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sevsdollette · 1 month ago

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quickie at work with trans sevika ;) no established relationship but they've definitely fucked before. coworkers with benefits, yk?

warnings for: smut, making out, clothed sex, breeding kink, creampie, brattaming?

not proofread. MDNI and men go away

silco had been making you run around all morning. there was a shimmer shipment coming in, runners needed to be sent out to sell, and there was a rumor that enforcers would be making rounds later. it was going to be a long day, and you probably weren't going to go home until late at night.

for the first time in hours, you had a moment to catch your breath. you were up in the warehouse office, stacking papers and putting down your pen. your job as silco's bookkeeper was to tame for your taste, but it kept you out of the dangerous chaos. you were smart enough to keep away from the grunt work of silco's trade.

you got to play out your little office fantasy. a big corporate woman up in piltover, bossing around interns and earning big paychecks. the reality of it was your cash was dirty, and your product was laced.

a heavy sigh fell from your chest as you leaned back in your chair and looked out the window. as you stared at the grimey street below, a knock came from the other side of the door.

sevika opened it without a word or further warning. you looked up at her and wrinkled your nose. she was just as pissed about the busy day as you were. your muscled coworker was always meaner when she was stressed. it made long days like this even longer.

you sat up in your seat. "can I help you?"

she was a sight for sore eyes no matter how difficult she was. you liked each other enough to have some hot sex on off days. you never saw yourself settling down with someone like her, and you assumed she never wanted to settle at all. nothing was official, of course. work would get more complicated than it already was.

but she was here for something.

the look in her eyes told you to go over to her, but you wanted to hear her say it. you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your desk and propping your head up. you knew that doing this let her see down the low collar of your shirt.

she approached your desk and leaned down. her calloused hand reached out and took your chin to tilt it up. her large frame loomed over your desk, face close.

she kissed you slowly, reeling you in. her rough lips consumed you all at once. and she was nearly pulling away today draw you up out of your seat.

you grabbed her face, hungry for all of her. she deepened the kiss and, soon, you were crawling over your desk to stand with her. you could have walked around, but that would mean you’d have to stop kissing her. and that just wasn’t an option.

she gripped your hips, holding you firm against her as she pressed you into the desk. she slid her hands down your thighs and up, fingers reaching under your skirt.

she massaged your ass and let you grind on her, her kisses dipping down your jaw to the crook of your neck. you moaned and hooked your arm around her neck, your other hand sliding under the hem of her shirt.

you were practically dying to have her already. with every movement of her hands or hips, you could feel your cunt ache. each heavy sigh that fell from her lips made you wet.

but she was leaning back. her lips dragged up your neck to peck your cheek before she stopped. she focused her tense gray eyes on your face as she stared to let go of you.

"sev..." you sighed, pulling her back. "sev--"

she chuckled at your neediness. "no, baby, i have to go now. they need me at the docks."

"just stay here,” you pleaded. you put your hands on her hips, trying to keep her close to you. “i'm dying with all this shit to do. i need a distraction."

"i've distracted you enough..."

her words and gaze fizzled away as your hand slid down to the front of her pants. you rubbed lightly over her clothed bludge and smirked against her lips. "you're such a brat, you know that?" she growled.

you hummed and smiled, your hot breath making her shiver as you pressed your core into hers. you laughed under your breath as you felt her getting hard though her pants. "what are you gonna do about it?"

she moaned in your ear, face hidden in your neck as you kissed her jaw as nipped at her earlobe. you rubbed your thumb over the jutting tip of her dick trough the fabric of her clothes. you nearly had her knees giving out as you felt the precum stain the front of her pants. but that was a problem for later.

you whispered in her ear. “come on, sev,” you drew out your words, your hand guiding hers back under your skirt to the band of your panties. “it would be so easy to just…”

you helped her grab the edge of your underwear and pull. she got the idea, dragging them down your legs and watching in awe as she got them off of you. the impression of her cock through her pants was practically pulsing with need. she saw the wet cloth of your panties and lost all common sense.

she lifted you up, setting you down on the desk and pushing your skirt up to your hips. she dropped to her knees and drove between your legs.

you cried out, your head tipping back as her tongue dragged between your folds. she needed to get you ready for her dick, her mouth working wonders to get you worked up.

she sucked your clit between her lips and you nearly screamed. you gripped her hair tightly, working your hips against her face. she was ravenous, licking through your folds and to your bud, spitting on your cunt to make sure you were worked up enough.

the sounds she made were filthy. she had no shame, no decency in how she desired you. two minutes ago, she was professional and working. now you were at her mercy.

as her mouth worked on your clit, her fingers slid between your legs to tease the edge of your hole. your tensing thighs and mutters of encouragement led her to dip two fingers inside your dripping hole.

she needed to open you up for her dick. she worked her fingers in, curling them inside of you to hit your g-spot just enough to rile you up. you didn't want her to stop, your hips rolling to match the motion of her fingers as you rubbed your clit against her nose.

but your whimpers and moaning were doing too much to her. just before you could finish, she stood back up, panicked hands grabbing at her belt. she kissed you quickly, letting you taste yourself and her spit, before moaning, “help me, baby—fuck, i want to cum inside you.”

you burned without her. your hands joined hers in undoing her belt and unzipping her pants. she pulled them and her boxers down enough for her erection to spring out. it was intimidating, and she left you no time to think of the stretch it was about to cause.

she grabbed your hips, pulling you to the edge of the desk before lining herself up with your hole. you felt the tip press against your cunt before she thrust in all at once.

you moaned and struggled, your nails digging into her back as she held herself inside of your. your cunt pulsed around her cock, whining from the sheer size of her. you needed to feel every ridge and vein rubbing inside of you, but she wouldn’t move. she held your thoughts, keeping you in place as you whined

“sev,” you sighed, breathless, “sevika, please.”

she huffed in your ear, her hot breath making you shiver. “you act like a brat and i’m gonna punish you like one. you’ll stay here until i say so.”

your head fell in defeat into her shoulder, a faint cry in your throat as all you could do was listen. you were at her mercy, listening to everything she wanted. you just needed her to fuck you.

but it seemed like she couldn’t listen to her own rules. at the sound of your distain and begging, she couldn’t contain herself. she held you close and dragged her hips back slowly. you breathed heavily and focused on every sensation in your core. how she rubbed every inch inside of you, sliding out.

she pulled out just so that her too was still inside. this was almost worse: the waiting. how you weren’t really empty, but it was hardly enough. you made some noise in your throat and encouraged her on, trying to beg but not having the words.

she thrust back in and moaned loudly in your ear. your eyes rolled back as she started to fuck you.

“hmph—!” you moaned, one arm wrapped around her and the other propped up behind you. the two of you positioned yourself in a smooth, easy position that let her decide on a slow, firm pace. you rolled your hips with every thrust, head tipping back so she could kiss the column of your throat.

she humped her dick into you, ravishing in the feeling of your cunt wrapping around her so perfectly. she was lost in the feeling of you, mind dizzy as she got pussy drunk off your cunt. she could still taste you on her lips.

her teeth grazed your neck and stuck to leave a kiss. she bit and sucked your skin, wrapping your legs around her hips and cradling your body against hers.

you tried but failed to keep your strength. you just needed to lie back and let her have her way with you. your arms holding you up gave out and you fell back into your desk, hands landing on hers around your hips as your head tipped back over the edge. you were upside down, the words spinning as she dizzied you and made you senseless. you felt so full, head fuzzy as all you could think about was her dick inside of you.

this new position made everything more intense. she was able to fuck deeper into you, her dick reaching that perfect spot inside of you. you were stretched so deep you could feel her in your lower stomach, splitting you in two. with every thrust, she worked herself closer to her peak. and she wanted you there with her.

she pressed the pad of her thumb over your clit and began to rub in slow, circular motions. the pressure and rotation had you keening and dipping your head back upside down. your thighs tensed and clenched around her torso as everything blurred.

tears grew in your eyes as you muttered stray pleas for her to let you finish. she began to fuck you harder and faster, so much so that your desk was scraping against the floor and your breasts shook with every motion. you were unreachable, everything spinning with hot, white pleasure until you felt her reach the perfect spot on your clit.

with one more solid slam of her hips, you cried out, nails raking down her forearms as you came. you moaned pathetic curses and whines that were lost to the air around you as you felt her finish as well.

she groaned and fell forward, her hand holding her back from falling on top of you as she came inside of you, filling you up.

for a moment, a dose of panic filled you as you realized what she had done. she heavied above you, face dipping to kiss gently on your neck and whisper admirations in your ear. she stayed inside of you, holding your hips close so you didn't move a muscle. you wrapped your arms around her and let her be sweet to you.

she kissed you and tasted your tongue, teeth nipping at your lip just enough to rile you up for a moment. then she pulled back. she rubbed your thighs gently and pulled out, her cock slipping out easily as her cum stayed inside of you.

you felt it dripping out of your pulsing core. it drove you insane to know she left you used and waiting. she got off and was ready to go back to work while you still needed hours of her attention.

"you're gonna have my babies, okay, baby?" she shoved her fingers inside of you, plugging your hole and rubbing her cum around to make sure it stuck. "god, it's gonna kill me to see you walking around here carrying my kid."

your face grew red and hot. "sev..." you were sore and tired from how large she was, and her fingers weren't helping. everything she said made her cunt ache for more of her, but fatigue was catching up to you.

her hot, large figure kept you comfortable and you could've dozed off in her arms right there. you looked up at her with wide eyes. “i don’t want you to go.”

she gave you a pitiful look and pulled her fingers out, making you shudder. she wiped her fingers off on the inside of your thigh and then patted your ass. “i’ll be by to pick you up later, okay, princess? just keep me with you for the rest of the day and i’ll fuck more into you tonight.”

she brushed some hair out of your face and kissed you softly. you were ready to melt, to get on your knees and beg her to stay, but she was leaving.

“i’ll see you later, baby,” she promised, she stepped back to fix her pants, adjust her shirt and walk out. you sat up, pressing your knees together and feeling how her semen moved between your lips and inside of you. you could feel it still, and your hips were sore from taking the girth of her.

but you stood up on shaky legs, finding your panties on the floor and pulling them back on. you shoved your skirt down, adjusting it, and shuffled back around to sit back at your desk.

you had to wait hours until you'd see her again.

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oh my god what did i just do.

HI!!, i'm back. and of course, it's during October lol. i wrote this while procrastinating my midterm essay. don't tell my professor. but it kind of inspired me to write something else, so look forward to (maybe) some royal reader x knight sev. or something of the sort... with um more breeding kink because.. @-@ sorry not sorry.

tag list:

@archangeldyke-all, @cacston, @sevsarm, @sevsbaby @maneskinwh0re

#fanfic #fanfiction #arcane #arcane league of legends #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #smut #sevika fanfic #sevika arcane

461 notes · View notes

redvexillum · 1 month ago

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TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, assistant!reader, established relationship, whipped!vox, romantic!vox, soft!vox, p in v, teasing, couple's spat, vox is a simp for reader, reader is equally a simp for vox, tooth rotting fluff, soft s♡x/lovemaking, love confessions

WORD COUNT: 9.7K~

SPECIAL MENTION: @nyx91 (my wife and fellow VoxTek Server cult member), your request has been heard. This is set in Mandatory Overtime Universe, but it's not necessary to read to enjoy this.

The steady hum of your computer filled the quiet room, accompanied only by the relentless clatter of your fingers against the keyboard. For the last two weeks, this had been your soundtrack–a constant rhythm of work fuelled by the rash decision of your boss. Vox, the “TV-headed idiot” as you had come to call him in your mind recently, had once again made a public promise he had no intention of planning for.

His latest brainchild?

The VPhone 78, with a supposedly revolutionary features that would allow the phone to fly and follow its users like his countless drones buzzing throughout Hell.

Of course, the moment he’d announced this absurd concept during an interview, VoxTek’s stocks had soared by 112%. But now, it was your problem. As his top – well, only – personal assistant with your soul still belonging to you, you were stuck trying to work out how on Earth (or Hell, rather) you’d manage to make this ridiculous idea of his both cost-effective and functional.

You leaned back in your chair, eyes unfocused as numbers swirled around in your mind like tormenting demons. The paperwork was starting to blur together. You sighed heavily, tipping your head back to stare at the ceiling, fingers massaging the bridge of your nose.

“Vox, you idiot,” you muttered under your breath.

Publicly, you were nothing more than his right-hand assistant. But behind closed door…that was a different story. Vox took you on what he called “business dinners,” though they were anything but professional. Somewhere along the way, those dinners had turned into more. One heated night led to countless others, and now, 66 years later, the two of you were still locked in this strange, undefined relationship. A weekly ritual of casual intimacy, wrapped in secrecy and masked by your professional titles.

It had started as a way to blow off steam, and you would never admit to yourself that your feelings for Vox had been anything but carnal. But now, the years had piled up, and you were still tangled up in each other. Your ambition to climb the corporate ladder had gotten complicated; it was messy, with unspoken emotions lurking beneath the surface.

You groaned, still staring at the ceiling when a soft knock at the door broke through your thoughts.

“Come in,” you croaked, your voice hoarse from lack of sleep.

The door creaked open to reveal Papermint, one of Vox’s many errand boys – slender, nervous, and constantly fidgeting. His blue hair and one cyan eye reflected the neon lights of the company, a clear sign that his soul was tethered to Vox’s control. You gave him a tired smile as he shuffled in, looking uncomfortable as always.

“Papermint,” you said, leaning forward, elbows propped on the mess of papers on your desk. “What does he want now?”

Papermint adjusted his thin glasses, looking anywhere but at you. “Well, boss wanted–”

You cut him off with a raised hand. “Let me guess. I’m supposed to put on my VWatch because Vox has something extremely important to tell me, but it’s confidential, so he won’t bother telling you?” You threw in a mocking air quotes around the word “confidential.”

Papermint’s face lit up with relief as he nodded eagerly. “Yeah, that’s exactly it! He’s been on edge…kind of…” he quickly looked around your room, looking for any cameras as Vox always made sure he was watching and listening in everywhere, “you know…” Papermint mumbled, unwilling to take a chance of getting killed for badmouthing the boss.

You snorted. Typical. Vox’s moods were as volatile as Hell’s weather, and apparently, he had been taking it out on his employees. You were the only one left who could handle him, and even that was debatable. Most, if not all, of his staff had their souls bound to his contracts, but not you. You had sighed a regular employment contract, meaning if you wanted to walk out of this building, you could do so without losing a single shred of your soul.

You shuffled the papers on your desk, trying to look busy. “I failed to see how that’s my problem, Papermint.”

His face fell, the colour draining from his cheeks. “Please, Sunshine–”

You narrowed your eyes. “Not my name.”

Papermint blinked. “Oh, sorry! I thought that’s what boss called you.”

“He calls me a lot of things,” you said, rising from your chair. “None of them are relevant.”

Without another word, you strode past Papermint, your steps purposeful as you left your office. The nickname sunshinehas recently irked you, though lately, you noticed your anger toward it had started to wane. Maybe it was the fact that despite everything, your heart still softened every time you thought of his stupid TV head.

You found yourself standing outside Vox’s office door without even realizing how quickly you’d gotten there. You cursed under your breath. You were supposed to be angry at him. Frustrated, really. Instead, warmth was blooming in your chest, softening the hard lines of your frown.

Damn it. Why were you such a softie?

Without knocking, you pushed open the door and entered his office. The long bridge to his desk, surrounded by a dizzying drop into nothingness, stretched before you like a stage, a visual testament to his need for drama. Vox sat in his grand chair, spinning lazily toward you. His grin was wide, but strained.

“Ah, Sunshine!” He greeted, his voice edged with nervousness. “Finally decided to show up after, what, twelve days? But hey, who’s counting?”

You crossed your arms, not dignifying his teasing with a response. Instead, you stared at him, waiting.

Vox stood up from his desk, his sharp grin widening as his arms stretched out for a hug, his usual smoothness faltering as he made his attempt. You stood unmoving, watching his hands hover awkwardly before he dropped them, clearing his throat with forced nonchalance.

“Sunshine, I know I said I’d talk to Val about your department store debacle, but–” Vox’s eyes darted toward the corner of the room, hands making small circles as if searching for the right words. “Val can be a bit…tricky.”

Your jaw tightened. That department store had been your baby – your crown jewel, meant to cement your name in Hell’s ruthless business world. Nine years of gruelling work, settling deals, managing turf wars, negotiating with gangs. Nine years of sacrifice to finally build what was supposed to be yours – with Vox having a mere 25% stake. But that vision had turned into ash and rubble when Valentino decided to “celebrate” your grand opening day with hookers, drugs, and a sleazy entourage. In less than three hours, your hard-earned dream was trashed, half of the building collapsing under the weight of his destructive party.

And Vox’s response? A dismissive, “That’s just Val being Val.”

You crossed your arms tightly across your chest, one hip jutting out in defiance. “Oh, don’t worry about it, boss,” you spat, the word dripping with sarcasm. “It only took me nine years, eight months, and thirteen days, plus half a billion dollars of my own savings, to build that dream. And it was all blow to hell in three hours! But hey–who’s counting?”

The muscles in Vox’s neck twitched as his shoulders hiked higher. You could see the tension in his rigid frame, but it wasn’t enough to quell the rage simmering inside you. Time meant little in Hell. Rebuilding wasn’t a big issue either now that the Princess of Hell put an end to the bi-yearly exterminations. And sure, Vox had reimbursed your expenses and offered to buy you a new property to rebuild, but that wasn’t what you wanted.

