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thefanficmonster · 4 months

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Beautiful Things

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader (Female)

Warnings: SPOILERS for Bridgerton S3 part 1, Minor Period-typical sexism

Genre: Romance, Rivals to Lovers, Fluff

Summary: They're both brilliant, and brilliantly stubborn. What a pair they'd make.

Benedict tends to thread through life without as much as a worried crease on his features. There are very few matters he doesn't take to lightheartedly. That being said, it came as quite the surprise the sharp current of uncertainty that ran down his spine when he found himself standing in front of the monstrosity of a building that is the Royal Academy of Arts on his first day in attendance.

It took him and his charm less than a week to woo and work his way through the crowd of ambitious up-and-coming artists. He's always been an easy person to converse and unwind with. That aura around him naturally draws people to him like a magnet. It is a miracle the man hasn't been hunted down by a debutant already.

Not for a lack of trying, of course. The young ladies of the ton, especially the ones who have been freshy introduced into society have had their sights set on him since he himself made his way into the rhythm of the ton.

Nothing's ever fulfilled him, though.

Being the child of a marriage filled with love that has extended long past the death of his late father, he holds love to a high standard. A standard no one has even come close to reaching.

Watching his siblings find that very sort of love his parents had is a bittersweet sight to observe. It leaves him filled with joy on the behalf of his beloved siblings and it gives him a sense of hope that eventually he too might find what they managed to obtain - not without obstacles, though.

On the other edge of the sword, however, is the never ceasing worry that the problem might be his. That his lack of seriousness bordering into blatant avoidance of the ladies of the ton is to blame for his unmarried status. Perhaps it may be his overly romanticized view of love which he'd like to believe isn't the case. He's seen love of that caliber blossom time and time again in his own home. There's no reason to believe that his turn won't eventually come.

That his standard won't eventually be reached.

Speaking of standards on a lighter note, this painting he's currently standing in front of is disappointing even his lowest requirements for a decent painting.

It is absolutely atrocious, he voices his distaste only briefly and only mentally, never one to voice such critique unless it is cushioned by a smile and a quick-to-follow lighthearted remark.

"It is absolutely atrocious." There is a sharp edge to the voice that does opt to voice the very same thought out loud with far less regard for the negative attention it might garner.

Turning his head to the side, Benedict can't help the smile that immediately tugs at the corners of his mouth.

There, a mere meter from him, stands the ever so cutthroat, no-nonsense, ambitious beast of a woman that is Miss Y/N L/N. A smile rarely grazes her features, her eyes are always icy with an emotion bordering into boredom and a stature that screams authority.

And bloody hell does Benedict enjoy himself in her company.

She is the only student in The Academy he hasn't yet swayed, nor does he believe that he ever will. There are too many walls around her for him to even attempt to start breaking them down. He believes he'll sooner die of old age than succeed in reaching whatever human emotions she might exhibit around people she doesn't dislike.

When it comes to expressing distaste, however, she's not at all hesitant to share it.

"Oh, show the piece some mercy, Miss L/N. It deserves the grace of at least a spec of your kindness." Apart from perfecting his art, one of Benedict's favorite hobbies these past seven months would most certainly be pulling on Y/N's strings. Although it hasn't helped him form anything close to a friendship with her, it has aided him on the mission to get to know her better despite her being a sealed envelope of a person.

"I unfortunately do not possess plenty of it, therefore I can not be generous with it." She barely spares him a look as she speaks. That has been the case for half a year with no progress.

Still, he's willing to weld at the wax until he can pluck and read the letter inside. It is, after all, the bare minimum. He'd at the very least like to make her time at The Academy slightly more enjoyable. Being the only woman in the arts department, she's been rather ostracized which is typically the best case scenario. On the far worse end of the spectrum are the manner-less and, quite frankly, brainless 'gentlemen' who vary from not being able to keep it in their trousers to putting down her and her art which far surpasses their own.

If only they had that aforementioned missing brain intact, they'd see they're not even a quarter of the artist Y/N is.

That is one of the few things Benedict does not shy away from proclaiming with his whole chest. Although well aware that Miss L/N can handle herself gracefully and sharply as always, he never misses an opportunity to put the filthy men in The Academy in their place.

"I believe you possess far more kindness than you let on. Though, I understand completely why you'd rather not show it. None of these lovely gentlemen are deserving of it." The inflection of his tone on those two specific words wins him a scoff from her tightly pressed together lips.

A small win. Baby steps.

"I hope you are factoring yourself in when you use general terms of such sort. I have no evidence you are any better than them." She says, subtly motioning to the crowd of self-titled art experts around the venue where their final works have been displayed for renowned artists to come and rate in precisely half an hour.

Benedict had recognized her painting the second he stepped foot in the ballroom like gallery of The Academy. Needless to say, it put the rest to shame. Even his own, he has no problem admitting that. The emotions relayed in the painting, each brushstroke, every color, every line - they pulled him in the second he laid eyes on it.

And no, he most certainly is not biased. He's a very objective man when it comes to art. It might be considered a conflict of interest, though, because to him she is art.

"Believe me, my lady, I would hate nothing more than to boast myself but I still do believe I stand out from this pleasant crowd. For, as I was told, mine was the only painting you gave a stellar review for."

Professor Hedingale, although a man in his late fifties with a rather intimidating exterior and a permanent frown etched into his forehead, is a major gossip. He has taken a great favor to Benedict for his warm nature and shared love of observing drama as it unfolds. That being said, it took him a total of three seconds before he informed his student of Miss L/N's surprising review. She had not given the other paintings as much as a second glance, opting to say nothing rather than tarnish them the way they honestly deserved.

Had he not been paying such close attention to each line of her face, he could've missed it. Luckily for him, he did not. That brief fleeting moment of surprise widening Y/N's did not manage to go by unnoticed.

"I have a very high standard for beauty and would never stoop so low as to give a biased and unjust review. If I find something abhorrent, I say so. If I find something beautiful, I'd never not compliment it the way it deserves." Benedict almost flinches when she turns to face him, establishing intense and quite entrancing eye contact. "I am not mean, Bridgerton. I am simply honest."

Words burn dry on his tongue, his breath dissipating in his lungs. Had she still not been facing him, he could have come up with a timely response. But something about her gaze being so focused on him has turned his brain to a pile of pebbles. Not a single thought is passing through his head other than a fact he's long established. In fact, he came to learn it the very first at The Academy. Every day since it has only been confirmed time and time again.

She's absolutely enamoring.

The moment dissolves with the loud bang of the grand doors to the gallery being pulled open, allowing in the crowd of world renowned artists that now hold the students' futures in their gloved hands.

Benedict is not surprised by the fact that all these critical artists are men. He's grateful no artist's name has been listed by the displayed paintings, otherwise Y/N would have no chance at winning their favor. Not objectively anyway. At least one would have undermined her because, although talented artists, that doesn't exclude them from being close-minded fools. And at least one would try to butter her up for a potential courtship.

Yeah, that's not happening

Upon getting a better look, he finds himself pleasantly surprised by a head of long blonde hair, undoubtedly belonging to a woman. A woman whose work he's become very familiar with knowing Y/N is quite an admirer of hers.

"Eleanor Easton." The name comes out almost breathlessly, barely getting past Y/N's lips.

Turning his attention back to her, he's rather shocked to see what the nerves have done to her. She's shaking like a leaf, all the confidence she typically exhibits has drained from her body into a puddle on the tiled floor.

"You should go talk to her, express your admiration for her work." It is more an attempt at vexing her than a suggestion but it's in no way bad advice. Even though Lady Eleanor doesn't look like she'd take kindly to the gesture, it would be a noble attempt.

"Are you mad?!" Y/N whisper-yells, her eyes wide in panic as she spreads open the hand-held fan she's carrying to provide a soft breeze to her extremely heated face. "I could never possibly do such a thing!"

"Why could you not? It w....oh, she's looking right at us....." Benedict has barely finished his sentence before he feels a gust of wind rush past him in a blur of sparkling fabric, lace and silk.

For a solid second or two, he's torn on what to do. Although his initial intention was to vex her, he's now worried she might actually be dissolving in a nervous frenzy and he can't let her tarnish months of work because of some jitters. He too would be a wreck of similar caliber if any of the artists he idolizes were to show up and he too would prefer someone snap him out of it.

So, he follows her out the wooden doors that lead to a maze of intertwined halls, the walls of which are immaculately hand painted. For a moment, he panics, worried he won't be able to find her on time in the chaos of intertwining hallways and painting rooms. But then, he remembers that he indeed knows her better than he thought.

He finds her exactly where he thought he would - standing in front of the wall painting he often finds her looking at in awe. She's never explicitly stated so, but he knows it's her favorite.

To say Y/N is not happy when she spots him would be an understatement, "Oh. for heaven's sake, can I not get a moment without you pestering me?"

He takes her words with an eye roll, "No. I am bringing you back in that gallery. You are going to stand tall and remain collected when they announce your painting to be the equivalent of the Diamond of the season. Do you understand?" He surprises himself with the tone of seriousness his voice has taken on.

See? He can be serious when he wants to be.

She lets out a frustrated sigh, vigorously waving the red fan in her hand in a pointless attempt to collect herself, "Bridgerton..." She closes her eyes for a second as to not spit everything she'd very much like to say. Still, she is a lady, though. "I am asking you to leave my sight in the next five seconds, for you are getting on my nerves."

With two long strides, Benedict minimizes the distance between them, passing the social boundary for respectful space and bordering onto a scandal if someone were to see them. He doesn't care, though. Most romances he's witnessed, if not all, began with a scandal.

Now it's his turn.

"Oh, is that so? Am I getting on your nerves, Y/N?"

"You're getting on my nerves, Benedict-" Her words come to a sharp end when he swipes the fan from her hand, halting the consistent motion. That seems to have been her last straw of composure, seeing as how the hand that formerly held said fan is now clenched in a tight fist and her eyes are squeezing shut. "You pesky, vex...-"

How rude of Benedict to interrupt the lady yet again, is it not? This time he does so by busying her lips with his own. He braced himself for a potential slap on the cheek before even leaning in but the impact never comes.

What he did not prepare himself for was her rather welcoming response, allowing herself to momentarily forget everything else and melt into the rhythm of the kiss. Melt into him. Her arms instinctively wrap around his neck while his hold her waist, fearful of her dissipating like a dream before his eyes.

It pains him that he has to end a moment of such culmination. A moment that the seven months they've known each other inevitably led to. However, they can always pick up this conversation later. For now, Y/N has credits to earn and a painting to be prized.

So, against his instincts, he pulls away.

"This isn't over." He says, his lungs catching up on minutes worth of air they didn't properly receive, "But for now, we have other matters at hand." With a tilt of his head, he motions down the hall - a clear insinuation.

With a similarly disappointed expression and an even more disappointed sigh, Y/N brings herself to nod. She reaches out to retrieve the fan from him which gives him the opportunity to sneak one more quick kiss just as a door opens further down the hall, rudely tearing them apart from one another.

Smacking him lightly with her fan, Miss L/N can't suppress the laugh that Benedict's smug prideful expression provoked from her. She accepts the arm he's offered her and allows him to lead her back the way they came from.

"What you said about beauty and how it should never go uncomplimented..."

"Yes?"

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted to say you're ravishing."

Another laugh breaks the illusion of her icy demeanor, "Why, thank you, Mister Bridgerton. Your painting was quite easy on the eyes as well. Professor Hedingale did not lie. I must say I'm impressed."

"Although I will accept the compliment, I'll have you know there's plenty you are yet to see. This is nothing. Prepare yourself to be truly impressed."

Giving his arm a subtle squeeze, she flashes him one last smile before they enter the gallery once more, "Doubtful."

That's the thing about rivalry, dear reader, it brings out the good, the bad and the beautiful.

The rest is best kept behind a close door, if you know what this author is alluding to.

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict x reader #benedict x you #benedict smut #polin

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adventuringblind · 9 months

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Caught in a Lie

Maxiel x Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: The reader gets caught in Max's shenanigans and decides to take the blame. Daniel isn't happy she lied for Max, third time WDC or not.

Warnings: BDSM, dom/sub, sub reader, switch Max, dom Daniel, spanking, unprotected PinV, Overstimulation, mild denial if you squint, Max being a menace

Notes: I have a website now! It would mean a lot if Y'all checked it out. I'm still working on it but it's a fun creative project. It's still in the works, so if you have suggestions, I will gladly take them.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It really wasn't her fault. Max had been the conspirator. She was just the bait. Unknowingly, mind you. The bastard had done this on purpose!

Winning a third title had inflated his ego far too much. They couldn't celebrate properly in Qatar. Alcohol sure, sex had to wait. Not because any of them wanted to, Daniel had made it a point that sex, especially the kind they do, needs to come after races. Thursdays and Fridays can be soft things. Saturdays are an absolute no. Then Sunday comes around, and they are trying to get back to wherever they are staying as fast as possible.

Now, back at home in Monaco, nothing to disturb their peace. They decide to ruin it all by going out. It's one of her least favorite activities. Being in bed with the cat has her name on it. But Max wants to celebrate, and Daniel is social, so she drags herself out of bed.

She should've known something was amiss when Max said he got something for her to wear out. She should've known it was going to end this way when Max whistled at her and laughed, whereas Daniel's eyes had darkened. The familiar look he gets when he wants to absolutely take her apart and build her up piece by euphoric piece.

She'd caught Max's arm on the way out. "What the hell are you playing at?"

"Felt like a show tonight," he shrugs, then winks at her.

The black dress barely covers her ass. It's lacy all over and sheer aside from the important places. She wears stuff like this often since it's something she likes. It doesn't make sense why this would be the thing to drive him insane.

Dancing had been fun. Their other Monaco friends had come out with them to celebrate. Daniel's eyes had burned into her every time she moved. Much to her surprise, he wasn't the only one.

Carlos Sainz is staring at her from the corner. He looks like he's trying desperately not to but failing miserably. He turns away every time she catches him, still exuding confidence.

It's not well known that she's dating Max and Daniel. They've been friends for a long time. Friendship turned into a situationship, which then made them confess. They look like they always do to the outside world. To touchy to simply be platonic but no real announcement that any of the three are taken.

Carlos was staring, Daniel was glaring, Max was smirking, and she was the center of it all. Embarrassment hit her like a train when she realized she'd been played. Max was watching Carlos stare at her and snickering about it.

Feeling insecure, she went to get some air. The joy of feeling nice in a dress Max had picked out now ruined from knowing why he did it. He was playing a game. He could've at least asked first.

Daniel and Max find her outside slumped against the wall. She can still hear Max laughing about something and it's pissing her off.

"Stop laughing at me!" She throws her arms up in defeat and turns her back to them. "I didn't ask to be ogled at by Carlos, Max."

"Then why did you pick that specific dress?" Daniel spins her around and pins her to the wall. A shiver runs up her spine as his breath sticks to her ear. "The exact one Carlos had mentioned wanting to see on a pretty thing like you."

She doesn't know whether to blush or cower. She ends up settling for both at the same time. She debates her options. Either she tells the truth and saves herself, or she takes whatever punishment is coming her way.

Once. She will do this one time for Max since he just won his title.

"I picked it out because I thought it looked nice and you would like it. I swear I didn't know Carlos liked this dress and was going to be here tonight." She's pleading desperately with her voice. Maybe she'll get lucky.

Max has gone oddly silent. She tries not to even look at him, let Daniel figure out she's taking the blame for the Dutch.

Daniel is still staring her down. The silence hanging thick between them until he decides to break it. "Anything to add, Maxy?"

Noticing Daniel's mood, he doesn't answer. A smart move by him. Daniel just hums and grabs her wrist to lead the charge to the car.

None of them speak during the short ride home. She hates every second of it. Daniel is probably mulling over everything he wants to do to her. She feels like a child waiting for their parent to start a lecture.

Daniel waits for them to get their shoes off before turning to face them in the entryway of the apartment. "Where'd you buy the dress from?"

And he'd seen right through it. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember, or you weren't told?"

She winces when his tone goes soft. The one that makes her drop to her knees for him. Well, any tone from Daniel can have that effect on her. This one is just the one that makes her all fuzzy in the head. “I don’t remember,” she whispers.

Daniel sighs heavily. “Alright, if you’re not going to tell me the truth then I guess I’ll have to spank it out of you.” She nearly falls over, but manages to catch herself. “Bedroom, clothes off and on your knees.”

She scrambles to comply. The drop is imminent at this point. She just hopes Max enjoys the show because this will not be happening again. At least, she hopes.

The clothes come off and are folded neatly in a pile. She feels cold, exposed, and bit insecure, and then yet the floaty feeling is threatening to spill over. Her knees digging into the carpet don’t help that.

Max comes into the room silently. Daniel must have said something to him because he kneels next to her. Not a rare occurrence, but is mildly unusual.

“Max.” The stern tone has Max grumbling, but he gets back up off the floor, strips, then kneels again.

Daniel beckons her over to him. Her face is flushed red with embarrassment as she stands between his still covered legs. “You have the choice to tell the truth or not. I’m not mad at you, but I’m sad you felt like you needed to lie about what happened tonight. So, I’m going to keep spanking you until you tell the truth.”

“Yes sir.” It comes out so easily; a second nature now. She lays across his lap, trying to hold back the already threatening tears.

“What are your colors, baby girl?”

“Green is good, yellow is slow down and talk, red is stop.”

“Good, what’s your color?”

“Green.”

She’s probably too far gone already to really say no at this point. She just needs his hands on her in any kind of way.

The first hit shocks her. It’s not the hardest he’s can go by any means, but it still stings. “I’m gonna keep going until I get the truth.” She remains silent and another hit lands to the other side.

The next three have no rhythm and are more towards the tops of her thighs. She whimpers a bit but doesn’t give in. This is for Max. He wanted a show, he won the title, and she’s willing to, unfortunately, provide.

Daniel tugs her hair back and forces her eyes to look at his face. Four more hits and she’s hissing. Each one is harder than the last.

She starts getting hazy around number twenty-five. She's taken more, but the fact that Daniel keeps sweetly telling her she can stop this by telling the truth makes it worse. Like every hit is sending further to the breaking point. Not the good one, mind you, the one where she cries and tells him the whole story.

"Just tell the truth, baby." He lands another five hits in rapid succession. Each one burning more than the last. The tears have started free falling and are making Daniel's leg wet and salty.

"Color baby?"

"Green," She manages to sniffle out. Voice high and cracking. Why is she getting punished again? Oh, right, for Max. It should really be him up here.

The overwhelming urge to do as Daniel says hits somewhere around hit forty. The breaking point has reared its ugly head. She starts bawling her eyes out as the last hit is the hardest she's received thus far. "Yellow!"

Daniel halts any movement. "Did that last one hit too hard?" The softness in his voice only brings more tears.

"I'm sorry!" She drops all her body weight over his legs. "Max got the dress. He said he picked it out for me. I didn't know anything about Carlos. Then, right before he left, I asked him what was going on, and he said he wanted a show. I figured he did just win his title, and I didn't want him to get in trouble, so I lied."

"Oh, baby girl." Daniel helps her up and lays back so she can plaster herself on his chest. "I knew what was going on, but I wanted you to tell the truth. I'm not mad at you, okay?" He runs soothing fingers along her spine. It only makes the tears come harder. "That must've been hard! I'm so proud of you for telling me the truth. I know you wanted to do it for Max, but sometimes Maxy needs to learn his own lesson."

Daniel slides out from underneath her and grabs something from the bedside table. "I'm gonna take care of you now, okay? You did so well. I'm not upset. I just needed to hear the truth." She doesn't hold back the tears as Daniel works on getting her cleaned up. "So good for me," He coos to help her calm down.

She's lost all sense of time. She has no idea of how long she's been over Daniel's or how long he's been cleaning her up for.

She's still splayed out on the bed facing, now facing Max and his solemn expression.

"Here's what we're going to do. Max wanted a show, so that's what he's gonna get since we are celebrating his win." He turns towards Max. The Dutch's knees can't be feeling good at all. Daniel leans down and forces his head upwards. A few seconds at the Australian, then holding on her.

Daniel drags over a chair and rips Max up from the floor. "You are going to sit here and watch. You will not move, you will not touch, you will not make a sounds. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, color?"

Max looks oddly and achingly hard from her position. It makes her wonder if this is actually what he wanted or if he's just slipping further. It takes more to put max down, but Daniel is good at getting him there if the occasion calls for it.

"Green."

