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keerysfreckles · 4 months

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coming of age — MV1

pairing: max verstappen x fem!driver!reader

summary: in which a silly bet between the two redbull drivers becomes a reality when y/n wins the first race of the 2024 season.

warnings: not proofread, sorry for spelling mistakes!!

a/n: LET ME COOK ‼️‼️

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

ever since y/n l/n joined f1 in 2019, joining her best friends, lando norris, alex albon and george russell, her life flipped upside down.

she's been in four teams since her debut. she started in mclaren with lando in 2019, then got told the news carlos sainz would be taking her seat in 2020.

she then got moved to williams, which proved she deserved to be in a better car. she excelled as best she could with what she was given, securing the 10th spot in the drivers championship. but she wanted more.

so for the next two years y/n joined ferrari, alongside one of her formula one idols, charles leclerc. both ferrari drivers proved they earned their spots every year, until y/n got into a crash during an australian free practice. to put it lightly, she was forced to use crutches for the rest of the 2022 season. therefore at the end of 2022, she was told carlos would replace her for the upcoming years.

january 2023 rolls around, and y/n still didn't have a seat. however, a certain redbull driver had his eyes on her ever since she joined, watching as she made her way up the fornula one ladder. climbing each step in order to get to the podium, but not a win. the driver believed if she worked at redbull, she'd get that long awaited win.

so max verstappen had a plan. he spent the whole week trying his best to convince christian horner to take y/n in for the 2023 season. they needed a second driver anyway, and needed to announce it as soon as possible.

after days of constantly bothering the team principal, it was finally announced to the world that y/n would be joining redbull under a multi-year contract.

to say y/n excelled in redbull the past year would be an understatement. y/n was proudly on the podium nineteen out of the twenty-three races held. so close to the win, but always settling for second and third place.

y/n was done settling. she knew 2024 was going to be her year, and the pre season training was already going more than smoothly. both her and max were the fastest on track every day, with merely seconds between them.

from her first day in the redbull car, y/n and max had a bet going on; if y/n could win whatever race they were participating in that weekend, she'd have to kiss max. it started out as a small joke, but y/n couldn't help but wonder what max's lips would feel like on hers. would it be a quick kiss? or something more? all questions that wouldn't be answered until she won, and she was trying to do that here in bahrain.

it was a redbull front row, making the start of the race easy for both drivers. both pit stops went by smoothly, and their strategies were working wonders.

with only five laps to go, her race engineer spoke into her ear pieces.

"pace is still good, max is in front with 1.3 second gap," john spoke calmly, watching through the screens from the pit wall.

y/n replies shortly, before focusing back on the task at hand. every single race she's wanted to beat max, but this time felt much more real. maybe there was more adrenaline from the crowd, or maybe the car was going faster this year. whatever it was, she wouldn't know.

"gap .9 now, drs is enabled."

y/n pressed a button in response, turning on her drs as she passed down the straight. the muffled screams from the outside world seemed to get louder and louder as she got closer to the rear of max's car.

if she blinked, she would've missed the moment she finally over took her teammate. for a second, even she was confused.

"did we just pass max?" she asked john, her voice shaking slightly.

john chuckles into the microphone, "you did my dear. only two laps to go now, keep the pace."

y/n did as instructed. the world around her went quiet again as she saw the checkered flag, only a few feet away from her.

"y/n l/n wins her very first formula one grand prix! she wins in bahrain, making it a redbull 1-2 this evening!"

y/n instantly screams into her helmet, hearing the laughs and shouts from the pit wall and redbull crew coming out of the garage.

she slowed down for a cool down lap, waving and pumping her fist as she drove by the grand stands. max drove besider her now, giving her a thumbs up. he could practically hear the girls laughter and cheers from his own car.

y/n wasn't sure when the tears started to flow, but she kept wiping her face after taking her helmet off. as soon as she weighed in, she was running to the redbull crew waiting for her behind the barricades.

she yelled before being lifted into the air by the sea of navy blue. y/n was on cloud nine as she was being set back down onto the ground.

christian was waiting just outside the barricade, with his arms wide open.

"you stinker! i knew this day would come," he congratulates the girl, enveloping her in a warm hug.

the smile never leaves her face as the drivers come to congratulate her. max gives her a hug first, and y/n can't tell if he kissed her temple, or if she was just imagining it with all the adrenaline coursing through her.

lando was next, considering he got third, he was already waiting for her once he parked his car. he spun her off the ground, when the other 2019 rookies came running up to the pair.

a cameraman patted lando on the shoulder, gesturing for them to lift y/n up. he complied, as the three boys somehow lifted y/n onto their shoulders, posing as the shutters of the camera went off.

carlos and charles congratulated her next, both telling her how proud they were of her.

finally being able to sit in the middle seat in the cool down room felt unreal for y/n. putting on the winner's hat was more than enough, but sitting in between lando and max sealed the deal.

lando got to the podium first, with the mclaren crew cheering him on from the ground.

max was next, still with a big smile on his face, despite not winning the race.

finally y/n emerged from around the corner. y/n's heart swelled as the crowd below her cheered louder than anyone has ever heard it before. lando and max both held out their hands for high fives as she stood on the top of the podium.

she couldn't control the smile on her face as she recieved your first medal, and first formula one trophy. as anyone else wouldve done, she held the trophy low to the ground as the crowd below started to roar. once she lifted it above her head the crowd went wild once again.

she watched proudly as max and lando were handed their trophies, lifting them above their heads as well.

y/n basked in the bahrain sunset as the national anthem of her country played through the speakers. shortly after the austrian anthem played, while both her and max looked down to their team in awe. neither of them would be where they are today without them.

not even a second passes after the austrian anthem is over, and max and lando are ambusing y/n with their champagne. she laughs and screams as the cold alcohol sprays down her racing suit. she tries her best to spray max and lando, but can't help but continue wiping her eyes as a mix of tears and champagne fall down her cheeks.

as y/n's still wiping her eyes and the champagne in the bottles is almost empty, max takes her chin softly in his hand. she looks up at him, her heart starting to race again once she realized what her win means in terms of the silly bet the two drivers have.

y/n would've gladly payed a thousand dollars to see the look on everyone's face when max pulled her lips to his. still with her champagne bottle in one hand, she grabs onto max's bicep. making her realize he's really here and kissing her, and to keep her on her feet.

lando was the most caught off gaurd. he turned just in time after leaning down to grab his trophy. his eyes went wide as he watched the two redbu drivers.

the redbull crew all cheered, all silently hoping this moment would happen. they all knew about the longing glances between drivers, and how they got along so quickly when y/n first joined the team.

"finally a race winner," max mumbles against the top of y/n's head, kissing her hair. he wraps his arm around her as the two begin to walk out of the champagne covered platform. she waits for lando, pausing her and max's movements. once lando's by her side, she walks with both of them. her smile still never leaves.

after getting a group picture and video with the redbull crew, and probably taking a million pictures to post on the teams social media platforms, y/n and max go to their drivers rooms.

y/n facetimes her parents quickly, knowing how early in the morning it is for them.

finally changing into dry and much more comfortable clothes, a knock interrupts her thoughts.

"race winner looks good on you," max smiles after closing the door behind him.

y/n can't help but laugh, her smile growing once again.

"i can't believe it finally happened," she shakes her head. max sits on her sofa, watching as she packs her backpack.

"we all knew it would happen, it was just a matter of when," max states, causing a small blush to adorn y/n's cheeks.

"i hope you know i'm more than proud of you," max admits, fiddling with his fingers in his lap.

y/n zips her bag, not looking at the dutchman next to her, "yeah, the whole team seemed so." she laughs again at the thought of how happy the redbull garage was for the girl.

max chuckles, "no y/n, i'm saying i'm more than proud of you." he looks up at her now, meeting her eyes.

"thank you max," she smiles again.

before he can contemplate his own thoughts any further, he stands to walk out of the room. he rubs his hand on y/n's shoulder before exiting, "i'll be right out, so we can walk out together, yeah?"

y/n's lucky to catch max's attention just as his hand grabs the door handle.

"i'm surprised you stayed with your word, and kissed me today," y/n turns to face max.

he turns as well, still leaving a fair amount of space between the two of them.

he shrugs and y/n doesn't miss the slight blush on his cheeks, "well yeah, a bet's a bet. no one can back out of one."

y/n takes a few steps forward. the confidence could've been from the dying adrenaline, but whatever it was from, she was going to use it.

"so if it weren't for the bet, you wouldn't have kissed me?"

max chuckles, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. a stutter becoming more prominent between every word, "no, no i mean if it were a right time i would've kissed you. i just wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable, yeah?"

he continues stumbling over his words, causing the girl in front of him to giggle. his heart bursts at the sound.

"are you just going to stand there while i make a fool out of myself?" he asks, out of breath from rambling. his hands fall to his sides.

"i could," y/n states, watching max's smile falter slightly. "or i could just kiss you."

before max could get a proper response out, y/n leans up to press her lips against his for the second time that night. his hands instantly find their way to her waist, as hers hold both sides of his face.

"so if i won a race earlier, would i still have gotten a kiss?" y/n asks, just centimeters away from max's lips.

"screw just a kiss, we would've been a couple a whole lot sooner."

max cuts off y/n's giggle with another kiss.

the second kiss of many between the drivers.

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pucksandpower · 8 months

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Lessons in Anatomy

Charles Leclerc x medical student!Reader

Summary: studying can be hard … good thing your boyfriend is more than happy to let you get some hands-on experience

You let out a heavy sigh as you flip through the anatomy textbook in front of you. As a first year medical student, you’ve been spending most late nights recently trying to memorize every muscle, nerve, and blood vessel in the human body.

Lately you’ve been completely absorbed in learning about the upper limbs — the shoulders, arms, hands and fingers — and it’s all starting to blend together.

Closing the textbook, you stand up and stretch your arms above your head, feeling the pull in your deltoids and biceps. You’ve read so much about the muscles, it might help to actually palpate and feel where they are on your own body.

You lift your right arm out to the side until it’s parallel with the floor, palm facing down. Gently, you place your left hand on your right deltoid and feel the round contour of the muscle. You trace your fingertips along the borders, visualizing how the muscle attaches on the humerus bone.

“What are you doing?”

You jump at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice behind you. Lost in thought, you didn’t hear him come home.

“Oh, I’m just, uh, palpating my deltoid muscle,” you say sheepishly as you drop your arm back to your side. “Trying to get a feel for where the muscles actually are.”

Charles grins, his bright green eyes twinkling with amusement at finding you in such an odd pose. “My talented girlfriend, always studying so hard,” he says.

You can’t help but smile back at him. The two of you met in school years ago, long before Charles became an F1 driver and your life became a whirlwind of travel, media attention, and hardly getting to see each other when coupled with your own studies. Moments like this — relaxed, easy, normal — have become few and far between.

Charles walks over to you and surprises you by taking your hand and placing it onto his upper arm.

“Here, feel mine instead so you don’t have to contort yourself,” he offers. “I’ll be your anatomy model.”

You laugh lightly and begin palpating the hard, defined muscles of his arm through his thin t-shirt. You locate the boundaries of his deltoid, impressed by the athletic development.

“Very nice delts,” you say teasingly.

“Why thank you, I work out sometimes,” Charles replies with a cheeky wink.

You roll your eyes but can’t hide your smile. His playful arrogance is one of the things you love most about him.

Slowly, you map out the contours of his shoulder, mentally labeling the muscles — supraspinatus, infraspinatus, teres minor. Charles watches your focused expression with affection.

“How’s it going so far?” He asks. “Am I a good model?”

“Mmhmm,” you murmur absently, engrossed in your exploration.

You move down his arm, wrapping your hands gently around his biceps. You note the two distinct heads of the muscle.

“Can you flex for me?” You ask professionally.

Charles obliges, flexing his bicep and causing it to bulge up under your hands.

“Excellent, thank you,” you say, impressed by the muscle definition. Your fingers drift down his arm to his forearm, tracing the brachioradialis.

You are hyperaware of Charles’ eyes following your every movement. There’s an intimacy to having your hands on him like this that makes your heart beat faster. You try to remain focused, but with him standing so close, his warmth radiating onto you, it’s difficult to think clinically.

When you take his hand in yours, turning it palm up to examine the tendons along his wrist and fingers, you’re struck by its elegant beauty.

His hands may spend most days encased in racing gloves, but they still hold such graceful strength and capability. You find yourself tenderly tracing along the lines of his palm, the indentation at the base of each finger.

You look up to see Charles watching you, his expression soft and affectionate. Impulsively, you lift his hand to your lips and place a kiss along his knuckles. His eyes widen slightly in surprise before he smiles.

“I don’t think that’s part of the medical curriculum,” he says, his voice low.

You grin. “Just conducting some independent research.”

Charles lifts his other hand to lightly trace his fingertips along your jawline, leaving a trail of tingles along your skin.

“Well in that case, I think you need to continue your in-depth examination,” he murmurs.

Your pulse quickens as his fingers trail down your neck and along your collarbone. Gently, he turns you around so your back is to him and sweeps your hair over one shoulder. You shiver pleasantly at the feeling of his hands gliding along the slopes of your shoulders.

“It’s important to know the trapezius muscle,” he says close to your ear. His fingers skim down from the base of your neck, tracing the borders of the trapezius down toward your shoulder blades. You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation.

“Mmm yes, very important,” you breathe.

His hands span across your upper back, gently kneading into the muscle. You let out an appreciative sigh, the tension you’ve been carrying in your back dissolving under his touch.

Charles places a kiss to the curve of your neck as his hands work their way down your spine, counting each vertebrae.

“The vertebral column is quite elegant, don’t you think?” He murmurs against your skin. You hum in agreement, eyes still closed.

When his hands come to rest just above your waist, your breath catches in anticipation. His touch is driving you crazy but you don’t want him to stop.

Slowly, he slides his hands around your waist to your stomach, splaying his fingers possessively across your abdomen. He pulls your back against his chest until no space remains between you.

“How am I doing as your study partner?” He asks, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“Mmm, top of the class,” you reply a little breathlessly.

He grins against your skin. “Maybe we should move this study session somewhere more comfortable.”

You turn around to face him, draping your arms lazily around his neck. “I’ll have to clear my schedule. My boyfriend’s this really busy, important Formula 1 driver, you know.”

Charles smiles, leaning in close until his nose brushes yours. “I think he can make time for you.”

He closes the remaining distance, bringing his mouth to yours in a kiss that curls your toes. You melt into him, all thoughts of anatomy and studying dissolving from your mind.

In this moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. The chaos of life fades away and you’re reminded why you endure the challenges of his demanding career.

Because at the end of the day, you have this — your love, steadfast and true. The rest of the world falls away and you’re home.

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cuntylestat · 4 months

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i saw the tags on this post i made and i find this super interesting because i don't think the problem was actually that he just doesn't have enough light - it's a hindrance for street photography, sure, but a tripod and a shutter cable could solve that and you can take creative approaches to street photography to outweigh the lack of light. you can also shoot in well lit interiors, you can use faster lenses, faster film, etc. you could even pivot to a different type of photography. of course, as technology advances, this would become less of a problem and light is important in photography, but that's solvable. people have made and continue to make great photography in the dark. the pictures that turn out to not be taken by louis are mostly taken at night or inside.

partly, it's down to louis. as dreamstat says, louis is impatient and doesn't take the proper care, e.g. by cleaning his lens, framing his shot with care, taking enough film, or sticking around to try out different compositions in different conditions.

but this is something that he could train himself to do. the real problem (as the dealer points out) is that the compositions do not say much. louis doesn't have "the eye." the photograph they discuss is not good because it was shot in daylight, it's because it tells a story, there is depth to the image, the subjects are framed in a way that it lets you interpret the meaning. it's human.

however, it also goes deeper than that. louis cannot connect with humans to properly picture them or tell their stories because he's a vampire, and therefore there is no relationship that goes beyond predator and prey anymore. he is separated from humanity at this point, even if he doesn't want to realize it. he cannot (and does not) want to stick around to get to know humans, make a connection with them. he finds the idea of doing that preposterous and impossible - they're sustenance and not interesting enough for him to actually invest time and interest in them. i think he likes to think that he is interested in humanity, and that's why he tries to capture them on film, but really, the gap between him and them is too big at this point.

and then there's this excellent point that @feedingicetothedog made in this post. vampires are mimics but they cannot create. louis can recognize the story when it's in front of him in form of a picture, but he cannot recreate it in his own photography because he's no longer human.

so i don't think that, no matter the technology, louis will ever be the type of photographer he wants to be, the one that captures people and human life, its essence and its complexities and its emotions. he's not capable of that anymore because he's a vampire.

#interview with the vampire #give me a photography topic and ldpdl and i will ramble forever #thanks for the people who put those tags on the post because it inspired me!#if i think of anything else i'll add it lol #now i do think he could be a good photographer but it also seems like he gave up at some point because he couldn't be the great artiste

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pearl-tarotist · 10 months

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☽˚｡How will your future spouse know you're their special person? ☽˚｡⋆.

As the second PAC of my collection "cliche moments with your fs", this tarot reading tries to describe the moment where your FS knows you are the person they want to spend their life with.

P1-P2-P3

01.

For some of you, your fs will realize you are their special person when they start thinking of you as family. It will happen gradually and naturally, little by little you have conquered a piece of their brain and heart.

A main scenario that appears on the cards is that they will realise you are their person when they keep picturing you as the mother of their children. They suddenly thought of it and they were like "God, Y/N is just…so perfect and good", with adoration in their eyes. They believe you are naturally nurturing and warm. From that day on, they will want to deepen their relationship with you and take care of you even more. It's a serious decision that they make, a realisation and a promise at the same time. It's possible that one day they have forgotten their jacket and you will go and get them for them or that they have hurt themselves with a wall or something and you kiss their hand and tell them it's okay. The fact that you keep taking care of them makes their heart beat faster and makes their chest warm. And at the same it makes them get protective and selfish about you because "no one deserves the attention of someone as pure and good as you". They truly see you as a wish fulfilment. Another scenario I got was a woman laughing at a beach and their partner being absolute smitten by said woman.

Channelled messages:

Russian, english, french, love at first sight, soft kisses, hand holding, red clothes, office work, 20s, office chairs, black and brown hair, Lana del Rey, fairy tales and authors (books).

02.

This scenario starts with a fs that's apathetic, hard working, cold (lacking warm) and that's not interested in love. Do not get me wrong because they are not bad people, it's just that they are a candle that has been extinguished for a long time and now warmness does not come easily to them. With the king of swords, they are lost in their work and their logical sense, they are a soul focused on getting their business at the right position. They see love as something distant and that they cannot have, even when they just have to extent their hand and take that "cup full of love" that's presented to them. I think they do not know how to take those steps as no one has taught them. Kind of making themselves a victim there. But, once you are in their life, you could be a really funny person and a positive presence that brightens their day. One specific scenario is that they could not have laughed in a long time and when they are speaking to you, you make them laugh... and they suddenly realize that they just smile around you and that their checks had been deprived of laugh until you arrived. It's as if their world was black and white until you came along. I'm sure that they did not even realize their romantic feelings for you at the time but they knew that they wanted you in their life, for sure. They will become quite interested in your privat life and always wait to see you. I am sensing an office love in this pile with a grumpy co-worker but it's a general reading so just take this if resonates.

Channelled messages:

Meeting in bright rooms, a place with windows, Excel and numbers, Rome and Italy, vintage clothing, Crimson Peak (movie), The hunger games (book), Azul by Rubén Dario, Studio Ghibli, Romanticism.

03.

The first card that you got was the lovers so they realize you are their person, probably, the first time they see you, and as typical as it sounds, you both are struck by cupid's arrows. (This is prominent for those who have blond hair) They will like your hair and smile, they will randomly think that your hands are soft and a bit cold. They will think about your smile for days on and if you were wearing thigh clothing...well, let's say you have a nice chest. I think you both were introduced by an acquaintance, an old (in thier 40s-50s) man or woman in the street or at your work. However, it's not that easy because your future spouse is extremely nervous around you, it's that new crush energy where they are smitten by you. I think they have trust issues and they had their heart broken in the past and they keep trying to surpass all of those paralizing feeling while meeting and getting to know you better without giving you any signal that they are extremely interested. They will put effort to beat their own fears for a chance to meet you, I think their friends will support them while they get to know you.

Channelled messages:

Romeo and Juliet, yellow, the moon, orchids, Ireland, the police, 10 things I hate about you, the sea, Greece, bulls and butterflies.

#tarot #pac #pick a pile #pearl #tarot reading #astrology #free tarot #love tarot #pick a card #future spouse tarot #love reading

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pomefioredove · 4 months

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You know what would be sad? If you/Yuu breaks up with Vil (or vice versa) and then runs to Rook afterwards. I wonder if Vil is going to feel betrayed again? If you could do a little scenario for this, that’d be great!

this is such a good prompt, I love rebound scenarios omg. needed this today. and here comes rook with the steel chair!!!

summary: getting dumped by vil schoenheit type of post: long fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, established relationship, vil breaks up with reader, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kinda angsty, hahhhh, my god

"It's not personal. I just don't think it's fair to you," Vil says.

He doesn't fidget. Maintains perfect eye contact. He doesn't even try to act sorry, which, perhaps, is what stings the most.

He's supposed to be an actor, after all.

That's what this is all about.

"You must have always known this was a possibility," he says. "My schedule is getting busier, I simply don't... want to push you away."

Each word is spoken with a honeyed softness, as if he's trying to cushion the blows. It doesn't help.

Your heart thuds in your chest, your eyes burn. This is the worst thing you've ever experienced. You would take a thousand overblots over this. Any day.

What a bitter sentiment.

"You don't mean to push me away. What is this, then?"

A look of guilt finally crosses Vil's face, cracking the mask of professionalism he'd been hiding behind. It offers little comfort.

His brow furrows, and he sighs. "A preventative measure. It would hurt more if I'd waited,"

A million questions fly through your mind, faster than you can catch them. You want to shout, to tell him exactly how he's making you feel, to ask him who he thinks he is- but all you can manage is a stare.

He frowns, extending a hand as if to caress your face, but you turn on your heels and leave before he has the chance.

You wouldn't sit there and let him make a fool of you any longer.

You had become comfortable with the Pomefiore dorm in the past few months, but today, its elegance feels suffocating. The white and gold decor seems to mock you, every vase of perfect flowers laughing at your imperfection as you pass them by.

It hurts.

Stings, burns, makes you feel like you're drowning in a sea of perfume, choking on lilac and rose. Has the air here always been so sickeningly sweet?

There's still a lingering part of you that wants to run back to him, to beg, to negotiate, but you know he's right. You hate that he's right.

This... whatever it was... wouldn't last.

And you'd always known it.

---

How does one recover from being dumped by Vil Schoenheit?

Short answer: you can't.

You can wallow all you want, drowning yourself in the unhealthy foods he forbade you from eating, skipping the classes he'd so encouraged you to excel in, and using cheap tissues on your formerly-perfect skin, but that doesn't change a thing.

Perhaps if it hadn't been so public, you might have pulled yourself together sooner. But the very second all of your pictures were gone from his profile, everyone knew.

On some nights, you'd torture yourself by reading the thirsty comments from desperate fans under his latest posts, all of them pointing out his recent singleness. You would wonder to yourself if you had sounded that pathetic when you were dating Vil.

Just another hopeless, desperate fan, hoping for a piece of him.

People on campus avoided you. Not out of fear, but pity, a lack of knowing what to say. How do you even comfort someone after this?

It was like having an open wound on full display. No matter how you tried to bandage it, it kept bleeding through.

Even Grim was keeping his distance.

What little comfort came in the form of an anonymous knight in shining armor. Roses left at your doorstep, letters of love and encouragement on your assigned seats, little baskets full of your favorite foods and trinkets on your kitchen table...

You would have questioned it if you were not so consumed by your grief. At least the mystery offered a distraction.

"Another one," Ace comments, pulling a letter off your chair before you can sit on it. "Whoever this guy is, he's slick."

He hands you the letter, which you gracefully accept.

Deuce watches cautiously. "And you're sure it's not just... some kinda of prank, right? I've known my fair share of nasty types, this could be a trick."

"Too much effort," you shake your head. "I mean, whoever this is is spending a lot of time and money cheering me up. Not to mention... I've tried looking up some of these poems, and no matches. They're originals."

You wave around the letter in hand, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Though, I'm sure whoever's doing it is just being nice,"

"Nice. Right," Ace rolls his eyes. "Cause I know like, a million teenage boys who are just dying to write poetry for their friends."

Even Deuce snickers at that. You roll your eyes.

"Point taken. I guess I just can't believe that anyone would want me after..." you pause. There's no pleasant way to put it, so you let Ace and Deuce fill in the blanks.

"Hey, Vil is a jerk. He doesn't deserve you," Deuce says. "And trust me, if I ever catch him disrespecting you again-"

Ace scoffs. "Woah, there, tiger. Calm down. Vil could kick your ass and we all know it,"

"He really was something, wasn't he?" you sigh, slumping in your seat. Ace and Deuce give each other a panicked look.

