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wizkiddx · 3 years

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work with me

this is for @worldoftom 'lolbrosgetsicktoo' challenge event thing - go check it out bcos lots of much better writers have got involved too✨! I'm v new to these things but I tried :) the prompt was: 'would you quit whining and just get in the bath' . (also look at me acc posting sort of regularly, who'd of thought?!?!)

warnings: sickness / fever (more dramatic than it needs to be) / LOTS of medical inaccuracies

summary: when tom doesn't take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there's one person whose stuck dealing with it

“Please Tom… I need you to work with me!”

It wasn’t his fault he was being a complete nightmare, though your patience was wearing off somewhat.

For context, you were in Morocco, where he had been filming part of his next film, which only made trying to take care of him that bit harder.

Everyone got ill sometimes. It wasn’t his fault.

That was the mantra ringing through your head, even if you had a more challenging time believing it. Tom wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to joke about it. HOWEVER, what he was less good at was heeding warnings. He was a white boy in Morrocco; the health and safety briefing had literally been aimed at him. Had he taken the advice not to eat any dodgy looking meats at the market?

Of course not; that’d be boring.

Everyone else was fine. You’d all sampled Morroccos culture without giving yourselves the worst case of food poisoning you’d ever witnessed. But not Tom - possibly one of the only ‘indispensable’ people on the set. If you, or one of the minor characters, or even the director, had got ill - the show could continue.

When you’d been rudely awoken by your phone going off, you’d known instantly. It was as if you’d told him not to take a bite out of the weird burger once you were away from the eager view of the street vendor. Sure enough, with bleary eyes, you hissed at the brightness of the phone screen before seeing ‘Tom H’ on the screen.

“Y/n?” His voice was croaky, but just from the single call of your name, it was clear he was feeling sorry for himself.

“Are you okay? It’s late T.”

“Um I… can you come over? You…you might need the key I’m - um- in the bathroom.”

As his stylist, it technically wasn’t part of your job description to also be mother when he was sick, but (unfortunately for you) after the 3 years working side by side with him - you were also friends.

Which you were almost regretting by the second time rinsing the toilet bowl clean after he’d evacuated what seemed to be the majority of his vital organs into it. Honestly, it was impressive how he managed to keep going.

That had been at around 4 in the morning- the doctor had been called at 8, coinciding beautifully with his 5th toilet extravaganza. Once the doctor had confirmed your original, if completely unqualified, diagnosis of food poisoning - you hadn’t been able to bite your tongue. Perhaps an ‘i told you so’ might’ve slipped past your lips, but Tom was a bit too out of it to argue back.

You’d been given firm advice from the doctor - he said little sips of water, rest and control his temperature. It all had seen pretty simple - though the action? Not so much.

It wasn’t his fault, yet Tom was not super compliant. You and Harry had both been taking turns in practically forcing him to take sips of water, having to turn off ‘modern family’ till he did. The blackmail had put you both in his bad book.

Honestly, thank the lord Harry was here too. You’d woken him up at seven, begging for help and since then, you’d tagged teamed. While one was looking after Tom, the other was phoning the director, the doctor, and the crew to inform them of the current situation.

Again, of all people. Why’d it have to be Tom?

Mainly because you knew how mortifying he found this. He didn’t like people fussing over him, never had. He liked to work hard, liked to make people happy - definitely didn’t like to feel a burden. Perhaps what made him feel ten times worse was that he knew he was inconveniencing the whole production team massively.

And yes, as you’d unhelpfully reminded him, it was ‘his fault’.

The lavish hotel room, big bathroom and pretty efficient AC still didn’t manage to mask the pungent in-the-back-of-your-throat smell from the bathroom. At the doctor’s advice, who had been a little concerned at Toms fever, Harry had cranked the AC on high. It had forced you to steal one of Tom’s big hoodies and a pair of joggers- you hadn’t left his room since he first called you, still wearing your tiny pyjama shorts and an old tee.

“Please turn the air con off.” His little voice whined from where he was lying, huddled up under the covers. Perched on the other side of the double bed, but over the covers with your laptop on his lap, you could actually feel him shivering with the chills. It felt like you were torturing the poor boy.

“T you know I can’t. It’ll make your fever worse.” The way he looked up at you, like a little Labrador that you were refusing to pet, actually pained your heart.

Okay, so yes it was his fault, but you weren’t mad, you just felt so awful for him.

“Please I’ll- I’ll pay you more.” His voice was hoarse; though he denied a sore throat, it sounded like the constant sickness was burning his windpipe.

“Tommm” you pouted, sticking your bottom lip out “I don’t want your money, want you to get better.”

Apparently giving up, brown eyes shot you the filthiest look in disappointment, rolling to face away from you. You thought he was giving you the silent treatment in a huff, but instead, he was praying on the weaker one.

“Harry, I’ll buy you that set of golf clubs-“

“NO!” You had to interrupt before Harry would say yes - because from the way his younger brother shot up from the arm chair, he was about to. Scowling eyes slowly focused back on you in annoyance, making you huff - shutting the laptop and kneeling on the bed to face him. After pressing the back of your palm to his forehead, which was scorching hot, you sighed. “I know you feel shitty and I’m so so sorry but I’m trying to make you better. So shut up, drink this and go to sleep!”

Like a child scorned, you received another death glare however, then he complied, taking a sip of the water you offered before lying back - huddling even tighter.

And it had been relatively peaceful for a few hours; Tom seemed to be getting some sleep - even if he was tossing and turning. Eventually, a prescription that the doctor had requested worked its way through the system, Harry getting a text to say he could go pick it up. The nearest pharmacy was probably a 30 minute drive from the hotel, so he left as soon as.

This left you alone with Tom, where the situation only descended into more chaos.

Almost as soon as Harry had left, Tom had stirred with a grunt. All it took was one look at his face for you to know. Both of you leapt up and flew into the toilet, Tom once again getting very familiar with the Moroccan toilet bowl.

This time though, when he had leant backwards, he’d sort of lost control and flopped most the way - you catching him before he could hit his head on the tiled floor.

“Woah, easy there!” It wasn’t like he’d passed out, but the look in his eye as he slumped into your lap… he wasn’t all there either. “Hey Tom… you with me? Tom?”

Lazily he blinked up at you, not really replying except for groans of half-formed words.

Deciding this had all got a bit direr, you almost sprinted back into the room, grabbing your phone and returning. He was still on the floor, his thumb and first finger pressing into each eye - groaning again.

“Hey Tom? I’m gonna call the doctor you need anything?” He whined in response, stopping only when you stroked his sweaty hair back, most of your attention on dialling the correct number.

The solution he’d given wasn’t pretty: Tom’s fever was too high hence why he was all woozy and groany. Until the doctor could get over with the stronger medications, you needed to lower his temperature in other ways or take him to hospital. He’d absolutely hate hospital, but the other choice? Boy, was he not going to like it either.

Ignoring Tom’s croaked question of what you were doing, you busied yourself switching on the bath taps. You let the water run until it was the right (very mild) temperate, then turned back to Tom, who’d managed to work himself up to sit against the sink unit.

“The doctor says you need it.” His brain was foggy, his mind was slow but your tone told him enough to know something was wrong with the bath. “Just take your clothes off and then I’ll help you-“

“Absolutely fucking not.” Good. He was still with it enough to argue.

“I am just as uncomfortable as you are Tom, but we both know you can’t stand up without fainting, so you are going to need my help.”

“Y/n!”

“Keep your boxers on and it’s just like a fitting! I’ve seen you have those before!”

It was clear as day just how emasculated he felt, especially because he knew you were right. Sitting up at this current moment was a push; there was no way he was getting in the bath without some help. Defeatedly he nodded, but gave you a piercing look to turn around before he started wiggling himself out of the flannel pyjama trousers and light cotton t-shirt. Most confusingly, he still felt freezing cold, yet he had long since learned not to argue with you - especially when your justification came from the advice of a doctor.

Your cue to turn around came in the form of an extra angry-sounding grunt- the look you got when you did wasn’t much better either. It was a weird contrast, though, having someone who physically appeared so indestructible (a superhero for crying out loud); to have been absolutely beaten to a pulp by a few mouth fulls of weird meat. You had seen his bare torso before, although it still wasn’t something easy to get used to - making you clench your teeth together just slightly. A very welcome view.

Perhaps you looked just a little too long at the man who was technically your boss, hunched angrily on the floor in nothing but his calvins - another grunt shaking you out of it. By now, the bath was almost full and you hurried to shut off the water, feeling your cheeks heat up as you cursed silently to yourself.

“Okay come on, gimme your arm.” Begrudgingly Tom followed your request, slinging his arm heavily over your shoulder as you crouched beside him. As strong as he looked, you knew right now he felt powerlessly weak - all that muscle was just going to be almost dead weight.

Now it was your turn to grunt and groan as you pulled Tom up to stand, him focusing on blinking away the headrush he got.

“Come on T work with me here.” Getting him to the side of the bath wasn’t too difficult, the issue came when he stepped with one foot into the bath and yelped, instantly withdrawing as if it was a literal ice bath.

The sudden movement had you both losing balance, ending with Tom sitting on the edge of the bath and you leaning over him, in between his legs, and slapping your hand on the wall opposite purely so you both didn’t end up in the bath.

“Tom!”

“It’s like ice water!”

“Its lukewarm like the doctor said!”

“It is not its from the fucking arctic!”

“Oh for god sake!” Exasperated, you paced up and down the bathroom shaking your head at his ridiculousness. This was ALL. HIS. FAULT.

You came back to him with an ultimatum.

“It’s this or the doctor said I had to drag your ass to hospital.”

“Nooooooo.” The 25 year old seemed to convert into a whiny three year old again.

“Those are the two options. So will you PLEASE quit complaining and get in the bath.”

Keeping up the toddler persona, Tom huffed but reluctantly nodded in agreement - you had come up trumps. It didn’t stop him yelping when you helped to lower him in. His breath was shaky, as a response to the ‘cold’, but he was firming it. At least when you felt his forehead after a couple of minutes, it certainly seemed as though the fever was starting to ease off .

“You can go if you want.” His voice was murmured and as you looked up at him, he did his very best to avoid your gaze.

“Not a chance, if you drown on my watch, Nikki will never forgive me.” At the very least he seemed to appreciate your joke, scoffing a little with a small nod. “If you don’t want me here I get it. As soon as Harry’s back, I’ll swap with him.”

“No! It’s not that its… I’m just an ass when I’m ill.”

“A self aware ass, though.” Again he chuckled a little, as you folded your arms on the edge of the porcelain tub, resting your head lying to one side. “You had me pretty scared there for a moment, you know?”

He nodded a little, creating a wave of ripples in the water which you watched to avoid his gaze - which you knew was tracing all your features inquisitively.

“Hey it’s in the job description, always a bit dramatic... I’m sorry though I should never of called you- don’t know why I didn’t just get Harry.” In response you tutted, taking a moment to lean up and push his sweaty curls back a bit.

Just because you could, it was allowed in this moment.

“’m glad you did.”

“Yeh me too” He sighed, eyes fluttering shut in the easy silence of the bathroom. You kept a vigilant eye on him for the next 20 minutes, checking the temperature of his forehead using the back of your hand, whilst he seemed to finally get a bit of proper restbite, appearing like the worst had passed. You had no idea what was taking Harry so long; in fact it was the doctor that arrived first- who you ran to let in (not wanting to leave Tom asleep in the bath one bit).

Whilst the doctor did all his checks, taking his temperature properly this time, satisfied that it was much more manageable. He still wanted to set him up with some oral rehydration rescue packs to get his hydration status a bit better and give some anti-sickness tablets and antipyretics.

Having actually been getting some rest before all the prodding and poking, Tom was back to being a grumbling dick - now not wanting to leave the bath (the irony was real - making you roll your eyes). Once again, he appeared embarrassed to have you see him like this, so you left the doctor to help him get out and changed- instead going down to reception to get a fresh set of sheets, as he’d done a pretty impressive job of sweating through the old ones.

Even if tired and grumpy, when Tom exited the bathroom, he looked much better - he was walking himself without the doctor’s help. Which honestly was such a relief because when he had passed out on you, you genuinely were terrified. Thankfully the doctor stayed for the next 20 or so minutes, which was just when Harry returned with a bag of medications - which were now wholly redundant, given the doctor had already supplied everything.

“What happened?” Harry asked you in a hushed voice, whilst Tom was distracted with getting his medications. Recounting the story of Tom pretty much passing out, Harry grimaced for you, then launching over to give you a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” That was a novel idea, you hadn’t really thought about yourself at all - but honestly, you were a bit shaken, having been running on adrenalin for most of the night.

“I-uhm… yeh I think so… just-just was a bit scared, I guess? Felt bad too because he didn’t want me there but-“

“I can promise you Y/n, he did want you there. Just probably embarrassed he wasn’t all manly and that…” With a nod, you smiled softly at the frizzy-haired boy.

Whilst working with Tom, it also meant getting pretty close to his younger brother. The two Hollands were almost attached at the hip, which you were very much okay with.

It was weird though... your relationships were completely different. Harry was just your brother, through and through. He wound you up like a sibling but also knew you as if he had your whole life. With Tom… it wasn’t that. Arguably, you were closer to Tom, but on a different level. It was more exciting, more nerve-wracking and heartwarming all at the same time. Honestly, you couldn’t get your head around it properly.

“Hey, you’re probably shattered. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some sleep? I got it in here.” You knew Hary was trying to offer something nice, and now all the excitement had worn off, you were unbelievably shattered. But you didn’t like the idea of not being there, as a just in case.

“Uhm, I think I might just stay, you know?” And he did, with a deliberate, knowing smile, he nodded.

He knew you were worried. He knew Tom had really really scared you. He also knew how much you cared about his brother.

Just like how Harry knew Tom wanted you there, even if he felt embarrassed. Well, anyone would- when you are passing out half-naked in front of the one person that really matters.

It was just at this point that the doctor was done, giving Harry instructions about the rest of the day, when you made a beeline for the bed. Tom was propped up against the headboard, still with a pale sullen look and tired eyes, but a bit less clammy and more human. He cracked a smile as you crawled up onto the other side of the bed, kneeling next to him.

“How’re you doin’?”

“All drugged up, just feel fucking exhausted.” Instinctively you reached up to feel his forehead, really appreciating the fact it felt almost normal.

“Join the club mate, I had a 5am wake up call too.” You almost whispered, intending to make Tom laugh, but instead only getting a pout.

“I am sorry, a-are you going to go back to your room?”

“Nah” Tom’s eyes didn’t light up, except the fact that they very much did. “Can’t trust you not to get into trouble while I’m gone Holland.”

“Thanks.” He laughed weakly before shimmying down on the bed, so he was much more comfortable. “And thankyou, I-I’m sorry I’m a dickhead and made your life-“

“Shut up Tom!” Laughing, you lightly slapped his arm, also leaning down on the bed, so you were lying facing him. “You’re all feverish; go to sleep before you say something stupid.”

There was a long pause, Tom just gazing deep into your eyes, because he was pretty sure what he was thinking was nothing to do with the dodgy unidentified meat he’d had the evening before.

“What... like asking you out?”

…..