What you really wanted was for Vox to finally stand up to Valentino. To sever ties, cut him out of the alliance, and show some backbone for once.

But it was never that simple.

Hell’s power structure was a delicate balance, and the Vees were stronger united. Valentino brought numbers, influence, and raw power to the table, attributes too valuable for Vox to dismiss. And what did you bring?

Competence as his personal assistant.

A warm body to cuddle with when he felt like it.

The room buzzed with tension, both of you fully aware that this issue was one of many knots in your tangled relationship. You inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to let go of some of the anger bubbling beneath your skin. It wasn’t worth a blow-up–not now.

“So, what did you call me up here for, Vox?” You asked, your tone softer than before, though you hated how much his name on your lips seemed to brighten his eyes.

Vox’s smile returned, wider this time, though you could still see the underlying tension in his expression. “Well, it’s our annual company trip, and…” he hesitated, his grin becoming strained as his brows knitted slightly. “It’s mandatory for you to attend!” His tone was too chipper, a veil over the fact that he feared your refusal.

You rolled your eyes, a huff escaping your lips. “You mean the annual company trip where it’s just the two of us, and we end up fucking?”

As you talked, Vox took that time to finally circle his arms around you. You felt your resolve crumble and your anger melting away. You cursed inwardly at how easily your body responded to him, your head naturally finding its place against his shoulder as he swayed you gently in his embrace. It was ridiculous, really – how he could have you melting with just a touch, even after all the frustration, all the fights.

“What?” He laughed nervously, his voice a little higher than usual. “I told you, everyone always cancels last minute! I mean, I do dock their pay, but still–” His words trailed off as his fingers tensed against your body.

The lie was as obvious as the flickering pixels on Vox’s face, and you couldn’t help but giggle. It was the kind of silliness that made your chest light, your laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. Pressing your lips against his shoulder, you tried to muffle the sound, but your body shook with mirth anyway.

Vox sighed softly above you, the rumble of it felt through his chest as he held you tightly. He never made it a secret how much he loved hearing your laughter, the sound always brightening the static on his face and smoothing his sharp edges.

You felt the faint warmth of his screen pressed against the top of your head as he leaned down to place a light kiss there, his grip tightening ever so slightly around you. And at that moment, you knew undoubtedly that you were going to attend his annual company trip, regardless of how mandatory it was. After all, you attended all the previous so-called company trips.

“So, is it tomorrow?” You asked, voice softened with the quiet acceptance of his unspoken plea.

“Tomorrow,” he confirmed, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate line down the centre of your spine. The touch was comforting, intimate, making you sigh in a way that spoke of years of familiarity. His fingers lingered at your lower back as he let out a wistful breath, as if savouring the moment.

“Are you going to let me go?” You teased, your lips quirking into a smile as you glanced up at him. “I still need to figure out how to implement your so-called flying technology onto all the latest VPhones,” you added with a roll of your eyes, knowing you were slipping back into work mode.

“Just make our drones into cellphones and call it a day,” he remarked casually, his tone almost lazy.

You jerked away from him, eyes wide in disbelief. “Excuse me?” You screeched, shifting instantly from playful lover to his professional assistant. “Do tell me how you think that’s remotely possible with all the–“

The words spilled out of you in a sharp, impassioned rant. Vox’s gaze never left yours, but his gentle smile and softness in his eyes betrayed his true thoughts. He wasn’t listening to the words. He was listening to you, and that subtle, almost imperceptible affection made your heart squeeze in ways you tried not to think about.

The next day, you stood outside VoxTek Aquarium, the warm hellish air brushing against your legs as your loose white dress swayed gently with the breeze. The plunging v-neckline gave the soft fabric an elegant flow, but the empty street surrounding the aquarium was unsettling. The eerie silence was in stark contrast to the usual bustle, the crowds that typically lined up for hours on end nowhere to be seen.

As you approached the doors, a small sign with different shades of blue balloons swaying side by side caught your eyes.

The sign read: Our 66th Anniversary, with a giant heart drawn right below it.

A giggle escaped your lips before you could stop it. Vox was nothing if not sentimental in his own peculiar way. Every year, without fail, he celebrated your work anniversary with him, marking the occasion as if it were something sacred. You never fully understood it, but there was something about his dedication to it that made you feel warm inside, giddy even. He made you feel seen–like your time, your presence, mattered in a way no one else had ever made you feel.

As you stepped inside the aquarium, your eyes widened in awe. The large cylindrical tank at the centre dominated the room, a towering presence that rose as tall as a seven-story building. Inside, Vox’s prized hammerhead shark swam lazily, its glowing blue patterns casting an eerie light through the water. The sheer size of it made your stomach flip with unease.

“Sunshine!” Vox’s voice rang out, cutting through the silence.

You turned to see him approaching in navy-blue swim trunks, his grin wide and boyish despite his usual cool exterior. Before you could say a word, he closed the distance between you and capture your lips with his own. The kiss was soft at first, tender, but soon his tongue teased the seam of your lips, asking for entrance.

You hummed appreciatively, parting your mouth and letting him explore. His hips pressed against you, a faint grind that had heat pooling low in your belly as his cock strained against the fabric of his swim trunks.

When he finally pulled away, his breath came in short gasps, his grin widening just slightly. His chest rose and fell, and your eyes drifted downward to the obvious tenting in his trunks. A sultry smile curved your lips as you reached down, fingers grazing his swollen balls through the thin material. A sharp hiss escaped his lips, his body trembling at your touch.

“Want me to take care of you?” You whispered, your breath ghosting over his neck. “A little preview of what’s to come tonight?”

A shudder passed through him, micro-glitches cracking across his face as his control slipped for just a moment. “Yes,” he rasped, before quickly pulling back, his eyes wide. “Wait, no. I mean, yes, I want you, but – no?” His sheepish laugh filled the space between you, his words tripping over themselves in his embarrassment.

Vox cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting his hardened length to lie flat against his stomach, the cyan-blue tip of his cock barely peeking above the waistband of his swim trunks. It was a curious sight – normally, Vox was quick to pull you into bed the moment the mood struck. But today, something about his hesitation had you intrigued. With a cocky grin, you tugged your dress over your head, letting the fabric fall at your feet.

The moment Vox’s gaze locked onto you, a sense of triumph swelled inside. His eyes roamed your figure, darkening with unmistakable hunger. You’d worn his favourite styled swimwear – a scandalous string bikini that left nothing to the imagination. The thin strip of cloth barely covered your front, your ass completely bare, while the triangles barely held your breasts, your nipples perked and straining against the fabric.

You knew exactly what kind of effect this would have on him, especially since one of the triangles sported the VoxTek logo, a personal touch that always drove him wild.

“O-oh wow,” Vox croaked, his voice hoarse with desire. “You look–”

“Well then,” you interrupted with a playful smirk, “shall we get started on the itinerary of our company trip, Mr. Vox?” You emphasized his title with a cheeky grin, pretending to fall into your role as his dutiful assistant. “I was this close to derailing your whole plan with a blowjob. But luckily, you, the ever-dutiful CEO, will keep us on track, right?” You batted your eyelashes.

Vox’s pixels flickered, and a cascade of blue sparks arced down his body, his circuits clearly struggling to keep up with the sight before him. His head jerked slightly to the side as he attempted to regain control, the telltale glitch that always happened when you managed to short-circuit him.

You gave him a moment to compose himself, but the growing bulge in his trunks told you everything you needed to know. He was far from calm, and a mischievous spark lit in your chest. Today was going to be fun – a day of teasing, of pushing him until he finally snapped, losing control the way he always did before bending you over and fucking you raw. The thought alone sent heat pooling low in your belly, your thighs pressing together as your arousal stirred.

Vox cleared his throat again, his hand moving to cover the obvious bulge straining against his swim trunks. “Ri-right,” he stammered, swallowing thickly. “I-I may take you up on that offer…later, if you don’t mind,” he added with a sheepish grin, his words still tripping over themselves. “But first, I want to start our annual event with this.”

He reached into a pocket and pulled out a navy blue velvet box. The sight of it made your breath hitch, but you quickly covered it with a teasing smile.

“Please don’t tell me it’s the latest VWatch,” you joked, shaking your head. Your lips stretched into a wide grin, though your pulse quickened with curiosity. Vox had made a habit of calling these little trips “company events,” a roundabout way of spending the day with you outside of work without having to define your relationship as more than colleagues. Still, you humoured him, always indulging in the fiction he created to spend more time with you…because deep down, you enjoyed these moments too.

You opened the box, expecting something practical or silly, but what you saw instead made you freeze. Inside was a delicate ring, the centrepiece a clear gem with a crackle of blue electricity coursing through it. It shimmered in the low light, casting a faint glow that danced across your skin.

Your fingers trembled as you reached for it. “Wh-what is this?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper, your mind swirling with unspoken thoughts.

Vox rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his usual confidence faltering. “It’s…kind of an inside joke?” He began, his tone uncertain. “You’re practically married to me–well, to your work, which is my company, and everyone already calls you my wife – I mean work wife. So, I figured…why not give my work wife a ring?”

Your head spun as his words sank in. Vox had never been good at hiding his feelings when it came to you. He could sugarcoat it all he wanted, categorize it as a joke, but the truth was clear. This wasn’t just about work anymore. He wanted more, something real, something official. And for someone like him – one of the most powerful Overlords – the implications were monumental.

“Here, let me do the honours,” he whispered, his voice soft, almost reverent. He gently took the ring from your hand and slid it onto your left ring finger with a surprising amount of tenderness. His touch sent a jolt of warmth up your arm, the electricity from the ring almost pulsing in time with your heartbeat.

Your cheeks heated, a rush of emotions making your heart flutter wildly in your chest. You weren’t stupid – you knew exactly what this gesture meant, even if Vox tried to play it off as something less. You’d been at his side for so long, spending nearly every waking moment with him, in and out of work. He’d given you his time, his attention, his affection, and even a miniature shark that now lived in his tank, a shared responsibility between the two of you. In every way that mattered, you had already given him your heart and soul, figuratively speaking.

Yet, there was no official label for what you were. And the thought of finally defining it –finally putting a name to what you had– suddenly felt terrifying.

“It’s pretty,” you mumbled, unsure of what else to say.

Vox’s throat clearing pulled you from your thoughts. You glanced up, drawn by the sight of him lifting his hand, showing off a silver band wrapped snugly around his finger. A thin streak of blue lightening shimmered though it, alive and pulsating like electricity caught in time. The realization hit you harder than expected, like a ripple expanding through your chest.

“You really took this ‘work wife’ thing seriously, huh?” You joked, though your voice came out softer than intended. You wanted to brush it off, make it seem like this was just another playful gesture between the two of you, but the warmth flooding your cheeks betrayed you. The ring on your own finger caught your eye again, the delicate glow of the blue crackling electricity inside it casting soft shadows on your skin. Your thumb traced the cool surface absentmindedly, a silly grin tugging at your lips.

It was beautiful. Far more than a simple token or inside joke, and best of all, the way it sat on your finger felt…right.

'It wouldn’t hurt to wear it a little longer,' you thought, trying to reason with yourself. The soft thrum of excitement beneath your skin told you that you weren’t fooling anyone, least of all yourself.

“Take it as a…a…” Vox’s voice pulled your focus back to him. His eyes flickered around the room, clearly searching for the right words. “A party favour?”

“A party favour?” You repeated, raising an eyebrow at the absurdity of the idea.

“You know, like when you go to a party, and they give guests gifts.” His words hung awkwardly in the air, but there was something endearing about his uncertainty.

Laughter burst from your lips, breaking the tension. The idea that the two of you could continue dancing around the deeper meaning behind this moment was almost too much. Before you could stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your body to his and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. The faint static of his skin sent a pleasant tingle across your lips, making them buzz.

“Thank you for the…party favour,” you teased, arching a brown in amusement.

Vox’s expression shifted, his lips parting as if to say more, something important, but instead, he blurted, “Swimming!”

“Swimming?” You repeated, thrown by the sudden shift.

“Remember?” His hands settled firmly on your hips, warm and steady. “You told me last month that you missed swimming in the ocean, back when you were alive.” His voice softened with a touch of excitement. “So, why not swim with the sharks! They’re remarkable – such sweethearts! You can even ride them if you'd like!” He grinned, twirling you around to face the massive tank behind you, where a shadowy figure swam lazily, its sleek form curving through the water.

Your breath caught in your throat as the shark’s jagged teeth flashed, even with its mouth barely parted. The sheer size of it, the raw power, sent a nervous shiver down your spine. You instinctively pressed your back against Vox’s solid chest, trying to ease your growing apprehension.

“Are you sure they won’t…eat me?” You glanced back at him, voice a little higher than usual. “I mean, don’t you feed them sinners?”

Vox chuckled, the sound rumbling pleasantly through you as he grabbed your hands, guiding you toward a different section of the building. “Oh, doll, don’t worry. I’ve got you,” he promised, his voice low and reassuring. “I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re going to love it. In fact, you’ll be begging me to do this every year.”

His enthusiasm was contagious. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, trying to stifle the giggle that bubbled up. Vox, with his wide-eyed excitement, reminded you of a kid in a candy store, his usual Overlord bravado replaced with something innocent, almost boyish. It was…cute.

Vox was cute in your eyes. The thought warmed you from within, spreading like a gentle heat through your chest.

When he finally opened a door at the far end of the west wing, the familiar scent of salt water filled your nose, and your eyes widened in disbelief. The room was bathed in soft blue light, the walls painted to resemble the sky, with fluffy clouds hovering lazily in each corner. A layer of fine, tan sand stretched across the floor, inviting and warm beneath your feet. You could hear the rhythmic sound of waves crashing from speakers hidden away, and though it was artificial, it tugged something deep within you, a nostalgic ache for the ocean.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, stepping slowly into the room. You kicked off your sandals, your toes sinking into the warm sand. It was soft, like velvet, slipping between your toes in a way that made your heart flutter with joy. “How did you–where did you…?”

“Connections, baby!” Vox’s voice was filled with pride, his grin wide and playful as he watched you marvel at the scene. He stood there, his head tilted slightly upward as if basking in your approval, and it made you want to laugh all over again.

The water before you was crystal clear, so transparent you could see every detail of the sharks circling lazily beneath the surface. Despite their fearsome appearance, they glided through the water with an almost serene grace, their bodies cutting through the waves like shadows.

“Here you go,” Vox’s voice was warm, almost playful, as he stood beside you, handing over a snorkeling set. His rectangular goggles gleamed with neon blue around the edges, clunky and absurd on his face, especially given that they included a space for a nose, which he quite literally didn’t have.

You bit back a laugh as you took the goggles from him. “Do you seriously need goggles?” You asked, snapping the rubber band behind your head as you put yours on. The cool plastic of the mask pressed against your skin, the sensation slightly jarring as it sealed itself. Your fingers traced the strange snorkel setup, noticing the hole at the end of the tube was sealed off, and instead, a tiny device was attached to the mouthpiece.

Vox, apparently catching the confusion in your expression, gestured grandly. “First of all, these goggles look fantastic on me,” he said with a wide grin. “Second, this snorkel is VoxTek’s latest innovation! Oxygen is stored in that tiny little case – no need for bulky tanks!”

You hummed in mild surprise, examining the sleek design. “They why do we need this part?” You asked, pointing to the unnecessary tube extending from the mouthpiece.

With a casual shrug, he replied, “Purely for the aesthetic. People love snapping pictures while they swim with the fishes, and nothing says ‘authentic’ like classic snorkel.”

You laughed, the sound bubbling up easily as Vox took your hand, pulling you closer to the edge of the water. His grin widened, a mischievous spark lighting up in his eyes. “Ready for a great family fun adventures?” He declared, his tone almost too polished.

Bursting into laughter again, you teased, “Vox, are you using one of your pre-recorded lines on me?”

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Ugh, you caught me. I had to rehearse that line like, 800 times. I’m still deleting the voice clips from my main database,” his blue talon clacked against the side of his head.

Your laughter softened into a chuckle, but the smile faded slightly as your gaze shifted toward the water. Two massive sharks glided slowly just beneath the surface. You squeezed Vox’s hand instinctively. “You’re sure I’m not going to end up shark bait, right? I’d really rather not wake up in the Badlands once my body reforms.”

Vox tutted, his grin turning wicked as his right eye flickered with a spiralling hypnotic circles. “You have so little faith,” he purred, his voice a low electric hum. “They wouldn’t dare attack their master – or his guests.” His eyes sparked with electricity, crackling with a dangerous gleam. “They’d regret it very much.”

You raised a brow, lips twitching with amusement. “I thought you liked these guys.”

“I do,” he said, his face shifting back to that cherub-like smile you found oddly endearing. “Now come on, trust me – you won’t regret it!” With a playful tug, he pulled you toward the water’s edge.

As you took a hesitant step closer, you glanced up at him. “Can you even swim? You’re not going to short-circuit on me, are you?”

Vox shot a smug, shit-eating grin, his hand firm on your wrist as he dragged you in. “I’m waterproof, sunshine.” Before you could react, he yanked you into the water.

You hit the surface with a splash, salt water flooding your mouth as you gasped in surprise. The cold shock of it stung your skin, the salty taste lingering on your tongue as you coughed, trying to clear your lungs. “Vox!” You sputtered, your voice cracking as you shivered from the sudden chill. But even in the cold, his arms wrapped around your waist, his body warm and solid against yours as he treaded water for the both of you. Droplets ran down his monitor-like face, glistening in the faint light, and you couldn’t help but think, well, I’ll be damned. He really is waterproof.