Daniel, much to her relief, finally gets his clothes off. He leaves on his boxers for the moment, though the outline of his hard on is obvious. It has been since they got in the car to come home. “Baby girl, do you want my fingers or my tongue tonight?”

“Tongue please.” Pleasurable shivers run down her spine. Sometimes, she’s convinced that Daniel was molded by Greek gods and sent to live among the humans solely because his tongue can work miracles.

Her head hangs off the bed giving her an upside-down view of Max. His skin has flushed even more since the last time she saw him.

She doesn't get much time to think about it. Daniel's tongue presses against her and she loses herself. He knows her body like it's his favorite book to read, movie to watch, and song to hear.

Her fingers slip easily into his black curls. His hands are on her waist, absolutely buried in her. She's going to feel the bruises soon, but it only adds the pleasure of it.

Her free hand flies to cover her mouth out of habit. She makes it half-way before Daniel snatches her wrist and pins it to her side so he can grip both her hip and her hand.

The strings of moans and profanities leaving her are not even close to the way she can hear Max whining behind her. High pitched and desperate.

Daniel is lapping at her like she's producing healing waters and he'll die without it. Nose bumping against her just right. The grip on her body only getting strong as she writhes around in ecstasy.

"Sir please - need to - please-" It comes out strangled in panted breaths and heavy moans.

He doesn't stop. Never does to tell them yes. Daniel taps her hip with his index finger three times. She jumps over the edge without any kind of hesitation. Plunging herself in the familiar feeling of warmth overwhelming amounts of dopamine and serotonin.

Her back arches. Daniel holds her in place as her body contorts in every direction in an attempt to push him away. He is unmoving wall. A force she can't do anything but submit her body to.

Daniel leaves her alone for a mere minute. Only to drag Max over, fingers clutched around the back of his neck. He slams Max onto the bed and manhandles him until he's right where Daniel wants him.

He then moves to flip her. In between them and still sopping. "Think you can keep Max in your mouth?"

Of course she can, she's done it enough times. The consent thing still makes her melt either way. "Yes, sir."

"Good, I think we've tortured Max enough. We are still celebrating his win, after all." There is a hint of mischief behind Daniel's eyes that doesn't go unnoticed.

Daniel, mouth still wet with her, kisses Max in the sloppiest manner she's ever seen.

She stares in awe for all of ten seconds. Her ogling is cut short by Daniel gripping her hair and shoving Max's length down her throat. She gags at the suddenness but recovers quickly and gets to work.

She can't see what Daniel is doing anymore. Their positioning is not the most convenient for watching. She can hear it though, and It's driving her insane. Max's body is quivering and it's an effort to stay where she is and not bite down every time he jerks in a different direction.

It takes less time than normal for him to spill down her throat. Daniel is quick to rip her off and get her over Max. Her ass still stings from earlier, but she could care less as Daniel plays puppet master and guides Max into her.

It's a stretch, Max certainly isn't small, but she's well adjusted.

She loses her head again when Daniel sets her pace. Max is wrecked from the lack of stimulation into a constant stream of it. Daniel rips off his boxers and slams into Max's mouth. "Bet you wish you hadn't done all that snickering, huh?" Max is so far down that his eyes are rolling at Daniels tone. The gentle one that is condescending enough to make anyone whimper.

Daniel keeps talking, she's registering his voice, but has no idea what he's saying anymore. She can't even hear past her own moans. She can't feel anything besides the hands on her body and the overwhelming number of endorphins flooding her mind.

Kissing. Daniel is kissing her through another jump off an even larger cliff.

Flipped over again. This time Daniel is slamming into at an unholy pace. Maybe Daniel is a fallen angel. To good with his body to stay in heaven, so he brought heaven to the humans.

Fingers. Max's fingers are everywhere. He shoves them down her throat and coos as she mans around them. Rough calloused hands made for drowning her in whatever this cacophony of feelings is.

Her favorite song on replay. Over and over and over again. Never getting old.

She comes back to herself at some point. Nobody has clothes on still. Daniel and Max are gently coaxing her muscles to still.

"Hey baby, you passed out on us." Max's voice is still fuzzy. She groans in response. Every inch of her is in some state of pain, pleasure, or both.

"We're gonna try a bath, okay? I want to help the bruises as much as possible." She nods against Daniel's chest, agreeing that would be a brilliant idea.

"Before we do that though, I want so apologize." Max sounds timid and unsure of himself. His hands wring together in anxiety. "I shouldn't have set that up. It made you both uncomfortable and I should've just asked."

Daniel pulls Max back on top of their cuddle pile. "I would've happily made this happen and I will happily do it again."

That same mischievous glint comes back to Daniel despite the exhaustion. They end up laughing deliriously all the through their aftercare routine.

Yeah, she'd happily do this again too.

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dirtydixonsgirl · 1 year

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Tipsy

Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

A/N: hope you guys enjoy this!! it was fun for me to write. reblogs are appreciated<3

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, creampie, p-in-v, spanking, should i say more? 18+!!!

Daryl wasn’t sure how he got here but he knew he wasn’t complaining. His hands ran over his face at the girl below him, begging him to take her. His thoughts were scattered and he was aching as well. He couldn’t help but to think back to the exact thing that brought them alone together in this very room.

Rosita was having a welcoming party for some of the survivors him and Rick had found on the way back from a run, they were very trustworthy people Rick thought, Daryl on other had have some concerns but eventually brushed it off. She was very welcoming to this new found group of people, leaving Daryl to become protective over her anytime she was in a room with them or around them.

But somehow this welcoming party ended up with a few shots of whiskey and other drinks Rosita pulled from her cabinet. Which turned into a very let lose Rosita who sat at the table making sexual jokes towards the girl and Daryl making their cheeks and face turn a blood red color. She wanted her embarrassment to slip away from her so a few more shots should do the trick, but that only turned into more embarrassment when she lost control of herself, clinging to Daryls sides, rubbing his arms and complimenting him every so often.

It was no surprise her and Daryl had something. But it wasn’t really anything to slap a label on, neither of them did that kind of stuff, the rest of the group was aware of the strange friendship they had, sneaking off together to find abandoned cabins so you could spend time together, Daryls light hearted effort at bringing her things back from a run that put himself in danger sometimes just for her, the fact that every time the group was on the run before they found Alexandria they both always seemed to choose each other to snuggle up to in the abandoned places or in the ice chattering winter. It never failed, they always chose each other, but that’s as far as it went, there no kissing, no romance, just small things that made them both very much close.

That was until tonight. Daryl was flustered to say the least, he had no idea how to help her in her state of mind especially when she couldn’t keep her hands to herself, so he snuck away leaving you with Tara and Rosita as he sat in the corner, keeping a close eye on her as she danced and laughed with the other girls, this was the first time Daryl had ever seen her so careless, free, having fun. He loved this look on her.

“Daryl!” She slurred, stumbling over to him.

She met eyes with the man, almsot tripping over her own feet. Her body was warm with alcohol, her head spinning and joy rushing through her veins. She wasn’t sure when she had let lose this much but she was enjoying it. She fell right into his lap, her legs over his while she wrapped her arms around his neck, earning a grunt from him. She looked at his flustered face giggling at his reaction, she was fully aware of the effect she had on him. She placed a small kiss to his cheek.

“Wha was that for?” His cheeks flushed even more.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Thank you for always taking care of me.”

“Who would if I didn’t?” He joked, she laughed along with him.

Daryl was impressed at himself for controlling hisself but it was getting more difficult as the alcohol coursed through both of their bodies and she began squirming and giggling in his lap. She leaned up, grabbing his bottle from the table sat in front of him, he noticed her dress rose up almost flashing him in the progress. She sat back down, adjusting herself and that’s when she felt it. Him.

Daryl wasn’t sure what it was, the alcohol or the girl that he loved dearly sitting on his lap in a very short dress, taunting him enticingly with every move. She smirked, now realizing exactly what she was doing to him.

“You want me or something, big guy?” She giggled drunkenly, her hands on his broad shoulders.

He grunted. “I’m sorry, I-“

“Take me to bed then.” She began to rub his shoulders.

This was killing him. Every moment.

“No, y/n-“

“Pleaseeee.” She pouts.

How could he say no to that?

“You’ve hada nough.” He grumbles, pulling the beer bottle from her hand. “Let’s get you home.”

The disappointment flooded through her along with the slight embarrassment. She couldn’t believe she said that and that a few seconds ago she was sitting on Daryl Dixons lap while he had a boner, all because of her.

She let out a squeal when he lifted her up in his arms, carrying her bridal style out the door. She was far too clumsy to walk and he could definitely handle his liquor. Her face buried itself in his chest, the cool wind blowing against her skin.

“You’re warm.” She mutters, eyes feeling heavy.

“You gonna pass out on me?” He jokes.

“Maybe.”

Once Daryl gets her to her house, he lays her in the soft bed, she grips his collar pulling him to her.

“Please kiss me.” She begs needly.

“Yer drunk, Y/N.” He sighs, his hands planted on both sides of her now.

“So are you, please I want you.”

All of the begging made him slightly uncomfortable in his pants, she connected their lips and Daryl didn’t kiss back at first but when he did another foreign feeling exploded through her, going straight between her legs. She whimpered against his lips, causing his breathing to hitch slightly as she rubbed her legs together to get rid of the friction.

“Daryl, please, I-“

“You want me baby?” His hands playing with the hem of her dress.

“Yes.” She breathes.

She giggles, hooking her hands in the hem of his pants, cupping him in his ever so aching areas, a groan fell from his lip. She rubbed him slowly, seeing the effect it had on him made the wetness in her panties spread. She wanted him so bad for so long she couldn’t believe it was finally here.

“Wanna-wanna feel you around me so bad.” He mutters, his hips bucking into her palm.

She squeals once his hands get under her dress, his hands sliding up her thighs, sending vibrations through her as he presses a finger down to her aching wet core, causing her to whimper. “This for me?”

“All for you.”

“You wear this to tease me tonight? Dancin’ around in this little short dress, touchin’ on me. You knew what you were doing, ya little slut.”

His words were laced with lust. Pressing his thumb down harder to her clit, she moaned her hands shaking has he rubbed slowly, her hands finding her way to his shoulders. Her legs instinctively spread, inviting him in, he thrusts into her every so often, his other hand rubbing circles on her hips. She was falling apart underneath of him and he was enjoying it.

“You want this?” He asks but nothing was heard from her besides whimpers and moans. “You gotta use your words sunshine.”

“Y-yes.” She moans. “I want it, take it from me. I wanna make you feel so good.”

He moves his hand off causing her whine at the lack of sensation. “I should spank ya for teasing me like this.”

Oh man. She thinks, realizing the trouble she has gotten herself into. She did admittedly wear this dress just for Daryl, hoping he would notice her but he noticed her in different way. In one swift motion he sits down, grabbing both of her wrists and yanking her over his lap, she gasps. Her legs squeeze together, rubbing together for friction once more, her core dripping, begging and aching for him to touch her.

“Yer so needy baby. S’hot.” He murmurs, rubbing her skin from her back down.

She whimpers as soon as his hand makes contact with her skin, he lifts his hand and lands hard. The pain connects with her aching core, sending her forward slightly. He runs his index finger up and down her core.

“You like that baby?” He whispers, she nods, causing him to land his hand back down on her. “Use your words, sunshine.”

“Y-yes. Touch me, please!”

His hand lands hard again, rubbing the stinging part.

“I should make ya beg for it. Teasin’ me like that. Just like ya do all the time, this is for all those times, Y/N.” He says, the tent in his pants aching.

He collects the slick from between her legs and sinks two fingers inside her. She’s whimpering, aching and begging across his lap. Her body takes over, the knot in her stomach begging to be released as his thick fingers falter in and out, in and out. Her orgasm was intense, her thighs shaking and jolting from under his touch. He pulls them out in one swift motion, bringing them to his mouth and sucking off the juiced.

“You taste so good, bunny.” He groans.

“I want you inside, Daryl.” She begs, squirming from underneath him. “Please.”

He flips her over onto her back, her legs spread inviting him in. The sight is enough to bring you to heaven. He runs his hands over his face. The drunkness mixed with pleasure was something she’d never felt before, Daryl was definitely the only man to make her feel this way.

Daryl unzips his pants in one go, pulling down his boxers and taking his shirt off. His thick cock springs out of his boxers against his stomach, throbbing as every vein sticks out. Her eyes widen. Oh boy was she in for a surprise. He places his hand on her face, brushing her hair back. Her innocent drunk eyes looking into his. He was melting.

“You sure?” He asks.

“Yes, I want you to fuck me Daryl Dixon.” Her impatient response earns a chuckle from him.

He enters in one more, breathing harshly through his nose.

“Ahh!” She whimpers.

The bliss over came her, she pushes back to his thrust, leaving her breathless. Her wetness made him slick enough to slide out easily and re enter.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Your pussy was made for me, sunshine.” He hissed. “S-so good. Feels so good.”

“You feel so good. I love making you feel good.”

His thumb lands on her clit, rubbing in slow teasing circles. The feeling was once again taking over her body. She began clenching around him, causing another hiss out him, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades. Daryl would never forget the sounds falling from her lips. Her second orgasm sent her spiraling into sweet sweet serenity, shortly Daryl following behind with a string of cuss words, fully emptying in her. He pulls out watching the leaking cum slide out of her and he smirks, falling down in the bed next to her.

Her eyes were half closed, her breathing restoring back to normal. His mind suddenly shook from all the filthy thoughts and turned them into sweet cute ones, loving how messy her hair was, and how she was still in her dress, it rolled up and her panties slipped to the side for his easy access. He couldn’t help but savor the moment of the beautiful girl he loves, all fucked out because of him.

“Did I fuck ya to sleep, sunshine?” He whispers, running his fingers softly through her hair.

“Mhm.” She hums.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” He whispers placing a small kiss on her head.

She grabs his wrists. “No, stay. I want to snuggle with you.”

Snuggle? He snorts.

“Anything for you, bunny.”

He dips back down in the bed, holding her tight against his warm chest. Both slipping into a deep drunken sleep.

#daryl dixon #daryldixon #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon imagine #twd #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon twd #norman reedus #fanfic #twd fanfiction #twd family #twd smut #smut #twd imagine #imagine #rick grimes

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theconstantsidekick · 4 months

Text

Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (10)

Pairings: Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings), Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader

Genre: Angst with a sprinkle of happiness?

Summary: Goodbyes are a bitch, aren't they? Especially when you the future better than the people in question.

(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Past Trauma

a/n: i wrote this before the entire fucking series

“I have been thinking. I do that these days. I think a lot—all the time. You’ll be surprised to hear that it started long before whatever this shitshow was… I have been thinking a lot and I have to tell you, I hate thinking.” Tony’s sitting in his workshop at the compound as a hologram projection of his sister’s recorded message plays in front of him. He watches as she shakes her head with something akin to sorrow.

“It makes me heavy. It bogs me down with the weight of my thoughts—which inevitably turn into feelings. And you—you, Anthony Edward Stark, know better than any man who’s ever lived that my feelings are so. very. big. Humongous. Ginormous. Brobdingnagian.” Y/n laughs then, a broken small little thing, and shifts in her seat where she’s manspreading like she owns whatever place she recorded this message in.

“I think… I think about friendships. I think about you, and Nat, and Rhodey, and Howie, and Maria, and Peggy. Then I think about Thor off in space somewhere. I think about Bruce too and wish he’s miraculously found Thor and is on his way home, hopefully. I think about Sam, I think about Wanda and Vision and Happy and Pep and—it…it makes my heart heavy. Because sometimes I think about family and somehow all the same names pop right back into my head. It makes me feel warm.” She smiles, and his heart—his cheating, broken, angry heart—takes some solace in knowing that at least that was real.

“I remember when Maria handed you to me after she had spent hours screaming for you to just get the hell out of her in that hospital room. I wasn’t in there—in the room, I mean… I was too scared to go in—private moment and all that… Until your father came barging out, all sweaty and scared, like he was about to shit a brick. He walked past me at first but when he did, I got up on my feet and he turned and looked at me and his face went slack. I have never felt that kind of fear. But it was gone as quick as it came cause Howie was shouting at me, asking me where the fuck had I been this entire time while shoving me inside the delivery room. The moment I went in, your mother fucking screamed ‘thank fuck you’re here’! And that was that. If there was a doubt about it before, it was gone now. I was a Stark, through and through. Alien blood be damned. This was my little family.” Her eyes seem misty, Tony notes. She’s all dressed up in a spectacular all-white three-piece suit, with her blazer laid carefully on the back of her seat.

“I held your mother’s hand and watched as the most important person of my life came into existence. We were all crying by then, tears of joy.

“After it was over, she wanted to get some rest. Howard had apparently shat that brick he was so desperately holding onto by his perky asshole and was therefore already deep in slumber… which by the way—typical Howard. So anyway, Maria wanted a well-deserved nap so she handed you off to me. And I will never forget what she said. ‘Look after him, will you?’ It might have been framed as a question, but a question it was not. It was an order, as clear as day, written in blood and tears and leftover placenta liquid.” It makes Tony wonder how many more stories he has yet to hear. He’s known this woman his entire life, quite fucking literally and yet, in moments like these, the moments that matter the most, she always has a new story for him.

“I held you in my arms and I had a purpose. From that point on, I would have a purpose for the rest of my cunty god-forsakenly long life—watch out for you. To have your back, no matter what…” She exhales as her head falls, seemingly too heavy with thoughts for her to carry with any ease at all. “I had a duty of care.”

He watches as she brings her palms over her eyes, pressing them in to try to relieve whatever pain she can… None of it lifts, he knows. He’s speaking from experience.

With a deep breath in, she sits up once again. “I am not telling you all this to say that I would have chosen differently. I wouldn’t have. I never could have, I hope—I just hope one day you can understand why that was. I am, however, telling you all this in some twisted way to explain perhaps? All your life you have been used to the idea of me having your back no matter what happened, and this—this fucking cock boggling mess was the first fucking time I ever faltered. And for that… For that, I am deeply sorry, Anthony. My intention has never been to hurt you, ever. I said a lot of things. Really shitty stuff. I said those things in the heat of the moment—I couldn’t fucking stop it, Stark. I just couldn’t. Try as I might, they kept spilling. Th—there was a fucking hole in my chest, burning and itching and drilling deeper still. I couldn’t control it, it ached and hurt and burnt and I just… I couldn’t stop. Because it was fear. Because I was scared. I was—I still am. I am so fucking scared, Tony. I am always so goddamn scared, you know?” She’s a mumbling crying mess now, and Tony feels like absolute fucking shit.

“The life I had before all this, before you—it was horrid, Tony. It was so bad. I woke up every day hoping it would finally be the day I’d meet the bullet with my name on it and it would be my last. And every fucking day it wasn’t. Which was worse… but it was also better because I didn’t want to die, you know? I didn’t want to die without knowing what it—what it fe—felt like to be happy.

“I kept living in that filth.” There is so much fucking disdain in her voice as she speaks, his own blood starts curdling. “I kept going, kept doing The Orphanage’s dirty work, then I did HYDRA’s dirty work, then I did S.H.I.E.L.D.’s. Because I was scared. And as badly as I wanted to die, I wanted to live way more. I wanted—” She’s out of breath and she looks so fucking distraught, he doesn’t even know how to fucking react. He has never seen her like this. Years and years of living with his sister, an entire life’s worth of memories, and never did he know she was hurting this badly… How the fuck did he not know?

“I just wanted to live. I wanted to escape… one day. And back then, when I was in the fucking thick of it, it never felt like I could. You have to understand, up to that point, I had lived my entire life in what was the equivalent of one fucking jail cell after another. Never in my wildest dreams did I even think of having a room with a window, let alone a view. Even when I thought of it all ending—when I thought of my freedom, I thought of the ways I could hide, of where I could get passports, of what supplies I would need while being on the run from whatever organization had control of me at that time. I just wanted to own myself—and that would have been freedom enough.”

She composes herself.

“So, when you came to me with all your, honestly, very good intentions of getting us to sign the accords I was—” Her composer slacks, “I was back there again! I was back in a small tiny room, with an open fucking toilet and a bed that made you want to sleep on the floor. I was back to being controlled and tortured and experimented upon and I was back to being played with like a goddamn machine!” She’s almost pleading now, tears running down her face.

“I would do anything for you, Tony. You have to know that.” There is a seriousness in her words that scare the shit out of him, cause she says, “I would do anything for you. You want the world? It’s yours. I will burn it to the ground if you asked me to, not even question it. You want it whole and pure? I will conquer it for you in a fortnight. But–but,” she breaks once again, “But I couldn’t—I cannot do this. I cannot go back.” She wipes away her tears.