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so stupid.”

~~~~im really not sure how I feel about this one, let me know what you thought ;) ~~~~

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter@hollandfanficlove

#tomholland #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #hurt comfort #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #harry holland

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

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meet me in the gardens

knight!natasha x lady!reader

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say not to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either.

warnings: marriage lol, angsty knights and ladies, reality slapping mfs in the face almost too quickly

word count: 3.3k

hi guys,,, it has been a slow minute, thank you guys for even still clicking on this after all this time lmao

part seven!!

It was customary to have more than one handmaiden dress a lady for her wedding, but both you and Wanda knew that no one was going to be allowed to watch you break down from the inside out. There were no words between the two of you as she laced you up as an unmarried woman for the last time, your gown gorgeous and heavy with weight and meaning. You didn’t even sniffle as the tears ran down your face, eyes blazing with emotions that would be forever unspoken.

Wanda wiped your face and started to dress that up, too.

While you stood there, you couldn’t help but think of the night before. Dinner with Rumlow was an absolute travesty. He was rude, brutish, and even more of an animal than your last husband. He chewed like he was some type of wolf, smacked his lips far too loud, and was by far the rudest person to your staff. His language was of the pirates and his eyes wandered from you, to Wanda, to a younger girl, and then back to you with the same look of disgusting desire. It was painfully obvious that he was the type of man to see things and get things because he desired them. He was the type to break his toys, as well. He was horrible, and that was all before the eyes of other people. You started to feel sick when you thought about how brave he would be behind closed doors. The doors that would be closing very, very soon on the two of you.

The dinner was horrible, but the worst part was that Natasha wasn’t there. The worst part was always going to be her absence.

“You look so beautiful,” Wanda said, her voice a crackling and regretful whisper as she watched you in the vanity, a small and forced smile on her face. You met her eyes only for a second in the mirror before you turned them away, down to look at your covered feet.

“I’m being thrown away,” you said slowly, like the words were pulling themselves from your lips. “For the second time in my life. Is this the life of a woman that I tried to avoid so terribly? Is this the fate of all women?”

Wanda opened and shut her mouth, trying to find something to say that could possibly help you, and then she just shut it for good, her lips wobbling. You could feel her guilt radiating off of her, feel it stewing and brewing inside of her heart and chest even though it wasn’t her fault. You wanted to tell her that, to reassure her that she didn’t fail you like she thought she did, and that she never could fail you, but your lips were stuck together as white hot tears fell down your face.

There were three sharp knocks on your door, and you wiped your tears quickly, expecting someone to barge in. “Who is it?” You asked, the fake strength in your voice barely enough to hide the fact that you were crying and miserable.

“I’m Lord Rumlow’s-”

“You aren’t allowed in here,” Wanda responded roughly. “No one sees her until she comes out, that’s a rule.” And it was a rule, one that you had forgotten all about. No one was supposed to see the bride before she made her long walk to the groom. And even during the walk, a covering was supposed to be on the bride’s face, shielding her from the world. It was sickening. “So go away.” Wanda’s tone had whoever the man was nearly jogging away, not even asking a second question.

“I don’t know if I’m gonna be sick or not,” you muttered, and Wanda pushed the barrel that she brought earlier closer towards you.

“Use it if you need to, honey.” Just as you were about to bend over and give up the breakfast that you didn’t even eat, there were soft raps on the door.

“If have to tell you to go away one more time-”

“It’s me,” a familiar vice said, and Wanda immediately stopped talking. “And I brought someone else, too.” You picked your head up from the barrel and looked towards the closed door, trusting that Pietro wouldn’t have done anything stupid. Wanda felt the same, clearing the space between where she originally was and the door within seconds. Pietro came in, fumbling and looking at you with a pitiful smile. You turned away, and then there was a flash of red in the corner of your eye.

Your chest seized up.Your hands started to shake, and the tears that you had dried started back up all over again. “Oh.”

“Let’s leave them for a few moments, Pietro.” Wanda suggested, tugging him out of the room by the arm and leaving you and Natsaha in the room together, alone.

No one spoke for a long time.

You just stared at her, just like she stared at you, watching her chest rise and fall, and the guarded look in her eyes. She looked angry. But you knew her better than that. Sometimes, you wondered how you know her better than that because you had such a short time to know her at all. But it felt like you had watched a thousand sunsets and seen millions of river cycles with her. But it still wasn’t enough. And now, standing in front of her with a wedding dress that wasn’t meant for her at all, you knew that you had lied to her and to yourself that night at the river. Nothing was ever going to be enough.

“You look…” She started, taking a step closer to you. “You look stunning. You always have.”

You shook your head at her, looking away for a moment to gather your bearings. Your voice trembled as you tried to get something out, anything that would make the situation even a little better. “I’m sorry.”

��Don’t be.” You gave her a glare. “Don’t be. We both knew how this was going to end, and we both still continued. This isn’t shocking news to me, or you. It’s horrible, but we knew it was coming.”

In that moment, reality hit. All those stupid promises about going to the gardens or the woods behind Rumlow’s back seemed like a suicide mission. That one, long chat about running away seemed like two naive children after being scolded by their parents. You had been peacefully living in an untainted world with Natasha, when you of all people knew much better than that. “So, what? What point are you getting at?”

“I chose to go on being with you because I knew that regardless of where you were or where I was, or who you were with, that the love wouldn’t leave. I chose to have a little slice of happiness and knowledge that we tried, and that we had fun together. I chose to have that, and so did you. We know that we would have worked out, if this wasn’t happening. We know that if there’s another universe or another life, that we’ll end up together. Just not this time.” She took a step closer to you, her eyes lingering on your damp cheeks. “I’ll always be in love with you.”

You were realizing too quickly that a world where you were allowed to love her and she was allowed to love you was years and years away. It was a place you could only dream about, but all you had to work with was a world who didn’t tolerate true love in the face of duty, and a world who certainly didn’t tolerate two women together. You would not let her die for you, or your love.

“From afar,” you said, and for a second you were afraid that she would push you and ask why you were walking away. You were afraid that she wouldn’t get it. You had been jumping around in your own mind, making concrete conclusions at the drop of a hat and jumping to the next subject. You wondered if she was keeping up, if she was on the same page as you were even through all the skipping around.

It hurt to admit, but you were realizing that you were on the same page. Just the other night, you were promising forever, promising every second alone to each other. You promised a life of secrecy and adoration, and that was what your hopeful heart wanted. But now, you had a mind, and your mind knew it was life or death. Your mind knew that sneaking around wasn’t plausible and it held more potential for danger than you ever wanted to have. By the look in Natasha’s eyes, you could tell that she had made a complete turn, too. You were both at the same crossroads, staring at each other from feet away.

You had told her forever, and she had promised you the same, but it just wasn’t going to work. It never was going to in the beginning.

But then she nodded at you, a sad look in her eyes even though there was a tiny smile. “From afar.”

“Are you gonna be there?”

“To watch you get married?” She said, her face twisting up in disgust. “No.” Pause. “I can if you want me to be.”

You shook your head. “Don’t come.” She would already have to sit through the hours of barbaric celebration by law, but she didn’t have to watch the ceremony. Making her would be torture to you both.

“That’s what you want?” You nodded your head. “Then I won’t come.”

Your heart was racing in your chest, contrasting to the way you typically felt just content upon seeing her. “What if I told you that I wanted you to kiss me one last time?”

“I’d ask where all the time went, for us to be on our last already.”

You scoffed, more out of disbelief than because you found it funny. “Where did all the time go?”

She shrugged. “The stars ate it up.”

§§

You had to be one of the angriest brides the kingdom had ever seen. The veil covered your face, your hands trembled with nerves and fury, and your eyes held unshed tears. Wanda was whispering beside you as the room to the door opened, telling you that she would always have your back while the procession started, but you hardly heard a thing. All you could think of was that it was your second time being sold like a farm animal, being made to marry someone you hated. You hated it. You hated the High Priest. You hated that the distant king did nothing. You hated that you weren’t strong enough to put a knife through Lord Rumlow’s eye.

The procession was slow, as all processions for weddings were. Much to Lord Rumlow’s chagrin, you were being led by two people instead of one, who was supposed to be one of his knights. Wanda and Pietro led you, one on each side, the three of you linked by hand while it was traditionally by elbow. Your feet ached almost as much as your heart as you walked past people that you could hardly see because of the veil, but you could tell that they were in awe. The dress was long and beautiful, you had some of the most expensive jewelry money could buy, and you were sure that you looked like a princess. You could hear the whispers of people who were excited to watch a noble wedding, excited to have the feat that was entitled to everyone in the village after such a big event. You wanted to cry once you realized how unaware they were about the way you were forced into it.

Soon, you checked out of your own body. You were confident enough in Pietro and Wanda’s leading of you to close your eyes, holding back tears. If he lifted the veil and saw you crying, who knew what he would do? You saw stars when you did, constellations, clouds, even flashes of your favorite rose bushes. You took in a breath, eyes still closed as you tried to find a happy place. You prayed to the gods that the walk would be never ending, that the twins would lead you off in the forest and have you live as some sort of forest woman, fending for herself but free. But then their feet stopped.

“Today we have come under the light of the sun to see a love blossom,” your eyes snapped open as you blinked, squinting at the priest who was holding his brown book, even though he hardly needed it. He was talking without looking at it, eyes searching the crowd for attention. You rolled your eyes.

He seemed to talk for hours. You could feel Brock Rumlow next to you, taking Pietro’s spot on your right. Pietro made a displeased sound and stood next to Wanda, who was clenching your hand tightly, like she was terrified of letting you go. You were so far out that you didn’t even realize that he was done talking until you felt your right hand be grabbed by a rough one, one that reminded you of words and fights and blood. It was callous and cruel, and your head whipped around to see Brock Rumlow holding the deep red sash, his mouth moving in confidence as he repeated the vows that the priest said.

“Lady Y/N,” the priest said, and slowly, your veiled face turned his way. “Repeat after me, if you please. No, I do not please. You echoed every word with such monotony that it hurt your own sears. You saw Rumlow’s jaw twitch at your minor defiance. You tilted your head higher. “You may now wrap your hands.”

You watched him wrap both of your hands together with the thick, red ribbon. Your stomach lurched as you realized that there was no going back after the priest said the next words. You had already been through it once before. Your heart skipped beats in your chest. I’m never going to be free again. This is it. This is my last moment of freedom. My last moment of true happiness has gone with the wind.

“You may now unshroud your bride, and show her to the awaiting world.”

§§

The rest of the day passed in a blur. A common girl that Rumlow had nearly thrown your way was refused by you, and when she said that she was required to stay, you made her sit down while Wanda undressed you and put you into the comfortable yet delicate dress that brides wore after their weddings. She had to watch awkwardly as you sobbed in and out of Wanda’s arms, not even caring that she was there.

The tears were long gone by the feast and the anger had come out to play. Every time your new husband attempted to speak to you, you ignored him. There was a hard look in your eyes as you sat and watched everyone, watching the culture clash between your peaceful people and his rowdy men and women. They were the ones drinking quickly, belching, laughing far too loudly for your taste, and being crude. Your people had separated themselves from them and were talking amongst themselves, no doubt becoming worried because of your demeanor.

“You’ve only spoken to me once tonight, wife.” You ignored him again.

It was true. You spoke to him one time, and it was when he told you that Wanda and Pietro couldn't sit at the grand table. According to him, there weren't enough seats at the table that was meant for lords and ladies, and he had brought his own fair share. He didn’t see the twins as anything other than your friends, and so he tried to have them moved over to the corner of the room. You didn’t tolerate that at all. “They’re staying with me,” was all you said, and by the way he tensed up, you were sure that it was going to be a fight. Maybe it was the rage in your eyes that made him back down and nod twice, jaw clenching along with his fists. But indeed, they were beside you, just as silent and angry as you were.

Natasha hadn’t shown up yet. It was heavily frowned upon for her to miss the celebration, but you weren’t going to force her to come. You knew that if the roles were reversed that you would rather die than see her dressed as a bride and not be your bride. You knew that the situation was eating at her just as much as it was at you. You hated it.

Part of you was glad that she wasn’t there. You were glad that you wouldn’t be tortured by seeing her so far away but so close, so unattainable that it was laughable that your heart even wanted her. But since she had gotten out of that carriage and you had expected a man, your heart pumped for her. And it always would.

“Are you enjoying yourself, wife?” Even though you hadn’t heard his voice much, you knew his slimy, self assured tone from anywhere. It sent shivers down your back and a frown to your face as your thoughts were catapulted from the woman you loved straight to the man who you would rather die than be associated with.

The dress was heavy on your shoulders even though you were sitting down, and your distraught feelings were heavy on your mind. “No.”

“We’re wed, and now we are powerful.” He said, his goblet of wine reaching out towards the guests, even though only a few were watching your interaction. “Look at us. Two people in deep lov-”

“I really couldn’t care less, Lord Rumlow.” You said, blinking twice once you realized that you had spoken your thoughts aloud. You swallowed some water from your own silver goblet with the time that his shock granted you. “You and I both know that this wasn’t for love, and if you ever suggest that was the reason we were married, I will tell everyone the way you begged for my hand over letters and make sure that you are no longer capable of having an heir.”

There was another moment of silence from him, and then a scoff. His face was friendly, maybe approachable even, but when you took a shallow look into his eyes, you could see the fury brewing beneath his expression, the anger at being blatantly disrespected- by a woman.

“Look,” he started, his voice more sinister than you had heard it yet, “we have two major pieces of land together, and a large population of people under our control. Farmlands and water, it’s ours now. On my own, I was strong. But now that I’ve wed you, I’m fucking untouchable.” He leaned back in his seat and you released a long breath through your nose. His dark eyes were still boring into yours, even as you dared to tilt your head sideways, a show of derision. There was a subtle flash of red. “And I will be damned to hell if I let you disrespect me after I’ve climbed my way from the bottom. Remember that.”

You had already had enough. Enough of him, enough of the situation, enough of being told what to do. The first man you married that had turned you from a girl rolling in dirt with pigs into a wealthy lady without even a whisper of your consent was long gone. You would be damned if you let another turn you into a broodmare and an idle chess piece, regardless of the consequences. “And my first husband is dead,” you said, head tilting even more. “Remember that.”

You couldn’t hide your smirk without the silver goblet.