“Come on!” Vox’s grin remained unshaken as he gestured toward the snorkel. “Put it on, and I’ll give you the grand tour!”

Rolling your eyes, but unable to resist the infectious energy in his voice, you placed the mouthpiece between your lips. The soft rush of oxygen flowed in, steady and calming. With a surprisingly graceful dive, Vox plunged into the water, still gripping your hand. You followed, the water closing over your head as you descended into the aquarium depths.

True to his word, the sharks swam around you like silent sentinels, their movements smooth and controlled. They didn’t open their jaws, just glided alongside you as if you were one of them. Their skin, slick and smooth, brushed against you now and again, almost like the nudge of a curious cat. Their gills shimmered with a faint blue glow, and their eyes, deep crimson, glinted like rubies of sunken treasures.

Vox, with the grace of a dolphin – albeit a dolphin with a television for a head – gently ran his hand along the hammerhead shark’s back, his fingers trailing against its smooth surface as it swam in slow circles around you. He shot you a grin, his eyes glowing with that familiar red swirl, and tilted his head toward the shark, encouraging you to touch it.

Gulping, you hesitantly reached out. To your surprise, the shark swam closer, allowing your fingers to graze its skin. It felt almost velvety, smooth in a way you didn’t expect. You ran your hand along its side, marvelling at the control Vox had over these creatures – Hell sharks, of all things.

With a quick tug, Vox pulled you against him, his grip firm on your waist. His eyes gleamed red again, and you noticed the same hypnotic swirl reflected in the sharks’ eyes. He was controlling them, his power threading through the water, binding them to his will.

The hammerhead drifted near, and Vox grabbed onto its dorsal fin with one hand, the other keeping you close. As the shark began to swim with purpose, you felt the rush of water against your body, the pressure building as you held on to Vox. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and together, you glided through a series of underwater tubes, each segment revealing different themes – lost treasure, pirate ships, tropical islands.

The aquarium was vast, much larger than you’d imagined, and with every twist and turn, you found yourself more amazed. The sea creatures scattered as you passed, their forms darting away in colourful flashes, leaving trails of bubbles in your wake.

Vox hadn’t been lying. As the thrill of the ride continued, you began to think that you’d want to do this again next year.

Eventually, the shark slowed, the water warming around you. Vox released the shark, and it swam away, its massive body blending into the shadows. He pulled you toward the surface, and as you broke through the water, your eyes widened in astonishment.

The soft glow of aquamarine light bathed the small enclosure, making the water shimmer like liquid gemstones. The rocky cave walls were draped with delicate strings of fairy lights, casting a soft, ethereal glow, like stars twinkling in the midnight sky. It felt secluded, intimate, as though the world outside had vanished, leaving only the two of you in this perfect, private paradise.

“Come here, baby doll,” Vox’s voice was a low murmur, filled with warmth and a tenderness that never failed to make your heart flutter. He began to swim toward the shore, the water rippling gently around him as he moved. The sandy floor beneath sloped gradually, mimicking a beach, and you followed him, shivering from the cool air as the water dripped down from your body.

You removed your goggles and snorkel, setting them aside before wrapping your arms around yourself, trying to preserve whatever warmth you had left. Before you could process the chill, a soft fluffy towel enveloped you, and Vox’s arm circled around your shoulders, pulling you against him. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, a comforting contrast to the cold. Your face nestled into the crook of his neck, breathing in the subtle mix of sea salt and remnants of his sharp cologne. His hand rested gently on the back of your head, holding you close, as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

The sound of the artificial waves lapping at the shore echoed softly in the cave, blending with the quiet rhythm of your heartbeat. Neither of you spoke, content in the silence, your bodies pressed close as you shared this perfect moment. It struck you just how romantic Vox had always been during these company trips. Every year, he found new ways to make you feel cherished, loved in a way that filled your heart with warmth.

You sighed softly, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him tighter. His presence, his warmth, his scent – if all filled you with a deep sense of peace. You breathed him in, the familiar smell wrapping around you like a blanket, and you couldn’t help but smile.

Every year, he never failed to make you feel like the most important person in his world.

“Want me to order you a drink?” Vox whispered, his breaths warm against your scalp.

You nuzzled closer to him, unwilling to break the moment. “Mhm, but I don’t mind staying like this,” you mumbled, your voice soft and content. “S’nice.”

His chest rumbled with a deep chuckle, the sound vibrating through you. Vox had always said he loved your laughter, but you felt the same about his. It was rich, full of life, and it always made you smile.

Reluctantly, he guided you over to a small round wooden table, pulling out a chair for you. You sank into it, the heavy blue towel still wrapped snugly around your shoulders. The scene was almost too picturesque – the shimmering water, the soft glow of the cave lights, the peaceful solitude of this hidden beach. “Are there any workers here?” You asked, your eyes scanning the serene beauty of the space.

Vox smirked as he sat across from you, his monitor face lighting up as he pulled up a browser with a drink menu from Veebucks. “If you count my drones as workers, then yes,” he said with a shrug. “They’re the cheapest labour, after all.”

“You mean free,” you quipped, watching with amusement as he tapped on the screen, ordering yours and his drink from the menu.

“Same thing,” he muttered, his face returning to its usual charming grin.

Silence fell over you again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You soaked in the atmosphere, appreciating the care and thought he’d put into every detail. Vox reached across the table, his thumb brushing tenderly against the top of your hand, side to side in a slow affectionate gesture. “Happy anniversary, my brightest sunshine,” he murmured, his voice soft and sincere, his smile gentle.

Before you could respond, a drone swooped overhead, placing two cups on the table. The rich, nutty aroma of hazelnut and coffee filled the air, and your heart swelled with a sudden, overwhelming warmth. It was the drink you’d been ordering almost every day lately, and you realized he’d been paying attention to even the smallest details about you.

Reaching for the cup, you took a sip, closing your eyes as the familiar taste of chocolate and coffee spread across your tongue. The warmth of the drink seeped into your body, chasing away the last of the cold. You sighed in contentment. Vox took a sip from his own cup, and you couldn’t help but smile, amused still to this day how he managed to drink despite having a TV head.

He scooted his chair closer to yours, and the proximity made your heart flutter. “After this, we could check out some of the restaurants,” Vox suggested, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. “Then we can walk through the different sections of the aquarium and maybe–”

You listened, his voice washing over you like a soothing wave. Everything he planned revolved around spending time together, making sure you both enjoyed each other’s company. As you gazed down at the drink in your hands, your eyes drifted to the delicate ring on your left finger. It suddenly struck you – this wasn’t just any anniversary. It was your 66th work anniversary.

For sixty-six years, he’d celebrated this day with you. Every single year, without fail.

“Vox,” you interrupted softly, placing your cup down. “You know you don’t have to go to all this trouble for me.” A smile tugged at your lips. “Showing this much favouritism for a worker isn’t exactly great for morale – or your image.”

Vox furrowed his brows, genuine confusion crossing his face. “What are you talking about?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

Now it was your turn to be confused. “I mean you don’t have to celebrate my work anniversary every year,” you said matter-of-factory. “Especially when you don’t even acknowledge your other worker’s anniversary.”

Vox blinked once, then twice, before bursting into laughter. The sound was deep and raucous, filling the cave as he threw his head back. His chest shook, and his monitor flickered as he struggled to contain himself. “Oh, sunshine,” he said between laughs, “you thought we're celebrating your work anniversary all this tie?”

In one smooth motion, he grabbed both your wrists, pulling you forward until you straddled his lap. His voice dropped to a low, dark whisper as his hands slid down your waist, pulling you closer. “My love,” he breathed, his eyes glinting with mischief, “I’ve been celebrating the day we first made love – every year.”

Your muscles locked as your mind raced to catch up with his words. The truth hit you like a roaring tidal wave – you had slept with Vox, your boss, just before your contract was set to expire. That night had felt like the end, a one-time indulgence, but here you were, years later, warming his bed at least on a weekly basis.

In hindsight, it wasn’t just your work anniversary you’d been celebrating each year with him. It was something much deeper, something more profound than a mere fling.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you pieced it all together – every company trip, every time you ended up in his bed, his touch was always gentle, reverent, almost as if he were afraid you’d slip away. You had dismissed it as passion, fleeting and temporary. But for Vox, for him…it had been love. He saw it as making love to you.

Slowly, your hand drifted down the side of his head, your new ring clinking softly against the hard surface. Each year, after every quiet, tender night together, Vox always whispered the same words.

He always said…

Vox’s smile softened, his claws grazing the back of your scalp before pulling you close, close enough that your breaths mingled. His voice was barely a whisper, and yet, it was all you could hear. “I love you, my brightest sunshine,” he murmured, before pressing a soft, chaste kiss to your lips.

Your throat tightened, and you cursed the tears stinging the corners of your eyes. Damn it. You hadn’t expected to cry, hadn’t expected to feel this sudden rush of vulnerability. You blinked rapidly, hoping he’d chalk it up to the water from earlier, but when he pulled back, his eyes widened as he saw the tears spill freely.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” Vox’s voice cracked, his panic clear, as though he couldn’t bear to see you hurting.

And at that moment, you realized – it had always been you who assumed he couldn’t love you. That he wouldn’t.

Without thinking, you pressed your forehead against his, your breath dancing with his. Then you kissed him –softly at first, a gentle peck, but the need, the desperation in your chest grew, and the next kiss was deeper.

And the next one, longer.

More urgent.

Every kiss was a wordless apology for doubting him, for not seeing the depth of what had been right in front of you for all these years.

You had always assumed this was nothing but a fleeting affair, a passion that would cool and fade with time. But the way Vox’s breath hitched in between your kisses, the way he groaned in response to your touch – it told you otherwise. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, needing more of you, as if he could never get enough.

“I wanted to –“ he began, voice low and hoarse, but you silenced him with another kiss, swallowing his words.

He managed to gasp out, “��to show you the master suite…I decorated the bed for–”

“Or,” you interrupted with a wicked smile, your voice a soft purr against his lips, “you could let me have a taste now.”

You felt the answering throb of his cock, already hard and pressing insistently against your core, and your grin widened. “Looks like the other half agrees,” you teased, wiping the stray tears with your towel before letting it drop to the floor. Your skin felt feverish, flushed and burning with desire, every nerve alive with the need for him.

“I even wore this,” you whispered, your voice dropping to a sultry murmur as you leaned in, “just for you, today.” Your words elicited another eager throb from his cock, and your breath hitched as the sensation sent shivers down your spine.

“Ah, fuck,” Vox groaned, his hand slipping under the thin fabric of your bikini, fingers finding your hardened nipples. His touch was hot, electric, sending jolts of pleasure through you as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, slow and purposeful. You hissed, arching into him as he ground his clothed, wet, cock against your core, his eyes squeezed shut in pure, unfiltered bliss.

“A taste,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. “You want a taste now?” His breath came quicker as he lifted you effortlessly, laying you across the table in one swift motion. The drink clattered to the floor, the sound distant, irrelevant as his gaze darkened, locked onto you like a predator ready to devour its prey.

Your hips teetered at the edge of the table, legs dangling loosely, toes barely brushing the sandy floor beneath. You heard the slick sound of Vox sliding off his bathing suit, the wet fabric hitting the ground in a damp heap. And then, there he was — his dark, navy shaft, gleaming with a faint blue glow at the tip, standing at full attention.

“Oh, fuck, look at you,” he groaned, voice thick with desire. His hand gripped the base of his cock, a sharp gasp leaving his lips as he slapped the tip against your still-covered clit, sending jolts of pleasure radiating through you. “You know how much I fucking missed you when you didn’t come over last weekend,” he huffed, frustration laced in his voice as he hastily wrapped your legs around his waist. “My hands are nothing compared to yours,” he moaned, his hips lazily rolling against you, teasing, tormenting.

You let out a soft, needy whimper as the swollen head of his cock nudged against your engorged clit. God, the sensation left you aching for more, desperate for the feel of him – bare, hard, and slick – sliding inside you. “More,” you moaned, voice trembling. As your hips shifted, chasing the pleasure that rippled through your body like a tidal wave.

“I know, baby doll, I know,” Vox sighed, his voice deep and strained as his fingers skilfully tugged your bikini top aside. His eyes darkened with lust as he took in the sight of your nipples, stiff and begging for his touch. “Ah, fuck, yeah,” he muttered, and his long sinuous tongue slipped out, lapping eagerly at your left nipple. The broad, wet surface of his tongue dragged across the sensitive peak, nudging it up before it snapped back into place.

A deep moan rumbled from him, long and lewd, as he finally pulled your bottoms free, the cool air kissing your bare skin for a brief moment before his thick, hot shaft pressed against your soaked folds. “Oh fuck, look how wet you are. Is that all for me?” he rasped, dragging the length of his cock through your slick folds, spreading your arousal along your lips as he teased your entrance.

“Vox,” you whimpered, arching your back against the hard surface of the table. The pressure sent a delicious ache through you, but it was nothing compared to the way he lapped at your nipples, his tongue working over them like a man starved, desperate for every taste of you.

With one hand, Vox steadied himself against the table, the weight of his and your body making the wood creak beneath you. The air between you sizzled with heat, your mingled breaths and the soft rhythmic sound of the waves filling the cave like music. His eyes locked onto yours, pupils turning into sharp slits with lust, and the heat of his cock at your entrance made your thighs tremble.

Slowly, agonizingly slow, he pushed the tip of his cock inside you, stretching your entrance, inch by inch. You writhed beneath him, your body instinctively pulling him in deeper, the slick, tight walls of your cunt gripping him greedily.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered, the stretch so deliciously deep that it made your toes curl, your back continued to arch off the table as he sank further inside. His thick cock filled you completely, stretching you open, reclaiming the space that had always been his. You whimpered as he inched closer to your favourite spot, so damn close you could almost feel the sparks waiting to ignite. “More, more,” You whined, the desperation in your voice palpable.

“That’s right, doll,” he whispered, his other hand finding your nipple, now cool from his saliva. He pinched it, sending sharp jolts of pleasure and pain shooting straight to your core. The sensation spiralled through your body, tingling, buzzing, settling deep in your belly as he sank fully into you, his hips flush against yours.

He groaned, low and deep, his cock twitching inside you as he paused, his heavy balls resting against you. He didn’t move, didn’t thrust, just held you there, making sure you felt every inch of him, every throb, every pulse of how hard he was for you.

Your legs trembled as you tried to keep them wrapped around his hips, your body humming with need as his fingers toyed with your nipple, tugging, pulling and twisting. You were both on the edge, the tension taut yet brittle, waiting to snap apart.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but this time, for an entirely different reason. The longer Vox stayed deep inside you, the more you found yourself unravelling, desperate for him to take you completely, to fuck you until you lost all sense of self. His dark chuckle vibrated through the air, low and sinful. “Restless little thing, aren’t you,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement.

Finally – finally – he pulled back, your walls clinging to him, unwilling to let him go. Vox moaned, deep and primal, as he dragged his cock out until just the tip remained inside, then pushed back in slowly, the feel of him parting you making you quiver.

“Oh, god, Vox,” you gasped, your body trembling, arms reaching out for him to come closer to you. You wanted more, needed more, the slow, tantalizing build was driving you mad. Tears blurred your vision, but they weren’t from pain. The pleasure was mounting, and you craved its climax, growing impatient for the rush.

Vox leaned in, allowing your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. His rhythm was steady, deliberate, his hips circling in slow teasing motions. Your own hips moved in sync, grinding against him, showing him how soaked you were, how much you wanted him, how your body screamed for him.

“If you could only see what I see,” he whispered, his voice filled with tender and care. His eyes stayed locked on yours. “If you could only see, sunshine,” he murmured again before pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. His hips pushed harder against you, the friction of his pubic bone rubbing against your sensitive clit, sending sparks through your core.

It was the combination of his sweet words and the way he knew your body, how he understood every secret it kept, that had you completely losing control. Your legs fell open wider, your lips parted, breaths coming out in ragged pants as your eyes silently pleaded for more.

He was hitting that spot inside you, the one that made stars burst behind your eyelids, and you could feel the pressure building deep within you. The cool air had long since dried your bodies, leaving only the heat – the unbearable, searing heat of desire that radiated between you. His chest pressed firmly against yours, your nipples rubbing against his now slick skin, the friction driving you wild.

You could hear his uneven breath, could feel the tension thrumming through his muscles as he held himself back, trying not to lose control. He wanted to make this last, wanted this moment to be special. You could tell how much today meant to him, how different this time was. He wasn’t just fucking you – he was making love to you. And you surrendered to it, letting him take what he needed because you knew there was a different kind of pleasure in giving.

And you knew exactly what he wanted to hear.

“I love you,” you whispered, voice soft but clear. His hips faltered, a shudder running through him, his eyes wide with disbelief as they met yours. He blinked, lips parting as though to say something, but you brought his head down to rest against your forehead, strands of your hair reaching out to him, charged with the static. “I love you,” you repeated, feeling his cock twitched, harder, deeper inside of you. For a moment, you wondered if he could just come from hearing those words.

You didn’t say it often. Those three words. Vox had always said them enough for the both of you.

But now, seeing the joy, the pure ecstasy in his eyes, you thought maybe you should say it more often. He looked so incredibly happy, like your words had unlocked something sacred within him.

“One more time, sunshine,” he trembled, his voice thick with emotion. “Please.” He clutched you tighter, your legs wrapping around him, pulling him closer as your lips ghosted over his, and you whispered it again, letting those three words sink into him, into both of you.

