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snowvies · 5 months ago

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Mr. Badgley

Penn Badgley x Fem!Reader

summary: you can't stop thinking about your married piano teacher, Mr. Badgley. and one day he slides under the instrument to show you how much he's been thinking about you too.

wc: 1k

cw: age gap (reader 19, Penn late thirties), cheating, piano teacher x student, pussy eating, fingering, female masturbation

Sundays are your favorite days, especially ones like this when the clouds hang low with a murky swirl in the sky. You're nineteen, and college is kicking your ass but you promised yourself you wouldn't think about the papers due when you're here, at Mr. Badgley's house.

You found his ad on craigslist, piano lessons..fifty bucks an hour you would've scrolled past it until you saw him, and his family. You felt safer in a random man's house when his wife and newborn baby were in the same room with you. So you started going there, ever since your freshman year.

Your raggedy car rolllsss to stop and you get out to see the lonely house, picked apart to be perfect, not a single thing out of place... except yourself.

His wife answers the door a few minutes after knocking, the cold biting your bare legs as you run in for warmth, completely missing her scowl at your lack of kicking the mat with your dirty boots.

Mr. Badgley offers you a warm smile, hair combed perfectly, sweater ironed and pants straight like every weekend. His eyes always look a little empty when you come. His wife jingles her keys around her finger as she readjusts the baby on her hip

"I'm going out, be done when I'm home" the same line. Every week. You smile her way but she doesn't pay mind to it, leaving you and her husband to play. you turn to Mr. Badgley but he's already walking to the connecting living room of the tiny house, sitting on the worn bench as he slides the fallboard up.

You sit next to him as he wears an excited smile, when he's like this, playing with you, it doesn't seem orchestrated by his wife. Every move he makes is analyzed by her, except this. The only reason he's allowed to do this is because they needed the extra money.

"Let's start where we left off last week, yes?" he asked and you nodded, you inhaled the mixture of musk and old books that surrounded the pianist as he began the background cords. his eyes are on you, they shine as his spine relaxes into the music and you begin your part. fingers dancing over keys as you try to remember the pattern

Your eyes squeezed shut once you messed the keys up. He smiles softly and lets a laugh out of his nose at your reaction

"Like this," his larger palm rests on top of yours as he guides your fingers, you nod and try again.

Soon enough an hour passes and you both rise from the bench and you dig into your purse for the fifty bucks you crumpled into it this morning, but, warm hands slide on top of your shoulder and the older man shakes his head.

"No need" he grins and tries to send you off but you insist, grabbing the money but he pushes you out the door.

"I will not have you pay for something that I enjoy just as much, Y/n, have a lovely week" The door softly shuts and you're left stunned.

You roll around your dorm bed, restless as the man's words keep ringing in your head. Why didn't he let you pay?

Maybe you're being dramatic. But it isn't like the Badgleys are set either.

You shut your eyes in a huff, suffocating yourself in the pillow under you as you replay the keys in an attempt to lull you asleep

But it isn't just the keys you're thinking about...

It's how his hand guided yours, it's how he looked at you when it was your part to play, it's his scent, it's his being. It's driving you mad.

You arch your back slowly, fingers sliding down your body until you get to your aching core. slick-filled fingers rubbing yourself at the thought of your teacher's hands touching you, grabbing you, loving you.

You moan into the pillow, legs shaking as you cream around your fingers, the thought of him drives you wild.

So just how will you act the next time you see him?

Before you know it, it's Sunday and you're back at the Badgleys, with his wife announcing her departure and the formal greetings of you and your teacher, you're back at that bench, side by side.

He starts the cords, and you follow trying to calm your shaking legs as you think about what fueled you that night. You couldn't even look him in the eyes this session.

His hand softly squeezes your bare thigh and you look back at the man.

"You're completely off" he informs you and you don't think your face could get redder.

"I-I'm so sorry...let's try again" you panic but his thumb rubs loving circles on your flesh.

"You usually think the world ends when you mess up, but you kept playing this time, you're mind is somewhere else Ms. Y/n."

"Sorry Mr. Badgley" you murmur

"Talk to me, get it off your chest so we can get back to playing" he smiles and you nod slowly

"...Why didn't you let me pay last time?" you ask, he stops for a moment as the hand on your thigh now rests on his face as he thinks for a moment.

"I just feel like, something so pleasurable shouldn't be bought," he says above a whisper and you feel your entire face glow, and he must have noticed with how he laughs.

"Not those pleasures, Ms. Y/n" he smiles and you don't think you've ever been so embarrassed. But when his laughter stops, his eyes swirl softly into something darker, in that moment you feel exposed to every thought as he eyes you.

He stands, hands finding your shoulders

"Keep playing"

You take a shaky breath as your thighs begin to shake once more, fingers finding the keys as you start the song

"Good," he whispers, his scents overwhelming you now as you feel almost dizzy while playing, you barely notice how he slips under the piano.

"Mr. Badgley, what are you doing?" you gasp as his dark brown eyes gaze up at you

"Keep.playing" he says sternly, and with a swallow, you keep going

He kisses your knees and you feel yourself sticking to your panties as he spreads them apart.

He has a wife. He has a kid. What are you doing?

"You're doing great" he huffs, kissing your thighs, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment as his fingers dance up to your panties.

He pulls them down slowly, your wetness sticking to the fabric before they are lost in his pockets

Your bare pussy is in front of your teacher's face as he rubs up and down your thighs taking a shaky breath in

You slam the keys as his tongue licks up your pussy, he moans into you before forcing you to scoot closer into his face, his hands wrapping around your ass as he slurps and moans at your cunt.

"Mr.- fuck" you cry, hands climbing to try and stop your moans as your hips buck up to hump his face

"You taste so so good" he groans, making out with your pussy as he sucks at your clit just to tongue fuck your hole

Hot tears flow down your face as he stares up at you, watching you come undone for him.

You shake around him, orgasm approaching closer with every lick, he sucks on your slit before adding a long finger to your hole. You throw your head back as he fingers you, flicking his tongue relentlessly as his finger curls inside you.

You feel him whine and moan against your pussy, and when you look down you see him gripping and grabbing at his hard-on as he eats you out. You cry as that sends you over and you cum around his finger

You're panting as he curls his fingers a few more times before shoving it into his mouth and licking you clean, you're shaking and wide-eyed as hair sticks to your face and he crawls out from under the piano

Right, weren't you two supposed to be playing right now? Isn't his wife about to be home and he's sucking his fingers because they still taste like you?

He helps you off the bench and you stare into the stained cushion but he turns your chin to him before kissing you deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue before breaking it off with a simple

"My wife is on her way...see you in our next session Ms. Y/n"

And you can't wait for next Sunday.

an: lmk how obvious it is idk anything about pianos. This is based on a dream I had last night 😵‍💫🖤 I hope you liked it <333

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libraryofgage · 1 year ago

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I realized Steve is absolutely that kid whose parents put him through piano lessons solely so they could have another way to show off at parties and shit. And then that thought morphed into a little Steddie plot bunny and here we are lol:

Steve doesn't know it's the last time he'll sit at the grand piano, the last time he'll press down its keys and let music fill the empty room before bleeding out into the empty house.

He doesn't know that when his parents next come home, his mother will notice how horribly out of tune the instrument is. He doesn't know that it will be sent off somewhere for repair (his parents won't tell him where, no matter how he asks, and he'll never quite understand why) and lost to him. He doesn't know his parents won't bother buying another one; it was only ever there to impress party guests when Steve sat down and played some Bach. Without those parties, company or otherwise, there's no point in getting another one: both the piano and Steve will have outlived their usefulness.

He doesn't know that he'll be storing away his sheet music, carefully placed into folders and in a waterproof box for safekeeping. He doesn't know that he'll soon become too consumed by high school and dating and monsters to idly write down notes on a staff. He doesn't know that when he's swinging a nail-ridden bat in the future (to destroy monsters, sure, but destruction is destruction, right?) he'll ache with the pain of missing the act of creation as a means of stress relief.

He doesn't know any of that, so Steve sits down at the grand piano with a soft smile, gently trailing his fingers over the keys before lining them up in the Middle C-position. He runs through a few warm-ups, letting muscle memory take him away, so he doesn't have to think. Without another thought, he seamlessly transitions into idly playing, bits and pieces of everything he remembers and songs he's heard blending together.

Mozart's Air morphs into Beethoven's Fur Elise into Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. It doesn't all sound good together, but that's not the point when Steve plays by himself. All that matters is letting his brain shut off for a bit, letting the notes and echoes mingle together to create something new and joyful.

After two hours on the piano, his wrists are aching; he always forgets to hold them in the proper position when he plays alone. But it's a good ache, one that reminds him of the music still dancing around in his brain.

Steve takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, feeling the last of his tension dissipate. He lets his hands linger on the piano for a little longer before standing and leaving the room, tragically unaware of his imminent and unavoidable loss.

--------

Steve is sprawled across an old couch in Gareth's garage, reading Eddie's well-loved copy of Lord of the Rings. He'd promised to at least give it a go, and he had to admit he was looking forward to finally understanding some of the references Hellfire Club and the kids make. His progress is slow, but he's almost halfway through after two weeks of work. Reading while Corroded Coffin practices helps; the background noise of their music is perfect, letting him ignore all other sounds and focus.

Of course, that's provided they actually play continuously instead of starting the same song over and over only for Eddie to stop them halfway through. When it happens for the sixth time, Eddie growls in frustration, tugging harshly at a lock of hair. "It still sounds wrong!" he cries, dropping into a crouch while cradling his guitar close.

"Stopping us halfway through isn't helping," Gareth points out, idly twirling a drumstick as he watches Eddie's lament.

"Do you know what's wrong yet?" Asher asks.

Steve can longer focus on Lord of the Rings. Instead, he places the book on his chest and looks at the band to watch how this plays out. Eddie scowls and looks up at Asher. "Unfortunately, Ashy Baby, no."

Jeff, meanwhile, has locked eyes with Steve. And because Jeff knows the perfect way to get Eddie off their asses is to get him on Steve's instead, he says, "Why don't you ask Harrington what he thinks?"

Eddie whips around to look at Steve, eyes wide and hopeful. He doesn't even bother standing from his crouch, instead waddling his way over to Steve and testing his ability to hold back laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the sight. "Stevie, baby, sweetheart, lover boy, please tell me that wonderful brain of yours has an idea so your favorite boyfriend can finish this rocking song."

"You're my only boyfriend."

"Which automatically makes me your favorite," Eddie points out, grinning as he leans closer. With Steve still laying down, Eddie's the perfect height in his crouch to kiss him. He lingers for a few seconds before pulling away, and Steve knows his own smile matches the dopiness of Eddie's.

"Have you considered adding a piano?" Steve asks.