"We didn't mean-"

"No, I get it," you say, reaching down to the floor in an attempt to touch your toes. Vil had told you that little exercises help calm the nerves. You hate how you still need his advice.

"Oh, hey, look," you sit back up, another pink envelope in hand. "Another one."

---

There's something about these gifts that doesn't sit right with you.

Each one is arranged to perfection, obviously crafted by a very thoughtful individual, just personal enough to suit your tastes but distant all the same.

It's almost as if the sender is holding something back.

But, not today.

You're greeted by a trail of rose petals leading up to Ramshackle's front door, which itself is ajar. Not uncommon, considering Grim's inability to take care of the makeshift dorm, but with the scent of roses and the candlelight inside, you know it's something more.

You walk in, setting your things aside, and continue following the path of petals into the kitchen, where a rickety wooden table has been set for two.

You, however, are the only one in the room.

"Hello?" you ask, turning in circles. The space is empty, save for a small letter on one of the chairs.

Beautiful,

A little bird told me you doubt the intentions of my admiration. I must amend that immediately, and I see no better way than to say it myself.

Yours truly.

"Trickster," a familiar voice comes from the doorway behind you, and you whirl around to face your admirer.

"Rook!" you gasp, clutching the letter to your chest.

He beams in response. "Oui, c'est moi. Though I was so enjoying the mystery, I feel it's time I made my intentions clear. Sit, please,"

You don't hesitate to follow his suggestion (the surprise left your knees feeling weak, anyway), and he joins you in the adjacent seat.

"But what-"

"Please," he says, holding a finger to your lips to shush you. "Let me start. I first want to say that I have meant every single word, in song and ink, that I have given to you. My heart is true."

Your mind is overflowing with questions, none of which he seems keen on answering in full just yet.

"I have spent the past several months allowing our Beautiful Vil to woo you. I have so enjoyed watching your love blossom from afar, despite my own feelings towards you. But things have changed," Rook says.

"For as much as I love him, this was his own doing. He has made a fatal mistake, one which cannot be undone- he has wounded you, mon amour, in a most vulnerable fashion. Months ago, when we both realized our feelings for you, I willingly stepped aside," he says. "I thought Vil would be the best option for you. I thought I was not ready to commit myself. Now I see what a mistake that was, and I hope you might find it within yourself to forgive me..."

You can only stare back. "Rook..."

"I cannot resent our Roi du Poison for his choice, for it's his to make. But he hurt you dearly, and in the process, he has relinquished his claim on you. I know your wound is still fresh. But, please, Mon Trickster, mon véritable amour, be mine?"

You're silent for a moment, processing every detail of what he said, what he's offering...

He's right. The wound Vil created is still open, and despite the weeks of "recovery", had yet to improve.

If you kept waiting for it to heal, perhaps it never would.

You nod. "Okay. Okay! But-! Let's take it slow, okay?"

Rook just barely manages to stop himself from leaping across the table to take your hands into his, and he reaffirms your request with a nod.

"Of course, mon cœur. What is a hunter if not patient?"

---

Pomefiore is beautiful again.

There are still times where you swear you can see Vil staring at the two of you, a look of discontent on his face, from across the room.

He doesn't utter a word about the way Rook has his arm over your shoulder, or the many terms of endearment he uses on you, though he doesn't have to. The lingering guilt and regret has made a home for itself in Vil Schoenheit.

You're sure Rook has noticed by now, too, although this isn't the first time he's pulled something like this on the housewarden without a second thought, and it likely won't be the last.

Perhaps it's for the better.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #queued #rook hunt x reader #can't stop thinking of the logistics of this bc if rook and vil both liked the mc at the same time they would NEVER fight over it #rook would totally let vil go ahead and then either become vilyuu number one fan OR polycule OR be there to steal mc when vil fucks up #and alas polycule is probably the least likely because vil would Not Want to Share

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haggishlyhagging · 2 months

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In 1847 the stereotypes for male and female writers were very rigid. Critics expected from a male writer strength, passion, and intellect, and from a woman writer they expected tact, refinement, and piety. They depended on these stereotypes so much, in fact, that they really didn't know how to proceed, what to say, or what to look for in a book if they were unsure of the author's sex.

So Jane Eyre created a tremendous sensation, and it was a problem for the Brontës. The name Currer Bell could be that of either a man or a woman and the narrator of Jane Eyre is Jane herself. The book is told as an autobiography. These things suggested that the author might have been a woman. On the other hand, the novel was considered to be excellent, strong, intelligent and, most of all, passionate. And therefore, the critics reasoned, it could not be written by a woman, and if it turned out that it was written by a woman, she had to be unnatural and perverted.

The reason for this is that the Victorians believed that decent women had no sexual feelings whatsoever—that they had sexual anesthesia. Therefore, when Jane says about Rochester that his touch "made her veins run fire, and her heart beat faster than she could count its throbs," the critics assumed this was a man writing about his sexual fantasies. If a woman was the author, then presumably she was writing from her own experience, and that was disgusting. In this case we can clearly see how women were not permitted the authority of their own experience if it happened to contradict the cultural stereotype.

But even more shocking than this to the Victorians was Jane's reply to Rochester, a very famous passage in the novel. He has told her he is going to marry another woman, an heiress, but that she can stay on as a servant. Jane answers him thus:

"I tell you I must go," I retorted, roused to something like passion. "Do you think I can stay to become nothing to you? Do you think I am an automaton, a machine without feeling and can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips and my drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think because I am poor, obscure, plain and little, I'm soulless and heartless? You think wrong. I have as much soul as you and full as much heart. And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should've made it as hard for you to leave me as it is now for me to leave you. I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionality, nor even of mortal flesh. It is my spirit that addresses your spirit, just as if both had passed through the grave and we stood at God's feet equal—as we are."

This splendid assertion violated not only the standards of sexual submission, which were believed to be women's duty and their punishment for Eve's crime, but it also went against standards of class submission, and obviously against religion. And this sort of rebellion was not feminine at all.

The reviews of Jane Eyre in 1847 and 1848 show how confused the critics were. Some of them said Currer Bell was a man. Some of them, including Thackeray, said a woman. One man, an American critic named Edgar Percy Whipple, said the Bells were a team, that Currer Bell was a woman who did the dainty parts of the book and brother Acton the rough parts. All kinds of circumstantial evidence were adduced to solve this problem, such as the details of housekeeping. Harriet Martineau said the book had to be the work of a woman or an upholsterer. And Lady Eastlake, who was a reviewer for one of the most prestigious journals, said it couldn't be a woman because no woman would dress her heroines in such outlandish clothes.

Eventually Charlotte Brontë revealed her identity, and then these attacks which had been general became personal. People introduced her as the author of a naughty book; they gossiped that she was Thackeray's mistress. They speculated on the causes of what they called "her alien and sour perspective on women." She felt during her entire short life that she was judged always on the basis of what was becoming in femininity and not as an artist.

-Elaine Showalter, ‘Women Writers and the Female Experience’ in Radical Feminism, Koedt et al (eds.)

#elaine showalter #charlotte bronte #jane eyre #sex roles #female writers #women’s history #women in literature #victorian

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chariaki · 2 months

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Upperclassman!Rin x Underclassman!reader ❤️

Upperclassman Suna Rintarou who smirks at you when he catches you staring at him.

Upperclassman Suna Rintarou who treats and thinks of you as a kid, so everytime you excel academically he's buying you ice cream and praising you with his classic line, "Good job, kid."

Upperclassman Suna Rintarou who would always pat and rub your head every time he sees you in the hallways.

Upperclassman Suna Rintarou who worries for you, because although you're smart, everyone knows you're also clumsy and naive, so everytime he sees you walking hone from school, he walks with you. Just to ensure no weirdo gets near you, of course. Not that he actually likes spending time with you...or so he says.

Upperclassman Suna Rintarou who asks for your number in a friendly way after gradually becoming close with you during your walks.

Upperclassman Suna Rintarou who thinks you're a fun and chill person that he vibes with.

Upperclassman Suna Rintarou who "randomly" started observing you from a distance everytime he gets the chance to. Like when you're inside your classroom studying, he stands outisde of your class window for a little while longer just to "examine" you. Or when he's getting his phone back from the faculty room and he sees you talking with your teacher.... he stays there for a minute longer.

Upperclassman Suna Rintarou who realizes he enjoys your company and, so, came to the conclusion to tease you even more.

Upperclassman Suna Rintarou who confuses his romantic feelings for you to be the same as "sibling love" or older brother "nitpicking."

Uooerclassm Suna Rintarou who fills your phone up with so many notifications. One in instagran because of all the reels he sends, the other on spotify, and another one on your messaging app where he spams you with meme photos.

Upperclassman Suna Rintarou who's meme photos are photos of Atsumu Miya.

Upperclassman Suna Rintarou who, does, in fact nitpick like an overprotective older brother. Whether it's your skirt being too short, your shoes looking uncomfortable to wear, or your buttons being unbuttoned.

Upperclassman Suna Rintarou who gets flustered when his friends ask him about you, and then unconvincingly swears he only sees you as a sister that needs to be protected.

Upperclassman Suna Rintarou who acknowledges the sprouting feeling of jealousy in his chest when he sees his dumbass friend Kuroo flirting with you.

Upperclassman Suna Rintarou who's hands moved faster than his brain could process, thus resulting in his left hand taking you by your wrist and his right on your waist as he walks you away from Kuroo.

Upperclassman Suna Rintarou who's romantic feelings had just dawned on him when he saw you blushing from the touch of his hands.

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arthenaa · 1 year

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carnal — sebastian sallow x fem!reader x ominis gaunt

plot summary: Challenging two renowned Aurors responsible for almost half of the imprisonment of numerous dark wizards leads to you experiencing being hunted for your life during a celebratory party at the ministry.

warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, dark themes, slight plot with porn, aged up characters (silver trio are in their mid 20's), sebastian and ominis are aurors, random ocs mentioned (i just shit out names tbh), random hp shit as well not sure some of them exist in the canon lore, reader is a magizoologist in a partnership w the ministry, they hunt u down (its all roleplay), dominis, switch seb, bottom reader, she/her prns is used for reader, ominis, you and seb like pulling each others hair lmfao, oral sex, p in v sex, choking, all the nasty stuff.

notes: inspired by @/pseudonymmcwriter i love prns fics pls you should check them out if ur into detroit become human <3 minors are highly discouraged from reading. read at your own risk. pt 2 of carnal.

It was supposed to be a joke.

A jest at their occupation. You didn't mean to talk shit about their jobs as Aurors. You were merely joking around, influenced by the festivities around you. Although, you suppose you shouldn't have tried to joke around Slytherins at all. It was a celebratory party for the new head Auror, Ryona Bassett, who was praised for her leadership skills and achievements in finally capturing a dark wizard creating havoc in the wizarding world. It was due to this that she had gotten her promotion, a well-earned position on her part.

Of course, she couldn't have done it herself. As part of her plan to capture said wizard, she had formed a group of talented wizards and witches to aid her. Part of that group was you. The wise witch had apparated in front of your apartment in London, sitting on the bench like the menace that she is in hopes of recruiting you as part of her team (You had almost jumped out of your skin at the creepy sight).

It was because of your skills and experience in the field of magical creatures that led you to be recruited by Ryona Bassett. Dragons were said to be one of the weapons used in the dark wizard's plan, and well, who'd be perfect for the job other than you? As a magizoologist, your job enabled you to mostly work alone as it required intensive travel all over the world. Although you worked for the Care of the Magical Creatures department, you were more of a partner rather than an employee of the ministry. You saved Hogwarts during your 5th year, rescued the fate of the wizarding world after a dark wizard had tried yet again to sabotage the election of a new leader, and also nurtured and rescued beasts in your care.

Basically, you were a big shot, and y'know that big shots like you always get called for the important stuff, which is why you're where you are today.

Part of the said group was also none other than your two dearest friends; Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt, Aurors at the British Ministry of Magic. Sebastian and Ominis were the two people who Ryona had at her beck and call given that they did work in her division. However, these weren't the only reasons why she had chosen the two. They both had risen the ranks at a much faster rate than others ever since they joined the Auror office. This wasn't to your surprise considering the two often sneaked out in the safety of the Undercroft to practice spells out of Hogwarts' jurisdiction. Sebastian Sallow was known for his magical prowess in dueling and knowledge of the dark arts whilst Ominis Gaunt excelled more in tracking and hunting through magical traces. Despite his blindness, he had formed a unique connection to his wand, allowing him to sense and feel magic more sensitively than others. The two are quite formidable Aurors and built up a reputation as one.

They were also known to be the pair who almost filled half of Azkaban. They were that good.

It didn't help that they were also attractive. They were deemed to be the ministry's most desired bachelors of this era. You couldn't agree more.

It had been a while since the three of you were together in the same room. You kept your friendship low maintenance and would send an owl to each other here and there. To be honest, the low-maintenance friendship was more of you and them, but we don't need the specifics. After a long month of trying to catch Hugo Blaire (the dark wizard, yes), it wasn't a huge surprise that a party would be done in honor of the group's efforts and contribution to making another safe and sound day for the wizarding world.

You don't know how many glasses of champagne you had downed in the past hour, but you sure as hell won't be counting. You've been scanning the crowd, looking for a particular brunette and blonde amongst a sea of unfamiliar people.

It was tiring trying to keep up with the greetings and the conversations. You probably mispronounced multiple last names at this point, and you couldn't care any less at how many eye twitches and failed to keep horrified expressions you've seen in the past hour. Your assistant, Judy Beckham, decided to be your spokesperson at the start as she noticed that the glass on your hand seemed to have no plans leaving your grasp. It was funny seeing her play as your publicist as you had yet again purposefully mispronounced "Yaxley" to "Yackley? Yatley? Yale? Shitley?" (It was well deserved, to be honest. He was on your shitlist after he had tried to order your imprisonment when you were trying to rescue a Zouwu who had wreaked havoc in the streets of London. He claimed you were the one responsible for the mess... Which was partially true... But not all of it!)

"And that should be your final drink." A voice interrupted your thoughts before a hand grabbed the refillable glass in your hand, moving it away from your grasp. The scent of musk and wood immediately infiltrated your senses as your back feels the presence of another. You turn to face the culprit, smiling at him.

"Sebastian." You softly reply as you place a hand on his arm. "I was looking for you."

"As have I, darling." He chuckles before glancing at the glass in his hand, watching as it filled back up with champagne. "Though it seems you've already started to enjoy yourself."

"Refillable charms are a crime." You softly laugh in response. The Auror has a soft look on his face. You glance back at the center of the ball where Ryona stood alongside the rest of the crew, entertaining guests. "Aren't you supposed to be there?"

"You mean we?" He corrects as he places a hand on your waist. You feel butterflies in your stomach. You push it away.

"... Right."

"Where's the little redhead you're with?" Sebastian doesn't need to crane his head to survey the room. He was a tall motherfucker who was gifted with the lucky genes. You didn't know how much a person could grow knowing that he was the same height as you in your fifth year, then you were at his shoulder in your 7th. He was tall and attractive. A direct shit to your face.

"You mean Judy?" You raise an eyebrow at him despite mentioning her multiple times in your letters. He smiles a boyish grin at you.

"I saw her a moment ago trying to calm down August Yaxley from transfiguring you then and there. What'd you do this time?" You feel his thumb rubbing the material of your dress on your waist. His stare was unwavering as he encouraged a response out of you.

"Mispronounced his name. It was quite funny seeing the number of expressions running through his face. Quite a life-changing experience, if I do say so myself. As for Judy, she just gave up on me. She's probably drinking herself to death somewhere." You jest. He chuckles at your response before pulling his hand away from your waist. It almost made you whine at the loss, but you remember this is your best friend, and you shouldn't be whining like a submissive bitch in heat at the loss of his touch. "Where's Ominis?"

"Ah." He places the glass on the waiter's tray as one passes by before crossing his arms over his chest. He looks so attractive in his black three-piece suit with a silver chain hanging on his vest. It didn't help with the way the material of his coat stretched along his arms, fitting his physique perfectly. You wanted to drool. "He'll be here in a minute."

"That sounds oddly vague." You rest your weight on one leg as you copy his form. "What's he really doing?"

Sebastian rolls his eyes before raising his arms in defense. "You got me. He's finishing writing up and collecting final intel on another case."

"That quick? Damn." Your eyes widen in amusement.

"Remember that church we went to last week? A couple of days before Blaire's capture? The one in Glasgow." He recalls. You hum, remembering the place. "Turns out, there were other traces of dark magic there different from Blaire's lot. It was an infamous place for dark wizards to gather, and we were lucky enough to be able to hit two birds with one stone. Ominis was able to decipher the similarities of that dark magic to the ones he received from that hacienda back in the Philippines."

"That's amazing." You marvel at Ominis's tracking skills.

"I know. Bassett put us on the case right after this." Sebastian sighs. "Not sure if that's a blessing or a curse."

"Just shows how talented you guys are." You bite your lip as you pat his arm. Sebastian shakes his head.

"You had a hand in this, too." He gives you a pointed look. "If it weren't for our daring escapades, I wouldn't be where I am today."

"Yeah, right. If I recall correctly, you were the mastermind of it all."

"I wouldn't have done it if I didn't witness your magical prowess in ancient magic, Ms. Hero of Hogwarts." He leans in, pinching your cheek as he teases you. You flush in embarrassment at the title, trying to forget after years of hearing it multiple times to the point where all you wanted to do is obliviate the whole damn school. Wasn't it so hard to just say you saved the school? Why'd they have to press in the title 'Hero'? Thankfully, Sebastian's proximity made you forget an incoming war flashback of your time at Hogwarts. You would've died from cringe there and then.

"You two look cozy with each other. If I were from Daily Prophet, I'd already made millions from using this as gossip material." A new presence has arrived, startling you two out of your comfortable conversation. Sebastian sighs dramatically at his entrance.

"Ominis. You're late." Sebastian chastises jokingly as he watches his best friend glare in the direction of his voice. You might've laughed at Sebastian trying to act like a disappointed mother, but you were taking your time checking out the new addition to your little group. Similar to Sebastian, Ominis had also experienced a growth spurt. Nearly at the same height as the brunette beside you, the man embodies the essence of elegance and gallantry. His hair is in his usual slicked-back hairdo and wearing a dark blue three-piece set that matched his cloudy blue eyes. Ominis adjusts the tie on his neck with his free hand before moving close to you two with the guide of his wand.

"Thanks, Sebastian, for the obvious observation." He sarcastically replies before feeling for your hand and pressing a soft kiss on the back of it. "Hello, love."

"You two practicing on your courting game or something?" You joke as you watch Ominis put down your hand gently. Sebastian tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he moves close to stand behind you. "I feel so flattered."

"It's just the bare minimum, dove." Sebastian leans in to whisper against your ear. He laughs softly as you move back, tickled by his breath. Ominis wasn't able to hear what the other Auror said and could only sigh in exasperation at Sebastian's antics.

"I heard you were finishing an intel report on a new case, Ominis." You change the subject as you rest your hand on his arm. Ominis places a hand on top of yours.

"Yes. Did Sebastian mess up again?" He turns to the direction of your voice with an accusing tone. "Don't answer. Of course he did."

"Hey! That's unfair of you to assume." Sebastian pouts.

"Am I wrong?" Ominis raises his eyebrow. Sebastian falls silent. "Thought so."

"Shut up."

"I am quite curious, though, did you ever have an instance that you weren't able to track someone?" You ask out of curiosity as your arm intertwines with Ominis's. You glance between the two as they pause to think. These two were deemed the best in the industry. Surely, the praises were exaggerated, right? You had a hard time tracking poacher locations, and you already had possession of ancient magic. Being the best doesn't entail 100% success.

"Nah." Sebastian answers nonchalantly. Ominis nods in agreement. "Sure, some took more time than others but everything's trackable."

You pause for a moment at their answers. "Really?"

"Yes. Everyone leaves tracks of magic every day. It's quite easy to decipher once you're used to it." Ominis adds, trying to convince you further. You hum, still unconvinced by their claims. Sebastian turns to you, looking at you with an unwavering stare. You tried to look back, but you could only glance away, not able to return it.

There's a moment of silence before the brunette breaks it off.

"You don't believe us, do you?" Sebastian says with his eyes wide and eyebrows raised in amusement. Ominis has an unreadable look on his face. You feel like you've offended them both with the way Sebastian's staring at you and Ominis's tense body.

"Well— I mean, surely not all right?" You sheepishly smile at him. Sebastian scoffs at you.

"I assure you, Y/N. When I track something, I get it done." Ominis turns his body towards you, causing your arm to fall from his. You look between the two as they continue to look at you with unreadable looks. You feel as though you've suddenly been cornered. Like you've done something worthy of their attention as Aurors and not as Sebastian and Ominis. This shouldn't excite you, but it did, and so you stupidly continued your plan on pissing them off.

Slytherins are known for one thing, and that's their drive for ambition and winning in competitive environments. What more to entertain yourself by pissing off not one but two snakes?

"Bullshit." You've resorted to using harsh methods. You could see the way Ominis's eye twitched and Sebastian's sudden change of posture. You were glad you met those boring guests back then, it certainly helped maintain a straight face. "Not even once?"

"Y/N." Sebastian takes a step close. "We're not kidding."

"Sure you are." You let out a giggle as you move a step back, trying to gauge their reactions. Ominis steps close to Sebastian's side as he clenches his jaw. This is fun.

Now, this is where the actual problem starts. You were having way too much fun trying to get a rise out of them that the words spewing out of your mouth were thought half-assed. You were joking but they we're taking it seriously.

"I'd bet my whole fucking body you won't be able to catch me. Even Bassett has a hard time getting me these days. What more of a challenge than a magizoologist to track, hm?" You laughed.

Bad move.

Bad fucking move, because all of a sudden, you could feel the tenacity of their stare. Even Ominis seemed like at that specific moment could see you and stare straight into your soul. You felt your body go rigid with nervousness.

The silence was long and uncomfortable. Both of them stood there, postures domineering and authoritative. You felt scared but at the same time, excited. You decided to make the first move.

"Guys?"

Sebastian licks his lips as he looks at Ominis before leaning close to his ear and whispering. The other Auror blinks slowly as he listens to him before nodding. Sebastian moves forward first.

"What's the bet again?" Sebastian smugly asks. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"I'm afraid I'm not following—"

"You said you'd bet your whole body, right?" He reminds you. Your eyes widen in response.

"I wasn't serious about it." You try to reason with them.

"We weren't joking in the first place. You know we've always liked you. Why not take advantage of a little opportunity, hm?" Sebastian says with a low voice as he raises a hand to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. He looks down at you with eyes that seemed to mock you. You felt slightly ashamed but tried to keep your confidence afloat.

It was common knowledge that the two best friends pined after you. Ever since your 5th year, the two had fallen irrevocably in love with everything about you. You knew. They knew you knew and yet a silent pact was made between the two to never make a move on you as they didn't know how you felt and didn't deem it worthy as the fall of their friendship. You were glad somehow but also saddened because you never really chose between them. You liked them both. But they didn't need to know that. Right?

Well, it seems as if they're testing you right now, and with the amount of alcohol in your system combined with their dark looks trained on you, you wouldn't be surprised if you did admit your attraction to both of your best friends.

"Aw, are you scared?" Sebastian taunts. Ominis only stands behind him, posture calm and collected as he listens to his partner speak for him.

"Shut the fuck up." You reply in a weak voice, feeling intimidated by their aura. Ominis lets out a soft laugh. "I was joking about it in the first place—"

"Ah, ah." Sebastian grasps your chin in his hand, turning your face towards him. "You said it first. We're just finishing the job."

You let out a shaky breath as they continue to move closer and into your space. Sebastian's thumb caresses your bottom lip as he stares at you with want and desire.

"Let's be clear here, darling. The only reason why Bassett can't properly find you is that it's her that's finding you." Sebastian mumbles lowly. You could feel the grip on your chin tightening. Your knees tremble at his domineering hold on your face as your core begins to burn with arousal. "You've never had us."

Shit.

It's Ominis that sets the final nail in the coffin. He leans down to whisper in your ear. "Ryona's going to give a final speech in the next few minutes."

A hand slithers across the small of your back before grabbing your waist, pulling you close to him. You let out a small moan at the harsh movement before the lips against your ear continue to move. "We're going to give you 30 seconds to move. You got that, sweetheart?"

A soft kiss placed on both sides of your neck makes you whimper as both of them pull away from you. You watch as Sebastian casts a final look at you before both of them disappear into the crowd. You stand with knees weak and mind in shambles as you hear the crowd cheer at Ryona's entrance. She waves into the crowd and suddenly you're face with an existential crisis.

We're you suppose to move during? Or after? Did you have to hide? Fuck, did the 30 seconds already start? You couldn't grasp a single thing in your mind as your eyes tried to find the familiar backs of the two. It seemed all the eerier that you didn't know where they were. It was like a predator hiding and waiting for the perfect chance to pounce. So as the submissive prey that you are, you began to move.

