rings out into the room. you stifle a giggle. he usually isn’t this loud in his streams. you wonder if his more quieter nature from before was him attempting to hide this from you.

>hello fellow sex havers. or not. we’re all here tonight instead of getting laid

>hey shut up

>has anyone seen bonbon? they’re usually here by now but i’m not seeing them in the participants list

>oh true. where’s our bonbon??

“i actually have an answer to that chat. i think you’re gonna like this.” he drums his fingers on his desk. “drumroll everyone! say hello to our beloved bonbon!” he reaches his hand out to you, palm facing up. you place your hand in his warm one, take a deep breath, and step into the view of the camera, glad for the mask.

the reaction is immediate.

>WAITWAITWAIT

>r u being for real right now?! is this mf AI??

>bonbon in the fleshhhh

>collab of the century!!!

>matching bunny masks?? i hope they fuck like rabbits too

>chill

your muscles relax. you’re eternally grateful that vash has pulled in a supportive fanbase. you wave at the screen.

“hi everyone. as you know, i am bonbon721. our boy here…invited me out here for a collab, and i thought, why not make our favorite cammer do what we want in person?” waves of comments roll through, agreeing and congratulating you on making the ultimate next step. you mentally pull a mask on, placing yourself into the role of a cam collaborator. what would make this go to the next level?

vash quirks his eyebrows, feeling a sudden shift in the atmosphere. he feels rather than sees you walk around him, circling him as if he was prey under the steely, hungry gaze of a predator.

“i know i’m the fortunate one to be here, touching, kissing our man.” your hands graze his shoulders as you walk around the back of his chair, lips soon following where you touched him. he’s gone quiet. “i have a plan. but i want to add your input in there as well. add a couple of suggestions in the chat. i’ll pick the best ones. i’ll give you a minute. go.”

vash whips his head towards you. “uh…bonbon? what’re you doing?”

>suck on his toes-

*comment has been deleted by moderators*

>make him bark for you

>you should sit in the chair and have him service you~

>cmon man show some respect to bonbon

>blindfold him

>sensory depravation all the wayy ^^

your eyes catch on those last comments. you grin, teeth flashing in the light from his ring light. vash felt the slow, creeping feeling that he was falling into a trap. this was supposed to be his channel. how had you managed to sabotage his stream in the first three minutes?

“sensory depravation? love that we’re all so kinky here.” you search around his room, spotting a loose scarf on his floor. “i certainly can DIY my way around that.”

“um. can we pump the brakes a little bit? you guys are scaring me a bit,” vash nervously chuckles, eyes flitting to you for reassurance. you bend down to whisper in his ear. “you said to trust you tonight. know that it goes both ways angel.” you kiss the shell of his ear. “plus, we have cheerleaders in the chat.”

the chat is quickly pouring in love and support for vash, various amounts of ‘you got this!’ and ‘dont be a wuss we’re just a couple of virgins.’ the comments seem to easily lift his spirits, vash puffing up his chest in an amusing display of heroic confidence.

“im back! nothing like a little shyness to humble you from time to time.” you kiss the corner of his lips, the chat gushing at the simple affection.

“ready everyone? i’ll start by tying him down to the chair. don’t want him moving too much now do we?” you grab the ribbon from the desk, looping it through the holes in the desk chair and securing it to his wrists. vash flexes his hands, testing the strength of the ribbon. “not too tight?” you whisper, eyeing him for any discomfort. he shoots you a loving glance through the mask’s eyeholes, the care in them obscured by the plastic. he shakes his head at your question.

you slip back into your role, standing and turning back to assess the camera. “now for our favorite new addition–depriving him of sight. say bye everyone!” with that, the red cloth of the scarf is placed over his eyes, severing him from the world around him.

“perfect, doesn’t he look like such a good boy chat?” their agreement is obvious in the comments.

>ohhh im hard already hurryyyy

>this is bonbon’s stream now. go bonbon!

>yo get to it already

“uh, hello? are you still there bonbon?” comes vash’s cautious whine, set on edge at your silence. you decide to heed the chat’s commands and get to work.

you drop down until your eye level with his crotch. you kiss his inner knee, barely moving in time to miss the jolt of his knees, surprised by the warm press of your lips leading to his intimates. you brush your hands up his thighs, reaching for the waistband of his boxers, digging in and pulling them down his legs. he lifts his hips to help you, your eyes fixed on the bob of his flushed cock as it springs out, fully ready. no matter how many times you have seen it, it still manages to make your mouth water.

he juts his hips up, needy for your immediate attention, his cock swaying with the movement. you chuckle darkly, moving your hands back up his thighs, lightly grazing your nails along the way, pulling a loud whine that echoes out into the dark room.

“you thought i’d start by rewarding you with my mouth? you need to work for it first, show me how obedient you can be.” you stand back up, your hands delicately trail along his forearm, touching where the ribbon keeps him down, up to his bare shoulders, squeezing the hard muscles there. he whimpers at how helpless he now feels to you. you lean down, throwing your arm around his other shoulder and whisper into his ear. “if you’ll be so good for me during this stream, your real reward will come later…off camera.” he grunts at your suggestion, cock jumping in your peripheral.

>ooo whatever they said totally turned him on even more

>god i wish i were bonbon rn

the comments continue to flood in, but all your focus now is on vash and making him feel the best he has ever felt during his streams. you feel as if you have an angel and a devil on your shoulder, one begging to you ruin him for all his future streams, making it harder for him to cum without you there while the other is begging you to take a step back from the spotlight, to remember whose stream this belongs to. you choose to listen to the former.

you smooth your hand does his front, pinching and rolling his perked, pink nipples before continuing your journey down south. you feel a bit dizzy as your fingers brush through his happy trail, his stomach warm, realizing now that you have been secretly checking off your fantasy list. you indulge for a moment, twirling and rubbing the softness at his navel before finally touching where he has been yearning for your soft touch. he keens loudly, a loud exhale coming from him as he finally feels your hand encircle his tip.

“i bet i can get you there faster than yourself.”

his teeth clamp shut, leather gloves squeezing around the arms of his chair. “i dont doubt it for a second. you’ve already had me on edge for five minutes now.” you feel pride bloom in your chest, a prowling sense of possession creeping up in you, wishing you could now keep the image of him in ecstasy for yourself, away from the prying eyes of his subscribers. you shake your head of those thoughts, reminding yourself that you are a guest and this is his stream. you kiss his lobe, abruptly squeezing him, beginning a fast rhythm, your stroking causing him to arch his back, both towards the pleasure and away.

you press your arm against his chest, pushing him back into his chair, stilling your hand. “good boys don’t move. will you be my good boy or not?” you pet his head, threading your hands through his wig and yanking his head back, exposing his throat, watching it bob as he brokenly gasps his pleasure. you mouth at the lines of his throat, suckling softly, working your hand in tandem with your mouth. he starts to pull at his ties, pushing against your arm as his noises start to pitch.

“please let me cum p-please i can’t hold on anymore-” the chair begins to rattle as his thighs shake, a loud thunk sounding from where he digs his heels into the flooring, driving his release away until you give him permission. an answering knock comes from the floor. yeah, the neighbors are definitely going to file a noise complaint.

“i’ve been too mean to you, haven’t i?” you coo. “cum.”

his teeth dig harshly into his lips, preventing his pretty noises from escaping. a nasty habit in your eyes. you quickly grab both sides of his cheeks, pressing your fingers in to force him to let go of his lips, satisfied mewls tumbling out of his throat right as hot spurts of cum coat your fingers. he turns in your hand, kissing your palm in thanks.

“well that was…yummy,” you quip at the chat, licking your fingers free of his release, realizing vash can’t see you indulging in him, slurping loudly to cue him in. his answering gasp and twitch of his cock showing his endless endurance.

>god what i would give to lick up that mess

>i bet he tastes good

“oh he does. not really salty, actually. ill leave the rest to your imagination.” you quirk your head to the side as vash lays panting before you, cum cooling on his hot skin. “i should help clean him up. i did make a mess of him.” you twirl the chair so that the camera can catch both of you in a side angle. you drop to your knees, giving yourself a moment to inhale the scent of him, nuzzling into his thighs before tilting your head up. your hot breaths are hitting vash’s cock just right, and he might cum from that.

“want me to clean you up?”

“do you even have to ask?” he opens his legs further, bumping you from your comfortable spot on his thighs. you set to work, first licking up his release from his skin. it really isnt a bad taste, settling on your tongue nicely before you swallow. you nose along his shaft, breathing in his muskiness, tip hitting your lips. you gather some of his cum and use it as makeshift lube, stroking him slowly as you open your lips to take the tip in.

“fuck!” he yelps. “i swear it feels better each time.” although he says the last part in a hushed voice, you’re afraid the mic is still picking him up. you glance back at the chat, but don’t see any indication of his proclamation. you still shush him.

“mayfly, you need to take this damn scarf off. i need to see you.”

“hmm, i don’t think you’re allowed to tell me what to do. remember who’s in charge here,” you say as you come up for air, stroking him through your sentence.

“you’re playing with fire,” he bites out, jolting his hips as he nears his release for the second time that night.