******

an: well hi guys haha it’s been a while since this has been updated! i’m so sorry that its been about two months... i hope that someone still loves this story at least! its coming to an end very soon! i hope it all ties together like i want it to, and that it feels resolute to you guys. i’m gonna tag some of y’all!!

taglist!

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@xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ima-gi--na-tion–na-tion @chickenhavewisdom

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #nat x fem reader #natasha x female reader #natasha x fem!reader #marvel au #lesbian!natasha #lgbt marvel #natasha romanoff fanfic #marvel fanfiction #knight au #knight!natasha #royalty au

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mandoalorian · 4 years

Text

Office Surprise [Maxwell Lord x Reader] SMUT

Authors note: Credit goes to one of my besties for coming up with this idea— I hope I executed it alright. Also I wrote this all in one sitting so apologies if it’s a bit muddled, I think it should be okay though. Maxwell and the reader have a pre-existing relationship and it’s inferred that they’ve dated for quite a long while.

Rating: 18+ only.

Warnings: SMUT | oral (f receiving), use of toys, unprotected p in v, slight praise k!nk/degradation, a little rough, slight dom/sub dynamic if you squint, choking.

Word count: 5k

Permanent taglist - let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal

Masterlist

Being the girlfriend of Maxwell Lord certainly wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but as you swiped his platinum black Amex card at the Victoria Secret cashier, you recognised it had its privileges. What did he expect you to do? Sit at home all day reading interior design magazines and baking desserts? No. You were bored. Maxwell had come home every night and complained about his long hard week at work but you knew it couldn’t be as boring as sitting alone in his enormous DC house. It got so incredibly lonely.

You planned on travelling to the city anyways today; to get some final Christmas presents for your friends. And Maxwell’s office just so happened to be located in the city centre and so you figured it would only be polite to pay him a little visit. After all, he surely couldn’t be too busy to see you. You had his driver drop you off and pick you up from the different shops. You had been dating Maxwell long enough to understand the way his mind worked. If you wanted to visit him during one of his busiest work weeks, you’d have to give him a reason to make you want to stay.

You had visited his office plenty of times before. He’d greet you with the same surprised smile and elation in his eyes, but it wouldn’t be long until he put his head back down and ignored you for his work, humming whenever you tried speaking to him and only ever vaguely listening. As Maxwell’s driver took you to your next store of choice, you let your mind ponder ways you could really grab his full attention.

You wanted to have fun. The more your mind raced, the more you wanted to make your visit unforgettable. And that’s when your idea to visit Victoria Secret came to you. You hadn’t been to the store in a while, smiling pleasantly when you were greeted with a happy employee wearing a santa hat. Pulling down your sunglasses in hope she didn’t recognise you, you offered her a smile. “We have our new Christmas range in stock.” she grinned cheerily.

“Take me to it, please,” you replied and the employee nodded excitedly, guiding you through the aisles.

“A lot of red lingerie sets this year.” She held her arms out, showing you the variety. One pieces, two pieces, full blown costumes. One set in particular caught your eye… a lacy number with a small silk ribbon. It was like nothing you owned before and you knew how much Maxwell liked the colour red on you. You took it from the rack. “An excellent choice!” the store assistant beamed. You were ready to pay and leave but then she opened her mouth again. “We have a new range of toys too!”

Toys? That could be interesting.

Before you knew it, you were in the back of the black limousine, frantically changing out of your clothes and into your newly purchased lingerie. It only took a few minutes for the driver to pull up outside Black Gold Cooperative. You fastened your heels and tied the belt around your knee length crimson coloured coat before stepping out of the car.

You practically yelped as the cold winter air stung your skin. You weren’t sure how great of an idea it was, to visit Maxwell wearing nothing but lingerie and his favourite coat, but it was too late to have any regrets now. With a confident smile, you pulled off your sunglasses and entered the building through the rotating glass doors.

Maxwell’s assistant and receptionist, both intern age blonde girls, greeted you with a snarl. “You- you aren’t supposed to be here!” His assistant pointed an accusing finger at you. “Mr Lord is fully booked up today and you haven’t made an appointment!”

“Give me a break,” you rolled your eyes, storming over to the elevator, your heels clicking against the marble floor. You knew they envied you for being the girlfriend of the richest man in America but you didn’t care enough to give them the time of day.

You entered the elevator and let it take you to the very top floor; where Maxwell’s office was.

"Oh hey, look who it is." Bradley Huntington, acting sales manager of Black Gold Cooperative smiled as you stepped out the elevator. Two men who were standing alongside him turned to face you, their jaw dropping slightly as they drunk in your appearance. You refrained from shooting them an eye roll— the men here had absolutely no shame. They wanted you to know that they were watching you.

"Hi boys." you replied with a faux politeness, your ruby red lips curling into a returning smile. "What are you doing out here, chatting by the coffee machine?" you raised a curious eyebrow. "Maxwell going easy on your workload?" You didn't care, you didn't snoop your nose in your boyfriend's business, but you did enjoy pretending like you had some kind of authority as his partner. It was fun to see these slimy grown men panic at your words.

"On a break," Bradley replied plainly, his smirk only growing as he took a step closer to you, breaking any distance. "I don't see you around here much anyway. Was beginning to wonder if you had gotten sick of that old grump and made a run for it." he chuckled, dropping a hand to his hip and pointing his finger at the double doors behind him that lead into Maxwell Lord's office.

You shot him a sweet little giggle, as if to trick him into thinking his flirtations were working. "Leave Maxie?" you laughed. "That cutie wouldn't have a clue what to do without me!" you exclaimed, the wicked smile not leaving your lips for one second. "Now if you excuse me…" you went to enter Maxwell's office but a comment made by Bradley made you pause in your tracks.

"Sweetheart," he laughed. "You belong on MTV, not in an office building or cooped up in Maxwell's bedroom."

"Isn't he Mr Lord to you?" you shot back with a snarl, the smile slipping from his face only momentarily. You grinned when you saw the panic wash over him, his face turning pale with nerves.

"Uh actually- me and Mr Lord- me and Maxwell, are good friends. We're on first name basis." Bradley fumbled out. You wanted to laugh at his lame attempt of a smooth recovery. You knew that wasn't true at all.

"Good friends huh?" you folded your arms across your chest.

"Mm," Bradley mumbled, stepping closer to you and placing his hand over your coat. "Take your coat off, you must be hot." You felt your heart jump and a sickness bubble up in your stomach. Bradley really was slimy.

"I'm good." you shot back. Bradley shrugged and reached down to the belt that was holding your coat together. He slowly leaned into you and you quickly pushed him off you. Bradley stumbled back into an abundance of chairs, knocking a few over in the process.

"Darling?" You felt your heart rate increase speed when you heard your boyfriend's voice. Your head turned to face Maxwell who was standing by his office door, scowling. You looked back at Bradley who's colour had completely drained out of his face and you beamed.

"Maxie!" you smiled, walking over to your boyfriend and protectively placing a hand under his suit jacket and setting place on his chest. His scowl didn't move from Bradley as he slid an arm around your waist, holding you tight.

"Thought I could hear your voice," Maxwell whispered in your ear causing a frenzy of butterflies to erupt in your stomach. "What are you doing here?"

"Just came to catch up with your friends." you teased. Maxwell lifted a curious eyebrow.

"Is that so?" he quizzed, beginning to feel irritated by the presence of his employees, and even more annoyed by the lilt in your voice that suggested you wanted to play with him. "I hope Bradley wasn't causing any fuss." Maxwell raised his voice and Bradley shook his head furiously.

"N-no sir, not at all." Bradley said quickly, offering the CEO a nervous smile. You bit your lip and gently tugged on Maxwell's tie.

"Baby," you whined out, looking up at him through your fluttering eyelashes. "Can we go into your office?" you asked sweetly. Maxwell finally tore his eyes from an anxious Bradley and smiled down at you.

"Of course darling." he replied, ushering you through the door.

"Bye boys! Behave!" you called, shooting them one last smirk.

"Alright come on now." Maxwell sighed, placing his hand into the small of your back and pushing you into his office.

You padded into his huge office, placing your purse and shopping bags down on one of the chairs. Before Maxwell entered, he made sure to shoot Bradley one final death glare. Maxwell locked the double doors and turned around. He grabbed you by the collar of your red coat and pinned you to the door, pressing his lips against yours passionately. In fact, so passionately, you wondered if his harshness would leave a bruise. He bit down on your lower lip, his hand snapping ahold of your neck causing a small gasp escape your lips. Maxwell pulled away, his breathing heavy against your skin. "What happened?" he gritted out, looking up at you with lust-blown eyes.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him off you, walking away from where he had pinned you against the door. "Nothing, just your sleazy coworkers not knowing when to give up." you rolled your eyes, checking your appearance in the mirror and fixing your lipstick as it had smudged from the kiss.

"Bradley," Maxwell exhaled, his eye contact not breaking from you once. "Did he touch you?"

"Enough to make me uncomfortable? Yes. But I got him off me. I can handle myself, Maxie." you sighed, fixing your hair and turning back to your boyfriend.

"I know you can," Maxwell said lowly, slowly approaching you. You recognised that primal glint lighting up in his eyes and you smiled. "What did he say to you?"

"Said I shouldn't spend all day cooped up at home, or here, in your office. He said I was pretty enough to be on MTV." you beamed proudly and Maxwell grunted, nodding slowly. He placed a hand, cupping your face and rubbed his thumb along the high of your cheekbones.

"He must've been feeling bold, hitting on you like that." Maxwell tutted. You nuzzled your face into his hand, the coolness of his gold rings making you wince only slightly.

"What do you think Maxie?" you asked, your voice as sweet as honey. "Am I pretty enough to be on television?" you let your hands pull off his suit jacket and roam over his white button down shirt, tugging teasingly at his suspenders as you waited for a response.

But Maxwell didn't stay a word. He looked down at you with his lust-blown eyes and ran his thumb over the plumpless of your lower lip. You parted your mouth, taking his finger and sucking on the digit. Maxwell mewled as he watched you intently, admiring the work of your mouth. You pulled your lips away from his finger with a pop and beamed proudly when you saw the slight blush that crossed his face.

"I think you show up at my work uninvited, dressed like that, flirting with my employees…" he scowled, his gaze not lifting from you once. You wanted to fight him for accusing you of flirting with other men, but you knew him. And he knew you. He knew you would always be faithful; he was just playing a game. Another one of Maxwell Lord's twisted games that you had grown accustomed too. He had that look in his eye— the one you were all too familiar with. It was almost predatory. He tsked, shaking his head and letting out a small chuckle. "Look at you, here, in my office, thinking you can call the shots. I'm busy darling, go home."

"Oh," you hummed, biting your lip and twiddling with your hair. "Because if you're too busy... Bradley offered me-" Your lilt was teasing and you could tell it was making him feel defensive. You knew how protective he got over you.

"What?" Maxwell sneered, his hand dropping to the belt that held your coat together.

You gulped, knowing that if he just tugged a little harder on the belt, your little surprise for him would be revealed. "He- uhm, he-"

"C'mon honey, spit it out." Maxwell smirked, loving the jumbled reaction he was getting out of you, although he was unsure why you were suddenly so nervous when you had walked into his office so confidently. His hands didn't leave your belt and you took a deep breath, looking up at him and into his eyes.

"Said that if I ever get bored of you, I know where to find him." You pursed your lips together and shot him a devilish smile.

"Tell me darling," Maxwell hummed, his hand once again reaching up to your face, his finger brushing over your lips. "What urged you to come to my office in the middle of the day when you know I'm swarmed with work?" he narrowed his eyes.

"I got bored." you admitted sheepishly, swaying your hips from side to side.

"So you come to my work… act like a brat and…" Maxwell paused when he saw you pout. "What?"

"I didn't do anything wrong Maxie." you whined. "Was all them. Was all Bradley."

"You have everything at home. Everything you need to keep you occupied." Maxwell glanced over at your shopping bags that were on his chair. "Spending my money?" Maxwell asked and you nodded shyly.

"But I think you'll like it." you told him, biting your lip.

"Show me."

You placed his hands back on the belt of your coat. "See for yourself." you whispered with a smirk.

Taking the hint, Maxwell slowly tugged on your belt that was tying your coat together. Coming loose, your coat opened up, revealing the lace red lingerie set you were doting, and nothing else. Maxwell's gaze fell from your face to your body as he revelled in the gorgeous sight that stood before him. You stood there in silence for a few seconds, as he drunk in every inch of your body.

"You've been wearing that this whole time?" Maxwell swallowed, staring at your tits. Finally he brought himself to look up at your face, taking a deep breath and straightening his posture. "While you were talking to Brad-"

"Max please," you rolled your eyes, shuffling out of the coat and letting it drop to the floor.

"I've never seen it before." Maxwell admitted.

"It's new," you told him, taking a step closer and pulling off his suit jacket, letting it pool on the floor alongside your winter coat. "Got it for you. You like it?" you smiled, twirling around and giving him a little dance. Your heels clicked against the marble floor as you spun around for him. Maxwell didn't say anything, but if the bulge in his tailored pants was anything to go off… you giggled. "Oh Maxie, you do like it."

Maxwell cleared his throat. "Whilst you do look ravishing, I am busy so-"

"But I wasn't finished showing you what I bought." you poured, blinking your doe-like eyes and folding your arms over your chest, the lace grazing your skin.

Maxwell shook his head and walked back over to his desk, sinking into his office chair. He cursed under his breath as he began to palm himself under his desk knowing you wouldn't be able to see. He looked down at the abundance of papers, trying to concentrate, but it wasn't working. Giving in, he looked back over to you.

You were bent over, rummaging through one of your shopping bags in search of something. Your legs were spaced apart so perfectly, Maxwell knew you must've been doing it on purpose— to tease him. His eyes felt heavy as he watched you, his fingers grazing over his throbbing length. He felt so restricted, so confined… but he didn't want to give you the liberty of knowing what you had done to him. When he saw you straighten yourself back up, he looked back down at the stack of papers on his desk.

You picked out a long black box with no markings, and placed it before Maxwell on his desk. Maxwell looked up at you, waiting for an explanation. "What is it?" he asked and you shrugged nonchalantly.

"Open it." you urged with a smile. Maxwell hesitated, his gaze wandering to the locked door, back to you, and then down at the matte box. He carefully undone the ribbon that wrapped it and opened the lid. Rummaging amongst the tissue, his eyes glinted with desire and wicked delight upon finding what you had bought. He couldn't help but smirk. "Well?" you cooed, perching yourself on the corner of your desk.

Maxwell nodded, not saying a word. He took the purple vibrator out of the box and put it down on the desk next to his stationary. "This couldn't have waited until I got home?" he quizzed, his voice breaking slightly. You grinned and shook your head. "I see."

"Am I in trouble?" you pouted and Maxwell's smirk grew. He pushed the papers and the stationary from his desk, clearing it of room.

"Lie down." he demanded and you squealed excitedly. You reached down to your feet to unclip your heels when Maxwell brought his hand to your neck. "No. Keep them on." he ordered sternly. You bit your lip and nodded, obeying his request. His large hand still wrapped around your neck, he carefully pushed you into the table.

The coolness of the expensive oak made you squirm. Maxwell walked around his desk, grabbing your legs and dragging your body further down closer to him. He spread them apart and began to kiss along your thighs. "I do love this colour on you." he mumbled into your skin, his fingers gracing your soaked core through the red lace. You shivered under his touch and you swore you could feel his smirk press into your skin.