"None of us know how to play," Asher says, and Steve would look at him if Eddie's face and hair and shoulders and everything weren't filling his entire line of sight.

Without thinking, Steve hums and says, "I do."

"Do what?" Eddie asks.

"Know how to play piano."

There's a silence that follows his sentence, one that makes Steve's stomach lurch as he wonders if he's maybe fucked up the shaky peace and friendship he's finally managed to build with the other members of Corroded Coffin. He doesn't know how his words might have done it, but he's scrambling to somehow take them back when Eddie slaps a hand over his mouth, the bands of his rings pressing against Steve's lips.

"Gareth, you still got that keyboard?" he asks, keeping his eyes locked on Steve. There's a light dancing in them like he's just discovered magic is real, like Steve has amazed him beyond imagination.

With a grunt, Gareth gets up from his drums and steps into his house. The rest of them stay in silence while waiting, Eddie refusing to remove his hand no matter how much Steve licks his palm. When he finally gives up and just glares at Eddie, his boyfriend grins brightly back.

"It's a little dusty, but it'll work fine," Gareth says when he comes back, and Eddie finally moves his hand and body, allowing Steve to see Gareth setting up a keyboard a few feet away from his drums.

"Okay, sweetheart," Eddie says, taking the book from Steve and carefully setting it aside before pulling him off the couch, "you've heard the song enough. Play what's missing."

Steve hesitates before walking over to the keyboard. Eddie sticks to him like a shadow, sliding his arms around Steve from behind once he's standing in front of the white and black keys. An odd nervousness churns in Steve, tugging at his spine and making his palms clammy, but he knows it would be much worse without Eddie there. If he had to play in front of the band without feeling like anyone was on his side, he'd probably just throw up instead.

"It, uh, it's been a while," he says quietly, easily falling into the muscle memory of tracing the keys and finding Middle C and dancing his fingers through warm-ups despite his words.

Eddie squeezes him tighter as Jeff asks, "Since you've played? Why?"

Memories of his grand piano rise in Steve unbidden, overwhelming him in a rush of longing for the instrument itself and the relaxation of playing. "My parents paid for lessons and had me play at company parties. They, uh, sent it off to be tuned, but it got damaged, and they didn't get another one."

"That sucks, Stevie," Eddie murmurs, soft and reassuring and Steve suddenly feels far more confident.

He looks up at Jeff. "Can you start playing again?" he asks, flashing a grateful smile when Jeff nods and starts strumming the song's opening notes.

Steve listens closely, breathing in the tune he's heard so many times and letting it take hold. He doesn't allow himself to actually think, letting Jeff's guitar and Eddie's arms and hair and scent drown out everything else. Before he knows it, he's playing a hesitant tune that grows with confidence as he follows the song laid out before him. He's always a measure behind, chasing the guitar's echoing notes as they fade.

He and Jeff make it through the whole song without Eddie telling them to stop. When the final notes of guitar and piano echo together, the latter still chasing the former even at the end, Steve is shaking with excitement and anxiety and grief and joy.

He lets out a slow breath, feeling tension he didn't even realize had lingered for so long finally draining from his shoulders and dissipating. Steve can also feel Eddie's face pressed against his neck, a smile searing into his skin as Eddie squeezes him even tighter.

"I love you so fucking much, Stevie, that's exactly what was missing," Eddie says, his words the only warning he gives before pulling Steve away from the keyboard and off his feet and spinning him around. His surprised yelp quickly morphs into laughter that still lingers even after Eddie has set him down again.

Gareth and Jeff and Asher have already started discussing how the other parts of the song might change with the addition of a keyboard, but Steve is too busy turning in Eddie's arms and kissing his smile away to pay them any mind. He can worry about inevitably being roped into the band's practices later, after he and Eddie are breathless and flushed and smiling bright.

#steddie fic #Steddie #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Corroded Coffin #Stranger Things #My writing #I got this plot bunny and fucking ran with it

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ajortga · 3 months ago

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love at first glance

pairing: tara carpenter x bass guitarist!fem reader

word count: 5.5k+

summary: in which tara admires your bass skills, then admires you even more.

author's note: please bear with me, i don't know what i'm doing but i'm just hoping these scrambled words just go well. tv girl mentioned!

based off request!

tara carpenter x masc! fem reader and reader is in a band, maybe like lead guitarist or bass? but like tara goes to a concert with all of the core 4 (+anika cuz i miss her) and like is mesmerized by reader. maybe they make eye contact during a song or sum? they leave the concert and tara is still thinking about reader and reader is still thinking about tara. cut to like later maybe at a party or a bar and they bump into each other and chop it up, but reader is like awkward-ish?

You’ve always had a love for anything that was related to music. Your parents made you take singing lessons ever since you were little.

At first, you hated it. Singing Mary Had a Little Lamb in different keys was not entertaining. But as you grew older and probably didn’t need to sing that song every practice, you began to use your house’s grand piano that was left untouched for years. And then, being able to sing and knowing your keys inside and out wasn’t so bad after all.

You spent countless times in the living room, the echo of your voice lingering against your house as you learned your favorite songs.

You wrote songs and composed as you experimented with your voice and the keys. It was almost never surprising when your parents caught you up late at night under your pillow, pencil scratching notes across lined pieces of paper. In every single talent show, audition, or musical, your name would be signed. Everyone in your family knew that one day, you’d grow to be a musician.

People would even begin to see you whenever they were at warehouses and you’d be playing a piano. At every gathering, your relatives would ask, “Where is that little Y/N?” And your parents would look at each other with a knowing glance, both saying confidently, “Probably in the living room with that damn piano.”

You loved listening to music, making music, playing music, feeling your emotions in music, god, every time you’d go out, your earphones would be in your pockets.

So when you were gifted an acoustic guitar for your 12th birthday, to say the least, you were fucking thrilled. Instead of playing the piano 7 days a week, you’d play guitar for half those days. Gosh, was it hard learning a string instrument after playing piano for half your life? Maybe. But you loved it.

You’d practice and practice, gradually getting better, then you’d play the electric and bass. And was the bass guitar a hell of a sound, you loved it.

Then, the best thing ever happened to you. You had grouped up with your friends and quickly became a band with all your talents combined. Slowly but surely, did you begin to realize how far you had gone. Because in a blink of an eye, you were at concerts, fingers pressing down on your strings as it electrified through stadiums and arenas while people cheered.

Cheered for you. That’s something you’ll never regret in your entire life.

You turn your bass’s machine head, plucking each string as you tune them before your concert. Nights like this never get old, you’d always be left with the adrenaline from every concert, like your body was refreshed when you slept under your hotel room’s covers.

As your hair and makeup stylist’s makeup brush dabs across your cheeks, you trace the outline of your bass guitar and look at yourself in the mirror. Layered hair, a black tank top over your toned arms, hidden beneath a red leather jacket. Your favorite part would probably be your nails painted red to compliment your hands. You had to keep them short though.

What would this night bring you? Everytime you close your eyes and listen, you can hear the faint echo of your bass vibrating through, lights swaying into the crowd, a smile forming on your face.

Every night had something different, there were different people, a different crowd, it makes you feel different every time. Yet you still feel the thrill and pride swell against your chest.

Junia, one of your closest friends that plays the drums, pops her head in. “You look hot,” she grins, “Jess said she’d come to pick us up at 40. You’re going to kill it, Bass.”

Bass. What an original nickname, you lean your chin into your palm as you raise your eyebrows, “You know it, June.”

7:45.

Tara looks at herself in the mirror, Mindy and Chad screaming at each other while playing Jenga in the background. She pushes a stubborn strand of hair away from her eyelashes while she curls them.

“CHEATER!-” Mindy yells, making the brunette flinch and breathe in frustration. She was not going to get her eyelashes pulled out.

After Tara was done with a cropped graphic tee, a jean skirt, and a cute little white bow in her hair, she walked through the hallway and into the living room, still adjusting her gold hoops.

There, Anika and her sister seemed the sanest out of them all. On the other hand, the twins were fighting over the remote.

“Babies,” Sam mutters, pushing her dark brown hair back.

Anika pulls the remote out of both of their hands easily while Chad mutters ‘what the fuck’ under his breath.

It was like being in a daycare. Tara ate a cookie while watching Anika throw the remote onto the sofa, wearing a lace tank top with jeans, “Mindss, why don’t we just leave the remote and find something else. Your hair is getting all poofy.”

“And a little dingussy,” Chad adds.

Mindy smacks him, “Don’t ever use ‘dingussy’ to describe something. It sounds sexual.”

Before they could say furthermore, Tara jumps in, mentally begging them to shut up for a moment, “You have the keys, Sam?”

Sam pulls them out of the pocket in her jeans.

Tara gives a small nod, looking a little over Sam, “Anika, tickets?”

“Yep, 5 of them,” she says, pulling out each ticket one by one with one hand and smoothing out Mindy’s hair with the other. When it was 5:30PM, they were all off, crawling into Sam’s car. Tara immediately sat in the passenger seat.

I’m not sacrificing my hair by sitting in the middle seat, she thinks as she looks back at Anika, who was basically separating the two twins that were probably yelling in her ear at this point.

“You guys will love them. Jess has always been one of the most talented people I know in music. I have no doubt her band will be the best on stage.”

When Anika had first mentioned when she won a giveaway for a concert. It was for a barricade, but it was stated that they were allowed to be in the front row, the tickets she won had granted her that. Tara wasn’t very interested. Music just wasn’t something she always listened to on a daily basis. But there were 5, and no way would she miss out.

So she listened to a song, played it on Spotify while walking to class.

The scene shifts to a local coffee shop in Woodsboro.

“Let me tell you, the bass was fucking amazing! Brilliant!” Tara yaps excitedly to the four people in front of her. She loved how well the drums, electric, lyrics, and bass sounded. The bass blessed her ears. She had immediately added it to her favorites.

“Bass, huh?” Anika smiles while drinking her coffee. “I think that’s one of the leads, Y/N. Jess always talks about how good she sounds, she usually comes up with all the riffs and lines.”

Y/N. It was unique, Tara made a note to remember it. Yet, she forgot about that conversation no less than 2 days after.

They all stepped out once they could see people lining up and buying the light up sticks that were controlled throughout the concert. Tara found it cool that the sticks had stars on them, in fact, the lights were one of the parts that made a concert a concert.

Mindy was yelling happily and doing a little dance once their tickets got scanned and they all ran to the front row.

Anika gave a cocky grin, “Maybe they’ll notice us because we’re in the front!”

It was thirty minutes until the background music came to a stop and the lights slowly started to dim. People were screaming, Tara’s heart was pounding against her chest. It was dead silent, whispers and occasional excited screams echoed.

“Oh my god, it’s happening,” Mindy whispers loudly, holding onto Anika as they look at the curtains.

They wait a moment, then two, and by the third one, drums begin to echo. ‘Tsst’ being echoed, before it follows with a loud 16th beat of drums. Then, the curtains open as Tara’s eyes widen.