“maybe i wanna be burned,” you shoot back, tongue flicking his slit. he growls darkly at you in warning before a small smirk makes his way onto his face. a comical, exaggerated moan falls from his lips, the first vowels of your name slowly being said in the fake throes of his orgasm. in panic, your hand shoots up to squeeze his throat, forcing him to swallow the rest of your name. “don’t you dare-”

“i would never, bonbon. i’m only playing. remove the scarf.” you huff, snatching the scarf from his mask. “good. hello chat! long time no see!” he gives a tiny wave from where his hands remain tied. “now, keep going love.”

you roll your eyes at him before engulfing him in your hot mouth once again. after being denied of his sight for so long, the view of you on your knees, delivering him pleasure, pushes him one step closer to his orgasm.

the hot and heavy weight of him in your mouth turns even you on, your eyelids at half-mast as you stare up at him, vash’s muscles twitching with each sensation that flares through his nerves. he sees you eyeing him, looking down at you and maintaining eye contact as he softly whimpers. your arousal is dripping from you at this point, and you may come yourself just from watching him. he spots your hand that isn’t stroking him move down to your panties, gaze heady as he watches you pleasure yourself, your eyes falling shut.

>this is so incredibly hot

> yess bonbon wrap that man around your finger

the sight of you having his most intimate part in your mouth fires him up. he jolts his hips suddenly, making you gag, your throat constricting around him just right. he wails, thighs tensing as that one little move nearly pushes him over. you meant to glare up at him for making you gag, but his pretty and delicate moans soften your fleeting harsh exterior.

you pop off of him, staving off his orgasm. he whines at your denial. “bonbon, please, just let me cum. i’ll let you do anything else you want to me.”

“hm, i don’t want to give it to you that quickly. you think i’m easy? try again.”

his jaw clenches. “you’re the only one that can make me feel like this please do something. i would be on my knees right now if i could. but just please let me cum, i promise i’m your good boy!”

“now was that so hard pretty boy? all you had to do was ask~” with that final lilt in your voice, you quickly deepthroat him, holding down his thighs with your arms while your hands splay out against his stomach, massaging his muscles as they clench up. a barrage of noises fill your ears. the tightening squeak of leather on metal. the shaking of the loose screws in his desk chair. a punched out, surprised breath above you and then…shattered, pleased groans as he shoots his release down your throat. you hold steady, even though your gag reflex is begging for relief from the intrusion in your throat, massaging his shaft with your tongue as the final spurts make their way home in your throat. you finally let up once his moans turn into overstimulated mewls.

you sit back on your haunches, rubbing your hands on his thighs. the both of you stare at each other, incredulous for a moment, lost in a world of your own before the consistent dinging of the chat pulls you two back. you both burst out laughing, falling onto his thighs, feeling the burning heat of his body lean over you in an armless hug.

>this is one for the books

>SOMEONE SCREENSHOT THIS THIS IS PEAK

>they have wayyy more than chemistry here they gotta be dating now

>how are you gonna top this??

vash begins to talk with the chat now, his sentences a little funny, his words slurring together as he recovers. you make slow work of untying the ties from his hands, rubbing his wrists and placing a gentle kiss on each arm.

“can we all give a round of applause for bonbon? let’s appreciate that they’ve made me cum harder than even last time! twice! i really don’t know if i can top this stream now.” he grasps your head as you move to stand up, turning to give you a grateful kiss. he gives one last peck to your cheek before returning to the chat, not seeing the sheepish smile that is etched on your burning face.

>r u 2 seeing each other

>if not yall should you seem cute together

>our man x bonbon who woulda thought? i mean…all of us did

“ok ok settle down everyone, i know we’re all riding our highs of what just happened but i really wanted this to be a special thank you to everyone here-”

>lies! fess up you coward! you like them!

>its so obvious you cant hide it! there was way more than lust in your guys’ eyes

“uh. well. hey you see, that’s because-”

>wait hows bonbon doing? speech!

you watch as the rest of the chat agrees. you swoop in, stopping vash from trying to navigate whatever the two of you have publicly on his channel. “im ok guys. im actually really happy to be here and to have experienced this all. so i want to say thank you not only to this beautiful, gorgeous man-” you feel vash’s arms hug you tightly to his side. “-but also to you, for being so engaging and supportive of me being here. with that, i’ll see everyone next week in the chat!” you wave goodbye to them.

“before i sign off here actually, i do have something to say.” you look down at vash, not expecting him to look so nervous. he inhales slowly. “we’re actually dating. love and peace!” he quickly clicks the end stream button, hiding his face in your side.

you stand there, stunned. did he really just make you two official on his live stream?

you bring his head out from where it's stuck to your hip, finally able to see the embarrassed look on his face. “care to explain? that wasn’t just a hail mary to get more donations right?”

he looks aghast at your suggestion. “no! never! ever! would i do that to you. ugh, i actually have been wanting to ask you officially to be with me, and my love for you just reached its peak there and i needed to get it out. i’m sorry-”

“dont apologize. i’ve been waiting for this for awhile… i just wasn’t expecting it to be during your stream. i mean, don’t you think they won’t like that you’re taken now?” he scoffs at you.

“hey bonbon, look at the screen.” you glance over, reading through the comments that were still coming in.

>YES my endgame. i can finally go to bed peacefully

>if i can’t have him, i want bonbon to have him

>real long time coming you two. wishing you the best. although, i hope this isn’t the end of his streams

your eyes well up, glad for all the support and happy that vash’s camming career didn’t just end. vash stands, taking you in his arms. “so does that mean you’ll have me as your boyfriend?” you squeal at the word, throwing yourself into his embrace. the road you two took to get here from just friends can be called anywhere from unconventional to ludicrous. you nod your agreement into his chest. vash whoops his victory and pulls back from you.

“now~” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. glancing down, you see he’s hard. again. “i seem to recall you getting off from me cumming into your mouth.” you gasp at his raunchiness, swatting at his chest. he cackles, grabbing your hand in his to drag you back to him, his other hand swiping at your lower half, feeling the wetness there. “i don’t believe you quite got there though. mind if i get that reward you mentioned earlier?”

he begins walking you toward his bed. you giggle at his antics. “you’re insatiable.”

“stop being so desirable.” with that, he has you trapped beneath him, loving kisses being shared throughout the rest of the night.

a/n: sigh...i need this man like air. thanks for your support! xoxo

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#vash x reader #vash x reader smut #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede x reader smut #vash the stampede #trigun x reader #trigun x reader smut #trigun #trigun smut #trigun stampede #trigun stampede smut #tristamp #tristamp smut #bendycxmet writes

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mnemosyne-nyx · 1 year

Text

✨ Bruce Wayne Headcanons that haunt me but I refuse to elaborate on even if they're utterly wrong Pt. 2✨

Going feral over this man

Hal and Bruce almost share a birthday and it fucking infuriates Bruce for no reason.

My guy was a rebellious teenager growing up, you know, trauma baby tings but also wanting to distance himself from the elite society (I mean rich Gotham really is a different cesspool of evilness lmao who can blame the poor guy.) Not to get deep but the beginning of his crusade was him wanting to seek a life and identity beyond the Wayne name right and witness Gotham from all angles. However, after realising he can both honour and build upon his legacy, Bruce destroyed any proof of this phase as he associates it with his turbulent and troubled coming of age. Little does he know there's a box filled with Polaroids within the 73288199 attics of Wayne Manor ready for his kids to find plus his detailed knowledge about the punk scene of Gotham makes them suspicious anyway.

Bruce learns a lot from his children. He may be their mentor but he's definitely learnt acrobatic tricks from Dick Grayson, combat and body language from Cass etc etc. Black Canary one day complimenting an acrobatic move of Bruce's only for him to have learnt it from one 11 year old Dick Grayson.

Bruce knows every nook and cranny of the watchtower. This guy designed, funded and helped build this fucking thing. Superman can hear him fuckin scurrying in the hundreds of boiler rooms, hidden corridors and storage rooms like a human rat. Flash doesn't understand how this man just teleports from one end of the tower to the other not knowing Bruce built trapdoors, hidden passageways, fake walls in this place. Bruce has a hiding spot in the upper levels of the watchtower where a small window gives view to Earth. J'onn is the only leaguer who can rival Batman in his watchtower knowledge.

He is the unofficial caretaker of the justice league. He makes sure all catering and quarters are fully equipped to people's needs. Overhears a leaguer saying there aren't enough vegetarian options? Bam, fully renewed menu. Barry complaining he can't sleep because his quarter is too cold? Bam, temperature risen. Small things like office supplies, medical equipment - he's always taking mental notes of. He knows what leaguer is allergic to what too. Lad keeps the watchtower STOCKED

The League never fails to wish a member a happy birthday. Somehow word always gets out and no one really knows how the date gets around. It's Bruce. He knows everyone's birthdays. Sometimes photogenic memory doesn't work in his favour. When it comes to respect, compassion and love - Bruce isn't the verbal type. He prefers to show it through action - I mean he crusades around Gotham to show his need to protect people for God's sake. Therefore, he sets like a reminder anonymously on the watchtower monitor for some random hero to find.

My guy HATES Asmr.

Bruce's hair is naturally thick and actually pretty darn curly. Superman is renowned for having the curls, but Bruce - with dirty, grown out hair - can give him a run for his money. His curls never show though as he keeps his hair very short and often has it sleeked back in public (as Thomas and Alfred always told him it was neater and more proper that way.)

He is a PERFECT mix between Thomas and Martha. Everyone who ever meets Brucie Wayne for the first time tells him he's the spitting image of both of them.

My man was a heartthrob in the 90s. Dick and Tim frequently Google "Bruce Wayne 90s" and bust a gut laughing at how their old man is like in every fuckin teenage magazine published in that decade.