"I know." you admitted with a shaky exhale. He wasted no time teasing. He thought it was only fair he got a little payback. The curve of his nose nudged against your clit as he pressed soft kisses into your cunt.

You brought your hands down to your panties in attempt to wriggle them off and free yourself but Maxwell's large ring clad hands stopped you. "Patience." he muttered and you let out a whine as he licked you through the material.

"Please," you begged, your toes curling with pleasure as he kisses around your entrance.

"I thought you bought this lingerie for me, baby," Maxwell chuckled, his warm breath going straight through your core.

"I did." you muttered, your eyes fluttering shut as he continued to kiss and lick.

"So let me enjoy it," he growled, lifting his head up from between your legs and fumbling with the little red bow at the top of your panties. "It's cute." Maxwell smiled and you felt your cheeks heat up. He pulled your legs further down and you wrapped them around his waist as he leaned over your body.

Hovering over you, he pressed a soft kiss into your neck and began to palm at your breast, running his thumb over your hardening nipple as he slid his tongue into your mouth. You brought your hands up to his hair and laced your fingers in his dark blonde locks, tugging on it just the way you knew he liked. You wondered if he was going to even take your bra off; heck— you wondered if he was going to take his own clothes off. He was standing over you in his suit pants and white work shirt, although the tie and the suspenders had been ditched.

You were breathless when Maxwell pulled away from your lips and his hand wrapped around your throat again, squeezing gently. The pressure made you gasp out a soft moan as he brought his kisses down your neck and along your collarbones, down the valley of your breasts and your stomach until his head was positioned back in between your legs.

"You're exquisite." Maxwell sighed, raking in his view. He pressed his middle finger and index finger into your core, feeling how damp your panties already were. "All for me?" he cooed, his brown eyes sparkling with delight. He switched over to his thumb where he began to rub your clit. "Such a good girl." he praised, beginning to tear away your new underwear from your body.

Pretty soon, your red panties were thrown aimlessly on the floor along with Maxwell's suit jacket and your winter coat and Maxwell wasted no time into latching his mouth onto your pussy. You practically screamed at the way his tongue worked within you, lapping up all your arousal like he hadn't had a decent meal in his life. "Hungry?" you joked breathlessly. Not in the mood, Maxwell didn't unattach his lips from you but he did insert two of his fingers without warning. You found yourself arching your back, moaning wantonly as he worked through your core. His groans as he sucked on your clit left vibrations rifle through your body as his fingers pounded inside of you. Obscene wet sounds echoed through his office as a result from his actions.

You dug your heels into his back and felt your legs start to shake uncontrollably as his movements became faster and more intense. His hands grabbed your thighs as he tried to steady you but it was barely any use. Seeing that you were close, he kept up his stamina until your climax ripped through your body, soaking his lips dripping down his chin. When he pulled away, you felt yourself blush at the state he was in. His hair had fallen out of place and his face was glistening with a mixture of his sweat and your juices.

Maxwell unclipped his gold cufflinks, tossing them on the floor and rolling up his sleeves to his elbows. Just as you were about to thank him, his hand reached over to the vibrator. "M-Max," you tried to protest as he flicked the switch. It began to buzz erratically and he spent a few moments accustoming himself to the different speeds and pressures. "Max." you wriggled, trying to sit up, but he pushed you back down, hushing you. The least he could do was wait until you had recovered from your first orgasm, but no. He pressed the vibrator to your clit casually and another gasp tore through you. "Max!" you yelled and he chuckled.

"I like this one." he grinned, adjusting the speed and watching you toss and turn on his desk.

"Fuck, Max," you yelped, your fingers curling into a fist as you began to feel that familiar warmth in your stomach signifying that you were close.

"Aw, you going to cum again?" Maxwell chuckled, turning up the speed to the highest setting. "Look at you, all spread out on my desk screaming my name."

Your vision became hazy and your eyes snapped shut as your orgasm hit you leaving you dizzy and panting. Maxwell shut off the vibrator and tossed it to one side. You groaned, holding your face in your hands as you came down your high. Maxwell stared at you, all messed up on his desk, and he couldn't rid himself of his smile.

You looked down to see his damage. "Oh Maxie," you whimpered, reaching your hands out when you saw the bulge stretching out his tailored pants. You sat upright and Maxwell gave you a small kiss on the head. "Let me help you." you whispered, moving your hands to his zipper but he swatted them away. You looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows as he tsked you. "Maxwell Lord denying head?" you scoffed, reaching back out to his pants. Your fingers only slightly brushed over his length but it was enough to make him shudder. He pushed you back into the oak desk for a third time.

"Stay." he commanded, his voice gruff as he ran his fingers through his hair and pushed his locks out of his face. His eyes were practically black as he examined you, pushing apart your legs and running his fingers along your dripping folds.

"Stop- teasing-" you growled, tossing your head back. "You- you've already got two orgasms out of me."

"And I know I can get one more." Maxwell snarled, unzipping his pants and pulling out his rock hard length. He collected the beads of his precum and rubbed it over his throbbing cock, just the gentlest of strokes almost pushing him over the edge.

You were too busy staring at the pretty gold pattern in the ceiling, a feeling of pure blissed out euphoria washed over your spent body, when you felt your boyfriend's cock push between your entrance. "How's this?" Maxwell grunted as he snapped his hips deep inside of you. "Could Bradley do this?"

You curled your hands into a fist as he thrust deep inside of you, repeating his movements hard and fast with no mercy. "Sh- shut upppp." you whined, grabbing onto his biceps as he pushed his body over yours to hit at a deeper angle. He laughed and pressed his hand into your throat once more.

"Ngh- so pretty," he cursed under his breath. You closed your eyes. "Look at me," he hissed, and you obliged as he proceeded to fuck the life out of you. "So good to me." he praised.

"Max," you wailed as his cock pressed into your sweet spot.

"Is that good for you?" he bit his lip, his fingers digging into your skin so hard you were sure it would leave marks.

"Mhmmm," You agreed. "Maxxxxx."

"Yeah baby?" the use of his little names for you only riled you on more and eventually he felt your walls squeeze around his cock as you came undone.

"I want you to cum in me," you begged, your eyes glossy and pleading as your final orgasm washed over you.

"Will you promise to me a good girl?" he asked you and you squirmed under his praise.

"I'm always a good girl," you breathed out. "Always good for you Maxie."

"Yeah," Maxwell moaned, and you felt his cock twitch inside of you. He pressed a sloppy kiss into your neck and pushed deep into you, biting his teeth into the skin of your jaw. With one final hard thrust he was spilling inside of you.

Maxwell steadied himself, his cock softening inside of you until eventually it slipped out. You moaned at the loss of the fullness and he shuddered, quickly tucking himself back into his pants and zipping himself up. It only took a few seconds for him to notice his cum leaking from your pussy. With shaky legs, he padded to the drawer under his desk, unlocking it and taking out some silk handkerchiefs. He opened your legs gently and began to clean you up with the utmost care and affection.

"How do you feel?" he whispered into the shell of your ear, discarding the handkerchief when he was finished. He helped you sit upright and pulled you onto his lap, smoothing out your hair.

"Tired," you whispered, nuzzling your face into his chest. He kissed your forehead and wrapped his arms around your practically naked body, his strong arms holding you still and steady.

"I get off in three hours, why don't you take a nap on my sofa and then we can go home together?" Maxwell suggested.

"Mmm," you smiled, closing your eyes. "Or I could just stay here. Like this? But oh- you have that meeting…" you sighed. You went to stand up but Maxwell's grip around you tightened.

"Darling, stay here," you cooed. "I can cancel the meeting. It is my company after all. Besides, I'd rather be here with you."

You felt yourself blush. "You know Maxie, I do love you. So much."

"I know," Maxwell answered, his voice unrecognisably soft. "I love you too." He didn't say those three words often, but you knew that deep down he meant it. He loved you. "Oh, and thanks for the surprise."

#maxwell lord #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord x reader #pedro pascal smut #max lord

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amethystpath-writes · 3 years

Text

P2 A Sculpture and Fate

Part 1 here

******

Briella had never run so quickly in her life. She didn’t care to look behind her to see if Vince followed; her mind was on one thing- her sword. Or, more accurately, her father’s sword which she stole before running. He wouldn’t have minded. Briella’s father was the one who told her to run for her own safety.

Did she know how to properly wield a sword? Well, no, but it couldn’t be that hard. And anyways, she knew how to fight normally. If she could disarm Vince, send his own sword flying, she could take advantage- hopefully. He would never expect her to be able to fight; most soldiers wouldn’t.

Why was Briella even bothering with the sword? She should run. But who was she to think Vince wouldn’t just follow her as soon as she made it out the door? Or, as soon as she got the sword. Vince didn’t say she would have preparation time if she found a sword before the thirty minutes were up. So, what was she to do? Briella didn’t trust that she would actually be able to disarm the man who hunted her. Could she convince him further not to kill her?

What would that reasoning look like? Vince was furious that Fate decided who he should be with. He hated the connection he felt because it was one he didn’t feel for himself. It was forced. So why shouldn’t Briella show him they could make it work? True, she wasn’t much a fan of Destiny, either, but she could learn to love a soldier. Most girls fancied them anyways, right? She would have preferred a girl soldier if any…either way. Vince was handsome and…and strong. Determined. A little hot-headed, but Briella could wean him towards a more delicate life.

Glancing behind her, Briella watched the door. Vince hadn’t stepped inside the doorframe, thankfully. She almost wished he would- that way she didn’t have to wait with a tight chest before proposing this idea. There was no way she would walk out of this building on her own, not knowing a predator was outside, waiting to pounce. How many minutes did Briella even have left?

As if on cue, Vince hollered from outside. “I am not so sure you are going to find a sword in time!”

Why not? The sword was in here somewhere. Even if Briella didn’t still plan to use it, she still wanted to understand this statement. She should have found the sword in this home already if it were here…Briella ran to the open doorway. “What did you do with- that’s unfair!”

Vince stood just paces away, an object glinting beneath his hands. A sword. Briella’s sword. “You are running out of time,” he said, and gestured to the sky with a twitch of the head. The sun was lowering.

“And what? Am I supposed to wrestle my sword out of your hands?”

His response was a wicked smile, one that churned what little contents lay in Briella’s stomach.

“Vulnerability, remember? You won’t- won’t be proving anything to Fate if I do not even have a weapon to fight with.” Vince must have stolen the weapon in her home before surprising her outside. “Actually, no. No, I want-” she squeaked as Vince raised his sword. The sharp edge was…too close to Briella’s neck. She took a step back, back, back until her backside met a wall within her home- if she could call it that. It was more of an emergency residence that was falling apart in the woods. The house wasn’t very comforting when she was backed into it by sword point.

“I am going to kill you- vulnerable or not. It was fun to watch Fate panic while it lasted, though. Should I begin a count-down?”

Briella felt very hot suddenly. Her face was warm in the cheeks, her ears heated, the blood rushed to her fingers which were splayed on the wall behind her. She thought about lifting a hand, gently pushing the sword away, but an image of her hand being impaled flashed across her mindful eyes. A plea escaped her lips at the thought of both her hand being pierced and the sword slashing the skin across her neck. “I want this to work,” she spewed and instantly squeezed her eyes shut. That probably didn’t help. “I know why- why you are…upset. You want to be in-” Briella drew in a breath as Vince pushed the blade further.

“There are those tears.”

Something round and warm touched Briella’s cheek. She dared to open her eyes, only to see Vince’s outstretched arm retreat. A drop of water glinted along the bottom of his finger before falling onto his tongue. “Salty. So you are human.”

“Of course, I’m human!” It was a whisper-shout. Fully yelling was too risky with a blade at her throat. She might just cut herself open if she did that. “W-we have common ground, Vince.”

“Sir Vince.”

“Right,” she said out of breath, “right.” Composing herself- at least as best she could, Briella continued, “We have common ground, Sir Vince. We are human- that’s all. We are two humans who can walk in different directions if we wish.” The sword dropped the size of a nail, causing Briella to gasp. Still, she continued. “We don’t- don’t have to see each other ever again. I can leave. I can leave my village, leave our lord’s region, even.”

“If you leave,” Vince said, “in any way at all, I want it to be permanently. And the only way that is guaranteed is if you are-”

“Dead,” Briella finished. “Why? I could have killed you the same that you want to kill me, but I didn’t. I ran, Vin”- don’t use his name- “I ran, okay?”

Vince’s throat bobbed. “You were going to come back.” Another bob. “I don’t want you to come back.”

Briella nodded, just barely, just enough that Vince could see she was listening and paying full attention. “Why? Do you think fate will stop pulling at you once I am dead?”

“Why wouldn’t it?” The sword shook in his hand. “By killing you, I sever the string that binds us.”

Briella argued, “No, it will only make it stronger. Destiny exists whether we want her to or not. My grandmother died in battle.” She swallowed as the sword on her neck continued to shake. It bit at her with every quiver. “My grandmother was killed and when she was, my grandfather walked- not rode- he walked to the field which she died on and he buried her. Every year since he has visited her.”

“What does that story matter? They were together. Of course, he would mourn her.” Even as Vince said it, the sword was dropping further, not enough that it wasn’t a threat, but enough that Briella knew she was getting somewhere.

“Because,” Briella explained, “they hated Fate, too. My grandmother nearly killed herself in order to escape it. My grandfather saved her life and in the moment he saved her, she realized Death was a worser fate than allowing herself to love who Fate assigned.” Her voice was growing stronger and stronger, less afraid of being murdered in cold blood. “I know it sounds like a silly story from the gods but…can’t we try to be normal, Vince?” This time he didn’t correct her. “I’m not saying you have to love me. What I am saying is that we should at least try to live life as openly as we can.” If nothing else- “If you kill me, you will feel an endless grief, one that cannot be vanquished by visiting the place you slayed me.”

The sword fell to the floor, and Briella released a heavy breath. She could almost cry. “Pack your things if you have any. The weapon is mine until I trust you not to kill me in vengeance.”

“Does that mean you have regrets?” Stupid, she thought to herself. Absolutely stupid. Why did she think asking a question like that after finally winning was a good idea?

“Don’t push it.” Vince laid the blade on his shoulder flatly. “We leave in five.”

******

Part 3 here

#NOT A PROMPT #request fill #continuation #gonna be honest I had no idea what was going to happen the entire time I was writing this.#medieval #medieval writing #medieval snippet #medieval story #knight #knight x village girl

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mor-beck-more-problems · 3 years

Text

Face Heel Turn || Morgan & Ben

TIMING: Current

LOCATION: UMWC

PARTIES: @professorbcampbell & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan and Ben face an unpleasant problem on campus and make a run for their lives.

(art credit @professorbcampbell)

With a sigh, Ben removed his glasses and slipped them into the soft travel case that he then tucked away into his attache case. Meetings. While he was sure that many of his colleagues despised such events, Ben had always thrived in them. There was nothing quite like watching the interdepartmental politics at work and he enjoyed giving the invisible strings that wrapped around his peers a gentle nudge from time to time. One of the other professors approached him, asking if he wanted to go for drinks with the others. “Ah, no thank you,” He said with a polite shake of his head, “I was hoping to talk to David- chair duties and all.” Ben gave a regretful smile before stepping to the side. To his great annoyance, Ben caught sight of David making a quick exit from the room, escaping one Morgan Beck. Of course it was her. She was the mousy looking thorn in his otherwise pristine working life. “Morgan!” He said with a hearty smile, “Wonderful to see you.”