“I have tasted freedom now. I didn’t know how sweet it was before. I didn’t know what it felt like to have a family, to have friends who love me. I didn’t know what it was like to have a room with a view… I didn’t know what it felt like to have a choice. I can’t give it up now, Tony. Please, you have to understand, I can’t. I can’t go back. Please.” She’s fucking begging him now, she’s so desperate that it rips him apart. Is this what went on in her head when he talked about it all? She seems so fragile and afraid… he did this to her? He wasn’t aiming for this. He was never aiming for this. He just wanted to make up for his sins but… at this cost? At her cost?

“You know why I got the cruelest fucking missions they had? The ones that would rot you from the inside out? Cause they knew my past. They’d see my record, and they’d send me off to missions that were soul-sucking, motherfucking shit that made me puke my guts out the moment I was in the clear. Because jobs that filthy belong to people of filth. I got the jobs that couldn’t be done by someone with a soul, done by a man who was whole. It didn’t matter if it was The Orphanage, HYDRA, or even S.H.I.E.L.D. I got the soulless job because they knew I never had one, to begin with…”

Fuck him.

He’s the most selfish asshole out there.

She exhales then… a pause, a beat, and a moment of soft introspection. He can practically pinpoint the moment she decides to compose herself. It happens between the nervous bite of her lip and her jaw clicking in place. He knows her at least that well…

She sits up straight. “But that was then, and this is now. Now I have. Now I want. I won’t even let anyone touch my freedom, not even in death.” She clicks her tongue. “So it just makes me think, you know? I think about things like this. About you and your parents, and my friends—my family. I think about them. I think about these things when I wake up, when I fight, when I dream. All that is to say… I’m not callous about this life. I am not callous about the decision I made. It weighs on me heavier than you know. It wretches me apart, with every breath…”

He doesn’t want to hear the part that comes next.

“But—but I can’t stay, Tony. You know I can’t… and for that too, I am sorry.”

He’s never really spent a day in his life when he couldn’t reach out to his sister. He’s a fairly old dude, so you have to pardon him if he’s quite scared of it. He doesn’t know how to do it. He just doesn’t.

“I didn’t know about Barnes. Fuck, I didn’t have the faintest clue. And I absolutely did not know about that traitorous bastard who I won’t even dignify by naming. I—” Her fist clenches as she brings it up to cover her mouth. Her anger is so fucking palpable that Tony thinks he might just be able to sense it, that is until the footage starts glitching and he realizes, it’s cause her anger is making her emanate power. He thought he could hear static because there is fucking static, it is coming from her. She’s trying to calm herself down.

She breathes in, the footage settling. “He doesn’t matter,” She says with cold unfocused eyes and he can see how deep that secret has dung into her. “This isn’t about him. This is… this is about me, pleading with you, urging you to—to” she pauses, long and hard, with a small smile on her face. It’s the same one she wears when she knows she’s about to do something profoundly fucking stupid. Consider Tony terri-fucking-fied. “This is me urging you to, at a much later date in life—try and forgive Sergeant Barnes.”

“Woman, have you gone fucking crazy?!?!! Did you hit your fucking head when you decided TO DROP A BUILDING ON US?!” Tony knows he’s screaming at a holographic projection but it’s not for naught.

Because his sister is waving away his screams with an annoyed face, “Don’t fucking freak the fuck out. Just like, listen to me! TONY!” His tirade stops. She—her recording, somehow just knows. Cause then she exhales. “I am not saying now, and I am certainly not saying you have to. I am just pleading with you to consider it… Because—well because there are countless people out there in the world who…” she bites her lip. “I am to them what Barnes is to you. Except, unlike me, Sergeant Barnes never even had the chance to rebel, he was brainwashed and tortured, and broken down to be used.” And before Tony can begin to protest, her hands fly up to stop him. “That was all I wanted to say about that. I am done, the decision is completely up to you. Just you, and there is absolutely no right answer, just the one you choose. This was just…” she smiles, “something for you to think about.”

He can’t help the corner of his mouth from curling a little as well.

She kicks back then, hands crossed in front of her as she looks around wherever she is. “That, yeah. I think that was my grand speech. I know it feels like I’m leaving you behind somehow, but I promise you I am not. I’m just a… actively hunted fugitive of the state.” She shakes her head from side to side in consideration before adding, “And I have a few dues to pay… I’ll be back once they are cleared.”

She looks up at him then. It almost feels like she’s in the room with him.

“But no matter what happens, I’m here, Tony. You know how to reach me. And I will always come when you call. I will always be there for you. Even if you don’t see me there, trust me. I am there. I will always have your back.”

Something catches her eye, she pulls out her phone and checks it.

Rolling her eyes, she pockets the device and looks back up at the camera.

“Ugh, yeah. I think our time here is up…” She finally smiles, happy and true. “You just pulled in, so I gotta run.”

WAIT, WHAT??

HE JUST PULLED IN?

TO WHERE?!!

He runs back to his station, “F.R.I.D.A.Y. run diagnostics on the recording, analyze it top to bottom, tell me where it was taken.”

Meanwhile, he watches as his sister stands up.

“I love you, kiddo. And I’m always right behind you.”

More commotion on the recording as F.R.I.D.A.Y. responds, “Sir, the footage was taken here, at the Avenger’s compound.”

“That cocky bitch,” Tony curses, almost in awe of her. Cause fuck! Even Rogers had the good sense to courier his fucking apology. What was this woman thinking? “Tell me when F.R.I.D.A.Y.!”

He watches as his sister puts on her blazer and fixes up her suit.

“17 minutes ago, sir,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. answers.

“WHAT?!”

“There was a gap in the security footage, it was cloned to play in a loop. It’s almost seamless sir, except this,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. presents the footage on the screen in front of him.

Meanwhile, the hologram of his sister walks up close to the camera and leans down to look at it face-to-face. She presses a kiss to her fingers and presses the fingers to the camera.

“See you, space cowboy.” With that, the holograph is gone.

Tony falls onto his chair in complete surprise and an unwitting smile on his face, as he watches his sister on the CCTV footage waving at him with a wink.

“That fucking—”

Find the series masterlist here. Find other Static Verse works here.

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moronkombat · 11 months

Note

Liu Kang and Kuai Liang with an s/o that's afraid of fire?

Liu Kang is very aware of your fear of fire. He found out about it through others before even properly meeting you

As God of Fire, he was immediately hesitant in approaching you as he would not be able to hide his status from you nor would he want to do that

He knows not telling you that he is God of Fire is wrong and he does not want to do wrong by you

When he first meets you, he does not showcase his abilities at all but is honest about his position

Liu Kang picks up on your nervousness when you hear him introduce himself and he is quick to say that he recognizes your aversion to such an element and respects that. He continues to say he will never once use such abilities in your presence

Your friendship blooms from there and Liu Kang does not break his word. He avoids using his fire when with you which puts you at ease

The relationship between you blooms naturally and you are the first to suggest being more than just close friends

Liu Kang has been wanting more for a long while but was hesitant to ask because of his fire wielding abilities

He is almost scared to hold your hand, fearing that it may be too warm or hot for you or if you'd shy away knowing that those fingers could burst into flames at will

It is an adjustment for you but you trust him to keep you safe and to shelter you from fire

The world is not all perfect, however, and there comes a time where he needs to protect you and he can only do that by using that which terrifies you the most

He tells you to close your eyes and you know what is going to happen and you are trembling and shaking

You don't dare open your eyes as you feel the burst of warmth rush into the air and the screams of those burning

You stay huddled and hunched over and Liu Kang looks to you with a heavy guilt. He wants to hold you but worries that you will push him away

He stands there unsure of what to do until he feels your arms wrap around him tightly while you sob and tell him how scared you are

Liu Kang's eyes would widen before he returns the embrace and pets your hair telling you that he is sorry and that it is all over now

Kuai Liang met you by chance and is grateful for it. However, because of this accidental meeting his pyromancy is not disclosed

In fact, as Kuai Liang gets to know you and develop a relationship with you, he decides not to disclose it so he can surprise you with a grand displays of what he can do

Kuai Liang is rather romantic so he plans it out perfectly, or at least he thinks so

He brings you to somewhere dark, so dark you can barely see. When you joke about how thick the night is, he tells you that he can fix that

Flames burst from his hands as he lights the torches of the path in an impressive pattern

He is so excited to see your expression but when he turns to see you, there is no joy. There is horrible hanging fear

You are shaking and backing away from him and he asks you what's wrong but you can't speak, you're too afraid of him

When he approaches you, your instincts tell you to get away from him and so you scream and move to run

It doesn't take long for him to put the pieces together and realize that his fire has scared you and suddenly Kuai Liang feels like a fool

He tries to express his apologies to you but you are far too frightened to listen to him and he doesn't try to keep you from going

Kuai Liang tries to think of ways to apologize to you but struggles due to his immense amount of guilt and shame

When he meets you again, he hangs his head lowly and profusely apologizes for bringing you such terror and repeatedly calls himself a fool

Both of you know feel awful and decide maybe to try things anew and start over in an effort to better understand each other

Kuai Laing is grateful for giving him another chance but you assure him that it is not his fault as he had no way of knowing what you feared

You two rebuild your relationship and you actually talk to him about conquering your fear of fire and Kuai Liang is happy to help you but only if you are absolutely certain that is what you want

#mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat fanworks #mortal kombat headcanons #mk1 #mortal kombat x reader #liu kang mk1 #liu kang #liu kang x reader #mk1 kuai liang #kuai liang #kuai liang x you #kuai liang x reader

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sylusjinwoon · 9 months

Text

{ 114 }

resolutions.

mike schmidt x fem.reader

the moment mike schmidt came home from his shift at work, you had already said your goodbyes and goodnights to abby. being hired as abby's babysitter for roughly a year now, you were close to the schmidt siblings and developed a relationship akin to friendship with them.

you held your bag in tow, brushing back your hair as you met with mike. there was a sheepish expression on his face, and you figured he was going to tell you that he would be late once more with your babysitting fee. yet when he reaches into the pockets of his jeans to pull out a stack of cash, you were pleasantly surprised, to say the least.

"thank you so much for your help. this should cover this week and the last but uhm, i'm sorry if it's a few dollars short."

you shake your head and told him not to worry about it, pocketing the money within your bag.

although you knew that it was time for you to go, there seemed to be something that stopped you from leaving. for starters, mike was still standing directly in front of you, eyes darting all across your form as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

you tilt your head at him in question, knowing that he wanted to say something to you with the way he kept opening and closing his mouth. he repeats your name a few times, the syllables coming out in stutters as he struggled to tell you something, yet still, nothing substantial ever came from his parted lips.

"mike, can she stay over for new years?!" just then, abby's voice was heard ringing across the room, with her standing just a few feet away from you and mike, her brown eyes widening with a strange eagerness within its innocent gleam.

"w-well- abby, it's getting kind of late and maybe she doesn't want to stick around anymore than-"

"no...!"

your sudden outburst makes mike take a step back as you could feel the heat against your cheeks. this was a secret kept to yourself and only to yourself- but ever since you had first laid eyes on mike, you developed a bit of a crush on him. he just looked so soft in his signature, hunter green sweater and jeans. his brown hair was perfectly tousled, and you hated to admit that those perfect curls that fell across his forehead made your hands tremble and ache with the need to run their fingertips against them.

to say you didn't mind staying close to mike (and abby) would be more than an understatement. each time they insisted that you stay over for dinner while watching a blockbuster movie or play a round of some board games, you never once declined their offer-

and you certainly weren't going to start now.

clearing your throat in hopes of hiding the fact that you really wanted to stick around, you gently let go of the straps of your bag, allowing it to fall against the floor with a gentle thump!

"as long as you're both okay with me being here, i-i don't mind sticking around for the new year."

by now, abby was jumping up and down excitedly, reaching mike as she gripped at his arms while repeating please please please like a never-ending mantra. a tiny smile graces his features as he meets your expectant gaze. "you really don't mind?"

"not in the slightest, mike."

you could practically feel the excitement in the air, their joy and happiness becoming so palatable that it became almost contagious. you spent the next couple of hours eating the freshly delivered pizza while watching the news coverage of the new years countdown in times square.

as time passed, you danced with the live music playing on the t.v., telling stories all while laughing and having a good time. the clock struck 11:50pm, and that was when the crowd was heard bursting with excitement at the new year that was quickly approaching. you, mike, and abby were settled on the couch, and you took notice of how abby was nodding off. her eyes kept squinting at the television screen, yet each time mike asked if she wanted him to take her to bed, she would vehemently shake her head no.

"'m fine, i'm not tired at all." there seemed to be a determination in abby's gaze, one that was fitting for such a strong willed girl like her. moving away from mike, she clutches her sketchbook close to her chest, her gaze now unwavering as she stared at the screen, ready to join in on the countdown.

you tried to ignore the warmth you felt with mike settled next to you. his close proximity wasn't anything foreign, but was something you knew you could never get used to. you could feel his shoulder occasionally brush against yours, but neither of you ever once said a word.

the clock read 11:55pm, and you became aware of some soft snores coming from the opposite end of the couch. with a tiny smile felt spreading across your face, you lean forward to see that abby was already sleeping, her tiny form curled up against the couch with her cheek resting against the armrest.

you were ready to say something; ready to comment on how cute abby was and how lucky she was to have him as her brother when the softest expression you had ever seen graces mike's features. you watch as the back of his hand gently touches abby's cheek, and you knew that you could no longer deny what you had been feeling for mike this entire time.

you knew that your heart was stolen by him ever since the day you first laid eyes on him.

gathering your courage, you swallow back the fear that was threatening to overcome you, knowing that if mike didn't know how you felt, then he may fall deeply for someone else. you shakily call out to mike, making him face you.

he detects the anxiety coursing through you, his expression filled with concern as he meets your gaze. "hey, what is it, what's wrong?"

you wring at your hands, clenching your fingertips together as a way to comfort yourself. you tried to keep your voice even while maintaining his gaze, but somewhere along the lines, you lost your courage.

wishing to hide yourself from mike, your eyes look away from him and towards the t.v. screen where they were now counting down the final minute for the new year.

60...59...58...

you hear mike softly call out to you once more, "is everything okay?"

"everything is fine, mike. i was just wondering..."

44...43...42...

you met his gaze while letting out a sigh. "i was just wondering if you had any new years resolutions you wished to achieve this new year."

20...19...18...17...

you heard mike let out a soft chuckle, his hand reaching out to you as he brushes your cheek with his fingertips, "it's funny you ask, because i do have a resolution i hope to accomplish pretty soon, actually."

mike suddenly leans closer to you, making you nearly hold your breath when you said, "a-and what would that be?"

10...9...8...

his lips were a mere centimeters away from yours, and you could feel his hot breath against your skin when he answers, "to finally make you mine."

3...2...1... HAPPY NEW YEARS!

fireworks were seen dotting your periphery when mike finally kisses you, slotting his lips perfectly together against yours as you lean back against the couch, accepting his kisses. both of your eyes were clenched shut, yet it seemed that mike was always able to find you as he drew you to him. you could feel the way his hands delve into your hair, causing you to moan as you turned into a puddle whilst in his embrace.

you were ready to deepen the kiss, actually desiring for mike to take it further when a small giggle was heard. mike immediately pulls away from you, completely red-faced and mortified as abby was seen gazing at both you and mike.

"finally, it was time that you lovebirds got together. i got tired of seeing you dancing around each other and decided to take matters into my own hands." abby brushes back her strands of dark hair while ripping a page out of her sketchbook, giving it to mike before excusing herself to her bedroom.

your heart was still pounding, and you were certain that your expression held the same amount of embarrassment as mike's. you clear your throat and inch closer to him, curious as to what abby had given him.

as you rest your chin against his shoulder, you look down at the sketch clutched within mike's hand to see a cutely drawn picture of you and mike holding hands with abby off to the side, holding what looked like a bow and heart arrows. the picture was honestly so adorable that you and mike began laughing profusely.

by the end of your laughing fit, you were breathless, losing strength as you fell back into mike's arms. "i can't believe abby knew all along."

you shake your head in response all while facing him, settling yourself against his lap as you wrapped your arms around his neck. too caught up in your throes of first love, you began to press lingering butterfly kisses against his skin. "and to think i was foolish enough to try and hide my feelings from her."

mike hums in agreement, brushing his nose against yours in a sweet gesture that had your heart racing in response when he tells you. "as embarrassing as that was, i have to say, i'm glad that my new years resolution came true."

and you couldn't agree more to his sentiments.

a.n. - i've missed writing for mike, so have something fluffy and sweet for the new year 🥹 🎆

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt fluff #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #five nights at freddy's #michael schmidt x reader #michael schmidt x you #.stories

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 4 months

Text

Every Little Thing She Does is Magic, Chapter 1

Pairing: Platonic Steven Grant x Reader (for now)

Rating: T

Word count: ~3150

Story Summary: Steven meets a beautiful woman in the Egyptian exhibit at the British Museum...

...Too bad she's his new boss.

Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent since Steven still works for the British Museum post-canon, No Jake Lockley, developing friendship

A/N: Welcome to the start of my first Steven Grant story! This will be multiple chapters (not exactly sure how many, although I don't expect it to get too long.)

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this (or any of my other writing), please let me know!

Title from the song of the same name by The Police.

Steven Grant whistled cheerfully to himself as he ascended the steps of the British Museum. He had managed to successfully translate the hieroglyphic code he had been working on for the past week, gotten a full night's rest, and had even caught the early bus to work.

He checked his watch. Eh, I've got a bit before I have to clock in. Might as well pop by the Egyptian exhibit to see if they changed the placard for Mekhet yet.

He headed over to the exhibit, sighing with disappointment when he noticed that the placard was still incorrect. It's been three months. The least they could do is place a temporary sign until a new, permanent one came in.

He was just about to go put his bag in his employee locker and clock in early when a woman walked up next to him and began reading the placard on the statue.

“You know, that's actually wrong,” Steven said.

The woman glanced over at him. “Excuse me?”

Steven placed her accent as American, but couldn't pinpoint the region. Must be on holiday. He pointed at the placard. “The placard. It says that this is Menhit when it's really Mekhit.”

The woman looked at the placard, then back at the statue. “Oh, is it really?”

Steven nodded. “Menhit was actually a solar goddess, representing the brow of Ra and depicted by a reclining lioness, while Mekhit was the goddess of war, which is why she's depicted as a roaring lioness.”

The woman smiled at Steven. “Well that makes sense.”

“She was also known as the ‘Eye of Ra’,” Steven continued, encouraged by her friendliness. “It was said that the Eye left Ra and transformed itself into a lioness, after which it was hunted down and returned by Onuris, then it transformed into Menhit, which explains the similar names. And there's also Mehit, with no k or n, who was associated with the moon and was also depicted as a reclining lioness, but with three sticks behind her.”

The woman chuckled. “Imagine someone in Ancient Egypt accidentally praying to the wrong god or goddess because of a spelling error. Like, ‘oops, sorry, I meant for Mut to help me, not Nut ’.”

Steven grinned. “I've been trying to get my bosses to fix it for months now, but honestly I shouldn't be surprised. Took them ages to correct the banner depicting the Ennead. Only seven of them were on there when there were supposed to be nine.”

The woman glanced over at the banner, which now included all nine of the Ennead. “Oh, so you work here?”

Steven nodded. “Oh, er, sorry, yeah. I'm not just some nutter chatting you up in the Egyptian exhibit, I promise.”

The woman laughed. “Well either way, you're very knowledgeable about Egyptian history.”

“Oh, I love history, especially ancient Egyptian history. I find it fascinating.” Steven bit his lip. “Is it alright if I show you my favorite exhibit? It's just right over there.”

The woman nodded. “Sure.”

Steven led her over to the statue of Hathor. “This is Hathor -- Egyptian goddess of music, joy, pleasure and love.”

The woman grinned. “I see why she's your favorite. She gets all the fun stuff.”

Steven chuckled. “She was also goddess of beauty and the protector of women, and she was considered one of the most powerful of all the gods and goddesses. Early cosmetics and mirrors were left at her temples as offerings.”

The woman smiled. “She sounds pretty amazing.”

Steven nodded. “Oh, she was. In fact, it's said she--”

“Oy! Stevie!”

Steven startled at the sound of Donna's voice. “Oh, bollocks,” he muttered. ‘I'm sorry, I've got to run.”