#batfam #bruce wayne #batman #justice league #brucie wayne #jla #dc comics #dc headcanon #WHY IS THERE LITERALLY NO ADOLESCENT BRUCE LORE WTF??#Me pondering with my pipe as I reinvent the entirety of the DC universe in my cobwebbed study #Sometimes I like giving batman human emotions so I can imagine Andrew tate fans getting angry at it just to feel something

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thebunnednun · 5 months

Text

Whispers of the Heart Dracule Mihawk x Fm! Reader (Chapter 2)

Picking up from the first chapter.

Art by @xuchuan25

Backstory:

You've been Dracule Mihawk's personal maid and housekeeper for what feels like an eternity. Let's cut to the chase – you're a badass, sweetheart. Sexy, cool, and confident, with a reputation that precedes you. Been friends with the stoic man for eons by now.

Everyone knows you or knows of you, and it's not just because you keep Mihawk's castle running like a well-oiled machine.

So what happens when you develop feelings for your old friend and boss?

What does he do when he comes home to find you in his room without your panties?

_________________Chapter 2: Fragments of Feelings_______________

"Perona, my dear, would you care to assist me in preparing afternoon tea?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips. The warmth of spring beckoned, and you longed to savor the pleasant weather before the bugs emerged to disturb your tranquility. Perona's enthusiastic nod was all the confirmation you needed before she darted inside, unable to contain her excitement.

Chuckling at her exuberance, you called out, "Zoro will be joining us later!~"

Unbeknownst to you, both Mihawk and Perona stiffened at the mention of Zoro's arrival. Mihawk sighed, realizing that you had withheld this information from him, likely as a response to his perceived slight at breakfast. Meanwhile, Perona squealed with delight at the prospect of her old roommate and friend joining them at the castle once more.

As the time for afternoon tea drew near, you immersed yourself in preparations, meticulously arranging an assortment of pastries and tea cakes on a delicate china platter. Perona flitted about eagerly, her pink hair trailing behind her like a vibrant ribbon as she eagerly helped set the table.

Caught in the whirlwind of activity, your mind couldn't help but wander back to the intriguing interaction you had shared with Mihawk over breakfast. Despite your best efforts to focus on the task at hand, his enigmatic presence lingered in your thoughts, his piercing gaze and subtle gestures haunting your every waking moment.

'The fucker could've at least asked for a bite.'

At that moment, you couldn't help but acknowledge that you were indeed caught in the throes of infatuation. (COugh*DOwn bad*CoUgh)

'He's definitely an odd one, no doubt about it. But hey, who isn't a little quirky?' You offered this casual remark, trying to downplay the deeper thoughts swirling in your mind.

As you gazed off into the distance, your mind wandered to him, the man you had known for so long. The memory of his biceps curling and the sight of his broad shoulders made you smile, evoking feelings you only allowed yourself to entertain in the quiet solitude of the night.

As you put the finishing touches on the spread, the sound of footsteps reverberated through the halls, signaling Zoro's arrival. Turning to greet him, a warm smile graced your lips, and your heart fluttered at the sight of the rugged swordsman. With open arms, you welcomed him into a hug, feeling his shy reciprocation, careful not to squeeze too tightly.

"Hey, [Name]," Zoro greeted you, his voice gruff yet oddly comforting. "Perona mentioned tea. Mind if I join?"

You chuckled at his straightforwardness, gesturing for him to take a seat at the outside table. "Of course not, Zoro. You're always welcome here," you replied warmly, pouring him a cup of tea, with just a hint of wine, as he settled into his seat.

As you all sat down to enjoy the afternoon together, you couldn't ignore the tension in the air, a palpable energy crackling between you and Zoro. Catching your eye, he offered a small smile, his lips twitching in a silent toast as he raised his cup.

"Here's to unexpected reunions," Zoro said, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

Raising your own cup in response, you felt the warmth of the tea soothing your frayed nerves. "To unexpected reunions," you echoed softly, taking a sip as you let the moment wash over you.

But just as you settled into the comfortable silence, the sound of footsteps broke through the tranquility, signaling Mihawk's arrival. Glancing up, you found him standing in the doorway, his gaze fixed on you with a curious intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Ah, [Name], I see you've already begun tea," Mihawk remarked, his voice smooth as silk as he crossed the room to join you at the table. "Mind if I join you?"

You smiled sweetly at the old eagle. "Of course, ‘Master’ Mihawk," you replied, gesturing for him to take a seat. “Do forgive me, I didn’t notice you had already risen from your morning nap.” He rolled his eyes but approached the table and took a seat next to you and Perona as you poured him a cup of wine.

As the four of you sat down to enjoy tea together, you couldn't shake the feeling of being caught in the middle of a brewing storm. With Zoro on one side and Mihawk on the other, you found yourself torn between two worlds, each pulling you in a different direction.

But as the conversation flowed and laughter filled the air, a sense of peace settled over you. In that moment, regardless of what the future held, you cherished these fleeting moments of happiness. It almost made you miss life on the sea. When was the last time you had even traveled back home to your island?

With the sun climbing higher into the sky, warming the castle grounds, gratitude filled you for the unexpected reunions and the bonds that held you together, even in the face of uncertainty.

"So, Zoro, are you still as hopeless with directions as ever?" Perona teased, her tone laced with playful sarcasm as she shot a pointed glance at the moss-head swordsman. Zoro scowled in response, his jaw tensing as he bristled at the jab. "I'll have you know, I've improved significantly since our last encounter," he retorted, annoyance dripping from his voice.

Perona rolled her eyes, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips as she leaned back in her chair. "Oh, please. We both know you'd be lost even with a map and a compass," she shot back, her tone teasing yet strangely affectionate.

The exchange between the two quickly escalated into a full-blown argument, with insults flying back and forth like daggers in the air. You watched with amusement as they bickered like siblings, their banter a familiar melody that echoed through the room. It was sweet, sitting there and exchanging glances with Mihawk over the wards as they traded insults.

Almost as if you were parents.

"Enough, you two," Mihawk interjected, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "We're here to enjoy tea, not engage in petty squabbles."

Perona and Zoro fell silent at his reprimand, casting sheepish glances at each other before reluctantly conceding defeat. You couldn't help but smile at the sight, grateful for the brief moment of respite from the chaos that often surrounded you.

Placing a hand on Mihawk's bicept, you smiled at the two, causing them to perk back up and resume the conversation. When you retrieved your hand to offer more tea, Mihawk missed the soft warmth it provided.

As the afternoon wore on, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, with Perona regaling Zoro all with tales of her adventures on Thriller Bark and Zoro recounting his latest training sessions with Luffy and the rest of the crew. Despite the occasional disagreement, the four of you found common ground and shared a rather good lunch together.

With a smile on your face and warmth in your heart, you raised your cup in a silent toast to the bonds that held you together, stronger than steel and unbreakable as the dawn.

As the afternoon tea concluded, you and Mihawk found yourselves facing a mountain of dirty dishes in the kitchen. With a sigh, you rolled up your sleeves and got to work, Mihawk joining you without hesitation.

As you scrubbed and rinsed, the sound of laughter drifted in from the adjacent room, where Zoro and Perona were engaged in their own conversation. You couldn't help but smile at the familiar sound, grateful for the moments of camaraderie that you shared with your friends.

"Looks like they're getting along," you remarked, glancing over at Mihawk as you handed him a plate to dry.

Mihawk nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Indeed. It's good to see them catching up," he replied, his voice soft with genuine affection.

The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm as you worked, the silence punctuated only by the occasional clink of dishes and the sound of water running in the sink. Despite the mundane task at hand, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you in Mihawk's presence.

As you finished the last of the dishes, you wiped your hands on a towel and turned to Mihawk with a grateful smile. "Thanks for helping out," you said, sincerity shining in your voice.

Mihawk nodded in response, his gaze meeting yours with a gentle warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. "Of course. Anything for you, my dear," he replied, his voice low and content. Even after living together and having known him for more than half your life you never fully got over the effect his eyes had on you.

You felt your cheeks heat at his words, a fluttering sensation stirring in the pit of your stomach. Mihawk was leaning down to your height and dangerously close to your face. Before you could respond, however, the sound of footsteps interrupted the moment, and Zoro and Perona entered the kitchen, their laughter echoing off the walls.

"Looks like we're just in time," Zoro remarked, flashing you a grin as he grabbed a towel and joined Mihawk at the sink. You tore away from each other like parents caught having a moment alone.

"So nice to see mother and father getting along!~"

You both shot them a playful death glare before using your best 'motherly' voice. "Young man, there's dishes in this sink with your name on them!" Zoro resorted to a barking laugh and you caught the tiniest upturn of Mihawks lips before he turned his attention to the wine glasses.

Perona rolled her eyes playfully, but there was a hint of fondness in her gaze as she watched the scene unfold. "Typical men, leaving all the work to us," she teased, nudging you with her elbow.

You chuckled in response, grateful for the distraction as you helped Zoro and Mihawk finish drying the dishes. Despite the chaos of the day, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment settle over you as you worked side by side with your friends, the bonds of friendship stronger than ever.

As the dishes were being dried, Mihawk cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "I have an announcement to make," he began, his voice commanding the room's attention.

"I will be leaving on a mission again soon. [Name], I trust you to take care of everything while I am away."

You felt a pang of sadness at the news, knowing that you would miss Mihawk's presence in the castle. However, you quickly masked your emotions with your usual flirty and sassy demeanor, offering him a playful smirk.

"Don't worry, Mihawk. I'll throw you a big surprise party for your return," you replied, your voice dripping with confidence. The old eagle grimace at the thought of company and flashed you a hot warning with his eyes before he nodded and took Zoro with him to the shoreline to prepare his boat, leaving you alone with Perona.