You squeezed your way through heaps of people. Ryona's speech was already considered background noise for you. You had reached the east entrance, sighing in relief before a pair of hands stop you from reaching freedom. You could almost feel your heart drop before exhaling a big breath at the sight of your assistant, Judy Beckham.

"Where were you? I was looking everywhere for you!" Judy worries like the inner mother that she is. You could almost coo at her concern over your well-being but the thought of two Aurors after your ass was more pressing than the worried redhead in front of you.

"Listen, Judy. If ever you come across Sebastian and Ominis, tell them I went to the west side of the building." You smile widely as you hold her arms tight within your grasp. Judy raises her eyebrow in confusion.

"Y/N, you're not making sense—"

"Please!" You plead as you pull her closer to your face. The girl cranes her head back at the proximity. "I'm in grave danger if those two ever find me. Be a gal and lie, okay?"

Judy stares at you for a few seconds before sighing. "West. Got it."

"Thank you!" You grab her for a quick hug before bolting through the doors. Your heels clack noisily on the marble floor as you rushed through the partially empty corridors of the ministry. You pass by familiar faces who you kindly shoot a smile at.

"Fucking heels—" You groan as you reach for the devil traps on your feet, pulling them off and continuing your escape barefoot. You manage to reach the hallway to the elevator before a voice causes you to pause and crouch down to hide.

"Y/N." Ominis's tender voice echoes throughout the empty corridor. You hide in a corner as you watch his figure pass by the elevator. Great, the easiest way out was already guarded. You should've thought that ahead. "I know you're here."

You remain silent as you watch Ominis pace back and forth slowly, face looking calm and collected. You assess your surroundings, looking for a way to escape.

"Do you want to know why I know you're here?" Ominis asks which catches your attention. You check behind you to ensure that no Sebastian was sneaking up on you to catch you off guard. You wait for him to reply. "You've always had a particular magical aura. I sensed a glimpse of it when you entered the doors of the Great Hall in our 5th year, then it grew bigger and stronger when I saw you exit the Undercroft. Magical auras tend to vary according to a wizard or witch's personality and most of them feel loud and ... unnerving. You, however, shine like sunlight on a sunny day. A gentle breeze at the start of autumn."

Your breath hitched as you hear his footsteps halt. You feel your cheeks heat up at his declaration, you bite your lip as you wait to hear more. "I felt attached to you because of it. Like a moth to a flame. Do you think spending years by your side that I haven't got your aura ingrained in my head? I suppose that's what I get for falling for you."

Fuck. You don't know where he went. It seems as if one moment you knew he was there and then the next he was gone. You peek into the hallway, glancing back and forth.

You knew you shouldn't have let your guard down. You knew that you were faced with someone who was so used to tracking and feeling magic differently and more sensitively than others that it became an extra sense to them. You feel his breath before his touch.

"It's the very reason why I sense you right away. You're leaking your tracks everywhere, love." He speaks lowly against your ear. With a harsh shove and a twist of your arm to your back, he pushes you against the wall with your front against the hard surface.

"O-Ominis, wait!—" You try to plead but the Auror only presses you more against the wall. He had your arm twisted against your back with a hold of your wrist. His chest pressed against yours and his face on the side of your neck.

"That fast?" He mocks you as he laughs closely against your ear. You try to push back against his grip but you remain defenseless.

"Fuck you."

"You wish." He mumbles lowly in your ear. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent before placing possessive kisses against it. You let out sighs of pleasure before groaning in pain as Ominis grabs your head by your hair and angles it for more room on your neck.

"Let me go." You breathlessly beg as you allow him to pepper kisses against your neck. You wish to stay there and then but you knew that the boys wanted a bit more fun. After all, you wanted to get the most out of this once-in-a-lifetime situation.

"Now, why would I do that?" Ominis bites your ear lobe as he grinds his hips against your ass. You try to turn your head towards him.

"Cause you love a good chase, right? This barely counts as one." You tempt him, grinding back against his moving hips. He lets out an amused laugh, letting go of your wrist as he encloses his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly against him. You bask in his presence, head falling back on his shoulder. He turns his head to the side, placing more kisses on your neck before biting on your shoulder. You let out a soft moan.

"I'm giving you another 15 seconds. Run as fast as you can." He whispers in your ear before sensually moving his arms off your waist. He takes 5 steps back before motioning the empty corridor with a nudge of his hand. You lick your lips before running away from him.

Ominis tilts his head back as he pants from the arousal, running his fingers through his neatly styled hair before a voice enters his mind.

"Are you on your way?" Sebastian asks. Ominis rolls his eyes before fixing his coat. Sebastian often flexed his magical abilities, especially this one he had learned recently. The ability to communicate through the mind. His best friend was a natural student of magic, curious to the wizarding world and desperate in learning all of it as he is a son to two former educators. This was also what made him a pain in the ass.

"I let her go. She's on her way to you." He replies as he takes his time following your trail. He's sure if he made a run for it now, he'd get you in no time. But he decides to play by your rules.

"Fucker. Did you get a taste?" He hears Sebastian chuckle through their shared mind connection.

"Get the fuck out of my head before I get her myself."

"You're hot when you're angry, y'know?" Sebastian purrs. Ominis grunts at his flirt. "Got it, sir."

You don't know how long you've run. Most of the ministry departments were empty due to the large celebration on one of the building's halls. Everyone was there and the only creatures patrolling the halls were Matagots. They were formidable creatures who easily sensed intruders so if there was a breach in security, a single spell cast on a Matagot would immediately alert all of you. You've decided to stop at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as you deduced that Sebastian would probably be on standby in front of the elevator when it reached the ground level. At least here, you were close to the ground floor and there's a passageway that leads you down to the ground floor discreetly (you'd have to thank Hank, the house elf in charge of the elevator for that one).

Also because you've chosen this floor, consequently you knew you were on the floor where the Auror office is located. Which means, Sebastian and Ominis's floor. This is probably the least floor to logically be on but you probably (emphasis on probably) knew that they wouldn't check here. The passageway was located at the Head Auror's office and so you just need to sneak your way in and easily escape.

Unfortunately, Merlin was being a bitch.

As soon as you opened the entrance to the Auror division, you gasp quietly at Sebastian leaning against the doors to the Head Auror's office, twirling his wand elegantly between his fingers.

"Fancy seeing you here." Sebastian smiles so innocently. You stand on alert as he moves away from the double doors and towards you with careful steps.

"How'd you know?" You ask as you take steps back with every step forward from the man in front of you. Sebastian shrugs.

"When you're well versed with the dark arts, it's quite easy to detect certain things." Sebastian hums. "Or maybe it's just basic logic. After all, you have to think ahead of your opponent."

You continue to take a step back before your back meets a surface that wasn't originally there. You turn around to see the very same man who had given you a moment of mercy.

"Again?" Ominis smiles with pity, pretending to have no clue as to why he found you yet again. You let out a loud gasp before rushing to the one side of the room to move away from them both. The two stalk toward you like predators. You could feel your breath shortening with nervousness as they cornered you to a wall. You had no way out. You discreetly glance around you before seeing an opening to the Head Auror's office. In a moment of panic and sheer bravery, you bolt down towards the double doors leading to your escape, trying to get one last chance to run away.

Sebastian snarls as he runs after you. Ominis stands behind, arms behind his back as he lets his partner handle the work. You could feel the fast thumps of his foot against carpeted floor as your hands try to open the overly complicated entrance. You clumsily open the door before a set of strong arms grab your waist and pull you away from your only chance of escaping. You scream in retaliation before a hand covers your mouth.

"Bad, bad girl." Sebastian huffs as he presses you against his chest, hand on your mouth as he watches you fight back in his grasp. His hands then move to reposition themselves. One hand wraps around your waist while the other grabs your neck and grips it back to lay your head back against his shoulder. "Should I cast Oscausi on you for being so fucking loud, hm?"

"Sebastian." Ominis calls his attention before nodding to one of the open and empty offices. He moves towards the two of you as Sebastian pulls you to the empty roomwith Ominis locking the door behind him. "Stop scaring her."

"Do you think she looks scared?" Sebastian raises his eyebrow as he settles on a desk, pulling you to his lap. You shake, riddled with sensitivity as Sebastian continues to grip your neck. Ominis raises his hands, gliding up your arms before feeling Sebastian's hold on your neck and then moving up to your face. He feels the heat from your cheeks, the dryness of your lips and hears the soft little gasps and moans escaping your mouth. You were aroused and completely at their mercy. Ominis smiles as he runs his thumb against your bottom lip before leaning in close.

"We won, little dove. Are you ready?" He gently asks. Sebastian gently eases on his grip but remains his hold on your neck. You look up at Ominis and softly brush your lips against his.

"Just fuck me already." You pant, blunt with your response as the two fall into silence.

"Fuck." Ominis curses before surging in to press his lips against yours. Sebastian almost falls back at the sudden pressure but recollects himself as he busies with kissing your neck.

Hands begin to grope at your body. Sebastian's hands gripped your waist as he moved his hips up against yours, his bulge rubbing against your heat. Ominis cups the nape of your neck to angle you for a deeper kiss. You open your mouth, allowing the blonde to intertwine his tongue with yours.

"You're so fucking pretty," Sebastian mumbles shakily as he continues to place more marks on your neck, taking advantage of a sweet spot as you moan in surprise. "She's so fucking beautiful, Ominis."

"Yeah?" Ominis responds breathlessly as he pulls away for a moment before diving in for more. "Of course, she is."

Your hands find their way into their respective hairs. Gripping the roots tightly as you pull them closer to you. The two groan in pleasure. The three of you continue to make out before Ominis pulls you back with a tug on your hair.

"On your knees, baby." He licks his lips, savoring your taste on his lips. "Suck Sebastian off."

You pant as you look back at the brunette behind you who looks at you two with lust in his eyes. Sebastian smiles smugly. "You heard the man."

You giggle before rising from his lap, placing a chaste kiss on Sebastian's lips before kneeling in between his legs. Ominis moves to your left as you unbuckle his slacks before pulling down to expose his member, watching as it slapped heavily in between his thighs. Taking his cock in your hands, you gather your drool in your tongue before dripping it down your mouth as a form of lubricant. You perform swift up-and-down motions to start it off.

"Fuck, that's it." Sebastian moans as he runs his hands through your disheveled hair. Ominis listens to his moans before feeling his way up Sebastian's shoulder and finding it's way into his curls. He grips his hair and crane his head towards him. Sebastian moans loudly at Ominis's hold on him.

"Tell me what she looks like," Ominis whispers into his ear as he places wet kisses on his jaw before biting his earlobe. He then harshly pushes his head down towards you which gives you a signal to start using your mouth on him. You lean down to take his cock in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down as you use your hands to take what you can't fit in.

Sebastian chokes his moan as he feels Ominis's grip on his head become tighter. "S-She's taking it all in. Like a good fucking girl."

Ominis hums at his response. You look up towards Sebastian innocently as you pull slightly back, sucking on his tip before you twirl your tongue around it like a lollipop.

"F-fuck— Ah. She— She looks so perfect with my cock in her— A-ah! I-In her mouth. Look's so fucking pretty— Merlin's beard." Sebastian stumbles over his words as you bob your head faster. Ominis smirks against Sebastian's cheek before he speaks parseltongue into the brunette's ear. You feel the shiver and twitch of Sebastian's hips as his face becomes flushed red at Ominis's hypnotic speaking of the language of snakes.

It seems as if Sebastian enjoyed it too much as a hand wraps itself around his neck, gripping it tight as Ominis continues to speak in tongues to his ear. Sebastian whimpers, eyes rolling back before the blonde moves his grip on his neck to his jaw to pull him into a deep kiss.

You moan at the sight of the two making out, encouraging you to give the best fucking head Sebastian Sallow has ever fucking had in his life. With a twist of your hand and fast bobs of your head, Sebastian archs his back in sensitivity, breaking away from his kiss with Ominis. His body curls as he grips your hair, pulling you away from his dick.

"F-fuck wait." Sebastian whines as he pants, not handling the intense pleasure from your mouth on his dick and Ominis's mouth on his, especially the fucking parseltongue. He almost came in your mouth if it weren't for his swift reaction. You twist your hand over his tip to tease him. He then transfers his hand from your hair to your neck, gripping it firmly. "I said wait. Can't follow simple fucking instructions. Get up."

You whimper as Sebastian pulls you up from the floor through the grip on your neck before moving his hands to grip the back of your thighs to carry up you and wrap them against his waist. He settles you down on the desk before pushing you back to lie down on it. Ominis moves to the other side of the desk where your head is placed. The two make haste on pulling your clothes off of you, leaving you bare and naked on the wooden surface.

"Fucking gorgeous," Sebastian mutters under his breath as he runs his hands on your thighs before pulling them apart to stare at your pussy. Ominis runs his hands on your chest, groping your breasts into his hands. The blonde groans at the feeling of your body within his grasp. He remembers dreaming of this very moment and it's now within the palms of his hands (literally).

Sebastian pushes your thighs up against your chest and you whine in embarrassment at the exposing position. Sebastian chuckles at your sudden shy behavior. "Don't worry, it'll pass. I'll make sure of it."

You could barely process Ominis's groping on your upper body before you feel Sebastian's tongue on your cunt. You gasp at the sudden feeling which makes Ominis smile.

"Sebastian, wait—"

"I told you to wait awhile ago, why would I do that?" Sebastian retorts before diving in and devouring your pussy like a man finally quenching his thirst. His tongue licks back and forth on your clit before sucking it. He then presses the flat of his tongue, moving it up and down before using the tip and move in circular motions. He slurps the juices dripping out of your pussy, moaning at the taste. The vibration of his moan causes you to moan loudly in pleasure.

"Sebastian— Oh fuck! fuck.. fuck!" You pant as you grip Ominis's arms, taking what Sebastian's giving. "Don't stop, please please please please!"

"Yeah?" Ominis leans down to caress your face, feeling the tears drip down the side of your face. "Little dove crying because you feel too good, hm? Poor girl."

You sob as Sebastian continues to assault your pussy with his tongue. Pleasure courses through your veins as the brunette between your legs manhandle you into the position he desires. Ominis basks in the sounds of your moans and the wet and messy slurps of Sebastian's work. His cock twitches against his pants. He eases the pain by using his free hand to rub against the front of his slacks. You look up at Ominis who continues to caress your face. "Ominis..."

"Hm?"

"Kiss me." You whine softly as you feel a knot slowly build up in your stomach. Sebastian continues to eat you up and a building pressure reveals itself in the process. Ominis smiles at you before leaning to place a kiss on your lips, upside down. He swallows your moans of pleasure as he pushes in his tongue, slowly and passionately kissing you deeply.

Sebastian glances up from his position, furrowing his eyebrows at the loss of your pathetic moaning. He smirks as he sees you focused on kissing Ominis before deciding to take matters into his own hands. He moves up to your clit, focusing the attention of his tongue there before adding the usage of his hand, gently rubbing the entrance of your cunt. You gasp at the sensation before yelping at the insertion of a finger inside.

"Ah!" You pull away from Ominis in the process as Sebastian eases his fingers into you. The brunette glances at the blonde with a smirk and a light chuckle. Ominis definitely heard that.

"Feel good, pretty girl?" Sebastian hums against the side of your thigh as he watches his finger go in and out of you before adding another one. You let out a measly moan in response. "I need to hear an answer."

"M-Mhm." You moaned out as he begins to curl his fingers up, pushing it deep within you. Sebastian pushes back against your clit, sucking it and licking it well for you. The sensation of his tongue and fingers begin to bring you closer to the edge. "Oh, fuck."

"Close?" Ominis whispers as he leans down against your ear. You let out short breaths as you feel the knot slowly unravel. Sebastian enters another finger as he speeds up the process. His fingers begin to reach depths even yours couldn't reach. It felt so fucking good as the tips of his fingers brush against a sensitive spot within you that jolts your back into an arch. It was there yet it wasn't. Sebastian's tongue flicks and sucks faster against your clit as you descend rapidly into the madness.

"Let me cum, please. please." You whined as your hand reaches up to intertwine with Ominis's locks. The blonde torments you from above as he sucks marks alongside Sebastian's work during his time on your neck from awhile ago.

"Go ahead, pretty girl," Ominis whispers in your ear alongside Sebastian's ministrations. The knot unravels fast as your body shakes violently in their care. Your orgasm is hard and slow as Sebastian does his best to lengthen it, your thighs crushing his head close against your heat. You let out long and loud moans as your body rises from the desk in the process. Ominis grabs you against his chest, kissing the side of your head softly as Sebastian continues his assault between your thighs, making sure to slurp every last bit of your release. "There you go."

"Stop, stop!" You reach a hand down, trying to push his face away from your heat. You let out a small laugh from the sensitivity as he continues to mouth your cunt.

"Tastes so fucking good," Sebastian growls as he pulls away, lips red and chin dripping with your arousal. He places a gentle kiss on your clit as you twitch in sensitivity at the action before kissing his way upwards and pulling you into a deep kiss. Your tongues intertwine as your back rests against Ominis's chest. The blonde's hand runs through Sebastian's locks, gently petting his head as the two of you kiss. His free hand moves to where your lips are connected, probing his index finger within your tongue as he tries to feel you two kiss. Ominis lets out a shaky sigh at the feel of your tongues moving against one another before you two pull away.

The brunette looks up at you with a smile. "How'd you want us?"

You take a breath as Sebastian places a chaste kiss on your cheek while Ominis places one on the side of your head. "Ominis inside. You get my mouth. He's been on the sidelines for way too long."

Sebastian nods with a cheeky grin. "Got no complaints there."

Ominis places a kiss on your forehead as he helps you up before exchanging places with Sebastian. The brunette sits on the desk as you stand between them with Ominis behind you. You hear the rustling of clothes behind you before turning around to look. Ominis had taken off his coat and bottoms, leaving him bare from the waist down. His cock slaps heavily up against his stomach, dripping pre-cum from the amount of waiting he had done. Throughout your sexual escapade, Ominis opted to listen in on your and Sebastian's pleasure than himself. He was more of a observer, preferred ordering the two of you and revel in the moans and pants pulled by pleasure. You take a note to spoil him further in the future.

He pulls you back against his chest as he moves close to you and Sebastian. The brunette cups your cheek, placing a peck on your lips before he travels his hand to the top of your head and pushing you down gently to his cock. You eagerly use your mouth to pleasure him, slipping it inside and try to take him all in.

"Damn, fuck. Can never get used to this. Your mouth is a fucking haven, baby." Sebastian curses as he feels the tip of his cock reaches the back of your throat. You choke slightly at the deepness of his dick before bobbing up and then down, forming a rhythm. The brunette tilts his head back in pleasure, letting out soft moans as his fingers tighten within your locks. Ominis listens in on his moans as he uses his wand to conjure a lubricating charm before pumping his dick for a bit of stimulation. He lets out a moan before pressing the his cock against your folds.

You moan at the feeling of a new sensation against your heat. Ominis places a hand on his shaft, rubbing the tip against your folds. He slides it against your clit, moving it in circular motions and hears your appreciative moan. His free hand then grabs your waist as leverage before finally positioning the tip against your entrance. "I'm pushing in, love."

You hum against Sebastian's dick in response before feeling the pressure of Ominis's cock split you open. He was a bit longer than Sebastian but the brunette was thicker. The two were already considered big and the moment that you felt the two of them inside you made you all the more conscious of their size. You whimper against Sebastian's cock, unable to move as Ominis continues to slide in his cock.

Sebastian glances down at your tear-stricken face, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. Ominis bottoms out with a groan, letting you adjust for a moment before beginning to move. The jostle of Ominis's hips propels your forward causing Sebastian's dick to go deeper inside your mouth.

"Yeah. Liked getting fucked by Ominis?" Sebastian taunts as he brushes your hair away from your face. A bruising grip on your hips that you're sure will mark you in the morning, pulls you back with every thrust. Ominis's cock reaches depths farther than Sebastian's fingers, the curve of his dick and the ridges alongside it brushes deliciously against the soft walls of your pussy.

You moan in response as Sebastian begins to move his hips, thrusting into your mouth. You choke as you feel his throat touch the back of your throat once again.

"Support her upper body." Ominis orders. Sebastian places a hand on your shoulders as Ominis grabs both of your hands, twisting them against your lower back, holding them both with one hand as he suspends your upper body in the air with Sebastian's help. The position allows you to be completely at their mercy as Sebastian fucks your mouth at this point and Ominis's thrusts go deeper, faster and harsher.

You can only shriek and moan against Sebastian's cock as you take what they give you. Sebastian feels his release fast approaching, hips stuttering. "Holy fuck, I'm close."

You allow him to use your mouth as he pleases, thrusting fast into your mouth as he moans loudly at the process. Ominis leans down, placing a kiss on your shoulder before growling in your ear. "Don't waste a single fucking drop."

His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine and it seems as if Sebastian also heard it. The brunette releases with a choked moan, spurting his release into your mouth. He moans as his hips jerk in sensitivity, emptying it all before slumping on the desk. You swallow it all before coughing, finally being able to breathe.

Ominis takes this as an opportunity to fuck you harder.

"O-Ominis!" Your voice raises in pitch as his hips hammer against yours. He releases your arms, opting to pull you up against his chest. His hands busy themselves with your breasts as he grunts into the crook of your neck. "O-Oh fuck. Right there."

Sebastian smiles lazily as he watches his best friend rail you to the point that your eyes roll back in pleasure. To give you a more pleasurable experience, he raises a hand to wrap his fingers around your throat, gripping it with enough pressure to hear you whine and moan.

"Yeah, that's fucking right baby. Sebastian's choking you again? You love that shit." Ominis growls against your ear as he pounds your tight pussy. He angles his hips to hit that spot that Sebastian grazed over with his fingers, pulling louder moans from you. Your eyes lock with Sebastian's as Ominis fucks you from behind.

"Pretty girl's crying because you're fucking her too good." Sebastian laughs as he leans forward to kiss your tears away. Ominis chuckles against your neck. You could feel your release fast approaching as a hand makes it's way down to where you're connected.

"Mm, stretched so fucking well for me." Ominis hums before moving to your clit and circling it fast deliciously. Your moans get louder.

"Ominis, Sebastian!" You whine as you feel your release fast approaching. Sebastian tightens his grip on your throat making your moans choked as Ominis fucks you faster and deeper.

Already feeling the edge of his release, Ominis rubs faster as his hips stutter. His pace becomes harder and harsher. "Cum baby. Cum."

You let out a high-pitched whine before finally reaching your climax. Your knees shake, almost giving you up before Ominis grips you up, supporting you against his chest. You let out loud moans as your orgasm wreaks havoc throughout your body in violent shakes. Tears stream down your face at the intensity of your release and Sebastian smiles at the beauty of it all. Ominis continues to pump his cock inside, reaching for his release. "Where?"

"Inside. I-I'm on the potion. Please, cum inside." You moan as you lock eyes once again with Sebastian, his grip loosening from your neck as he pulls you into a kiss. Ominis grunts before releasing inside. He moans loudly, bottoming out as he orgasms. "Good girl."

You rest your upper body in Sebastian's embrace, waiting for Ominis to finish before whimpering as the blonde pulls out. Ominis runs a hand down to your cunt before pushing the cum back in. Sebastian chuckles as he hears you let out another weak moan.

There's a moment of comfortable silence as you three catch you breath from the amount of strenuous activities you've done in the past few hours.

"Damn, that was probably the best sex of my life." Sebastian chuckles, breaking the silence as he pulls you fully into his embrace. You rest your head on the crook of his neck while Ominis runs a hand through his hair.

"I'm so tired." You groan in exhaustion. "I'm not moving a single fucking muscle. This is both of your fault."

"Me too? It's Ominis who you should be blaming. The man was railing you to fucking oblivion." Sebastian jests which receives a harsh smack on the back of his head. You chuckle at the crisp sound of Ominis's palm hitting Sebastian's head.

"You literally fucked my throat. Sore throats are a bitch to cure." You weakly pull away from Sebastian's embrace, feeling the ache on your ass. Ominis notices your discomfort from your grunts of pain.

"Did I go too far?" The blonde shyly asks. You turn to look at him with a soft smile. You had the hardest and best fucking orgasm of your life and now this man was acting all shy and cute after he had just practically destroyed any other chance of another person reaching that kind of level with you. You couldn't really blame him after he had just ascended you to a different realm with his dick. Sebastian helps you up before you place a kiss on Ominis's lips.

"Don't worry. I loved it." You reassure him. Sebastian and Ominis help you get dressed before the two focus on their garments. Sebastian casts a cleaning charm to any suspicious fluids that might have touched any surface while Ominis casts Reparo to the destroyed piles of paper scattered on the floor (a product of their haste to fuck you moments ago).

There's a moment of silence after cleaning up as the three of you stand, fully clothed in the empty office space. This time, Ominis makes the first move. "I assume from all that's happened that you know we're still pretty much in touch with our feelings for you."