The woman nodded. “That's quite alright. It was nice meeting you… Stevie, was it?”

Steven shook his head. “Actually, it's Steven. With a ‘v'.”

“Nice meeting you, ‘Steven-with-a-v’.”

“You too.”

Steven tried to hurry away but was accosted by Donna, who immediately began to give him an earful. “How many times do I have to tell you, don't bother the visitors!” she hissed loudly. “The new museum director's coming in today and the last thing she needs to see is employees faffing about.”

“But I’m not -- wait, new director?” Steven vaguely remembered Donna mentioning a few weeks prior that the museum board had finally hired a new director. “Who is it?”

Donna shrugged. “I dunno, some poncy American. Anyway, as I've said before, you're not a bloody tour guide. Your job is to sell overpriced rubbish to whiny little brats and their caretakers. Now, I want the gift shop fully stocked and in tip-top shape by the time the new director arrives. You should've been doing that already instead of dawdling.”

Steven glanced back at the woman, who was now studying the hieroglyphics on one of the nearby sarcophagi. “But I'm not -- I was just --”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, flirt on your own time. Not like she'd be interested in the likes of you anyway, innit?”

“But I wasn't --” Steven sighed as Donna stalked off. “Okay then, good talk.”

He trudged over to the staff lounge area, stashed his messenger bag in his locker, and clocked in before heading to the gift shop.

He cringed when he saw the state of it. Clearly no one had bothered restocking after the gaggle of families and tour groups had blown through over the weekend. This'll take me all bloody day. Luckily Mondays are usually pretty quiet.

He quickly pinned his name tag to his shirt and began to straighten and organize the various plushies and knickknacks between customers, making note of what he needed to grab more of from the storage room.

He was organizing the Seshat figurines several hours later when Donna walked out of her office. “Oy, Stevie, the new boss lady wants a word with you upstairs.”

Steven swallowed nervously. “Me? What for?”

Donna shrugged, a slight smirk on her face. “You know, I heard that there was a bit of a shakeup coming with the new regime but I thought it'd at least be a few days before you got sacked. Guess not.”

Bollocks, Steven thought. Hopefully there's at least a decent severance package. “Okay. Well, off I go then.”

He set down the last figurine and headed out of the gift shop towards the lifts. “Maybe they'll at least let me finish my shift before they give me the boot,” he wondered aloud as he pressed the button to call the lift.

“Why are you so worried?” Marc replied in his head. “You don't even like this job.”

“I do like it,” Steven protested, catching Marc's face in the reflection of the shiny metal doors. “Well, sort of. And anyway, we can't afford our flat without it.”

Marc was quiet for a moment. “I got some money,” he finally said as the lift arrived. “From Dad, after Mom… Well anyway, I've never touched it so that should keep you afloat for a little while until you find another job.”

The ride up to the 5th floor was one of the longest of Steven's life. He stepped out of the lift, nervously trying to tame his wild curls but ultimately just making his hair more messed up. Oh, bollocks.

He walked down the hall to the door marked Director and knocked.

“Come in,” a voice said.

Steven took a deep breath and entered.

He froze. Standing behind the museum director's desk was the woman he had been talking to in the Egyptian exhibit before Donna had spotted him. “Oh, erm…” Just my bloody buggering luck.

The visitor from earlier (the new museum director, you bloody great twit, he corrected himself) smiled warmly. “Hello again, ‘Steven-with-a-v’.”

“Er, hello, Miss.” Steven could see his employee file open on the director's desk and began mentally going over their entire interaction from earlier, trying to figure out what exactly he had done in order to get sacked so quickly. He hadn't been on the clock at the time so it wasn't like he actually had been dawdling instead of working, and he hadn't really complained about his job beyond mentioning that the display placard for Mekhit was incorrect and about how long it took for the banner depicting the Ennead to be corrected.

The director motioned to the chair in front of her desk. “Have a seat.”

Steven sat as the director took her seat as well.

The director folded her hands in front of her and placed them on her desk. “First of all,” she began, “apologies for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N, and I'm the new director here at the museum. I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you to my office, especially so soon after starting my tenure here.”

“Er, yes ma'am,” Steven replied nervously, glancing up at the framed Ph.D hanging on the wall before once again looking at his open employment record.

Dr. Y/L/N slid Steven's file over to her and studied it for a moment. “You work in the gift shop, is that correct?”

Bollocks, here it comes. “Yes, ma'am.”

“You've never had any interest in becoming a tour guide, have you?”

“I'm sorry, ma’am, I wasn't trying to --” Steven blinked rapidly as her words registered. “Wait, what?”

Dr. Y/L/N looked up from his file. “Tour guide. You ever thought about it?”

Steven nodded. “All the time, actually. It's what I dream of doing.”

“Then why haven't you ever applied for an open tour guide position?”

Because Donna keeps telling me that there's no way it would ever happen, so why bother? “Well I, er…”

Dr. Y/L/N leaned back in her chair. “We actually have a current opening for the Visitor Engagement Specialist position… if you're interested, that is.”

Steven was speechless. “Visitor Engagement Specialist? But that's -- that's the head of programming and tours.”

Dr. Y/L/N nodded. “Yes, that's right. I'd like to offer you the position.”

She gestured towards his employee file. “I've read over your CV, Steven, and you're more than qualified.”

Steven was still processing. What the bloody hell is happening?

Sounds like you're not getting fired, Marc answered. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Steven shook his head. “Even if I applied for the position, wouldn't I need to interview for it as well?”

Dr. Y/L/N’s lips turned up in a small smile. “Oh, but you already have.”

Steven’s brow furrowed. “I have?”

Dr. Y/L/N nodded. “The museum’s visitor numbers have been declining lately, so over the weekend I took a few tours to see how they could be improved, and to be quite honest I learned more from speaking to you for 10 minutes in the Egyptian exhibit than from taking 3 separate hour-long tours throughout the entire museum. You certainly had me enraptured during our conversation about Mekhit and Hathor this morning.”

She gave Steven a warm smile. “I would consider that enough of an interview to offer you the position, wouldn't you?”

Steven huffed out a nervous chuckle. “I -- I suppose so, ma’am.”

“The current tours are stale and boring,” Dr. Y/L/N continued. “And the guides themselves could use some, well, guidance from someone with your knowledge of and enthusiasm for history and folklore. I think you could plan some wonderfully engaging tours.”

Steven rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I do have some ideas on how the current tours could be improved… So, er, what exactly does the position entail?”

“You'd work closely with the Curatorial department to develop programming and tours based on what we have on exhibit at the time while concurrently managing the Programming department. Of course, that would include being on the regular tour rotation as well as handling any specialized tours -- large groups, VIP guests, and the like. I know it would be a lot of work, but the position also comes with your own office as well as a sizable increase in pay.” Dr. Y/L/N quoted a figure that was more than double what Steven currently made. “Plus benefits.”

Steven’s eyes widened. With that sort of salary he could afford a bigger flat closer to the museum. “That's -- that's quite generous. I don't know what to say.”

Dr. Y/L/N nodded. “I know this is probably a bit of a shock, so feel free to take some time to think about it. Think you could give me an answer by the beginning of next week?”

What's there to think about? Marc chided him. You're being handed your dream job on a silver platter. Say you'll take it, dumbass.

Steven ignored Marc. “Yes, ma'am.”

Dr. Y/L/N closed Steven's file. “By the way, I put in an order for a new placard for the Mekhit exhibit. Thought you'd like to know.”

Steven grinned. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

“And one other thing…” Dr. Y/L/N paused briefly. “Does your current supervisor often speak to you the way she did this morning?”

Steven was taken aback. “Donna? Well, actually, er… well, she's a bit prickly, yes.”

“I see. And have you reported her behavior to anyone?”

Steven shook his head. “No, ma'am. Don't want to cause a scene or make things worse.”

“Mmm. Well, this 'poncy American' is going to have a private chat with her later on the way we treat our subordinates… and refer to our superiors.”

Marc chuckled. I think I'm in love.

Yeah, me too, Steven replied. Too bad she's my boss.

He really hadn't been flirting with Dr. Y/L/N earlier, although if Steven had been more confident he might have actually considered it. As it was, however, he was glad he hadn't. Most likely would've gotten sacked in that case.

Dr. Y/L/N stood. “Alright, Steven, thank you for coming in. Please let me know as soon as possible what your decision on the Visitor Engagement Specialist position is.”

Steven stood as well. “I will, ma'am. And no matter what I decide, thank you either way for the opportunity.”

“You're welcome. And thank you for such a stimulating conversation this morning. I thoroughly enjoyed it.”

Steven smiled. “I did too.”

He headed back down to the gift shop, where Donna was standing behind the register reading a book.

She looked up as Steven approached the counter. “What, still here? Figured you'd have cleared out your locker by now.”

Steven shook his head. “The new director just wanted to introduce herself and speak with me about something. Guess she's doing that with everyone.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “In that case, when you get done with restocking there's a new shipment of items that need to be unpacked and sorted.”

As if she couldn't have been working on all that shit herself while you were gone, Marc said as Donna headed back towards her office. Would you seriously rather be stuck with that than be the head of tours and programs? You know she's just going to make things more difficult after she gets reprimanded this afternoon.

Steven sighed. Yeah, I know.

Being a tour guide is exactly what you've been wanting to do since the day you started, and being the head of the entire department? Just think… you'd actually be in a higher position than Donna. Wouldn't you like to rub that in her face?

Steven chuckled to himself as he thought about Donna having to answer to him for a change. Yeah, actually, I quite like the thought of that.

Then what are you waiting for?

You know what? You're right. Steven straightened. I deserve this position.

Damn right you do. Ever since we figured out how to work together you've been able to hold down your job just fine and haven't even been late once. You'll be great.

Steven moved over to the phone and pulled up the staff directory before dialing Dr. Y/L/N's extension.

“Yes, may I help you?” Dr. Y/L/N's voice said briskly over the line.

“Er, uh, Dr. Y/L/N, this is Steven… Steven Grant, from the gift shop?” Steven stammered out, suddenly losing his bravado.

Dr. Y/L/N's tone warmed immediately. “Yes, Steven, what can I do for you?”

Steven took a deep breath. “I've decided I don't need the week to think about your offer. I accept.”

“Wonderful!” Dr. Y/L/N sounded pleased. “I'll have HR start on the transfer paperwork right away so we can have you in your new position by next Monday. There's a couple of new Egyptian artifacts on loan from the Cairo Museum arriving on Thursday afternoon and we're wanting to have them installed by the beginning of next month, so hopefully we can have you settled and able to rework the tour to include them by then.”

Steven nodded even though he knew she couldn't see him. “That shouldn't be a problem. Thank you again for this opportunity, Dr. Y/L/N. I really appreciate it.”

“You're welcome, Steven. I honestly think you'll thrive in your new position and I'm glad you accepted it.”

“Me too.”

“The museum board is introducing me to some benefactors in ten minutes so I'm afraid I've got to run in a few, but I'm looking forward to hearing your ideas on how to improve the current tours. Maybe we can talk more on Friday? I'll be meeting with the Curatorial department that morning to discuss placement of the new artifacts.” Dr. Y/L/N paused. “You know, actually, now that I think about it since you're going to be involved with that anyway I'd like you to sit in on that meeting as well, even if it's just to observe and check out the new artifacts for yourself.”

“Certainly, ma'am.”

“Ok, great. I'll let Donna know that I've scheduled another meeting with you and that your shift needs to be covered on Friday. What's your current schedule looking like for next week?”

Steven rolled his eyes, grateful that Dr. Y/L/N couldn't actually see him. “Donna has me doing inventory all next week.”

Dr. Y/L/N hummed. “Ok, well then it shouldn't be a problem to find someone else to cover that.”

“No, ma'am.”

“I'll see you Friday morning, then. Goodbye, Steven.”

“Goodbye.”

Steven hung up the phone. “Wow,” he said under his breath. “Wow, wow, wowee wow.”

Marc chuckled in his head. You've hit the big-time now.

“I get my own office. I get my own phone extension.” Steven's eyes widened. “I get my own business cards. ‘Steven Grant, Visitor Engagement Specialist’.”

Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

Steven nodded. “I still can't believe it.”

Believe it, buddy. Life is looking up.

Steven grinned. "It is, isn't it?"

He knew one thing for certain -- he couldn't wait to prove to Dr. Y/L/N that she had made the right decision.

#lotmf writes #steven grant x reader #steven grant x f!reader #steven grant x female reader #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant fanfiction #ELTSDIM Masterlist

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mushroomwoods · 11 months

Text

amidst the lonely nights

he would always remember your presence, and somehow it never got better like you said it would.

character — Fierce Deity, romantic/platonic.

cw — death/suicide, hurt/no comfort, confusing timeline.

oh haha, the hurt never gets better boys, it will actually eat you inside out and make you cry like i was while writing this. ;)

anyways, don't know what made me write this, but still, the food is served.

His being would forever be bound to loneliness, but that he had already acknowledged.

Many humans had seeked his presence before for many other reasons, power, allegiance, death and even friendship, and of course he always found those things utterly ridiculous, however there was something about you that just drew the deity closer.

Living a quaint, lonely life in the outskirts of some forgotten land, somehow reminding him of himself. The peaceful night's you spent laid under the sea of stars, the mundane routine followed every other day, the new practices you caught up after reading a worn book left behind at some abandoned cottage. It all only served to make the deity even more mesmerised by you.

The first time he appeared before you, was in a time you held yourself to learn how to brandish a greatsword, it wasn't uncommon or unheard of for common people to start learning how to use weapons, especially with the many wars that started raging around the world, but somehow he doubted someone like you would even be able to kill someone should the need arise.

It was a surprise however, how instead of running at the sight of him, you instead glared, lifting the greatsword enough to reach his waist line.

When he didn't react for many minutes tough, your only reaction was to sigh, turning your back to him and going back to practice. Not a single glance back at him.

The next time he reappeared was a week later, this time you only glanced at him once, before going back to washing a set of clothes you held in your arms.

And then it was three days later.

And when he got to himself, everyday, for at least a single hour he was there to observe you.

It wasn't until the second month that you talked to him.

“What is the war deity purpose for visiting my unbecoming presence every day?” Your voice scratched at the back of your throat from the disuse, but it sounded just perfect to him.

He shook his head, there was not a motive, at least not one know by him.

That day he was invited to sit beside you, while you flipped through the pages of a children tale you found in a rotting inn.

The war was slowly taking those lands, but you didn't seem to mind, living your life at leisure and all alone, refusing to move even if the world around you tried to force you to do so.

He envied you.

This type of freedom you gave to yourself. The lack of fear even when faced with the greatest of the dangers. The devotion you had to yourself and thus living your life to the fullest.

It was only a matter of time.

Until they got there, until they saw you as the enemy, until they tried to pull you away from him, as they always did.

But you were always an enigma, the interesting kind, the one who never lacked surprises, and ever the only one with the ability to break him whole.

The guards hadn't even unsheathed their weapons when he saw you, a bright smile crossed over your face, as if you regretted nothing, as if it was only right for you to part this way.

And thus his sword, the one he trained you with, the one he saw you brandishing every single day with some kind of newfound joy, the sword which he could finally use to save someone instead of killing. This sword that swore to protect you, killed you.

His sword painted in your blood, while the people stared at the scene both awe and horror. It was ethereal.

You were dashing, even in your last moments.

And possibly you'd always be, the only being that could plague his mind like that even in the break of dawn as he could only watch as time continued to flow even without you, not a single soul able to remember the pure joy that you could bring to another with a single tilt of your lips.

Even when you always reminded him that everything in life was fleeting, he always told himself that everything could be fleeting but the memories of you, which he would carry for the rest of his lonesome and immortal life.

#fierce deity #lu fierce deity #fierce deity x reader #linked universe #(?)#linked universe x reader #(???)#fungi's delicacies

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mirandasidefics · 3 months

Text

But Home is Nowhere- Chapter 9 (Pt2)

Pairing(s): Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel X Plus Size Reader, and Ruhn Danaan x Plus Size Reader

Chapter 9 Pt2 Summary: Reader and Lucien finally get a chance to be alone while the High Lord of Day attempts his hand at subtle match making. However, things don't go according to plan.

Word Count: 9.3k (oops)

Warning(s): 18 + (MDNI), flirting, angst, alcohol use, self-deprecation, low self-esteem/worth, sexual tension (no smut), and nudity.

A/N: Here is the second part. This is a Lucien heavy chapter and was a BEAST overall. But I had so much fun writing it. There are a couple of places where the POV switches suddenly, but I wanted to show each scene from different character perspectives and not have to repeat the same events to do so. Again, thank you to @hardcoremarvelfan for her assistance with this chapter start to finish! And thank you to my team of beta readers! You guys are all amazing! Please let me know what you think. This is a slow burn fic, and I hope it's not moving too slowly story wise.

Series Masterlist Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Previous: Chapter 9 Pt1

During your breakfast of fruits, yogurt, and pastries, Helion informed you and Lucien of Mor’s return to the Night Court. The story he provided was that she had been called away by Rhysand. You knew that was a lie but didn’t understand why Helion would do so. Lucien simply shrugged, not at all fazed by her absence. You knew that he still didn’t quite get along with many of Rhysand’s closest friends and found family. To your knowledge Lucien never joined the ranks of that found family. Never present for the “family” dinners and only stayed for part of the two main holiday celebrations in the Night Court, Starfall and Winter Solstice.

For your first Starfall, Nyx had been just a bit too young to join in on the festivities. So, you stayed at the River House caring for him. After about an hour of supposed celebrations Lucien had joined you. You smiled as you remembered taking turns reading him a bedtime story.

When the Winter Solstice came around, you had opted to stay at the townhouse alone. You claimed to have your own traditions that you wanted to keep. Which was partially true. However, the thought of not being with your own family yet having to witness the happiness of another kept you confined to your bed. Though you had been pleasantly surprised to find the small gift from Lucien on your dresser that morning. It was nothing fancy, just a small blank notebook. The cover consisted of beautiful, pressed pale-yellow chrysanthemums and daisies preserved in a glass window.

Part of you had wondered if the choice of flowers was intentional. So, you had asked Elain if she was familiar with their meanings. She told you they meant friendship and new beginnings. Fitting in so many ways. You returned the gesture a few days later, baking him some of your Grandmother’s famous fudge. He hesitated at first, but eventually accepted the sweet treat.

One of Helion’s hearty laughs pulled you from the memory. You would have to express your gratitude to the High Lord. For the reprieve from being watched. It was a relief to not find Mor outside your bedchamber waiting for you as she had the past few mornings. Now you could have the conversation with Lucien that you’ve wanted to for over a week. You wanted, no you needed to pick his brain for insight regarding your passage through the Prison wards, your confrontation with Azriel, and your dream. He had left so abruptly. You needed to check in on his well-being as well.

Your eyes drifted over to Lucien; the male’s russet eye crinkled at the corner as he joined in Helion’s laughter. The sight took your breath away. The smile was wide on his features. His shoulders didn’t hold the same tension they had the day before. The golden hue of his skin simply radiated joy. In that moment you couldn’t burden him with your problems, despite the pull you felt to talk to him. At least, you couldn’t burden him right now. You knew that you had to talk to him at some point. The confrontation you had with Azriel and Mor’s blatant comments about your time with your best friend weighed heavy on your mind.

“Oh, if the two of you would excuse me,” One of Helion’s attendants righted himself after whispering in the High Lord’s ear. “I have a few things to take care of, but I will see you later this afternoon. If you haven’t had the chance, I would highly recommend a walk through the botanical gardens.” He winked at you and rose from his spot. While you were happy to finally have the time alone with Lucien, you weren’t sure if you’d be up for a walk.

“That sounds lovely,” the Autumn Court male rose from his seat as well, offering his arm. “Shall we, my lady?” You couldn’t stop the laugh that spilled from you. You soon found yourself rising to your own feet, linking your arm with his. How on earth are you supposed to say no to his smile?

Lucien could tell that she was tired. Her steps were slightly slower, and the light tint of blue underneath her eyes hinted that she hadn’t slept. He wondered if her despondent mood was based on the lack of sleep, or if it had to do with Mor's comments. She had been detached for most of their time in the palace and he was having trouble reading her. He had hoped that with Mor leaving her mood would improve. Seeing as that was slow going, he would have to see to it himself that her good humor returned.