“I love you.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and when they opened again, they were filled with something raw, something powerful. His pace shifted, faster now, his thrusts deeper, more urgent. The table rocked beneath you, the sound of wood creaking barely audible over the wet, rhythmic slap of skin against skin and your voices of ecstasy. His cock plunged in and out of you, filling you, stretching you, the sound of your slick arousal filling the space.

His eyes never left yours as he ravaged you, each thrust more desperate than the last. His balls slapped against you, his breath coming out in hot, ragged bursts, but his focus remained on you. His fingers slid down between your bodies, finding your clit, and your sharp gasp was your only warning before he rubbed them in time with his thrusts. He knew exactly how to touch you, the tempo, the pressure that made you lose your mind.

A coil tightened in your belly, the peak so close your body could only tremble as the pleasure built to an unbearable height. “Oh, fuck,” Vox groaned, his voice low and wrecked. “Fuck, you feel so good. Faster? Slower?” He panted, his skin hot and slick with sweat, his nipples grazing yours with every thrust.

“Ah–mm,” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut. “Keep going like this, Vox, ah–don’t stop,” you pleaded, your walls tightening around him, your body on the edge of release. The wet sound of his cock sliding in and out, the wet friction of his fingers on your clit – it was too much, too intense, and yet exactly what you needed.

Vox’s thrusts grew more deliberate, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through you as your body clenched tightly around him. He groaned deeply, feeling your walls squeeze him, signalling just how close you were to falling over the edge. “That’s right, baby doll,” He panted, his voice raw with need. “That’s right…that’s right.” Every word was punctuated by the rhythmic slap of his hips against you, his fingers flicking over your swollen, oversensitive clit. The sharp sting from his touch melted instantly into a wave of pleasure, your breath hitching, ragged, desperate for him to keep going, to push you that last step.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, the words barely audible as your body quivered beneath him. His cock filled you completely, plunging deep, the friction making your lips fall open as he drove into you again and again. Your muscles tightened, like a drawn bowstring ready to snap, and you pressed your heel into his back, grinding against him.

With a whimper, your head fell back, eyes squeezing shut as that searing, white-hot rush of orgasm hit you like a tidal wave. “Oh, fuck…fuck,” you cried out, your entire body shuddering, pleasure rolling through you in heavy crashing waves. The intensity wracked your senses, and you barely registered the way Vox pried your legs open wider, gripped your ankles as he kept thrusting into you, chasing his own release.

His pace quickened, the table creaking and groaning under the force of his movement. Your gasping breaths and the slick, erotic rhythm of his cock pounding into you was all you could focus on. Vox moaned sharply above you, his head falling back, his hips jerking forward as he reached his peak. His cock pulsed inside you, spilling hot streams of his release, and you could feel every throb and every twitch as he filled you completely.

“Oh…yea, baby,” he panted, his voice thick with pleasure. He slowed his movements, thrusting lazily as he milked every last drop of his release, his hips roiling in slow circles. “Fuck, you take me so well,” he murmured, his breathing heavy as he pushed deep one last time, burying himself to the hilt.

Your legs, trembling from the aftermath of your orgasm, fell limply from his grasp, your body still buzzing with the sensation of him inside you. The hard edge of the table dug into your back, but you didn’t care. Not when he finally leaned forward, bracing his arms on the side of your head, his face hovering just above yours. His breath fanned across your skin as he gave you a relaxed, satisfied grin.

As his cock softened, he slowly slid out of you, and you felt the rush of his release spill out from you, the proof of your shared union dripping onto the tan, hot sand.

“Happy anniversary, love,” Vox murmured, his voice soft, intimate. He reached out, cradling your face in his large hands, his thumb brushing tenderly along your cheek. “To another year together,” his smile was gentle but behind it, there was a flash of something vulnerable, something raw that made your chest tighten.

And then it hit you, all at once.

For Vox, this wasn’t just about sex or a casual fling. He was celebrating something much deeper, something that went beyond the physical.

He was celebrating the fact that, year after year...

You stayed with him.

You chose him.

You were the only one who had ever remained by his side, who had loved him long enough, steadfastly enough, to make him feel... worthy.

What he was truly celebrating was each year that you chose to stay with him, every single time. And you could see it now, in the way his eyes softened, in the way he touched you like you were his lifeline, like you were the one thing that grounded him in this Hell.

And perhaps, that was worth something to celebrate every year.

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

An excerpt from my post when I first announced I was going to do Kinktober/Flufftober:

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arachnoia · 1 year ago

Text

fan favorite | miguel o'hara

in which your little side hobby is being a cam girl, except things get messy when you’re your boss’s fan favorite

pairing- miguel o’hara x fem! reader

tags- nsfw, masterbating, size kink?, afab reader, idk how to make tags ! (perspective also changes from reader and miguel !)

———

“Ohh…Fuck I’m close,” You muttered, playing with your clit as you fingered it more and massaged your tits to the camera.

“Papí, please~” You bit your lip, moaning as much as you could satisfy your viewers. You glanced at the chat and flashed a quick smirk while adjusting your mask that only covered your eyes and nose bridge.

¡M2099 te envio 500 dólares! — “Eres tan bélla, mi hermosa”

You pushed your breasts together and stared at the camera seductively, biting your lip grabbing the nearest sex toy, and teasing your clit with it. “Mmmm fuck…”

Miguel bit his lip as he leaned back in his chair, extending the window to the live stream. He was in his office back in HQ trying to finish some work until he got the notification that you were streaming so he jumped on.

After a random night of feeling sex-deprived, he started searching for different things to jerk of to. Then he found you and he can’t help it. He’s addicted.

He’s addicted to the way you moan ever so breathlessly.

He’s addicted to the way you mutter sweet nothings quietly while almost reaching your high.

He’s even addicted to the way you stare at the camera as if you’re actually staring right at him, begging him to stuff his fat, fucking, hard cock down your tight little pussy. And don’t even get him started on the little spider tattoo you have on the right side of your ribcage.

He liked to think that you got it in honor of Spiderman because he’s Spiderman. The thought of that alone made him want to cum already.

He looked at your arched position and closed in on your soaked pussy, all swollen and red due to you abusing your clit in pleasure.

“Oh fuck, mami…” He started to pump his cock with the same speed you were flicking your clit, almost moaning in unison.

How he would love to have your pretty pink lips around his cock, sucking like your life depended on it.

How he would even live to bend you over and fuck you like the little slut you are for him, marveling over your plump ass.

How he would love to have your tiny hands scratching down his back for balance as he fucks you, small and breathlessly whimpering below him.

Just as he was going to cum, you let out an almost pornographic moan and licked your fingers clean as you winked at the camera.

“I’ll see you next time, hermosos. Besos~!”

He stared at you in awe as you shut off the live stream, still fantasizing about you.

It happened too quick and he was sent back to reality once the office was quiet. He looked down and frowned.

He was still hard.

———

Once you switched off the camera and made sure it was off, you groaned in annoyance, “So fucking annoying.”

You took down the backdrop from your living room, adjusted the curtains and laid down on your bed. You glanced at your watch and Spider suit hanging from your closet and covered your eyes. You felt kind of grateful that the apartment complex allowed you to make the walls soundproof. Ever since moving to Earth -928 and refusing to work for a huge corporation, you have needed the money. You went over to shower and put on some sweats.

You threw yourself on your mattress and grabbed your favorite plush. You started turning on your computer to watch your favorite show, feeling like you were finally alone in your thoughts.

That is until your watch started beeping.

You grabbed your blanket and frantically put your hair in a low ponytail, grabbing your watch to see what happened.

Lyla popped out and waved, “Hi Y/N!”

You couldn’t help but frown at her presence. She’s great but now was obviously not the time to call, “Yes, Lyla?”

“Miguel wanted me to remind you that you’re going to be with Jess and Hobie tomorrow. And don’t be late! Anyways bye!”

You nervously waved, “Bye..?”

You rolled your eyes. Of course, Miguel would bother you this late at night to bitch at you. It was annoying and you honestly didn’t care what he was going to tell you. You were going to try to be early.

———

“Y/L/N! You’re late!”

You winced at Miguel’s stern voice. You woke up late by accident and tried to sneak into his office where you were met with Hobie and Jessica who waved at you.

“Hi, Miguel!” You chirped, waving cheerfully. You wanted to die.

“Morning, Y/N,” Jess smiled.

You went over to her and hugged her gently, “How are they?”

“Well they kicked so far and-“

“Can you not? We have a mission to go on.”

You frowned at Miguel who sneered at you. In all honesty, he’s good-looking and you’d definitely fuck if he gave you the chance. You can see why some girls would like him, but that doesn’t stop him from being a dick.

He always would target you due to your carefree demeanor in contrast to his strict composure.

“Who spat on his breakfast?” Hobie frowned. He sat on top of a huge metal piece that was scattered throughout the space and was playing with a nearby cord.

“I expect every single one of you to follow my lead. Especially a certain someone, Y/L/N.” He narrowed his eyes toward you, which made you glare back.

Again, if he didn’t target you, you’d wanna fuck.

———

“What the fuck?”

You could see why you needed exactly four to handle the anomaly.

As everyone started to attack the anomaly, you started to swing at him full force, using some of your previous fighting experience to knock him down. It wasn’t until it hit back, throwing you across and heading your direction, and threw a sharp piece of metal, cutting the side of your ribcage. You yelled out in pain before you could even start attacking more.

“I fucking hate this,” you groaned and ripped the hole in your suit bigger, exposing your bloodied side a bit more by an inch to let the cut air out.

You felt bad just staying there until Hobie and Miguel apprehended the anomaly while Jess put it in a force shield.

“So incompetent…” Miguel rolled his eyes as he looked at you, “Can I? Or are you going to be a little bitch and-“

“Shut the fuck up.”

You glared at him, who smiled smugly. He was a cocky piece of shit sometimes.

He studied your injured figure, furrowing his eyebrows and squinting at your side to look at it further. He looked like the personification of confusion due to the look on his face.

“Go ahead, O’Hara,” you laid on your other side for him to see.

“Okay…” His usually stern voice had a bit of a crack and you felt like laughing a bit before he cleared his throat, “Lyla, scan her.”

Lyla popped out as her usually cheery self, “Hi Miguel! Hi Y/N! Ooo that does not look good-“

“Lyla.”

“Mkay!”

She let the orange-yellow holographic screen go through you, showing your results in a small screen. “Okay. Considering you just got off a mission, your heart rate is a bit high but get that cut checked.”

“Yeah, sure sure- SHIT!”

You felt completely off guard when you felt Miguel carry you. “It’s not like I could have you fail to walk too. Pendeja.”

Lyla giggled and smiled, “So-”

“Bye, Lyla.”

She rolled her eyes and saluted, disappearing a second later.

You rolled his eyes, peering over at Jess and Hobie who laughed at you. It was fucking embarrassing to be carried by your own boss who thinks you’re incompetent.

“Where are we going?” You breathed out. And before you knew it, you were at the infirmary at HQ, the area completely bare of people. You gasped as he immediately placed you on a cold metal table.

“Where do you think?”

You could slap the smug look off his face. You frowned and looked away. It didn’t help that he loves to make eye contact so every time you talked, you had to look into his ruby red eyes, which killed you inside.

“Take off your suit.”

You whipped your head in his direction and had your mouth agape, “What the fuck did you-“

“Oh shut up. It’s not in that way, I just want to see your cut. Plus it’s probably nothing I haven’t already seen before.”

You didn’t know what to say. His words were glazed with arrogance and it intimidated you more than usual.

You obliged and started stripping off your suit before laying back down. You felt slightly embarrassed since you were practically naked, only left in your bra and panties and it was in front of your boss.

He scanned your body, eyes staying on your ribcage, and pursed his lips. He had a pensive look on his face as he looked at you and sighed, “I’m going to clean your cut.”

Okay.

“Alright…”

You felt tense, literally could be able to cut the tension with a knife, “No mames, you need to be more careful,”

“Yeah, I guess…”

“Can’t have my hermosa hurt.”

You felt your blood run cold, peeking over to look at him and his smug face, “What?”

His face made you feel unsure of what he said. Maybe you misheard. Maybe you were delirious due to the injury. It wasn’t that bad but you did lose some blood.

“What did you just say?”

“Oh, nothing…”

You sighed a bit, shivers going down your spine as his fingertips brushed on your skin, cringing at the sting of the alcohol that was rubbing against your wound.

“Stings?”

“Yeah.”

His fingers danced around a particular spot, caressing it gently, “You have a nice tattoo here.”

“Mhm. Thank you.”

———

To say Miguel was baffled was an understatement.

You couldn’t be?

The annoying Spider he trains? Be the seductive streamer he watched every day?

That couldn’t be.

The tattoo looked almost too similar. It looked almost identical to the one she had. If it was you, he wouldn’t know how to feel.

Even though he targets you, he couldn’t help but feel a bit fond of you. You’re incredibly talented and flexible but you just have to argue back with him.

Your eyes were similar yes, but the thought was eating him up inside. He had to find out.

He can’t recall what he thought when he swung over to your quarters a few blocks away from headquarters in downtown Nueva York, and caught you playing with yourself behind closed doors. Moaning the exact way his favorite streamer would.

Such a whiny submissive voice.

He wanted to open the door, yes, but it would be too sudden. Too…

“Miguel?”

Your voice sounded tired, as if you were barely running a fucking marathon. He could hear your accelerated heartbeat, your small breaths while you spoke. And it made him want to go absolutely feral.

“Yes? Hi.”

He sounded shy, which was in complete contrast to his aggressive attitude.

“Why are you here?”

The entire apartment was dark, only being shined by moonlight from your wide windows overlooking Nueva York.

“Your cut…Is it fine?”

“Yeah…”

You looked up at him, nervously biting your lip, “Why are you here?”

He pursed his lips and ran his fingers through his hair, “I wanted to see how you were. Y’know, so I can know if you can perform well tomorrow…and later in the night.”

It wasn’t until he looked down that and saw you, still gripping the sex toy you had previously used on yourself.

He started walking closer to you slightly, “What do you have there?”

You appeared to get flustered and backed away from him.

“N-Nothing.”

He reached for your arm to see the pink dildo, his eyebrows raising and a smile playing at his lips to your flushed face.

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

The way he looked at you made you even more aroused. Your wistful expression made him hard as you helplessly gazed at him, your features accentuated beautifully by the moonlight.

With that, he kissed you, surprised by you dropping the dildo and kissing him passionately. He caressed your ass while doing so and lifted you up, carrying you to your bedroom.

He laid you on the bed, taking off your clothes and getting rid of his suit at a press of a button. Your expression was full of surprise and that stroked his ego immensely. He began caressing your breasts whilst kissing at your neck, leading down to your stomach and upper thighs. You threw your head back, clawing at his back as he started to flick his tongue against your clit.

“F-Fuck…Miguel!”

He felt you squirm in pleasure as he kept thrusting his tongue, his fangs teasing your folds. He couldn’t help but smile at your aroused nature.

As soon as you were going to cum already, you screamed, scratching at his shoulders, “Please…Miguel!”

He stood up, licking his fingers and smiling, “Eres tan dulce.”

Your eyes went to his his hard cock erected. The view made you whine and bite your lip, “You’re so big! Miguel, what if you don’t fit…”

“Don’t worry, mami. I’ll fit…”

This is what he wanted. And you looked so beautiful.

“Eres tan bélla, mi hermosa…”

And before he was going to thrust into you, finally diving into your wet, tight pussy, he woke up in a cold sweat. He looked over to his bedstand clock, marking it 2:34 in the morning.

He shifted around his sheets and felt his dick hard.

“Fuck…”

masterlist — part two

sol's notes- this was also just a drabble! thank you guys so much on everything and requests are open!!

tags - @ashanomly @obi-mom-kenobi @tojisbabygworl @toaffes

#miguel x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #atsv #atsv x reader #miguel smut #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #sol (not de janeiro)

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running-with-kn1ves · 9 months ago

Note

Can we get part 3 of CEOx reader? That story is so good‼️‼️

A/N: had a lot of reqs for Edira which really surprised me! Here's a short thang for her <3

CW: Toxic forced relationship, power imbalance, burns via coffee, blackmail and possessive behavior.

Synopsis: your boss-slash-lover-slash-blackmailer returns from a business trip acting more off-putting than usual. Comfort angst ensues.

The humdrum of life can drone on quite monotonously, with the same routine and the same budget and the same people always surrounding you. Lucky for you, the moment you started feeling an inkling of typicality, of normalcy in your stressed and starved life, something swung in through the window and began breaking every peace of solitude and calmness you had established. Fate, or otherwise established as Edira-- you're melogomanic, secretly needy and outwardly aloofly intimidating girlfriend-- snatched away the livelihood you once knew as that of the common fool.

It was first her schemes in pretending to play “date”, and then her idea to move in together. You, an office worker with the resolve of a clownfish, were now put into close proximity with her 24/7. From a tense and barking boss at work, to a wordless romantic in her luxury minimalist penthouse, the struggle to keep up with the sudden workload of being her assistant and her stress-relief of a partner was almost too much to manage. Coffee, kisses, shoulder massages, copied papers of last month’s expenditures. The work didn’t end, and if it did, something was wrong.

Today, you had finally gotten a morning alone without the battering Edira suffocating you awake with blonde bed hair and slightly conscious nips at your shoulder. She had been away at a work conference with the heads of smaller company branches. You would have been brought along with, if Edira didn’t fear so much for the collapse of her corporate tower without one of you manding the deck. So you stayed, one night of freedom, one morning of peace.