Sebastian looks at you, assessing your facial expressions as you looked at them both. Sebastian continues. "This can be a one-time thing if you don't want to delve deeper into it. We also don't mind if you prefer one over the other. Our friendship will remain intact, that I assure you."

You look at them both as their body language speaks of nervousness and fear of rejection. You doubt your friendship will ever be fixed if you chose one of them. You roll your eyes playfully. "I literally just got fucked by both of you and you're telling me to choose one?"

"I— well." Ominis tries to reason. Sebastian is silent for a moment before shrugging in agreement.

"I mean she's got a point." The brunette chuckles. You limp towards them, Sebastian's hand reaching out for you while Ominis's arm wraps around your waist.

"I assume you're choosing us both, correct?" Ominis clarifies. You chuckle at his need for reassurance before reaching up to place a kiss on his lips before turning to Sebastian to give him one as well.

"Yes. I am." You firmly answer. Ominis lets out a smile while Sebastian laughs softly. "Now please apparate me home, I'm not walking another fucking corridor after what you guys put me through."

"Yes Ma'am."

A/N: ITS DONE OFMHDHDH this took way too long but I had fun writing it. It's my first time writing filth and I hope it was up to satisfaction 😭🧎‍♂️🫶 will probs cringe at this in the future. TYSM.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x reader #arthenaa #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x reader #ominis smut #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy smut #filth #absolute filth

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cyberslvts · 1 year

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SWEET TALKER || w.maximoff

Summary: In the bustling city of New York, two ambitious entrepreneurs, Wanda Maximoff and Y/n L/N, have been fierce competitors in the industry of mechanical engineering. You and Wanda have been at each others throats fighting for the top spot. However, Your opinions on the Scarlet woman change after she approaches you one night with a business proposal.

Warnings: 18+ rivals to lovers, office romance, angst, smut, teasing, oral (r recieving), fingering (r recieving), marking/biting, little twist at the end (i love drama). Wrote this on my flight to Hawaii (teehee)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

WC: 6.1k

Part 2 | Part 3

The names Y/n L/n and Wanda Maximoff had become synonymous with power and dominance in the bustling streets of New York City.

Y/n L/n was the heir to the L/n family empire, a legacy that had its origins in the late 1950s. Back then, L/n technology had been at the forefront of demand, supplying the country with groundbreaking innovations. Their influence was so profound that buildings, schools, and billboards bore their name in honor. They became the embodiment of high society and untouchable success in America.

However, after the passing of Y/ns father, the company’s prestige and reputation went downhill. Soon L/n. Inc was buried by other up-incoming engineers with bigger ideas, faster solutions, and more efficient products. What was once America's most prestigious company was now a forgotten memory.

Until your twenty third birthday arrived, and your father's will stipulated that upon his passing, the empire would be handed over to the eldest L/n child.Taking charge of the company, you unleashed your unrelenting drive. For years, you had observed your father's tireless nights of work, and the dedication he poured into the company. His legacy became your purpose.

Growing up, your life revolved around your father's teachings and his pursuit of excellence. From a young age, he immersed you in the world of science and technology, and you soaked up knowledge like a sponge. As he explained the intricate molecular structure of vibranium, you sat in awe in your high chair, absorbing every word.

From that moment on, you were expected to be nothing short of a carbon copy of your brilliant father. Academics became your priority, and you quickly excelled in the math and science fields. However, this dedication came at a cost – you sacrificed social outings and events during high school, choosing instead to spend your time perfecting your craft and living up to your father's high standards. Long hours were spent hunched over a desk, diving deep into research and innovation. Now, with the responsibility of the company resting on your shoulders, you were determined not to let all your father's hard work go to waste. The thought of allowing untalented and entitled individuals to take over what was built with so much passion and dedication ignited a fierce determination within you.

After inheriting the company 10 years ago you immediately rose through the ranks and L/n. Inc was back on the tabloids as New York's top engineering company. Driven by a relentless ambition, you earned your place as a formidable figure in the engineering landscape. Your brilliant ideas along with your father's teachings allowed you to refine your technology and weapons to perfection. The demand for your products was through the roof and you made millions. High-paying investors from all around the world were coming to New York to see and buy your designs.

Your cold, focused, and reserved nature, along with your rapidly growing empire intimidated potential competitors, which gained you the respect and prestige you needed to uphold the company’s reputation.

You were unstoppable.

That was until Maximoff Industries.

Maximoff Industries was Sokovias most prominent and respected engineering company. Even though they were still relatively new to the field that didn’t stop them from breaking countless records and rising through the ranks Once they decided to relocate to New York. As expected they were quick to put a dent in your sales numbers.

At the heart of it all was Wanda Maximoff – a powerhouse of a woman, displaying a captivating aura that draws people in. While not as cold and detached as you, she maintains a level of professionalism that commands respect and admiration. Some might even describe her as friendly, with a warmth that contrasts the cool exterior of her competitor. But beneath her approachable demeanor lies an unwavering determination and a fierce desire to become the best engineering company the world has ever seen.

Thus, a rivalry was formed. The competition between both of your Companys was electric. Every Month either you or Wanda was ahead. You had your team work themselves until the brink of death coming up with new ideas that would outsell Maximoff Industries. The same trope echoed within Wanda's company, as her team matched your dedication step for step. Late nights and early mornings became the new reality as she dissected every aspect of your technology, searching for any imperfections. Anything she could use to break you down.

The rivalry between your companies intensified with each passing month, setting the business world abuzz with anticipation and excitement. Photos, articles, and Newspapers were being published every month detailing any upcoming projects or interactions you two had with each other. Whenever asked about anything Wanda related your responses were always the same.

“No comment”

“Would rather not say”

“I'm not allowed to say anything”

You always tried to stay out of the media as much as possible, you knew how everything was twisted or taken out of context in order to satisfy their audience. Wanda on the other hand couldn’t seem to get enough of the overwhelming attention. Always happy to give detailed responses to random interviewers on the street and pose for photographers, even though it was clear they were following her. She was basically their only outlet to you since she apparently had no filter when it came to the paparazzi.

“I heard she's working on a new type of AI device that's going to be used in search and rescue missions”

“Of course, we don’t hate each other! Just Friendly competition!”

“She's single, I think. But with her looks, who knows?”

Her latest interview sparked a plethora of theories among the people of New York, The press finding endless entertainment in your perceived connection. Were they secretly working together? Dating? Sleeping together?

Amidst all the success and recognition, there was one area that remained untouched – matters of the heart. Your relentless dedication to the company and your guarded demeanor left little room for personal connections. Love had always seemed like a distraction, and you found comfort in pouring your energy into your work, your empire, and your dreams.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, throwing the open-faced magazine on your desk. This is exactly why you stayed out of the press. Once they found out one little snippet of information about you they would twist it around just to fuel their crazy theories. Now you would have to prepare yourself to be bombarded with flashing camera lights and microphones being shoved in your face all while you were just trying to get to your car.

Yet, compared to past allegations, a dating rumor was almost a relief. In October, you'd been accused of murdering your father to claim the business. Another scandal involved pregnancy after declining a drink at a New Year's Eve party. A dating rumor would likely fade within a week.A dating rumor was a piece of cake. You’d been accused of sleeping with a number of people in the past. It would blow over within a week.

Your eyes trained back on the magazine cover “A secret scandalous affair” followed by photos of you and Wanda. Your thumb found its way to your teeth as you leaned back in your big office chair with the magazine in your hand. Your interest starting to peak. At least this rumor was somewhat entertaining for you. Typically the people you were accused of sleeping with were past friends of your father, who were old, fat, or balding.

Amongst your hatred for Wanda, you couldn’t help but be captivated by her. Her beauty was undeniable. Your eyes gazed upon the photo in the magazine, it was a photoshoot Wanda had done for a sponsorship a few months ago. She wore a dark red suit that fit perfectly around her body, her hair cascaded past her shoulders as she gazed into the camera with a gentle smile. She was posing in the streets of Manhattan, surrounded by giant buildings that framed her gorgeous figure. pedestrians blurred in the background which only highlighted her powerful presence. Her bright green eyes stared right back at you as you continued to observe the photograph. Her arms, legs, nose, lips-

“What are you reading?”

You were startled out of your daze, quickly shutting the magazine and sitting up straight in your seat to see Natasha raising an eyebrow and giving you a confused look.

“Nothing. just these ridiculous magazines I keep getting sent” you replied, moving a stack of papers over the cover.

Natasha suspiciously observed your rather shaken-up demeanor as she was expecting your serious deadpan face when she walked in not you ogling at a photo of Wanda Maximoff “Ok. Well… just wanted to tell you the monthly report came back in and once again we are second to Maximoff, by 5 sales this time”

“What. Are you sure? The last time I checked…” Your focus trailed off as you began clicking through different files on your computer.

“I'm sure. It's that new drone she just released. Stark Industries just bought ten of them” Natasha's hands were now in her pockets, observing your worried yet focused expression which was glued to the screen of your computer. Natasha was the Vice president of L/N Inc. And you owed most of your success to the redhead. She was the backbone of the company and shared the same passions and desires as you.

Those weeks were it seemed like you were working yourself into a grave in order to meet upcoming deadlines, She was right by your side, writing notes, crunching numbers, filling out spreadsheets and even correcting the mistakes you rarely made. She kept all of your employees at the top of their game when you weren't there to bark orders at everyone, and you were almost positive you and the rest of the company would be a chaotic mess if it weren't for her.

“We need to move up the timeline for the AI robot release if we want to get ahead next month” Natasha was now in front of your desk handing you a blue folder “This is a new updated timeline for the project. I know it's faster than we planned but I think if we can get this AI out before September we have a chance at getting ahead of Maximoff for the October reports”

You sighed as you looked over the papers “Thank you, Nat. I really wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you”

She gave you a sympathetic nod before turning to exit your office. You felt the stress build in your stomach as you read over the new timeline. It was almost a month ahead of schedule, and you were still a third of the way from finishing the final project.

You were starting to get really sick of Wanda Maximoff.

————————-

The sounds of keyboard clacking and rustling papers were the only things heard in your large office tower, The building was eerily dark, the only light coming from the conference room on the 27th floor. Your back ached and your eyes felt heavy from hours of being hunched over your desk.

You finally decided to take a break, stretching your arms above your head and looking out the big glass windows that overlooked the city, only to be met with the darkness of night and speckles of light illuminating from other buildings. You blinked in surprise checking your watch. 1:46 am. Have you really been here that long?

You sighed and looked at the sprawled-out papers that almost covered the entire conference table, you decided to migrate down to the conference room since your tiny desk wasn’t big enough for this chaotic mess. The situation was growing more and more impossible with each passing minute. Despite brainstorming a multitude of strategies, the looming project deadline for September remained a stark reminder of your impending failure.

Frustration gnawed at you, a tempestuous emotion ignited by the mere thought of Wanda outperforming you in the upcoming monthly report.

Defeat was not an option. Sleep was a distant memory, and your social life had become a casualty of your unwavering commitment to your work. With a determined huff, you settled back into your seat, your brows furrowing as your eyes scanned the multitude of charts, graphs, and spreadsheets demanding your attention. The focus of your thoughts was abruptly interupted by a gentle knock, followed by the slow creaking of your office door.

“Natasha. I already told you I would be staying late” you spoke without looking up from the documents in your hand.

A melodious chuckle filled the air, accompanied by a voice you weren't expecting. “You know, you've been holed up in this tower for so long, I'm starting to think you're avoiding me.

Your gaze immediately shot up once you recognized the sultry voice you had become all to familiar with. There she stood, Wanda Maximoff in all her glory. She wore a loose dark red blouse, tucked into her long black slacks. She must have come straight from her office.

“How did you get in here?” you abandoned the papers, your focus now being shifted to the tall redhead standing in the middle of your conference room.

“Micheal let me in, told him I had important business to discuss with Miss L/N” she replied, removing a hand from her pocket to hold up a day pass badge she must have received from the janitor.

“Well, it looks like I will have to talk to Micheal about letting strangers into the building in the middle of the night” You were beginning to get more frustrated, you had enough to deal with as it is.

“Strangers? Please. me and you both know were obsessed with each other” she said with a cocky tone, only fueling the burning fire in your stomach. She was right of course. The rivalry between you and Wanda was more than just professional competition; it was an obsession that fueled both of your careers. you couldn't count the endless nights you spent researching the Scarlett woman, Watching every interview you could find of her, reading every article. Trying to find any source of information you could use to take her down.

Wanda, too, was caught up in the same game. But unlike her, you were a master at guarding your private life, granting only a glimpse into your world through one or two interviews or photographs a month – sometimes three, if the mood struck you. You were excellent at avoiding the paparazzi, a talent wanda was not fond of. She craved to know the person that was always at the front of her mind, the person that had occupied almost all of her thoughts for the past 5 years. The secrecy of Y/n L/N ignited a flame of curiosity and desire inside her. Even though your office buildings were only 2 blocks from each other, she felt like you were on an entirely different planet.

Your rivalry had become a dance of fascination, a battle not only for success in the business world but also for the chance to understand the person behind the titles and achievements. The world may see you as rivals, but deep down, you both knew that there was something more.

“Don't flatter yourself” you spoke while rolling your eyes your patience was getting thinner and the smirk on Wanda's face was not helping. “What do you want wanda? why are you here”

“I wanted to see how you were,” she said, the sincerity evident in her words, this was true. The demands of your rapidly growing empire caused you to withdraw from the outside world. You had been locked away in your office day and night, immersed in your work. You were going out less and less, missing out on the countless business events where Wanda had the privilege of catching a glimpse of you.

Although she grew accustomed to only seeing your presence once and a while at board meetings, exclusive events, or walking through the streets of New York, she was beginning to get frustrated. And a little worried about your growing absence.

You scoffed “Im fine, thank you” turning your attention back to your work, Picking up your abandoned papers and tapping them against the desk to shape them into a neat pile “Now as you can see I am very busy, so if there is nothing else I can help you wi-”

“I have a business proposal for you” she confidently spoke, meeting your cold stare, watching your face briefly contort into confusion before returning back to your usual cold stare.

You narrowed your eyes at her, inspecting her face for any traces of sarcasm. To your surprise you found none. “What are you talking about?”

She watched as you raised a hand to move your reading glasses to the top of your head. Her eyes glossed over at the sight of your hair pushed back, exposing more of your beautiful face.

“Im sure you've heard of stark industries” Wanda spoke, you shifted, of course, you had heard of stark industries.No one had heard of Tony Stark until last year. Within his first year, he had already broken twice as many records as you did when you were first starting out and had already risen to the number four spot in the country. Uncomfortably close to your rank. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Wanda's heels clacking on the floor as she made her war closer to you. Now Standing just a few feet from you “He offered me a partnership deal.”

Your face fell and your body froze. This was not good. If Tony and wanda were to partner up, that would be it for you. Panic started to bubble in the pit of your stomach. this news put a crack in the facade you were desperately trying to uphold. Wanda seemed to be enjoying herself watching your serious and cold demeanor crumble in a matter of seconds. “But I turned it down”

“What?” You blinked, making sure you heard her correctly “Have you lost your mind? What could have possibly possessed you to make such a stupid decision.” of course you were immensely relieved that she had declined the offer, however, you couldn't stop the frustration at wanda for turning down such a rare opportunity, An opportunity you would have killed to have. “If you came here just to rub this in my face-”

“I think you and I should partner up”

You were once again at a loss for words. Wanda stepped forward to take a seat closest to you. On one of the many large black swivel chairs in the conference room. “I want you. y/n.” You felt yourself heat up at her choice of words. “Tony's proposal got me thinking. You and I have been the owners of the 2 most successful engineering companies for almost a decade now. I've seen what you're capable of, Y/n. Your innovative ideas, and your dedication to your team, it's admirable. And I can't help but wonder what we could achieve together." Wanda continued, her voice gentle yet confident.

Your heart pounded in your chest as her words sunk in. Joining forces? You never thought you'd hear those words coming from Wanda's lips. The tension between your companies had always been palpable, and yet here she was, proposing a partnership

The conference room seemed to fade away as you considered her proposal. Working together with Wanda would undoubtedly be challenging, but the potential for greatness was undeniable. The combined expertise, resources, and talent of your two companies could create an engineering powerhouse, one that could outshine any new competition that arose.

As you took a moment to gather your thoughts, Wanda leaned in closer, her hand moving to rest on your knee "Think about it, y/n. I believe we could not only dominate the market but also push the boundaries of what's possible in engineering."

You narrowed your eyes at the woman sitting in front of you “Wanda, where is all of this coming from? you and I have been at each other throats for the past five years and now all the sudden you want to work together?”

Wanda's demeanor shifted, her eyes pierced straight into yours as she leaned forward to take one of your hands in her own. Her touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you couldn't ignore the rush of emotions welling up inside.

“Y/N. you are truly brilliant. Your designs are impeccable and You have an undeniable talent that I have been trying to replicate for years.” her hold on your hand tightened. You fell speechless at this confession. A sudden warmth spread throughout your chest. You searched Wanda's eyes for any trace of dishonesty but were only met with a look of raw truth. “Aren't you tired of fighting? wouldn't it feel good to build something great together”

You fell silent as your brain tried to formulate a response. You really weren't expecting this “There's no way it would work, we hate each other”

Wandas eyes softened “Oh, baby, I could never hate you” she spoke, and you felt something twist inside you at her sudden use of a pet name. “sure your constant desire to be better than me gets on my nerves from time to time. But hate? Never.” the sincerity in her words brought a sense of relief and curiosity to you.

The proximity between the two of you was getting thinner. Wanda was now so close your knees were touching and the smell of her expensive perfume flooded your senses.

“Do you want to know what I think” Wanda questioned with a slight smirk on her lips. You hummed in response, the lids of your eyes relaxing as your mind focused on observing the features of her face. “I don't think you hate me as much as you say you do”

“And what makes you say that” You leaned in closer

Wanda's eyes went up and down your body taking in the lovely sight of your slightly exposed cleavage, having undone the first few buttons before she arrived. “I think you want me, and that frustrates you” There was a beat of silence before you responded.

“That's ridiculous” You slightly pulled away, turning your head to avoid her burning gaze. Wanda only moved in closer, putting a hand on your thigh “Oh no I don't think it is. I think deep down, you crave for me as much as I crave you.” you clenched your jaw in embarrassment, your face felt like it was on fire.

Suddenly, She stood up, her hands moving to place themselves on the arms of your chair, hovering over you, enveloping you in her presence. “Truth is, you make me so angry y/n” You turned to look up at Wanda.

“I've thought about you almost every day for the past 5 years. I've thought about every possible way I could breakdown those walls you set up, find any crack just so I could see who you really are.” you felt the ends of her long hair brush against the apples of your cheeks, leaning down further to rest her knee right in between you thighs, pushing your back further into the chair.

“I don't like how I can’t get to you, I hate how you shut me out.” Wanda brought a hand to your chin, angling your face upwards to stare right back into her emerald eyes. “I hate that I can't have you.”

your eyes softened, reaching out to place a hand on the soft skin of her cheek. despite all the chaos that was you and Wanda, you felt a sense of sorrow illuminating from her. You couldn't help the tug you felt in your heart.

Her knee between your thighs sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the heat between you intensifying. The moment was electric, and the air seemed charged with unspoken desires. As she held your chin, her thumb gently caressing your cheek, you could see the raw emotion in her eyes, and it mirrored your own.

“Trust me, Wanda, I've always been yours,” you think in some twisted way it was true. You had practically built your empire on the dedication of her. You knew every detail about her, from the way her nose scrunched when she laughed, to the shimmer she got in her eyes just before she was about to tell a joke. You had invasively studied her for 5 long years. You went to bed dreaming of fiery red hair and woke up thinking about sea-green eyes. no other person had your attention like Wanda did.

Wanda's eyes darkened, her gaze moving down towards your lips. You felt all of the tension from the past 5 years building up in the room. What was about to happen was inevitable. You and Wanda both knew it.

Finally, Wanda leaned down to press her lips against yours, she started off slow, basking in the softness of your lips. As the kiss deepened, a sense of urgency overcame you both, and you could feel the walls that once separated you crumble.

Without a second thought, Wanda effortlessly lifted you off your chair and onto the desk. The sensation of being hoisted up caused you to gasp, to which Wanda took the opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth. Wanda's arms held you securely as you instinctively wrapped your legs around her waist. You moaned when you felt the hard metal of her belt press against your clothed pussy.

You suddenly pulled back, Wanda furrowed her eyebrows and tried to chase after your lips, “Wanda. You know if we do this…things will change” you breathlessly spoke, your tone laced with caution but also lust.

“Yeah. Yeah. I know” Wanda quickly responded, attempting to reconnect your lips.

You put a hand on her chest, stopping her from devouring you “Things could get messy… and complicated”

All of a sudden, Wanda pushed you so your back laid flat against the mess of papers, your legs dangling off the edge of the desk. Using one hand she grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them above your head. You gasped, your heart pounding in your chest as she held you firmly against the desk “Y/n. I know. Trust me, I have thought about this a lot.”

You didn't have a chance to respond before Wanda smashed her lips back into yours, she used her other hand to run up the side of your thigh, pushing your skirt up to your hips. She moved her lips down to the edge of your jaw and then your neck. “Your so perfect” she mumbled against the soft skin of your neck.

Her fingers worked to undo the buttons of your blouse, practically ripping it from your body and tossing it to the side. Her mouth returned to your body, her teeth nipping at your collarbones as she moves her hand underneath you to unhook your bra.

You couldn't help but moan out when her mouth enclosed around one of your hardened nipples. With her hand still binding your wrists above your head you could only arch up your chest further into her mouth, letting out a pleasure-filled groan when she used her other hand to pinch a roll your other nipple between her fingers.

“You don't know how long I have been waiting to see you like this.” She groaned into your chest, Sending vibrations into your skin.

She finally let go of your wrists bringing her hand down to cup your pussy, now able to freely use your hands you tangled them in the mess of red hair that was splayed all over your chest.

Using her fingers she swiftly moved your panties to the side.

Wanda almost lost it when she pressed her hand against your pussy, feeling your wetness coat her fingertips. Her fingers ran up and down your slit, before she slipped them inside you, curling them right against your sweet spot.

“Fuck, Wanda” you harshly bit your lip, throwing your head back onto the desk. Wanda's fingers continued to pump in and out of you, setting a perfect rhythmic pace. You struggled to stifle the moans that threatened to escape, desperately attempting to hold onto any sense of dignity you had left amidst the overwhelming pleasure. However, It became clear that Wanda was determined to unravel you completely at this very moment.

“No, don't, I need to hear you.” Wanda breathlessly begged, momentarily pausing her fingers, causing you to let out a whine and buck your hips up to move her fingers deeper inside you. Surrendering, You moved your hand from your mouth, and as a reward she resumed her fingers, this time using her thumb to circle your clit. You were beginning to lose yourself in her, your senses becoming overwhelmed with Wanda. You wanted this feeling to last forever, to savor the feeling of her inside you.

Your moans were begining to get louder, Your jaw went slack against the side of her face as she continued to pump her fingers in and out of you at a ridiculous pace.

Wanda watched in pure adoration, your gorgeous face contorting in pleasure, your hips jumping up in fits to meet her hand, A rush of pride swelled up inside of her, knowing she could get this reaction out of you. y/n l/n. The daunting woman feared by half of the engineering industry. The same woman whom others could only dream of catching a mere glimpse of was now falling apart underneath her. Wanda couldn't help but want to be the only person who saw you in this intimate way. The thought of being the one who could unravel the layers of the formidable y/n l/n ignited a fiery wave of possessiveness within her.

“You're doing so good, baby” Wanda praised, returning her lips to your neck where she sunk her teeth into the softness of your skin and began to suck. Your eyes suddenly shot open and tugged on her hair causing Wanda to let out a groan, vibrating into your skin.

“Wanda don't, people will see” You were panting at this point, you could feel your orgasm building, the coil in your stomach threatening to snap at any given moment.

“I want them to see, I want everybody to know that you are mine.” her tone was assertive and dominating, her mouth never left the skin of your neck where she left behind deep red marks that you were sure would ache in the morning.

Her sudden possessiveness made you throb. A thrilling wave of desire surged through your body. Everything about Wanda was undeniably intoxicating – her confidence, her intelligence, the way she held herself with such magnetic allure. The way she looked at you with those intense, emerald eyes, the way her hands traced tenderly over your skin and the way she claimed you as hers ignited a primal response within you.

You surrendered to her, throwing your head back to give her complete access to you. her fingers just felt so good and her soft lips attacking your neck sent electric jolts throughout your body.

“God, fuck, wanda im gonna cum”

“Yeah? gonna be a good girl and make a mess all over my fingers?” Wandas fingers moved faster in you, her thumb moved to put more pressure on your clit, encouraging you to reach your climax. You buried your face in the crook of Wandas neck, biting into her shoulder as you fell into your orgasm, shaking and writhing against Wanda's tight hold.

“That's it, baby, keep going” wanda was moaning into your ear, feeling your wet walls tense and spasm around her fingers.