Morgan didn’t need to have real magic to work her will. Lots of pagans didn’t have a mainline to the universe and did just fine. She could too. She could. And if her will was getting a real contract with real responsibilities, something worthy of settling into for a few years, maybe until she stopped being able to convince people about her age, then she would take any opportunity the universe presented to her to make it happen. Sometimes that opportunity was cornering the dean of the liberal arts and social sciences college after a meeting.

Unfortunately, the dean wasn’t having any of it.

“Not now,” he mumbled, sliding past her.

“I just noticed three deceased faculty from my department in the obituaries, sir, and rather than waste university resources looking across the country, it be to everyone’s credit to promote from within and--”

“Not now, girl.” He shook his head. “Building codes.”

It took Morgan several seconds to process what she’d heard, and another to decide that, no, she was not going to respond politely. But that time was more than enough for the dean to get away. Worse, it was time enough for Ben Campbell to get in her way. She fought herself not to sneer openly at him. “Hi, Ben,” she managed, her cheer thin and shrill. “Great seminar today, right? Just love those PD review sessions. Keeps it fresh!” She shouldered him out of her way, scampering out the room and toward the dean’s office as she said, “Woops! So sorry, Ben. But I really need to catch David for something.” And maybe consider reversing her new policy on violence. “So sorry! Tootles!” Surely, she thought, Ben would hate her enough to not try and follow.

It had been amusing, at the very least, to see the Dean completely brush of Beck. Ben didn’t let any emotion show on his face, pretending instead to be focused on trying to see where David went. But on the inside, he couldn’t help the smug, triumphant gloating wash over him. Served her right, for getting ideas beyond her position. She should keep her nose down, like any good adjunct would. Work hard, don’t bother people who clearly couldn’t give a shit about you, and make relationships. And the only relationships she’d made, as far as Ben could tell, were negative ones. Pathetic. “Oh yes, PD review, absolutely riveting.” He said with a good natured nod. Grunting as she shouldered him with more force than he would have expected out of such a tiny woman, Ben’s eyes followed her as she headed for the door. “Ah, you’re trying to talk to David as well? Wonderful, so am I. Co-chair duties. Quite a lot of work, but at the end of the day, it’s all worth it.” Ben said with a warm smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “What,” Exactly, “are you asking him about?”

Politeness kept Morgan from sprinting down the hall to the dean’s office, but determination kept her pace brisk and steady. “Oh, co-chair duties, of course. I bet you have lots to discuss and get approved. But so much of our paperwork is digital, right? I’m sure David would appreciate it so much more if you sent him a solid email with bullet points.” She walked a little faster. “I just need a few minutes with him alone to make a proposal for the english department. Plans for next semester, staffing, the usual problems this university seems to be facing. I’m sure you’ve got a hot date or somewhere else you’d rather be.” She skidded to the door and grabbed the handle. “But it was so nice running into you!” If she said it loud enough, he’d get the idea and leave, right?

Eyes narrowing as Morgan moved past him, Ben sucked in a breath and forced his face into a smile. Walking after her, his own long strides more than keeping up with her shorter ones, Ben shook his head. “I wish it was so simple. We’re meeting about recruitment for the prospective graduate students to the college. I need to hammer out some of the finer details with him that an email simply wouldn’t cover.” He said with a long suffering sigh. As Morgan explained what she was going after, Ben’s eyebrow arched. What exactly was Bitchy Beck up to? Staffing… they’d had quite a few deaths in the department-- nothing related to him, of course. But there had been some unexpected openings. With a laugh, Ben shook his head, “No dates for me, I’m a bit too busy for that.” As she pulled open the door, he followed quickly behind her. There was no way he was letting Morgan monopolize David’s time. “I’m sure Dave can pencil both of us in.”

“Aw, no someone special?” Morgan said, barely bothering to put on a guise of sympathy on her words. “That’s so sad. You should really do something about that, Ben. I mean, unless you’re aro in which case, friend dates are still a thing! In a place like this, you could die alone tomorrow.” And sometimes she wished he would. “And that would just be kinda sad and tragic, right?” She twisted the handle and swung open the door onto the dean, or who she thought was the dean, fumbling to open the window, not realizing it was sealed. This would have been enough to make her freeze in the doorway on its own, but by the desk, another dean writhed on the floor and clawed at the smooth fleshy plane that was once his face. The secretary was next to him, the skin around her sealed, lipless mouth already turning blue.

“Uh…” Morgan edged back until she stepped on Ben’s toes.

The dean who was not the dean whipped his head around to look at them. He opened his mouth.

The corner of his lips quirking with barely concealed irritation, Ben hurried after the woman. How could such a tiny thing be so quick? “No, no, not aromantic. Or asexual. I’m a very average American man, just with a busier than average work schedule. But, I might try to see someone, who knows.” He said, remembering that the Nichol’s woman had mentioned knowing Beck when she’d dropped by for that post lecture disaster. Just as he was about to mention that he was very interested in getting to know Erin better and, oh, did she happen to know her? What a coincidence, what a wonderful coincidence indeed--Morgan had already pulled open the door to the dean’s office without even the slightest decency to knock. And he was startled to see a pair of bodies writhing on the floor, their faces smooth, fleshy masks.

“Good Lord!” Ben swore, raising his arms instinctively to defend himself as the decidedly not-dean stood and screamed at them. The human lips split like seams and Ben could have sworn he saw circular rows of teeth lining the thing’s throat as it bellowed. His hands clasped over his ears at the harsh shriek and he stumbled backwards, not in fear but in pain. He’d seen demons do far worse than this, he’d done far worse than this himself. But, he was only human, after all. And without a weapon at his disposal, he could hardly do anything to protect himself. And, as irritating as Beck was, it wouldn’t do to explain how she’d been murdered as well. “Let’s get out of here!” He said, grabbing her by the shoulder and tugging her to the door as the dean moved with jerky, alien movements across the office towards them.

Several things happened at once before Morgan’s eyes: a very bright dangerous-looking something spewed out of Not-the-dean’s mouth and landed on the door next to her head, Ben pulled her away, and her confusion and panic erupted into a scream. She didn’t fight Ben. Not-the-dean had leapt to an open chair, landing on all fours and his toothy, four lipped mouth spread open again.

She started to run with Ben, but from the galloping thumps behind them, she could tell it was gaining. “Fucking fuck,” she hissed. She pulled back on Ben’s arm and made a sharp turn down the nearest hall. “You’re too slow!” Then again, so were her pumps. Morgan stopped long enough to kick them off, which so happened to be enough time for Not-the-dean to come bounding down the hall. He stopped just shy of the turn Morgan made and swiveled his head.

“If I carry you, are you gonna be a baby about it?” She asked.

The dean leapt for them, apparently determined. No time to find out. “Hold on tight, spider monkey,” she said. Then she swept her arm under his legs and went off with him.

The way the imposter’s face opened into a disgusting, peeling-apart mouth was enough to convince Ben that they needed to go post-haste, immediately, now. Scrambling out of the room, he sprinted down the hallway as quickly as he could and was startled to see Morgan was keeping pace with him? What? How could she possibly do that-- he wasn’t that old. But this tiny little thing was running alongside him, barely even winded from the effort. Turning an unexpectedly tight corner, the combination of his momentum and his considerable frame had him smacking into the side of the wall. Meanwhile, he could hear the loping sound of the creature echoing behind them.

“Carry me? I’m nearly 200--” Ben started but before he could finish his sentence, Morgan had already grabbed hold of him and was lifting him off the ground. And then, she began to run. Instinctively, Ben clung to her shoulders tightly, not wanting to fall off the woman’s thin frame. Gritting his teeth in irritation, he muttered, “Twilight? Really?” under his breath as Morgan sprinted his way through the hallways. As thoroughly emasculating as it was, to be packmuled out of danger by Beck of all people, there was a silver lining. Morgan had revealed herself to him. She was distinctly not human-- what breed of that, he had no idea-- but she was… unfortunately, a part of the true world.

Morgan managed to laugh wryly as she ran. “Got a problem with that, Bella?” Just a few more feet. It would be easier out in the open, right? Not-the-Dean thundered behind them, galloping the way no person should be able to. The air hissed, and Morgan heard something sizzling on her back and bubbling splatter on the wall beside her.

“Was that acid?” She wasn’t sure why she was alarmed. It wouldn’t do anything to her that couldn’t immediately be undone. But who liked getting acid thrown at them anyway? And there was still Ben in her arms, even if wiping away his face might be an improvement to his character. “Maybe duck your head!” They were almost out the hall. “And brace for impact!” If he was so tough, he shouldn’t mind her blasting through the double doors. Once outside they could split up, or double back and have it lose their trail that way.

Morgan barreled through the doors and into the purple evening, still running, until she crashed into the bike rack and fell over, dropping Ben and sprawling onto the ground.

“Yes.” Ben grunted emphatically, as he was jostled on the woman’s back rather roughly as they ran through the corridors. What the ever loving fuck was happening? What the hell was Morgan? Definitively not human, not human in the slightest. Unless she was moonlighting as some kind of bodybuilder or pro wrestler or something, but that seemed doubtful. But, he couldn’t dwell on this for very long as something hot, wet, and bubbling splashed against the wall next to them. Chancing a glance over, his face went pale as he saw bits of exposed concrete peeking through spots where acid had already begun to chew through the structure.

“Acid. Yes, yes, that was acid-- run faster, Beck!” He yelled, holding on tightly to the small woman’s shoulders. Twisting his head, he watched as the thing behind them was still hot in pursuit, barrelling after them on all fours. “What?” He asked, before turning back just in time to duck, though the crossbar of the door still caught the back of his head. He was seeing stars as Morgan barrelled out into the quad and spilled out on the ground when she slammed into the bike rack. Stunned, barely able to see, and head splitting with pain, Ben blindly scrambled backwards, wanting to put as much distance between him and the creature as possible.

For one terrible second, Morgan stayed on the ground. Too fast and she might be seen, identified for what she was, or else frighten Ben into telling enough people about her that she found herself hunted in her office one day. Too slow and it wouldn’t matter because Not-the-Dean and his acid was going to eat her. Ben was already moving beside her, getting up and far the fuck away. That was as good enough of a cue as any. Morgan jumped to her feet and kept running, past Ben and toward the nearest building. As she passed him she called, “You’re welcome! Don’t die!” Then she kept running, into the music building, then architecture, in and out praying that just this once the universe would bend her way and that she hadn’t been seen and she wasn’t a good enough target to be worth pursuing anyway. When she finally made it inside her car, she let herself take a beat and scan the horizon for signs of...whatever the hell she’d just seen. But it could look like anything, couldn’t it? One of the teenagers ambling toward the parking lot, the janitor pushing their cart into the next building, the MBAs strolling out in their suits. And she hadn’t even looked back, had she? Was Ben still alive? And what about the students, playing frisbee in the sunset and coming in for their late night classes and-- Morgan let her head hit the steering wheel and sighed. Too late to tie up loose ends now. She needed to go home, be grateful, and not think too hard about how bad she didn’t feel about Ben Campbell maybe losing his face.

Blinking the spots from his vision, Ben picked himself up to run from the creature that was still pursuing them-- him, he realized. Because as he was turning to dash away, he watched as Morgan scrambled past him, shouting such incredibly insightful advice as she left. Bitchy fucking Beck was going to leave him to die-- or worse, have his face ripped off and masqueraded around on some disgusting creature. “Lord!” He swore as he ran across the quad, his tie whipping behind him as he sprinted away. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yanking open the nearest building’s door, he fumbled to pull his lanyard from his pocket, his staff keycard in hand. The top floors here were barred to relevant staff and he had access, he could go up there. Running towards the staircase, Ben chanced a glance behind him and saw that the creature had shoved open the doors of the building. A fresh spray of acid was shot his direction and he let out a yelp before slipping into the staircase.

Taking the steps three at a time, Ben hurried up the spiraling staircase and waved his keycard frantically at the heavy metal door. Green lights flashed over the electronic lock and he threw himself inside, slamming the door behind him. Sore, tired, and breathing hard, Ben slumped against the door and listened for the creature. He could hear it tearing through the stairwell, screeching and raging as it ran. But, it didn’t seem to know where he was. And he was fine with that. As the monster’s screeches faded, Ben was at last able to relax and reflect on just what exactly had happened. His mind was putting together all the pieces, forming a very hazy, very concerning picture.

About three things, Ben was absolutely positive. First, Morgan wasn’t human. Second, there was a part of her, and he wasn’t sure how large this part of her was, that was fine with him being dead. And third, he unconditionally, irrevocably hated her.

#heel face turn #wr ben #wr chatzy #wr ben chatzy

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seungminotes · 4 years

Text

Necessary | Kim Seungmin

Warnings: 1.7k highschool au

A/N: I consider this to be the best thing I have ever written. I love Kim Seungmin, thank you.

Kim Seungmin was the last person you expected to be taking a lower level math class. Him being one of, if not the smartest student in your year, the only word you could possibly use to describe him was big brain. Yet there he was being seated next to your mathematically-disabled self, bright and early on a Monday morning, in a remedial math class.

Somehow you felt out of place now, as if you’d taken the wrong class, maybe there was some sort of even lower remedial math class where you actually belonged.

Seungmin had that effect on people. Though he wasn’t one to properly notice it. He made others feel inferior, but wasn’t one to take notice. He didn’t care about those around him anyway. A true tsundere, you often hear others call him. But you couldn’t tell if he was cold or just plain arrogant.

The way he sat next to you, with his perfect posture and head held high, and the way he didn’t even bid you a morning greeting, left quite a bad taste in your mouth.

How does one sit so properly and mannerly, yet doesn’t have the manners to acknowledge another’s existence?

Whatever, you decided, this wasn’t going to bother you, or get in the way of you getting better at math. This class wasn’t exactly the place you were used to either, but last year for whatever reason the numbers in your head jumbled around and you couldn’t pass a test to save your life. Now you were here, and you were determined to ace every test this year.

As if he had read your mind, Seungmin turned to you.

“You’re bad with numbers,” he said, no emotions displayed in his voice.

“Why else would I be here?”

He didn’t answer you, he just turned back towards the board, opening his notes and laying his head down on them.

You scoffed, there was no way you were going to fail a test in this class, your pride was going to make sure of it.

As time went on, you noticed Seungmin was not exactly happy about being in a lower math class that was obviously much too easy for him. You really wondered why he was here in the first place.

He never took notes, paid any attention, or even turned in the homework. You’d assume these bad habits were what landed him in this class in the first place.

The workload wasn’t even that bad, would it kill him to spare thirty minutes of his day to solve a few problems?

Despite this lazy lifestyle, Seungmin never received anything below a 100 on any test. Now that you envied.

Because even though you had made a promise to yourself and so far had kept it very well, you struggled to keep it that way. Studying until the wee hours of the night to make sure you could understand the subject with no problems at all, you lost sleep and just a bit of your sanity every time an exam was coming up.

This time was no different, only the restlessness was quite unbearable as you tried to stay awake in class. Your teacher’s droning voice did nothing to help and eventually your head slumped a little heavier on your arm, you had fallen asleep.