As soon as Mihawk and Zoro left, you excused yourself from the kitchen, slipping away quietly to pack Mihawk's bags. Alone in his chambers, you couldn't help but feel a sense of longing wash over you as you folded his clothes and packed his belongings. You knew that there were some nights before where you snuck into his chambers to sleep.

Meanwhile, in another part of the castle, Perona approached you with a knowing look in her eyes. "You seem a little sad," she remarked, her voice soft with concern. You shrugged nonchalantly, attempting to brush off her observation. "It's nothing," you replied, forcing a smile. "Just a little tired, that's all."

Perona raised an eyebrow skeptically but didn't press the matter further. Instead, she changed the subject, her thoughts drifting to the unspoken feelings between you and Mihawk. "You know, I can tell that you have feelings for him," she said quietly, her gaze searching for you for confirmation.

You felt your ears flush at her words, but you quickly composed yourself, determined not to let your emotions get the best of you. "I have no idea what you're talking about," you replied coyly, hoping to deflect her suspicions.

You paused, considering her question carefully. It wasn't that you didn't want to give Perona an honest answer; rather, you found yourself grappling with the complexity of your emotions. After all, your feelings for each of them were unique and multifaceted.

You cherished Perona like a daughter, reveling in the opportunity to care for her and nurture her like your own. And when Zoro stayed over, you found joy in fussing over him, listening eagerly as he regaled you with tales of his friends and adventures. Even Mihawk, with his reserved demeanor, always held a special place in your heart.

Despite his lack of overt romantic gestures, you appreciated the thoughtfulness he always extended toward you, from opening his home to you to allowing you the freedom to make it your own.

As you glanced back at Perona, who sat contentedly with her stuffed bear, your gaze shifted to the black luggage you were arranging. The scene struck you with a pang of familiarity, reminiscent of a wife preparing for her husband's business trip.

It was a peculiar feeling, one that stirred a mixture of emotions within you, leaving you pondering the complexities of your relationships with each of them.

The evening wore on, everyone reconvened for dinner, the atmosphere filled with lively chatter and laughter. Mihawk checked in on you periodically throughout the meal, but you played it off like everything was fine, masking your true feelings behind a facade of confidence and composure.

After desert, Perona and Zoro excused themselves, heading to the drawing room to play games before inevitably dozing off on the sofa. You and Mihawk remained behind, clearing away the remnants of dinner before joining them in the drawing room.

Upon entering, you found Perona and Zoro fast asleep, their heads resting against each other, a faint smile on their faces. You couldn't help but smile at the sight, the warmth of the fire casting a golden hue over the room.

With a soft smile, you removed your shawl and draped it over them, tucking them in gently before turning to Mihawk. He nodded in silent agreement and set about adding more logs to the fire, casting a warm glow over the room.

Together, you quietly retreat to the staircase, and Mihawk paused for a moment, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the otherwise silent castle. It was then that Mihawk broke the silence, his voice soft and filled with concern.

"[Name], are you really okay?" he asked, stopping at your bedroom door. His hand gently reaching out to touch your forehead before cupping your cheek for a fleeting moment. "You barely touched your supper."

You met his burning gaze, finding solace in the warmth of his touch and the genuine concern in his eyes. With a small nod, you offered a faint smile, silently appreciating the comfort he provided in the midst of your inner turmoil.

The way he made you feel naked and bare while fully clothed will always be a wonder to you.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'm fine, Mihawk. Just a bit tired," you replied, grateful for his concern. His approach was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to his usual stoicism.

Taking this as you feeling cold, Mihawk placed his jacket over your shoulders before tipping your jaw towards him once more.

"Goodnight, [Name]. Sweet dreams and sleep well," his voice was low and smooth, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you. It was a routine you had grown accustomed to over the years, yet it never failed to make you feel like royalty, like the most cherished person in the world.

"Goodnight, old friend," you whispered back, your voice barely above a breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched him retreat to his chambers.

Once he was out of sight, you hurried into your room, closing the door behind you with a soft click. Leaning against the cool wood, you took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. The encounter had left you feeling breathless and exhilarated, your mind swirling with a whirlwind of emotions.

With trembling fingers, you pressed your hand against your chest, trying to steady the erratic beating of your heart. It was moments like these that made you acutely aware of the depth of your feelings for him, feelings you had long tried to suppress.

But as you stood there in the quiet of your room, the realization washed over you like a tidal wave. You were hopelessly, irrevocably in love with him, and there was no denying it any longer.

Feeling overwhelmed, you sank to the floor, your head spinning with a whirlwind of emotions. You pressed your palms against your cheeks, trying to calm the heat that flushed your skin.

Despite your best efforts to push the thoughts aside, they lingered, refusing to be ignored. You knew you couldn't keep hiding from your feelings, couldn't keep pretending that everything was fine when it wasn't. However, you didn't know what would become of your bestfriend if you let your emotions take control.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself up from the floor, determined to ignore your emotions head-on. But for now, you allowed yourself a moment of vulnerability, a moment to acknowledge the depth of your longing before steeling yourself for what lay ahead.

Because deep down, your heart aches at the thought of Mihawk leaving again, and you couldn't help but wonder if he would ever truly understand the depth of your feelings for him.

______________________________________________________________

Part 1 posted: Here

Part 3: Posted Here

Part 4 is here my loves.

Part 5 is now posted

This is also posted on the a03 account by the same name. A new update post will also be out tomorrow regarding updates and new stories.

Please check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. Drop a follow as well if you please.

Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33

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fayes-fics · 2 years

Text

More Than Friends

Friends + Masterpost

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: Sequel. Set a couple of months after Are We Friends? After a week away, Anthony missed his girl a lot...

Warnings: 18 smut. minors DNI, handjobs, masturbation (incl. with shower head), vaginal sex, wall/shower sex, touch of edging/denial, unexpected feels in the heart area.

Word Count: 4.8k

Authors Note: This is birthday request fill for @colettebronte for her recent birthday. She requested a sequel to Are We Friends? Sorry I'm a few days late, I hope you enjoy this enough to compensate. This didn’t go where I expected. I know it's Christmas Eve and this isn't remotely Christmassy. Sorry about that. Anyway please enjoy <3

You groan as the insistent buzz of your phone on your bedside table rouses you. You fumble to pick it up and squint at the name onscreen, reluctantly swiping to answer.

“What excuse do you have for calling me at…,” you pull the phone away from your face briefly, grimacing at the brightness, “… 2:13 am, and it better be because you are on fire or something,” you grumble.

“I love how grouchy you are when you wake up,” his baritone voice laced with amusement.

“Bridgerton,” your tone is a warning.

“I was hoping you’d let me in,” Anthony chuckles.

You sit bolt upright. “You are here? Now? Why?!”

“Yes, and yes, I figured ringing your phone was politer than your doorbell. To the last part, do I need a reason?” he drops almost an octave lower,

“Oh god, is this a booty call?” you mime brushing a gross substance off yourself even though he can’t see you.

“Are you going to let me in or not?” He chides but with no heat, evading the question.

“If you answer these riddles three…” you begin, your spirited antagonism still there despite your burgeoning relationship.

“Let me in, weirdo,” he chortles.

“Okay, okay.”

You throw back the covers and shuffle to your front door on autopilot, still not fully awake. Opening the front door to find a suave, suited man with no tie and two buttons of his crisp white shirt undone. You almost resent how debonair and put-together he is in the early hours. It's been a week since you saw him in person, and you are surprised as you realise how much you missed him, as he stands before you in flesh and blood.

“You look adorable,” he sighs fondly and steps over the threshold to embrace you.

It just dawns on you; you didn't even check your reflection on the way to the door. Your hair is probably a state, but at least you can usually pull off a spaghetti-strapped top and pyjama bottoms.

“Shut up, I do not; I look sexy and fierce,” you lobby as his arms wrap tight around your waist.

“Of course you do. Adorably sexy,” he placates with mock assurance, his breath warm on your neck as he rests his head on your shoulder, curling into you. On instinct, you hug him back and push your front door closed over his shoulder.

“So what are you doing here?” your bemusement muffled into the hair at his temple as he hunches over you. Up close, you can see a few greys, and it does something to you that you don't want to think about. There are traces of his cologne, but mostly he just smells like Anthony, and you breathe deep, the scent both comforting and stimulating.

“I missed you,” he says simply.

“I saw you yesterday on Facetime, weirdo,” you point out, parroting back his word but enjoying the extended embrace. He hasn't kissed you yet, which is unusual—this seems more affectionate than sexual.

“That’s not the same,” he argues, his lips brushing the sensitive skin under your ear, his hug even tighter. “My plane just landed; I had my driver drop me here.”

“Is that because Ealing is closer to Heathrow than Mayfair?” your query tinged with a touch of sarcasm.

“No, weirdo, it's because I wanted to see you,” he pulls away from your shoulder and cups your face. “But I'm glad it's closer; I'm exhausted,” he admits quieter, and you see the tiredness etched into the corners of his eyes, even in the muted glow of your hallway lamp. He moves in and kisses you, but it’s a gentle, chaste brush over your lips that makes your insides melt just a fraction.

“So, not a booty call? This is a use-my-bed-to-crash-in call?” you tease gently with a twisted pout, holding his hands and walking backwards towards your bedroom.

“If you don't mind, yeah, I just need sleep,” he says sotto voce, stifling a yawn and trailing you.

The fact that he has sought you out to sleep next to you, not sleep with you, seems like a rather profound step forward in your dynamic. But then, many things can seem consequential in the early hours, so you decide not to dwell on it.