Are you sick of me?

Would you like to be?

I'm trying to tell you something,

Something that I already said

The drums softly fill Tara’s ears, as she watches them play, she finally notices you. Perfect layered hair, messy in all the right ways. The bass girl. Something about the way the warmth of the light danced across your face in all the right ways captivated her. The way your deep red leather jacket hung over your shoulder, exposing your defined collar bones and toned arms while you pressed on strings.

Oh god, it felt as if a new story line with different love interests began to change for Tara. She could see the veins against your slim hands as they traveled across your guitar with ease. You mouthed the lyrics, enjoying yourself as you close your eyes and sway softly to the beat.

You like a pretty boy,

With a pretty voice

Who is trying to sell you something,

Something that you already have

The drums left Tara’s thoughts, now hearing you and the way that your bass adds on to the magic of it all. You’re just standing there, your bangs swiping across your features as you tuck it to your sides, smiling to yourself as you scan the crowd for a moment then look back down to your strings.

Maybe it was the way you looked like you were the right person for this part–to be on stage like you were meant for it. Or maybe it was the way your gaze flickered to the front row and landed on Tara’s wide ones. She could see the way you tilted your head and gave her a curious, wondering look, before giving her a small smile.

Oh my god, your smile was so cute. If she could describe it, it’s like the kind of smile that made her all giggly and was so contagious that she felt herself slowly smile.

The lights shine over your face, making everything about you glow. You pluck at the strings as you mouth the chorus to Tara. Her eyes searched all over your face. You don’t break eye contact with her.

But if you're too drunk to drive,

And the music is right

She might let you stay,

But just for the night

“And if she grabs for your hand, and drags you along,” Tara mouths back in time with the song.

One of your eyebrows raise as the light shines onto you once again, god, she can almost hear your soft, breathy voice teasingly singing, “She might want a kiss before the end of this song..”

Anika screams, jumping up and down and hyping everyone up, waving her heart stick in beat with the song.

Because love can burn like a cigarette…

By the end of the concert, Tara was love struck. Very very love struck. It was late when her and the four of her friends walked out, the stars shining just a little brighter. She couldn’t get you out of her head. She might have grown gray hairs. How could you be more than any other celebrity crush?

She prayed to the universe that it would align you both together. Just like each star was in the night sky.

It’s bad, Loving Machine is playing and she can only think about you strumming your guitar.

Here she comes walking down the street,

Maddie Klein and her fabulous loving machine-

“Earth to Tara, hello?” Anika pauses the music, waving her hand into the girl’s face. It was almost like a record scratch moment as Tara blinked and looked around. “Oh, sorry, what?”

“Did you like the concert?” She asks, holding onto her star light up as the red light makes the glitter under her eyes sparkle. Anika was now in the middle, the car a little quieter since Chad was now in the passenger seat.

“Oh yeah, I loved it.” Tara answers, half of her attention slipping away. She starts to see you from a camera, lighting cast against your tan skin, a TV effect on you, making your movements jerky.

The rest of the people are fading away, their voices, so loud and eager. Blah blah blah blah… Y/N.. Bassist. Love of her life.

Dreamy sigh.

Blah.. Blah.. “Yeah the bassist was hot.” Mindy’s voice suddenly being processed.

“What?” Tara immediately turns away from the window and looks at Mindy on the opposite side. Oh god, now she was going to have to fight for you? "No! Go find someone else to admire!” She grumbles, before immediately looking away.

The whole car shakes as they all laugh, playfully hitting Tara. “See? She was literally summoned, baby!” Anika giggles, talking to Mindy. “She wasn’t giving any shits when we were talking, and as soon as we talked about Senorita Y/N, she was like poof!”

Sam looks from the rearview mirror, an eyebrow raised, “Already? One concert that lasted two hours and she’s already wrapped you around her little finger?”

Little fingers, those veiny hands that played so smoothly across the-

Chad turns around excitedly, like a child peeking at surprise presents, “She was literally captivated the whole damn concert! You should’ve seen her, a love sick puppy!”

Her sister cackles, the car moving as she keeps snorting, “Gotta admit though, she’s fine wine.”

“Sam!” Tara rubs her cheeks, she seriously hoped she wasn’t going to have to battle till death for you.

“Chill!” Sam coaxes, putting one hand up in the air, “I would totally go for her if you weren’t interested. Didn’t think you had a thing for ‘Sam accepted’ girls.”

The freckled cheek girl couldn’t help but sigh, the thought of you still lingering in her mind. Like a twinkling little Melody who’s lyrics couldn’t get out of her mind, even when she slept.

It had been a week. Tara says that she doesn’t think of you too often, but every single time she hears your band’s song, you end up in her mind for the whole day. Every time she steps into a coffee shop, she wonders if you’d be the person to give a free concert.

She wonders if you’re as sweet as your name sounds. She wonders if you’d hold doors for others or walk old ladies down the street. She wonders if your hand would fit hers. She wonders if you had even thought of her after the curtains closed.

She wonders if you smell good, if you’d smell like a musky, sweet, fruity vanilla-y scent with leather undertones. She sure hoped so.

To say the least, you’ve thought about the brunette just as much. You were having fun, strumming your guitar and feeling the beat radiate off your skin. Until you lay eyes on her. She had wide, brown doe eyes that made your knees buckle.

She was heaven-sent. You could even make out her tan freckled cheeks. And you were almost in denial when she was looking at you. It was always who was singing that people looked at, heck, you did too. But you were looking at her. And she was looking at you.

Plenty of people might have looked at you, but she was different. Like she was mesmerized by how you played. Like she was a moth to your flame.

In fact, you don’t know if anyone has ever looked at you with that much admiration.

The girl was so beautifully written, you wished you knew who she was. Instead, she was one out of 8 billion people out there, in a blink of an eye, a close of a curtain, she was off.

Tara looked at herself in the mirror, standing there like.. She didn’t even know, her serious eyes trailing down to what she was wearing, before turning to Anika slowly.

“Anika, I look like a hot dog.” She cries, looking at the way the costume swallowed her whole in the fitting room.

“That’s because you’re wearing a hot dog costume, Tar. But you look like a steaming hot hot dog!” Anika shakes her head, her head only visible since she was basically a whole mustard bottle.

Mindy waddles through the living room, a red ketchup bottle, a red dangling earring complimenting her poofy hair. “Has anyone seen my earring? I can’t find it! It was in my purse and I thought if it looked good, I’d totally buy this.”

Chad walks in the girl’s fitting room, slightly peeking as Sam walks out of her dressing room, a serious expression on their face, a cookie and milk costume.

Tara wants to laugh, but no way in hell was she going to wear this at a costume party, at least not at a serious one.

After actually taking it seriously, Tara decides on a pirate outfit, tying up her bandana.

She can almost hear the music blasting from her apartment, which is filled with laughter and chatting from her ‘family.’

Her eyes skim over her board, looking for her calendar that was usually meant for school, roaming around the small photos of you and a heart drawn over your face. She traces over it, before getting ready to leave, not even looking at the calendar.

Maybe the calendar was just an excuse.

After 5 songs and a half of your band’s music, the core five, including sweet Anika, open the door. A heavy scent of booze fills their senses, sweat, and a mix of perfumes all lingered. Not to mention, it was stuffy.

“Ugh, do they ever think about AC?” Sam grumbles, clearly not a party person as she gets whacked across the face from a toilet plumber that belonged to a person who was wearing a damn toilet costume. Mindy cackled, before tripping and almost crashing into them, luckily her girlfriend tugged her back.

They pushed against cowboy hats and random inflatable dinosaurs, across the dance floor, and to the drinks station.

Tara did not leave empty handed, her mouth gulping down the bubbly bitterness of alcohol.

She was buzzed, a few drinks here and she was flushed and giggling, so she made sure to think about her intake. As she parted from the other four to find a trash can, scanning the groups of people. Sometimes she found people she knew at school, cute boys, just people she’s seen.

Tara took a different route back to her friends, the music growing louder in her ears when she got near the dance floor, slivering through bodies. It was almost inevitable that her nose would scrunch, too strong of a perfume, or just sweat.. It made her nauseous.

Where was she going? She didn’t know, she stood on her tippy toes, her ruffled blouse crinkling as she searched for her friends.

Her face smacked right into someone, her hand automatically being placed on their chest. She opened her mouth, about to apologize and prepare for a scolding until her nose twitched. A fruity and sweet vanilla-y smell, and a light leathery contrast.. No?..

“Shoot,” you look down, your drink almost spilling on yourself as you look at the shorter person as you smooth out their hair. Did you ruin it? “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

Tara looks at her outfit, perfectly fine, no stains. Hearing your soft, breathy voice, it was unrecognizable to her at first.

“No, it’s totally fine, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Tara says, immediately looking up and seeing your big curious eyes.

Oh my god.

Your eyes search hers, like you’re scanning her. Like you feel you’ve seen her before. No, you know you have. But where? The trace of her nose, doe eyes, oh! Tara almost puts a hand over her mouth because she can almost see the swirling sense of recognition in your eyes.

You opened your mouth to say something, maybe to ask about the concert, but you closed it. You don’t even know if she noticed you, maybe she was spacing out and was not acknowledging you during your concert a few weeks ago.

When it came to people, especially ones you crushed on, you were all stuttering words and pink cheeks.

The shorter girl sees the way you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and she registers what you’re wearing as her eyes trail down. And fuck, you looked angellic. Seriously.

A halo over your head and wings enveloping your sides. A black corset and ruffled skirt that showed a little of your legs, which were covered with tights. God, she thinks she can see the muscles as you cross one leg over the other.

It immediately makes you think she’s judging you. This costume was not your cup of tea, but your friends invited you to match with them, all angels in different colors.

The little pirate instead gives you a genuine look, “I like your costume,” she says, focusing a little too much on your toned arms and slightly flushed cheeks.

“I um.. Thank you..?” You bite your tongue, not knowing her name. In what chance do you get to meet the girl that made you think soulmates were real once again? At least a 1 in 300 chance.

“Tara,” she answers for you, pretending she didn’t already have your name embedded in the back of her head.

“I’m Y/N,” you bite a smile, she probably didn’t recognize you. You take a small sip from your drink, nose scrunching at the taste.

“You’re good at the bass,” she says nonchalantly, and you almost choke on your drink.

You didn’t think she’d recognize you, but now knowing that, you tilt your head. “Thank you. It comes from years of practice. What did you think?” You were genuinely curious.

“I think you’re just so good at the bass..” She mumbles, again, trailing off, before clearing her throat. “I mean, the bass always makes the songs so much better! You know? It’s like realizing how amazing something really is when you notice it-”

“I appreciate it,” you say, now aware of your surroundings because instead of where you two just bumped into each other, you were sitting at a table. You turn your head, looking at where you were, probably near the back.