Falling asleep in this class was always a nightmare for you. Missing the information you desperately needed to make by in the course, you couldn’t understand how some students didn’t take notes, how did all the information possibly stay in their head.

When you had woken up, your teacher was just wiping down the board full of equations from the period. You looked down at your blank page of notes, regret and anxiety soon sinking in.

You could easily ask a friend for notes, it wasn’t that of a big deal to be honest. But taking in your own made sure you had everything, you couldn’t think of anyone who made sure to do the same.

The bell rang and it was time to go to your next class and you hurried to get your stuff packed up in time. As the boy next to you got up, you noticed he wasn’t sitting in his usual lecture position, head down and eyes closed. Today he had sat straight for whatever reason, and as he stood he pushed a stack of papers onto your side of the desk.

You hadn’t noticed at first, still wondering about his sitting position, but once he walked out of class, you looked down onto your table and inspected the overturned pages.

Considering you were most likely to be late soon, you just shoved the papers into your notebook and ran out of class.

It wasn’t until when you got home that you remembered the odd papers Seungmin had slid you after class and got your notebook out to examine them.

Turning them over you realized the boy you had once considered lazy and arrogant, took such detailed notes on today’s lesson that you could consider it a textbook guide.

His neat handwriting sprawled the paper elegantly and the pink highlighted titles accentuated the already sophisticated aesthetics of his notes. This was the type of organization you’d see on a study blog you only wished to emulate. On the margins he’d put a star next to things considered more complicated, and a happy face at the end of a concept, there were even slightly adorable doodles of a puppy’s face at the corner of one of the pages.

Seungmin never took notes. It was common knowledge. You’d never even seen the boy’s handwriting. Were these even his?

Deciding not to question further, you silently thanked the lord for such a gift. You’d have to thank Seungmin too, you thought.

That night you placed Seungmin’s aesthetic notes in a protective plastic and placed them in your binder. You studied them extensively and even rewrote them. He worded things much better than your teacher ever could. Everything was so simple. That night you could sleep peacefully.

Unbeknownst to you, Seungmin had taken a liking to you and your rather determined nature, something he wished he had when it came to studies, yet didn’t exactly need. Seeing you work so hard for a measly math class seemed pointless to him at first, but when he realized it was quite important to you, enough for you to lose sleep over, he discovered how much of a strong trait it was in you. It low-key made his heart squirm when he walked in to you reviewing notes before a test, or when you had set up your colored pens and highlighters in front of you before a lecture, or when you raised your hand when you genuinely didn’t understand something. Seungmin was deeply infatuated with you, but simply chose to ignore that. Seungmin never wasted his time on things he thought unnecessary. Yet that night he laid in bed, wondering for hours if you were awake and if you were, if you may have been looking at his words.

The next morning you woke up refreshed from a good night’s sleep and ready for school.

In class you placed the extra hot bun and a pink carton of strawberry milk on your seatmate’s desk as a small thank you, you had to repay him somehow. No matter what you had previously thought of him, he had in a way saved you.

You don’t think you had ever seen Seungmin smile. It was a slight and shy smile, but a smile nonetheless when he saw the cute little snack awaiting him on his side of the table. He knew it must have been you and it tugged his heartstrings quite hard, no one had ever really done this for him.

Still he didn’t look at you as he sat down, and he most likely wasn’t going to. You had to make the first move.

“Thank you,” you turned to him, holding out your hand in hopes of a friendly handshake.

Seungmin didn’t respond, though he did turn to face you wide-eyed with a straw stick in his mouth. His hand gently held the carton of strawberry milk and he didn’t make a move to reciprocate your friendly greeting.

You slowly pull your hand away.

“You can have them back, I don’t need them anymore,” you reach towards your binder to pull out the protected notes, but Seungmin finally does move, stopping your hand.

You eye him blankly, confused at his actions. He looks at you nervously before looking down.

“You can keep them,” his voice is firm yet soft and gentle.

Kim Seungmin is not cold or arrogant, you decide, he’s adorable.

You simply nod, absolutely dumbstruck by his change in nature.

Class starts and ends and though you promptly take your notes, you are considerably distracted by the actions of the quiet boy beside you. Today he placed his head down as usual, but his eyes were not closed, instead they traveled around the room, ever so often landing on you and halting.

As you and your classmates begin to put away their materials before the bell, you notice Seungmin softly spring up.

He takes out a pad of unused sticky notes from his bag and quickly scribbles his phone number and a puppy doodle on the pastel pink paper, hurriedly handing it your way as the bell rings.

Once again you look at the boy, eyes blank of emotion, only now his shy smile returns for a second time and he confidently reaches for your hand to put the sticky note in it himself.

“I think you’ll like these numbers more,” he slyly flirts.

“That was horrible,” you laugh at his rather unexpected words, making him flush a pleasant shade of pink.

Seungmin had never been one to flirt, heck he never even really spoke to girls, but he was definitely willing to make an exception. Because Seungmin never wasted his time on things he deemed unnecessary, but now it seemed that you were necessary in his eyes.

“Call me sometime?” His voice was smaller, much more reserved than his confidence outburst from before.

“My pleasure.” You beamed up at him.

And with that smile Seungmin could now guarantee that you were absolutely necessary.

#stray kids #seungmin #skz #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #seungmin imagines #seungmin fluff #seungmin blurbs #stray kids fluff #stray kids blurbs #skz fluff #skz scenarios #skz seungmin #kim seungmin

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whereflowersbloom · 4 years

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Shadows and thorns

Part VII

Do not tell lies save it’s absolutely necessary. This was something that John Constantine insisted upon, drilled into his protégée’s head from an early age. When Queen Arella passed away due to a difficult childbirth, but she insisted on delivering the babe in her womb, defying the odds. The least Constantine could do for the poor woman was stay true to this word and protect the child. A man is only as good as his word is what his old friend, Lord Giovanni Zatara would say. It was truth that bred honor, his honor was indeed questioned in some circumstances and honor was the greatest currency the men in the Azarath had. And Constantine trusted Rhachel heeded his words as her guardian, as he had raised her to fulfill duty with honor and pride.

He had his suspicious. She had grown particularly quiet. She engaged in hushed conversations with her new Lady-in-waiting when they think John is not looking. But he did not anticipated this event. The crown Prince of Nanda Parbat asked for her hand in marriage. John knows Rhachel is an old and untamed soul, gentle and fierce, both exist in her, she’s intelligent and fair-minded but he also knows she has much more to learn of the cruel world. He did what he had to do to ensure the safety of their beloved homeland.

"Are you planning to accept it?" She asked with anxiousness in her voice, breaking the glassy silence that formed around them. John kept striding furiously around the her chamber, his face is marred with worry lines. He hasn’t uttered a single word. He remained silent, fists clenched, trapped between two choices: Wallace West or Damian Al Ghul. The Prince of Shadows.

John Constantine stiffened a little, the expectancy in the air took him by surprise and once again, he couldn’t assimilate the events, how in the seven hells this happened on his watch, those amethyst eyes of hers were scrutinizing him silently. His protégée was a free spirit, with deep roots in Azarath, firmly planted and not easily uprooted, he had let her go one day but leave her here with those poisonous vipers. Observing Wallace West, the young Lord wasn’t attentive to his betrothed at all. He had not expected Rhachel’s blossoming relationship with the Crown Prince of Nanda Parbat. Not Westlands. That sly and proud child.

“How did it come to this? How did you two meet?” John’s strong voice rumbled between the four stone walls, and for a moment, she thought time stopped. Her future was in the air, whether John would break the betrothal to the West heir and accept Damian or refuse it. She wasn’t certain. But she sensed his agitation. Her guardian constantly said do not tell lies, but John didn’t understand what brutal honesty looked like. Not like she did. He had not felt a heart like Rhachel.

“Prince Damian?” Rhachel nervously licked her lips then asked softly. Constantine could see the wheels working in her mind, and he’s sure she considered for a solid minute, lying to him. Instead she simply shrugged her shoulders and attempted to sound casual. “We met a few times, and we danced at the feast.” She was falling for him when she saw him at the royal stables and whispered those words to her, when she asked her for a dance at the banquet; it was the first time she didn’t feel so alone in the world, and when they spoke, drowning in his velvety voice, professing his affection for her, she felt her legs go weak. Damian. Heat accumulated on her cheeks.

“You are to marry Wallace West, that’s was the arrangement.” Constantine took a deep breath and tried to reason with the young girl. Truly, he cared for her, he feared for her safety, her heart breaking, she was a gentle soul. Ra’s could use her powers for his personal advantage, for his own desire to conquer more lands. They were in such a particularly worrisome predicament, to say the least.

“What of my choices? Do I have no say in this?” She demanded boldly for the first time in years and regretted the words the instant she said them, but she had too much pride to take them back. She did know she had to marry Wallace West. She learned that in this world being a royal meant privileges but they came with inevitable obligations. A world where harsh realities knocked a little girl’s dreams of gallant knights out of her head and filled the aching emptiness with lessons about politics and duty. She had a kingdom to think about...but Damian had promised to find a solution.

John was looking at her the way he did when he discovered she had left the tower to play with Garfield at the market town. Lady Zatanna feigned innocence, she didn’t know about their little trip. It was a disapproving stare, filled with exasperation and just a hint of lividness. "Who you wed has always been my decision.”

Hot tears stung her eyes. She could not remain calm any longer. “Your decision?" She cries out, digging her nails into her palms so she wouldn't sob. She wished Lady Zatanna was there because she would never deny Rhachel’s happiness. "How can it be your decision when I am the one getting married? Shouldn't I be able to choose?” But you don’t her mind whispered. You are the last daughter of Azarath, yet what you want does not matter. It took her several beats to perceive how the gilt-wood dressing mirror was weekly shaking, her powers manifesting. She sat in the edge of the bed, a brief moment to collect her thoughts. Concentrate.

Constantine sighed as he sat next to her quietly. Bullocks, he would kill for more wine. He breathed in, filling his lungs with fresh air and exhaled slowly. “Love, you are my responsibility. You are the daughter I never had.” She was his daughter in many ways, not in the blood ties but in the one that mattered. The older man gazed affectionately at the young woman, she wasn’t a little girl anymore, counting in his head all the times she made his temper explode with her occurrences and rare disobedience, influenced by that servant boy, Garfield no doubt. How hard would be to say goodbye when the day comes.

“It’s not you. I don’t trust them.” John’s quiet for a beat, staring pensively at the dressing mirror. The Crown Prince seemed to be a good man, and word has never reached him of the man being nothing other than clever, an expert rider, a talented swordsman, and a beloved Royal. Ra’s however was another story, hearing to shocking and blood-curling tales about what he did to Lord Wayne. Rhachel would not share his unfortunate fate. No. He assured softly, cupping her chin in his hand. “I am simply advising you to choose wisely.” Frankly, no man was worthy of Rhachel. The mystic Azarathian flower that blooms once in hundred years.

“Then trust me, when I’m choosing Damian.” Rhachel spoke solemnly, sight fixed on him. John raised questioningly his brow at the absence of titles, absurd formalities in his humble opinion. But it made his chest tighten. Damian. Not Prince Damian. His fingertips traced her jawline in silence. He wondered if he could take the word of this Al Ghul prince. Zatanna would confirm it.

“You win, love.” Constantine conceded, shaking his head, then his strong arms surrounded her thin figure protectively. “Try not to destroy entirely Ahsan Manzil palace.” He teased, pinching her pale cheeks, an amused smirk on his lips and hers formed a lovely smile for him. Her tender orbs full of promising hope and intense emotion. She was happy. Beaming with pure joy.

"Princess Rhachel Al Ghul" She teased in a whisper, beginning to take a liking to it, and her guardian only laughed.

Notes: I have no idea when I’ll be able to finish this chapter because it’s filled with important conversations and a new character but here’s half of the chapter. Constantine and Raven 😩😩😩😭😭❤️

I apologize for taking such a long time but i have a lot to research and study for thus chapter and the future ones, but don’t worry there will be a damirae moment in the second part.

@alerialblu @chromium7sky @niahti @xaphrin @ravenfan1242 @barnowl48 @calixddm101706 @artemis20 @mangakabk @maxisanchez666 @bluuesunset

#damirae #shadows and thorns #demon birds #damian wayne #damian al ghul #raven roth #dick grayson #john constantine #teen titans #bruce wayne #ras al ghul #garfiend logan #zatanna zatara #wally west #batfamily #dc fandom #dc universe #royalty au

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tellywoodtrash · 3 years

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immj2 30+31.12.20 lbs

30.12.20

lmao ep starts off itself with vansh and kabir ka staring match.

vansh steady in first place, not having blinked for................ like 3 minutes now? this dude a fucking freak.

while riddhima gazes adoringly at him thinking bhagwaan ne mujhe itnaaaaaaaaaa achcha pati diya hai. pft. idk what the hell sins you did in your last life riddhima, to get a husband like this one in this life, but it had to be something reallllllllllll bad. like stealing from little orphans and kicking puppies or some shit.

thankfully dadi is here to put an end to this chutiyaapa.

countdown blah blah, no1 currrrrrrrrr.

itna pheeeeeeeeeenka happy new year. bhai-behen ho kya???

now we talking.

he just says some trite shit like new kahaani that will be remembered for ages blah blah and gives creepy looks. dude why can’t you be normal on oneeeee bloody day?

ahaana also giving random creepy looks seeing vansh/riddhima hugging. and she goes and............

i think i watch this show and rrahul a little too closely ki i instantly knew this isn’t his hand and thus it’s not vansh’s hand she’s holding.

yupppppppppp. bola tha na.

damn they make a hotass couple of shady bitches.

ok wow i’m really feeling it. wish kabir wasn’t a sociopath who is incapable of feeling attachment (“love” is too strong a word) for anyone but his mother.

lmao his reaction when ahaana tells him ki riddhima didn’t believe any of the pattiii she padaofied her about vansh.

ok but how do these two know each other??? matlab yeh le aaya hai issko? i thought vansh le aaya hoga?!!?

mereko kya kaunsa manhoos le aaya? i’m just here for the attractive ppl pressing their bodies up against each other. keep on keeping on, #KaHana

he’s warning her against ever double-crossing him and dude the angry/hate-sex vibes here are *~~~ExQuISiTe*~~~~

the way she’s confidently gazing at him all sexy tells me she’s a much more seasoned player than riddhima and i already love her more than the damn lead of the show.

damn. that’s a gnarly period you got riddhima. that’s an unusual amount of flow. go see a doctor about it, sis.

i’ve heard about ppl making art with menstrual blood and all, but this is fucking ridiculous.

anyway of course the dumbass goes investigating it. and got fucking attacked in the storeroom and SOMEONE HUNG HER UP. LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON IN THIS MESSED UP HOUSE DUDE????/ WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU STILLL LIVE HERE????

Chehra Appreciation Break

asadkjasldjlaskdjlsakjdlas the way he’s yelling for everyone and interrogating them of their whereabouts coz riddhima’s missing.

lmao ishani and ahaana’s reactions at this temper tantrum are fucking amazing.

dang what’s with the suuuuuper orange lower half of his face???? ugh. the foundation woes are back now that the beard’s growing back in.

anyway he went barrelling off to find her after some more chabaaya hua dhamkis at his fam. ahaana already regretting moving into this pagaal khaana.

this scene is so fucking disturbing to watch that i don’t even wanna fucking cap it. but she was legit getting HANGED and he managed to get there in the nick of time and save her.

how, you ask? BY SHOOTING AT THE ROPE, INSTEAD OF JUST.......... DOING SOMETHING NORMAL LIKE RUNNING AND PUTTING THE STOOL BACK UNDER HER FEET TO STABILIZE HER. THIS SHOW IS JUST FUCKING BATSHIT INSANE, MY LORD.