You expected her to be gone for the rest of the day, coming back mid-afternoon like she had said, returning to the apartment to unpack her small gatherings. However, your opening of her opaque office door this morning left that reality checked.

“Edira?” You choked, holding a half-empty cup of coffee. You swallowed down your surprise, hoping she didn’t hear the small disappointment at the end of your tone.

“Yes?” She sighed, sounding…off. She usually had a wild rant to get off her chest when she was away, every person in the city managing to piss her off or step on her toes.

“I thought you’d be at the apartment.” You shut the door behind you, taking in the mess of paperwork all over her desk. Yikes, she was going to need more than a drink to de-stress her tonight. “Remember, I told you I had things handled here.”

You walked to her office chairs, ones that were hardly ever used unless for soon-to-be-fired employees. Or in your case, to be straddled, or do the straddling in.

You were about to sit, putting your coffee mug down. But Edira rose as soon as the glass cup reached her dark cherrywood desk, pushing past her swiveling chair, brushing hair out of her face as she naturally stomped away. Her heels made a certain muffled thump that you had learned to predict, the kind that you could hear from across the hall and gain a spike in your heart from. She opened her office door with a ripping harshness that made you think she'd start chasing someone down. You swiftly followed after her down the hall to the front of the rows of cubicles her underlings made their homes in.

You were practically jogging to catch up to her, making it all the more startling when she made a sudden stop at where she usually addressed the office team. Your face hit the back of her smooth linen blazer, hot coffee spraying down your arms and onto your chest. Having held your sizzling mug out in front of you to avoid spilling, you didn’t foresee such a violent halt throwing you off balance, the mug falling from your hands to ‘clink clink’ onto the rug.

“Please don’t break---” You whispered before it had dropped, missing the flying coffee stinging your chest and fingers. Cleaning up glass off the office rug would be an experience of shame you didn't want to face. Your mind worried about another one of Edira’s chastisements for this mistake, now that her sour mood was deepened more than usual.

The commotion and noise of your spill stopped Edira in her stomping tracks, turning to look back at you for the first time. She saw your baby blue blouse doused in brown, your fingers shaking as you bent down to pick up the empty mug.

You started to feel the burning, like ant bites covering everywhere but weren’t able to be rubbed off. You tried to stop the stinging on your fingers by rubbing it against your pants, but your chest was burning hot.

“What did you do?” Edira asked, the room going silent. Your coworkers winced at the sight of you, the others holding their breaths with wide eyes and wondering what the Queen of Chaos was going to yell at you for now. As if they weren’t all held to ridiculous standards, hers for you were impossibly high, and it showed in more places than just your shared cold penthouse.

“Just spilled…” You mumbled, wondering how you were ever going to get this dark stain out of the polyester covering the floor. It was already drying, not much stickier than the rest of you. You stayed on the ground, trying to rub it out with your sleeve. It was getting cold and fast; you didn’t have one of those wet vacuums, paper towels wouldn’t soak up all that had been embellished into the rug by now. Were you going to spend another night in the office? Paperwork, coffee-- your only friends, and this spilled disaster the only thing you’d see until the sun. The silent creaks of swivel chairs and a dropped pencil didn’t distract from the eyes on you, Edira still looming over as she watched your sleeves turn a dirty brown. “Won’t come out…”

The tears came before you could stop them, mouth forming a permanent frown as your nose scrunched. ‘Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry--’

“Get up.” Edira was down next to you, a knee and a heel blocking your view as she held her hand out to you. She didn’t sound pissed, like before. Or even more so like you had expected because of this fiasco.

“But the rug--”

“I’m not going to let you stay huddled on this floor..-- what are you looking at, get back to work!”

You felt her manicured fingers place onto your shoulder, the other hand jabbing a finger at one of her underlings.

You did as she said, looking at the spill as your knees quaked to get up.

“You’re a mess, look at your neck,” She turned your ashamed head, your eyes never leaving the floor. “This might be worth a hospital trip.” She mumbled, sounding more caring than you had ever heard her once before.

Man. your first night alone, first morning of peace, and you managed to make a fool of yourself. Edira pulled your elbow, keeping you close as you slowly walked with her back to her office. The trickle of keyboard typing came back as natural as birds singing at dawn, a phone ringing with desperate need as someone came walking by you.

You kept your eyes down; the burning on your collar and fingers now a buzzing numbness. Edira opened the opaque door with her name in golden, ushering you inside with a firm hand on your back. You dragged your feet coming in, wondering if maybe now you could cry.

Edira shut the door as soon as you were far enough in, barely missing you by a hair.

“Guess this is what happens when I'm gone for too long, hm. You turn into jello, unable to hold a cup?” She sighed, having to pull your arm to shove you next to one of the chairs in front of her desk.

“..Sorry…” You mumbled, but you couldn’t really care less, numbing yourself to the beratement that was only a mere few seconds away.

That feeling to cry subsided, but a heavy weight filled your chest, and now you just wanted the day to be over. But it was only 9:55, an hour not yet having even gone by. How were you going to sit here like this? If Edira had any ounce of the “love” she swore to the media she had for you, or even an inch of sympathy, maybe she’d spare you the echoing shouts your coworkers often heard for mistakes like this.

But she ignored your sad apology.

“Here, let's get you cleaned up,” She murmured to you, like a wild beast with her hands out in front of her. She slowly placed them on your shoulders, making you sit on the edge of her desk. “Get out of these dirty clothes; at least this is an excuse to see your body after a day of solitude. Only had scruffy faces and wrinkles to look at lately.” She tried to joke, scoffing at her own words as she watched you frown.

She was more silent than you had expected, angry aura not seeping out of her like when she usually attempted to hide it.

“...Aren’t you gonna get mad?” You fiddled with your dirty shirt hem, your ironed collar falling off to your shoulders as the buttons Edira undid came to an end; with the last piece she unbuttoned, you were practically naked --save for your pants-- in her office.

The only thing that could make this day worse is if someone walked in.

“Please don’t wait for my sake, I don't think i’ll be able to take it later.”

You just wanted to hear her complain, hear her say how much of a fuckup you were and then have her avoid talking to you for the rest of the day.

“I’m not that mad..” She said, a warm, white washcloth rubbing at your forearm. When did she get that? While you were moping?

The flesh of your wounds was darker, stinging each time the rough cloth rubbed against it. “It was an accident. Besides, it was probably my fault.”

Wait. Did she really just say that?

You wanted her to say it again, to finish it off even with an “i’m sorry I made your life this way,” but anything of that sort was not even close to being on the table.

You hesitantly kept your accusatory thoughts at bay. “Why do you say that?”

Edira sighed, turning over your half-clean arms. “Because, I was being a bitch. acting all pissed off and making you walk on your tippy toes around me. If you haven’t figured it out already, the meeting in Portland didn’t go well. At all.”

Wow. Did she really call herself a bitch? You knew today was not going like how you expected, but this was a different kind of a surprise.

“I don’t feel bad about you not calling me at all last night, though. You know better than that.”

You felt her lean in close to your ear, breasts pulled tight in her office shirt that was pressed against you.

“Gonna have to make it up to me tonight…. I missed that pretty little mouth of yours more than I thought I would.”

You looked down at her, Edira’s face lower than yours and dangerously close to your naked, burned chest. Through blonde lashes she looked at you, tongue at the corner of her mouth.

“Don’t say that, unless you mean it. I’m just a ploy to you.” You said bitterly.

Her pinkish tongue came to perk between soft lips, devilishly teasing the hot spot on your skin. You winced a tad when she poked it with her tongue, only to run it up the coffee-covered spot to your shoulder.

“What do I have to do to make you believe it, pet?”

One hand pressed into your thigh with the rag, the other holding your neck as she cleaned you.

A strong ‘hmph’ left her ajar lips, French tips undoing the top of her blouse.

“What are you doing?” putting a hand to her collar you looked at her, bewildered.

“What? We don't have the floor meeting for another hour..” she undid the top buttons despite your hand on her breast, feeling the lacey bra underneath. “Never taken you in my office before.. sounds like fun.”

“But, wait, my--ive got like, first degree burns--” You tried to push your knees together, keeping her at a distance as you sat on the dark desk. It was surprisingly clean, a neat stack of papers on the opposite end with her laptop sitting perfectly on top; this wasn't how it looked when you first got in here. “Don't tell me you were planning this.”

Your boss's hands entrapped your sides, her knee coming up against the desk. She was cornering you, making you scoot farther onto the cherrywood with a vicious look In her eyes.

“You know me, I'll be as gentle… as I can, sweetling.” Her fine teeth nipped at your ear, running past it to press soft kisses to your hot skin. She ran a hand down your bare back, sending prickled shivers just to set you on edge.

“Just stay quiet, baby. Can't let them hear you,” she tiptoed delicate fingers down to your navel, past your belly button to your lower abdomen. “unless you want them to.”

You shoved at her for a moment, Scooting directly down the desk to escape her; Edira merely stared back through her dark, deep eyes. With an anticipating lick of her upper lip, she pounced.

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fairyhaos · 1 year ago

Text

how seventeen act with their lawyer s/o

requested by anon ^^

masterlist

seungcheol, joshua, wonwoo, minghao

sometimes, he comes home from work and he's exhausted because it's 3 in the morning and he's had dance practice for the past 5 hours but you're still up, sitting at the dining table with your laptop and notes spread around you. and he may be tired, but he pulls up a chair next to you and says he'll help with whatever you need. you'll push him away, softly telling him to go to bed, but he shakes his head, puts on his glasses and leans over your laptop to look at what you're researching this time. after all, he's never really too tired for you, and he knows how draining your cases can be. he's aware of client confidentiality, but he tells you that you can vent to him whenever you want, runs his fingers through your hair as you lay in his lap and rant vaguely about how frustrating your newest case is, and smiles and kisses your nose and tells you he has the greatest faith in you, and if you need him, he'll always be right by your side

jeonghan, mingyu, seungkwan, chan

the Most proud in the entire world, like. this man never shuts up about it. the day you pass the bar exam (with flying colours, might he add), it's all he talks about for a solid two weeks after, somehow managing to bring it up in every conversation he has with anyone. "oh you're drinking water, vernon? well guess what, my LAWYER s/o who's a LAWYER also drinks water. did i mention they're a LAWYER?". is bouncing about with the biggest, proudest grin on his face. sends you off to your first day at work as a Whole Actual Lawyer like a mother would send their child off to their first day at school. clucks over you and fussed over your clothes and presses one last kiss to your head before beaming widely and waving you off, and he swears he's never been prouder

junhui, hoshi, woozi, dokyeom, vernon

simply… fascinated. he sometimes asks if you can explain what you do to him, and you've told him time and time again that you take part in corporate law so everything is really fucking boring, but he just shakes his head and smiles and says he wants to hear it anyway. his eyes might glaze over as you're explaining ADRs to him but he still thinks you're so, so incredible for doing something like this. tries to do his own casual studying of law, purely so he can try and understand what stuff you're doing this time, throwing you random law questions across the dining table while you're having dinner together. he's the sweetest about it, and even when he's busy he makes sure to text you when you're at work, sending you off with a kiss when you have a trial coming up, giving you massages when you're at your most stressed, and just being the most supportive bf ever

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mavens-confessional · 5 months ago

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Private School Confession… this might trigger some, might also make you cum…idk .., it’s a long read so buckle up

The same year that my step-brother did those things to me (see previous post), I went back school and found that my teacher was one of the nuns who had also taught me in elementary school. I was now 14 and in 9th grade. This nun always took an interest in me and I was teachers pet when she taught me as a child. She seemed delighted to have me in her class and commented about what a pretty young lass I was turning out to be. She was Irish, as most of the nuns were at this school.

One day, a boy in my class took me behind a building at recess and tried to French kiss me. I was so nervous, but I let him kiss me on the lips, but he pulled me closer and tried to put his tongue in my mouth and I literally ran away from him with my heart beating a mile a minute. Well, it was all over school in about 20 minutes. I was so embarrassed and one of the boys called me a tease.

The next day at lunch, Sister Margaret called me and asked me to come to her office. I was a straight A student and never got into any trouble, but I knew it was about the incident the day before.

She had me sitting in front of her desk, and she looked at me and asked “Did you kiss that boy yesterday?” My face was burning with shame. Because we were taught that only “bad girls” did things with boys. I looked down and said “Yes, Sr Margaret - but only a little, and then I ran away”. She came and stood in front of me and said “Now you know Maven, that was sinful. You are a good girl, and God wants you to be pure.” I nodded and felt tears welling up. She grabbed my chin and made me look at her and said “Did you let him touch you?” “What? I., um.. no Sister”

“Well, that’s a good lass, but I think we need to make sure the sin is gone from you”. I was petrified because our school still used corporal punishment. I knew I was going to be spanked and that had never happened in all my years going to this school. I couldn’t help crying. I felt so shamed.

“Stand up” she said. I did as I was told. She sat in the chair I had been in. “Now, I’m doing this for your own good, and I want to teach you how to cleanse your soul, so God will love you, and you’ll continue to be a good girl. If you learn your lesson, you’ll continue to be my favorite student and we will forget about this whole incident. Is that understood?” “Yes Sister”.

“Now, be a good girl and bend over my lap.” I thought this was odd because they usually made the boys bend over the desk and used the paddle. But I thought maybe I’m a girl and she will go easy on me. I laid across her lap. She told me to hold on to the chair legs. I did as told.

Next, she lifted up my plaid skirt. I was wearing just white cotton panties. She put her hands on my little ass and asked:

“Maven - did that boy touch you here?” “ No Sister!” “That’s a good girl,” she said, while she was massaging my right buttock. She suddenly spanked me over the panties. It wasn’t very hard, but I felt very strange because her other hand was grasping my thigh, very high up and close to my groin. I felt myself getting hot all over. She spanked me again and this time it was harder. “Maven, did you like it when that boy kissed you? Tell the truth.” I was crying freely now, because the spanking was so degrading, “um..,I…I did, but I was scared because I know it’s sinful to…to..” I stuttered. “It’s sinful to what?” She asked, while she rubbed her hand around on my buttocks. “It’s sinful to be lustful” My voice cracked. I felt so hot and embarrassed, and….my heart was racing. Her other hand suddenly cupped my crotch - I gasped. “Yes Maven - lust is a sin! Did you let him touch you here in your private parts? Don’t lie - God knows if you are lying!”

“No no, he didn’t Sister - I swear!”

I was panicking. She was still cupping my crotch and I knew how warm it felt because my whole body was burning up. She removed her hand from my buttock and began to stroke my hair, and pet my pussy with her other hand. I was breathing so hard, my head felt like it would explode hanging down over her lap. I was getting aroused and I didn’t know what to do.

“Now Maven, why do you feel so warm down here?” She was stroking me through my panties and I could not help it. I was aroused. “I..I don’t know Sister…please..” I felt so humiliated. She moved my panties and touched my little virgin pussy with my peach fuzz pubic hairs barely growing… I was in complete shock. I felt so helpless and I was mortified that she was looking at and touching my private parts! “Maven - I think you have lustful thoughts. And how to we repent from lustful thoughts?” She was actively stroking my clit now and I was getting hotter and wet, and I was paralyzed with fear? Pleasure? She held my prone body with her sturdy arms and I knew better than to squirm. “We confess Sister,” I said through a stream of tears. “Yes my good lass - we confess. Now tell me the truth - does this feel good” “Yes, Sister,” I stuttered with burning shame. “Do you want to be my good girl? And keep being teachers pet?” “Yes…Yes Sister”. I whimpered, as I succumbed to how good it felt to have someone else touch me. “God willing, I will get this lust out of you - and you will be forgiven. Do you understand?” “Yes Sister!” I cried. I didn’t understand, but I was too freaked out to know what was happening. She pulled my panties down and they fell to my ankles, falling onto my saddle Oxford shoes and my lacy socks. She spread my legs wider and continued to rub my clit. “Do you ever touch yourself like this when you’re alone at night Maven?” “Yes,” I sobbed. She spanked me “and do you bring yourself to orgasm?” I nodded, too ashamed to answer and crying uncontrollably. “You know this is a sin! Bad girl!” She spanked me while rubbing my clit faster. I was so wet and I started to moan and buck my hips onto her lap. I couldn’t help it. She felt the wetness and spanked me again. “That’s a good girl. Come on Maven - God is watching. Show him the lustful little whore you really are and he will forgive you.” I was so confused and so aroused l. No one but my mother had ever seen my vagina. Not even during PE class, not even my best friends. But she kept rubbing my little mound and knew exactly what rhythm was making me wet…and I couldn’t believe Sister Margaret was doing this to me. And my God - she was about to make me cum. She put her finger inside my tight little cunt and continued to rub my clit with her thumb - I bucked and moved my hips like a wild animal. I was feral in my need to climax and make her happy. She was really finger fucking me now - and I felt an inevitable orgasm building. “Oh My God!” I exploded on Sister Margaret’s finger and I writhed with waves of pleasure like I’d never had before. It was the most intense orgasm of my young life and I was still a virgin. I was panting and sweating and crying all at the same time. She pulled her finger from my cunt and turned me over. She held me like a child - and then she put her fingers in my mouth with all my wetness on them. She says “Taste your lustful sin! Clean my fingers and cleanse your dirty whore soul in front of me and God!” I sucked on her fingers and tasted my sweet and tart taste. She smiled and said “Now that’s my good lass Maven. You are now purified under God. You are forgiven.” She gave me a hug and patted my pussy which gave me little convulsions of pleasure. I didn’t want to leave her arms. She wasn’t even pretty but I didn’t care. She did something to me that made me want to please her. She stood me up and told me to put my panties on. I was in a daze, and did as I was told. I stood there in my wet sweaty white panties. My mouth tasting of my pussy. “Now go enjoy recess - and I’ll be watching you. If I see or think that you are being lustful, you will come back here and be cleansed whenever I think it’s necessary - do you understand?” “Yes Sister” “And this is private. This is only between you and God - and I am his intermediary - Do you understand?” “Yes Sister” She took my face in her hands and kissed my forehead and said “You were always my favorite lass. I will make sure you continue to be a very good girl!” And then she steered me out of her office.