Wanda slowed down the pace of her fingers, letting you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm before gently pulling them out of you.

She placed soothing kisses over the bruises she had created on your neck, she kissed her way up your body until she met your lips. You sighed into the gentle feel of her lips against yours, basking in the feeling of your post-orgasmic glow.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, more than alright” you giggled, wanda smiled against your lips, holding your body flush against her. She pulled back to take in the sight of you. Your lips were swollen and red, a beautiful blush adorned your cheeks, and your chest was rising and falling with every heavy breath you took in. Your hair, which was now nothing more than a disheveled mess, cascaded past your shoulders, framing your face in a captivating way.

“Absolutely gorgeous” she breathed out. Her admiration evident in her voice

But before you could fully revel in the moment, your intimate bubble was abruptly burst by a loud knock on the door of the conference room. Both you and Wanda shot up, eyes wide with panic rising in you.

“Miss L/N, are you still in there? I need to vacuum before I head out for the night.” You immediately recognized the voice as the company's janitor Micheal—the one who had triggered the events of the night by letting Wanda into the building.

“Yes, Michael! I'll be out in a second!" Your voice came out slightly higher than normal as you swiftly pushed Wanda away, hastily pulling your skirt back down to your knees and frantically searching for your discarded top. Your heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety, trying to regain your composure as the interruption jolted you back to reality.

Wanda, seemingly amused by your frazzled state, observed you with a playful glint in her eye. You felt a rush of vulnerability as you ran around the room, both arms instinctively covering your chest to shield yourself from Wanda's piercing gaze.

As you searched for your top, she reached for the silk blouse that had been resting on the head of a swivel chair and offered it to you. You reached out to take it, but just as your fingers brushed against the fabric, Wanda pulled her arm back, causing you to stumble and fall into her embrace. She held you close, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you. In the closeness of the moment, her words rang in your ears, reminding you of the business proposal she had made earlier.

"I want you to consider my offer, y/n," she whispered softly, her breath tickling your ear. "I meant what I said before. I truly believe we could achieve great things together."

The wave of embarrassment mixed with the excitement of the moment as you tried to cover up your exposed front from Wanda's lingering gaze. “I will. But can we please discuss this later?”

Wanda gave you a satisfied grin, handing you your shirt before stepping away to give you some privacy. As you swiftly turned around, you threw your shirt over your shoulders to cover the exposed skin of your back, and your fingers worked to fasten the buttons of your blouse. She observed you for a moment, taking in the sight of you as you composed yourself.

Deciding to take her leave, Wanda's heels clacked against the floor as she headed towards the exit of the conference room. However, with your back turned, you didn't notice her discreetly slipping a little red folder under her arm.

Unbeknownst to you, that folder contained the new timeline for the AI release, a pivotal piece of information that could shape the future of your company. In the midst of the intimate encounter, Wanda had managed to seize an opportunity to further her goals, using the moment to her advantage.

As she made her exit, a mischievous glint danced in her eyes, knowing that she had just played her cards strategically. The rivalry between your companies still burned fiercely, and she wasn't about to let the opportunity slip through her fingers. With the information concealed in that little red folder, Wanda was one step closer to gaining an edge in the competitive race.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #fanfic #elizabeth olsen

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 months

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Bowen McCurdy and Jordan Morris’s “Youth Group”

NEXT SATURDAY (July 20), I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

Youth Group is Bowen McCurdy and Jordan Morris's new and delightful graphic novel from Firstsecond. It's a charming tale of 1990s ennui, cringe Sunday School – and demon hunting.

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250789235/youthgroup

Kay is a bitter, cynical teenager who's doing her best to help her mother cope with an ugly divorce that has seen her dad check out on his former family. Mom is going back to church, and she talks Kay into coming along with her to attend the church youth group.

This is set in the 1990s, and the word "cringe" hasn't yet entered our lexicon as an adjective, but boy is the youth group cringe. The pastor is a guitar-strumming bearded dad who demonstrates how down he is with the kids by singing top 40 songs rewritten with evangelical lyrics (think Weird Al meets the 700 Club). Kay gamely struggles through a session and even makes a friend or two, and agrees to keep attending in deference to her mother's pleas.

But this is no ordinary youth group. Kay's ultra-boring suburban hometown is actually infested with demons who routinely possess the townspeople, and that baseline of demonic activity has suddenly gone critical, with a new wave of possessions. Suddenly, the possessed are everywhere – even Kay's shitty dad ends up with a demon inside of him.

That's when Kay discovers that the youth group and its corny pastor are also demon hunters par excellence. Their rec-rooms sport secret cubbies filled with holy weapons, and the words of exorcism come as readily to them as any embarrassing rewritten devotional pop song. Kay's discovery of this secret world convinces her that youth group isn't so bad after all, and soon she is initiated into its mysteries, including the existence of rival demon-hunting kids from the local synagogue, Catholic church, and Wiccan coven.

As the nature of the new demonic incursion becomes clearer, it falls on Kay and her pals to overcome these sectarian divisions over the protests of their guitar-strumming, magic-wielding leader. That takes on a special urgency when Kay learns why the demons are interested in her, personally, and a handful of other kids in town who all share a secret trait.

I confess that as someone who lived through the 1990s as a young man, there is something disorienting about experiencing the decade of my young adulthood through the kind of retro lens I associate with the 1950s or 1960s. But while the experience is disorienting, it's not unpleasant. McCurdy's artwork and Morris's snappy dialog conjure up that bygone decade in a way that is simultaneously affectionate and critical, exposing the hollowness of its performative ennui and the brave face that performance represented even as the world was being swept up in corporate gigantism.

McCurdy and Morris are really onto something here, implicitly asking us why the 1990s gave us Buffy and Sabrina (and The Coven, etc etc) – what was it about that decade in which Reaganomics and globalism consolidated the gains of the 1980s, where the climate emergency took on its undeniable urgency, where media monopolies mastered the art of commodifying counterculture faster than it could mutate into new forms?

Morris's writing really shines here. If you enjoyed Bubble, his earlier outing based on the post-apocalyptic comedy podcast of the same name, you will love this one:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/21/podcasting-as-a-visual-medium/#huntr

Morris is also half of Jordan, Jesse Go!, the long-running podcast where he and Jesse Thorn do a weekly ha-ha-only-serious goofball schtick that never fails to smuggle in really clever and insightful ideas amidst the poop jokes.

https://maximumfun.org/podcasts/jordan-jesse-go/

John Hodgman calls nostalgia a "toxic impulse." Church Group deftly avoids nostalgia's trap, managing to be a period piece without falling prey to the Happy Days pathology of ignoring the many flaws and problems of its era. And of course, it's a hoot and a blast.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/16/blight/#the-dream-of-the-nineties

#pluralistic #jordan morris #bowen mccurdy #firstsecond #graphic novels #comics #fantasy #reviews #gift guide #books

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gavisuntiedboot · 2 months

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Cherry on Top

Gavi X Physiotherapist! reader (birthday special!)

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: suggestive content!

A/N: I am back once again with more self indulgent fics for my baby boo thang's birthday !!!

~~~

"Doctoraaa! When are you coming home? I'm withering away from boredom and loneliness."

You could practically hear his pout through the phone, imagining him sprawled out on the couch with his feet in the air.

"Gaviraaa I am studying so that I can graduate on time! Or do you want me to keep making a student salary forever?" You held the phone between your ear and your shoulder, still furiously typing away at your sample notes for your advisor.

"What are you even studying? You basically run our whole club's rehab program by yourself. What else do they need to test you on?"

That was actually an excellent question. It was coming up on the two year anniversary since you had become a Barca employee, and you had almost fully taken the reigns. Dr. Gonzalez had checked out, waiting for you to get your degree so that he could finally retire. Nicolas was a good assistant, but was still heavily lacking in his ability to make quick decisions, so he was stuck doing basic PT most of the time. The show was essentially yours to run.

"This last year is testing my leadership ability and teaching skills. When I graduate, I will start running the intern program at the club, and so they have to make sure I can correct staff mistakes."

Your typing was getting progressively louder as you continued angrily editing the note in front of you.

"Take this idiot Aaron. He has not written a single coherent note since he got assigned as my mentoring project. If he were an employee he would have been fired weeks ago. But since this is a "training and learning" opportunity or whatever, I have to fix all his notes and send him the edits so he can learn."

You heard shifting on the other end of the line, and then a soft thud followed by some whispered profanity.

"Pablo please don't injure yourself."

"Maybe it will bring you home faster. Oh no my other ACL!"

Despite his giggle, you went quite on the other side of the line. The day of Pablo's injury had been one of the worst of your life. He had been playing for the national team, so you had no choice but to stare at your TV through glassy eyes, utterly and completely helpless. One of your friends literally had to prevent you from collapsing (though to this day you maintain that it was dehydration, not hysteria). He had called you from the sideline, and the pain in his voice just made you break further.

"I need you."

You had been waiting at the airport to receive him, official team gear on in an attempt to distract fans from the fact that you were fully embracing him and crying into his shoulder. You had almost gone insane in the lead up to his surgery, triple checking the credentials of everyone involved. You stayed by his bed for his entire stay, spending most days and night making sure he wore his brace and didn't make any stupid decisions. It was on one of these nights, when you were once again complaining about not having your favorite undereye cream at his house, that he once again asked you his favorite question.

"Why don't you just move in?"

As usual, you brushed the comment off. Gavi had been asking you to move in weekly for over a year now, always unfortunately dead serious. There was an innocence and simplicity in the way Pablo say the world that you wished you could emulate. He liked you, he was comfortable around you, and he wanted you to live with him. Simple, right?

But it terrified you. You loved Gavi, probably more than anything else in your life. But long withstanding trauma lives up to its name of being long withstanding. That feeling that the expiration date of your perfect relationship was approaching? That never went away. It was like the more time you spent with Gavi, the more you were terrified that he was going to figure out what was wrong with you, why no one could love you until this point in time, and run for the hills. Your apartment was the one space you still had to be irate and disgusting and genuinely yourself without being afraid of scaring him. And it would make it much easier when he eventually broke up with you to date a pop star or a model or Pedri.

"I'm being serious, princesa. You're here every night. You spend more time here than at your own place. You barely sleep in your own bed because you're just obsessed with me and want to take care of me all the time."

"Pablo, we've talked about this..."

"Yes," he said, sitting up and opening his arms in a gesture for you to come cuddle with him. "We have. Back when we had only been together for only three months and we didn't know if you would be able to put up with me."

"Hey!"

"Let me finish." He hugged you closer to his chest, resting his chin on your head and rubbing slow circles into your skin. It was hard to maintain your composure when you were like this, feeling the warmth radiating off his skin and the pressure of his lips kissing your crown every so often.

"We've been together for a year and a half now. I've seen you in bad moods, heard your yelling, plucked your chin hairs-"

He restrained you from getting up, giggling at your embarrassment. He really was the most adorable little thing on the planet.

"I've seen you at your lowest points. Which, admittedly mi amor, were not that low. I saw a tiktok of this guy who had to pull out his girlfriend's tampon. This could be much worse. Hey, look at me."

You turned over, your chest pressed to Pablo's as he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks. You had learned how to do this in the last year, how to steel yourself under his intense gaze. Pablo Gavi looked at you like he was in the presence of a divine being, eyes big and soft and filled to the brim with adoration. He looked at you like just your image was all he needed to keep breathing.

"I love you. So much that sometimes I don't know what to do with it. I want you to move in so I can take care of you, and so that it's easier to let you take care of me. I want to annoy you with my morning training alarm and make you coffee and maybe mess up your laundry when I try to do the washing."

"This is not a convincing argument so far, baby."

"I just want to live with you. And be around you. And hold you like a weighted teddy bear while I sleep."

"What if you get tired of me being around all the time?" You asked between smooshed cheeks, finally losing your ability to maintain his stare.

Gavi refused to even dignify the question with a verbal response, instead letting go of your face to lift the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over your head. Your cheek was practically burning up pressed against his abs, still defined and solid despite days of immobility.

"Doctora, this is how close I want you to be. At all times. I am about to sew you to my torso. So will you please move in?"

And it was then that you agreed to it. Now the house was littered with so much merch on the walls and shelves it looked like a sports store, but it was yours. A home. You spent months taking care of Gavi, from driving him to appointments to at-home physiotherapy sessions. You took every opportunity to place a gentle kiss on the scar on his knee (ya know, when you were down there ;) ) and avoided all clips that showed him in pain.

"Come on, Doctora. I'm okay."

"I know, I know... it's just not a memory I can bring myself to joke about. Not while you're still in recovery."

"I'm sorry, amor. Can you come home and scold me about it?"

You groaned again, resisting the urge to slam your head into your keyboard. The progress notes were really terrible.

"And besides, you need to finish packing."

This was true. In about 6 hours, you and Gavi would be on a plane for his birthday trip to Ibiza. He had been buzzing with excitement about his birthday trip for months now, eager to take you someplace where there would be nothing to distract the two of you. Just perfect sand and perfect sea for a perfect weekend. He had talked about going farther than Spain this year, maybe Italy or at least Portugal, but injuries have a great way of canceling travel plans.

You reluctantly agreed, telling Pablo you would be home in about 30 minutes, before you began to tidy your workspace. You sent a polite yet pointed email to Aaron (with the head of department CC'ed) explaining that the work was too terrible to be corrected, and he should clear up some time in September to train with you before the season began in earnest and you would be too busy to teach him how to spell "bradycardia".

It was always a humbling experience to pull into the driveway and park your beat up little car next to Gavi's team-sponsored beauty. You were dreading the day he upgraded to something nicer - the neighbors would start thinking that someone was there to rob him. He was already standing at the door smiling wide when you pulled in. He walked up to your door, grabbing all your bags and ushering you inside away from the heat. This had become a regular for Gavi - tracking your location to greet you the second you arrived - so there was really no need to question it anymore. You leaned over and kissed his cheek, eternally grateful for the gentleness he showed you. After a quick yet heated rant about the incompetence of some of the students in your program, you headed upstairs to continue packing.

"Pablo, you think I need to pack more than two dresses?" You asked, looking over the satins and crocheted pieces that your friend ensured you was "totally in".

"I don't think you need to pack any dresses. Or even clothes for that matter."

You raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend, who was leaning casually against the doorframe.

"Am I supposed to be naked for the whole trip?"

"Not the whole trip. Just pack some bikinis for during the day and some cute underwear for the night. The outfit you wear to the airport should be more than enough incase we ever need to leave." He walked over to where you stood in contemplation, arms wrapping tightly around your waist, and his head resting on your shoulder in the perfect position to kiss your neck.

"Be serious, Pablo. What if we want to go for a nice dinner for your birthday? I can't go in a thong or in my plane sweats."

He didn't stop his attack on your neck for an instant, addicted to the warmth and taste of your skin on his tongue.

"Mi amor, mi sol, mi vida - at the risk of being vulgar, I have to say that you will be the nice dinner on my birthday."

Your eyes went wide at this statement, and suddenly you were glad for his arms there to keep you upright.

"I don't even think I have more than one bikini that still fits."

At this, Gavi released you, running to the closet with your yells to slow down behind him (if you had a euro for every time you told him not to run in socks, you could pay off the club's debt). He came shuffling back out with a large black bag, which he promptly dumped out onto the comforter. There were at least ten swimwear sets in various colors and prints, ranging from polka dots to stripes to... was that cheetah print?

"I picked these out the other day. Well, actually, that's a lie. I sent your size to Aurora, and she placed the order online and I just picked up the bag at the store. Can you imagine what Instagram would do with pictures of me buying lingerie?"

"But there's no lingerie here?"

"Fuck." He scampered off once again, returning with another bag to repeat his previous actions. This time the contents were much more sultry, with dark silks and satins staring back up at you. Mainly reds and blacks littered the pale covers.

"Pablo, you shouldn't have. This is too sweet! But we are only going for three days. There's like a month worth of stuff here."

"Are you planning on never going out again after this trip? Just pick your favorites for this weekend. The rest will be waiting for you when you get back, just in case we ever go to the pool or you want to surprise your football star boyfriend by wearing these to work."

You couldn't even be mad at his words when your heart was so full from his gesture. Pablo was always buying you things - that was nothing new. But you had been worrying for days about not looking good on this trip, not having anything new to wear, and he took that burden off your shoulders.

"So I can pick any of these? They look expensive."

"Ay Doctora, don't upset me. Nothing is worth more than your happiness. I do have one request though."

"Yes, mi amor?"

"You have to wear this one on my birthday," he said while reaching past you to pick up a white bikini with red cherries printed all over.

"Why is that?"

"Because you're like the cherry on top of my birthday cake. You always look good, but I want you to look irresistible."

"Okay, let's relax that's a lot of talk for a- oh my God." Your eyes widened, and you grabbed Pablo's face with a dropped jaw.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh my God."

"You said that already."

"Pablo!"

"Yes, princesa?"

"An adult. You're going to be an adult tomorrow. As in not a teenager."

"We arrive at like 11pm so it's more like I won't be a teenager anymore tonig- are you crying?"

"I'm not going to have a teenage boyfriend anymore!" You threw your arms around him, hugging him so tightly there was a fear of his ribs cracking.

"I feel like I should be offended by this statement."

"3...2...1... Happy 20th birthday Pablito!" You said softly, a single cupcake with a lit candle on the top held before the birthday boy. It was the same as the previous year (iykyk), but this time with a red and yellow swirl to match the Spanish national team.

"Thank you, mi vida." He closed his eyes, deep in thought regarding his wish, and blew out the candle. He scooped up a dollop of frosting, placing it on your lips before kissing it gently away.

"I can't believe I get to spend another birthday with you," he whispered out, scared that anything louder would destroy the gentle atmosphere around the two of you.

After sharing more sugary kisses, you fell asleep on Pablo's chest, soothed to sleep by his slow heart beat and rhythmic breathing. You woke before him, placing a kiss on his forehead before getting up to dress, snickering quietly at his snoring. The poor boy was so exhausted. You put on the swimsuit he had picked for you, the material fitting you stunningly. You looked at yourself in the mirror and couldn't help but smile. The white and red complemented your skin, your hair framing your face still bare and slightly puffed with the remnants of sleep. Gavi's necklace dangled between your collar bones, the metal cool on your skin. Everything on your body was an expression of love.

Stepping out of the bathroom in your bikini and wrap around skirt, you found the bed suspiciously empty. There was a light breeze coming from the terrace, where you found your boyfriend leaning shirtless on the railing. As if sensing your stare, he turned over his shoulder and wave you to join him. The sun was starting to shine in earnest, the smell of the ocean filling your senses. There was no place you would rather be.

"Good morning, beautiful. I know I asked you to wear that, but I almost want you to take it off. You look too good - I'm scared I'll have to beat every other man away with a stick."

He took a seat on one of the deck chairs, and you took your rightful place on his lap, arms around his neck.

"Good thing this strip of beach is private then."

Your lips found his in a deep kiss, fingers traveling to play with the short strands at the nape of his neck. It was an intoxicating thing to kiss Pablo Gavi. His plush lips molded perfectly to yours, bringing you in impossibly closer. He was always so eager, gently nibbling on your bottom lip whenever he could catch it, soft breaths and little whines spurring you on. Neither of you could bring yourselves to stop, tongues tangled like high schoolers as you made out in the early August sun. His hands were firm on your hips, more for his benefit than yours. He was eager to drag you to the sand, but knew neither of you would leave the room if he allowed your hips to act on their own accord. He relaxed back, allowing you to take the lead, and whimpered a little louder when you bit his lip. It was your giggling that broke the kiss, and you rested your forehead against his, breathless and chest heaving.

"Big Bad Gavi likes having his lip bit. Who would've thought?"

He whined again, finding the column of your neck and to town, nipping and sucking, unwilling to not have his lips and tongue occupied by you just yet. When you started digging into his biceps, he released you, admiring his handy work.

"Pablo people are going to see." You said, pout on your lips and big eyes trained on your boyfriend. He kissed your jutting bottom lip and lifted you off him.

"Like you said - good thing this beach is private."

Pablo had so many moments with you where he thought "she could never be more beautiful than this". The first was the first night you fell asleep on his couch, face peaceful with sleep. The next was under the stadium lights, as he thrust a trophy in your hands and lifted you above his shoulders. Then it was in some French hallway, in a ballgown with no heels as he kissed you senseless, finally brave enough to take what he wanted. In coffee shops and grocery store aisles and on his mattress, he always thought there was no possibility for you to be more stunning. But as you lay stretched out on the sand, eyes closed and muscles relaxed, he had the thought again. The sun tinted your skin slightly, making you gleam like a goddess that had just emerged from the sea. The bright white against your skin had Gavi tingling, wanting to remove the pure material and access what it was protecting.

Your hair was soaked, and you laid on your stomach in the sand to gain some color and dry off after the exertion of swimming with Gavi. The sun was phenomenal on your damp skin, and you had never been more at piece. You felt a hand creep up your back, and suddenly your chest wasn't as supported as it should have been.

"Pablo! Did you just undo my top?"

"I'm just unwrapping my present."

He brought you to sit on his lap once again, your loose top fighting to remain around your neck.

"How private is this beach?"

"You think I would let you go topless if there was a chance another soul would see?"

You felt like a teenager again, embarrassed and looking around frantically for someone who would catch you in such an act with your boyfriend.

"I heard beach sex sucks and I'm not eager to get sand in my vagina."

"We're not going to have sex on the beach. I may be more grown up, but I still like seeing boobs every once in a while."

"So you just want to look at them?"

"Among other things. You want to see my checklist?"

You wrapped your arms around his neck once again, kissing him deeply as he fully removed the fabric from your chest. He brought a hand to your back, pressing you against him, your breasts flush against his chest. It was a thrilling sensation, being topless and against your boyfriend with the sun beating down against you both.

Gavi laid back on the sound with you atop him, unclipping you hair to allow it to fall down your back. In your current situation, you were still covered enough to not face public indecency charges. He played with the strands of hair, weaving his fingers into the locks as his teeth caught your bottom lip and sucked on it like his favorite hard candy.

"I'm going to have sand in my hair."

"Guess we'll just have to take a bath together so I can wash it for you."

You kissed him again, his fingers trailing up your torso and brushing the sides of your boobs, sparking electricity in their path. It was so high school: topless on a beach, making out with your boyfriend. But made you stir low in your stomach, a mix of desire and the deepest form of love. You loved Pablo Gavi. You loved his little antics, you loved the pleasure he brought to every aspect of your life.

"Enjoying your birthday so far?" You asked, reluctantly pulling away from his lips, chest heaving against his. Gavi took the opportunity to grab your breasts and squeeze lightly, playing with them like it was his favorite activity in the world.

"More than I can even express."

He brought you against him, arms around you and bodied pressed together, and laid back down.

"So you just wanted to feel me up while we make out?"

"I want to feel you against me, mi amor. I want you to feel how hard my heart beats when I'm around you. I want to do everything that comes to my mind with you. Being topless on the beach. Ordering everything on the hotel menu. Skinny dipping at midnight. Every experience in my life is better when you're in it. I want to make every memory with you, so that when we're old and hold hands in our matching wheelchairs, I can say "Hey remember when we were hot and young and topless making out in Ibiza?" I want to do everything in the world with you."

You pressed your lips to his again, a deep kiss that winded the both of you.

"I love you, Pablo. Happy birthday."

"I love you more, Doctora."

~~~

Okay here it is!! Happy birthday to the love of my life, the light of my soul, Pablo Gavi. I love this boy more than I can express, and he represents so much good in my life. I hope his 20th year is filled with every happiness in the world.

As usual, please like, comment, reblog - all the good stuff. If you like this dynamic, I have a full 10 part series of these two idiots in my masterlist. I also have an ongoing Pedri series! Check that out if it's more your speed.

Please also take a moment to check out the links on my pinned post to help families in Palestine. If you don't have the money to donate but still want to help, every comment with a watermelon emoji under my pedri posts = $1 I donate on your behalf. I think that's all I have to say. Love y'all <3

xoxo, GUB

387 notes · View notes

jetii · 2 months

Text

The Bet

Pairing: Kix x fem!Reader / Kix x Nurse!Reader

Words: 8,981

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! coworkers to friends to lovers, some blood/wound care but it's very minor, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), a hint of a praise kink

Summary: You and Kix have been dancing around each other for months. When losing a bet finds you alone in your apartment together for the first time, sparks fly.

A/N: I honestly was not a Kix girlie before writing this, so hopefully he's not too ooc!

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Kix watches you move about your small kitchen from his seat at the counter. The beer he nurses in his hand is still cool, the condensation softening the label enough for his thumb to peel, a nervous habit you notice but are too polite to mention.

You pause your stirring momentarily to throw him an exasperated look over your shoulder.

“I know.”

“I’m just saying you don’t need to do all this for me,” he says, gesturing towards the stove where a large pot bubbles, a delicious scent wafting through the air. “Pizza would’ve been fine.”

“And miss the opportunity to show off my excellent cooking?” you ask with a scoff, though it lacks any real conviction.