this poor girl, my god. i don’t think i’ve ever watched a tellywood FL be tortured to the extent that this one is on a daily basis. it’s fucking ridiculous. there’s no redemption for any of the raisinghanias at this point. she just needs to fucking leave (and file several domestic violence cases against each and every one of them, except dadi.)

anyway she tells him whatever went down today, starting from the period blood fiasco onwards and he’s........ vibrating in anger. cool i guess.

some promises and shit about how who ever did this will pay, time for “humaara khel” and .......... dude. you say this shit every single time. and nothing changes. i don’t give a fuck anymore about your stupid promises. move the fuck outta this hellhole with your wife if you really mean it.

seedha jaake ahaana ke sar pe bandook taan di. based on what evidence? only the Good Lord above knows, coz vansh and the writers sure don’t.

no literally based on what is he accusing her and pulling the trigger??????? idgi??????

almost shot her and is saying “riddhima pe kharonchh nahi aani chahiye, baat ishq aur vishwaas ki hai” and ahaana is giggling and literally what the fuck is going on i’m so confused.

ahaana saying wowwwww, you want revenge also, and she shouldn’t get hurt also.

MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!!!!!!!!! I KNEW IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE’S THE ONE WHO BROUGHT AHAANA IN!!!!!!!!!!!!

literally what the fuck is this dude on???? badla chahiye, par dard nahi hona chahiye. bhai, kya phoonk ke aaye ho, humein bhi toh thoda de do.

ok this is tooooo fucking convoluted a game. riddhima thinks kabir is the one attacking her. but it’s kabir + ahaana. kabir thinks ahaana is on his side and brought her into VR mansion, but ahaana is double agent who was actually planted in kabir’s nazar by vansh to fuck over BOTH kabir and riddhima. i think?????????

ahaana be like re devaaaaaa, what fucking madness have i gotten myself into????????????? the things i have to do for health insurance coverage during a pandemic.

———————————————————————

31.12.20

first 5 minutes is some new year ka naach gaana bs. fwding.

ok this fucker is a legit motherflipping crazy. he just wants to keep torturing riddhima for god knows how long.

even ahaana is alarmed.

did he do absolutely noooooo research after the cliff chhalaang? like....... this revenge shit is so dumb at this point, when he knows she brought in vihaan to stop kabir from ruining the family, and took a second fucking bullet for him?!?!?!?!?!?! they shouldn’t have written the second gunshot plot point, coz now he looks like a reallllllllll unappreciative fucker for whom literally no good deed is enough.

WHAT PYAAR AND VISHWAAS, FUCKER???????? LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?????? YOU’VE PLAYED THESE GAMES WITH HER FROM THE VERY START OF YOUR MARRIAGE AND MAYBE TOOK A BREAK FOR A WEEK OR TWO IN BETWEEN - WHEN SHE GOT SHOT THE FIRST TIME AND DURING ISHANI’S WEDDING. THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT??????/ LIKE.......... THIS MAKES NO BLOODY SENSE. THIS CHARACTER IS JUST SUCH A SUPREME DOUCHEBAG, MY GOD. THERE’S ABSOLUTELY NO REDEEMING HIM WHATSOEVER.

also can’t say rrahul’s extra chabaaaaa chabaaaaaaa ke bolna is making this enjoyable to watch at all.

all i wanna know is what ahaana has on him that he’s indebted to her and thought her worthy enough to join forces with. SPILL SPILL SPILL SPILL!!!!!!!!!!!! what does ahaana get outta all this?!!?!?!!!!!!

riddhima on the other hand running around wondering whom vansh is gonna murder. SIS YOU JUST GOT STRANGULATED CAN YOU SIT DOWN FOR A HOT SEC AND REST?!?!!?!?

ahaana is like bro you gonna ruin riddhima’s life, and he’s like yeah, that’s what i want. jesus christ, dude. just divorce her then. why prolong this shit out like this????? truly psychopathic.

riddhima hears his voice and heads to the pool area..........

............. isn’t that his shoulder there behind the tree? is she fucking blind???????? HOW CAN SHE NOT SEE HIS 7 FOOT TALL HULKING ASS BEHIND THAT PATLA SA JHAADI?????? HE’S LITERALLY THERE LIKE........

........... she left. god. she’s really really REALLY stupid. like pretty sure these crimes against her count as extraaaaaaaaa bad....... like, pick on someone with your own brain capacity, vansh? leave the simple minded sis alone!

the only gift that’s acceptable from you rn sir, is divorce papers. and a self-filed restraining order promising to stay 3 whole districts away.

yikes, that beard is notttttt growing in well.

“tum mujhe apne saare stress de do.” BITCH YOU’RE HER BIGGEST STRESS. ASSHOLE. I HATE YOU SO MUCH.

“tumse door jaake jaaonga kahaan? abhi toh bohut kuch baaki hai.” fucking dieeee, you psychopath.

lmaoooooooooooooooo her face when she doesn’t understand wtf this gift is supposed to be. i’ve been there sis. trying to fake enthusiasm for some reallllll bad gifts from men is truly painful.

also she’s so dang cute when they let her use her face properly!!!!!! har waqt bechaari ko bass rulaate rehte hain iss show mein.

one ainvayiiii gift ke bahaane some random cuteness.

sis gazing at him some more thinking omg he loves me soooooooo much.

she remembered ahaana’s warning, and is like no she was lying to me!!!!!!!!! stupid stupid stupiddddddd. no matter whoever planted her, you should believe that sister over your haraami misters. motive jo bhi ho, bol toh behen sach hi rahi thi.

yuck that looks ugly af. why the hell would you want that on your bedroom wall? esp. when your bedroom is already so goddamn fugly.

anyway he’s gaslighting her some more about ahaana blah blah.

riddhima like i’ll prove it. le, iska jee nahi bharaa. she wants to do more jasoosi and go get stuck in random traps that try to kill her.

vansh promising he’ll throw ahaana and her partners out if she can prove it. meaning you’ll........... throw yourself out?????

whatever man, idk and idc anymore what this fucker does. i’m just here for the faces.

threatening notes planted in all these ppl’s rooms. everyone instantly like OMG VANSHHHHHHHHHHH DID THISSSSS. lol coz who else does this chutiyaapa of leaving random messages around like this.

but nope. chachi saw riddhima’s earring lying there and knows it’s her.

isko bhi mila.

lmao kabir rueing the day he set eyes on riddhima coz jeena haraam kar rakha hai ladki ne.

riddhima like mwahahahahhaha they must have got my notes and now they’ll come attack me! behen, woh toh note ke bina bhi roz karte aaye hain...............

there. promptly got jumped.

surprise, surprise.

lol attitude toh dekho behen ka. wish she was the lead of the show instead of riddhima.

#ishq mein marjawan 2 #immj2 #immj2 lbs #episode liveblogs

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superthiccthighssavelives · 4 years

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Untitled Bath 🛁 Prompt

Sorry I’m late with this, as I promised it on Saturday, but it is done. I really hope you love it @alyss--in--wonderland <3

Emoji - Bath Prompt 🛁

It was my idea, all mine, mine alone, and now I regret it. So very badly.

I got the idea from watching an old sitcom, and figured I could do it, I could handle it. I was wrong, very, very, very wrong.

Taron and I were getting married in a month. A few weeks ago, I proposed said idea. He raised an eyebrow, put on that damn smirk and laughed. “Sure babe, sure, we’ll try it.”

“No, Taron, listen, we HAVE to do this. If I make any attempts, shut me down, tell me no, don’t let it happen.”

Another chuckle escaped him. “Alright, got it”

“Seriously, I want our wedding night to be special, and I know it will be either way, but this sounds like something that would enhance it.”

He stuck a spoonful of peanut butter into his mouth “Mmhmm”

I rolled my eyes, I hope he’d really listen. I tend to have poor self control when I am fixated on something I really want.

So this idea, ugh, as I’m sitting here, looking at him, wet, covered in tiny iridescent soap bubbles, I am realizing what an awful one it is.

He was having a soak, he’s been working out a lot for his next role, and obviously achy. I ran him a bubble bath to relax. I popped in to check on him, he looked so very calm. His body slack, head resting on the rounded edge, eyes closed.

“Relaxed yet?”

“Mmhmmmmmmm”

Again, my self control failed me, my clothes fell to the floor, and joined him.

He slid up, looking a little surprised.

“It just looked so warm and inviting, I couldn’t resist.”

I played with the bubbles, covering myself completely with them, watching him from the opposite end. His eyes were closed again, obviously avoiding me, and sticking to that ridiculous idea I had begged him to hold to. No sex again until our wedding night. Who does something so absurd? I mean, really, who willingly wants to torture themselves? The answer was me. At the time, it seemed legit, the feelings would build up, and when we finally joined again, it would be explosive, right? Yeah, at the time, now, not so much.

My hands wandered under the water to run them up his calves. He jerked a little, almost shooing my hand away. I changed positions, getting on my knees and crawling (what little I could in that tub) over to his side. My hormones took over, without any reluctance from the rest of my body, and placed myself on his lap. I didn’t get too close to where I really wanted to be, yet. His eyes popped open, narrowing them for a moment. He almost looked disappointed. And I probably will be, shortly. Right now, all I can think about is how good he looks, and how my body reacts to him.

My hands wrapped themselves around his neck, while his remained at either side of the tub. My eyes were focused on his lips, his pink, soft, warm lips. Goddamnit, I am so weak. My hands slipped down to his shoulders, letting them slide about, tracing lines with the suds. My gaze was still fixed below his eyes, I was almost afraid to look at him. The little bubbles were popping silently around us, but still plenty to cover us. My hands moved again, down to his neck, my thumbs coming to rest under the sides of his jaw, fingers gliding easily across his skin.

The overwhelming need to kiss him was consuming me. I came close, so close. I took the risk and peered into his eyes. He cocked his head, looking at me almost expressionless. I don’t know if it was my guilty conscience, or he really was disappointed, but I tried to block that from my brain. My body was getting more and more anxious. I don’t know how much more I can hold out.

He hasn’t said anything in a few minutes. He was still, seemingly unaffected by my advances. I wasn’t going to force anything, but, lord, I wanted to. Again, why did I think I could do this? I have absolutely no willpower. Well, when it comes to him that is. I’m typically really good at holding to most other things. But I digress.

My lower half took over, and slid a little closer inward. Still not close enough yet. I bit my lip, gazing at his again. Before I knew it, my mouth was on his, a gentle tiny kiss. The warmest, little, baby kiss. And another, and another. He didn’t budge, he didn’t move his lips, he was frozen there, resisting me like I asked him to. Where does he get this control from?

A subdued sigh escaped me. My brain went into overdrive, a million thoughts tangling up, trying to figure out how to get him to forget what I told him.

His neck was wet, droplets of water travelling down his flesh. I placed another delicate kiss there, another moving upward, another to his earlobe, using my teeth to tug softly on it.

“Baby.” I breathed, into his ear before placing another kiss. “Kiss me.”

“Please” came out in a whiny, breathy moan against his skin. “Touch me.”

His body held firm, but his hands, his hands were gripping the sides of the porcelain so tightly, his knuckles were turning white. “Taron.” my voice softened to almost a whisper, but still a laced with whiny tone. I was begging. My lips refused to leave any part of his skin. “I need you.”

I felt like this was some game, this refusal was making me even more turned on. I’m a terrible person.

My body writhed slightly, moving even closer so I was against him. I needed that friction, so, so bad.I peeled his hands away from the edges and wrapped them around me. Damnit, he’s too good at this. Maybe I should really stick to what I so adamantly wanted. But god, he felt so good against me. The pounding in my chest increased, I was starting to get a little crazy. Right now though, nothing mattered but this feeling. The absolute dripping, burning desire running through me.

I let my hands fall under the endless white bubbles and water to his thighs, running them so slowly up, further and further, avoiding going all out, to where I wanted. They landed on his chest, massaging and soothing as lightly as I could. The other side of his neck called to me and my lips, and teeth did not resist. Again, the softest and smallest of kisses were planted over every centimeter of him, my teeth dragging and nipping at his tender skin. My words breathed a lullaby in his ear, my moans getting more and more salacious. “Babyyyyy.” I gripped his hips and moved my mouth back to his. I pressed a little harder but still tender enough not to relay my irrevocable desire. I couldn’t resist faintly sucking on his bottom lip, feeling how warm and supple it was. His lips loosened slightly when mine returned to his neck, a tiny pleasured breath slipping out.

His hands remained around me, but still not giving me what I wanted, still inanimate and stationary. But, for a miniscule moment, I felt pressure against my back.

“Please baby, please, touch me” Those words were even more whiny than the last, purring against his still wet flesh, whispered and breathy.

In a swift moment, one of his hands was running up my neck, landing to grip a chunk of my hair, his lips slamming into mine with such force our breath was taken away. His other hand gripped my hip fiercely, his fingertips leaving marks from the pressure.

He pulled away, pulling my head back, moving to my neck, using his tongue to trace a moistened trail to my earlobe.

“Is this what you want?” His voice was raspy and hot in my ear, leaving me in shivers.

All I could do was let out a lamented cry.

“Hmm?” His lips were attacking me, every part of skin I had, drenched and aching for more.

He advanced back to my mouth, his tongue peeking out to taste me. His kisses gradually began building up, inhaling every breath I had, leaving me begging for more.

My body was aggressively thrusted into his, our chests against one another. I felt dizzied as he slipped inside me, the ecstasy overtaking me. The noises springing from him primal but soft, his breath loud and full of sensual euphoria. He moved slowly, deeper and deeper. My breasts were enveloped and caressed, both by hands and mouth. I felt like I was going to combust, this feeling was so fucking amazing. I missed his touch, his body, the way he makes me feel.

I don’t know how much longer I could endure, my whole being encased in exaltation. I felt high, light headed, dazed. I embraced his face, holding on tightly while my lips were drawn back to his. I moved, rolling my hips forward over and over, feeling him deeper with each sweep. The pressure was building, our kisses becoming more fervent, breathless, insistent. My hair still in his grasp, our foreheads resting on one another’s, our sounds filling the room. The water lapped in small waves, splashing quietly and delicately, the bubbles becoming non-existent.

“Taron, god.” I let out another lamented moan in between amatory breaths. “Don’t stop.”

He pressed harder into me, almost stilling my body, holding me in place. His impassioned clamours rising, becoming feverish. “You feel so, fuck, so good.”

My name poured off his lips in a delirious moan, keying me up even higher. It was the sexiest thing I had ever heard at that moment. Knowing what I could do to him, what he feels in these moments. His face scrunched up, he was trying so hard to hold back, not wanting this to end as much as I didn’t. His breaths became labored, uncontrollable, his fingertips pressing harder into my hips. My hair held tight, his body pulsating. I was starting to come undone, the peak getting closer. I wanted to let go, I wanted him to let go. “Baby, I can’t hold on” I could barely speak, my voice coming out in a hushed tone.

“Cum for me gorgeous.” was breathed across my lips. I could feel the fire spreading, slowly, scorching my insides. “You” was all I could get out before I burst. Time stopped, my head thrown back, feeling everything in slow motion. He released himself, giving in, biting my neck, and growling my name. I collapsed against his chest, trying to find my breath.

My hand traced lines on his chest, looking up at him through my eyelashes. I couldn’t help but grin, it was amazing. I placed another gentle, firm kiss on him, whispering how much I loved him. He brought me up to meet him, his lips falling back to meet mine. “I love you too.”

“Are you disappointed in me?”

He let out a quiet laugh. “Well…”

I pouted exaggeratedly. “I can’t help it, you’re just so irresistible.”

He tapped the end of my nose. “You just have poor self control.” and let out another laugh.

“Ok, while that may be true, you also failed, so, yeah.”

He shook his head, realizing I was right, of course. I needed to tone down that smugness, sometimes..

“So, no more until the wedding night, Right?” “I’m serious this time.”

He pulled away, standing up and stepping out of the water that left us a bit withered. Starting to walk away, without a towel, he turned back to face me, winking. “Sure.”

@linseykalynn @primaba11erina

#emoji prompt #bath prompt #fanfiction #taron egerton #taron egerton fic #taron egerton imagine #taron egerton x reader #taron x you #taron egerton oneshot #writing #writing prompt

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thedirtpreferences · 4 years

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PREFERENCE #18 - LINGERIE (REQUESTED)