I still can’t believe this happened to me, But this was the beginning of a four year education for me.

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calypso707 · 1 year ago

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Carlos Oliveira x Fem!Reader : Sweet dreams.

Intro (fluff kinda stuff): You and Carlos are the last survivors of Raccoon City, and after the terrible events you stayed in touch. In fact, you often meet up with the intention of investigating Umbrella in order to bring them down. It was just another night out until…

The events in Raccoon City had been very tough, and even though she tried to pretend it was all behind her, it wasn't. She couldn't get back to a normal life and put it behind her. The events had left physical and psychological scars; how could she forget all the horrors she had seen? While she was away on a mission for several days, far from her hometown in the Midwest of the United States, she had to return in a hurry. As a detective with the Raccoon City police, she had been called back to help out, but what she found was horror and bloodshed. Her family had succumbed to the spread of the virus, there was nothing left, no memories, no attachments, no home. Nothing.

She was one of the last survivors, a miracle she thought, and she couldn't understand how she had managed to survive all that shit. She had been rescued by a certain Carlos Oliveira, a former caporal of the UBCS, a private military faction belonging to the Umbrella Corporation, specialising in rescue in epidemic environments. He was accompanied by another survivor, Jill Valentine, a former member of S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team. She knew her briefly, as her unit was under the jurisdiction of the Raccoon City Police Department.

They had found help in Washington D.C. after the bombing in Raccoon City, were taken in by a rescue team and had to undergo all sorts of tests to make sure they weren't contaminated. Just routine. In the exchange she had with Jill after all this, she confessed to her that the Umbrella Corporation was behind it all, but on the news, nothing, everything had been covered up. While Jill, once she was in condition, left on a mission in the depths of Russia, Carlos had lost his job at the UBCS, which had been completely eradicated in Raccoon City, but he was determined to put an end to Umbrella.

She had kept in touch with them, Jill with difficulty following her missions, but Carlos and she saw each other regularly. The young woman had become a detective with the DC police. However, she remained determined to uncover the actions of Umbrella Corporation, so they worked together, Carlos passing on everything he knew about Umbrella.

The young woman was sitting in front of her computer, researching, and writing down everything she could think of that might be of interest. She was determined to make this organisation that had taken everything from her pay. She took off her glasses to massage her eyes, her hair carelessly tied up in a low bun, tiredness beginning to get to her.

"How long have you been on it?" asked Carlos, sitting next to her with a box of chinese food in his hands.

The young woman's eyes fell on the clock in the bottom right-hand corner of her screen, which read 1.12am. "I've lost count of the hours. It's crazy, they've managed to erase everything about what happened back there..."

"Does your boss know what you do outside of work hours?" questioned the former UBCS member before taking a bite of fried noodles.

"Are you kidding me? I'll get fired," she sank into the back of her chair, chewing on the right side of her glasses.

"Okay. Well, don't be mad, doll, but I'm beat. I'm going to bed, have something to eat and don't forget to close the door when you leave”

The young woman nodded and watched Carlos put the box of noodles on the desk before placing a kiss on the top of her head, she smiled. She then watched him going into the room at the back, which happened to be his bedroom. For several weeks now, they had been meeting regularly to put together everything they knew so that they could produce an ironclad report that could harm Umbrella if it became public. An ambiguity had gradually built up between them, without anything ever happening. Yet she enjoyed his company, in fact, it reassured her and kept her panic attacks at bay. She grabbed the box of noodles and took a big bite before putting her glasses back on and going back to work.

Then an hour passed and another, and her gaze locked on the time 3:12am. It was time to go home, luckily, she didn't live far away. She was saving her documents on her computer and just as she was about to switch it off, a noise drew her attention: it was coming from Carlos's room. She looked over her shoulder, waiting a few seconds to see if it happened again, and it did. She thought she heard his voice. She slowly got up from her chair and approached the room, the curtains poorly closed and the moonlight allowing her to scan the room. Carlos seemed to be asleep, shirtless, the sheet laid carelessly over his waist, though she could guess that he was completely naked underneath. Shit, the view was quite nice and he was bloody well built. She watched his torso rise at a rather rapid and irregular pace, her gaze then passing over the man's face. He was probably having a nightmare; he was agitated and mumbling completely incomprehensible things. She entered the room and slowly walked around the bed to get close to Carlos's head. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and neck. She brought her hand up to his face, hesitant at first, and then leaned over, brushing his cheek with her fingertips: "Carlos? Wake up.."

Before she knew what was happening, she found herself crushed on the mattress, Carlos leaning over her, pinning her wrist next to her head. She looked at him, in surprise, and saw that the man took a long time to understand what was happening and where he was, yet he didn't move. He looked at her, confused, struggling to regain his composure: "Y/N?"

"Sorry, I... You looked like you were having a nightmare, I didn't mean to frighten you" she stammered.

"Shit, sorry about that, it's been happening a lot lately" he said in a sleepy voice.

Now that he was awake, she thought he was going to release her, but no, he didn't move and their proximity made her lose more and more of her composure. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and she was glad that it was dark enough in the room to hide the pink that was spreading to her cheeks. Carlos remained silent but allowed his gaze to run over the young woman's body. There she was, so beautiful, her eyes shining with a strange gleam, her loose hair scattered over the sheets, she had got rid of her glasses which she only used when she was working on her computer. Her lips were parted and her T-shirt was slightly up, revealing her lower stomach. Fuck and those shorts..., Carlos thought, remembering that he was naked under the thin sheet. The young woman cleared her throat to regain composure, trying to sit up straight: "I... I'm going to let you sleep, I'm gonna go"

"No, stay," said Carlos.

The young woman looked at him, his request sounding like a complaint. He was looking at her with pleading eyes, the kinda look that could melt her heart. How could she tell him no? After all, that was all she hoped for, to get closer to him. Just as she was about to reply, she noticed that Carlos closed the distance between them, and she could feel his warm breath against her skin. Burning her. It wasn't long before he starts kissing her, giving her the wildest, languorous kiss, his hand moving up her wrist to intertwine his fingers with hers. Their exchanges intensified, their mouths parting to meet again, the kisses becoming more and more intense. As she nestled her hand in the former agent's black hair, he slipped his other hand under her T-shirt, moving it up towards her chest. He broke the kiss to kiss her jaw line, then her neck. The young woman bit her lower lip, the desire that was building inside her close to consuming her. She heard Carlos growl against her skin as she intertwined her fingers with his locks of hair: "Thanks for waking me up, I like the way this dream is turning out, sweetheart".

#resident evil #oneshot #resident evil remake #carlos oliveira #resident evil 3 #re3 remake #re3make #carlos oliveria x reader #carlos x reader #resident evil fanfiction #re3 carlos

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herespaaa · 10 months ago

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Professional Event Massage Services at HereSpa | Chair Massage for Events

Experience the best in mobile chair massage for corporate events by skilled female providers at HereSpa. Discover top-notch event massage services ensuring relaxation and rejuvenation for your corporate gatherings.

#Chair Massage For Events #Chair Massage For Events (Female Provider)#Event Massage Services #Mobile Chair Massage #Corporate Event Massage

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kneadmassagenyc · 2 years ago

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What is the cost of a corporate chair massage?

The demand for chair massage has increased greatly. This is because of the benefit it provides to the people. The companies are now considering using the same in the office to help employees improve efficiency. They have a permanent therapist available in the office to ensure the employees can take the massage as and when required. Also, you can choose to schedule the therapy for yourself at home.

But in this case, you will be the one paying for the massage.

When talking about the cost of the service will vary based on different factors. For instance, if the therapist works permanently, the cost can be a bit high. However, if you wish to schedule the corporate chair massage for yourself, then the cost will be around $100 to $200. Remember, a cost comparison will be helpful for you to find someone who can provide the desired service but at an affordable rate. You should not hesitate to enquire about the experience as this is the key to getting the best services possible now. If you wish to overcome the complications and have a relaxing time with the massage, then you can consider contacting Knead NYC to get help. They have got the best therapist available to them. They understand different types of massage techniques and can provide you get relaxation. Besides, the cost of their service is affordable, which makes it absolutely worth consulting them for support. Connect with them to enquire about the essential information. Visit http://kneadnyc.com/ to know more.

#Corporate Chair Massage #chair massage nyc

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soap-lady · 10 months ago

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A Wild Chapter Appears!

Hey everyone!

So I used to post a chapter every month of Worthy Opponent but eh...I kinda fell in with a bad crowd or a new fandom. I'll finish this story I promise but I don't have the same motivation I used to.

@arylace Is the best co-writer I could ask for and y'all have her to thank for this being finished.

@fantasiame, @g-arya, @lavenderjunes, @charlietheepic7, @ahenix, @delectablycoolscientist, @kaseykay17, @vio-march-0327, @mewwitch, @vixen-uchiha, @coolspidermanmusicflower, @lady-bee-fechin, @raeuberprinzessin, @symwinter, @frieddonutsweets, @seraphkitty, @friendsofthefairies, @nickristus-dreamer, @khneltea, @jumpingjoy82, @fan-written, @woe-is-me0,@corporeal-terrestrial, @queenmjean, @theymakeupfairies, @dorkus-minimus, @idk-j-go-with-it

Worthy Opponent 26

All of the crucial “will you go to the ball with me?” scenes were filmed and the crew was galvanized into action. Notre Dame Les Oiseaux was about to start classes again so they couldn’t use the theater. So instead they decided to create their own ballroom on a soundstage.

The set dressers and designers went all out, taking inspiration from an actual castle ballroom and adding a few of their own touches. Blue and gold damask wallpaper decorated the walls and they recreated the look of a marble inlaid floor with vinyl laminate. Statues of Greek maidens stood in little alcoves (they were only plaster, but the audience wouldn’t be able to tell.) and genuine glass chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Amelie arranged for a tiny stage for a string ensemble to perform live music and a dining area with a buffet table. Mme. Jennings insisted all the chairs be covered with satin slipcovers to prevent damaging the expensive costumes.

The younger cast was very excited to be showing off their dance moves but the crew tried not to groan when they thought of all the building and painting involved. Fortunately they were able to find a discount wedding supply store that had some lovely banquet chairs and already made slipcovers. Some were blue and the rest were gold. That was once less headache, courtesy of the mayor’s daughter, who was now using her connections for good. Or at least convenience. Amelie arranged for on-set massage therapists and chiropractors to help the crew after a few incredibly long and stressful days.

The Wardrobe Department was so busy Marinette had to be excused from filming to help sew and Mme. Jennings recruited a few additional seamstresses. It was rumored she’d recruited her cousins from Scotland but the women rarely spoke so no one really knew. They worked at a furious pace and soon costumes for the principal cast and most of the secondary were done.

Everyone was tired and stressed so Amelie declared the weekend before they shot the ballroom scene to be free time and arranged for a team movie night and a takeaway dinner for everyone who wanted it. Some elected to just catch up on their sleep.

Work wasn’t quite done for Marinette, Felix and Luka. She had two costumes to finish and fit and they had to try on their costumes to see if any adjustments needed to be made.

Luka practically bounced down the hall. Marinette wanted to see him alone! Well, she wanted to see him alone to see how well his ball costume fit and whether or not she needed to make any adjustments but still, any time alone with her lately was precious and hard to find.

He told himself he wasn’t jealous of Marinette’s new friendships with the cast. Being an actress could net her some excellent contacts and he’d eat his Jagged Stone guitar pic if Mme. Amelie and Allegra didn’t contact Marinette after the movie to make dresses for them.

It was also good she got along with Allen and Claude. He loved to hear her laugh and their stories of past movie shoots and pranks they played on each other on-set made Marinette giggle and helped keep her anxiety down. Plus, Luka didn’t get the chance to play with musicians who weren’t friends or family and Allen was as talented as he was smart and good looking.

He hadn’t spent a lot of time with Chloe. She barely spoke to him although he’d caught her looking him over once or twice in appreciation. Most of what he knew about her came from what his sister had told him about and it wasn’t flattering. For the last four years she had been bullying the formerly passive Marinette and his shy sister. She’d used her father’s position as Mayor to avoid punishment. Until this year when she suddenly stopped. Perhaps she was too busy trying to survive lycee without her usual enabling teacher and an education staff who told her “Daddy” had no power over them, only the Ministry of Education.

Felix…on the other hand…well, that was complicated.

Felix’s resemblance to his cousin was eerily similar and Marinette did appear to have a type. While Luka was relatively sure she was over Adrien and moving on, he had no guarantee she would move on to him. That was…fine. He’d told her he’d be happy for her no matter who she chose. He’d meant it; he’d back off and leave her alone to make her own choices, even if the person she chose wasn’t him.

That being said, even if he accepted her decisions, he didn’t have to like or agree with them. He’d smile and congratulate her but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt. He might even be a little bit angry. He was allowed to be jealous, wasn’t he? He was allowed to be frustrated.

Luka couldn’t blame Marinette if she was attracted to Felix, looks aside. Felix was smart, charming, talented and confident. He was good-looking and aware of it, even if he didn’t exploit it. Watching the way Felix interacted with his mother and his friends, Luka felt he’d be loyal and respectful if he ever chose a romantic partner. Luka genuinely liked him and wanted to be friends, to hang out and laugh together. Maybe Felix played an instrument too. He should suggest the three of them spend more time learning about each other.

If Luka was honest with himself, he was getting sick of letting go of people he cared about with a smile and a wish for their happiness. He wanted to fight, to prove he was worthy, the better choice.

He wanted to be selfish, just once in his life. He deserved to be someone’s first choice and he wanted that someone to be Marinette.

Luka shook his head as his thoughts continued in loops: love, jealousy, longing, frustration. He couldn’t think that way, not in Paris.

He stopped outside the dressing room door that Marinette told him she’d be in. He took several deep breaths and mentally reminded himself to do some meditation and mindfulness exercises later.

*****

Luka raised his fist to the door and rapped with his knuckles. He didn’t have to wait long before hearing her call out “come in!” and he smiled before opening the door.

Chloe wasn’t sitting in the corner waiting to take pictures of him in costume and he asked Marinette why.

She just shrugged. “She said she had plans with Allen and told me she would get pictures of you in your Founders’ Ball costume when we shot the scene.”

He closed the door behind him. “So, we’re alone?”

Marinette smiled. “It’s been awhile hasn’t it? It seems all we do lately is work work work with hardly any downtime.” She sighed, sounding tired.

Luka grinned. “It’s worth it, isn’t it?”

She laughed, delighting him when her eyes brightened and cheek flushed. “Are you kidding? I’m going to be able to put ‘Costume Designer’ on my resume and I’m not even eighteen yet!”

He nodded and smiled at her. “And on your university transcripts. ESMOD would be drooling to have you after working on a Graham Films production.”

Marinette giggled and he wished they weren’t working so he could snuggle with her while they watched a movie. Or did nothing at all. Well, the money he earned on this film would keep his family literally afloat for months. The pay was leagues better than working as a delivery driver so he could afford to put some money aside for himself.

“And not only are you acting, but you’re helping create the score for a major film production,” her enthusiasm for his success was even greater than his own and he loved that about her. She grinned up at him and it was all he could do not to hug her. “Jagged Stone himself will be begging you to work with him!”

Luka chuckled at the unlikely but fun mental image of his music idol getting down on his knees and begging Luka to come work on his latest album. “Mom would love that.”

She giggled. “Oh, yeah.” She looked at him, still grinning. “It’s mind blowing that the two of them used to work together.” She frowned, thinking. “I wonder why they stopped. Creative differences?”

He remembered the way they’d argued at the docks. “With those two? Probably. But it’s just as likely if they were working with Bob Roth back then, he probably drove them apart so he could make more money promoting Jagged as a solo artist.”

“And your mom is way too independent to let someone like Bob control her,” Marinette agreed and they shared a laugh, thinking about Anarka Couffaine telling Bob exactly what she thought of his management style.

The laughter gradually died away and they were left staring awkwardly at each other.

Marinette’s eyes darted around the room, clearly looking for something else to say. “Um, yeah! Do you want to try on your ball scene costume now?”

He knew it was wrong to smile but even when she was shy and awkward she was adorable. “It’s what we’re here for.”

“I’ll go get it!”

She rushed to the storage room in the back and raced towards him holding a brown clothing bag over her head. She double-checked the outside tag with the inside tag to make sure she had the right costume and then thrust it into his hands. “Go go go! Change!”

She grabbed his waist, turned him around and all but threw him into the changing room before coming back and making sure the curtain was closed. “Come out when you’re done!”

He laughed. He loved his Ma-ma-Marinette.

*****

Luka slid the curtain back and hoped he’d put on everything correctly. “How’s this?”

“I’m sure it’ll need an adjustment here or there but for the most part it’s probably…whoa!”

Marinette nearly dropped her pincushion as she stared at him, eyes wide. “You look so good! It’s like you just walked right out of my sketch!”

He laughed and fiddled with the tie. “I don’t think I have this quite right.”