Tara took the opportunity to notice your damn jawline, so perfect and sleek and defined-

“I like your freckles,” you admit, voice breathy. You turn back to look at her while batting your eyelashes, Tara’s eyes trained on how your hands.. Veiny hands lifted the cup to your lips.

The compliment almost catches her off guard, because with all the compliments she might get, freckles were usually not on the list. It used to make her insecure, but the way you said it and looked said otherwise. The alcohol was definitely taking a toll on you, because you were staring at her with no shame whatsoever.

Wide, searching eyes, it looked as if you were trying to memorize every detail.

The flutters in Tara’s stomach would’ve lasted longer. Except her eyes teared away from yours as she could see a very familiar ketchup and mustard costume and two other people behind them.

“Oh my god!” She groans quietly, covering her face as she scoots deeper into the booth.

She completely forgot that she slithered away from them, getting side tracked.

The brunette could die from embarrassment. You on the other hand.. Just prettily sitting there with a curious look on your face, the small warmth of the lamp casting a glow onto your face.

You bite your lip, trying to fight back a small giggle as you peek at the costumes that you can almost kind of guess who they are to Tara.

“SHE’S LOOKING THIS WAY!” Mindy hollers, tugging the mustard bottle next to her as Chad scribbles something on a piece of paper.

“Tara’s literally hiding from us.”

“Hold it up!”

They’re screaming at each other. You can’t hear it from all the music and party chatter, but you can definitely figure it out from their expressions. For a moment, they turn away from you, so you can’t see them.

You slip on a leather jacket that was in your bag.

A hiding Tara is in the corner of the booth, you raise your eyebrows at her.

It doesn’t take long before the four people across the room slowly turn to you in synchronization.

“Um, I don’t-” You start, feeling a little awkward.

They hold up a paper, and you can’t even see what the words are saying. It’s at least the size of a penny. And from here, you can’t even make out the words.

“Dingus,” Mindy shouts to her twin, noticing the confused expression on your face as you try to understand what the paper is saying. She finally turns the paper around after holding it up. “It’s too small, that’s why!”

One of the four holds up a finger, signaling you to give them a moment as they adjust, before turning around.

‘Give her your numbar’ The sign says, you still don’t get it. Oh, number. You grab a tissue from the booth, and take out a sharpie from your pocket. Sharpies were always needed whenever you went out. To write down something on your hand, to sign autographs..

You slip the paper to Tara, giving her a small smile. She was definitely embarrassed. She didn’t even notice you slipping it to her, because after 5 seconds of you sliding it to her again, she still was clueless! The girl, instead, turned around to look out, immediately still seeing her stupid friends.

You sigh, putting the paper into your pocket. You feel a little bad for her.

Party lights fill the empty crevices of the room while you scoot out of the booth and stand up, pretending you didn’t notice the four people who were staring into the back of your skull.

“I think my friends are playing some Uno, you wanna come?” You offer, guiding her out of the booth as you look down at her.

“Sure.”

As the game went on, the last two players in the center still battling it out, Tara could see you were all fuzzy and flushed.

You were definitely drunk. Too drunk to drive.

Your knees were nudged against hers, a little closer than expected, cuddled into her, but she didn’t mind. God no she definitely didn’t.

She was talking a lot, and you were always open ears and one of the best listeners. And then you would ramble and Tara would listen. It made you both feel heard and understood.

After a moment, you remember something.

“Can I borrow your phone real quick? Uh, my phone is dead right now and I have to text a friend where I’m at.” You lie, your words slightly mushed together.

“Sure,” Tara says, unlocking her phone and handing it to you, a little drunk. You try to ignore the fact that the wallpaper is you from the concert she attended weeks ago.

You slip into the contacts, adding your contact and changing the name to; y/n, the bass guitarist ♡.

She didn’t even notice for the rest of the night.

As the sun slept at night, Tara stared at the ceiling, her vinyl spinning while a crackled “Say Yes to Heaven” reverberated around her bedroom.

She wished she could’ve stayed so much longer, but her friends had to leave, and there was no way she was taking an Uber or driving when tipsy.

Tara wanted to ask for your number, but because you never asked, maybe you didn’t because this didn’t mean as much as it did to her.

Curiosity was getting the best of her as she checked the messages on her phone, wondering how you typed like to your friends. But to her surprise, there were no messages to a number she didn’t recognize. The last number was just to Sam.

Her nose wrinkled, swiping to check the apps recently opened as she clicked the recent one.

Dimples creased against her cheeks as she saw your name with a little heart. She immediately clicked to message you. But to her surprise, you had already done so.

y/n, the bass guitarist ♡: whatcha doing? i hope ur not asleep yet>:(

tara ☆🧭: thankfully not yet, i’m in bed. u know, i was going to be a little sad than i’d like to admit if i didn’t get your number.

y/n, the bass guitarist ♡: i did hand you a paper, but you were hiding in the corner of the booth and i thought it would be easier this way

It took her a moment to think of what to say, before she thought of something she never thought she’d do late at night.

tara ☆🧭: do u wanna call? maybe just talk to each other till one of us falls asleep.

You usually weren't the person to connect over facetimes and calls, sometimes you didn't know what to say in the moment. You don't know..

She doesn’t get a response for a minute, before her phone vibrates in her hand and she swipes to answer.

Your hair was let down loose, in an oversized tee that even then she could still see your collarbones. You give a sleepy smile.

“Tara,” you say softly, and something in Tara thumps because you look so happy to see her. She grins back, shifting so she could see you better.

“I’ve never really done one of these,” your quiet voice says, a warmer tone casting over your face. “Do you want to say hi to Cinnamon? He’s my puppy.” You say, pushing your hair back.

The brunette nods, “Puppies are so cute, my sister isn’t very fond though. They sometimes make her sneeze.”

“Oh, allergies you could get a poodle breed or something, Cinnamon doesn’t shed much,” you agree, your camera slightly shaking as she can slightly hear you call your dog's name in a cute voice. “Come here, boy!”

Seconds later, you bring out your puppy, which lolls outs his tongue as you press a kiss to his head. Tara can see your red nails as you mess up his hair.

“Tell me about yourself,” Tara says, looking at you through the screen with pure curiosity.

“I-” You pause, thinking for a moment before shaking your head. “I think you should tell me about yourself first. It’s late and I want to listen to you. As much as I’d try to stay up, I’d fall asleep if you went second.” You murmur, cuddling with Cinnamon.

What you said made Tara feel something she doesn’t feel often. Appreciated? Well, she always wants to listen to others when calling, then she might go second, but when you brought up her going first? That made her feel fireworks.

“Okay, what do you want to know first?”

“What’s your favorite memory and why?”

As an hour, then two passes, you begin to tell Tara about yourself. She’s never felt so heard before. Both your lamps are off, now the only light from each others screens.

She can tell you’re beginning to doze off. The way you’re pausing and blinking sleepily before murmuring a little too softly.

“What is something that you hate?”

You don’t say anything for a moment, your light breaths heard on the other end as you shift slightly and prop up your phone.

“Peppercorns..” You yawn, keeping your eyes half open. “They’re fine for seasoning, but when I bite into them, god.. It tastes so bad..”

You pause again, eyes heavy as you blink. “When you feel like you have to change for other people to like you. When you have to be someone you’re not because of people that don’t make you feel like you can be yourself.”

Tara nods, rubbing her eyes as she admires your defined features, even from the darkness. She could see the softness too. If she looked enough.

“I think those people make me feel the worst. Not wanting to be the one laughed at so you change to the one that’s laughing. Or when people talk down on the things you love. It hurts. And that’s something that I hope no one goes through.”

Wow, something about that makes her get to know the kind of person you are by a landslide.

“That’s a good response. What about your favorite fruit?”

“Mmm.. Watermelon. The sweet ones.. It’s so refreshing and…” You trail off, your eyes closing as your breathing evens out. Your lips were slightly parted, your puppy making a small whimper as he snuggles into you.

It’s silent, except for the faint white noise from Tara’s ceiling fan. You looked like a dream. Everything you talked about made Tara see nothing but good. And knowing that makes her feel like she should start seeing things the way you do.

A car passes by, the softest lyrics playing, it lulls Tara to bed.

We were listening to lovers rock

In her bedroom

You both fall asleep on call, maybe people were meant for each other.

#jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x you #vada cavell x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega imagines #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #cairo sweet x y/n

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basset-babe · 6 months ago

Text

five times: the one point five.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

warnings: none but gossip yet again

word count: 2.9k+

a/n: please do send me a message or comment down if you would like to be added on the succeeding taglists for the five times series! here is 1.5 times with ben. enjoy! thanks loves <3! (also, pls do imagine ben holding a graft rose for this one heh)

five times series: the first. the one point five. the second. the third. the three point five. the fourth . at last. text divider from @heavenlayt and pattern banner from @cafekitsune thank you!

the one point five time.

In the hours of sunlight, callers have flooded the Y/L/N drawing room. All bringing gifts and performances in hopes to win the favourable yes of the season's paragon, Miss Y/N Y/L/N. The grand parlor, adorned with exquisite tapestries and sparkling chandeliers, buzzed with the lively hum of conversations and the tinkling laughter of society’s elite. Lavish bouquets of rare, fragrant flowers filled the room, their heady scent mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed tea and delectable pastries arrayed on silver platters.

Gentlemen, dressed in their finest attire, lined up to present their offerings to Miss Y/L/N, each one more extravagant than the last. Some brought intricate jewelry, glittering with precious stones, while others offered rare books, hoping to appeal to her reputed love of literature. Musicians performed virtuoso pieces on the grand piano, their fingers dancing over the keys in a bid to capture her attention through the power of melody. Poets recited verses composed in her honor, their words dripping with adoration and longing.

Miss Y/L/N, the epitome of grace and poise, received each suitor with a warm smile and a gracious word. Her eyes, sparkling with intelligence and kindness, moved across the room, acknowledging the efforts and intentions of each visitor. Her charm was such that even a simple nod or a softly spoken thank you felt like a cherished treasure to the eager suitors.

The hour had struck past 1 in the afternoon when, hopefully, the last caller of the day had bid his farewells. The Y/L/N drawing room, which had been a whirlwind of activity, now began to settle into a quieter, more contemplative atmosphere. The sunlight streaming through the large windows cast a bright hue over the room, highlighting the opulent furnishings and the array of gifts that had been presented to Miss Y/N Y/L/N throughout the morning.

Servants moved gracefully, clearing away the remnants of the lavish spread of refreshments while ensuring that every detail of the room remained immaculate. The air was still fragrant with the scent of roses, lilies, and other exotic flowers that had been brought by admirers, creating a heady, almost intoxicating environment.