The gentle breeze jostled her hair. The sound of wind chimes echoed across the oasis, nearly drowned out by the sound of the small water fountain at the entrance to the garden. The lush archway was covered in ivy and wisterias. For a fleeting moment he was reminded of the Spring Court, and the gardens that surrounded Tamlin’s manor. He glanced at the human beside him, her eyes glazed over as she took in the scenery around them. A small part of him felt bad for dragging her out here, but they hadn’t really had any time alone together in over a week. All he wanted was some time with her away from prying eyes.

Of course, separation wasn’t new to them. There had been times when he would be down in either the Spring Court or Mortal Lands for weeks on end. Yet somehow this past week and half felt different. Perhaps, it was because he had remained in Velaris and…he felt guilty for lying to her regarding his whereabouts. Even more so after learning from Ruhn of her sleepwalking incident. He expressed gratitude towards the Midgardian male for being in the townhouse that night.

A part of him knew he shouldn’t have let Amren’s admonishing comments get to him. Especially after (Y/N)’s breakdown at the Prison. Nonetheless he stayed away. Those comments, coupled with Morrigan’s penchant for observing the truth of matters, perhaps it was high time that new tactics for the woman’s healing journey be explored. He knew Ruhn would be all too willing to help with how tightly he was warped around the human’s finger. Truth be told, the idea of another male sharing her bed didn’t sit well with him. But if Ruhn could provide her with the care and support that Lucien himself couldn’t… He’d have to bite his tongue and express his gratitude again when he asked him to continue to look out for her.

As they walked towering hedges, ones taller than Lucien, lined either side of the white pebbled path. Every now and again a small alcove would be carved out. Some with seats that allowed you to bask in the sun, others had tables. One even had what appeared to be a canopy bed. Lucien watched her from the corner of his eye as they made their way through the labyrinth.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” He questioned as she tried to stifle a yawn. She turned her head towards him, eyebrow furrowed. He could almost watch the gears turn in her mind as she debated on telling him the truth. Her focus continued to fade in and out, pupils dilating and contracting ever so slightly.

“I haven’t really slept since our first night here,” Her face fell with the admission. His heart ached at the shame that filled her voice. Prior to the events at the Prison, she had been doing well. At least well enough that he hoped a few days away would not have taken the toll it did on her. And if the tonics weren’t working; then they truly would need to find alternative solutions to managing her nightmares.

“With Mor around I didn’t want to risk,” She paused. “I didn’t want anyone to worry about me. The tonic isn’t helping. I think I’ll need to talk to the healers directly to find out if there was a change in the ingredients. Or if it's possible that a person can become tolerant of them.” She looked at him then. A sadness mixed with that lingering shame.

Lucien kicked himself internally. He really should have told Mor to shut the fuck up regarding her opinions on their relationship, especially if she was going to continue to keep the nature of her own romances a secret. The fact that she was now the second of the higher-ranking members of Rhysand’s court to express their thoughts on his friendship was not lost on him. It was also not lost on him that (Y/N)’s feelings were irrelevant to them. In much the same way that Nesta had been forced out of her darkness, it appeared that the Inner Circle believed themselves superior in knowing when a person needed healing and how that healing should occur. The only difference between the eldest Archeron and their new target was that (Y/N) was not on a path of self-destruction.

“We should rest then,” He took her hand and interlaced their fingers. “There was a nice area in an alcove just a few paces back.”

“No Lu, it’s okay,” She tried to protest. “I’m okay, I promise.” Lucien continued his path, gently tugging her along. Despite her words, her body didn’t resist him.

“Then why do I not believe you?” The resting area was the perfect setting for a nap. Tucked behind a wall of green and under a beige fabric canopy was a large mattress resting on a stone platform. Pillows and blankets of varying sizes were tossed about in a decorative fashion. Knowing the reputation of this court’s High Lord, the bed was probably used for activities that did not involve sleep. However, his companion desperately needed some rest. Nothing would deter his resolve in seeing that she had found a few moments of peace.

“Why does he have a bed in the middle of the garden?” She asked, coming to a halt after rounding the corner of what served as the entryway to the alcove.

“I’m almost certain we do not want the answer to that,” Lucien chuckled, pulling her along. He sat her down on the mattress and began to remove her sandals.

“I can do that myself,” Lucien swatted her hands away.

“It's fine,” He made quick work of the straps. “I’m already done.” He placed her footwear to the side and kicked off his own boots, setting them next to hers. Gently, he pressed her back to lay on the bed. His own body followed, hovering over her form for the briefest of pauses, and then he was next to her lying on his side. She rolled over to face him, allowing his arm to drape over her waist before he brought her closer.

“Get some rest,” He encouraged as his hand began to stroke up and down her spine. A soothing gesture he often used to get her to calm down when her mind raced at night.

“But I’m not tired,” She fought another yawn.

“Bullshit,” He chuckled.

“Okay, I’m a little tired,” She relented, tilting her head to look at his face. “But I can’t take a nap right now, not when I have so much to tell you.”

“And what is so urgent that it can’t wait an hour or two?” He smirked. She twisted her arm out from underneath her body and pointed her index finger at him.

“You have to promise that this information is cataloged in the farthest and most well-guarded recesses of your mind,” Her tone was serious. “Rhysand cannot find out, even if there is a good chance that he already knows.”

“I swear,” He tried to match her serious tone, but he knew that his smile was getting in the way. Pushing herself up on her elbow, she swirled her head around, looking for any potential eavesdroppers. Once satisfied, she bent down towards his ear. Her breath puffed against his skin, causing the small hairs on his neck to rise.

“Rhysand’s story of me being his cousin is very likely true,” She whispered. “There is a secret entrance to the Prison that Bryce pushed me into that day. I was able to pass through the ward, in and back out, with no issue.” Her eyes were conspiratorially bright.

“Is that what made you so upset?” He tried to reign in his mirth. “That you found out you are related to an overgrown bat?” Rolling her eyes, she sighed and lightly smacked his chest.

“No,” Her tone became softer as she laid back down. “I cried because I allowed myself to feel a glimmer of hope, just to have it dashed by a failed portal to my world.” The hand at her back reached up to her face, his fingertips brushing the side of her cheek.

“I’m so sorry.” She gave him a weak smile, brushing off her own feelings as she attempted to shrug her shoulders. “Is that what caused your nightmare?” His hand returned to its previous ministration along her back. Again, she shrugged.

“Could be,” He felt a shiver run through her at whatever memory surfaced. “All I remember is a festering and desolate darkness that tried to drown me.”

“That’s not ominous at all.” She released a breathy chuckle as her eyelids drifted close.

“My dreams are never prophetic,” She explained. “Just weird. It’s more likely my mind’s way of trying to process being cornered by Azriel in the kitchen that night.” Her voice drifted, and if she noticed Lucien’s hand freeze at her revelation she didn’t let on. Lucien felt locked in his anger towards the Shadowsinger.

“What did he want?” His voice was clipped.

“He wanted to apologize,” She buried her face into his chest, and the rising anger settled. “I told him off instead. Nicked his chin with a knife as well.” Her exhalation evened into a steady rhythm, and he resumed running his fingers along her back. The repetitive action soothed his nerves as well.

“Good girl,” She hummed in response. As she finally drifted off into sleep, Lucien’s mind swirled.

You hadn’t even been asleep for 30 minutes when an attendant came and woke you. Begrudgingly, you and Lucien complied, the male putting your sandals back on for you despite your ongoing protests. The attendant led you back to your room where several dresses were laid out on the bed and hanging in the armoire. Dresses in varying shades ranging from stark white to cream to ivory. Some were speckled in golden accents, others all monochromatic. One dress was entirely golden.

The dress that immediately caught your eye was a simple column gown with thick shoulder straps that seamlessly flowed down to create the bodice. The neckline was low and would reveal an ample amount of cleavage. A braided rope created a beautiful silhouette, cupping the outline of the bodice’s breasts and wrapping around the waist several times over. The attendant informed you that the dresses were yours and for your use in the Day Court whenever you came to visit, along with the room itself. While it was a similar gift to what Rhysand had done, Helion’s offer was not one of apology or self-assigned obligation. The true intent of his action had not been lost on either you or Lucien. Helion’s offer marked a standing invitation, and an allyship if ever needed.

With the help of another female attendant, you had changed into the dress. You had to hide the small blush on your face as you watched Lucien pause when you emerged from your room. The two of you then followed the male attendant through the winding cobblestone streets of the town surrounding the palace. He led you to a large building whose entrance reminded you of the Parthenon in Athens.

Helion was inside, sitting at a long central table. A stack of books piled to his mid-chest. He was scribbling on a piece of parchment paper with a feather quill. You smiled at the sight, but you couldn’t quite place why. His greeting was as warm as always. Excusing the attendant, he gave you and Lucien a summary of the central library’s history. The one you were in currently was the largest library within the Day Court, but it certainly was not the oldest. However, he was confident that whatever information you were looking for on Prythian's early history would be located within its walls. You simply smiled in thanks; you had not yet revealed that you were from another world and looking for a way home.

After an afternoon spent searching through books, the last thing you had the energy for was another formal dinner. It almost seemed that the High Lord was aware of your lack of sleep when he offered a much less formal affair. An evening in a small intimate chamber. The center of the room consisted of a square recessed seating surrounding a fire pit. Two walls were lined with books, while a third housed a small selection of wine next to the door leading to the rest of the place. The fourth really didn't exist as it was yet another open entrance to a terrace that overlooked the lands. So many of the rooms were open in this manner, allowing the natural sunlight to fill the space.

Currently you were snacking on bits of herb roasted chicken, plucked off one of the wooden trays of food that lined the edges of the pit, a few were even scattered along the empty seats. In your other hand was a large clear goblet, filled with a deep crimson wine. Helion informed that the batch was made from the palace’s ancient vineyard, a testament to a perfect blend of ancient craft and magic. You had to admit that the wine was the best tasting wine you had ever experienced.

Fae Wine was much sweeter than you had expected. Flavors of dark cherry and bergamot coated your lips and tongue.At first Lucien didn't want you to drink the intoxicant. After plenty of reassurance from Helion, Lucien only warned you to pace yourself. Of course, you didn’t listen, not fully realizing that Fae Wine was much stronger than normal wine. You found yourself with your walls and inhibitions considerably lowered. For instance, if you had drunk regular wine, you wouldn't have been unabashedly staring at your friend for the better part of 15 minutes. Despite his continued conversation with Helion sitting across the way, you could tell he watched you as well.

“Forgive me for asking,” You sat on your knees, leaning towards Lucien as he sat in front of you. His legs stretched out on the large couch in a relaxed posture. “I know it must be a sensitive subject, but how does that golden eye work?”

“I can see out of it just like my real eye,” He explained, turning his gaze fully towards you. “My friend from the Dawn Court enchanted it, allowing me to see. I have complete control over the device, and it responds and reacts in all the same ways my natural eye does.” Your eyes went wide, and you felt your cheeks burn from your smile.

“Absolutely fascinating,” You crawled over to him, the alcohol preventing you from caring about personal space. You climbed into his lap, straddling his hips, and began to examine the contraption. You had never looked at the eye up close. The mechanics were definitely a marvel to behold.

“It does more as well,” He smiled at you, his fingers playing with the ends of the cords holding your dress together. “It has the capability to see through magical deceptions. Glamours, spells, and occasionally lingering traces of magic.”

“How?” You cupped the right side of his jaw, turning his face to get a better look. Accompanied by a faint whirring the pupil of the mechanical eye expanded.

“When there is lingering magic on an object, or even a person,” He began. “The image becomes hazy, out of focus. The eye focuses until the image is clear, which allows me to see the true nature of the object.”

“What do you see when you look at me?” He turned his head forward to look into your eyes. His lips open and shut like a fish causing you to giggle. You gently rubbed your thumbs on each side of his face as you held it.

“I think your boldness has put him at a loss for words,” Helion laughed from his seat across the way. You had forgotten that you weren’t alone.

“He’s spent too much time in those stuffy seasonal courts,” Lucien scoffed at the High Lord’s comment, the puff of air hitting your neck. “Perhaps he needs a proper demonstration on how to respond when a beautiful woman seats herself upon his lap. Care to join me for that demonstration?” The High Lord patted the top of his muscular golden thigh.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. Biting your bottom lip, you started to move off Lucien’s lap. You only managed to move about 2 inches before you felt his warm hands wrap around your hips pinning you against him. Heat bloomed in your core at the friction. His lips curled up in a snarl as he stared at the other male. Helion merely grinned.

“Oh hush!” You smacked the redhead in the center of his chest, your other hand moving to his shoulder to keep your balance. “He’s joking. We all know that I’m not beautiful.” Your voice became softer as you said the words out loud. Despite your slightly drunken state, you felt the shift in the air as both males practically began to examine you.

“How would you describe yourself my dear?” Helion asked. It was your turn to pause. You had never really seen yourself as beautiful, but you also knew that you weren't exactly ugly.

“Plain,” You hummed, twirling a bit of Lucien’s long hair around your finger in your attempt to feign an air of nonchalance. “Homely, unappealing, just shy of decent.” You rattled off each synonym. Your attention shifted to Lucien as your name drifted past his lips. You unraveled the hair from around your digit.

“What?” You honestly didn’t understand why he appeared displeased with your statement. “Oh don’t give me that look, Lu.” You playfully pushed his face away from yours, but remained seated in his lap.

“How should he look at you?” Helion asked, leaning forward on his elbows. The merriment that filled the room was slowly dissipating. “Because from what we see the description you provided for the woman in the room with us is a bit harsh.” Your face flushed with irritation, leaning back and away from Lucien’s chest. Why couldn’t they understand that you had accepted the fact that you weren’t beautiful and just leave it at that?

“Well for starters I don’t need false praise,” You tried to keep the air light, the following lie floating off your tongue. “It’s not harsh when what I say about myself is objectively true.” You shifted your weight, but Lucien’s hold on your hips was firm.

“Then by all means,” He waved his hand, smiling as if he had won. “Tell us some of these objective truths.”

“I’m not conventionally pretty, but there are parts of me that are…nice,” You stated, turning your upper body to lock your gaze with the High Lord. You square your shoulders before speaking again.

“Like my legs.” You felt Lucien’s hands drag their way down your hips down toward your thighs. You felt exposed by the soothing circles he rubbed into the bare flesh as the dress’ fabric fell at the slits. The alcohol coursing through your veins gave the impression that his hands were warmer than usual.

“What else?” Lucien’s voice was barely above a whisper. A reassuring squeeze to your outer thighs sent a scorching heat through you. Your legs tensed and your hands fell to your sides.

“My eyes,” You swallowed, your attention returning to the male underneath you. “I think my eyes are pretty.” As Lucien’s mismatched eyes bored into you, you noticed a fire burning in his russet iris.

The flame grew as he stared at you, and your heart began to flutter. You watched as his golden mechanical eye expanded and contracted. His lips twitched with unspoken words. Words you were suddenly afraid to hear. His fingers danced around yours, trying to interlock them, but you kept them at your side. You needed to curb this conversation before you were set on fire by the intensity of his gaze.

“But it has been my experience that when men give me compliments they only do so because they want something from me, not because they genuinely believe their words to be true.” Your head whipped back to the High Lord. “As soon as they don’t get what they want their pretty words turn to ash.”

“That last one is not objective then,” the High Lord pointed out. “Rather those are the words of scorned human men, not Fae males who understand and see the natural beauty in everything the Mother has created.” Your body felt hot, and you shifted your weight as far from Lucien’s hips as you could. Poised and ready to leave if this conversation continued.

“I’m sorry High Lord,” Irritation flashing over your senses, causing the filter from your brain to your mouth to momentarily slip away. “But those are just more pretty words.” Lucien’s hands gently followed your body’s every shift with a sense of hesitation to them. You didn’t want to focus on what that hesitation meant.

“No need to apologize to me dear one,” Helion leaned back in his seat. His honey eyes flashed to Lucien, whose grip on your upper thighs tightened unconsciously. At least you hoped the action was unconscious. You didn’t want to believe that he would ever want to hold you close in what was certainly a compromising position. Hastily, you stood up from your perch on his lap.

“I’m sorry,” The apology tumbled from your lips, and you ignored the flicker of disappointment on his face. “If I made you uncomfortable…I sometimes…I should go. Excuse me.”

“Wait,” Lucien swung his legs to the side of the couch and grasped her hand, desperately trying to interlock their fingers. “Please, love.”

“Let go, Lu,” Her breath was ragged as she gripped the wrist of the hand trying to hold on to her. “Please.” Her fingers slipped through his, and he could tell that something wasn’t right. His eyes fell to her legs, the fabric of her dress parting at the high slits showcasing their shape as she raced for the door. Helion sat up again, watching as she darted past, calling your name as well.

“I didn’t intend for the conversation to upset her,” Helion apologized as the door shut behind her. “It’s a shame she doesn’t see her beauty. She is remarkable.”

“She is,” Lucien continued to stare forward, his voice breathless as his eyes lost focus. “She’s beautiful.”

“Beautiful, yet in a very different sense from your mate. I have nothing against the Archeron girl, but (Y/N),” Helion’s eyes lingered over the space that she hurried from. “She seems much more your speed. Don’t let her go so quickly.”

“She doesn’t belong to me,” Lucien stated simply. His eyes regained their focus on the male before him, schooling his features in the process.

“Hmm…Then should I see if she’s interested in joining me in my chambers tonight? Worship her like the goddess she is.” Frustration built up inside him, nearly boiling over and Lucien’s mask of indifference fell ever so slightly. The High Lord raised an eyebrow. “Or perhaps not.”

The two males sat in silence for a few moments longer. The once light atmosphere now dulled in the human’s absence. Lucien could feel the beginning effects of the alcohol on his mind, as he drummed his fingers along his knee. Her departure didn’t sit right with him. The way she spoke of herself. If Helion sought her out, his words and actions may only solidify her beliefs about herself. She should hear it from someone she trusts to be honest with her. Lucien had to make it right. She had to see that she was stunning in her own way.

Abruptly, he stood from his chair and strode over to the wine rack. Grabbing two bottles of Day Court’s best he then stormed out of the room.

“Have fun,” Helion smiled as he watched the door close behind Lucien. “Son.”

Lucien didn’t even bother with knocking on her door when he arrived at her room. With one bottle under his arm, he simply turned the handle and strode right inside.

“Why must you go and say such things?” He demanded.

“What things?” She was grating his nerves.

“You know damn well what I mean.”

“I’d really rather not fight with you Lu,” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Can we have this conversation when we are both sober? My head is starting to hurt, and I’ve not slept in two days!” She walked over to him, hands wrapping around the fabric of his white linen top. A playful pout danced across her features. Almost instantly the anger drained from him.

“By the Cauldron,” He dramatically rolled his eyes. “How can I say no to that look?”

“You can’t,” She smiled, tucking a stray strand of his hair behind his ear. “You are my best friend here Lucien. I just want to change and relax, preferably by curling up with you on the balcony. The weather is so nice here.” He gently clasped her hand, holding her palm against his lips.

“As you wish,” He watched as something crossed over her features, but it was gone too quickly for his buzzed mind to process. With surprising grace, she walked over to her luggage and pulled out her nightclothes before proceeding to the ensuite bathing chamber. With the tap water running, he made himself busy by finding glasses and pouring each of them a fresh glass of wine.

When she emerged, he was lounging on the “L” shaped couch set just at the opening of the bedroom as it led to the balcony. The khaki-colored cushions were plush and soft as he leaned against them. She sat down next to him, and he handed her the glass he poured. She immediately consumed half the glass, before she tucked herself into his side.

The town below Helion’s palace glowed a soft warm golden hue. It almost reminded him of Autumn, with the torches and gas lamps lining the streets of the village nearby the Forest House. Together they drank their wine. His arm over her shoulder, her free hand raised to hold his dangling fingers. They sat like that for a while. They sat for so long that he almost thought she had fallen asleep.

“Azriel thinks you and I are fucking,” Her statement pierced the comfortable silence.

“What?” Lucien nearly choked on the last dregs of his wine.

“Yep,” She emphasized the ‘p’ with a pop of her lips. “Apparently, I am a shameless human whore corrupting the right and virtuous Fae Lord.” She giggled to herself. “Oh! That rhymes!” She lightly smacked his chest in delight.

“He called you a whore?” Lucien could feel his fire just under the surface of his palms.

“No. No,” She took a small sip from her glass. Her eyes still focused on the flickering lights of the town surrounding the palace.