“No suitcase?” you remark as you move into the darkness of the bedroom.

“Had my driver take my luggage home,” he explains, shucking his jacket and hanging it on the little chair you use as a clothes horse more than anything. The fact that he knows it causes a tiny flutter of something in your stomach.

“Want some help?” you offer modestly, gesturing to his hand now on his fly, testing the waters around if sex might happen despite his tiredness.

He shakes his head but with a look appreciative of the offer. Ok, no sex then.

“Why don't you get into bed? I'll just brush my teeth and join you shortly.”

You settle under the covers as he disappears into your bathroom, trying not to let your mind turn over too much about this different situation. Jetlagged and sleepy Anthony is a very sweet thing, not your usual sexy sparring partner.

After a few moments, there is a dip in the bed as he climbs into the other side behind you. An arm wraps around your waist as he shuffles into you and pulls you back into him in a spooning position. You feel a wave of body heat through the cotton of your nightwear and realise he is only in boxer briefs. His embrace is comforting, and he sighs onto your shoulder, dropping a soothing kiss there before fluffing the pillow and settling around you, his hand warm on your belly, his minty breath dusting the nape of your neck as he seems to bury his face in your hair and inhale deeply.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs, almost into your skull.

“Goodnight,” you whisper back, knowing his warmth and weight will probably lull you back to sleep before you have too many errant thoughts about what is transpiring. When his breathing slows and gets deeper, you feel yourself being tugged under too.

—

Something doesn't feel right. Not in a bad way, not in the slightest. Something feels far too good, and it's distracting your slumber. Or maybe it's just a very vivid dream. Why you would be waking up within a dream seems like a strange point to focus on… Then suddenly, there is a zing of pleasure in your breast that races down your body to your core.

Your world rearranges as you dance the line between sleeping and waking. The sensation becomes sharper as a strong pull on your nipple hurtles you into consciousness with a sharp inhale.

“The lady awakens,” his bemused rumble skitters across your rapidly goose-pebbling skin. You are lying on your back, your top rucked up around your armpits, and there is a head of chestnut hair as you look down.

Anthony Bridgerton. On top of you. His mouth attached to your left breast, something hot and hard branding your thigh through his underwear, where he straddles it.

“Anthony,” your voice is rough-edged from sleep.

His lips pull off your nipple as his head tilts up—his brown eyes shining in the pastel morning light bleeding through the curtains.

“I thought waking you up this way might not be entirely unpleasant for you,” the smirk on his handsome face far too appealing. “An apology for the early hours wake-up call.”

“You are always welcome here, open invitation,” you answer truthfully, “but especially if this is your idea of an alarm clock. Please continue,” you quip, whipping off the top rucked up around your armpits and raising an expectant eyebrow.

He huffs a laugh and kisses your sternum before transferring to your right breast, climbing between your legs and settling over you in a wave of natural body scent that makes your mouth water.

He lathes his tongue wide over your nipple, lapping gently, then biting down with an edge of teeth until it is a stiff peak that he closes his luscious lips around and sucks hard. You can’t hold back the little staccato noises as your hands run over his muscular shoulders and into his luscious hair.

“Sadly,” his speech ghosts over your saliva-damp flesh, “I need to take a shower before this goes any further. I should have taken one last night, but I was too exhausted. Need to wash the journey off me,” he attests as he goes back to lightly kissing your breast.

You doubt that phrase carries as much significance for someone travelling first class as it does back in economy, where you’re usually crammed in, but you can understand the sentiment.

“I think you smell pretty good right now,” you voice without thought.

“I feel like I haven’t showered in 24 hours which, with the time difference, I probably haven’t,” he deadpans as he surges up and pecks your cheek, his chest hair tickling the stiff damp peaks of your nipples. “Care to join me?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye as he kisses over to your ear.

“Is this your way of telling me I smell bad?” You joke, but there’s a flit of concern on your face.

“Y/n,” his resonant voice uttering your name so close to your ear makes your pussy clench as he traces the shell with his nose, “of course you don’t; you always smell wonderful,” the casual compliment just slipping out. “Will you please just say yes to this obvious invitation to shower sex?”

Oh.

“Well, in that case….” you reply, running your hands into his luscious hair, “yes, Lord Bridgerton, I will shower with you.”

“Thank you. Was that so difficult?” he teases with a playful pout, pulling back the covers and hauling you out of bed topless.

His boxer briefs are tented in a delicious way, and part of you wants to just sink to your knees and take him in your mouth regardless of how much he wants to shower. In fact, something about him being a little less than fresh is a peculiar turn-on—just so very potently him.

“Why are you looking at me like you’ve never seen my erection before?” His bemused expression tracking your eye line and not missing your subtle lip bite as he moves towards the bathroom, still holding your hands.

“What? It’s an impressive one. You’ve been away for a week, and maybe I just need to remind myself,” you posit as he pulls you into an embrace.

“Oh, is that so?” His tone is light and taunting, arms encircling your ribcage. He stills in the doorway and surges his hip towards you, so you feel his rigid cock pressed into your belly. “Memory coming back yet?” Dropping his voice into a range that is sinful.

“Maybe…” you demure into his shoulder, then pull away, moving to brush your teeth before you act on the urge to kiss him senseless.

He crowds into your back as you reach for toothbrushes. There is something so casually intimate about the stolen glances in the mirror as you both brush, his chest hair tickling your shoulder blades as he spiders his fingers under the curve of your breast with a small foamy smile. As you rinse, his fingers untie the drawstring on your pyjama bottoms, and his reflection smoulders as he pushes them over the swell of your hips, falling to the floor. He presses the length of his body into your back, and you emit a faint moan as his heated flesh drags over yours; something rigid and hot nestles the upper curve of your bottom.

“Better get naked if you plan to shower,” you smirk at him in the mirror and feel a swell of triumph as he reaches down and pushes off his underwear. His cock bobbing up insistently. You whip around to face him, fisting him and squeezing reflexively.

“Fuckkk,” he stutters, and a hand rounds behind your head, grabbing with an intensity that surprises and arouses, fingers curling into the cords of your neck. “I’d almost forgotten how good it feels to have your hand on me rather than my own.”

The admission sounds like he’s not been intimate with anyone else since you last saw him. You’ve not discussed exclusivity yet, but he is a rich man travelling the world on business, and you have no delusions about the lifestyle that might entail if he so chooses. As you pump him gently in your hand, your breath catches at the mental image of him with his hand wrapped around his cock in some fancy five-star hotel room, sprawled in the middle of a plush king-sized bed.

“You should have called me; I could have talked you through my technique,” you jest, deciding to meet his statement with light humour, your hands moving to cup his balls as he hums contentedly, the hand on your neck squeezing.

“Noted for next time,” is the amused reply, and then he walks you back into the shower enclosure, flicking on the dial.

The warm spray hits your shoulder blades, and you sigh, pulling his arms to join you. He hums in satisfaction, his head tilting back as he luxuriates in the stream of water. You turn up the pressure on the showerhead, and his resounding moan of pleasure echoes up the shower walls; the deep, rich tone causes your nipples to pebble hard—you have to fight your urge to twine around him. Instead, you reach for your shower gel and loofah and scrub his skin lightly, starting at his neck.

“Mmmmm, please, can I have you in my shower every time?” his voice wistful, eyes still closed, almost swaying.

You gently and methodically bathe the skin of his arms and upper torso, enjoying swirling patterns into his chest hair as you buff him clean. As you move lower over his abs, you can't help but grab his cock with a soapy hand and squeeze lightly, cleansing it thoroughly as you tease with delicate motions. He moans and slowly opens his eyes, meeting your gaze with hooded desire.

“I'm just making sure you are thoroughly clean,” you tease, the hand still rubbing his cock long after it is sufficiently cleansed.

He grabs your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss that is all tongues and teeth, biting in intensity. Your tongues roll over each other in tandem with the movement of your hand. When he finally lets you take a breath, you quietly ask him to turn around. He whines a little as you release his cock, but does as you request. Pausing to admire the sweeping curve of his back and the expanse of muscle tapering down to the trim bum that is so irresistible, you push your body into his back, nipples catching his ribs, and he growls as you teeth the upper notch of his spine.

“Touch yourself,” you whisper into the nape of his neck, and surprisingly he does so without retort. He’s usually the one who takes charge, but his silent obedience makes your breath hitch.

He groans softly, and you can’t resist a peek over his shoulder, his body curled slightly concave, cock fisted in his right hand, moving at a languid pace. Reluctant to look away from the delicious tableau, you run the loofah down his spine and lather his back before your hands land on his pert rounded cheeks. You crouch down to wash his muscular, tanned legs, kissing a cheek and enjoying the way his bum flexes as you do. You straighten back to stand behind him, listening to his huffed little noises, watching his arm speed up a fraction as your soapy fingers slide along the crack of his ass.

“All clean; you can stop now,” you offer into his skin.

There is a blur of movement as suddenly he grabs the auxiliary shower head and flicks the spray to a different setting, spins around and pushes it between your legs, the jet expertly pummeling your clit in hot pulsing waves. You almost squeal at the intensity—the switch of power back to him in a whiplash moment.

“How is that?” His voice is velvety as he bites your earlobe. “I need to hear all your delicious sounds, don’t hold back now.”

You attempt to writhe away from the intense sensation, but a strong arm holds you in place, pushing the shower head more insistently up into your flesh. You moan, and he encourages you, a wet slippery hand smearing down your back and spanking your cheek, making you jump and squeak.

“Get inside me.” The plea tumbles from your lips. You want, no, you need, to feel him invading you, his hands rough on your body, him making needy noises, you begging for more.