“Oh, don’t feel bad. Hardly anyone knows how to tie a tie anymore.” She crossed the room and reached for the tie, untying it as she spoke to him. “How do you like it?”

Luka allowed her to pull the tie off him, then raised and lowered his arms and let the fabric move around him. “It’s pretty stretchy and easy to move in.” He ran a hand down the front of the coat. “This isn’t leather.”

“No, it’s suede. Suede is stretchier than leather. It’ll move easier than leather during a sword duel.”

“Very smart.” He looked down at his feet. “I’m not sure dress shoes are really Watson.”

“Me either,” she didn’t look up from the tie she was trying to get out of the three knots he had somehow tied it in. “I was thinking of combat boots, not the modern kind. Mme. Jennings has some vintage that might have been her father’s. Are you still a size forty-five?”

“Yes.”

“Then I think these will still fit you. We might get them to stretch a centimeter but not as much as two.” She finally finished straightening out the tie and looped it back around his neck. “I think I remember how to do this from helping my papa. I’ll try to tie it for you but sooner or later you should learn to tie your own.” She glared up at him. “I can’t always stop to do this if you win a Cesar or a BAFTA you know.”

He smiled but she couldn’t see it. “I’ll do what I can.”

She didn’t seem to be interested in what he was saying while she re-tied the bit of silk around his neck. “I went with Victorian or Regency inspiration for most of the cast but for you I went Edwardian. Still muted colors but softer, lighter material. Not as stiff. I went with a summer wool which has more cotton but still that rough tweed look. It’s also a little stretchy because the fabric has some spandex in it.”

Luka wasn’t listening, he just let the lecture about sewing and design flow over him as he heard her talk about what she loved. Her eyes were bright and interested and her posture was confident. He let her turn him this way and that while she got his tie properly adjusted.

“I also thought a standard vest or waistcoat wouldn’t suit you or Watson so I went with an asymmetrical vest instead.”

Her small hands left his throat, which was good, because he was worried she could feel his pulse. Instead her hands skimmed over his chest and slid down his waist. He knew her touch was completely innocent but he had to close his eyes and try to meditate so he didn’t knock his hands away or worse, pull her closer and kiss her. Every time he tried to remind himself she was getting over someone and wasn’t ready for anything serious, it sounded like more and more of a lie.

Maybe she needed a rebound, someone like…Felix. He looked like Adrien sure but he would also be gone in a few months. Marinette might get hurt but hell, it would be over soon and he would be there to console-

No.

That would be cruel and manipulative, to both Felix and Marinette. He loved her and liked Felix. He didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize their friendship, especially if Felix could help her with her career. Felix deserved someone who wanted to be with him long term and so did Marinette.

Okay, enough. He had work to do. And was Marinette kneeling in front of him and feeling his legs?

This was his punishment for impure thoughts and nearly succumbing to temptation. Oh, and doing something pretty dirty to Felix too.

“I think your pants need to be hemmed.” She was telling him. “I almost went with white but I thought stark white would look too harsh so I went with cream.”

Really, Marinette?

“Well, they look great.” He looked into the mirror so he wouldn’t be lying.

The black, gray and cream looked fantastic, contrasting without clashing. The straight bottom of the vest betrayed the slightest hint of shirt as he moved but he couldn’t have it too tight. The fingerless gloves were very rock and roll and would help him keep a grip on his sword.

Luka glanced at his hands. “Could the gloves have some metal studs on them?”

“I don’t see why not,” she made a note on her phone and then got back on her knees. “I’m going to hem these pants. Try not to move.”

Oh, this girl was immune to irony. “I’ll do what I can.”

She slid the ankle of the pant’s leg. “How’s this?

He looked down, “how far up can you raise it?”

“About a centimeter and a half. I want the pants cuff to look right.” She adjusted the pants again. “What about now?”

He looked in the mirror. “Perfect.”

Marinette pulled some pins out of her wrist cushion and raised the hem until she was satisfied, then looked at the mirror until the hem was even all around.

Luka admired himself in the mirror again. He loved it. He’d have to be careful not to get anything on it but Mme. Jennings told him they usually had a spare, just don’t take it for granted.

He looked inside the coat and found a long inner pocket roughly the length of a sword. She really did plan for everything. That would save them from having to stop filming to grab them.

She noticed his satisfaction and grinned. “I’m pretty good, aren’t I?”

“You certainly are,” he bowed and found it very easy in his costume, “Your Highness.”

She giggled and curtsied. “Please. We’re friends.” She made an elaborate show of offering him her hand to kiss. “Princess Marinette will do.”

*****

When had he stopped?

When had he stopped thinking of Marinette Dupain-Cheng as an opponent? Worthy or otherwise, he no longer thought of her as an obstacle or an antagonist.

That was not to say he’d stopped enjoying their verbal sparring matches. She was quick-witted and easily matched his intellect, matching every barb he threw at her with an adeptness that was as impressive as it was playful.

She no longer scowled at him when he needled her and took his criticisms of her acting with good grace and used them to improve her performance without taking offense. And to his surprise, he longer wanted to offend her.

He could admit to himself (and perhaps his mother) that he didn’t like her when he first saw her. She was lovely, with beautiful blue eyes and soft pink lips. Unfortunately she had been crushing on his oblivious cousin, who at the time had been pining for a superhero. It was pathetic and sad because anyone deserved better than to be someone’s second choice.

Now Adrien was dating Kagami and she seemed good for his cousin; strong-willed and fiercely independent. She could teach him how to stand up for himself; he brought out a gentler side of the fencer. They balanced each other rather well.

And for him? Well, he wasn’t really interested in relationships or romance in general but he thought he’d be a good partner for someone like Marinette. She needed more confidence in herself and someone to teach her how to be selfish every now and then and say no. He supposed she could teach him how to better express his emotions and challenge him and bring his ego down to size when he needed it. Which, if he listened to Allen or Chloe, was often.

Then again, there was Luka.

It would be easy but cowardly to dislike Luka. He was level-headed and mature and when Felix was being difficult or demanding, the older boy would just smile knowingly at him and Felix would feel like a nursery schooler having a tantrum. And he’d be good for Marinette. He knew how to calm her through her anxiety attacks and quelled her self-doubt. He was strong enough for her to lean on and teach her how to relax; that she was good enough.

He was growing fond of both of them and that surprised and worried him.

It was easier, simpler to be alone.No one could hurt, judge, or use you. He’d been through that before and swore he’d never allow himself to be that naive or vulnerable again. Yet, now he was thinking of the Quantic Kids and even Chloe as friends he could confide in. They had fun, whether it was acting, breaking a room full of garbage or a tabletop game. It would hurt to lose them now. He could, and he would survive, but it would hurt.

He’d rather not think of what it would be like to lose Marinette either. She was sweet and bubbly and optimistic but also had a snarky side he appreciated. She wasn’t tempted or intimidated by wealth, she was good at planning and strategy. Sometimes Felix wondered what his life would have been like if he’d met her when they were both younger. They might have hated each other, or been best friends.

But when had he begun to change his mind about her?

Perhaps it was when she pinpointed Lila Rossi as the person sabotaging the film and why. She immediately began to plan and even had contingencies in case her original plan failed. He appreciated someone who could plan almost as well as himself.

Oh, she was heavily flawed as well. She was humble to the point of being self-effacing, she gave so much of herself she sometimes forgot to save something for herself. She was independent and refused to accept help from him unless absolutely necessary. He found her persistence and tenacity annoying when she turned it against him.

Marinette became hyper fixated when something interested her but it was a pain in the ass to motivate her if something didn’t appeal to her. Then he had to fall back on his old habit of annoying her until she lost her temper and did what he wanted without her realizing it. And oh, it made her even angrier when she realized she’d been had!

She didn’t take his behavior lying down. More than once he’d found himself tangled in some homemade trap she’d made and then there was the time he found everything in his office that wasn’t in the safe on the roof. Including most of the clothing he’d been wearing. While taking a nap. He never knew how she’d done it and when he demanded to know she’d just smiled and said, “That’s too easy. Where’s the fun?”

She hadn’t attended a private school and lacked a pedigree but he’d much rather have her in his life than some thoroughbred social climber. Or his superficial uncle who insisted on keeping up appearances and hiding his middle-class background. Marinette’s lack of pretense showed more integrity and, to be honest; class.

She wouldn’t be bought or sold and she wouldn’t be talked down to. She just needed a bit more self-confidence. More of a spine, but not to the extent Adrien did. She needed a bit of polish to show her for the precious pearl she was. That and someone who could protect themselves and her. Well, perhaps not protect her, probably someone to fight beside her.

Felix shook his head to clear it. He didn’t have time to muse about anyone. He still had a movie to film, a supervillain to expose, and a city to protect. His conflicting feelings could wait. He put the girl out of his brain.

He stood up and took a few deep cleansing breaths to clear his mind of wayward thoughts and focus on the scene he was about to act in. Later he would go to the Wardrobe Department to be fitted for his ball ensemble. He wondered what Marinette had designed for him…

…

Dammit.

*****

When Felix was reaching for the door it burst open and Luka nearly ran into him.

“Sorry!” Luka backed up a step and apologized. “I wasn’t paying attention, just trying to get away.”

Felix’s brow furrowed. “From who?” Was Chloe hitting on him? Was Lila? He didn’t think either of them were near the dressing rooms today.

“From a very cute girl who was running her hands all over me and kneeling in front of me-” Luka broke off and frowned. “I’m sure she was being incredibly innocent but my mind didn’t take it that way and I had to get away before I could stop myself from touching her back.”

Felix looked all over the other boy. His cheeks were flushed and his breathing was a little heavier. “Why didn’t you tell her to stop?”

Luka just shrugged. “I kinda didn’t want her to.” He gave Felix a similar look; examining him without being too intrusive. “I understand if that’s not your thing but I was in a bit of a difficult situation.”

He pointed to the hallway and Felix slid away to let him by. “No judgment,” he told the other boy, “but you’ll have to understand if I think you’re missing something.”

He winked and left and Felix was just confused. He heard Marinette’s voice from deeper within the dressing room. “Felix? Is that you?”

“Yes,” he answered. “Apparently I’m here for you to put your hands all over me,” he muttered before he could stop himself.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I’m here to get my costume fitted,” he amended and she didn’t seem to hear what he said the first time.

“Okay. Come on in.”

He walked in the room and closed the door behind him.

Marinette was waiting for him, looking crisp and competent. She wore gray houndstooth dress shorts and a black turtleneck. Her hair was up in a bun and she looked professional and adorable.

Stop it.

She beamed at him. “Thank you for coming so quickly. Your costume is done but I want to make some adjustments if something is too long or too tight. And I want you to be happy with what I’ve designed for your character.”

He couldn’t help smiling just a little back. “I’m just an actor. I don’t get pissed off and moan about uncomfortable costuming. It’s not my place or right to complain.”

She gave him a flat look. “In a Graham Films Production? I’m pretty sure the co-director does have the right to speak up.”

Marinette went to the back to get him a costume to try on. After verifying the tags matched, she handed it to him.

“Hope you like it.”

Some mischievous part of him prompted him to ask. “Are you sure you shouldn’t help me change?

He thought she would get flustered. Maybe she’d be angry and yell at him. Then they would argue like their characters always did and he’d feel like everything was normal and there was no need to feel awkward.

Instead she smiled at him, lips curved. Her eyes looked him up and down, almost sultry. “My dear. You should be so lucky.”

She pushed him into the dressing room and closed the curtain.

*****

Felix was rather proud of himself for being able to tie a cravat on his first try and looked at what he could see of himself. Unfortunately the dressing room didn’t have a mirror so he would have to leave the room to see his reflection. A ploy of the Wardrobe Department, no doubt. It cut down the number of actors who damaged valuable costumes after realizing how unflattering they were. Well, he wasn’t vain. He didn’t care.

He slid back the dressing room curtain and looked at the mirror.

Okay, he did care.

The long black dress coat was a strange hybrid between a Regency and a Victorian cut and he liked it better, historical accuracy aside. The white shirt contrasted with the black and he thought the gray trousers tied them together.

He looked at the dark gold waistcoat. Another excellent choice that would bring attention to his hair color.

Running his hands over the vest he felt a side pocket. He looked from his reflection to Marinette. She looked satisfied, even pleased with herself. He liked the confident look on her face.

“It’s just big enough for a watch and chain,” he told her.

She smiled widely. “I bet you already have one.”

“Helen’s granddad. It’s supposed to go to the eldest but she’ll let me borrow it.”

She nodded. “Raise your arms. I want to see how easily you can move in it.”

He did so.

“Hold them out, shoulder height.”

He paused. “T-pose?”

“Sure.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say she enjoyed giving him orders and ask if she had any dominating tendencies. That would have been incredibly unprofessional and could have gotten him and his Mother’s production company sued.

But what if she’d said yes?

You’re an idiot, me.

Marinette watched him pose. Her teeth worried her lower lip slightly and he found himself staring at her mouth before he forced his gaze away from her face. He looked straight ahead and tried to focus on…anything else.

“So, how was filming? I’ve been in the dressing room most of the day so I don’t know how scenes I’m not in are going.”

Ah, a neutral topic, something he would be confident talking about. It would relax him. Very smart.

“First, I did a scene with Barrington and Headmaster Doyle. They were discussing security for the ball and whether or not they should hire a private company.” The company would be owned by Jayden’s relatives and he would hack the school’s mainframe to make sure they got hired instead of the school’s original security company. That would give the heroes more eyes on any suspicious people. “Then Doyle and Professor Burnham-Hui discuss old times at school and how they miss Professor Akunin.” It was a great way to humanize the adult characters and give them nuance.

“Fleshing out characters beside our mains? Awesome.” Marinette took a step towards him then hesitated. “Um, Felix? I need to check the seams and the fit. That means I need to touch you.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “I’d like permission to touch you, if that’s all right.”

Felix stiffened, but only for a moment. He knew Marinette and was confident she wouldn’t take advantage to be inappropriate. Plus, she was his friend now. To his surprise, he trusted her to be respectful.

“It’s fine,” he told her, “I trust you not to…I don’t know…throw me down and ravish me.”

He meant it as a joke and wanted to needle her but she disappointed him. All she did was give him a flat look and say, “again, you’re not that lucky.”

Marinette got closer to him and reached up, touching his neck and then hooking a finger between his skin and the cravat. “Is it too tight? Can you breathe comfortably?”

He inhaled and then exhaled to show her. “Just fine.”

She nodded and then ran her hands from his underarms down his sides. “The seams look good. Plenty of room I hope? You don’t look like you have any trouble moving.”

Her hands moved lower then stopped. She looked into his eyes and her expression looked professional. Hell, she almost looked clinical as if she was giving him a medical exam. It left him feeling oddly disappointed.

“Hey, Felix?” She frowned and the skin between her brows wrinkled. “I want to check the waistband. I’ll just pull on the belt loops, I promise.”

What was it about her that made him want to make snarky comments and purposely pick fights with her when they were alone? A small part of him was worried he was blending his character with himself, something he hadn’t done since he was a child until this part. Sure, sometimes he had trouble breaking character but that was only for an instant and never when away from set.

Perhaps there was something about Marinette.

At first he thought she was just another bubble-headed fangirl obsessed with his cousin. She might have had a little talent but not much substance. As he got to know her he became impressed by her drive and ambition, her refusal to be intimidated by him. He liked her humor and wit most of all.

She was creative and had a knack for planning. She could be insightful and had integrity and leadership abilities.

It was a shame there wasn’t another Heraldry Miraculous for her to wield. He would have named her Nimue or something similar.

He felt her hands checking the seams along his calves and then stopped at his pants cuffs. He blinked back into awareness. “So uh…how’s the fit so far?”

“I was just about to ask you. The waist feels loose without being baggy. Better than Luka’s; his seemed a little tight.”

Felix clenched his teeth to keep from laughing. Really, she was either innocent or oblivious when it came to teenage boys.

Marinette raised the fabric near his ankles and he felt her hand on his bare skin. Her touch was light and gentle, barely there and even soothing. “I think your pant hem needs to come down about a centimeter. What do you think?”

He looked down and saw what she meant. Yes, the pants were slightly too short. He wasn’t sure how that happened. “I guess you didn’t take my measurements correctly.”

She glared up at him and he felt oddly vindicated. “You really shouldn’t insult me when I have access to sharp objects,” she reminded him and made a note on her phone. “We’re done here. I’ll shut the curtain and you can change.”

She was gone before he could make another smartarse remark.

As he was changing he saw Griff looking at him from his vest pocket. He had the feeling his kwami didn’t approve of his behavior towards Marinette. It wasn’t their business.

“Really, chick? That’s no way to speak to a lady like that.”

Felix paused as he buttoned his shirt. “A lady like what? My co-star? A collaborator? An ally?”

Griff made a huffing sound. “A possible future duchess.”

Felix couldn’t help it. He laughed. “I have no plans to ever marry.”

The kwami looked alarmed. “What of the family line?”

“In vitro and a surrogate.”

Griff ruffled his feathers. He sensed something exceptional about this girl, just as he had that blue-haired rival of his. Chicks these days, still wet from the shell and thought they knew everything.

*****

After Felix had left Marinette could finally let Tikki out of her purse. “Ugh. I thought he’d never leave,” the kwami complained.

“Same,” Marinette sighed and rubbed her hands together as if to remove the sensation of Felix’s body from her fingers. “What was with all the insults? Here I am trying to be professional and he’s acting like an ass.”