“But there was a clear disapproval of the fact that we share a bed whenever we are together,” She sighed, Lucien’s nod was barely visible as she continued to ramble. “Remember when I told you about how he cornered me in the kitchen? That’s when he insinuated that I must enjoy having another female’s mate in my bed. Apparently, beds are no longer used for sleeping. Just fucking, and since we share a bed that must be all that we do. Fuck.”

That now made three. Three members of the Inner Circle expressed their disapproval of his actions. Already believing that he was not a male of his word. He knew he didn’t have the best reputation after…while living in Spring the past couple centuries. If he had to be honest, he was an absolute rake. So why was he trying so hard to prove otherwise now? He was startled as she let out a dramatic gasp.

“What if that’s the reason my sleep tonics don’t work!” Uncrossing her legs she spun to face him. “What if one of those fucking assholes switched them out? For contraceptives!” Lucien blinked at her a few times, his brain trying to process the near ludicrous statement she had made.

“That is an interesting theory,” He couldn’t hold in his laughter. “But you always fall right asleep after taking your tonic. So how does that fit in?”

“That could be the placebo effect!” Her animated movements caused him to laugh more.

“The what effect?” He laughed. She groaned and slapped her palm against her forehead.

“So, the horrible cliff notes explanation is that my brain had adapted to falling asleep right away after drinking my tonic,” He nodded along even though he had no clue what she was saying. “So, if someone switched it without my knowledge, my brain still thinks it’s taking the same tonic. Therefore, it behaves in the same way by flooding my brain with the “sleepy time” signals. My brain is tricking itself into falling asleep, but the tonic isn’t actually in my system to keep me asleep. I have nightmares because my brain isn’t getting what it had been before.” Her eyes were wide, and if she hadn’t drunk nearly three bottles of Fae Wine on her own since the start of dinner a few hours ago, he may have believed her.

“Okay, well then for the sake of the argument,” He placed his empty glass down and began scooting closer to her, “Maybe they are doing us a favor. I do sleep in your bed more often than I sleep in mine. And I was known as a male with many dalliances.” Waggling his eyebrows Lucien clutched her arm and leaned into her side. She looked at him with round wide (e/c) orbs.

“Perhaps we should take advantage of these contraceptives and ravish each other,” He buried his face in her neck, playfully growling and nipping at her skin. She yelped and pushed at his face, all the while giggling. He grabbed the back of her knee, the act of pulling her towards him resulted in her back landing on the couch cushions below. Taking her wine glass out of her hand, Lucien set it on the small table. Her laughter was contagious, and he felt lighter than he had in days.

“Be serious,” She continued to giggle from under him. “You wouldn’t want me.” He leaned down, hovering above her.

“What makes you think that?” He brushed his nose against hers. This time she didn’t laugh.

“The fact that you are a good male,” She squeezed his cheeks together until his lips puckered like that of a fish. His vision blurred as the skin was mushed around. She let go and slipped out from under his arm. He sat back up and watched as she picked up her glass. His mouth dried up as her ass jiggled from her prancing a few steps out of his reach and back into her bedroom proper.

“That has nothing to do with wanting you or not,” He said smoothly, standing and following her inside.

“You’re right,” She mused. “But you don’t want me.”

“How do you know? What makes you so sure?”

“First, you have a mate,” Her tone took on a more serious edge. “One that is beautiful beyond comparison.” He remained silent. It was true that his mate was the most beautiful female he had ever seen. So then why did he feel guilty when he saw the sad recognition in (Y/N)’s eyes.

“Secondly, this,” His eyes followed her hand as it waved up and down the length of her form. “This is not attractive. This-”

“Yes, you are,” He was breathless. He watched as she clenched her jaw.

“No,” Her tone was indignant. “And I’ll prove it to you.” She set her glass down on a nearby table and her hands immediately clasped around the hem of her top. In one quick motion the emerald top was gone, and Lucien’s breath caught in his throat. Mother spare him, he tried to look away but wasn’t quick enough. His eyes caught sight of her bare breasts as they gently bounced from the movement.

“I hereby challenge you to a game of chicken,” Picking up her wine glass, she sauntered over to him, swaying her hips. “The first to show physical signs of arousal is the loser.” She held out her free hand to him. He knew that the terms of the little contest were set in her favor. She’d have to allow him between her legs for him to see any evidence of her arousal, but he convinced himself that the wine swayed him to agree.

“What does the winner get?” He asked, pulling his shirt up and over his head. Her eyes roamed over the expanse of his chest.

“The right to determine where the night goes,” Her saccharine smile practically sent him to his knees. “Anything goes, except the direct stimulation of genitals.” Suddenly, the room became unbearably warm. She continued her path towards the bed. She set the glass back down on the nightstand, and slowly removed her matching emerald silk sleep shorts.

He felt himself stiffen at the view of her shapely bare form before him. While he could blame the wine for influencing him, he had clearly already lost. He said a silent prayer in thanks to the Mother that his trousers were still on, and she was facing the opposite direction.

“Though I do believe that the odds are in your favor,” She giggled to herself as she turned to face him. She placed herself on the bed as she watched him, picking up her glass for a final time. He took the opportunity to finish undressing, watching as her throat bobbed from swallowing the rest of her wine. Her eyes sparkled as he shed the last bit of his clothes.

“You know how I know?” She practically purred from her position on the bed. “Because you’re too good a male to find anyone except your mate arousing.”

“Being a good male is a burden really,” He smiled, and began to crawl up the mattress. A fox hunting its prey.

“Poor baby,” She leaned against the headboard, arms settling over her stomach, blocking it from view. He was vaguely aware the pose served a double purpose of hiding what she felt was a flaw while perfectly framing her assets. He reached where she sat on the bed. She allowed his fingers to trace up along her bicep, over her shoulder, and across her collar bones. His golden eye focused on the skin that pebbled in the wake of his touch.

“Poor baby indeed.”

“If you were to relieve your burden,” She allowed his hand to continue its travels up the side of her neck and cup her cheek. The scent of arousal permeated the air, but he didn’t call her out on it. He lowered his face towards hers, their noses barely touching.

“I would wrap my lips around your nipple like a starved babe,” Her eyes went wide but were quickly filled with doubt. He watched as she visibly started to close herself off. Shoulders slumping forward and her knees rose to her chest.

That was not exactly the desired effect he had wanted from her. He wanted her to know just how gorgeous and tempting she really was. And Cauldron boil him she was tempting. His gaze wandered over her form to the ivory lace bottoms she still wore. Even without the alcohol coursing through him, he knew in that instant that if she were completely bare before him, he would bury his face between her legs. He should have called her out for the sweet scent she emitted.

“We should sleep,” Her voice whispered, as she turned away from him.

“And miss the opportunity to prove to everyone, to ourselves, that-”

“We are just friends,” She interrupted, turning back to look at him. Her gaze traveled over him. “Besides, you lost the game.”

Lucien sighed as she fought back her own giggle. The tension in the air evaporated just as quickly as it had arrived. He didn’t need to look down to know that he was hard as a rock. He should have known better than to agree to her terms.

“Fine you win,” He turned and sat next to her on the bed, his left leg bent to block her view of him. “But you are a cheater by wearing those panties.” She stuck out her tongue. He took a few deep breaths to try and calm his erection. In through his nose, out through his mouth.

“You know,” Her voice trailed off as she covered herself with the cotton sheet. “I feel a little bad about your situation. But I really do believe that…”

“I wouldn’t have proposed anything more than sleeping, love,” He reassured, pulling the sheets back and climbing under them as well. “Not because you are right, but because you desperately need sleep.” She nodded, humming thoughtfully to herself, before she turned on her side facing away from him. He started to scoot over towards her when she pushed her hand in his face.

“Nope!” She warned. “No cuddles until you’re flaccid.”

Lucien was just on the cusp of waking. His base senses and instinct were the only things drifting through the fog of early morning slumber. The room was quiet, as was the still sleeping city outside. A cool early morning autumn breeze danced over the bare skin of his shoulder as it peaked out from under the light cotton sheet. The air caused the flesh to rise in small bumps, each one threatening to bring even more awareness to his consciousness. However, it was a welcome sensation compared to the stuffiness of the room. Then again, the shifting body next to him was pleasantly warm.

Slowly he became aware of his hand resting on a soft plush thigh that was wrapped over his hips. The weight of the limb was comfortable and grounding. A steady rhythm of warm air ghosted over the pulse point of his neck. His voice involuntarily gave way to a whispered hum. With the slightest shift, to not wake himself nor the figure next to him, Lucien merged into the softness. Hand wrapping around the waist to bring the plush figure flush against his, he allowed himself to meld with the body resting nearly atop him. Soft full breasts pressed into his chest and a hand found its home near the top of his shoulder.

The scent of vanilla and honey lulled him back into a relaxing sleep. He didn’t even notice the touch of jasmine was missing from his mate’s scent. It was replaced with another soft warm earthy aroma. Amber. She felt so good sleeping against him. A slight nudge of the tip of her nose against his throat caused his hips to buck ever so gently. He didn’t dare open his eyes or move as the female took a quick inhale of breath. Nothing sharp enough to indicate wakefulness. The nose again brushed along the column of his throat, a set of plush lips quickly following.

He was nearly awake now with the blood rushing to the growing appendage below his waist. He didn’t know what had entered Elain’s mind to where she felt the need to crawl into bed with him, but he was glad she had. Except…that didn’t seem right. He hadn’t fallen asleep in the Night Court last night. Therefore, there was no way that Elain could be here right now. His heart went into an instant gallop as his eyes shot open. It most certainly wasn’t Elain that was so tightly wrapped up around him. Carefully he pulled his head back far enough to look at the sleeping woman. As he looked down at her figure he tried to prevent his length from stiffening more.

The early morning rays of sunlight filtered through the sheer white gossamer fabric hanging down around the marble columns surrounding the bed frame, cascading down across her skin that wasn’t covered by the sheets. Her features were relaxed as she continued to sleep on his chest. Something deep in him, deeper than where his magic lingered in his bones, hummed. He knew that he should be separating himself from her, but he couldn’t get his body to comply. It was as if it would only respond to a higher power, one that was perfectly content to have him remain right where he was.

He must still be drunk. That’s the real reason for his lack of control. Bits and pieces of the night before tried to stitch themselves together. He remembered entering her room, another two bottles of Fae wine in his hands. Mother above, two bottles. Internally, he rolled his eyes at his past actions. That had been a mistake. He didn’t remember if they finished said bottles, which then led to his conclusion that they must have. It had been a long time since he had woken without his memory fully intact. As much as he wanted to continue to lie like this with her, he knew that should the wrong person decide to enter the chamber they would have a more difficult time dissuading any rumors. However, he couldn’t bring himself to jostle or rush her out of her slumber.

A gentle tracing ghosted along the skin of your back. The shiver that passed over you slowly brought your mind to consciousness. You knew instantly that Lucien was with you simply from the fact that you were not screaming. You felt like you were floating, you were so at peace. Your own fingers twitched along the warm skin of the chest beneath you.

“Good morning sweet girl,” Lucien murmured. Perhaps you were still dreaming, but you could have sworn you felt his lips press against your forehead.

“Hmm, morning,” You didn’t want to open your eyes. Pressing further into his warmth, something stiff poked at your inner thigh. Your eyes shot open. You bolted upright, flinging the sheet to the side and stared at the expanse of golden skin before you.

“Why are you naked?” Your voice rose in pitch and volume with each word, your cheeks flushing crimson. ‘Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look!’ You really tried not to look down, but you apparently lost the ability to maintain control of your own body. Your (e/c) orbs darted down and back up. You desperately wanted to rid your mind of the image of his hard cock, if even just to prevent yourself from wandering to it late at night, but you knew that that sight would be forever burned in your brain. You shook your head of the fleeting thought that the females in his life must certainly have had a good time with…well, him.

“I think the better question is why are you?” His own eyebrow quirked up in mirth. He clearly found this all much more amusing than you did. So far, all this has just proved that maybe it was time for distance. You glanced back down at your own body to see that you were in fact mostly nude. You sighed in relief when you saw that you still had a pair of underwear on. However, your relief was quickly replaced by horror in the fact that Lucien was able to see the rest of your naked form. You were aware this wasn’t exactly the first time you’d been in a state of undress around him, but he had always averted his eyes.

Your head snapped up to look at him. Had you been any slower you would have missed the fact that his gaze rested on your chest. Hastily pulling the blankets to cover yourself, your face flushed a second time. You likely would not have minded his stare had you been wearing a bra or a tank top. You knew that your full heavy breasts were eye-catching and enjoyed that fact when you had your short bouts of confidence in your appearance. But that wasn’t when gravity had full control of them as it does now.

“What happened last night?” You wracked your brain for any explanation as to why you’d both been in your current nude state.

“What do you remember?” He asked. You wrapped the sheet around you, tucking the ends in at the top to form a makeshift robe.

“I remember returning to my room,” Your brows scrunched together. “The rest is blank. Fucking shit balls, I’ve NEVER been black out drunk before.” You pressed the heels of your palms against your forehead. Your head hurt and nausea washed over you. You were going to be sick. Grabbing the bottom of the sheet you ran towards the ensuite bathroom.

The porcelain toilet was cold against your fingers as you heaved your guts into the bowl. Within seconds, a pair of hands carded their way into your hair and pulled it back out of the way. One hand continued to hold your (h/c) locks back while the other rubbed your back in soothing circles.

You were grateful for him. He seemed to always know what you needed and would support you in any way you needed support. And you knew you’d do the same for him. So, the least you could do is support the fact that he has a mate by putting some distance between the two of you. And he’d need to know exactly why, even if it meant being hurtful at this moment.

“The others have been talking,” You started, but another wave of sickness left your body.

“Shh,” He continued to rub your back. “I-I know. We can talk about that later though.”

“I think it's best if there is some separation between us,” The words felt hollow in your ears even though you say them. “I’m not about to be labeled a homewrecker, despite the fact that no home exists for you and Elain right now.”

“Nothing happened between us,” He tried to reason, but you could hear the uncertainty in his own voice. “Did it?”

“You don’t remember?” You turned to look at him as he continued to kneel next to you, you noted that he had yet to cover himself. His hands paused for the briefest of moments. As the waves of your nausea subsided your attention went towards your lower body. You knew your body well. While you were no virgin, it had been a few years since you had sex. Given Lucien’s size, and the lack of a dull ache between your legs, you could tell that at least no penetration

had occurred between the two of you. He was certainly a much better male than anyone gave him credit for.

“I’m quite certain nothing happened,” You rested your head against the bowl. “And why would it? Look at me, I am nothing compared to her.” You wanted to ignore the flame that shone in his eye. The one you knew was sparked from irritation.

“Surely you must not think that I’d be so shallow-”

“Aren’t all men-males?” You were going to win this fight. You would always make sure you won this fight. Anytime someone tried to convince you that your appearance didn’t matter you would argue against it. You had been scorned too many times by men in your past. You knew that your appearance certainly did matter a great deal to anyone that wasn’t just looking to get his cock wet.

“Then again, men don’t care what you look like if they know the night will end in sex.” But they certainly cared when it meant introducing you to others as a potential partner. And as far as you were aware, your physical appearance wasn’t ‘girlfriend or wife material’ worthy. Lucien just stared at you, so you stared right back. Even if he had to lie to you, lie to himself, you could not afford to hope that Fae males were any different. You could not hope that any of them could find you beautiful.

“I will not lie to you-” His voice almost sounded defeated.

“Good,” You cut him off again, looking up. “Then we can move on.” You hoped he didn’t miss the pleading look in your eyes. Flushing the toilet, you made to rise from the floor. Lucien helped you to your feet, and continued to hold your hair as you took small sips of water from the sink’s tap. Removing his hand from your hair, you interlaced your fingers with his.

“I’m not cutting you out of my life, Lucien. You are very important to me. We are friends and can still support each other. I love being with you. We just need to be mindful of how the others see it.” You knew that space was needed. It was necessary, even as something inside you felt like it withered.

“Alright,” He relented, as you splashed your face with the cold water. “What are the boundaries?” He was leaving it to you to decide.

“We have to be the most careful while in the Night Court,” You started. “Physical contact in public should be reduced to linked arms when appropriate. Verbal greetings only. No more nights spent at the townhouse.” You tried to maintain eye contact with him and not let your eyes drift along the expanse of his still exposed body. As much as it scared you, you would have to brave being alone.

“You and I both know that you sleep better with someone next to you,” He reasoned. “If I can't be there then at least…at least have Ruhn with you. I’m certain he’ll be willing to step in wherever I can’t.”

“He can’t always stay with me,” You informed him. “He has a battle for his own world that he is trying to fight. What am I supposed to do when he’s in Midgard? It terrifies me to think what would have happened that night.” The fact that you nearly walked right off the roof of the townhouse was a chilling thought.

“Then let’s ask Helion for assistance,” Lucien supplied. “Ask him to speak with Thesan. He’s the High Lord of the Dawn Court, a healer in his own right. Surely, he will have knowledge about other sleep or dream preventing tonics.” He raised his hand and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“That could work,” You quickly turned away from his gentle touch. Something deep in you screamed as you walked away and out of the bathroom.

“What do we do when we’re alone?” You tried to stop your heart, but it’s pounding filled your ears. Naturally he followed you, but it was a long while before he said anything else. He slowly got dressed, as did you. Anything to keep yourself occupied while you tried to think.

You didn’t know what to say. If there was nothing between you now, then there shouldn’t be any need to change what you did when alone. Except, being alone with him may only continue to fan the flames of rumors. You needed to do what you could to keep each other in your lives, even if that meant you couldn't touch him in the ways you wanted. Why did this feel like a breakup?

“It’s probably best that we remain consistent,” You watched as sadness flashed across his features."At least for now."

“As you wish.”

Next- Chapter 10 (~ 7/12/24)

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#acotar x reader #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra x plus size reader #helion spell cleaver #bhinfic #lucien x you #azriel x reader #crescent city x reader #ruhn x reader #azriel x plus size reader #azriel x you #ruhn danaan x plus size reader #ruhn danaan x reader #ruhn x you

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berriblossom · 1 year

Text

Chapter 2| Pleasure over Power

Ayato x Male Reader

✄----------------------------------

For a long time, Ayato knew when not to get too involved or too committed to something. Relationships can and were temporary, friendships for the longest time were seen as politically motivated relationships and factors of his life and young career as the Yashiro Commissioner. Thoma and Ayaka were the only exceptions. However, he counted them more as family than as friends.

So when it comes to experiences and certain joys of life you can only have with a partner or friend is a foreign concept to him. Even in the department of lustful intimacy, Ayato would only in his dreams wish for such a fantasy to come true, nights where he'd have to resist the urge and irrefutable pleasure brimming in his abdomen, begging for him to just release all these inner desires. But did he?

Not until now.

"WhA~! Wait! S-Slow down a little [name]! Please!" You lapped his tip again, taking his cock fully into your mouth while slowly rubbing circles on his thighs. Ayato fully forgot himself and how much pride he had in himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started when you asked how he ended up in Ritou's red-light town, with the stare you had at him, the way your eyes crinkled mischievously, and how he was flustered. he innocently didn't know anything you were talking about, nor had any idea what he wanted.

"I just needed...I just needed to relax.. that's all. Nothing I wanted is whatever this all is..."

Ayato didn't even touch on the topic of how you recognized him if you spread rumors of him being here? What could happen? What about his position? His sister and Thoma? What would they think of him, what would the other commissioners think of him? Before Ayato could put a pin into those thoughts and his fears for his reputation, you cut him off.

"Do you think you are the first Inazuman official to come here? I mean, the Kanjou Commission is right next door. So what is there to fear dear Yashiro Commissioner?"

You smiled, your voice dripped like the finest honey found deep in the forest of Mondstat, your little chuckle at his small stutters and surprised face. You explained further. "I have seen many people secretly enter that house, and seen many secretly leave it too. Going back to their wives, husbands, children, and clans. Therefore this isn't the first time I've seen such a high official here. though you do give off a different type of desire. A more unknown and hidden one, no? Mr. Yashiro?"

You tilted your head towards him, your thumb still rubbing against his knuckles, they were laced with small knicks and scars from sword practice and training. Ayato remained silent, but the tension between the two of you grew deeper and deeper, the small clasp of waves against the rocks and the peer in Ritou was a pulling reminder of the time and place. Time felt slower here, no wonder people can get lost in it. And Ayato hasn't even done anything yet, not anything exciting for how this place ran.

But he didn't run, rather he just flipped his hand over slowly and shifted his palm to touch and align with yours. His fingers slightly dancing against your palm and wrist, almost as if he was scared you would make a sudden move. But you didn't, rather you just relaxed your hand and let him be a little gentle. It was cute, to say the least.