He drops the shower head, so it is pulsing aimlessly into a far corner, water pattering against the glass, and walks you until your back bumps into the wall. The tiles are cool and glassy upon your heated flesh as he grabs your left leg and loops it over his slippery arm, pulling you open. All with a devastating look on his beautiful face, droplets of water skating down his cheekbones, lips parted and plush; you just can’t take your eyes off him.

Then he nudges your entrance with his tip, requesting access.

“Did you sleep with anyone else when you were away?” your concern slipping out unbidden.

He frowns, and there is a minute shake of his head. “No, why would I?”

“I wanted to know before we do this again, unprotected,” you whisper vulnerably, closing your eyes, embarrassed. Except for that first heated night, you have been using condoms.

“I would never do that,” his sincerity makes your eyes fly open. “We are together; you are the only person I’m having sex with, the only person I've had sex with since that party, and the only one I’ve done it this way with in many years.”

You rest your forehead on his cheek. “Thank you,” you mumble quietly, him answering your lingering questions and erasing doubts in a few sentences.

“Don’t thank me; you should expect that of me. You have no idea what a gift this is, what we have—this connection, this dynamic. It’s very…. precious to me,” he murmurs into your jaw. It’s the rawest and most unguarded he has ever been. Your breath catches as he does so. Something glowing and fluttering under your ribs, like it wants to break free.

“Anthony Bridgerton.” you breathe lightly, your heartbeat soaring in your veins, “are we becoming more than friends?”

“I’m afraid so,” his laugh is a precious feathered thing as he surges into your body and steals all other thoughts from your head.

He stills buried deep inside you, filling you in a way no one else has. Just this has your clit pulsing from the stretch, heat and presence of him. He shoots you an affectionate, heated look before his lips find yours. The hand not around your leg cups your jaw and directs the kiss into something open-mouthed and greedy as he rocks into your body, swallowing your little noises. This languid slow pace feels like the start of something electric, like the patter of rain that arrives before an intense storm you can hear rumbling on the horizon.

Your hands band around his bum as his thrusts grow more intense, and you encourage the movement with a press of your fingers into the muscular round of his bottom. Your teeth skim the meaty muscle where his neck meets his shoulder, and it spurs him to push deeper, piercing your hilt and tugging on that invisible string that seems to run between your hipbones and makes your eyes roll back and your brain turn to static.

“God, Anthony, please, fuck me so hard,” your voice barely recognisable to you, needy and throaty.

The corresponding noise he makes has every cell of your body on fire. This man’s ability to invade your every sense is something that might typically scare you, but with him, it just feels like something primal and earthy—a meeting of bodies just as nature intended.

You gasp as he hooks your other leg over his other arm, pressing the length of your spine hard into the wall. You are entirely at his mercy now, held in his arms, pinned, sliding on the damp, cool tile as the warm swirl of mist from the rain-head shower curls around you.

“I’ve got you,” he assures against your temple.

You nuzzle his face until he pulls back a little, intuiting you need to see his face. There’s a sincerity in his wild gaze that feels so close to authentic that it's a dangerous fire, his eyes blazing burned umber.

You transmit your trust all you can with the sincerity of your expression, and his responding smile is like warm honey settling over your bones as he starts to move again. The solemnity of the moment you just shared rapidly morphs into something hot and desperate again. Him driving up into your body with a snap of his hips that makes him grunt and you keen, wrapping your arms tight around his neck as he fucks you with a blistering pace and depth, your breasts squashed across his pectoral muscles.

Curses and a chorus of yeses fall from your lips between panting breaths as he takes you with such force you slam into the tiles; you know your spine will be sore later, but you don’t care. You want this so much. Blinding pleasure licks at the corners of your conscience as you feel him hot and steely, pounding into you over and over, your walls clinging to him as he stretches you in that delicious way.

He is panting hard from the effort and exertion right in your ear. His occasional moans and words cause a spike of lust in your body, and you whisper encouragements and pleas to not stop, greedy for what you need to push you over the edge.

His arms hitch your legs higher, and he moves down the wall, so your bottom rests on a cool metal grab bar. His hands wrap around it; your legs held up and open even more. The change of angle and leverage for him makes the experience even more intense. He can drive much more vigorously now, and he starts to push up and hit that spot inside that makes you cry out, slamming against your clit as he hits your hilt.

“Fuck Anthony,” you grit out, your teeth clenched, jaw held tight and whole body going taunt as you dangle close to the edge of your orgasm so suddenly.

He slows his pace, and you groan in frustration, taking long, languid motions, using the grab bar to propel himself up and into you.

“I’m so close,” you grit out.

“I know you are,” his voice velvety and proud, “that’s why I slowed down; I want to take you to the edge so many times. I love it when you are mindless and drunk on sex.”

“Anthony, please let me come,” you plead.

“You will,” he vows.

“I want it now,” you pant, almost petulant.

He chuckles richly into your ear “it will be so much better if you let me do this. I’ll only do it one more time, I promise. Then you will come multiple times, and I will fuck you through it.”

So aroused by that little speech, you just nod and move a hand from around his neck to slide between your bodies and pinch your nipple.

“Oh yes, that’s it,” he goads, moving quicker, spiralling you higher again. Your clit and channel burning hot and pulsing. Just as you feel the first ripple of your cunt he stills completely, and you thrash hard in frustration at the denial. You desperately try to move, but he bears you so tight onto the wall that you have no range of motion. You are pinned and impaled onto his cock as he keeps you open to the top of your channel, throbbing and denied. You feel your scalp crawl and every digit on your body flex.

“Anthony,” your voice ragged, “please, please let me come.”

He pulls back, and the mischief and arousal over his face blow you away. He holds your gaze and tilts your heads together as he starts to roll his hips, surging into you almost in a wave-like action.

“Look at me,” he commands when your eyes flutter closed, and so you do, reopening them and meeting his intense stare.

Suddenly he is moving at a blistering pace, and you start to yell with every stroke, but he won’t let you look away. His nose on yours, your mouth panting the same air.

“Touch yourself,” he orders, and your hand slips between your bodies. The moment your fingertips brush your swollen clit, you yell, and you can’t stop the tide from approaching. Your whole body convulses in strong waves as you scream, cry, and writhe on him. Yet his pace doesn’t waver. He just hisses through his teeth as your body clamps around his cock. His lips find yours and slant over each other with bruising intensity.

He was right. Twice denied, you are so overwrought that his pounding action takes you repeatedly until you are floating somewhere far away from your physical self, going limp in his arms, your mind utterly offline. The blissful state is almost ethereal as you feel him grunting and stilling, emptying himself with a guttural moan as deep as he can be inside you, his whole being twitching, his mouth open over yours, gusting hot and cursing loudly. You feel the warmth of his cum running down your walls as he slowly softens and slips out of your body.

“Holy shit,” you whisper; nothing has been as close to that intense before, and your legs feel weak and stiff as a newborn giraffe as he gently lowers you to the floor with a bemused huff.

“I told you,” he preens, reaching to flick off the shower as you just slump against the tile, grasping the railing you were perched on for leverage.

“Anthony, I don’t think my legs work,” you confess, trying to move but unable.

“Good,” he laughs, pulling you into his arms and kissing you gently over and over. “I fucked you so well you can’t walk, just like I promised on text the other day.”

“I thought that was a figure of speech” you shake your head disbelieving.

“Oh no, definitely not,” he counters with a smug but handsome smile. “I guess you’ll just have to lay with me in bed all day to recover,” he says playfully kissing your nose, “what a horrible shame.”

——

Later, entangled in bed together after a delicious brunch (where you had your usual sparring contest that somehow ended up making out roughly against the fridge), he pulls you under him and stares into your eyes.

“There is something I would like to give you,” he expresses, almost reserved.

He leans away and snags something from his trouser pocket on the floor beside the bed.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs.

“This better not be something where you put a spider on me,” you wisecrack as he unfurls your hand on the pillow next to your head.

“I promise it's not that,” he chuckles as he places something sharp and cold into your palm. “Open,” he orders softly, and you see a slim metal key in your hand.

You look up at him with a knitted brow.

“That is a key to my place,” he explains. “I would like you to use it whenever you want. Even if I'm not home, you are always welcome.”

You can’t stifle the gasp that escapes your lips at the significance of the gesture, and you push up and plant a kiss on his lips.

His voice turns even more delicate, as if talking too loud would break the moment. “I couldn't bear the thought of returning to an empty apartment after a week away alone,” he admits quietly. “That's why I came here instead. I know it's only been a few weeks, but I have known you most of my life, and I just… I like being around you.” As he finishes the sentence, his exhale has a slight tremulant quality. “There’s no one I would rather spar with on a lazy Saturday,” he adds with a winning smile that makes you huff a misty-eyed laugh.

“Anthony, I… I… I don't even have a spare key to give you,” you blurt out, a fretting look clouding your expression.

His hearty laugh at your response fills the room.

“I know a locksmith,” he shrugs with a modest smile. “But….” he elongates the last letter of the word as his hands slide down your sides and his lips find that sensitive spot below your ear. “I think that can wait until later. Don't you?” His tone turns silky and decadent as he rolls his whole body into yours, his hard cock brushing your clit.

Yes, it can definitely wait.

Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld

#anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton

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osmanthus-wine-addiction · 3 months

Text

By the Hour (Host Zhongli x fem!Reader Part 2/4)

◈ Pairing: Zhongli x fem!Reader ◈ Summary: Zhongli is a host at a host club and you're his favorite client. ◈ Contains: NSFW, Phone Sex, Modern AU, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Pseudo-Romance, Fake/Pretend Relationships, Long-Distance Relationships

"Should we change to a video call?" You asked. The desire to feast your eyes on the man on the other end of the line had been kindled as soon as Zhongli confirmed he had nothing on but a towel. You were starving for the visual stimulation.

Zhongli fell silent on the other end. You could hear him draw in a breath, no doubt because of your suggestion.

"Well, the transition would certainly make for a more visceral experience, but it will also limit the imagination. I'll leave it up to you, my dear. Whatever you're comfortable with, we can go about it that way."

You gave his reasoning some thought before replying. "I kind of like it with just your voice. It's more engaging."

He chuckled softly. "I think so as well."

You refilled your glass, taking a sip to moisten your throat.

"Get yourself something to drink too, Zhongli. Do you have wine?" You asked.

Your dear host would be doing a lot of talking tonight. Even though his deep voice tinged with bit of raspiness would do a sure number on you, you'd rather his throat be well-moistened so that he could make those sounds you remembered so clearly.

"I do, a fine aged Baijiu." He went to fetch himself the bottle of white wine before returning to his bedroom. "I take it that you're also enjoying some wine yourself as we speak?"

"Of course. I love my wine."

"You really ought to drink water alongside it. I would hate for you to suffer a headache tomorrow morning." He couldn't help but reprimand you, knowing how neglectful you were of your own health. Wine dehydrates more than it quenches, so he would always request a glass of water for you whenever you drank in his presence.

"If I already have my glass, what does that make me?" You asked in a deliberate whisper. The suggestiveness of your question was not lost on Zhongli's ear as he immediately cleared his throat.

"It makes you wise." He knew what you wanted to hear, but it was difficult to say aloud.

"Call me a good girl, Zhongli." You giggled, unable to contain your urge to torture the man a bit. "How are you going to get through tonight if you can't even handle that?"

He drew in a breath and repeated the words you just demanded. "Good girl."

You swallowed, not expecting two simple words to affect you so much. Something about his velvety voice and the way he delivered the praise caused goosebumps to rise on your arms.

"Have you done this before for any of your other clients?" You asked.

"I haven't." Zhongli admitted as he settled back against his pillows, wine glass in hand. "My other patrons have no need for this. You are the only one with a demand for this sort of... specialized service."

"You're the one who wanted to keep in touch, Zhongli." You reminded him. "But I do want to do more than talking."

"I'm afraid there is not much we can do outside of talking." Zhongli laughed softly, his voice lowering a bit at your words. "What is it that you want to do, my dear?" He teased you, letting his mind wander with the possibilities.

"Well, you did say you'd do whatever it takes to satisfy me. I'd like to see how you manage to do that."

Zhongli chuckled at your boldness, a bit surprised but pleased with your response. "I see, my dear. You want to see how I will pleasure you with just my voice, without laying a single finger on your body."

"You're the professional. I trust you'll deliver."

#zhongli x reader #zhongli #zhongli x you #zhongli smut #zhongli fanfic #genshin zhongli #minors do not interact #18+ mdni #zhongli x y/n #mdni

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guilty-pleasures21 · 5 months

Text

So, I was researching Queen Victoria (for the upcoming Bridgerton-themed fic - I FINALLY managed to fix that plot hole that was bothering me!) and this idea had me kicking my legs and giggling when I was supposed to be sleeping so I could get up for work the next day (spoiler alert: I overslept 🥲). Well, I hope it was worth it. It's only 3 parts now, but let me know if you guys are interested in a full-scale story!

The Queen and the Duke

Part 1 - the ball

Part 2 - the alliance

Part 3 - the wedding

Warnings: None.

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

“So, what do you like to do in your free time, Your Highness?” She’d only just been crowned Queen and yet, every man in her cabinet seemed to already have their own opinion on whom she should marry, fighting over who would best strengthen her position as monarch. So, in an attempt to assuage their concerns, she’d thrown a ball inviting every eligible suitor on the continent to get a chance to prove themselves to her. Of course, she had no intention of marrying anytime soon, but it wouldn’t hurt for her to get to know her eventual prospects.

“Oh, well, of course, I enjoy a good hunting trip every so often, Your Majesty,” the man dancing with her replied. She’d made all of them wear masks so that she wouldn’t be partial to any one of them in particular. But they had all been instructed to dance with her in a specific order; the same order in which they’d be announced to her tomorrow, revealing their true identities. The man’s eyes lit up now through his mask as he remembered a story he seemed especially fond of. “Oh! There was this one trip on which I chanced upon the most beautiful fox …”

X did her best to listen, not wanting to appear rude or hostile towards her guest, but then he started going into gory detail about his hunts and she found her heart squeezing with sympathy for all the poor animals he’d slaughtered.

“Perhaps …” X interrupted him swiftly, “we should move on to something else, Your Highness? Unfortunately, my ... delicate womanly sensibilities are being rather affected by such a gory tale.”

She peeked up at him, hoping he would fall for the feeble excuse, and breathed a sigh of relief when he did.

“Oh! Yes, of course, Your Majesty,” the man replied, seeming a little embarrassed that he had not previously considered her 'delicate sensitivityx. “My apologies. It was not my intention to offend you in any way.”

X cheered up a little at his understanding.

“It is no problem, I assure you,” she replied quickly. “Do you have any other interests? For example, reading?”

“No, I'm afraid I've never been one for the written word, Your Highness,” the man replied, disappointing her. But she’d known it would have been too much to hope for a man who would have been as interested in classic literature and ancient history and romantic poetry as she. Nevertheless, she pressed on, undeterred.

“What of the spoken word? Do you enjoy watching plays? Or perhaps the opera?” she suggested, hoping to find some common ground between them. But the rest of her night followed in a similar fashion: agonisingly slow and painfully boring.

X sank into the seat beside Lady Jane, her close friend and lady-in-waiting.

“A pleasant evening, my Queen?” the Lady teased her, sensing her frustration immediately. X winced at the joke and turned to face Lady Jane, her features scrunched up in irritation.

“Honestly, Lady Jane, it is like they mass produce all of these ‘eligible suitors’!” she moaned. “Either that or they simply all receive the exact same handbook on how to present yourself as the perfect example of a man at the peak of society.”

She groaned and covered her face with her hands. “Perhaps Lord Alfred was right and this was a stupid idea after all. What does it matter whom I choose to marry if they're all just the same?”

Lady Jane snickered at the young Queen’s rant, but a tinge of pity coloured the edges of her smile.

“Well, perhaps if you look past their interests, you might find subtle differences in their personalities that would help you make a decision?” she suggested hopefully. “Whose voice was the most gentle? Who held you most tenderly?”

X took a moment to think about it, sifting through her numerous interactions that evening. But she was quickly interrupted by the smooth and unfamiliar voice of a suitor she had yet to encounter that evening.

“Your Majesty,” the man greeted her, bowing low before straightening to hold a hand out to her. “I hope I am not too late to request a dance with you.”

X glanced up, startled by the sudden interruption to her thoughts. He was tall, the stranger; large and imposing in his red tailcoat and silver mask and she questioned how she could have possibly missed him in the room that night.

“Oh!” she exclaimed suddenly, realising that he was still waiting for her response. She placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her to her feet. “Of course, Your Highness!”

Wow! Even standing, she barely grazed his shoulder! She gazed up at the man as he led her to the dance floor, puzzling over his possible identity. She turned to face him and reached a hand up to clasp his shoulder as they assumed the appropriate positions. Her stomach fluttered at the feeling of his broad muscles beneath her fingers and she turned her gaze away, shy at the realisation that he was the first man of the night to make her stomach flip with excitement.

He felt a warm feeling flood his chest at the way she turned her head away from him shyly. He’d known she’d be cute, given her young age - a mere eighteen to his twenty-two - but he hadn’t expected her to be so … breathtaking.

“Do let me know if you are tired, Your Majesty,” he entreated her. “I understand you have had a long night tonight and I do not wish to keep you on your feet for any longer than necessary.”

Her lips formed a perfect little ‘o’, taken aback by his unexpected thoughtfulness. “Oh! Thank you, Your Highness.”

His lips curled at the sight of that sweet little smile returning to her features, and they began their dance.

“But it is not your fault that you have not had the chance to speak with me until now,” X continued, taking note of his foreign accent. “It would be unfair of me to dismiss you as such.”

“On the contrary,” the man replied immediately, “it is absolutely my fault that we have not had the chance to speak until now. I wanted to be your last dance partner of the night.”

Her lips twitched at the ends, amused by the conviction in his voice. “Whatever for?”

“Well, your last thought of the night would be of your last partner of the ball: me. And your first thought the next morning would be of your last thought the night before: me.” He flashed her a knowing look and she couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. His lips stretched wide at the sound and his heart fluttered in his chest at the sight of her delighted smile.

“What a strategic mind you have, Your Highness,” she praised him. “A fine quality to possess in a man who is to be wed to a queen.”

“Is that your proposal then, Your Majesty?” he retorted quickly. X gave another little giggle, her body heating up at his easy flirtation.

“It was but a mere observation, Your Highness,” she dismissed him playfully. Dios, she was adorable. And intelligent too, so easily responding to his mischievous banter without any of the awkward self-consciousness ingrained into so many of the sheltered young women of the nobility.

“Hmm, we shall see about that,” she decided. “So, tell me, Your Highness, what do you like to do when you're not planning alliances with foreign monarchs?” The man spun her around, then tugged her back into his arms before replying.