"As much as I do love botanicals, all these flowers have turned obnoxious to my senses, Grandmama," Y/N sighed, feeling the urge to slouch on the couch. Her frame was poised elegantly despite her weariness, a testament to her upbringing and the endless etiquette lessons she had endured.

Her grandmother, the Viscountess Y/L/N, reentered the room with a look of satisfaction mixed with maternal concern. "My dear," she said softly, "you have conducted yourself admirably. The attention you have garnered is truly remarkable, but alas, this be the trials of being the season's paragon," she said with jest. "A small price to pay for such adoration and the opportunities it presents."

Y/N allowed herself a small, rueful smile. "It has been a most eventful day. I do hope I have shown the proper appreciation to each caller." She gently plucked a stray petal from her gown, its soft texture a stark contrast to her current mood.

"Rest assured, my dear, that this too shall pass," her grandmother replied soothingly. "Soon, you will look back on these days with fondness, perhaps even in laughter."

Y/N nodded, though she wasn't entirely convinced. She admired her grandmother's ability to see the positive in any situation. Lady Y/L/N had once been the toast of her own social season, and her wisdom was hard-earned through years of navigating similar waters.

"Would it be terribly improper to open a window, Grandmama?" Y/N asked, her eyes drifting towards the heavy drapes that concealed the afternoon breeze. "I believe a bit of fresh air might revive my spirits."

The Viscountess chuckled softly. "Not at all, my dear. In fact, I think it would do us both good." She motioned to a nearby maid, who quickly moved to pull back the drapes and open the window, allowing a refreshing breeze to sweep into the room. The cool air carried with it the scents of the garden outside, a welcome contrast to the overwhelming floral arrangements within.

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling instantly more at ease. "Thank you, Grandmama. That is much better."

"Now, my dear," Mrs. Y/L/N said, her tone becoming more serious, "while you have a moment of peace, tell me—was there any caller today who truly caught your eye?"

Y/N considered the question carefully. There had been many suitors, each with their own merits. Some had been charming, others earnest, and a few rather boastful. But it was not that she minded all these suitors; it was who she looked forward to that truly occupied her thoughts. It had been this Bridgerton man she'd hoped would be calling on her the entire morning. Unfortunately, he had not been seen yet in this drawing room.

"Y/N, my dear, are you still with us?" Lady Y/L/N's gentle voice broke through her reverie.

"Yes, Grandmama," Y/N replied, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "I was merely thinking."

"About anyone in particular?" her grandmother inquired with a knowing smile.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then decided there was no point in hiding her thoughts from her perceptive grandmother. "To be quite honest, I was hoping to see Mr. Bridgerton today.. well as of this morn," she admitted. "I fear he may have been otherwise engaged."

"Ah, Mr. Bridgerton," Lady Y/L/N said thoughtfully. "A fine young man, from a respected family. It is no wonder you look forward to his call. Perhaps he will still make an appearance."

Y/N nodded, though she knew the likelihood was slim as the noon wore on. She took another deep breath of the fresh air now circulating through the room, trying to shake off her disappointment. The season was long, and there would be other opportunities to see him again.

"There was Sir Nicholas Deveraeux. He was quite charming," Y/N remarked.

"He comes from a good family as well, but I've heard his uncle," Her grandmother leaned in conspiratorially, "envies the crown."

Y/N laughed at the Viscountess' antics. "Grandmama, that's quite scandalous. Wherever did you hear such a thing?" Y/N laughed.

"Deborah told me," her grandmother said, motioning to her maid. Y/N couldn't help but laugh at the notion of her grandmama indulging in gossip. "But I must tell you, I keep my options open still," she stated matter-of-factly, regaining my composure.

"Even though you are clearly captivated by Mr. Bridgerton's smile," Her grandmother teased. "It is wise to keep your options open, my dear, so as not to appear too eager for any one gentleman's attentions."

"Indeed," Y/N thought to herself, "it is prudent not to seem desperate and helpless this early in the season. After all, the season is just beginning, and there will be many more opportunities for maybe much more meaningful encounters."

The older woman patted the young lady's hand reassuringly. "You are a clever girl, my Y/N. Your charm and grace will surely attract many suitors. Just remember to enjoy the process and not to place all your hopes on one gentleman, no matter how enchanting his smile may be."

Y/N nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. The season was an adventure, and she was ready to embrace it with an open heart and mind. As her grandmama said, there would be many chances to find the right match, and she intends to savor every moment.

Just as she was about to resign herself to the wait, a soft knock sounded at the drawing room door. Both Y/N and her grandmother turned their heads in surprise as the butler entered.

"Forgive the interruption, ma'am," he said with a slight bow. "But there is one more caller who has just arrived."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as the butler stepped aside, revealing none other than Mr. Bridgerton himself. He stood at the threshold, his confident demeanor softened by a warm, sincere smile.

"Good afternoon, Lady Y/L/N, Miss Y/L/N," he greeted them, bowing respectfully. "I apologize for my tardiness. I hope I am not intruding."

Lady Y/L/N's eyes twinkled with amusement as she replied, "Not at all, Mr. Bridgerton. We are delighted to see you."

Y/N felt her spirits lift instantly, her earlier fatigue forgotten. "Indeed, Mr. Bridgerton," she said, her smile reflecting the genuine pleasure she felt. "Your timing is impeccable."

Mr. Bridgerton's eyes met hers, and for a moment, it felt as though they were the only two people in the room. "I am glad to hear that, Miss Y/L/N," he said. "I have been looking forward to our meeting."

As he stepped further into the room, bringing with him an air of warmth and possibility, Y/N knew that this visit was just the beginning. The season held many uncertainties, but in that moment, with Mr. Bridgerton's presence brightening the drawing room, she felt a renewed sense of hope and excitement for what was to come.

He walked closer, offering his wrapped gift with a warm smile. "I know of your love of botanicals. Although, I wasn't sure what to get, but I opted for a grafted Rosa Falstaff from our estate's own gardens."

Y/N's eyes widened with surprise and delight as she reached out to accept the potted rose. "A Rosa Falstaff? From your family's gardens?" she exclaimed, her fingers gently tracing the leaves and delicate blooms.

"Yes," Benedict nodded, his gaze softening as he watched her reaction. "I thought it would be a fitting addition to your collection, considering your fondness for floriculture."

"Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton. This is truly truly thoughtful of you." Y/N's eyes lit up as she accepted the graft, appreciating the gesture.

Mr. Bridgerton smiled, a hint of relief and pleasure in his eyes. "I'm glad you like them, Miss Y/L/N. I thought something from home might be more personal and meaningful than the usual offerings."

Mrs. Y/L/N, observing the interaction with a pleased expression, decided to give the young couple some space. "If you'll excuse me, I have some correspondence to attend to," she said, rising gracefully. "Please, Mr. Bridgerton, make yourself comfortable."

As her grandmother left the room, Y/N gestured for Mr. Bridgerton to sit beside her on the elegant settee. "It's so refreshing to receive something so genuine," she said, placing the graft gently on the table beside them. "Tell me more about your estate's gardens. They must be quite beautiful."

Mr. Bridgerton settled into the seat, his expression brightening as he began to speak. "Our gardens are indeed a sight to behold, especially in the spring. We have a variety of flowers, from different roses to lavender, and even some more exotic species like that which my mother is particularly fond of. Each section of the garden has its own unique charm and character."

Y/N listened intently, her interest piqued not just by the subject but by the way he spoke with such genuine affection for his home. "It sounds enchanting," she said. "I would love to see it someday."

He smiled, clearly pleased by her response. "I would be honored to show you around Aubrey Hall, Miss Y/L/N. Perhaps you could offer some advice on expanding our collection of botanicals."

"I would be delighted," Y/N replied, her smile matching his. "There are always new species to discover and cultivate. It would be a pleasure to share that with someone who appreciates it as much as I do."

As they continued to talk, the conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on various topics of mutual interest. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them engrossed in their exchange. The connection they felt was palpable, a promising hint of what could be a deep and meaningful relationship.

The noon sun cast a golden glow through the open window, bathing them in warm light. It was as if the world outside had conspired to create the perfect moment, one that Y/N would cherish as the beginning of something truly special.

"Why not a change of scenery, Miss Y/N? May I enchant you to a walk with me this afternoon?" Mr. Bridgerton asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Y/N felt a flutter of excitement at his proposal, though very different from norm indeed. The thought of a leisurely walk, away from the confines of the drawing room and amidst the fresh air and beauty of the outdoors, was undeniably appealing. She glanced at her grandmother, who had discreetly lingered near the doorway.

Mrs. Y/L/N, catching her granddaughter's hopeful expression, gave a subtle nod of approval. "I think that sounds like a splendid idea, Mr. Bridgerton," she said. "A bit of fresh air through my garden will do you both good."

"Thank you, Grandmama," Y/N replied, her smile widening. She turned back to Mr. Bridgerton, her eyes meeting his with a mix of excitement and gratitude. "I would be delighted to join you for a walk."

Mr. Bridgerton offered his arm, which Y/N took with a graceful nod. Together, they made their way out of the drawing room and through the grand halls of the Y/L/N residence. The household staff, now accustomed to the comings and goings of numerous callers, discreetly stepped aside, offering polite smiles as the pair passed.

As they stepped out into the sunlight, the warmth of the afternoon embraced them. The gardens of the Y/L/N estate stretched out before them, a riot of color and fragrance that promised a delightful stroll. Birds chirped melodiously, adding a charming soundtrack to their walk.

"Your gardens are truly beautiful, Miss Y/L/N," Mr. Bridgerton remarked as they began their promenade. "It's easy to see where your love for botanicals comes from."

"Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton," Y/N replied, her gaze sweeping over the well-tended flower beds and neatly trimmed hedges. "I find great joy in spending time here. There's something so peaceful about being surrounded by nature."

They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments, taking in the beauty around them. Y/N's lady's maid chaperoning behind. The gravel path crunched softly underfoot, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves overhead.

"I must admit," Mr. Bridgerton said, breaking the silence, "I was quite nervous about coming here today. I wasn't sure if my gift would be well-received."

Y/N looked up at him, surprised. "You needn't have worried," she assured him. "Your gift was one of the most endearing ones I have received. It speaks volumes about your character and your genuine interest. Quite a change in the morn's most fragrant bouquets. All exquisite but a tad bit too much on my senses." I gestured towards my nose.

He smiled, clearly relieved. "I'm glad to hear that, Miss Y/L/N. I hoped to make a meaningful impression."

"You certainly have," she replied warmly. "And now, here we are, enjoying a lovely walk together. It seems your efforts have been rewarded."

As they continued their walk, their conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on topics both serious and lighthearted. They shared stories, laughed together, and discovered common interests. The connection between them grew stronger with each passing moment, the bond of friendship and potential courtship becoming more tangible.

"So, do tell me more about you, Mr. Bridgerton."