You huffed out a laugh as you saw his blush growing on the tips of his ears as you hummed and leaned forward a little. You gave him the same little kisses as before, this time they had a little more emotion to them.

"How about I take the lead this time Mr. Yashiro, relax, that's why you're here anyways right? Let me handle everything~."

You stood up and helped him off the beach near the peer back into the house. Now when he walked inside the house, the lights were dimmed. The bartender was gone, and hardly anyone was there. You guided him down the hall into an empty room, it had simple ocean-like wallpaper, a fluffy futon, blankets, and also a sliding closet from what Ayato gathered. No matter what or where he was, he would take in his surroundings first, but now, his surroundings didn't matter.

You helped him down onto the futon, despite him being a slight bit taller than most men, Ayato curled up close to you when you leaned down beside him and pressed kisses against his neck and chin. His hands gripped the sleeve of your plain yukata. Noticing his anxious behavior you kissed his temple and whispered.

"Why don't I just help you relax fully? I won't ask for anything in return, but just for me, for tonight...relax a little, my dear Commissioner. Okay? So relax for me, love."

Ayato hearing the small endearment of "love" made his heart pang but in a good way. He had never had anyone care for him so gently, even being pampered all his life he never had someone take the time to make him feel as loved as possible. No less a stranger he met like an hour ago. The small details of reality settled and crept into his mind as the situation developed more. But he didn't want to think of that. He wasn't the Yashiro Commissioner right now, he wasn't the charming, but unavailable man right now that every woman wanted for herself. Right now he was your sweet precious thing you were helping relax. yes, he was in your care, that's all.

Your hands slowly crept down, giving encouraging circles against his hips, then to the meat of his thighs. You glanced back at Ayato to make sure he was fully aware of what was going on and that he was okay with it. He nodded and bit down on his lower lip. 'Cute' you thought and you gave another kiss against the corner of his lips. The smile you had, he could feel as your mouth traveled down his chest. Your wet kisses against his neck, the open mouth kisses against his chest. Your thumbs press against his nipples and give them slight stimulation.

The soft moans and coos Ayato let out as he melted under your touch were so melodic to your ears. His dreamy eyes glanced down at you, begging for a little more stimulation, his hands helping support him while he leaned back, he was even trying to keep his head up too. He wanted you to see him, and make eye contact, seeing you give him pleasure was such a rich spike of pleasure to him. You kissed down his stomach until you were between his thighs.

Completely laying back, Ayato let you rest his legs against your strong chest. From this point of view, Ayato could see your chest poking out of the small window in your yukata. Your cock was slightly outlined, in the cloth. Ayato felt his eyes continuously drift back to it, he could feel you slightly pressing into him, messing with him. But as you reminded him and teased him.

"Right now isn't about me remember Mr. Yashiro? I just want to help you relax." You gave a small bite to his thigh, that was going to bruise a little later. You missed the small mark, kissing down his thigh you reached the center. Pushing his silk-like cloth away from his mid-section, you kissed the outline of his cock, he was already hard. It was so entertaining to see him jerk at the simple movements. How his voice was wavering from trying to maintain his voice to trying to beg you to do more, please touch him a little more.

Frankly, you were surprised he didn't cum already, he was dripping in precum. Evenly soaking the cloth trapping his cock, you slipped him out of it. His cock slapped against his abdomen with a small "smack" sound. The exposed air to his cock head sends chills down Ayato's spine.

You kissed his tip, pressing it flat on your tongue. Ayato moaned and gripped the bedding so hard, that his knuckles were turning white from the tension, and his flustered expression had changed to pure lust and need. He needed you to touch him, please just let him experience this. He had been waiting so long and patiently. Just please.

Kamisato Ayato was taught never to beg from anyone or for anything. He should demand what he wants or ask in a polite but firm tone. However with how much control over the situation you had over him, over his body. "Please...[Name]...please just please more...please just...touch me more...let me..please..." His soft whimpers and pleas were so quiet it was almost as if a ghost said them. But you heard them, you smiled against his thigh.

"The cute commissioner begging for his release? I guess as his lover for tonight I can't go against his will can I?" You kissed along his shaft pressing your tongue against his tips, rolling your tongue around his tip while you slowly pump the rest of his cock.

Ayato bucked into your mouth a little, moving his hand to hold your head, not gripping your hair, but just gently holding the side of your head. It was so cute how he didn't want to make you choke or make you uncomfortable. Such a gentleman you thought.

But even gentleman crumble, you sped up your pace a little, bobbing your head and pumping his shaft and a little faster. You pulled back a little, moving your hands to his thighs and just taking him fully in your mouth and throat. The warmth and tightness of your throat made Ayato cry out in pleasure., he pressed his hand against your head, trying to gently as he remembered to push it down to push his cock deeper in your throat.

"WhA~! Wait! S-Slow down a little [name]! Please!" You swirled your tongue around his tip again, taking his cock fully into your mouth while slowly rubbing circles on his thighs. Ayato fully forgot himself and how much pride he had in himself. He was so close, so fucking close that you could see how badly he wanted this. Normally you'd tease someone when they were at this point, but cute Yashiro Commissioneer needed his relaxation so you let it happen this one time.

Pushing him deeper into your throat, your throat contracting and fighting around his size, which wasn't just above average to say. You started caressing his balls a little to help the climax come a little closer, Ayato was at this point fucking your throat, chasing his high. It felt so good, so mind-numbing it was unbelievable.

Finally, he let out a loud cry and leaned forward, pressing you against his abdomen and cumming down your throat. You gagged against his sudden movement but held onto his thighs to ground yourself. You exhaled through your nose as you swallowed all his cum, groaning against him as how much of him flooded into your senses. Ayato feeling the vibrations of your throat from your voice sent his aftershocks into overstimulations. His body jerked when you pulled off of him and gave his tip a small kiss. Ayato fell back into the bedding, his chest heaving. You rubbed his thigh, kissing his temple.

"You did so well, do you feel much more relaxed now Mr. Yashiro? Hmm, tell me, sweetheart?" Ayato leaned into your touch, he could still hear the waves crash against the shore outside the window.

"Yes....I feel...much more relaxed..."

Tags: @kiiyoooo , @cassidycampfire , @avatsufaust

Sorry for the late update! I had college work and moving things! Thanks for reading this chapter!

#xoxokuki💜#xokuki blog #kuki's writing #xokuki writes #xoxo💜#ayato smut #ayato x male reader #ayato x you #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact ayato #genshin impact #this is so late my bad everyone

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

Note

You hit the nail on the head! I‘ll ask for more professional assessment: honest opinion on Crystal?

Following on from my ramblings about Sally Park. Oops! Edited to add in Zoe too.

Well written female characters in Lookism? Uhh...

When the bar is at an all time low, it's really not hard to step over it.

At this point, I've been pavloved to think that any female character that expresses a personality trait other than 'simp' is pretty good. Simp is fun when it's part of a list of characteristics (Zack, Ryuhei). Not so much when it's the only thing.

Long live PTJ, the greatest feminist. Anyway.

Female characters I like

Mary Kim

Love her. Empress of 2 seconds. Queen of my heart.

Surprisingly kept a platonic relationship with Vin Jin, showing quite a healthy mixed gender friendship. Sassy and smart. Loyal. Good taste in men (Jace). Is shown having a life and interests outside of a man.

On my hands and knees praying that PTJ doesn't ruin her. Kinda glad she hasn't appeared in a while so she is kept away from his incessant need to turn everyone into a love interest.

Lua Im

Once we got over the odd Johan panels, which I heard the Korean audience didn't like and I'm quite happy about, she's fine. And it's not that I care that much about Johan staying a single dog-dad, I just needed a coherent reasoning/build up why they would be interested in one another.

Lua has potential.

Sourcing intel, even impressing the likes of Gun? A little Muay Thai knowledge? Jake and Jerry scared of her? Lol. Ok. Good. Let's build on this.

Just please don't white knight her.

Crystal Choi (meh)

And Ms. Choi, because anon specifically asked. I really don't mind her? I know she's meant to be anti-Lookism but still judges people based on their looks eh. That's fine. Pretty realistic actually. Whatever.

She can be a bit bitchy for no reason. So can I. Handwaving all that.

What I do take issue with though, is her so called title of Business Genius. Please show me the chapter where she actually does something to earn that title besides the one where other people ooh-ed and aah-ed over her in the meeting with DG.

Wow she's sooooo gorgeous. Ok good for her. If that's the route they're taking her character then at least OWN. THAT. SHIT. Use her beauty and looks to sign deals and get what she wants. GOOD. DO IT.

Zoe Park (also meh... Wait)

Sorry anon, I think 'really well written' is a bit of a reach... She does have some decent character development, starting as quite a flighty, shallow girl and then showing that she has a heart of gold, liking both Daniels and. Huh.

Wait. You're right. She is pretty well written. She's selfless and kind and loyal to her friends, putting up with Logan's bullshit. There's enough of a character arc for her from the Zoe we're introduced to at first.

And I do like that she's good at maths too.

Wasted potential

Minseong Kang (Jake's momma)

Appreciate this is the older generation and from a much more conservative culture. Saying that, I am so over the slighted and bitter housewife rotting at home while her big powerful husband cheats on her.

And then some sort of marriage redemption cos they pop out a kid. Whatever. (Sorry Jake bb, I love you).

If you were going to do that, give me the most toxic red flag shit where they are constantly at each other's THROATS. Show me how they are equals. Can't live with or without one another. That's the good kinda shit.

Leonn Lee

I just. What the fuck was this.

A girl in Burn Knuckles? A group that reeks of testerone and (positive) masculinity? Show us why she joined! Show us why she stays. SURPRISE. Main character trait?? Having a crush on Vasco.

She could have been SO interesting. And she obviously trains, why not get her to fight?

Hate for irrational reasons

Joy Hong

Listen, she's not really in enough or significant enough for me to really feel one way or another about her. BUT. The reason I HATE her is because I was trying to write a headcanon involving everyone and then I got to Joy and I was STUMPED.

Sub in a plank of wood, and it would have the same depth of personality.

Truly. Who is she apart from Jay's sister and a Daniel simp? At least everyone else has something.

Others

I don't really think about them. Sera Shin has potential I guess.

And of course a special mention to Daniel's momma. She's not exactly a unique character, but who doesn't love her?

LET. THEM. FIGHT.

Lastly. Why can't we see women fight? Like the men's fights are realistic LOL. Ultra instinct? Smashing through walls? So why are women fighting men outside the realms of this.

And yes yes. Men are SoOoOoOo strong. But can they take a kick to the balls?

Are you saying Gun Park has been training his dick and balls and would be able to eat a hit there? He wouldn't go down like a heap of shit??

HUH. TELL ME THAT.

In Summary

Mary by and large is pretty well written. Lua has improved.

I don't care much about anyone else.

And I wanna see Gun, Goo, Sammy, Vin etc. get kicked in the balls in a fight.

#is this my most disjointed rambling yet? quite possibly #if you made it to the end you sincerely deserve a medal #sorry if i've completely forgotten about any female character development loooool my bad #and sorry every time I refer to the women as females it makes me feel incel-y #lookism #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #lua im #mary kim #crystal choi #leonn lee #minseong kang #joy hong #wannaeatramyeon

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ravenbloodshot · 1 year

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Would Nct 127 members seriously date a foreigner .....

Johnny- Yes. He would want a foreigner that's very hot and likely a celebrity (Beyonce and Normani vibes). It's like someone with a sexy body and powerful image/personality that could make them a perfect power couple. Johnny is generally an open minded guy that likes to have fun so he wouldn't see dating a foreigner as a big deal

Haechan- No. Due to him wanting to please his family and marry/date a korean he wouldn't seriously be with a foreigner. He doesn't mind friendship with them but theirs no longevity in his eyes. (Although I think he could benefit greatly dating someone foreign, an impactful relationship would happen to him if he ever gave it a chance)

Mark- Yes and no. He has dated a foreigner in the past but rn he's not actively seeking out a partner (foreign or not) so its like he's open to it but he won't chase anybody, he'll let someone come to him. And if it works out, it works out. If it doesn't, it doesn't.

Jaehyun- Definitely, he would and has. He may prefer to be with foreigners, liking the way he feels and is treated. He could be a bit overwhelming though, being too forward and aggressive more so then he would if he was dating a korean (but I think that's why he enjoys dating foreigners, he can be himself). He's probably the most likely out of the group to settle down and marry a foreigner

Taeyong- Yes. He has a very realistic and healthy view of dating outside of his country. He would be with a person thats healthy for him and bring joy into his life, no matter their race/background. He also likes how aggressive and forward foreign women can be so that's a plus for him

Yuta- No. He has some prejudice views of foreigners and he is conservative when it comes down who he would seriously date. A one night stand? Gladly, he will partake with a foreigner but when he's done, he's on to the next.

Taeil- Maybe. But, he has a unrealistic view of foreigners, thinking their some outer-world beings completely different from him and out of his league. There's some fetishization here as well. He wouldn't stop to think of foreigners as real ppl he could actually date so it wouldn't work out even if someone approached him first.

Jungwoo- Yes. Similar to Taeils situation but a little more grounded. There's some glamorization of foreigners like viewing them as celebrities (maybe he only really gets the chance to talk to foreigners that are celebrities). But he could think their out if his league and be very surprised if he found out a foreigner was into him or asked him out. The bad thing is he wouldn't actively go after a foreigner. The good thing is if a foreigner went after him, they have 99.9% success rate of getting with him. Also, if he meets foreigners while on vacation without a doubt the person could have him wrapped around their finger as long as they go after him

Doyoung- Yes. Similar to Jungwoo but more self depreciating. He wouldn't ever even imagine a foreigner would want him and he could even sabotage romantic situations, not thinking he's good enough. Like with Jungwoo, if a foreigner went after him (slowly but aggressively) she could get with him. But the person can't be too sudden and forward or he would get scared and run

Ranking for most to least likey:

Jaehyun

Johnny

Taeyong

Jungwoo

Mark

Doyoung

Taeil

Haechan

Yuta

#kpop readings #kpop #kpop tarot #nct 127 #doyoung #nct doyoung #nct taeil #nct jaehyun #nct tarot #nct taeyong #nct jungwoo #nct yuta #nct mark #nct johnny #nct haechan

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nyssaswitch · 9 months

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Pool Party with the Barca Boys

Chapter 2

Héctor’s POV

As soon as Héctor heard that Gavi was throwing a pool party - to which his sister would be attending - he’d RSVP’d at the speed of lightning.

Ever since he’d first laid eyes on Y/N, he was infatuated with her.

He could still recall the day that he first saw her, when she was visiting Gavi during training.

He remembered her striking features and long black hair.

At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to leave the pitch, walk up to the stands and introduce himself to you.

He kept sneaking glances at you every now and then, hoping that none of his teammates would take notice.

After staring at you stealthily for the umpteenth time, your eyes finally met and Y/N gave you a mischievous grin.

He couldn’t believe it, not only had he found his future wife, but she’d shown interest in him!

He hoped that practice would be over as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, Y/N’s presence hadn’t gone unnoticed amongst the boys, who’d started murmuring about the girl, that was sitting in the stands.

“Woah check out that girl over there”, said Frenkie.

“There’s a girl?” asked Pedri.

“Yeah, she’s sitting in the bleachers” said João Cancelo.

“She’s hot”, remarked Áron.

“Who is she?”, I tried to ask casually.

That, is my sister you’re all lusting after, said Gavi.

“I didn’t know you had a sister”, said Frenkie.

“And a pretty one at that”, said Marc.

“Why haven’t you introduced us to her before?”, asked João.

“Because I knew, you lot wouldn’t be able to keep it in your pants”, said Gavi.

“Please just give me one, chance, Gavi, I’ll do anything”, pleaded Marc.

“Hey, who said that she’s yours?”, asked Áron.

“Yeah”, said Pedri.

“She’s not allowed near any one of you”, said Gavi.

“We”ll see about that”, said Frenkie with a chuckle.

The pool party provided Héctor with an opportunity to finally get to talk to Y/N.

But he was anxious, knowing that the other guys would be trying to make a move on Y/N as well.

When he’d handed Y/N the platter with snacks on them, his hand had briefly grazed her. He’d touched her ever so slightly and that was enough to make electricity flow through his body.

He was trying to muster up the courage to talk to her, but even being in her vicinity made him so nervous, that he couldn’t function properly.

How was he to over make a move, if he was scared of talking to Y/N?

The guys had started to play football, using the pool as a goal.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Y/N sitting on a beach bed, watching the chaos unfold.

It was obvious that the guys were showing off and trying to impress Y/N, by shooting the ball at full speed and by being rowdy.

If Y/N hadn’t been there, everyone’d have quietly and concentratedly tried to make a goal.

Every now and then one of the boys would look over at Y/N and steal a glance.

She was a sight to behold, wearing one of the skimpiest bikinis that he’d ever seen, but he wasn’t complaining about it.

The way the bikini barely covered up Y/N’s private bits, making her boobs look nice and plump and the bikini bottom showing her bare ass.

Héctor had liked to thank, whoever had designed the bikini. Even if he’d never get to be with Y/N, at least he’d seen her in this bikini.

Oh, he’d definitely be thinking about this, when he got back home.

Áron’s voice snapped him out of his pondering.

“Let’s make this more interesting, the first one to score will get 7 minutes in heaven with Y/N, if Y/N is up for it, that is”.

He hoped that Y/N would agree.

Dear Lord, please make her cave, he prayed.

To everyone’s surprise, Y/N agreed.

Why’d she agree to this, he thought to himself. What is she up to?

After an eternity, Marc was the one who’d scored a goal, howling in joy and looking smugly at the rest of the guys.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, how could he let someone else get between him and Y/N?

And weren’t he and Marc supposed to be friends? So much for friendship.

Everyone had stopped playing football once Y/N and Marc had left for the bedroom.

Everyone’s spirits seemed to have dampened.

“Well that’s a bummer” said Pedri.

“Tell me about it” said João.

“He’s a lucky man” said Frenkie.

I gulped and felt a knot forming at the pit of my stomach. I wanted her so bad, my body was screaming out for her touch.

The next seven minutes were pure agony for Héctor.

He was plagued by a burning curiosity, wanting to know everything that was happening in that bedroom, while wanting to know as little as possible about the rendezvous simultaneously.

God, it was driving him crazy, weren’t the seven minutes over by now?

Did she like Marc? Or any of the other guys at the party? Did he even stand a chance?

After what seemed like forever, Marc stalked out of the room, looking glum.

A sliver of hope ignited in my belly, maybe I had a chance after all.

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my-rose-tinted-glasses · 10 months

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Friday Ramblings

I don't normally do this but I have a couple of thoughts going on in my head regarding the last couple of days week in BL that I just wanted to collect them all instead of just doing it in tags.

Shadow

I'm pissed. I am a big fan of anything horror or supernatural themed stuff so I was really looking forward to this. (Don't even get me started of how disappointed I am at the disappearance of the other horror themed show I could be watching) And the first part did not disappoint. It was a strong first half, good set up of the different story lines and all the players and I was really excited about it. There was such good meta written about the show, and it turned out to be superior to what the show eventually gave us. (@wen-kexing-apologist specially gave us such excellent meta on this show that I wish they were in charge of the second half of this show) I agree with @lurkingshan about everything they said here. Something which I thought was interesting was that I think in this second half the show purposefully made the fake arm really obvious. I don't know if it wanted us to know before Dan but I also don't think it was an accident. But I'm also not gonna theorize about the reasons because I really don't care that much. The "BL" bait was just another thing that pissed me off. I'm not upset it's not BL, I'm upset because it was sold as such and no one will convince me otherwise. For a couple of episodes, at least, the show wanted us to think that Dan was falling for Nai. The prom moment was just fucking ridiculous. The parallels with October 6 could've been really interesting if there wasn't so much going on that it kinda took the weight of it away. One of the questions I like to ask myself when watching any media is - what is it trying to tell? Sometimes nothing and that's fine. It's pure escapism and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. It can still be excellent. And sometimes it tries to say too much that it ends up not having a cohesive message and it all falls flat. Religion, communism, family trauma, homophobia, mental health, infidelity, teacher-student relationship, pregnancy, murder, police brutality, friendship, bullying, the oh so many supernatural elements, I could go on. You get the picture. So in conclusion, I am not happy.

VIP Only

It's cute. I like both of them enough and it's a good mellow way to start the friday madness.