You turn to face him. He looks so out of place in your tiny apartment, perched on the stool that is dwarfed by his size. His shoulders hunch as if he's trying to make himself seem smaller, a feat in itself for someone so large.

You try to give him a smile that's more encouraging than teasing. “Not a chance.”

He shakes his head, returning the grin with one of his own as he looks down at his hands. The smile falls away when he sees the state of the label he had been absently peeling. He grimaces and balls up the ruined paper before throwing it at the trash can, a small ping echoing through the apartment as it lands in the center of the bin.

The corner of your mouth twitches into a smirk, and you roll your eyes playfully. Kix chuckles softly, and some of the tension dissipates from the room.

It's nice to hear him laugh after the week you've both had. You'd been near dead on your feet by the time the Resolute docked on Coruscant, but you'd promised Kix a proper home-cooked meal, and you weren't about to renege on your deal. A bet was a bet, after all.

Bets between the two of you were far from an unusual occurrence. Normally, it was simple things: what they were serving in the mess for breakfast, how many hangover remedies you'd have to administer after shore leave, or even just something as silly as who could finish their work faster. It had become so common to the point that the 501st was more than used to seeing you and Kix going back and forth, betting on just about everything.

This time was no different. You'd been arguing over a patient's chart one morning, and it had escalated until the two of you had settled on a bet. Whoever could get the most patients through their physical would win.

The only thing was that, by the time the two of you finally had the opportunity to settle the score, Kix had gotten the entire company in on it, and had somehow managed to get Rex to take his side. You had been absolutely furious at the time, but you got over it quickly when he made his request.

He could have chosen anything. He could have made you stay late or fill out paperwork for a week. He could have had you do something embarrassing.

Instead, he asked you to cook him dinner.

You don't have a lot of time outside of work, so when you do, you cook. It's your favorite hobby and one you're actually pretty good at. You take great pride in it. Cooking for Kix though? That's different.

It's not that you don't want to do it. On the contrary, you're thrilled by the opportunity. It's just that you want it to be perfect.

The apartment is quiet save for the sound of your work. You have the radio playing, the volume turned low so the music is more background noise than anything. You don't mind. You've always liked the sound of rain, and it gives you the opportunity to listen for Kix.

You'd noticed over the course of your friendship that Kix is usually quiet when he's comfortable. It had taken a while, but you learned his different silences. It was the same way he analyzed you: by the cadence of your footsteps and the tone of your voice. You'd learned to read him through those subtle indicators, and he had done the same.

Right now, he's content. There's no tension in his shoulders, and his breathing is even. You know he's watching you, his eyes tracking your movements. He looks a lot more relaxed here than he does at work, which isn't surprising. You've seen each other nearly every day since the start of the war, but you've never been able to spend time together like this. You're friends, sure, but you're also attracted to him, and you'd like to think he feels the same.

You've been dancing around each other for months, but neither one is brave enough to say something about it.

You make small talk, talking about nothing and everything while you cook. It's pleasant and comfortable and nice. You can feel his eyes on you as you work. The kitchen is small enough that he can watch you easily without having to leave his seat. You know he's enjoying the show.

“So, what are we having?” he asks.

You can hear the curiosity in his voice and grin.

When he'd made the request, he'd said he was up for anything, but you wanted it to be special. You have a plan, one that you hope he'll like.

You turn around, propping your elbows on the counter and leaning forward. He mirrors your position, and you're so close your noses almost touch.

His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn't pull back. You tilt your head. “It’s a surprise.”

And a good one, you hoped. You weren’t sure the last time you put this much effort into a single meal, but if you were going to impress him, you wanted to do it right.

You'd started the process early this morning and had been checking and rechecking your progress throughout the day. You're making a traditional Alderaanian dish, one of your favorites, and one you're pretty confident you can pull off. You're not a chef by any stretch of the imagination, but you know your way around a kitchen and have been told by those who love you that your cooking is exceptional.

You can only hope he'll agree.

Of course, this was a man who preferred to subsist entirely on ration bars and caf, who forgot to eat unless you forced him out of the medbay, but you still found yourself hoping to wow him with your family’s recipes.

When Kix showed up at your door, you could tell that he was nervous. You were too, but you tried not to let it show. You were doing this because you liked him, not to get a reaction out of him, but the anticipation of his response was enough to make your heart flutter in your chest.

He looked more than a little disarmed at the sight of you in your civilian clothes, and the feeling was mutual. You didn't think you'd ever seen him out of armor. When you invited him inside, he pulled out a bouquet of daylilies from behind his back, sheepishly explaining that Jesse insisted he shouldn’t show up empty-handed.

The bouquet he’d given you was beautiful. You didn’t have a vase to put them in, so they were soaking in water in the largest coffee mug you could find with ‘Galaxy’s Best Nurse’ in gaudy red letters on the side. You hoped they wouldn’t wilt before you could find something better to put them in. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time anyone had bought you flowers.

Kix was sweet, sweeter than you ever anticipated from your first meeting. On your first day aboard the Resolute, when Captain Rex first introduced you as the resident nurse aboard the ship, Kix took one long look at you and promptly rolled his eyes.

“She's not gonna last a week.”

Rex had looked ready to throttle him, but you merely gave him a wry grin and told him you were more than capable of doing your job.

He was quick to apologize, though you could tell he was more than a little skeptical, and the two of you had spent the better part of that first month trying to get on the other's good side. The first time he laughed at one of your jokes, it was like the floodgates opened. After that, it was easy, and the two of you quickly fell into an easy friendship.

You came to realize being blunt was just his way, though Kix was never as short with you as he was with his brothers. Jesse said it was because he had a soft spot for you, but you were more inclined to believe he just didn’t want to create a hostile work environment.

That was months ago, and a lot has changed since.

You enjoyed Kix. His dry humor always caught you off guard, even if you were getting used to it. He seemed to enjoy making you laugh. And at the end of a long day, he was always the first to ask if you needed help cleaning up the medbay, always the first to offer to walk you back to your quarters.

You shared plenty of late nights together, sometimes going over patient files or stocking supplies. Other times you simply sat together in the quiet, enjoying each other’s company.

You grew close. It was only natural.

Still, it didn't feel natural to invite him over for a home-cooked meal. You'd never been anything but professional with each other, even in private. You'd never seen him in civvies before and had certainly never imagined that his hair, longer now than you’ve ever seen it, might curl a little in the humidity.

It wasn't fair, really, how much you enjoyed the sight of him.

You had spent the day wondering if this was the right decision. You worried you were reading too much into his request, that you were imagining the interest you thought you saw. But if nothing else, you hoped tonight would provide some insight.

You wanted this to go well.

You didn’t know how much of that was for your sake or his.

You push back from the counter, and Kix makes no move to follow. You turn back to the stove and continue working, a grin pulling at your lips. You don’t think he realizes that you can feel his gaze on you. He doesn't make any attempt to hide his staring.

The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable, but there is an undercurrent of something else, a tension you're not sure what to do with. You know that you aren't the only one feeling this way. He'd been nervous when he first arrived, and though he was more at ease now, the tension hadn't dissipated.

It's not an unwelcome feeling. If anything, it's the opposite. You enjoy knowing he's watching you, that you’re having some kind of effect on him. You enjoy having him here, alone. It's a different sort of intimacy, a different kind of closeness. You wonder if it's a step in the right direction.

You're not sure what to expect from him, but whatever it is, you're ready for it.

“How long until dinner is ready, doc? I'm starving over here." You don't have to turn to see him smile. You can hear it in his voice.

"Don't rush me," you scold, and he chuckles. "Dinner isn't ready until it's ready."

"I can't believe you're making me wait. It smells delicious."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," you say, and you glance over your shoulder at him. "I was worried you wouldn't."

Kix raises his eyebrows. "Worried? About what?"

You turn away. "I don't know. I thought maybe you'd be disappointed."

"Why would I be disappointed?" he asks, sounding genuinely confused.

"I don't know." You shrug. "Maybe because we haven't really hung out before, and maybe you didn't want to, and—“

"No," he says, cutting you off. "I like spending time with you. I wanted to come."

You swallow, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the sudden tightness in your chest. "Oh."

"Besides, I've been meaning to ask for a while."

"Ask me what?" you ask, looking over at him.

He gives a half-shrug, the corner of his mouth twitching. "To have dinner with you."

Your face grows warm, and your stomach does a flip. You try to focus on the food, but it's difficult when all you can think about is the man behind you.

You hadn't realized just how much you wanted him to say that until he did.

"If it helps, I can promise that you won't regret it," you say, throwing a grin over your shoulder.

He leans his chin on his palm, grinning back. "I'm sure I won't."

You set a pot of water on the stove and turn on the burner.

"What're you doing?" he asks, sounding concerned.

"Boiling water."

"For what?"

"Kebroots."

He looks confused. "Aren't we having that stuff you're making now?"

"This is the sauce for the main dish," you say, gesturing with your spoon. It's easy to forget that he's never had a proper home-cooked meal in his life, and the thought of him getting to taste this one is more than a little thrilling. "The kebroots are going in the water."

"Why?"

"Because they need to boil."

He gives you a flat look, and you roll your eyes. "Do you want to know the answer to everything, or do you want to enjoy the surprise?"

"Fine," he says, sitting back. "But don't think you can keep me from learning your secrets."

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Is that so?"

He nods, grinning.

"Well, then," you say, smiling down at the pot. "I'll have to make sure you don't."

You're not usually one to play your cards so close to the vest. It's not like you to keep secrets, but there's something fun about the intrigue, something thrilling about keeping him in the dark.

"Can I at least have a hint?" he asks, resting his elbows on the counter.

You turn and prop yourself against the stove. "No. I already told you. It's a surprise."

"Come on, doc. You can't give me something?" he wheedles, his brown eyes sparkling with mirth. "Just a little something to tide me over."

"No."

"Please?"

"Nope."

"You're no fun."

"And yet, here you are,” you say with a teasing tilt of your head.

Kix grins, then sighs.

"Fine," he says and pushes back from the counter. "If that's the case, then I'm going to need more beer."

He disappears into the fridge. You don't turn, focusing instead on the task at hand. The sauce is nearly finished, but there are still a few steps left to complete.

You hear him move to your bookshelf, fingers lightly tapping along the spines of your books. You'd been surprised when he mentioned enjoying reading, since most clones you'd met didn't bother with it, preferring instead to watch holodramas or listen to the radio. But Kix liked books, which you were sure he kept to himself for fear of teasing from his brothers. You had a sneaking suspicion he was a romantic.

He stops to pull one out, running his fingers down the spine. "The Time Machine," he reads.

"It was one of my favorites as a kid," you explain. "I'm surprised it survived the trip here."

Kix puts it back in its place. "Have you ever read any of the Corellian Civil War holonovels?"

"No.” You shake your head. “I've never been a fan of war stories."

Kix snorts. "Me neither. There's only so many ways they can tell the same story."

"There's nothing like real-life experience," you say, and you immediately regret it.

"True," Kix agrees and doesn't press the matter. You’re thankful, your heart in your throat, that you hadn’t ruined the moment entirely, but you can’t help but feel a little on edge.

The two had been working together for several months, and though it wasn't uncommon for clone troopers and nat-born people to befriend one another, there was still an underlying tension between you, one that neither of you had the guts to address.

He'd asked you for dinner because he liked you. You accepted because you liked him.

Neither was quite sure what to do next.

The tension between you had grown more pronounced, and though neither of you made any effort to stop it, the unresolved feelings were starting to affect your work. You were both professionals and did your best not to let it interfere, but it was still there, a constant reminder of what was unsaid, a potential opportunity squandered.

Still, if you were going to pursue a relationship with anyone, you were glad it was him.

You had a fondness for him, and it had grown into something deeper. It wasn't just his looks. Though he was definitely the most handsome trooper in the GAR, that was never a primary consideration for you. You’ve spent nearly every waking moment around men who looked almost exactly like him, after all. But it was the differences, the small nuances that made him stand out, that drew your eye.

With the water finally boiling, you turn back to chopping the kebroot. The vegetable is a bit tricky to handle, its tough outer skin resisting the knife's edge. You steady your hand, apply more pressure, and try again.

You’re grateful Kix seems to be distracted by your books, allowing you to focus. If he saw you struggling, he’d probably try to offer help, and you want to do this on your own.

He was right earlier, when he said you didn't need to do all this for him.

You don't.

But you want to.

He's a good man, a hard worker, and you want to show him your appreciation. He deserves someone to take care of him for once.

When you think about it, the whole thing seems silly. You're grown adults, not hormonal teenagers. You can't believe you're making such a big deal out of something so simple.

But it is a big deal, and not just because he's the first man you've found attractive in a long time. It's the fact that you've been dancing around this for months, if not longer, and now you finally have an opportunity to explore the potential between you.

You’ve been trying your best not to picture him here, but with him in the apartment, it was difficult not to imagine. You worked together. You were friends. It was easy for you to forget that, and even easier to let your imagination run wild.

You can see him in the kitchen, helping you chop vegetables, or washing dishes at the sink. You can see him on the couch, his arm draped over the back, his legs spread wide, his head tilted back in a laugh. You can see him in bed, and that's where your mind wanders to the most.

You imagine how it might feel to kiss him, to touch him, to have him touch you. You wonder if he'll be gentle or if he'll be rough. You don't have a preference. You don't care as long as it's him. You want him to hold you. You want to feel him pressed against you, his chest against yours, his mouth against your neck, his hands running up your sides, slipping underneath your shirt—

You hiss out a curse as the knife slips, nicking the fleshy part of your finger. Blood wells up, a stark contrast against the green of the ruica.

"You okay?" Kix asks.

"I'm fine," you answer quickly.

You reach blindly for the towel, wrapping the cloth around the cut, trying to apply pressure. The cut isn’t deep, but it stings like hell.

"What happened?" he asks, appearing at your side.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Let me see," he says, and grabs the wrist of the hand holding the towel.

"It's not bad," you say and are about to pull away, but he doesn’t let go. He guides you to the sink and holds your hand under the tepid water. His eyes flicker from the wound to your face and back again, brows furrowed in a way you know means he’s gone into medic mode.

“Kix, I’m fine,” you huff. You try to withdraw your wrist, but he holds fast.

"Stop moving. You're bleeding all over the counter."

“Sorry,” you say. You can feel your cheeks burning. You should have been more careful.

His hands are warm. The pressure feels good. You can't remember the last time someone touched you like this. You want to pull away, to spare yourself the embarrassment of being this close to him, but he doesn't seem to mind. If anything, he seems determined.

“Where’s your med kit?” he asks, eyes still fixed on your hand.

You tell him where to find it, and he firmly instructs you to keep your hand under the water before he breaks into a jog toward the bathroom.

“Sit,” Kix commands when he returns, his tone no-nonsense.

You can't help but laugh.

He shoots you a glare as he opens the kit and begins removing the supplies. "I'm serious, doc. Sit."

He's so cute when he's bossy.

"Alright," you relent, pulling out a chair and sitting down. He grabs the chair across from you and drags it closer, positioning himself directly across from you.

"Gimme your hand," he orders, and you do as you're told, holding it out for him. He gently peels the towel back and sets it aside. You don't dare look. You're too embarrassed.

“Seriously, you don’t have to,” you assure him, but he just shakes his head and dabs the blood away with a clean corner of the towel.

“Should’ve known you’d be a Code 5,” he says your code word for a difficult patient with a roll of his eyes. He's only half joking.

“It’s a cut, not a stab wound,” you reply indignantly.

Kix shakes his head and reaches for the alcohol wipe. He opens it with his teeth and begins cleaning the area around the wound.

"I know that," he says, his voice softer. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt.”

He looks away to discard the wipe, and when he meets your gaze again, his eyes are filled with warmth and something else.

You don’t know how to respond.

It's a look that speaks volumes.

His touch is gentle, his fingers brushing against your palm. It's not necessary, but he does it anyway.

“Just let me take care of you,” Kix says quietly, his gaze locked on yours. “Please. For my sake.”

“Alright.” You nod, biting your lip once he turns away to grab a bandage. The intensity in his gaze surprises you. It’s different than the look he wears when you’re in the midst of surgery, different from the easy smile he wears when you’re with the men. This is something new, something unexpected.

It feels personal.

He tears the backing off the bandage and presses it gently over the cut. You try to focus on his hands instead of his face. His fingers are rough and calloused, and you how they'd feel against your bare skin.

The thought makes your stomach flutter.

It's not a foreign feeling. You've thought about this before, more times than you care to admit, but this is the first time you've been so close. This is the first time you let him.

When he finishes, he presses a kiss to your bandaged finger. The action is quick, almost thoughtless, and it catches you off guard. Kix freezes. His lips linger for a moment too long, and his cheeks flush pink.

He pulls back. "Sorry," he mumbles, not meeting your eyes.

"It's okay," you say, smiling shyly.

You're touched by the gesture. It's sweet and considerate, and exactly the sort of thing he'd do. His cheeks are flushed. You can't tell if he's embarrassed or if it's the proximity.

Your hand folds back into your lap. You can still feel the warmth of his lips on your skin. You don't know why the kiss affects you so much. It's not the first time you've been kissed, and it certainly won't be the last, but something about his touch makes your pulse quicken.

"You're sweet," you say, trying to lighten the mood.

He grins, shaking his head. "Don't let that get around."

"My lips are sealed."

He glances down at your mouth, his grin fading. You feel a thrill rush through you, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. Your heart starts to beat faster.

"Good," he whispers, his voice low and husky.

You don't move.

You don't want to break the spell.

Kix's eyes search yours, looking for some sign of reciprocation. He's giving you a chance to tell him no, to push him away.

Instead, your hand comes up to cup his cheek. Your thumb brushes across his bottom lip. You feel the breath leave his lungs, feel him lean into your touch. His eyes are hooded, pupils blown wide.

"Kix?"

"Yeah?" he whispers.

"You should kiss me," you breathe.

Kix rises to his feet, leaning down so that his face is only inches from yours. You take in his features, his warm eyes, the way they're trained on your lips, the way he's watching your every move as if waiting for you to change your mind.

His thumb caresses your cheek, and he waits a breath more before leaning in to press his lips to yours.

You sigh into his touch, bringing your other hand up to grab the back of his head. The kiss is soft, unhurried, a slow slide of lips.

Your tongue slides across his bottom lip, and he groans, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. His hands roam over your shoulders, down your back, over your hips, his fingertips brushing the exposed skin above your waistband.

You part, and you let your forehead rest against his, both of you catching your breath. Eventually, you pull back, swallowing nervously.

"I'm sorry," you say. "I don't know why I did that."

"I do," he replies.

You look up in surprise and find him watching you. His eyes are bright, and he's smiling, a real smile, not the forced one he sometimes uses around others.

"I've wanted to do that since the day we met," he admits, his cheeks reddening slightly. "And I'm not sorry it happened."

"Really?" you ask, trying not to sound too eager.

He nods, the hand on your cheek moving to play with the ends of your hair. "You're beautiful. And smart. And you take no shit, especially from me. What’s not to like?"

You laugh and lean in to kiss him again. He returns the kiss eagerly, his hand resting on your lower back to pull you closer.

"I wasn't going to say anything," he continues between kisses. "I didn't think you would want this."

"Well, I do." You grin. "Very much."

He groans and leans in to capture your lips again, but you stop him with a finger to his lips. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue.

"The food's burning."

Kix's eyes go wide, and he rounds the counter in a flash, quickly grabbing the pot off the burner and setting it aside.

"Shit," he curses, and you can't help but laugh at the panicked expression on his face.

"Relax. I'm kidding," you say, and you follow him to wrap your arms around waist. He relaxes into your touch, his hands coming up to rest on your hips.

“Can it be reheated?” he asks, his expression hopeful.

You quirk an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

His hands slide up to cup either side of your face and pull you into another kiss, one you can feel all the way down to your toes. He presses you up against the counter, his body flush against yours.

You whine into his mouth at the feeling of his tongue against yours, your fingers gripping his hair to ground yourself. He tastes like beer and something else, something dark and earthy.

It's delicious, and you can't get enough.

His lips leave yours to trail across your cheek to your neck, peppering kisses along your jaw, his teeth scraping along your pulse.

"We should probably wait until after dinner to do this," you breathe, tilting your head to give him better access.

"I can't," he replies, his voice rough, his hands roaming across your body.

"Me either," you agree, and let him lift you onto the counter. Your legs wrap around his hips instinctively, your hands cupping his face as you bring him in for another kiss.

His hands are everywhere, his touch electric, and you want him to touch you everywhere, his hands and his lips, his mouth and his tongue.

Your hands slide underneath his shirt, pushing the material up until he has to withdraw to pull it off over his head. You take in the expanse of his bare torso, the way the muscles ripple under your touch, and your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your chest.

"You're gorgeous," you say, your hands coming to rest on his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

"You are," he says. "And I've wanted this for so long."

He reaches behind you to remove your shirt, leaving you in your bra and pants. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and you want him to touch you, to make you feel good, to ease the ache that's been building inside you since the first time he smiled at you.

He dips his head to kiss you again, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair. Your mouth opens to his, and he takes advantage, deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue against yours. He nips at your bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth, and you moan, pulling him closer.

His lips travel across your jaw, down your neck, along your collarbone. His hands find the clasp of your bra and make quick work of the latch, leaving you bare. You shiver, the cool air hitting your skin, goosebumps breaking out over your skin.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispers, and he leans down to take one nipple into his mouth.

"Oh," you gasp, arching your back into him.

He sucks the sensitive bud between his lips, swirling his tongue around the peak, teasing you. He takes the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging and twisting, sending sparks of pleasure through you.

Your head falls back, and you moan his name, your fingers holding tight to his neck, your thighs squeezing his hips.

You can feel the heat of him against you, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your center, and you grind down against him, desperate for friction.

His mouth leaves your breast, and he kisses you, his tongue tangling with yours, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. You drag him closer, your hands running over his back, exploring every inch of his warm, firm skin.

His lips trail across your cheek, and you gasp as he presses open-mouthed kisses down your neck. He pauses to suck a bruise into the sensitive skin where your neck meets your shoulder, his hands massaging your waist.

"What do you want, mesh’la?" he murmurs, his mouth trailing along your collarbone.

"You," you reply, your voice breaking into a moan when he bites down gently on your shoulder, and you can't help but buck your hips.

You can feel him grin against your skin. "You have me."

"Bed," you manage, your hands gripping at his shoulders. "Now."

Kix chuckles, his hands sliding down to cup your ass. He pulls you flush against him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he lifts you off the counter. Your legs tighten around his waist and you bury your face in his neck to muffle your gasp as he walks you down the short hallway toward your bedroom.

Kix kisses you deeply as he lays you on the bed, hovering above you for a moment before he ducks down to press a kiss to your stomach.

His lips trail lower, dipping just above the waistband of your pants. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his mouth on you, the scratch of his stubble against the sensitive skin there. The idea of what he’ll feel like between your thighs has you nodding before he’s even asked the question, his hands hovering on your waist.

Kix’s fingers hook into the waistband, slowly sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. You help him, lifting your hips so he can pull them off. Your panties stick to the slick dampening your center, and Kix lets out a barely concealed moan at the darkened patch there before tearing them away.

You expect him to discard them over your shoulder with your pants, but he shocks you by giving you a bashful smile and tucking them into his back pocket.

"Really?" you ask, trying to stifle your amusement.

"What?" He gives you a look that's almost innocent, if not for the fact that he's hovering above you, half-naked and fully aroused.

“Nothing. I just didn't expect you to want to keep them."

"Do you mind?" he asks, his expression turning serious.

"Not at all," you say, and watch with rapt attention as his expression turns devious.

"Good. I plan to treasure these," he teases, and he presses a kiss to your bare knee. You shudder at the touch, at the implication behind his words.

"Now where were we?" he murmurs, his voice husky, his eyes dark as he lowers himself to his knees on the floor in front of you.

He grabs the back of your ankles and tugs, and you let out a squeak as you're pulled until your ass is nearly hanging off the edge. It’s a precarious position that’s immediately rectified by Kix arranging your legs so they’re thrown over each of his shoulders, his face level with your exposed center.

The feeling of his breath against your cunt is almost too much to bear, your legs wanting to close instinctually, but he quickly stops you with a firm hand on either thigh.

“Hold still, beautiful,” he commands softly, his eyes fixed on your wet, swollen folds.

“Kix—“

Whatever you meant to say evaporates as soon he darts forward, tongue flattening to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. You nearly forget your own name when he parts your lips with one hand to give him better access, zeroing in on your clit without any direction from you.

His licks start out soft, then steadily increase in pressure until you're nearly grinding on his tongue. The scratch of his stubble against you feels as good as you imagined. He eats you out like he’s starving, with a passion you knew he possessed but never dared to dream he’d apply to you in this way.

He withdraws for a moment to take a deep breath, his eyes flicking up to yours, pupils blown wide. “More?”

You nod frantically, though you aren’t sure what you're agreeing to. Anything to keep his hands and mouth on you. “Please.”