“That's all right,” he reassured her. “I've still got plenty of time to sway your mind. Or, hopefully, your heart?”

She pressed her lips together, trying to maintain a thoughtful expression so she wouldn’t give too much of her emotions away.

“That depends. Would you rather hear about my hunting trips or all my lessons in political negotiation?”

Her smile twisted into a grimace as her stomach dropped at the prospect of another meaningless conversation. “Whichever pleases you, Your Highness. Although I must admit that I am partial to conversations that do not involve gore or cruelty.”

¡Santo cielo, she was so sweet! Even despite having partaken in the exact same conversation for what must have been almost twenty times that night, she was still willing to entertain him and give him his chance to speak. “You would listen to me drone on about the same stories you must have heard repeated a hundred times throughout the night?”

The smile she’d forced onto her features faltered at his teasing words.

“W-Well, as I mentioned before, it is not your fault that you were preceded by so many men in much similar positions to yours,” she pointed out. “It would be unfair of me not to grant you the exact same opportunity as the first person I danced with tonight.”

Ay, Dios, she was going to make such a wonderful ruler: sweet and kind and intelligent and thoughtful. He only wished that she would give him the chance to support her through it all.

“How thoughtful of you, Your Majesty.” And he'd have to make sure to preserve her sweetness and morals in the face of all those who would dare challenge her. Yes, he would stay on the sidelines, stoic and resolute, her anchor in a stormy sea. “But I was only joking, my Queen. Why don't you tell me what it is you enjoy doing in your spare time?”

She grinned at the question, delighted to finally have someone inquire after her interests instead. And he seemed to genuinely want to hear her responses as well! “Well, I enjoy literature. And philosophy! It is important to know what is in the minds of your people in order to do right by them.”

He smiled at the way she lit up as she spoke about the things she loved. He asked her a few more questions, letting her carry on about her favourite books and schools of thought, and the two of them continued to dance the night away.

“You study the sciences?!” X asked, intrigued. “Like … a doctor? Are you a practitioner of medicine, Your Highness?”

He smiled at the way she bounced in her seat in excitement - they'd retired to some of the chairs placed on the edges of the dance floor a while ago, but so captivated had they been by one another that their conversation had continued without pause. “Not exactly, Your Majesty. I am simply a scholar, that is all. It would be extremely unwise for you to put the life of another in these hands.”

He rested his hands on his knees, his palms turned up towards her, and she bit her lip, hesitating for a moment. She reached out and brushed her fingers carefully across his palm, then glanced up at him and grinned before pulling away again.

His palm turned cold as she pulled her slender fingers away and a spurt of disappointment rushed through him at the absence of her hand in his. But then she treated him to that adorable little smile again and his stomach fizzed at the sight.

“Your Majesty,” Lady Jane began, leaning over her shoulder to catch her queen’s attention, “it is getting rather late. Perhaps you should retire to your chambers now?”

“Oh.” Her stomach sank at the thought of having to be parted from him already. She turned back to the thoughtful young man, trying not to let her disappointment show too badly. “Your Highness … would you … would you tell me your name?”

He gave her a soft smile, the edges tinged with disappointment. “I thought that wasn’t allowed, Your Majesty?”

“W-Well …” X clenched her fists to stop herself from grabbing onto his forearm. How desperate would such an act make her appear?! “I am the Queen. And I make the rules. And I say you can tell me your true identity.”

She looked up at him, her features hard so she wouldn’t look like the teenager she really was. He chuckled anyway at how blatant her feelings for him were, but in truth, he found himself relieved by the prospect.

X sighed, disappointed. But then a resolute expression overtook her features. “Tomorrow, Your Highness.”

“Tomorrow, Your Majesty,” he reassured her calmly. “We will meet again tomorrow. I promise.”

He held his hand out to her and she placed hers in his, letting him bring her fingers to his mouth and brush his lips against her knuckles. He stood up then, still holding onto her hand, and gently tugged her to her feet before releasing her to give a low bow. He took a step back, putting some distance between them, then waited for her to take her leave.

She turned to leave and he watched her go with a smile. Then, once they were safely away from the vicinity of the ballroom, she turned to her lady’s maid, determined. “Lady Jane, you must find out who that man was! I fear I shall lose sleep tonight puzzling over his identity!”

Jane grinned at the Queen’s dramatics. “Are you sure you would like to know, Your Majesty?”

X paused and turned to Jane with a disbelieving look on her face. “Yes! Of course! He knows absolutely everything about me and I know nothing about him!”

Jane chuckled softly, her heart warming at the thought of her friend finding someone who was able to make her so happy so easily. “I am sure that can’t be true, Ma’am. You did spend more than an hour in conversation with him tonight.”

She gave her queen a pointed look and X burst into delighted laughter.

“I suppose I did, didn’t I?” She continued down the hall, her mind consumed with thoughts of the young man she’d spent so long enjoying the company of that night. “Though it wasn’t nearly long enough.”

She gripped the armrests of her throne, trying to stop herself from tapping her fingers impatiently as the next suitor on the list was formally introduced to her.

“Prince Christian Frederik Georg Michael, second son of King Frederik of Denmark.” The young man strode into the room, his blonde hair neatly swept back from his cherubic features. He bowed before her when he reached her throne and X flashed him a kind smile when he straightened. But he wasn't the one she was looking for. She kept her thin smile fixed on her face until the prince left the room, then she exhaled and slumped over in disappointment.

“Just one more, Your Majesty,” Lord Alfred assured her from his position beside her. She straightened again at the revelation, her heart thudding in her chest at the thought of finally seeing him again. The steward cleared his throat and X rearranged her features into an expression of disinterest, not wanting to give her emotions away so quickly.

“Infante Miguel Francisco Álvarez de Borbón y Fernández - Duke of Seville and first nephew of the King of Spain.” But he was so handsome, with his thick brows and his chiselled features and his tanned skin, and she felt her heart give another little flutter at the sight of him.

He strode into the throne room, his eyes fixed straight ahead, his features set into his usual stoic expression. “Your Majesty.”

But then their gazes met and her lips curled into that adorable little smile that had his own lips turning up at the ends. They gazed at one another for a moment longer, taking the other in completely, then she cleared her throat and straightened her expression, suddenly remembering the other people in the room with them.

“Thank you for coming all this way, Your Grace.” She nodded at the Duke before turning to address her prime minister. “Lord Alfred, if you would be so kind as to dismiss the rest of the party for the remainder of this afternoon. I shall see them again at dinner tonight.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Lord Alfred gave his queen a low bow, using the opportunity to discreetly size up the young man who had so clearly captured her heart. Then he left the room to go dismiss the failed suitors. X stood up and made her way over to the Duke, her steps measured and precise so she wouldn't come across as too eager.

“Your Grace, I have arranged for a walk around the gardens this afternoon. Would you care to join me?” She held her breath as she waited for his response, hoping that she hadn't just dreamed everything up last night. But the Duke took a step closer to her, his expression soft as he gazed down upon her.

“I would like that very much, Your Majesty.” He held his elbow out to her and she accepted it keenly, the same adoring expression on his face reflected on hers.

“The Duke of Seville?!” Lady Anabelle hissed to her two friends. “Isn’t he the one who dismissed his cousin for being an ‘insolent fool unworthy of his time’?!”

“And in front of his entire court, too!” Lady Delia added, keeping her voice low so the Queen and the Duke wouldn't overhear their conversation. Lady Jane frowned, her stomach starting to tighten with concern over how the Duke might end up treating the Queen once they were married.

“But … should we warn Her Majesty?” she suggested, allowing her friends to pull her along with them down the path. Anabelle waved away her worries nonchalantly.

“I daresay they look rather … taken by one another,” Delia commented. Then she turned back to Annabelle and nudged her playfully. “But I have heard that the Duke is a rather difficult man to impress.”

“Oh, I doubt our Queen would ever let anyone treat her in such a manner.” She glanced over at the Duke and gave a longing sigh at his broad and towering form. “No matter how handsome he might be.”

The three women turned their attention to the couple in front of them, their heads bowed towards one another as they murmured to each other, their lips stretched into equally dazzled smiles.

Jane sniffed, offended by the remark. “Well, it is not as if our Queen is lacking in any way.”

Delia's lips parted with a horrified gasp. “Oh, of course not! If ever there was anyone who could possibly melt the heart of that frigid duke, there is no doubt in my mind that it would be our endearing little Queen.”

She gave Jane a warm smile and a reassuring pat on the arm and she relaxed. They heard the Queen let out a pleased giggle and looked up to find her turn her head shyly away from the Duke's. But his gaze remained fixed on her, his expression soft and admiring as he looked down upon her, and Jane felt the rest of the tension leave her body.

She looked up at the Duke, a tinge of fear clouding her expression as she clung onto his arm.

“And you will return in a month’s time?” She didn’t mean to sound so desperate, having only really known him for two full days, but the thought of not seeing him again made her stomach curl. The Duke gave her a reassuring smile and a pat on her hand.

“Yes, my Queen. And we shall correspond as often as possible during that time.” She grinned at his reciprocation of her feelings and his smile widened at the delighted look on her face. She really was cute. And so clever too. Such an accomplished and capable young woman and she would choose him? When she could have the hand of any man she desired? He took hold of her hand to remove it from his arm so he could press a kiss to her knuckles in farewell. “Until we meet again, my Queen.”

She deflated, disappointed by his necessary departure. He was just so clever and so interesting, so well-read and so kind. She just knew she'd be counting down the days until she could see him again. The Duke got up on his horse and gave her a final wave before speeding back off to his faraway homeland.

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