Last Twilight

This show is surprising me so much. In the best ways. As I said before this pair didn't do much for me in the past but I've surrendered completely, specially to Jimmy. He was so good in this episode that I felt obligated to gif it just so I could keep watching his expressions.

That whole final scene just floored me. His eyes just carried that moment and that whole scene so well that by the end a lonely sunflower brought tears to my eyes. ( and I do not cry easy). After all the cute dates, this scene was a gut punch.

I'm just really stuck on this show, and it holds my attention all through the episode.

My Dear Gangster Oppa

This episode was silly, I couldn't care less about the gangster side of the story at the moment, I'd rather spend more time with the gamer friend group. Wahl got a bit of a redemption but I still don't like him. I liked that Guy stood his ground with Wahl and Tew, but hated the stalker behaviour. If you wanna go dude, just leave!

Sahara Sensei to Toki-kun

Japan my beloved. They just keep giving me all I need. Toki is giving me some Aoki vibes and I could not be happier. And Toki now has got two friends in his corner and I'm so happy. This one and Kinou Nani Tabeta are currently my main sources of joy and my heart is full.

Pit Babe I'd like to thank @pharawee for giving us the novel commentary because it makes it a bit less confusing while I watch this. I have no clue about omegaverse so a part of me is confused, sometimes bored, another part of me is just waiting for Jeff and Alan to be a thing and all of me is happy that Pavel is on my screen weekly.

Twins

This show is dragging and I'm officially bored. I don't mind a slow burn if the rest of the show can hold it together. But the team animosity is just tiring and annoying at this point, the side couples are not engaging ( a bj in the shower does not a side couple make) and for a show named Twins, I would like to see more of them.

Middleman's Love

I'm 99% here for the sides. They are cute, they give me some Ram/King vibes and I wanna see more of them. I was super happy to see Ngern again and the family dinner was a good moment. I don't have the patience for this sort of misunderstanding anymore so that ending annoyed the hell out of me.

(I'm watching For Him too but I have nothing nice to say, so I'll say nothing at all. And yes I know I just did that with Shadow but I was never that invested in this one)

Really looking forward to Kinou Nani Tabeta tomorrow morning and The Sign in the afternoon.

I wish all a great weekend and thanks for reading💜

(because I needed a good cry)

#rose rambles #last twilight #shadow the series #twins the series #bl series #thai bl #pit babe #sahara sensei to toki kun #my dear gangster oppa #middleman's love

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callsignspark · 9 months

Text

Mar[r]y Me - part 8.5.2

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, discussions of body image, conversations on what it’s like to be a fat woman trying to date in today’s society, extreme fluff, like soooo much flirting, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 3.6k

previous part | series masterlist | main masterlist

note: happy Friday! I hope everyone had lovely holidays and 2024 is going well for you so far! I did have some issues tagging people so apologizes if you didn't notified! I really loved writing this chapter, especially since it's going to help set the stage for the rest of the story! (only 4 more parts to go! isn't that crazy??) please be safe if you have snow coming towards you this weekend, and enjoy these two pining and yearning for each other more than ever.

part 8.5.2 - rambling and rings

Friday, April 16, 2021

Mary waves at the obnoxiously large SUV as Slider honks and drives away. Leaning against the entryway table, she slips her heels off and wiggles her painted toes at the feeling of the soft runner beneath her feet. Shuffling over to the entertainment console, she hums as she connects her phone, choosing the song that was on in the car.

The dreamy guitar intro floats through the air, making her smile. And the last beams of golden sunshine disappear as she dances through the living room, enjoying the peaceful feeling that’s settled in her chest and closing the blinds in between twirls.

Good things are happening at work, rumbles that there’s a promotion coming on the horizon. The monthly call back home to her parents hadn’t ended in tears for the first time in months. Most of her evenings are spent in the company of at least one Dagger family member, helping Kris and Dani with their kids or enjoying the adult-only life with Aaron and Flora. Bradley is messaging her as often as he can, every email making her heart flutter, increasing her joy with every sentence he types.

Everything is coming together in ways she had never even dared to dream about.

An early dinner with Ron, Mav, and Penny was the cherry on top of a great week. The four of them laughing and telling stories the entire time, taking advantage of the warm spring weather at the patio table Pete had reserved for Slider’s birthday. As stories and photos were traded across the table, Mary felt like her heart could burst learning about baby Bradley. The only quiet moment of the evening was when their waiter brought an unordered round of drinks to the table, prompting the men to venture inside and thank the old Navy buddy that had spotted them through the window.

“Thank you, Matt; it was getting just a tiny bit too windy for us.”

“No problem, ma’am.” The young man smiles over his shoulder as he finishes turning the outdoor heater on. “Can I get you ladies anything else?”

“I think we’re good for now, thank you,” Penny answers, glancing at Mary, softening at the sight of the younger woman lost in thought as she stares out at the ocean with a content smile.

She watches as brown eyes drift from the water to the table, gentle fingers tracing over a copy of a photo that’s older than the girl studying it. Penny stays quiet, letting the sound of waves crashing on the sand accompany the slight furrow that creases Mary’s brow as she brings the photo closer to her face.

“He looks just like his dad, doesn’t he?”

“He does; he acts a lot like him, too, more than he realizes.”

“You knew him?” It’s not a surprised reaction, just curious.

Penny hums, “We weren’t close, but I knew him enough to see how much Bradley has turned out like him. He’s a good blend of both his parents.”

“Did you know Carole very well?”

“More than Nick, by default, but for the most part, we were at different stages in life. She was older than me by a few years. I was in college and she was a widow raising a toddler. But, as you know, the aviator community is pretty small, so we were friendly. I would even babysit Bradley sometimes when the guys were deployed.”

“He was a cute baby,” Mary says softly, eyes back on the last photo taken of the whole Bradshaw family.

“He was… turned out to be a handsome man, didn’t he?” Penny asks, taking advantage of the moment.

She smirks as the younger woman looks up at her through her lashes, a shy smile stretching her pink cheeks. “He did.”

“Can I ask you something while they’re still inside?”

“We’re not together. But we are going on a date the week after he gets back.” Now it’s Mary’s turn to smirk at how Penny’s eyebrows rocket up to her hairline. “That is what you were going to ask me, right?”

“It’s close enough. Are you excited?”

“I am. I really like him.”

It’s the first time she admitted it out loud to anyone other than her best friend. She revels in the encouraging energy and words Penny gives back, both of them still giggling like school girls when Pete and Ron return.

“What are you two laughing about?” Slider asks as he slips Mary’s wrap over her shoulders.

“Oh, nothing.” When Penny winks, she has the overwhelming urge to cry. The knowing look accompanying those two words is more affectionate and maternal than anything her mother has done in years.

Their hug goodbye lasts a few seconds longer than expected, and the gentle hands that smooth some stray hairs back make her throat tighten. Slider is quiet on the ride home; familiar with the many moods of Mary, he lets her work through her thoughts with the radio on low.

“Y’okay, kid?” He doesn’t speak until he pulls into her neighborhood, giving himself a five-block buffer to determine if a pit stop to the closest ice cream shop is required.

“Yeah. Just-” Mary pauses, trying to figure out how to best explain. “Just still getting used to it.”

“To what?”

“To how easy it is to just be me out here. Surrounded by people who have just folded me into their lives with zero hesitation, like I’ve always been here.”

“Mary, were you happy in Florida?”

“I was content. Getting to know you helped with that a lot, but let’s face it; if I was happy, I wouldn’t have been so excited to leave.”

“And you’re happy now?”

“I am. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.”

It's a cheesy line, but true. She knew that when she said it, accepting the light teasing that followed with a smile. One that hadn’t left her face as she said goodbye to her mentor, one that grows as the song starts again. She can’t help how big her grin gets. This song always reminds her of Bradley.

“I'm in love, I'm alive. I belong to the stars and sky.”

Letting the song stay on repeat, Mary stops in the kitchen for some water on her way to the bedroom. It’s still early - not even eight yet - but a full night’s sleep is calling her name, eyelids feeling heavy.

She slips her clothes off, folding the jeans for tomorrow and tossing her shirt in the laundry. A small groan of relief accompanies the unclasping of her bra before she slings it into the hamper. Turning the bedroom speakers down slightly as she enters the bathroom, a grimace instantly creases her face when she catches sight of herself in the mirror.

“Jesus…” Her disbelief echoes in the room as gentle fingers rub over the harsh red lines where her clothes dug into her skin. It’s evident where the waistband of her jeans sat all day. And the tender spots under her arms lets her know it’s time to look for better-fitting bras, again. Mary tugs the leg of her panties up, relieved to see at least one piece of clothing hasn’t left its mark.

She’s massaging the sore spots on her chest, letting her warm hands diminish the pain, when her phone rings. Her eyebrows furrow deeper at the unknown number flashing across the screen.

Usually, at this time of night, she’d ignore an unknown number and let the other person leave a voicemail, but something in her gut tells her to pick up before it’s too late.

“Hello?” There’s a muffled response, and she scrambles to disconnect her phone from the speakers. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Hello, ma’am. Can I speak to Mariella Vertucci?”

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“This is Lieutenant Corso in the communications bay on the USS Roosevelt. Can you confirm your identity with your full name, birthday, and the eight-digit code given to you by Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?”

Mary’s heart stops for a second. This is it. Bradley is calling. She’s going to get to talk to him after forty-eight days. Hear his voice. See his face.

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry. Mariella Theresa Vertucci, born March 14, 1987. The code is 0125-2020.”

“Thank you, ma’am. One minute, please.” The soft clacking of a keyboard filters through the phone, the Lieutenant's tongue clicking as he types. “You’ve been verified. Does the phone you’re using have video chat capabilities.”

“It does, Lieutenant.”

“Excellent. Stay on the line, and in a few minutes, a video chat will come through with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. You have been allotted 30 minutes today. I am required to remind you that communication is not secure. This means, for security purposes, you cannot ask what time of day it is, what location, or how any missions have gone. Please confirm that you understand.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you. I am also required to let you know that this video chat is conducted in a private area and will not be monitored. However, the audio will be recorded, so any lewd acts are discouraged but not forbidden.”

Mary can’t help the snort that escapes. “But not forbidden?”

“Uh- the uh-” She smothers a chuckle at how the kid trips over his words. “The Navy understands that loved ones are apart for long periods of time and can’t forbid any uh- urges that couples may wish to act upon during their chats. But we are legally required to inform everyone of the recording.”

“Ah, I see. Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“No problem, ma’am. Please stay on the line, and your loved one will be joining shortly.” She giggles at how quickly the hold music starts, humming along to Anchors Aweigh as she clips her hair up, ready to take her makeup off. She’s about to wet a washcloth when the music cuts, and the video call comes through.

Taking a second to look herself over, Mary admires the tendrils that have escaped, perfectly framing her cheeks that are still flushed from the wine she had with dinner. The slightest bit still tipsy and a little frazzled about Bradley, she realizes just in time that she’s still only in her underwear, hitting the accept button and dropping the phone on the counter.

“One second! Just- oh, come on! Fuck!” She curses under her breath as she struggles to slip into her bathrobe. “Hang on, Bradley!”

Finally getting both arms in, she ties the robe, eyebrows raising in surprise at how it cinches her waist, before eagerly grabbing her phone.

“Hi, Mary.”

“Hi, Bradley.”

She greedily drinks him in. It’s been 48 days since she’s seen his handsome face or heard his warm voice - the longest since they met - and she’s missed him. Her heart clenches at how tired he looks, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than ever.

“Hi, honey.” The sweet name hits something deep inside, and she can’t help the tears that immediately form or the way her bottom lip wobbles. “Oh, shit, Mary. Please don’t cry, honey.”

The emotional reaction surprises even her; she was expecting to be a bit overwhelmed, but nothing like this. It makes her feel a little ridiculous, crying about a man she’s barely even kissed. But you love him, her brain chimes in, sending more heat to her face.

“This is your uncle’s fault!” She laughs, swiping tears away and propping her phone against the mirror.

“Mav?”

She can’t help but giggle at his disbelieving tone as she reaches for a tissue. “No, Slider. He’s in town this week, and he may or may not - but definitely did - get me tipsy at dinner, like he always does!”

She trills on about dinner, telling him about the childhood stories that were shared and the baby photos that now live on her phone, not noticing the look on his face until he interrupts.

“You getting in the shower, Mary?”

The husky tone immediately grabs all of her attention, a shiver running down her spine at the smoldering look on Bradley’s face. She follows his eyes down, surprised to see how much her robe has come undone. The valley between her breasts is completely visible, and the fabric is threatening to expose her belly button - and more - if it’s not fixed.

“Oops…” She mumbles to herself, tightening the robe so much it pushes her cleavage together.

Normally, this is where her insecurities would ruin the moment - flooding her brain with terrible things. Make her spend the rest of the call analyzing how she looks in the tiny corner box, agonizing how prominent her double chin is from this angle. But the soft fuck that crackles through the phone squashes the anxieties before they can take root, shifting her attention to admire the man looking back at her.

And god, he is a man.

Bradley Bradshaw has always been gorgeous: tall, strong, and deliciously tan. But mid-deployment Bradley Bradshaw is a vicious attack to the senses. And the hormones.

His broad shoulders have gotten broader, filling the little privacy cubicle in the communications room so much that he’s brushing both sides of the walls. His curls are more golden than usual, clear evidence of time spent flying in the Pacific tropics. His tan is deeper, too, glowing even in the harsh florescent lighting, the bridge of his nose slightly sunburnt. His neatly trimmed mustache moves with his lush pink lips, warmth building in her core as her thoughts drift to the memory of how they felt pressed against hers.

“Mary?” She hums, eyes focusing back into the present and away from her favorite post-deployment reunion fantasy. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“You.”

It's clear he wasn’t expecting that answer from the way he drags a hand over his mouth to muffle a cruse, his eyes scrunching shut.

She wasn’t expecting it either; the effects of the wine have mostly worn off, leaving her with flushed cheeks and apparently a slightly looser tongue. She can’t bring herself to be embarrassed about the overly honest answer. Communicating exclusively via email for the last month and a half has allowed Mary to gain confidence in Bradley’s feelings. It’s hard to wonder about his intentions when every email ends with him telling her how many days are left until he’s home.

“Your lips…” She continues, emboldened as the last remnants of wine soften the sharp edges of her insecurities and the pink working its way up his neck. She loves how easily Bradley blushes for her. Their few kisses have always ended with his cheeks a lovely, rosy shade. “How soft your hair is. Your mustache. How strong you are. How much I miss you…”

The words make them both pause. It’s not an uncommon phrase, every email containing some variation of the sentiment, but hearing the words out loud makes it real. Cementing the longing in their chests.

“I miss you, too.” The words are quiet, echoing against the tiled walls. She chuckles, throat thick with emotion, and Bradley can’t look away from her soft smile. His heart pounding at the emotion on her face, something he can’t quite place. He can’t stop staring as she picks the phone up and flicks the light off, “Where are we going?”

“Couch.”

He smiles as the familiar walls of her living room appear, grin going slack when she props him up on the side table, and the slit of her robe reveals a thigh that he’s dreamt about as she shuffles pillows. Bradley manages to pull his mind out of his post-deployment fantasy as she plops on her couch - that damn pink couch - and smiles at him over the arm, her eyes almost closing she grins so hard.

“I’m sorry I missed our call.”

“It’s okay, Bradley. I knew it was a possibility, and Mav let me know what was going on. I understand.”

“I want to hear about your birthday.”

“I told you about my birthday! We’ve discussed it extensively.”

“I still want to hear about it. I want to hear your voice.” He revels as she softly whines and smooshes her face into a pillow, thrilled to cause that reaction. “C’mon, please, Mary?”

“You’re not fighting fair.” The muffled complaint comes back, making him laugh, but she does as asked.

Bradley listens, humming along as she recounts her birthday for him and insisting for the hundredth time that it was his pleasure to give her presents. He lets her lead the conversation as it shifts to what’s happening in San Diego, content to watch her as she shares stories of what he’s missing at home. Happy to just admire her and occasionally ask questions.

It’s so easy to get lost looking at her. Dark hair swishing around her shoulders, just slightly shorter than it was in February. Her brown eyes look darker than usual, the low light in the room making them almost black instead of the warm brown he’s used to staring into. And despite resecuring the robe, it’s coming loose again, enough that the top curve of her breasts are visible; freckles dotted all over, disappearing beneath the baby blue fabric. Bradley thinks about what it would be like to connect the dots on her soft skin, tracing invisible lines with his fingers or lips. He imagines there’s more hiding behind the waffle material. He wonders if she’d let him find out.

The fantasy of how wonderful it would be to memorize every mark on her body is interrupted as red nail polish grabs his attention. He loves her hands, smaller than his but so strong when she’s working on a jet. Steady as she calls out instructions to her team, grease smeared up to her elbows and her nail color of the week shining through the black sludge. Mary insists that she doesn’t talk with her hands, that she managed to avoid that stereotypical Italian-American trait, but Bradley smirks as her hands swirl through the air. He’s about to interrupt the story she’s giggling through - something about the latest swear word that Danielle accidentally taught Annie - when something sparkly on her finger distracts him.

A ring.

A diamond ring.

A simple silver band lined with tiny diamonds.

On her ring finger.

On her left ring finger.

His eyebrows furrow as he tries to study the never-before-seen piece of jewelry. Mary must notice his confusion because she cuts her story off and flashes her hand at the camera. “I bought this for myself when I got promoted for the first time. I went from EI to EII, which is entry-level engineer to associate engineer. It was $50 from this little shop that was on the same block as my first solo apartment in St. Louis.”

Relief sweeps through his body, thrilled that Mary hadn’t gotten engaged with him.

“That’s awesome. Have you done that every time you’ve moved up?”

“Kinda? I always buy myself some sort of gift - last time, I splurged and got that big blender we used at the Christmas party. But I’ve only done jewelry a few times. I think I’m going to get a necklace next time, something to match this.” She explains, wiggling her fingers so the gems shimmer in the camera.

“It’s very pretty.” Bradley compliments, feeling bold enough to go further. “You look good with a ring on that finger.”

“Jesus, Brad-”

She’s cut off by the two-minute alert popping up. They had been so distracted they weren’t paying attention to the countdown timer.

“Already?” Mary pouts, forehead crinkling as she frowns. “But I didn’t get to ask you about carrier food.

“It’s bad, honey. Yours is so much better.”

“Or how you’re sleeping.”

“Reuben’s snoring has somehow gotten even louder since last time we shared a bunkroom; Bob, Mickey, and I owe you for the extra earplugs you sent.”

“You’re sunburnt.”

“I’m wearing the sunscreen you gave me; the sun is just strong.”

“I knew I should have sent the SPF 75!” Bradley smiles as Mary throws her head back in faux despair. “Oh well, now I know for next time, I guess.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah. You didn’t think I’d only send you a care package one time, did you? I gotta make sure you have everything you need. I know I missed some stuff this time, but I’ll get better in the future! I promise.”

I love you.

He just barely holds the words in.

“God, I fucking miss you.” He stares at the screen, watching the prettiest brown eyes in the world fill with tears at his words. “Oh, honey, please don’t cry. I’ll be home so soon.”

“But twenty-four days is such a long time, and I miss you so much.”

“I know, but we’ve already done 48 days. Twenty-four will be a breeze to get through.” The timer starts blinking, the last 60 seconds counting down. “I gotta get going, Mary. But you keep sending me flirty emails so I have something to read and think about.”

He chuckles at the little surprised noise she makes. “You noticed that?”

“Did I notice that? Mariella, in the kindest way, you are not subtle.”

“Well- I-” She splutters. “Neither are you!”

“I’m not trying to be, baby doll,” Bradley revels in her reaction to the pet name - mouth dropping open as she blinks at him, cheeks pinker than he’s ever seen - one he didn’t even mean to use.

The flustered hand she waves at the camera while yelling at him makes him laugh. “Bradley!”

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Be safe. Only 24 days.”

“Only 24 days.”

“I miss you, handsome.”

Bradley's face feels hot, choked up at the look in her eyes, the softness of her words. “I miss you, too, baby doll.”

They don’t say goodbye, choosing to admire each other as the final seconds tick away.

5…

I can’t wait to see you in person.

4…

God, you’re so gorgeous.

3…

I don’t want to hang up.

2…

I miss you.

1…

I love you.

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#top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick au #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fic #top gun au #top gun imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster imagine #DSS universe #MM fic #mar[r]y me fic #elle writes

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