Kix dives back in, lapping up the juices leaking from you before returning back to your clit. Zaps of pleasure jolt up your spine and turn into a burning heat when you feel something nudge your entrance. His finger slips inside with ease, stroking your walls and the fire building inside of you, your eyelids fluttering shut.

He finds the spongey part deep inside you within seconds, hooking his finger upward to press firmly and drawing a gasp from you. With his target found, he adds another finger and begins to slowly curl them, pushing his hand in and out in a rhythm that has you seeing stars.

His lips close around your clit, suddenly sucking hard, and you gasp.

Your hips jolt off the bed, thighs closing involuntarily around his head, and he groans loudly. Your eyes open abruptly, worrying you've hurt him somehow.

Instead, you find his eyes closed, brow furrowed in pleasure, and the hand he’d been using to hold you open has retreated. From your vantage point, you can only see his arm moving, and you realize with a moan that he’s languidly palming his cock in time with the thrusting of his fingers.

As if he can sense you watching, Kix opens his eyes. Though his mouth doesn’t let up in its assault on your clit, you can see the smile in his eyes as he stares back. His fingers speed up as he pulls back to speak, punching the air from your lungs and sending you falling back against the bed.

“Can you take three?”

“Ye-es.” You hiccup at the feeling of a third thick finger slowly breaching you, stuffing you fuller than you've ever been able to manage on your own. The coil in your stomach tightens with each push and pull into your wet heat. Every thrust of his fingers sends you higher and higher, your entire body writhing with the force of it.

“Look at you," he groans. "So tight and wet. Taking my fingers so well, like you were made for me."

Your hands come up to fist the sheets at your sides, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter with each word, the way he moans between your legs, the way his eyes flutter closed in bliss as he fucks you with his hand. You can feel yourself approaching your peak, your walls clenching and fluttering around his fingers.

"Are you gonna come for me?"

"Yes." You gasp, your thighs starting to shake with the strain.

"Come on," he encourages, taking your clit between his lips and sucking, his tongue flicking rapidly against you. "Let go, beautiful."

Your eyes slam shut, and your orgasm slams into you with a force unlike anything you've felt before. It rips through your body, the heat coiled inside your exploding, your walls clamping down on his fingers as you writhe. You feel yourself nearly come out of your body, tingling pleasure coursing through you in waves.

Just as you're beginning to wonder if it’ll ever stop, it begins to fade, leaving you panting and sweating as your body collapses against the bed.

“Holy shit,” you say breathlessly. Kix chuckles from the floor, and you push yourself up on your elbows to look at him after you regain control of your limbs. He’s staring back at you, a dreamy smile on his face, the entire lower half dampened with your arousal.

“How was that?” he asks.

“I think you know,” you laugh, breathless. “I thought I was about to suffocate you there for a second.”

“Worth it, trust me.” He sighs wistfully, his eyes a little unfocused. “I don't think I've ever seen anything so hot in my life."

"You're such a charmer," you tease, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair.

"Just telling the truth," he smiles, and presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

Kix helps you lower your trembling legs from his shoulders before glancing down at the hand that was just inside you. He lifts it up to his mouth, sucking his fingers and tasting your release with a thoughtful hum before he moves to stand.

“Just as I thought.”

“What?”

“I knew you’d taste incredible.”

He kisses you, tongue pushing its way inside your mouth to tangle with your own. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue, chasing after him when he pulls away to push his pants off completely.

You want to keep kissing him, keep feeling his mouth against yours, but you're distracted by the sight of his cock springing free from his small black briefs as he slides them down his strong thighs.

Your mouth drops open in disbelief.

“You’re kidding.”

Kix’s fingers, slick with his spit and the remnants of your release, circle the head of his cock. It’s half-hard from his concentrated efforts on your cunt, but it quickly springs to life under his attention. Even not fully erect, it’s by far the most impressive cock you've ever seen. Thick, a sizable length, and now curving up toward his stomach, you can’t look away.

Saliva begins to pool on your tongue at the thought of having him in your mouth, but before you can lean forward to act on your desires, he’s pushing you back on the bed.

“If I knew all you clones were packing —“

He cuts you off with a bruising kiss.

“Careful, mesh’la.” The Mando’a comes out in a growl as he crowds you against the bed, slotting himself between your legs. His hand slides up your thigh to your breast, pinching a nipple. “I’m not big on sharing.”

You let out a breathless giggle as his mouth descends to follow the path his hand has taken, sucking your other nipple into his mouth. The feeling of his mouth and teeth on your chest makes you moan, your hips bucking against his.

"Kix, please."

He kisses back up your chest and throat to press his forehead against yours. You can feel the way his fingers tremble against you as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance, and your hand comes up to cup his cheek.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes," he admits, eyes closing as he takes a deep breath.

"We don't have to do this," you assure him.

His eyes shoot open. "I want this more than anything."

"Okay," you smile.

He lets out a sigh, his body relaxing above you. "Sorry, it's just... I've wanted this for a long time, and I just don't want to mess it up."

"You won't." Your arms come around to wrap around his neck. "But I'll tell you if I'm not liking something."

He nods, ducking down to kiss you deeply. Your legs come up to wrap around his waist, and he groans into your mouth as the head of his cock rubs against your clit.

"Please," you whine as he begins to rock his hips. His cock glides easily through your slick folds, and his lips drop back to your neck. "Inside me, Kix."

"Maker, you're wet." His cock slips back down to your entrance, and you bite your lip as the head begins to breach you.

"That's what happens when you make a girl cum," you quips, moaning as he slowly inches inside of you. You feel every inch of him, the stretch more than you're used to but still deliciously perfect. "Oh, fuck!"

He stops, pulling back to look at you with concern. "Are you okay? Am I hurting you?"

"No! No, it's just... " you laugh breathlessly, your hand coming up to caress his cheek. "You're huge. Fuck, Kix."

He smirks, leaning down to kiss you as he continues to push inside of you. The stretch is unlike anything you've ever felt, and it's making your head spin. He feels amazing, thick and hot and throbbing inside of you.

"Fuck, you feel good," he grunts. "I wish you could see how good you look taking my cock."

Your cunt clenches around him at his words, and he groans. He buries his face in your neck, pressing kisses along your jaw, his breath coming out in hot puffs against your skin.

When he bottoms out, you both let out a shaky breath.

"Stars," you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Kix, you feel amazing."

"So do you," he grits out. "You take my cock so well, mesh'la. Like you were made for me."

You moan at his words, his hips pulling back to thrust shallowly into you. You can't help the whine that escapes you, your legs tightening around his waist to pull him closer. The slow drag of his cock against your walls is almost too much, pleasure bordering on the line between pain.

"Faster," you pants, your nails scratching down his back. "Harder, Kix. I need it."

"Anything you want," he replies, his hips picking up speed.

He kisses you, tongue plunging into your mouth as he begins to snap his hips against yours. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of him filling you, the slick sounds of your cunt and his thrusts echoing throughout the room.

Kix fucks you like it's his last chance, hard and fast and rough, like he's afraid you’ll disappear at any moment, and you can barely do anything but hold on.

He changes the angle of his hips slightly, and your mouth drops open as a strangled cry is torn from your lips. His cock rubs against your sweet spot with each stroke, and his head drops to your chest as his hips slam against yours.

"Stars, mesh’la, you feel incredible," he grunts, pressing his face into your neck. His teeth sink into the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder, and you let out a strangled gasp.

"Oh, fuck. Don't stop, Kix," you pants, your voice breaking into a sob, your hand tangling in his hair to tug on it. His hips stutter for a moment before he picks up the pace, your entire body jolting with the force of each thrust. He's fucking you so hard, his cock driving into you with enough force that your entire body rocks with the force of it. "Kix, oh kriff."

He withdraws from your neck, his mouth returning to yours. He swallows your moans, hips pumping into your faster as you squeeze around him. The feeling of him stretching you is intoxicating, and you never want it to end. You wonder if it would be too much to ask him to stay inside your forever, his thick cock plugging you up so nothing could slip out. You feel him everywhere, all around you and inside you. It's overwhelming in the best possible way.

"Kix," you whimper, breaking the kiss to bury your face in his neck. Your teeth scrape along his skin, and you revel in the groan that escapes him. His hands tighten on your hips, thumbs pressing against the bones there.

"Mesh’la," he gasps. "Kriff, I'm getting close."

"Me, too."

You can feel the fire burning low in your stomach, your walls fluttering around him. You dig your heels into his ass, encouraging him to go even deeper, and you see stars when he hits the spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

"Right there, Kix!"

He changes angles so he's hitting your g-spot on every thrust, his mouth dropping back to your neck. You can feel the sweat beading on his skin, the way his muscles flex under your hands with every movement. You scratch down his back, hips jerking to meet his, and you know he must be close. His thrusts are becoming more erratic, his breathing heavier.

"Kix, I'm gonna--" you gasp, your hand cupping the back of his neck.

He buries his face in your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on every inch of skin in his reach. The hand on your hip slides between you, and you nearly scream when he begins to circle your clit with his thumb.

"Cum for me, beautiful," he mutters, biting your earlobe.

Your orgasm comes out of nowhere, your body seizing up as you cums. White-hot pleasure courses through you, your thighs shaking around him. You can vaguely hear him whispering praise in your ear, but you can't focus on anything except the feeling of his cock still pounding into your as you ride out your high.

"So good, mesh'la. I love the way your pussy squeezes my cock. You look so pretty when you cum, you know that?” he babbles with a low groan, hips beginning to stutter. “Fuck, I'm not gonna last."

You manage to regain your bearings after a moment, your body feeling like jelly. Your limbs feel like they weigh a ton, but you're determined. You need to see him lose control, need to see him fall apart because of you. You know he's close, can feel his thrusts becoming more and more uneven.

"Cum for me, Kix," you order. You can't help the smug smirk that overtakes your features as he groans loudly. "I want to see you."

"Mesh'la," he chokes out, hips losing their rhythm as he fucks you.

"Let go, baby." You lean up to nip his jaw, the hand on the back of his neck tangling in his hair. He looks so beautiful above you, eyes screwed shut, a flush coloring his cheeks. His skin is shining with sweat, muscles flexing as he pushes himself further.

"Look at me."

His eyes flutter open, and you nearly cum again. The sight of him, eyes half-lidded and mouth hanging open, is almost enough to tip you over the edge.

"Fuck," he gasps, hips pistoning into your erratically.

"Cum for me," you repeat.

The grip on your hips is almost bruising as he buries himself inside you. His hips jerk once, twice, and then he's gone, moaning loudly as he cums. You can feel the pulsing of his cock inside you, the warm wetness flooding your cunt, and you can't help the whine that escapes you.

"Kriff," he grunts, head dropping down to rest against yours. You stay like that for a moment, both panting, the only sounds in the room the faint hum of the rain outside and your heavy breathing.

You feel boneless, completely and utterly spent. If you were to die right now, you'd die happy. Kix props himself up on his forearms, brushing your sweaty hair from your face with a grin. He presses a soft kiss to your lips, and you smile tiredly.

"Hey," you whisper.

"Hey," he replies. He ducks down to kiss you again, his smile widening. Has he always had dimples? How did you not notice those before? "How are you feeling?"

"Messy,” you laugh. You glance down at the place where your bodies are joined, feeling him twitch inside you.

"Let me take care of that," he says, gently sliding out of you. The sound he makes when he leaves your body is positively sinful, and your thighs clench at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you.

Kix brushes another kiss against your temple before standing from the bed. You watch with half-lidded eyes as he disappears into the refresher, returning a moment later with a damp washcloth. He cleans you up gently, tossing the cloth in the direction of the refresher once he's finished.

"Come here," you murmur, reaching out for him.

He climbs into bed beside you, and you roll onto your side to press yourself against his chest, throwing your leg over his. His arms come around you immediately, holding you close as he peppers kisses on your hair. You snuggle closer, sighing happily as the warmth radiating from him cocoons around you. His hands run over every inch of available skin as if he's committing it to memory.

"I can't believe we waited so long to do that," you mumbled against his chest.

Kix laughs, the vibrations running through his chest and into yours. You're suddenly aware of how bare you both are, how you're pressed together from shoulder to toe. It should be unnerving, but it isn't. You feel safe.

"Me either. We should've been doing that this whole time."

You giggle, your hand running across his side to rest on his ribs. You can feel the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your palm. "Maybe next time you can fuck me on a med table."

He groans, the hand on your waist moving down to squeeze your ass. "That violates about ten different health codes."

"Fine. The supply closet, then."

"Mesh’la —" The words are a choked moan, and you can’t help but laugh.

"You're cute when you're flustered."

"You're a menace."

You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw, smirking. "But you like it.”

"You're right," he chuckles, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. "I do."

You hum happily, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips move slowly against yours before a rumbling sensation under your hand makes them shoot open.

"Was that your stomach?"

Kix blushes and looks away. "Maybe."

You roll your eyes fondly, pushing away from his chest. He whines, trying to pull your back against him.

“You’re hungry,” you laugh.

"I am not," he protests weakly.

You stand from the bed, grinning when his eyes immediately drop to your body. His gaze is so heated that you can't help but flush, and it only burns brighter when you bend over to pick up your pants, and he lets out a low groan.

"Mesh'la, if you keep doing that, I'll never let you leave this bed," he growls.

You bite your lip, your eyes flickering down to the sheet barely covering his growing erection. The sight is mouthwatering, and your mind fills with a thousand different ideas about what you'd like to do with him. But your stomach growls again, and you sigh, walking toward the refresher.

"Where are you going?" he pouts, propping himself up on his elbows.

"You're not the only one who's hungry." You stop at the door, giving him a mischievous smile. "And if you're a good boy, I'll make it worth the wait."

Kix is quiet for a moment before he speaks. "I can wait."

"Good boy."

His responding groan has you grinning from ear to ear as you disappear behind the door, your laughter echoing off the walls.

#clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #kix x reader #the clone wars #clone x reader #clone smut #roy writes #kix #does pizza exist in the star wars universe? too late now

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writtenfangirl · 1 year

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Dancing

A short one this time! I just wanted to write a really fluffy piece without drama although, yes there is a very small conflict if you squint hard enough. I wanted to write another fic that made me feel good just cause life's been extra hard lately.

Although I have a ton of ideas for this one so a sequel if people really enjoy this. I briefly wondered making Y/N be Lady Whistledown and pairing her up with my favorite Bridgerton brother to see what would happen.

TW: People being mean. Gossiping mamas. Cressida Cowper mention.

The ball, as most balls tended to be as the night waned, had grown stale and boring. The dancing had ceased despite the wonderful string quartet that played their music and people had broken off to their own parties. As the guests become accustomed to the taste of alcohol, words began to flow with reckless abandon.

“Did you hear? Viscount Dotsfield has a bastard with a scullery maid!”

“The Earl of Blackfield is said to engage in… relationships with Sir Lockling.”

“There are rumors going around that one of the Colton daughters has a French paramour whose name is Ravilli. An ambassador of sorts…”

Gossip is what fueled the ton, the very lifeblood that had men and women of varying ages coming to these balls in the first place. No one in the ton wanted to be caught unaware and one could never be too careful of the rumors that could be fabricated about you. According to Y/N’s mama, the only people who didn’t come to balls and to the gatherings hosted by members of the ton were those of them whose reputations were in ruins. You were either gossiping or you were the one being gossiped about.

So she came and endured even if she was bored out of her mind.

It wasn’t anything she wasn’t use to anyway. She was a woman and women were seen and not heard. Not only that, but she was a wallflower. Wallflowers were hardly seen at all.

“Lady Y/L/N.”

She knew that familiar voice, smooth and deep yet somehow still bright. If sunsets could speak, Y/N imagined they would have his voice.

“Mister Bridgerton,” Y/N said as she spun around, hiding her smile behind her bejeweled fan. “I half expected you to have taken your leave by now.”

“Under usual circumstances, I might have. But I have yet to dance with the most beautiful girl in the room.” Benedict said with a crooked smile. “And my mother has always told me that dancing is one of men’s greatest assets to encourage affection.”

“There’s hardly anyone dancing,” Y/N said bashfully.

“All the better reason to do so.”

Y/N wasn’t naive. She knew Benedict was only speaking to her because his mother asked him too. She’d always rather liked Lady Bridgerton and she had a penchant for forcing her sons to dance with the wallflowers. At every ball Y/N attends, her dance card, though usually empty, always had three names: Anthony Bridgerton. Benedict Bridgerton. Colin Bridgerton.

And there was no man who made he heart beat faster than Benedict Bridgerton himself. Because it was Benedict who offered to fill up all of the other spaces in her dance cards even though he didn’t have to.

All the Bridgerton brothers were kind to her but Benedict was more than that. Anthony and Colin were polite but Benedict laughed with her and conversation flowed between them like water from a fountain. And though she knew Benedict was unlikely to return her feelings, she occasionally let her delusions run wild. She often spent her days imagining what their future would look like. Would their children have his eyes or hers? Their hair would probably be different too. And their noses—

“Y/N?”

Blast! What a bloody idiot! She shouldn’t have let her mind wander like that! And now Benedict was looking at her expectantly with those luminous blue eyes and she couldn’t focus her mind to remember what it is he’d asked of her.

“Yes?” She asked, fighting to stop herself from sounding so breathy.

“Excellent,” Benedict grinned with an outstretched hand.

The dance. She’d forgotten about the dance!

She briefly wondered if she could find a way out of it. Getting on that dance floor would shift everyone’s focus on to them and she already knew what people would say.

“The Bridgerton charity case.”

“Of all of the young ladies, he chose her?”

“He deserves better.”

She glanced around nervously. Everyone else was too engrossed in their own conversations to pay them any heed but those conversations would instantly stop the moment she and Benedict stepped on the dance floor alone.

And she knew that if she were to reject Benedict’s advances, her mother would kill her. Though Anthony was but a Viscount, his fortune was considerable large. His father before him had managed their estate well and Anthony was known to make cunning investments that grew their already large fortune, a fortune that would also provide cushy lives for the rest of his brothers. Perhaps not the large estate of a Duke but certainly nothing to scoff at. And Y/N didn’t doubt for one second that the rest of the Bridgerton brothers weren’t as smart as Anthony was when it came to their finances.

It’s why Y/N had constantly heard her mother’s say, “you will marry a Duke or a Bridgerton. Anything less is unacceptable.”

Luckily for Y/N, her mother wasn’t around to see her reject Benedict.

Still, with the way Benedict looked at her, it was hard to say no.

“Just one dance,” Y/N ceded with a sigh, slipping her gloved hand onto his.

His smile widened considerably. “You mustn’t be nervous.”

“Easy for you to say,” Y/N huffed. “You look perfect everywhere you go.”

“Oh?”

Damn. Damn damn damn. Damn the world. Damn herself. And damn Benedict Bridgerton.

“You think I look perfect?” He asked, cocking a brow in question.

“U-uh, I m-mean, that is to say, I don’t—“

“You truly must calm your nerves, my lady,” Benedict said with a chuckle as he pulled her to her feet and led her to the dance floor. “I am only teasing.”

Y/N could hear the stream of gossip stop as members of the ton watched them. There was a pregnant pause and then the chatter began once again. She couldn’t hear the full conversations but she heard enough.

“…fat…”

“…ugly…undeserving…”

“…he is too kind…”

It made Y/N want to curl up into a ball so that the earth may open up and swallow her whole.

“Pay them no heed,” Benedict muttered as he pulled her close, his hand resting on the small of her back as his other hand found hers. “Focus only on us. And tonight, you look beautiful.”

“Only tonight?” Y/N joked in a bid to ease the coil of tension tightening around her core.

“Every night.” Benedict’s tone was too serious to be called teasing.

Soon the new music started, washing away the ton’s horrible words. She could still feel their watchful eyes on her skin, felt the way they judged her.

“Focus on me,” Benedict muttered before he began their dance by swaying them back and fort.

She let the music fill her, weaving through the muscles in her body. Their dance was a complicated one and though she wasn’t an accomplished dancer by any sense of the word, with Benedict leading it was hard to fail.

In and out, push and pull, with complicated lifts and turns yet somehow always finding their way back to each other. It was as if their bodies were magnetized, attracted only to the other. As the music swelled, she forgot all about the gossiping ton and their prying eyes. Instead she only felt Benedict’s body heat, the hard chords of muscles hidden beneath his jacket, his hands steady around her waist.

His gaze on her felt soft, like staring at the afterglow of of dusk. She was never much of a drinker but Benedict always had the ability to make her feel drunk, as though each of her inhibitions left her the moment his luminous blue eyes landed on her.

When the last notes of the song echoed between them and Y/N and Benedict detached from each other to curtsy and bow at one another, the entire ballroom erupted into applause.

A soft gasp left Y/N’s lips. She’d completely forgotten about the ton watching them with Benedict commanding all of her attention.

She raised her head, meeting Benedict’s eyes once more.

“You were marvelous,” Benedict muttered with a grin as he took her hand and placed a chaste kiss against it before leading her out of dance floor. The ton’s eyes had grown less hostile and more appreciative on and, for the first time in a long time, Y/N felt exhilarated.

“I would like to call on you tomorrow, Ms. Y/L/N.” Benedict said, letting his voice be carried throughout the ballroom. His words brought on another wave of whispers. “If you would let me?”

Y/N was absolutely sure she would be the center of gossip tomorrow. Perhaps until the end of the season if Benedict’s intentions are what she thought them to be.

To call on her would mean Benedict would like to get to know her better, to suss out if she would make a good wife or not. And with him a Bridgerton and her a lowly Y/L/N, they would make waves with the ton. She could practically feel Cressida Cowper glaring daggers at her back.

But she didn’t care about that right now. She was still riding the high of their beautiful dance. She was no great beauty, that much was true. But with Benedict, she felt beautiful. And his opinion mattered to her more than the Queen’s and the whole ton’s combined.

“Of course you may call on me, Mr. Bridgerton,” she said graciously, ignoring her fast beating heart. “I’ll have the cook prepare that raspberry marmalade you enjoy so much.”

Benedict grinned. “I am much obliged. I shall see you tomorrow. I hope you have a good evening.” He took her hand again, placing another gentle kiss on her knuckles before he straightened and walked away.

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charlie-lec-stories · 9 months

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A lovely mess // CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character

Summary: Four times Charles overreacted to becoming a father and one he actually failed to react. Or Charles being a mess through the best and most scary adventure of his life.

Warnings: None, this is pure wholesomeness.

Author’s Note: This one was inspired by some stories my own dad and uncle told me about the times they had their first children. Yes, some of those stories are based on things my father did when him and my mom were expecting me hahahaha. Rate: PG

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Every man reacts differently to pregnancy, but the most common response is just simply becoming a mess of a human being. And because of that, Charles, for once in his life, could be considerer an average man. He had been exceptional his whole life: excellent student at school, talented in arts, languages and sports, remarkable people skills and loved by everyone. People assumed that he was going to be an exceptional father too, and he knew he was committed to the role since day one, but none of that made the experience less scary. The monegasque had always want kids, he had always pictured himself growing old with a woman he loved and raising a bunch of little humans. When he knocked up his girlfriend he was definitely not planning on becoming a father so soon in his life, but he was happy nonetheless. His history with his girlfriend was kind of complicated too, her family didn't like him much, or more precisely the fact that Charles' job made her travel around the globe, away from her family all the time. He knew that he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone in his life, he knew that every time he pictured himself in the future, that future was shared with her, but it would be a lie if he'd say that the pregnancy didn't complicate things. His in-laws weren't too happy when they found out and Charles' mother was kind of worried about the whole situation. But Charles and his girl loved that little "accident" more than life itself and they actually never cared too much about anyone else's opinions. He convinced his girlfriend to move in with him and she also agreed on keep traveling with him until she ultimately had to stay home for the baby's safety.

"Is six weeks really that bad, Amour? I mean, maybe you're jet lagged or something". Charles nervously wondered from sitting at the bottom of the bed, his girl anxiously pacing around the room.

"That's not how periods work, Charlie". She was trying to stay calm and not bark at him, but that was a difficult task.

"Then let's buy a test and find out". He got up and started walking to the door when she grabbed his arm.

"Wait! You can't just go to a pharmacy and buy a test!". She looked at him like he was insane.

"Why not?". If there was someone humble enough to always forget he's rich and famous, that was Charles.

"Because you're Charles fucking Leclerc, that's why!". She let go of his arm and ran her hand down her face, exasperated. "The press is going to have a field day if you do that".

"Shit, you're right". He sighed and his shoulders sunk. He could see her shaking, scared and stressed and all he wanted to do was give her answers so she could get some peace of mind. "I'm sorry, Amour, I just don't know what to do".

"Let's call Lorenzo, maybe Charlotte can buy it for us".