“Maybe it was because you had your hands all over him and he was…uncomfortable?” Tikki nearly said “enjoying himself too much” or “flustered” but she didn’t want to risk her charge developing any feelings beyond friendship for the boy. His past behavior aside, there was something unusual about Felix she couldn’t quite put her paw on. That, and even though she once would have paired Marinette and Adrien, she now thought they were better off as partners.

Besides, there was Luka and he was clearly better for Marinette, at least for now. She could relax and be herself around him and Longg and Sass sang his praises when they weren’t fighting over who was the better kwami for the musician.

Marinette shrugged then grinned, looking a little sly. “He’s put on some muscle lately but I like Luka’s body better.”

Tikki giggled. Yes, Lukanette! “Is that why you took an extra long time checking the fit on his costume?”

The girl blushed as she thought of feeling the boy’s pulse under her fingertips and the warmth of his skin. He always smelled really good from the bay rum shaving soap his mom had gotten him for his birthday. “Maybe. What can I say? I’m a normal teenage girl.”

“You’re a pervert,” Tikki accused but without malice. Her mischievous grin ruined her attempts to scold her charge.

“Like I said. Normal teenager.”

*****

"Why am I a little spoon?" Felix asked with a pout as he was spooned by Chloe, clutching Mr. Cuddly to his chest.

The beanbag they shared was soft and plush, like those squishmallow toys Allegra loved. It was brought in by Allegra, an odd chunky lavender colored dragon plush made bean bag, with some pillows that were made of the same material but with a pink cow pattern Claude found. It would fit two comfortably, maybe three pushing it. Often, most of the Quantic Kids fought over who got the bean bag, and this time Felix and Chloe were lucky to be there the fastest. Last time Felix tried he was tackled by Claude while Allegra took the bean bag as her prize. He was so miffed he didn't heal her D&D character when they managed to play.

The lights of their chill room were dimmed, there was a tablet playing an old western film; Griff and Milvii were watching. Eyes dilated and raptured at the so-called modern knights of the Wild West as the kwami declared. To anyone watching it was as if the blondes would have undoubtedly fallen asleep watching a movie. A great cover story for any unsuspecting staff.

"You're holding Mr. Cuddly," Chloe supplied as if the most natural answer in the world.

Felix tightened his grip lightly on the teddy bear that smelled of the essential oils Chloe generously sprayed on it. It was meant to be relaxing, and the refreshing scent of mint and lavender did soothe him. The soft fur was nice under his palms and it was super cuddly as his namesake. Everything perfect for a nap, Felix still didn't sleep. His mind still raced, so much was going on that it seemed so easy to fail. Maybe he should have done paperwork as he told Luka and Marinette?

It seemed wrong somehow to take a nap, the idea of guilt had him frown and tense. To just not give 100 percent in everything. It wasn't his style, Felix was nothing if not tenacious and driven. He worked hard to fulfill his goals. He would succeed in everything. Whether it be acting, directing, or this new superhero thing. Maybe, somewhere on the bottom of the responsibility pole, he could have a social life and new friendships. The image of Marinette and Luka flashed in his mind and he felt guilty. He’d turned down a chance to nap with them in order to spend time with a neglected Chloe.

"Stop thinking, you're not being a good pillow." Chloe grumbled at his ear, tightening her hold on Felix until he whined in protest. "Naps are bandaids to the soul, or Claude claims. That means no thinking."

"I can't just turn it off, Bitchoise." Felix grumbled, a bit helpless, which had the girl sigh and move.

Felix felt a bit off kilter as he suddenly felt the loss of Chloe's body pressed against his back. It was quite sudden and he turned back looking over his shoulder to see that the girl had adjusted herself propping herself up. The strawberry cow print pillow now supported her elbow as she rested her chin on her hand.

She dragged him over and Felix went from looking over his shoulder to on his back looking at the ceiling. Felix felt his hands tighten on Mr. Cuddly defensively, keeping it close to the chest because Chloe was less likely to pinch or tickle him if he had one of her most prized possessions at hand. If the kwami noticed or not Felix was unsure. As far as he could tell, the two stayed glued to Clint Eastwood and whatever movie he was in that they watched.

"Talk it out." Chloe spoke, gesturing with her free hand that Felix should continue and do that. Talk it out, it being the closest either blonde would readily admit to feelings. Felix made a face filled with his distaste and he snarked back at her.

"I must tell Claude he's doing wonderful in your empathy program, Allen also for writing the code."

"Stop it." Chloe snarked, flicking his nose with her free hand. "No deflecting, you don't let me do it so pay up."

Felix groaned, pressing his face to the soft fur of Mr. Cuddly if only to avoid Chloe's knowing gaze. It felt ever since she was bonded with Milvii she saw everything. As if the perception of the kwami bled into the holder; which was unfair. Felix wasn't feeling particularly courageous. He was feeling so weird and confused. Oddly bereft and he wasn't sure if it was one specific thing or a combination of anything.

"I don't know what it is." He confessed. "But I feel like a rope fraying on the ends a bit."

"Hmm…" Chloe hummed thoughtfully as she took into consideration his words. "I'm going to say stuff and you'll listen."

"When you put it like that it means I won't like it." Felix groaned, sinking deeper into the bean bag.

"Don't care, stop fussing." Chloe flicked him again if only to catch his attention, and it wasn't often she could. "You're not a crocodile."

"Your observations are astounding, madam." Felix snarked, he couldn't help it. "What next? I'm not a bear?"

"You're not, maybe an English badger if we’re lucky. Sadly you're a certified bastard with pedigree to match" Chloe followed him easily. "But as I was saying, Crocodiles don't need to chew their food, they bite off and swallow; you’ve been doing that too lately, and you keep on biting off more than you can handle. You're running yourself ragged trying to do a lot and looking cool the entire time.”

“I am prepared and capable with all of my tasks. I'm Felix Graham de Vanilly, we’re very resourceful.” Felix defended himself, but the words sounded weak and hollow even to himself.

She gave him a “you’re not fooling anyone” look which reminded him of his mother. “Fe, we both know that is a lot of bs. I mean, actor and director, ok, both high intensity but in the same wheelhouse. I am willing to admit you’re very capable, resourceful and good with the networking to have brought an outstanding team to back you up. You're reminding Gabriel Agreste that he's nothing but a Boomer and you will defeat him.”

Chloe could tell she didn’t have him convinced just yet and sighed, throwing her hand in the air. “That plan is fun and isn't constant. We get our opportunities and have a field day. I mean it took you days to ride off the high you got showing his little secretary who’s boss which was very nice. The hero gig? Yeah that's taking a lot of our time, I mean--" Chloe paused to yawn as if proving her point. "We're tired, and you focus on what more you can do than learning to juggle what you got. So shut up and nap, you need beauty sleep. If only to make your personality more tolerable to the nice folk."

Felix wanted to protest. Say something, anything to prove her wrong. Sadly there wasn’t much to counter her offers. He was running himself ragged, a rope overused and beginning to fray. He didn’t like it but it was the truth. Dissatisfied with his mortal limitations which were showing up more and more since he’s been in France, Felix sighed, defeated. He needed a massage, a nap, and a nice hour or two of absolutely nothing. Now was sadly not the time, so wasting the precious minutes they all grabbed to sleep felt wrong.

“I might concede…for now, but I’m tired so let’s try to nap.” Felix spoke quickly, turning and resting his cheek on the pillow once again ignoring the satisfied smirk Chloe had as she hugged him once again. It seems the little talk worked in untangling a part of his head for now as he felt himself slipping off into slumber. The low noise of the tablet was soothing like any lullaby, the soft and plush beanbag and pillows were grand, and the weight of another person made him feel less lonely.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Sleep, while difficult to achieve at first, was welcomed eagerly by overworked, tired heroes that basically had their lives divided by two or three different directions. Four if the overachievers were asked, which were sadly most of the heaviest hitters.

While exhausted teens took the fleeting moments to nap with relish; momentarily disconnecting from all responsibilities in their dreams, relaxed and deep in slumber, somewhere in Paris a certain man was making plans to ultimately disrupt momentary serenity. He didn't know that the outcome of this particular plan would backfire spectacularly on his face. With this instance he will gain even more enemies. Not that they knew about it, but this is how it happened.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Hidden from the prying eyes of Paris there was a man. Sunlight shone through an ornate window illuminating the room. Butterflies began to flutter about as it has happened every time he stepped in with ill intent. Hawkmoth thought it was time for a new plot to enact his schemes. Take the miracle jewels of Paris's favorite crime fighting duo and do with it his ultimate evil plan.

"A new day, a new opportunity." Hawkmoth spoke to his butterflies. “Let’s go find one, shall we?”

Hawkmoth tapped into the intrinsic value of the butterfly. Yet for transformation there needed to be a catalyst. Caterpillars had a catalyst that encouraged them to transform and with the miraculous Hawkmoth could manipulate humans to do the same. Yet it was difficult if the circumstances weren't in his favor. 'Twas a delicate balance that Hawkmoth employed, finding the best scenarios to awaken.

He focused and felt himself connect. A network of all living beings lighting up like a map in his mind. Pulsating and illuminated with the colors of emotion. It always felt overwhelming when he stretched his consciousness so far, so he began to refine it. Remove his connection from plants and animals, while they could be good for distractions it wasn't his intent at this time.

Now Hawkmoth looked at the silken strands of so many potential akuma. Eager to see one who was ready for a little nudge to become a beautiful and terrifying butterfly. Colors sparked in his mind's eye, the network pulsing akin to a heartbeat and in an array of colors. He looked out for specific feelings. Anger, sadness, heartbreak, righteous fury, hatred; anything that would birth a worthy Akuma to further his goal.

Oh, longing. The emotion enticed the villain from where he stood and he delved deeper. Ignoring most of the city until the faintest tendrils of his power connected him to the emotion that piqued his interest.

Looking at that sad graying red of a once vibrant love. A young teenage girl was in love. Aren't they always? She was in love with a classmate who didn't know her, one-sided love at that.

Hawkmoth focused on sending his consciousness further into seeing the reasoning behind the emotions. Memories filtered through his mind.

The young girl was in love with this boy since they were young children. For so long she had been in a friend group and she helplessly pined because she had no courage. She was working hard on building her confidence, experimenting with make up and fashion. Joining the same music club, working hard to learn her instrument so she could spend time with him.

The girl was sincere and tried so hard. She even worked a part time job to buy him a present on becoming the first chair in their club. She had just bought the present and was heading home when she saw something. It was the boy, looking shy and sweet. Laughing with a pretty girl both holding hands when a breeze dropped some leaves onto their hair and taking the opportunity of 'removing the leaf' from each other's hair they stole a kiss. It was romantic and beautiful, a young love’s date and the girl felt despair.

Prodding further it seems that the other girl knew of her feelings, and assured him that she would support her. What betrayal! Such longing! The girl believed if she had the chance, if he would give her a chance, she would prove how much better she was. Hawkmoth couldn't really resist. One of his little purple butterflies fluttered down on her and landed on something starting a direct connection between the two.

"Cry not, sweet child." Hawkmoth crooned, his voice soft and delicate to not startle the girl. He imagined a younger Emilie crying and the tenderness was easy to convey. "Your tears are precious."

"Wh--who's there?" The girl gasped looking around for the origin of his voice. She was in her room, she had run home and was crying on her bed. The opened window showed a beautiful parisian scene but no one there to speak to her.

"I am a friend, and one who's seen your plight." Hawkmoth spoke in the form of a greeting. "I saw the depths of your pure love and the pain of your betrayal. It is so awful that a friend would betray us that way."

"Marie isn't my friend;" The girl spat hotly standing up in fury, the pulse of anger was a wonderful spark. She would be a good akuma. "Or else, she isn't anymore, maybe she was never a friend to begin with." The girl muttered deflated staring at a picture framed on her wall. Of her and that so-called friend Marie, they looked happy. The girl was sad all over again. The ember of her anger was extinguishing, and Hawkmoth couldn't have that.

"Of that I am sorry, child." Hawkmoth soothed, softening the girl's sadness with his limited power connected to this temporary champion, and subtly fanning her anger. "I know not who to pity more. You for the betrayal of a so-called friend, or for poor Laurent. He's innocent and being manipulated by Marie. If she couldn't be a friend to you, obviously she cannot be left with Laurent's heart. She will destroy him."

The honeyed words once spoken, seemed to plant themselves deep into the girl. Flashes of emotions pulsated. Shock, pity, love, betrayal, sadness…all culminating in one perfect emotion. Rage so potent that the light seemed blinding in their connection. Hawkmoth couldn't help the smile, he has her where he wants her.

"We have to save Laurent." Hawkmoth spoke urgently, keeping his kind facade.

"We do, I have to. How didn't I think of this before? Oh mon dieu." The girl gasped, pressing a fist to her chest.

"I can't do much by myself; but together we can save Laurent." Hawkmoth proposed. "All I ask is that you also help me; you see some people betrayed me too. They stole something important and everyone praises the thieves. I so do want the miraculous back."

"Of course!" The girl agreed, not noticing how she began to change. Where there was once a sad teenage girl, was the new dark champion of the villain; with a new mission.

"Let's help Laurent, Miss Cupid." The hopeful voice of Hawkmoth whispered with a far more sinister edge. Yet Miss Cupid did not notice the exhilarating feeling of power coursing through her drowned out things she should have noticed.

"Yes Hawkmoth, and don't worry I'll help you, too. The miraculous will be returned." Miss Cupid agreed as she took off.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Forty-five minutes.

Only forty-five minutes have passed.

FORTY.

FIVE.

MINUTES?!

Three quarters to an hour, fifteen minutes away from a glorious 60 minutes. The universe couldn’t even try to give them the full 60 minutes of extra sleep until all hell broke loose. The sick bastard who was responsible: Hawk Moth. The reason? He just had to create a new akuma. The siren and semi-distant screams filled the questions that filled Felix as he awoke with a start.

Insult to injury was the guitar riff that was Claude’s ringtone in Felix’s ear as he picked up the call.

"LARP." The singular word was code to the group. That they would go and transform, fighting the akuma. It was the first time the code was used, and for it to be Claude was alarming. His tone held no room for argument. It was less of a suggestion, or a question. No, Claude was transforming and was simply telling Felix, as Felix was the leader of the Knights.

"Claude," Felix sighed, understanding his friend was mad. Secretly relieved it wasn't his fault, or any staff's. He wouldn't need to plan contingencies. "We agreed not to involve ourselves with pest control."

"Sorry, Boss," Claude didn't sound sorry at all. "Taking a part time job."

"Not alone," Felix was quick to remark.

"Lady-love is talking to the big guy." Claude explained, he had Allegra talk to Allen. No doubt repeating the same code to Allen.

"What does the heart say?' Felix asked, trying to reign them in.

"Giving understanding support."

Shite.

"Griff, are we cleared to Larp?" Felix asked, noticing that Chloe had jumped into motion. The lethargy of sleep clung like a stubborn lover, but she was moving. She had been feeding both Milvii and Griff, and was grabbing a snack bag for both kwami.

"Not up to the best circumstances." Griff spoke up before turning to Milvii.

"You'll do, Percival has already been awakened." Milvii nodded.

"At least we're taking a back seat." Felix proposed as a compromise, they needed to sneak out of here also. "Stay low, don't be seen if you can help it."

“Nah boss, we’re out for blood.”

Click.

“Bitchoise, we’re fighting an akuma.” Felix spoke a bit absently trying to wake up.

"Already texted your mom, and I memorized possible escape routes D-Marinette gave dealing with our other problem. Ready when you are." Chloe chirped.

Once again Felix wondered what he did to piss off the universe this time.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The Akuma Alarm blasted loudly, waking two other teens who scrambled. Both needed secrecy to go and help the city. Luka made a quick lie about helping secure the music equipment because Allen was working mostly alone. Marinette agreed and saw as the boy sped off vaguely running to the music room. She opened the window of her trailer as it faced a rarely traveled path and looked at her kwami.

"It feels mean, having Luka run away to transform." Marinette mumbled.

"Well the Guardian did say that your identities couldn't be exposed." Tikki reminded her holder, not really sure if it should even stay true now after everything. "It's for your safety."

Her little bug was running ragged, a friend who knew what she was going through would have been so helpful. It wasn't as noticeable because the make up team was doing wonders making her not look as tired as Marinette was, and the concealer did a great help on covering the shadows that had been steadily growing. Tikki knew that Marinette was enjoying herself, the designing was fun and it was a breath of fresh air to see creativity in motion.

The acting, while a hurdle at first, was growing on Marinette and Tikki was sure that part of it was how she interacted with everyone, especially Luka and Felix. With Felix Marinette was confident, like Ladybug but without the burden of responsibility. With Luka she was grounded and at peace. Which meant that when she had to stand as the leader and guardian of the miraculous alone, it was harder for Tikki to stomach. The Guardians were a network back in the temple and not one person held all the burden, not even the Grand Guardian. For such responsibility on her young holder, Tikki felt bubbling questions pop in her mind. Maybe it was time for a change, for all their sakes.

At least we have Luka helping out as a hero again, and Miss Kagami. I hope it helps remove her burdens. Tikki thought while she looked at her holder. The teen was psyching herself up and looked so alone and tired.

"Tikki, spots on." Marinette spoke the words, losing her usual youthful enthusiasm. She appeared more battle worn and tired, a general rejoining a never ending fight. Scarlet light wrapped around her body and no longer was the girl Marinette standing there. Now she was Ladybug, hero and protector of Paris.

#felix graham de vanily #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #chloe bourgeois #quantic kids #original characters #worthy opponent au

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