Mick: He would say absolutely nothing, though his pupils would give him away seeing as they would dilate making his eyes black with lust. By no means was Mick a shy man, for Christ sake he got up in front of thousands of people to perform everyday of his life. What he was, however, was respectful. He never wanted to make you feel like he was objectifying you or treating you like you were a tasteless piece of meat. Furthermore, he made a very good point at always making sure you knew you were beautiful and gorgeous, not just sexy and hot. But right now, he was fighting for the right words to describe without being crude. “You’re being awfully quiet, Mickey. Do you not like the color?” Your words would be dripping with sex appeal, your face sultry and feigned with innocence as he gawked at you in horror. You looked like that and yet you were somehow afraid that he didn’t like the color? Surely you were joking. “The color, er, the color is just fine.” He would mumble trying his best to maintain eye contact with you as you pulled down your hair, shaking it so fell sensually over your shoulders. He nearly lost his bearings when you bit your lip and batted your eyes at him. “Just fine?” Pouting you walked over to his spot on the couch, pushing his chest so he was pressed firmly against it. “Mhm.” Mick mused, stifling his moan as you straddled him, your breasts now eye level with his face. “For some reason, I was under the impression that red was your favorite color on me. Perhaps, I’ve been mistaken. Oh, well.” Pretending to leave, you let out a squeak when Mick grabbed your wrists pulling you back down onto his lap forcefully. “So, you do like the red?” You would let out a breathless laugh, gasping as he flipped you over onto your back, hovering over you with a touch as light as a feather. Typical Mick; always so gentle. “I love the red. You look beautiful,” He would whisper at your ear, nipping it softly. “Beautiful? C’mon Mick, you can do better than that.” You pleaded, reaching your hand on his lower thigh, dangerously close to his progressively hardening member. “Would you like me to completely degrade you then?” Mick spoke with a perplexed look on his face, catching your hand as he brought it against his heaving chest. “Please.” You begged causing him to let out a groan as he nipped down your neck, his hands tangled tightly around your ragged locks of hair. “You have no idea what you just got yourself into,” He would laugh causing you to sigh in relief. You had finally awakened the inner freak in Mick and you couldn’t be happier.

Tommy: “C’mon, babe. You know the rules, you lost the bet.” Tommy would giggle knocking relentlessly on the bathroom door you had locked yourself in. A week ago, you had compromised with him: if he made it one week sober and well behaved, you would do anything he wanted for an entire day. In your head, you had expected making him grilled cheese sandwiches and letting him spend money on idle things while giving him frequent back rubs. Little did you know that the little devil was a secretly sex deprived animal. Furthermore, the moment he had showed up with the black lingerie set you had nearly choked on the water you were swallowing out of both fear and confusion. “I’m embarrassed.” You would groan examining yourself in the mirror with distaste. Everything about this screamed confident and lord knows you were anything but despite the endless hours of Tommy trying to plead with you. “You’ve got five seconds before I’m kicking that fucking door down,” Tommy threatened causing you to let out a sigh in defeat. You wouldn’t put it past him after all to do such a thing.

“5...4...-“

“I’m coming you idiot,”

“Not yet, you aren’t. Soon though..soon.”

Letting out a disgusted scoff, you would roll your eyes before finally unlocking the door and sauntering out with your head hung low. “Holy fuck.” Tommy would utter, instantly dropping to his knees pressing his head against your thigh. “Baby, if I stay sober for the rest of my life do you promise to wear this everyday for me? Oh, the things I’m gonna have to do to you tonight...” Pressing kisses to your inner thighs, his large hands gripping you tightly you would try to stifle the moan that bubbled to your lips, the lack of confidence slowly starting to dissipate with each gentle kiss. “Do you really like it?” You would ask genuinely curious, biting your lip sheepishly. “Oh, Y/N. Oh, baby. This is the best day of my fucking life.” Lifting you up so that you were hoisted over his shoulder, you would let out a loud squeal as he slammed you on the bed. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m about to fuck you for this whole 24 hours. You did promise after all,” His voice would be husky, a small groan slipping past his lips when you lifted you knee to press ever so slightly against his hard member. What an affect you had on him already? If you would have known this would have got him to behave by some lingerie and sex you would’ve volunteered a long time ago. “Your wish is my command, sir.”

Vince: You would clear your throat a couple of times, recieving no reaction from him whatsoever as he wrote in his office. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you would finally say something a little less on the romantic side but bold enough to get his attention. “Hey, idiot. Do you want to bang me or not? Kinda going out on a limb here.” His head would snap up the moment he heard ‘bang’. Oggling you for a second, Vince would surprise you by dropping his pen, dipping his head back, and letting out a boisterous, hysterical bellow. “Hey, shut up. I spent a lot of money on this,” You woud pout, crossing your arms across your chest and stamping your foot. “You look so fucking sexy, I just, I wasn’t expecting it. It’s so out of character.” Wiping the forming tears from his eyes, Vince would beckon you over with an outstretched hand, pushing himself from the desk in his rolling office chair. “Get over here, you little minx.” He would chuckle, wrapping his arms around you as you awkwardly straddled his body. “Mind telling me what this is about?” He would inquire, kissing your collarbone with vehemence. “I...Okay. I see the kind of girls that throw themselves at you. I’ve seen the girls in your videos. I didn’t know if you preferred this over, well, how I usually look is all.” It was if a light switch flipped in his head as he tilted his head back and let out a small ‘oh’. How could you think that? Had he seriously let you down that much as a boyfriend? “You’re absolutely crazy. You know why we choose to feature those girls? For the aesthetic. You know why our fans look the way they do? Because they want our attention. You, however, already have my attention. I love the way you dress, the way you look, the way you are. So, please, Y/N, don’t change yourself for that. Because I love you for who you are, not what your clothes say about you.” You cheeks would turn bright red as you looked down in sheer embarrassment. To say the least you were relieved, it had taken you twenty minutes to learn how to get it on anyways plus it was so extremely uncomfortable you could cry just from that. “Plus, I’d much rather see you with nothing on.” He would purr in your ear as his hands reached around to unclasp the lacy bra. “You did that far too easily,” You would say accusingly, your eyes narrowing as he pressed kisses down your chest. “Wait till you see what comes next,”

Nikki: For once, Nikki was speechless. Out of all the women he had been with, all the horrible, naughty things he had done, he had never felt so hot and bothered in his life. For, there stood his sweet, unassuming girlfriend clad in nothing but leather and lace, her body displayed in a way he had never seen it look before. He was in awe, but more importantly he was overwhelmed with lust. Furthermore, it took everything in his willpower not to tear each article of clothing off with his teeth as he gazed at her. She was irristable, practically begging to have his hands on every inch of her body. Was he actually salivating? “Happy Birthday, baby. You can open your gift now.” Oh, yeah. He had forgotten about the small box sitting in his lap until you had reminded him that it was there. By that point, however, he could have cared less about some meager gift even if it did come from you. You were the only thing that consumed his brain in this particular moment in time. Especially looking like that. Reaching toward you instinctively, you slapped his hand hard enough to make it sting. “No touching till you open that. Trust me. You’re gonna wanna see that before we begin,” Nikki felt like a child who was being told to eat their vegtables before dessert, but still he obliged because god damn he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you even if you were being bossy. Throwing open the top of the box, he would let out a low, drawn out moan examining the best gift he had probably ever recieved: a golden pair of handcuffs. He oggled at them for a moment, his mouth slightly ajar before meeting your desperate gaze. You had thrown your arms up in the air in an ‘X’ signalling him to chain you up. Nikki couldn’t leave his seat fast enough. “You are going to regret making me want you this badly.” Nikki had snapped the handcuffs on you instantly, tugging down the thong you were wearing in one swift motion, licking your naval and working his way down. “Good.” You would state simply, grinning as he looked up at you with stars in his eyes, lust and need practically oozing from his pores. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He would mumble against you, your head leaning back from his hot breath being so close to the area you needed him at the most. “No, but you can prove it.” After you spoke those words, there wasn’t much talking after that; however, he definitely proved to you that he loved you in many, many ways.

(I’ve never really done anything like this before, so hopefully it doesn’t suck)

#nikki sixx #colson baker #daniel webber #douglas booth #iwan rheon #the dirt #motley crue the d #the dirt motley crue #vince neil #tommy lee #mick mars #the dirt blurb #the dirt blurbs #the dirt imagine #the dirt fanfic #the dirt fanfiction #motley crue imagine #motley crue blurb #motley crue blurbs

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lilacasia · 3 years

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[ voicelines ]

hello — welcome to my clinic , i’m dr. casia vincent , casia is just fine . . . no need for the intimidating title , let’s start off with being friends and get more comfortable with each other.

good morning — have you had breakfast ?? no ?? let me make you some , come , sit . don’t be shy !! i like having guests over for a meal !!

good afternoon — have you ever had the pleasure of having afternoon tea in the clearing near here ?? it’s absolutely blissful , enjoying the scenery with a cup of tea and sweet treats , it really refreshes the mind

good evening — the day just flew by , where does the time go ?? there’s still so much to do , but not enough time to do them !! sometimes i wish there were multiples of me . i wonder if that’s possible to do

good night — beauty sleep is real and it’s important for your skin and your health !! it’s no joke , sleeping eight hours will do wonders for your body !!

chat ( idleness ) — hmm . . .i wonder if i might be able to make a wound freezing agent . . . maybe if i mix it with slime condensate . . . interesting . . . i need to look into this more

chat ( traveling ) — it’s hard , but for the sake of gathering materials and finding new resources , it’s worth it in the end . . . plus , i get to see new sights every time !!

chat ( research ) — i’m trying to come up with efficient and easy-to-use potions and remedies for people to use . . . ones that people can easily access and even make themselves for times when doctors cannot be reached

when it rains — goodness , i guess our plans have to be postponed until a later time . . . as much as i enjoy a good dousing of rain , getting sick is not that fun .

when the sun is out — beautiful !! today’s the perfect day to go for a stroll and maybe even a tea break in the forest .

when it’s windy — heavens above , someone must have peeved the lord of wind . . . let us be careful on our way today , it’s hard to tell what sort of things we may come across .

about casia ( schooling ) — i was mostly homeschooled until the age of 16 when my vision appeared . . . that was when my parents and i discussed receiving official schooling to learn how to use my vision properly and to further my knowledge .

about casia ( career ) — i became a doctor , not only because my parents were , but because i also enjoy helping people . . . i want them to be a better version of themselves , it brings me joy to know that i can help people live to the fullest .

about casia ( fashion ) — i always find it so interesting how people dress in different regions . . . i unfortunately have yet to come across those from inazuma and snezhnaya , but i do wish to know how they dress over there , what the current style is like . i wonder if it’s like the trends here .

about us ( potions ) — here , let me teach you how to make this potion without wasting a lot of resources , you’ll thank me later . it’s really simple , come closer .

about us ( plants ) — these plants here are edible , if you’re ever hungry , give them a wash and eat them . it’s not much , but it’s better than starving and running out energy . . . don’t put yourself in danger , even if it’s just some plants , it’ll give you a boost until you can find proper food .

about the vision — a gift ?? i’m not really sure how to explain how i feel , but perhaps it’s a driving factor in wanting to better myself . had i not received a vision , i would not have found myself so driven to use my ability for something and explore the world .

anything to share — i know you already have a companion , but if i may be so bold and ask . . . would you mind if i accompanied you on your next trip ?? i’d be honored if you’d allow me , i promise i won’t be a burden !!

interesting things — if you’re looking for a refreshing tea , take some mint and some sweet flowers , grind them together and steep them in hot water for a few minutes . add a bit of honey and voila , you have a sweet and minty tea that’s good for the palate !! it tastes good cold as well !!

about albedo [ @likepyrite ] — a bold , bold man !! he has definitely swayed my heart with his upfront confession , he has me anticipating to hear and see more from him !! aside from that , i respect him as a fellow alchemist and scholar , i’m often amazed by the work he’s put out .

about vlad [ @dayguard ] — my . . . one night hero ?? people haven’t had the greatest opinions about the fatui , but they are people with feelings . i’m less surprised that a fatui saved me than i am surprised that someone stepped in to help . i hope people understand that the people in the fatui aren’t . . . bad .

about terry [ @spitefulgames ] — a sweet and gentle boy . whoever hurt him and left him in the forest needs to answer for their crimes . he’s been a great help , i just wish he’d stop feeling as if he owes me something . . . i did what i did because i wanted to , not because i was expecting something in return . now . . . the other side of him . . . [ nervous laugh ] i’m not quite sure how to feel about him .

about sucrose [ @naturalisstatera ] — sucrose is hardworking and dedicated , i can see why sir albedo took her on as an apprentice . she’s got a curious nature and is willing to explore . i can’t wait to see what sort of research she brings to the table .

about york [ @warblissed ] — the only person i’ve met that finds being in an emergency room romantic . . . truly , york needs to find a better definition of romantic , or archons save his soul , he’s going to get dumped . . .

more about casia [ i ] — i grew up in a small farming region on the edge of mondstadt , my family has a long history of being physicians and herbologists so we were kind of unofficially dubbed as the local hospital . . . we have many patients from nearby villages come for our help

more about casia [ ii ] — hm ?? why do i keep looking . . . ah . . . you caught me . i’m just appreciating that gentleman’s fine physique , it’s quite a beauty to see . he’s quite handsome too !! what a treat for my tired eyes , i feel absolutely refreshed just by watching him move !!

more about casia [ iii ] — why didn’t i go home after i finished school and opened my own clinic instead ?? well , they have enough help at home already . . . they don’t need me to crowd them . plus , my clinic is now closer to the library at the favonius headquarters so i have access to plenty of reading materials .

hobbies — i enjoy making my own makeup and perfume . . . all natural and in very pretty shades . it’s a huge trial and error process , but that’s the fun in it . some ingredients are harder to acquire , but the result makes it worth it .

troubles — i just can’t seem to find a set of earrings that match this outfit !! and even more , now i have to redo my makeup . . . there’s just not enough time to put together a good looking outfit for the day . . . how upsetting .

favorite foods — i prefer balanced meals , nothing too salty nor spicy nor sweet . . . a meal with dessert !! i’m not picky about food !!

least favorite foods — not picky at all , i’ll eat anything that is edible and filling !!

birthday — oh darling !! it’s your birthday ?? why didn’t you say so ?? come , come . . . i’m gonna get you all dressed up then we’ll have a night in town , everything’s on me tonight !!

feelings about ascension ( intro ) — wow , i didn’t know i could do even more with my powers

feelings about ascension ( building up ) — now i’m giddy to learn what else i can do !! show me more !!

feelings about ascension ( climax ) — so this is what it means to be a better you . . . amazing , i feel like i’m constantly evolving !!

feelings about ascension ( conclusion ) — incredible , just when i thought i knew my abilities , you have shown me a whole new world !! please !! do go on , i wish to learn more !!

battle and exploration

added to party — you won’t regret it !! / i’m excited !!

elemental skill — watch this !!

elemental burst — don’t take your eyes off of me !!

idle — same as chat lines above

dash — watch out for the mud , these shoes are new !!

gliding — oh dear , i really hope this doesn’t mess up my hair

damage — ugh !! how rude !!

knocked out — i was too hasty / i hope i have enough potions to heal

#( trivia. )#( long post. )

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malibvnghts · 3 years

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