He watched her take care of everything: call his brother, open the door for him and Charlotte, explain the situation, decide over test brands with his sister in law, drink loads of water, all while he sat on the couch, his mind running faster than he had ever drove his Ferrari. How could she think so clearly even with how scared she was? What would he do if the test was positive? What if she didn't want to keep the baby? Why was he feeling so sad with the mere idea of the test turning up negative? Was he really ready to be a father? There were so many questions and so little answers. He could hear Charlotte walk out the door and his girlfriend go their room, he clearly felt his older brother sit by his side on the couch, but he just couldn't move. Lorenzo said something Charles never caught, too drown inside his own head.

"I really want this baby, Enzo". Was all he let out and his brother just squeezed his shoulder.

Charlotte came back pretty fast, a paper bag with at least five different tests for his girl to do. The older woman explained the younger which ones were more effective so they could compare the results later. The possible future mother lock herself into the bathroom while the other three waited outside. Charles felt like he waited for an eternity before she came out with the five little white sticks. She placed them over a napkin on the coffee table and Lorenzo set the timer. Now, they had to wait again. She was sitting on the same couch he was before, looking at everything but the tests in front of her, so he sat down and took her hand in his, hoping for the contact to be enough to ease her thoughts. He wasn't exactly the epitome of calmness and the sweat that covered his hand made it hard to grip at. She looked at him and smiled, she knew that he was going to be there for them, no matter what, but she was still scared of what he would think, she still needed to know if he really wanted this. Still, she refrained from asking and simply rested her head on his shoulder, searching for comfort on his scent. She had her eyes closed when she suddenly flew to the other side of the couch while Charles' loud yelp filled her ears.

"What the fuck was that?". She looked around, trying to find what could have startled him so much to trow her like that, but all she could see was Charles clumsily trying to grab one of the tests while his feet barely kept him up. She had never seen him so uncoordinated in the two years they had been together. His fingers had a mind of their own and his legs were trembling.

"Two lines, this one has two lines". Charles, who had been quiet and petrified for the past hour, was mumbling like a madman as he showed his brother one of the tests. In the background, the alarm set by Lorenzo started ringing and they all looked down at the coffee table, searching for the lines of truth. Charles grabbed the the tests smiling wide as he showed them to the others. "THEY ALL HAVE TWO LINES". He was hyperventilating, his whole body shaking and Lorenzo couldn't help but let out his loudest laugh as he watched his younger brother loose the little bits of sanity he had. "CAN YOU SEE IT, BABY?!". He shoved the sticks into his girlfriend's face. "It's a baby! We made a baby! Putain de merde! I'm going to be a Papa!".

"Yes, Charlie! I see it!". She said sharing his enthusiasm. But then she saw him go pale really fast. He walked backwards a few steps and Lorenzo caught him from behind before he could fall butt first on the ground.

"Okay, I think you need to process this rollercoaster of emotions while sitting on the couch, Cha". The older Leclerc helped his bother to sit down next to the now confirmed future mama. There, Charles took her hand and smiled, a high-like expression covering his eyes. He may be scared, but he had never been happier.

If Charles' reaction to the pregnancy was that chaotic, it was a sure thing that the following nine months would be as well. Before the first trimester was up, he had already brought another house to move to, where the baby could have their own room and a playroom. He brought every piece of Ferrari merchandizing he could find on the internet, he didn't even care if it was original or not. Was it pretty? Yes. Was it Ferrari? Yes. Then he was buying it. His girlfriend even went to the extent of taking away his cards and threatened with getting rid of wifi to make him stop. He didn't, took her extension in the middle of the night and kept binge-shopping for his baby at 4 am. He brought furniture for the bedroom and the playroom, and then he found his biggest rival till the day. A rival he wanted to beat more than Max Verstappen: a crib. She wasn't even showing and he was already putting a crib together, or let's rephrase it, fighting with the crib and losing pathetically.

"Cela n'a aucun sens". (This makes no sense). He complained while he tried to attach what was supposed to be 'Part B' to 'Part 3.1'. Why there was a part 3.1, he didn't know and was too stress out to try and figure it out. He growled, he literally growled when the whole crib came crushing down in front of him. "Je déteste cette merde". (I hate this shit).

"Charlie? What's wrong? I heard a loud noise". He looked at the mother of his child and all he could feel was embarrassment. "Are you alright?".

"Yes. I'm fine". He answered from the floor, looking at his lap. He wanted to cry, but he also didn't want to upset her.

"Hey, you know you can tell me anything, right?". She sat next to him on the floor and searched for his eyes, but he kept looking away from her. "What is it, Charles?".

"I-". He tried to start talking, but he was cut off by his own sob. She quickly made him turn towards her, looking for injuries, but he seemed to be physically fine. She saw the tears running down his face and did the best she could to wipe the away. Moving to sit on his lap, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself flat against him, trying to get as close as she could. He cried on her shoulder, soaking her his hoodie and crushing her with his arms around her waist. They stayed like that for a while, until Charles stopped crying. She scratched his head to calm him down and after some time, he did. In a painfully soft whisper, he admitted his fear to her. "I'm going to be a terrible Papa".

"Don't say that. We both know that's not true". Shushing him, she pulled away and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. "Is this about the crib?".

"I've been fighting this crib for four days. Our baby is going to sleep on the floor and it's all my fault". She laughed and for a moment, she regretted it, seeing the hurt in his eyes. She calmed down and pecked his lips.

"Charlie, our baby has barely formed their ears yet, you have more than enough time to figure this out". He didn't look convinced at all.

"But what if I don't?". She smiled at him.

"I know you will. Do you want to know why?". He nodded and she ran her fingers through his hair to move it away from his face, so they could look into each others eyes and make him believe her. "Because you already are the best Papa in the world, Charles".

He won against the crib just in time to catch up with the worst part of the cravings period. They were into the fourth month of pregnancy and the little bump was proudly starting to show. Charles couldn't keep his hands away from it. He was constantly touching the bump, kissing the bump, talking to the bump, even scolding the bump whenever he saw some discomfort tinting his girlfriend's face. In the paddock he practically forced her to go everywhere with him and on interviews he answered every question while looking at her. He insisted on people staying at least ten centimeters away from her and he even took upon himself the task of preparing every meal she ate, just to make sure that it was safe and she didn't get food poisoned. He checked places' and foods' temperatures, chairs' and couches' safety, if her shoes were properly tied (at least 20 times a day), the only thing missing was him wrapping her on bobble wrapping. He safety proofed the every hotel room they stayed in so she wouldn't 'accidentally hit the bump against unknown furniture in the dark'. At some point, she had to put a stop to the madness, specially when Charles' newly-daddy paranoia messed with her cravings.

"Amour, what are you eating?". He asked when he caught her hiding with Lando and Max behind the Red Bull garage, a massive greasy half eaten hot dog on her hands. Lando was opening a mayonnaise sachet with his teeth and Max was feeding her french fries with his bare hands, all three of them sitting on the floor. It wasn't exactly the most sanitary situation, but the fuzzy feeling she felt inside her chest thanks to that hot dog made it all worth it. Charles could swear he had an aneurysm just by the sight of it all. "Where did you get that?".

"Uhm...". Her and Lando looked at Max, waiting for him to answer, since he was the one who brought it.

"Well... It's from a professional, I can assure you that, Charles". The monegasque frowned and Max swallowed, scared, just to find out his mouth was completely dry. He wasn't an easily scared guy, but something about Charles' over-protective-dad mood just terrified him.

"And where's the professional's place? Can you show me?". Max, still sitting on the floor, looked at everything but Charles.

"Oh, you see-".

"It's from the stand outside of the paddock". Lando blurted out, followed by him covering his mouth with both his hands and the three of them heard Charles growl.

"Max did you just feed my pregnant girlfriend a hot dog from a dirty street-stand? YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW IF THE PERSON WASHES THEIR HANDS-"

"They definitely don't, I mean, they don't have where to".

"Lando, you're not helping me, mate". Max advised, not moving his eyes from the fuming Charles above him. Then the pregnant girl decided to intervene.

"Charlie, babe, it's okay. I asked him to buy it for me". Charles then looked at her, his gaze softening a little, but still angry.

"Amour, you know that's not good for you". He walked to her and hooked his arms under hers to help her off the floor.

"But the baby wanted it". Max still followed Charles, afraid of what the future father could do to him for messing with his unborn baby's diet. Lando stayed very still, hoping to make himself invisible. "I was just craving this so bad! And you never let me have this type of food. The baby is fine, I promise".

"Don't do that face, it's not fair". He complained when she gave him her best puppy eyes. She didn't stop, and he finally dropped the attitude. "Okay, maybe we can make some room for a hot dog once in a while. But you have to keep eating healthy, we don't want the little Tifosi to come out malnourished".

"Yay!". She squealed and hugged him tight, the hot dog almost falling from her hand. Charles hugged her back and then directed his gaze towards the other two drivers.

"And you two". Max and Lando looked at him wide-eyed. "This better be the last time you pull off something like this. Did I make myself clear?".

"Yes, sir". Both said at the same time and got up from the floor.

"Okay, go on. And think about what you did". They nodded their heads, Max handing the girl the fries and then walking away with Lando.

"I like you daddy-voice". Charles shrugged at her comment.

"Amour, don't call it that or I won't be able to use it without laughing".

Charles' paranoia got better. He calmed down a little, but then the fear of being a bad father came back. Around the seventh month, already knowing they were having a boy, Charles found himself with insomniac. At the beginning of the pregnancy he was scared of not knowing what to do to take care of a baby's basic needs: bottle feed, change diapers, help him to sleep, and things like that. But as the date of the delivery got closer, Charles' fears shifted to the more existential type. What if he was unable to guide his son through life? What if he failed on teaching him good values and a strong sense of ethics? What if he ended up raising a spoiled kid, arrogant and narcissistic? What if he couldn't make his boy happy? What if his kid hated him? Those questions kept him up at night, turning over and over on the bed, and cold sweat covering his body. He would walk to the baby's room and look at the painting his girlfriend did on the walls, the name 'Jules' written on lilac on a clear sky, over the race track so carefully crafted. What if his son didn't want to race cars? What if he was forcing him to do so when he wasn't even born? Sitting on the rocking chair, he would look out the window, the yachts at the bay clearly visible from there. What if his son didn't like Monaco? What if his son would rather adopt his mother's nationality and culture over his? The dark sky adorned with shinny little dots would look back at him without answers.

"Charlie? Why are you up, love?". He heard his girl's sleepy voice call out to him from the doorway. He smiled at her, his eyes glossy as he fought the tears that wanted to escape.

"Just thinking, Amour. Don't worry". He gave her his best smile, but she could read his real feelings underneath it. "Go back to bed, I'll join you in a minute".

"I think we love each other enough to cut the bullshit, babe". She walked further into the room and stopped in front of him, her big belly at his face's height, and he couldn't help but reach forward and kiss it. "What is it?"

"It's... it's just a lot and it's late. Don't worry, really-"

"Charles, I'm not sleeping until I'm convinced that you're alright". He sighed, and pulled her to his lap. The weight was a little bit more than what he was used to, but he loved that, it made it impossible for him to overlook the fact that his baby was there, with them. He made her rest her back against his chest and rocked he chair, hugging her tight against him and resting his chin over her shoulder. They both looked out of the window and she patiently waited for him to tell her what was going on inside his mind.

"I'm scared. I feel this huge responsibility over Jules". She smiled, loving whenever they talked about their baby using the name they choose for him. "I just want to be a good Papa, but I'm so scared of messing up, of making the wrong choices, of using the wrong words, of leading him in the wrong direction. What if I don't raise him right? If I'm not a good role model?"

"Well, you're not alone in this, Charlie, I'm with you till the end of the line. Like Bucky and Steve. I know that we'll be alright. I just know it". She sounded so sure of herself. He wished he could be that sure about everything.

"How do you do it? How do you manage to always be so sure and composed?". She laughed and he felt the baby kick under his palm, he always kicked when she laughed.

"I've been the least composed person and you know it, Charlie! I break down crying at least five times a day. You've seen that! You're the one who comforts me every time". He laughed softly, that was true, those had been some pretty crazy seven months. A true rollercoaster of emotions. And they still had two more months to go. "I know that we'll be alright because we're already asking ourselves these questions. Because we care about Jules so much that we truly take time to think things through. We are going to be alright because we love our baby and we both know we will always do the best we can for him. We won't let the bad choices from our parents be repeated and we'll make sure to copy the best from them to give to Jules. That's why I'm so sure". She turned to look at him for a moment. "I trust you to be the dad of my baby because I know how great of a human being you are, Charles".

"I love you". He said, feeling a lot better. He kissed her tenderly, and then another kick was felt under his hand. "Thanks for being here for me, Amour".

"Always, just as you had always been for me". She nuzzled her nose against his. Another kick and they both laughed. "Let's go back to bed, Papa".

The two months passed by in a blink. Charles asked Ferrari to give him a leave of absence for the first two races of the season. He wanted to be world champion, but he would rather be there when his son was born. Ferrari let him take his time, but Jules decided to be born at eight and a half months. It seemed like he couldn't wait to meet his parents, because everything happened so fast that Charles had barely had any time to react. They were having lunch at his mother's house, and he was having the best time. His girl looked amazing, all radiant and happy, her belly covered by a cute but comfortable dress, his sisters in law both touching the belly and fighting for godmother duties. Lorenzo and Charlotte were definitely the chosen ones, but they hadn't tell anyone yet, after all both Lorenzo and Charlotte were there for them when they needed them. His mother was showing him little clothes that she had crocheted for Jules and his brothers discussing which one was going to be the 'responsible uncle' and who the 'funcle'. Arthur was definitely unable to be the responsible one, so he was already chosen to be the 'funcle'. Every conversation was cut short when the faint voice of the future mama rang through the air.

"Charlie". Her shaken voice called out, and he turned around to see what she needed. There was a wet patch under her and she was grabbing her belly, a painful expression on her face. "I think my water broke".

"The baby is coming!". Arthur shouted excitedly, but Charles' brain just stopped functioning. He saw everyone running around to grab things, Charlotte and Carla helping his girl out of the house and towards his car, Lorenzo grabbing the baby bag the carried around just in case since the beginning of the last trimester, Arthur pushing him outside and his mother speaking, but he just couldn't move. H was petrified. He felt like his blood pressure had dropped in a second and if it wasn't for Arthur behind him, he would have certainly fallen to the ground. His mother took his car keys out of his pocket and then they pushed him on the back seat, next to his girlfriend. Her hand crushing his brought him back from his outer-body state and he was able to react, turning to face her and running his other hand down her arm, doing his best to sooth her.

"It's okay, mon amour. Breath, breath with me". He instructed her and he started to exaggerate his breathing so she could copy her. She did and that calmed her down enough to count the seconds between one contraction and the next. "That's it, Amour, you're doing so good". He praised her and she smiled a little, her happy expression cut short by another waive of pain. She screamed and cried, sweat covering her forehead and running down her face, mixing with her tears. It was probably the most messy she had ever looked, but he had never seen her as beautiful as in that moment. "I love you so much". He whispered it, but by the squeeze she gave to his hand, he knew for sure she was saying it back. "We're almost there, hung on a little longer".

He almost carried her out of the car and into the hospital the second Arthur parked the car. Then, they found out that she was ready to deliver in that second. Jules didn't want them to keep him waiting, she was brought to the delivery room and Charles was given surgical gown so he could join her. Inside, the whole process was quick, in 30 minutes, Jules was crying on the doctors arms and Charles could feel his heart skip a beat. Wrapped on towel and with the small hat they had for him on, Jules was passed on to his mother, who took him instantly while she cried her eyes out. Charles, still on delay with reality, was trying to process the information. That was his baby, he was finally there, he could finally touch him. The doctor walked to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, Charles couldn't stop looking at his girl and little Jules. He heard a softly "go ahead, meet your boy", and that was enough for him to place a shaking and gentle hand on Jules' head. He ran his thumb over the soft little cheek and the tears started to fall. He felt his girl's hand wipe away his tears and heard her laugh softly. She just found funny that after overreacting about every little thing for the past eight months, Charles was barely able to react that day. He was a mess in that moment, but he was the perfect mess in her eyes. The most extraordinary mess. He finally smiled and reached down to kiss her head, then he looked at Jules.

"I am your Papa, Jules. I love you. I'm so happy to finally meet you".

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I hope you guys liked this one!

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader

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curi0us-gh0st · 11 months

Text

Unexpected Love (Ha Do-yeong & Jeon Jae-jun)

pairings: Ha Do-yeong x Fem!Reader, Jeon Jae-jun x Fem!Reader.

word count: 1.904

genre: fluffy, smut.

summary: In unusual situations, love can arise.

warnings: shy Do-yeong, drinking, kissing, grinding, blowjob, cum on face, annoying Jae-jun (start), swearing, groping, riding, shy reader running away from Jae-jun, romantic Jae-jun (?).

a/n: hey guys, I'm placing orders now... I had no internet these days, so I'm late! patience sweethearts 😭🤲🏻

request: yes, I just forgot to reply 😭

Ha Do-yeong

★ Do-yeong saw you for the first time at a business meeting, you were a partner in one of the companies that wanted to partner with his company. You looked stunning in a tight knee-length skirt, a gray blazer and a white blouse, simple but in Ha's eyes it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He was so shy with her presence that he had to gather strength to talk to her about the company, her sweet and gentle voice made the hairs on his skin stand up and his heart beat faster in his chest.

★ After several formal meetings between business partners, he asked you out, you smiled at how he seemed nervous and was denying that he wanted to take advantage of you, that he wasn't that kind of man. He said he would pick him up at home and he did, wearing one of his expensive suits, he stopped in front of his house; Do-yeong went out to open the door for you and when he saw you leaving his house in a long dress that perfectly hugged your body, his jaw dropped to the floor, struck by your beauty, if you were already beautiful at work, imagine casually. He opened the car door so nervous that his hands were sweating, him praising how you were doing, the drive to the restaurant was him trying to stop praising you with every word that came out of your mouth as you giggled softly at his cuteness.

★ Dinner was something magical, the restaurant was so elegant and luxurious, there were candles on the tables in the room, music softly playing in the background, orders were made while you talked about your personal lives and ended up talking about work. The minutes you spent together, full of laughter and compliments, all very polite and romantic, you realized that there was something about him that attracted you, you liked him and his gentlemanly way.

★ He took her to a more private area of the restaurant, where there was a deck, the moonlight shining along with some candles, comfortable armchairs, couples hugging each other because of the cold while holding a glass of wine. Do-yeong ordered two glasses, standing up next to you in one of the armchairs and saying that he loved meeting you, how brilliant you are and an excellent worker.

★ With the arrival of the wine, he felt really shy, becoming more smiling and flirtatious, he noticed that you were starting to shrink, he took off his own blaze and placed it on your shoulders to keep you warm. In a moment, your eyes met, smiles on your faces, your hearts beating in sets, warm and excited, then, you separated the distance between you, kissing his lips, him feeling your soft and plump lips on his, a kiss calm and passionate, followed by several other kisses.

★ He quickly paid the bill and took it home, his hand on your thigh as he drove. When they arrived in front of your house, you pulled him inside and started kissing, this time being more hot and needy, you looked into his eyes to see if he wanted that too, when he gave the green flag, devouring him. You became so fierce, maybe it was because of the glasses of wine you drank. He almost died when you took off your dress and threw it away, just stripping down to your lingerie and sitting on his lap, your eyes on his and saying, "I know I'm not that kind of person, just like you, but you're so sweet that I need it. You seem so right." you whimpered into his ear.

★ You started rubbing against him, so softly. Some murmurs came out of his mouth as she kissed him and his hands wandered around his waist. He kisses down her neck and his hands go to her breasts to massage, pressing them against her bra. Your hands unbuttoning his shirt, reaching his belt buckle, you got up from him and knelt in front of him, pulling down his pants, so submissive to him, his thick and big cock, barely closed in your hand, you almost worried if would fit you. You licked his glans, which expelled pre-semen, making him moan, licking the length to his balls, leaving no part unattended.

★ Your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock and swallowed it, putting it down your throat and taking it out, his head moving up and down, him murmuring how good you were doing, he grabbed a handful of your hair, starting to pump it into your mouth from behind of your pleasure, when his hips stuttered and you took him out of your mouth, cupping the valley of your soft breasts and stimulating him again until he released jets of cum covering your breasts and your chin.

★ He mumbled something watching you lick your chin until he got up and climbed onto you making you let out a little scream, lying on your back on the soft sofa, without delay, stuffing your insides and starting to pound you, your moans being music to his ears , begging him to go faster as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her nails hurting his shoulders and back. The sound of their skin slapping together, their sweaty bodies, sloppy kisses, their stained skin, panting and needing an orgasm.

★ He pounded into you more, feeling on edge as he shed a few tears as he moaned that he was close. You came in a strong orgasm, screaming loudly as you arched his back, pressing your chest to his, he hit it a few more times until he withdrew and came on your thigh. Silence filled the place, as he looked at you, brushing a few strands of hair off your sweaty face and gave you a gentle smile, saying: "I never imagined you would do something like that. You are unreal.", leaving you shy as you hid the face on his neck and he laughed in his own way.

Jeon Jae-jun

★ When you met Jae-jun, you found him irritating and presumptuous, thinking that the world revolved around him and he could have everything he had whenever he wanted. But you wouldn't say that, because he was his boss. The way he treated his employees was that of an arrogant and annoying boss, you and the others always had to swallow the complaints coming from Jeon in silence.

★ He wasn't the sweetest person in the world, but I must admit that he was handsome and seductive, it depended on what he was using that charm for, he was actually nice. Good, kind. One night, it was raining a lot and you were the only one there to close the store, there was no way to go with the storm on the other side of the window, it was heavy rain.

★ His eyes were looking outside when suddenly his boss came out of the "fitting room", upon seeing you he turned off his phone and put it away. "What the fuck, this all of a sudden!" He complained seeing that he couldn't get out of there so soon. "Are you still here? Oh, why?" Jeon addressed you. "I was closing the store, I didn't know you were there." She answered his question shyly.

★ He mumbled a few more things, walking side to side, until everything went dark. The light went away with the storm, of course; Bad place and time for this. "What the hell- We pay the power bill this month?" He asked again, receiving a nod. He took off his blazer with the heat that was starting to form, you swallowed hard seeing his muscular body, quickly looking away.

★ He sat next to you, his cell phone went dead and if he walked a little further it would ring louder. The silence was occupied by the sound of rain outside, not knowing what to do, nervous. You always denied that you had a crush on your boss, even if he was a scumbag, he was hot. Jae-jun looked at you, taking in your features and realizing how beautiful you were, his eyes traveling down the side of your face to your breasts trapped in your work blazer. "You're pretty, wow." He praised without thinking and you gasped. "What?" You asked and when you went to turn around, you felt his lips on yours.

★ He held the back of your head, kissing your lips in a rough, therefore delicate, way. At first, hesitant until you reciprocate. Just pulling away when he was out of breath, seeing his bruised lips, starting to kiss down, leaving open-mouthed kisses on his neck, unbuttoning his blazer and throwing it in some corner of the floor. So confused and excited that your shaking hands didn't know what to do, what were you doing? His hands quickly moving up to take off their clothes.

★ You barely remember how you got to the dressing room, sitting on your boss's dick while he said dirty things in your ears, fucking your brains out until your brains were mush. The rain falling heavily, the heat of the room and their bodies feeling as if they were on fire from the lack of light, their sweaty, thrashing bodies causing sounds that filled the room, their stained necks, messy hair, dizzy with pleasure and eager to reach its peak.

★ "Fuck! I never thought your pussy would be so good to fuck. I should have done it sooner Y/N, you're so hot." He said thrusting his hips into you, moaning together and kissing your lips in a way that made your hearts catch fire. Why is he saying these things? You thought, he wasn't that kind of person, but you weren't caring at the moment, feeling her dick kiss your cervix, making you moan louder. Both tired and overwhelmed, reaching their limits, so sensitive and weak, their bodies becoming limp until they lay down straight on the couch.

★ In the following days, you didn't speak to each other, you barely looked into his eyes, out of shame and shyness, you had sex with your boss, at the place you work, you just wanted to get into the ground even more because you couldn't get him out of own head. Intrusive thoughts causing excitement as he worked, flash of him fucking you in every position imaginable, abusing and filling your pussy perfectly with his thick, robust cock. When he would appear when you had these thoughts, making you blush and dizzy, always finding a way to escape.

★ Until one day, he cornered you. "Why are you running away from me?", quickly responding saying that he wasn't and that he was just doing his job, until an: "Um… Are you still thinking about me fucking your pussy?", his head shaking negatively, completely flushed and embarrassed. "It's okay. I hope you are, because I haven't stopped thinking about you since that day." Jae-jun whispered until he kissed you in a different, passionate and unusual way, your heart melting in your chest until he pulled away and smiled. "Tomorrow, at 8pm. I'll pick you up at your house, wear your best clothes." he said before kissing your lips again and leaving, leaving a red and confused you, almost bursting with happiness.

#👻 gh0st headcanons !#fluffy #smut #the glory #kdrama #kdrama fic #kdrama smut #ha do yeong #ha doyeong x reader #jeon jae jun #jeon jaejun x reader

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