"Do call me Benedict, if you please. Provided, of course, that you feel comfortable and we are beyond the earshot of your lady's maid." his eyebrows raise in suggestive jest.

Y/N chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. "Very well, Benedict. You may address me by Y/N as well."

Benedict smiled, clearly pleased by her informal, now more familiar, address. "My days are usually spent at home, but sometimes, I spend my time in my art studio at the academy."

"Yes, you've mentioned of yourself an artist, I remember." Y/N remarked, intrigued. "That is fascinating. What sort of art do you create?"

Benedict's face lit up with enthusiasm as he began to describe his passion. "I work primarily with oils on canvas, though I do enjoy sketching as well. There's something incredibly satisfying about capturing a moment or a feeling in a piece of art. It’s a way to express myself that words sometimes fail to achieve."

Y/N listened intently, her admiration growing. "I would love to see your work someday. It must be wonderful to have such a creative outlet."

"It is," Benedict agreed, a note of pride in his voice. "And I would be honored to show you my studio and some of my pieces. Perhaps I could even paint your portrait, if you would allow me."

Y/N blushed at the thought, a mixture of shyness and excitement. "I would be delighted, Benedict. Though I must warn you, I may not be the most patient of sitters."

Benedict laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I’m sure we would manage just fine. And who knows, you might find the experience enjoyable."

"I look forward to it," Y/N said, her smile reflecting her genuine interest. "But tell me more about your family. I have heard much about the Bridgertons, but I would love to hear it from your perspective."

Benedict's expression softened as he spoke of his family. "We are a large, close-knit group. There are eight of us siblings, and we were all raised with a strong sense of duty and love seeing my late father and mother attend to our household. My mother, Violet, is the heart of our family. She has always encouraged us to pursue our passions and support each other."

"That sounds wonderful," Y/N said, touched by his words. "Family is so important. I imagine it must be lively with so many siblings."

"It certainly is," Benedict replied with a grin. "There is never a dull moment at Bridgerton House. We have our share of disagreements, of course, but we always come together in the end. All the laughter and camaraderie make it worthwhile."

Y/N felt a warm connection forming between them, their shared values and interests creating a bond that felt both natural and exciting. "I would love to meet them all someday, even so now that your brother has found himself a wife. Such exciting things!" she said.

"And they would be delighted to meet you," Benedict assured her. "I can already tell that you would fit right in."

"He thinks of me as someone who would fit with his family? I could feel my heart flutter," Y/N thought, the realization sending a warm, thrilling sensation through her.

As they continued their conversation, the afternoon sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the garden. The hours had slipped away unnoticed, a testament to the ease and enjoyment they found in each other's company.

Eventually the day had struck shy of 3 at afternoon and they made their way back to the main house, the promise of future meetings and shared experiences hanging in the air. As they reached the steps, Benedict turned to Y/N, his expression earnest and hopeful.

"Thank you for a wonderful afternoon, Y/N," he said. "I look forward to our next meeting."

"As do I, Benedict," Y/N replied, her heart full of anticipation. "Until then."

With a final, warm smile, Benedict took his leave, leaving Y/N with a sense of happiness and a fluttering hope for the future. The day had been more than she could have imagined, and she felt a deep sense of gratitude for the connection they had begun to forge.

taglist: @novausstuff @pussyslayerhd @amoosarte

#benedict bridgerton x you #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #x reader #fem reader #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton/reader #fic #bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton oneshot #fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x y/n

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write4cench · 1 year ago

Text

distractions.

summary: central cee and you decided to collaborate together on a track together, but when things get a little too heated your minds drive… elsewhere

pairings: single!central cee x reader

genre: smut.. just smut

word count: 2.6k+ (unedited)

a/n: this is my first smut lmao can't believe i've done this, i mean i couldn’t help it central cee too fine. i’m not the best at it though.. 😁😁🙏🏾

central cee and you both spend your time in his private studio, located in his apartment. it's decently sized but not too spacious, regardless it gets the job done and the both of you manage to produce and record your lines for the track.

you've both wanted to work with one another on a song together and so have your fans, they've been awaiting this for so long that your management team decided it was the best decision.

you stand on inside of the booth looking down at the lyrics sheet that lies in front of you, humming the rhythm before the track plays within your headphones and you begin to sing along over your back vocals.

cench sits in front of you layed back in one of the wheely chairs that sit behind the booth, he watches you sing nodding his head to the rhythm of the song but also impressed by your vocal abilities.

it's the two of you alone in the studio which is quiet unusual considering the fact that during the last studio sessions the studio was filled with friends of central cee who decided to show up.

but instead this time, it's only the two of you. but it feels far from awkward it feels comforting and you both focus on getting the work done.

the song's chorus comes to and end and he stops the instrumental from playing again, upon finishing you glance at him and put a thumbs up asking him if you did good enough of a job, he nods and you do a small celebration that makes him laugh.

he begins to speak but it's too muffled due to the soundproof booth so you take your headphones off and open the door slightly to hear him better, "you did great, we don't even have to run it over again." he admits and you smile.

"you sure, i feel like some of it was a little off." you tell him but he shakes his head in refusal so you decided to leave it since it is his song after all.

"can i hear it over?" you ask him and he nods playing it over again, you put the headphones back onto your head and listen to it carefully.

the song starts off with central cee's wonderful rap that as usual never miss, the song then slips into the chorus that you sing and the beat drop before it sounds perfect.

the booth of you glance at one another in satisfaction at the song so far, sharing a smile as it continues before stopping at the progress so far.

"i think it's great so far." you say with a sigh as you sit behind the booth on one of the wheely chair turning yourself side to side.

"it's more than great." he mumbles.

the room is quiet and you decide to take out your phone, you glance at the time to see it read 10:43pm, it's getting later and you consider leaving within the next 20 minutes.

he finds an interest in the piano in front of the two of you, playing random notes that don't even sound too great together, you watch him finding the sight hilarious he notices so and shrugs embarrassed.

"i'm not too much a piano player," he sighs shaking his head trying to save himself, "i took lessons for a week and gave up on it." he clarifies and you nod your head numerously in a joking manner.

"can you even play any instrument?" you ask him genuinely and he shakes his head, your mouth drops in disbelief.

"maybe it's something i should get into, i don't play anything." he admits before smiling sheepishly.

"i'll show you something."

your hands find a placement onto the keyboard, testing out the position by pressing down on the notes to get the right keys. you begin to play something small and watch how his face turns into full surprise.

you smile as you continue before you get to distracted by him watching you and pause, "i can't focus with you watching me like that." you tell him annoyed and he laughs.

"forget i'm even here." he sighs closing his eyes and leaning back into your seat; you watch him do so frowning.

"how am i supposed to forget your there." you tell him but he doesn't respond so you exhale deeply before continuing to play the piano.

you'd admit, it's been a while since you've last played the piano but you've impressed yourself by still remembering the notes to the piece you play every single time.

you continue to play the piano forgetting he's even there until you come to an end, when you turn to look at him he's still laid back into his seat with his eyes closed, his hood lying over his head.

is he sleeping?

you hit him on the side of his arm and he winces before sitting upright, his hand rushing to soothe where he was attacked, "that fucking hurt." he groans and you smile to yourself.

"were you sleeping whilst i was playing?" you question him and he sighs still whining over the punch you just gave him.

"you didn't need to punch me like that," he starts watching how you only smile, "i wasn't sleeping, i was just resting my eyes innit."

you hum in response and watch how he sits upright in his seat rolling the chair over to stand beside you, he glances over the keys on the piano before speaking. "teach me something." he says.

"what am i supposed to teach you." you question him, he shrugs his shoulders with a yawn not helping you one bit.

"i dunno, maybe a chord or some shit." he utters and you bite your lip in thought of watch chord to do. he watches as your hand runs along the keyboard thinking of a position before it plays a chord.

he watches you carefully and when the pleasing sound rings he glances at you only to find you looking at him already, "did you see that?" you ask him and he shakes his head.

you roll your eyes in response, "what, am i supposed to get it on the first try?" he questions you confused only to see you nod.

you watch as his tattooed hand reaches over attempting to do the same hand movement that you did, but it doesn't succeed to make the correct sound.

"no, your supposed to do it like this." you mumble, your hand reaching over to correct his. you move his hand one down along and place it on top of his getting him to push it down as it sounds the correct chord.

"what chord was that?" he asks you curiously, you glance to look at him and it's only then you both notice how close you are to one another.

"c." you say. upon hearing your response he laughs to himself and you watch him confused, after seeing your confused face he stops laughing.

"it wasn't a c, for central cee." you mumble.

"yeah, definitely."

"you're not that special." you joke to him as you move your hand away from his and he nods gazing at you, it's only when you look up that your eyes meet his.

"mhm."

silence. you don't know what to say to him and you won't lie the way that his voice sounded when he hummed did something to you. you feel your cheeks begin to redden and you mentally curse at yourself.

luckily, the room is tinted dark blue so it's impossible for him to notice a thing; or it could just really be due to your melanated skin.

it's obvious that he notices how he's caught you out of words as a smirk grows upon his face, you watch his lips do so until he brings you out of your thoughts. "i got you quiet, i won." he mumbles.

you remain quiet not saying anything until the space between the two of you becomes smaller, before you could think of anything your lips press against his.

you can feel his smirk widen against your lips wider before he kisses you back, deeper but not too desperate. you don't even notice the fact you've just kissed central cee, your mind is just completely filled with.. desire.

the kiss runs long and you feel his arms wrap around your lower waist bringing you close to him, but the inconvenience of the chairs makes you get up from your chair and sit up on his lap instead.

it's then that everything hits you and you pull apart from his lips, your chest heaves numerously in sync with his and you eyes glance all over his face as you realise what's happening.

his gaze reads something completely different, his once playful eyes have turned dark and hazy showcasing lust instead it makes you ache for more and the position of you siting up on him creates even more need within your lower region.

"fuck." he says and before you know it, he's kissing you again. the kiss is more desperate and you fall into it, he takes the dominance but you try to keep a hold of everything by wrapping your arms around his neck.

you feel him grow harder and harder beneath you just how you grow desperate and desperate, you need him badly just as bad as you need him. you'd never ever think that tonight would turn out the way it did.

your hips subconsciously begin to move slowly against his but he grabs a hold of you stopping you, his lips part away from you and you frown at him, he sees this and smiles.

he kisses your neck and you lean your head back giving him even more space, you don't care that you'll probably end up with hickies all over your neck when you feel him slightly bite you, all you need is him.

"i need you so bad." he mumbles against your neck before pecking your neck all the way up to the side of your face, you look at one another before it hits and you share a smile.

before you know it your up from his lap and your hands occupy themselves into pulling his sweats down, when you see the sight of his harden self through his pants you glance back up at him only to see him covering his face with his hand.

you pull down his boxers and he springs free his member hitting you against your nose catching you aback, you stare at him for a moment but a moment too long and he peers down at you.

"don't just stare at it." he groans and you smile, you lick the tip of his cock and the pleasing sensation sends a moan to leave his lips. you tease him, your tounge running around the tip where he's most sensitive and he moans.

he grows to desperate and before you know it his hand comes up to your head, he finds a comfort in your hair before he pushes your head down his shaft slowly.

you breathe through your nose as you take in his size before growing used to it and beginning to pump your head slowly down his shaft continuously causing him to groan quietly.

he uses your head to help him reach his high, pumping you slowly down him but also muttering how good you are occasionally. you feel your eyes begin to water slightly but luckily you don't have to much of a gag reflex.

"fuck, you're so good." he groans as he watches you take him, his hand helping to move your hair away from your face, he closes his eyes tightly as he approaches his orgasm.

his moans become shorter and more intense and it's then you can tell that he's about to release any minute. perfect. you pull away from him and he looks down at you confused.

you watch as he glares at you annoyed, "what the fuck was that for?" he asks you but you don't say anything rubbing your mouth clean with the back of your hand.

his eyes don't leave you once, reading nothing but pissed at the interruption of his orgasm, he watches you as you take off your trousers and pants; his cock twitching ever so slightly as it pleads for your attention.

"you think i'd let you cum first?" you ask him and he furrows his brows in complete denial.

you approach him as you kick away your lower clothes that pool around your feet, glaring at him "fuck me then." you tell him, he watches you with his mouth agape never expecting to see you turn into a completely different person.

you lean against the producing equipment waiting for him expectantly, but when you feel his presence behind you and his hands hold your ass you let out a moan.

he slaps your ass, making you gasp at the sudden pain before he rubs your cheek to soothe it. he pulls out a condom from the inside of his pocket and you turn around to glance at him at the sound of it opening.

"you had that on you all along?" you ask him and he grins taking it out before pulling it over his cock.

"knew i'd need it." and with that he pushes himself into you slowly without warning making your mouth agape.

he waits for a moment until he's all the way in you before he starts to move, thrust in and out of you each time causing you to moan.

your bodies are in sync as he fucks you getting turned on by the sight of you bent before him as he fucks you senseless. he gradually becomes more faster and his thrusts become stronger.

"shit." you moan although your words sound all messed up due to the rocking back and forth you experience from his thrusts.

your hands hold onto the bumpy toggles in front of you trying to find something to hold onto as you take each thrust that runs through you. you're floating in ecstasy and it all feels too good.

he moans many things under his breath that you can't pick up on too busy by being engulfed in the intense pleasure you experience as you gradually approach your high.

you feel his hand reach over underneath you, rubbing your sensitive clit whilst he takes you; the feeling of him inside you, but his hand rubbing on your sensitive bud makes it all eventually unbareable.

your moans become louder and more desperate as you feel your high approaching; once again his hand slaps your ass earning another loud gasp from you.

your hair is held up my his hand and it's obvious your makeup is probably fucked up by now, but at this point that doesn't even matter to you anymore. everything just feels too good.

you reach your orgasm and pant vigorously, he notices this and pulls out of you rubbing himself with his hand as he releases himself inside of his condom.

you rest your head on the equipment in front of you as you both catch your breath, it's only then that you feel your legs become to grow all achy and weak.

"shit, my legs." you laugh to yourself as you wobble; he notices this and laughs tying the condom and obviously throwing it into the bin.

"good luck." he jokes and you roll your eyes.

"i need to shower." you complain feeling all sticky as usual after sex, he hums in agreement.

"i'll shower with you." he smiles.

you attempt to push him away but due to your growing weak legs you fail, instead complaining about how sore they are. seems like central cee has won in keeping you quiet.

"so are we gonna work on the track again?"

"probably not for now."

#central cee x y/n #central cee imagines #central cee smut #central cee #cench #central cee x reader #centralcee #centralceeedit #central cee x you #reader x central cee

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lightbluetown · 1 year ago

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i saw some people say ed and zheng are master strategists while stede is just some guy with ridiculous luck, but i think that's unfair. sure stede's ideas are insane, but they fit the looney tunes ass universe of ofmd perfectly. they're mostly well-thought-out, well-executed and they showcase stede's strengths and growth! so allow me to talk about them:

1- ghost of the forest - 1x02

a fuckery™ before stede even knows what a fuckery™ is! this is amateurish and stupid in every way. he's not even threatening izzy with a real dagger-- that's a letter opener. does izzy actually believe that stede has a huge crew hiding behind the bushes? doubt it! but this weird little act is enough to establish stede as a (ridiculous) pirate figure to the legendary izzy hands and to accomplish his goal of taking a hostage back

2- lighthouse - 1x04

imagine coming up with the exact same idea at the exact same time as the most brilliant tactician of the seven seas! we don't know who came up with which parts of the plan (honestly it was probably mostly ed) but this is still bloody impressive

3- stark revelations - 1x05

stede's first big success! he uses his knowledge of the aristocratic world to get a shipful of rich assholes to destroy each other, but he's also showcasing what sets him apart from them: this plan only comes to fruition because stede talks to frenchie, olu and abshir as equals. as people he can learn from, as sources of inspiration

4- duel with izzy - 1x06

this one was absolutely unhinged, but its success was far from dumb luck. only stede could think of using a brazillian cherry wood mast and ed's weird stabbing lesson to win a duel, and that's what makes this plan so undeniably stede and brilliant

5- faking his death - 1x10

i love that he just had to "die" in the most dramatic way possible. a heroic fight (tiger), a realistic accident (carriage) and the most cartoony death in the book (piano)... not only is his triple-death able to convince everyone in barbados that he's dead for good, it also allows him to have closure with his family. it's filled with stede's ridiculous unique flair, but it's designed to be a fuckery™ through and through. ed would be SO proud

6- stealing jackie's indigo dye - 2x01

quick little stealth mission. did ricky manipulate stede into trying this out? sure. did ricky also ruin it? absolutely. but it was working until then! the swede isn't part of stede's crew at this point, but his respect for stede is what gets him to cooperate and risk his relationship with his beautiful wife. also, it's thanks to his love for fine things that stede immediately recognizes the value of "blue dirt"

7- prison break - 2x03

in my eyes no scene depicts stede's growth better than this one. knocking zheng's entire crew out with tea is the most stede thing out there, and this plan uses the cherry wood mast as well! this plan relies on stede's (unrealistic) tea knowledge, overly-fancy ship and ability to coordinate his crew. what makes it breathtaking is that he secretly sets this plan into motion while actively mourning the "death" of the love of his life. he's putting his life on the line to rescue ed's "killers" because he's emotionally mature enough to look at things from their perspective and forgive them

8- inciting a mutiny - 2x06

yet another brilliant plan that could only be executed by stede. this entire episode revolves around his idea of "turning poison into positivity" and here he, well, fights poison with positivity. stede captains his pirates with respect and care (best he can) which just so happens to be the opposite of ned. he exploits this and gently gets ned's crew to turn on him. he singlehandedly saves himself and his entire crew from a notorious pirate! oh he also literally invents walking the plank right after this

9- "it's only suicide if we die" - 2x08

okay, yes, this one didn't go that well (sorry iz). but it's not like ed, zheng or anyone else had any other ideas! stede's weird suicide mission, for the most part, worked. they needed to get through british soldiers to reach their ship and they did exactly that. if only they'd remembered to check if ricky had his gun... oh well, you live and you learn

sure, ed and zheng are legends and stede is a silly newbie with wild luck. but he's also quick-witted, creative, confident and brave! he's a damn good captain and he deserves to be recognized as a good strategist!

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #ofmd meta #i love my boy so much i will not let anyone disrespect him thank u #🏴‍☠️

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ghcstao3 · 5 months ago

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outsider pov, music teachers ghost

they both work for this small little studio that teaches a variety of instruments, though the staff all have their own specialities—ghost, for instance, specializes in piano, flute, and violin. soap, drums, guitar, and piano as well.

everyone is close-knit in the group, and for years colleagues have been witness to ghost and soap’s will-they-won’t-they for years now. it takes quite a bit of time to unfold, but there’s one student in particular that has observed the progression for as long as they’ve been learning piano.

while mostly learning with ghost, there are times that soap has filled in during absences, and there are often times that soap likes to peek his head in when not busy, so this student has become quite familiar with them both.

but being a student, they’re sometimes overlooked when it comes to their conversations, unlike how ghost and soap tiptoe around their colleagues. the student first listens as they discuss going to dinner or to the movies, a tentative step forward into a relationship. then there’s mentions of anniversaries, birthdays, holidays; a shared pet cat, renting a flat together.

and then one lesson, years down the line, after the student has nearly reached the top grade, they notice the ring on ghost’s finger as he teaches a complicated section of their newest piece.

a few months later, talk of wedding invitations and planning. a full year after noticing the ring, two weeks where the student’s lessons are postponed because both ghost and soap are on their honeymoon.

it’s sweet, they think. the gradual falling in love while working at the small music studio, a quiet but profound sort of thing the student has only seen in books and movies.

and of course, when they finally return, the student makes certain to congratulate them.

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe

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fiendishfables · 8 months ago

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Camillo Carmine x Reader

General Headcanons (SFW + NSFW)

warnings: nsfw, mentions of blood, mentions of biting, cursing

words: 1.4k+

a/n: this was a highly requested work, so enjoy and have fun with the little bonus at the end! This is not really an x reader, but it could be read as such, so oh well. Let me know your thoughts on Camillo's character, and/or if you'd like to see more of him in the near future <3

SFW

✧˚ · . Camillo is basically like a big cat

✧˚ · . Tall motherfucker, standing at approximately 8,2

✧˚ · . The guy is very calm, silent, and sneaky all at once. If anything, he would make an excellent spy and has been offered positions before in that line of work

✧˚ · . Very independent; wont work for anybody but himself and is beyond stubborn

✧˚ · . He is a hardass, but underneath his tough, strong front, is an individual who is a giant kid at heart, who is so deeply loyal and giving that it hurts, and who takes all relationships he makes very seriously, as in he would gladly put his life on the line for someone he cares about; questioning his loyalty is the worst you can do

✧˚ · . Favorite colors consist of greys and purples of any shade; it always struck him as having more of an elegant, dancer sort of vibe, and the display of the colors usually help him to relax in times of distress. His whole bedroom is centered around that color palette and it hasn't been changed since he and Camilla have inherited the mansion

✧˚ · . On the subject of Camilla, he likes to annoy her. His real personality can start to be seen the more time he spends around his sister; they behave just like any normal pair of siblings would. The two have had a love hate relationship growing up and it still is that way, even if just a bit more watered down now. The two like to joke and hang around together every now and again when they aren't off busy with their own lives

✧˚ · . What a Carmine lacks in affection, they make up for in loyalty

✧˚ · . If you wanna talk about dancers, he is one. He loves dancing in his spare time and even uses the Carmine manor as a spot to host dancing lessons amongst sinners willing/wanting to learn

✧˚ · . His silvery pointed dancing shoes are like his literal children, and he always goes into a slight panic whenever he can't find them. They provide him with that sense of security, as dancing is a huge part of his life and he could never stand to be without it; they were also a gift from his mother

✧˚ · . Never likes to ask anyone for anything, especially not help. He likes to cover up his needs with smart-ass comments and handsome smirks that most can't stay mad at for too long

✧˚ · . Has been told he has a very punchable face

✧˚ · . His fangs make for a great, sarcastic smile; his face either consists of a frown or that signature smirk. He uses his fangs for a lot of things, including biting people when they get on his nerves

✧˚ · . Can totally play the piano; claims its a very calming and dignified instrument. He doesn't play it often but when he does, its a gift to anyone around to hear

✧˚ · . On the asexuality spectrum, identifying as demisexual and biromantic. It takes him a little longer than the average sinner to develop feelings for someone, let alone sexual feelings

✧˚ · . As stated before, his relationships are one of the most important things in his life and he handles them with great seriousness

✧˚ · . The epitome of that one secretive, mysterious, tall and mysterious stranger everyone wants to be friends with, but are too afraid to approach directly to ask

NSFW

✧˚ · . It's very difficult to get anything verbal out of this man when he's in the process of being intimate with someone, even if they're his s/o

✧˚ · . The most you can expect is some pleasured grunts, maybe some low groans if you're lucky

✧˚ · . It's not that he isn't enjoying whatever is being brought upon him, he is just one to closely guard his feelings and never really express them too vividly; yes that ends up following him into his sex life

✧˚ · . 9 times out of 10 he prefers to give pleasure rather than receive it

✧˚ · . Loves to degrade and use pet names with his partner; sweetheart, doll, slut, and whore tending to be some of his personal favorites to use

✧˚ · . Big on consent. If you are ever not comfortable with anything he proposes or is in the middle of doing to you, then he will stop instantly and get you anything you need. He may seem like an asshat sometimes, but he is a decent person (if that comes as such a shock)

✧˚ · . Into some form of pet play/leashes, no negotiation

✧˚ · . He always likes to be in control and rarely ever is the submissive one during intimacy.

✧˚ · . Will speak Spanish in bed, usually doing so in order to fluster his partner; it often gets him a positive response

✧˚ · . Being blindfolded is a big kink of his. As a dancer, he is used to having to be accustomed to other senses, so when they are heightened after his sight is temporarily taken from him, he will have a ball of a time

✧˚ · . One of his top favorite things is watching his partner ride him. Just the sight of his cock being sheathed inside your body over and over again as he watches you get off on his lap all on your own

✧˚ · . Dirty dancing is something he is much too fond of. The act of getting all worked up from dancing with one another, teasing each other all the while, then getting to fuck his partner into the ground, whispering praises to them about how well they danced with/for him; he is all too eager to teach you more of what he knows about the dancing world

✧˚ · . The little shit is one of the biggest teases you will ever meet. He honestly has a sex drive that's more so on the lower side and does not need sex as often as most sinners seem to

✧˚ · . But, be prepared when he does have the energy to pleasure you, for he is astounding at it.

✧˚ · . Kissing, biting, steamy makeout sessions, eating you out, fucking you raw; he can do it all and excel in the process

✧˚ · . His fangs usually come into play a lot during sex; a huge fan of biting and leaving marks on his partner to let others know that they have already been claimed

✧˚ · . Camillo is one of those demons you'd be lucky to have sex with. It's not even an egotistical thing, he's just not very sex-coded when it comes to relationships or really anything in general. He believes in a true connection with someone first before engaging in any sorts of those activities, hence his sexuality

✧˚ · . Sex with Camillo is always very serious and passionate. He never allows himself to be as vulnerable as he would be right now, so better to cherish it whilst it lasts

✧˚ · . It's almost like he picks one mate for life, then he's done looking, like some species do

✧˚ · . Thinking of it, when he really gets into action and the rare times he wants to have sex, he fucks like a wild animal. He does have his vanilla, gentle side where he will care for you nothing short of a husband, but if he has the chance or some pent up anger to release, you better prepare to go for multiple rounds of very rough sex

✧˚ · . To top things off, he does have a praise kink. It may be hard to pick up on at first, but if you praise him, let him know how good he's making you feel, he's a mess (at least internally). Nothing really gets him going more than knowing he is fulfilling his job as a partner; making you feel good in every aspect that he can. It gives him purpose and that's really all he needs when he's with his s/o

BONUS~

✧˚ · . One of Camillo's wildest fantasies is to have his lover cockwarming him whilst he plays a song for them on his piano. He can imagine struggling to not fumble over the keys, not let his fingers slip, as he feels you clench around him, biting his lip or your shoulder hard enough to draw blood in order to stifle any noises that may find their way past his lips. That vulnerability is something he knowingly holds sacred; you could potentially be the one to coax it out of him.

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mioons · 6 months ago

Text

M𝓞𝓞NLIGHT ROM𝛢NC𝑒 — 月亮代表我的心

crown prince heeseung x fem. reader

listen to this while reading <3 just a silly drabble for hee

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers ♥︎ wc: 1.2k

the voluminous skirt hides away your legs and your bodice gives way for imagination, creating a v line from the base of your neck to right above your chest. the purple fabric tugs onto your body loosely as you sip on a glass of champagne.

your fingers spun the glass around out of boredom. the purple mask adorned with feathers, flower petals and crystals shielded your face from others. it was a masquerade ball after all.

you didn’t even notice someone approaching you until he stood right in front of you. it was a man, royal or not you didn’t know.

he wore a fine cream coloured suit, gold embroidery embedded into the fabric. a white lace ruffled collar hid his neck away, but it made him look even more enchanting. his mask was dark blue, yellow and gold jewels outlining the perimeter.

“miss, are you alone?” he suddenly asked and bent down a little to look you in the eye, trying to see— trying to identify who you were since the mask was blocking all your facial features except your eyes and lips.

you nodded and placed your glass down on a nearby table. “yes, i am alone. why do you ask?” you answered his question and asked him a question. something in his eyes told you that he wasn’t just any guest in the hall. something about him felt expensive, felt royal.

a sly grin formed on his face and he straightened his back, extending his hand towards you before leaning in to whisper in your ear, “care to have this dance with me, love?”

the way he phrased his request made the hairs on your body stand and you shivered just a little. his voice was smooth, it was rich and it lured you in.

“i would love to,” you murmured and placed your hand in his. his other hand snaked around your waist and he pulled you closer to him. “do you know how to dance?” he inquired as he gently pulled you to the centre of the ballroom where everyone else was dancing.

you shook your head, “i took lessons but i didn’t learn much.” he could could only chuckle, the hand on your waist gently and soothingly rubbing your hip to assure you he’d teach you along the way.

“don’t even worry about it, it’s not that difficult, just flow with the music m’kay?” he whispered in your ear. you could feel his breath brush against your ear. it felt nice, oddly nice.

in response, you nodded your head and intertwined your fingers with his own. “just follow my lead,” he smiled and started moving his legs to the rhythm of the classical music.

if you were to be honest, you probably learnt more from this unknown guy than the lessons you had prior. every step he took, you followed, his hand on your waist assured you that you wouldn’t fall as long as you were in his grasp.

one step. two step. three step. and you were dancing.

“you’re a natural y’know?” he chuckled as he spun you around, catching you in his arms. you could only smile at his words, not knowing what to say except a “thank you.”

dancing with him felt like time stood still. the only noise you could hear were the sounds of the piano and violins harmonising and his breathing. you didn’t realise he was so close till you looked up at him.

he noticed you looking up at him and gave you a faint smile, rubbing his thumb against the back of your palm to ease any of your worries.

the night had to come to an end. the music stopped and everyone started to depart from the hall, leaving in their carriages.

you and him however didn’t leave

“do you trust me?” he asked as he gently dragged you out of the hall, opening a glass door and leading you out. you nodded, “yeah, i do.”

he could only give you a big grin as he brought you out to the castle gardens. why was he bringing you there? was he even allowed here?

once he brought you to the garden, he placed his palm on the small of your back, ushering you to enter.

flowers were blooming everywhere, the light from the moon illuminated and made them look even more whimsical. like something out of a fairy tale.

he thought you looked beautiful under moonlight, how the light bounced off your skin and the way the moon reflected in your eye. “why’d you bring me here?” you suddenly asked and turned around to meet his gaze, your skirt twirling in the process.

“no reason , i just thought you would look beautiful next to the flowers,” he explained and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“you think i’m beautiful? you haven’t even seen my face,” you giggled and fiddled with your fingers out of embarrassment. ‘how cute’ he thought.

“i’m sure you’d look just as amazing without the mask.”

there was a pause. it wasn’t awkward— hell one might even say it was far from uncomfortable. it was comforting, like a warm hug from a loved one. odd.

“i’ll take my mask off if you take yours off,” you suggested and placed your hands behind your back, like a cheeky kid up to no good.

he smiled and nodded his head in agreement to your suggestion. “3.. 2.. 1..” and there he took off his mask, revealing himself as the crown prince of the kingdom.

you couldn’t believe your eyes. was it really lee heeseung standing in front of you? you stare at his features, his nose, his cheeks, his eyebrows, his lips— they were beautiful.

heeseung laughed softly before placing a hand on your waist, trying to garner your attention. “your turn now, love.”

you snapped back to reality before chuckling awkwardly and nodding your head. did you really just embarrass yourself in front of the prince?

removing your mask, you held it in your hand and looked up at him. you caught his gaze and you looked back down due to your shyness. “my eyes are up here, pretty,” he said and bent down to your level.

“r-right..” you mumbled and looked back up at him. does he think you’re ugly? hideous? you hope not.

“you’re so beautiful darling,” he whispered before cupping your cheek with one hand. he was fully aware of what he was doing, he wasn’t drunk, he wasn’t doing this in the spur of the moment. he was truly alive in that moment.

you blushed at his compliment. it was as if your hand had its own mind. your hand reached out to rest itself on his shoulder blade. he felt warm, in a cozy way.

time stopped for a moment as you got lost in each others eyes. you didn’t even realise you two got so much closer, close enough that your noses were brushing against each others.

and when his lips met yours, it felt like a wave of emotions came crashing into you. there was so much raw emotion in that kiss, so much love, so much affection. in his embrace is where it felt so right.

on that day you knew for a fact that lee heeseung was just as much as yours as you were his.

a/n: i was watching cinderella and suddenly got this idea 😵‍💫 hope u guys enjoy. also if anyone is wondering what the chinese text means it means “the moon represents my heart” and it’s a song title

@ luvlyhee 2024 thank you for the support <3

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