#gentle lies and friendly smiles

[6-and-7]

Spiral!Amy (inspired by this post)

Growing up sleeping next to a crack in the universe does funny things to a person. You have this constant sense of loss, of mourning something -- someone -- you can't even remember. Only the feelings remain, disconnected from memories that no longer exist. Open wounds on missing limbs, never able to heal. First you worry about it. You tell your mother, who checks on it never existed. You tell your father, who checks on it never existed. You tell your aunt, who sends you to therapy.

Then you try and hide from it, but the more you try to escape it, the more you see it everywhere, running along walls and windows and trees. It's a crack in everything, everywhere. You looked into a cracked mirror once. You don't look in mirrors anymore.

Then you try to appease it. Or, you think about appeasing it. You never seem to actually manage to get around to it, you think, staring out at the duck pond. There are no ducks there. There never have been anymore. Aunt Sharon says that she really should get her eyes checked, she's needed glasses for ages, and why hasn't she ever gotten a pair? Your lips twist up into a smile, but you don't know why.

And then, at long last, you embrace it. You are always smiling, now. Sometimes you laugh at nothing, or at least what is nothing now. Your therapist was always missing a leg, but you managed to bite it regardless. An open wound on a missing limb, never able to heal.

Amelia Pond, like a name from a fairy tale. An impossible thing, a child born of nothings and never-weres. She fell down, down the rabbit hole, from which there is no returning. All that remains is the Amy in Amnesia, and a Pond without any ducks.

[w4ndal0ver]

Seduction Techniques (mommy!wanda x sub!fem!reader)

[minors don't interact, 18+]

pairing: mommy!wanda maximoff x sub!fem!reader (set in the 1960s decade of wandavision, i forgot she doesn't have children at this point but I'm not rewriting it so pretend pls <3)

summary: You work for Stark Innovations as a secretary for Vision. After getting invited to a party at his house you turn up with a clingy and flirtatious colleague. Wanda immediately takes a likening to you, wanting to make you hers, but when she see's your colleague trying to mark her territory, she has to teach you a lesson.

content warnings: shameful mommy kink, gagging, slapping, praise and degradation, slut shaming, masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus, choking, toxic possessive wanda, mention of innocence and wandas fascination in your age gap and inexperience, images linked to breast feeding, adultery and gloriying affairs.

word count: 8k (strap in, its a long one)

Seduction Techniques

Stark Innovations, you read tracing the words with your finger. You hadn’t been at the company long, but to be completely honest you had no idea what you were actually working for. You knew that it was a leading technology and defence contractor, known for pushing the boundaries of modern engineering, but that wasn’t where your specialities lied. You’d been Visions secretary for about a week now, basically just running files between different sectors, answering emails and calls, but mainly you felt like you floated around the brightest minds within a 40 mile radius of Westview. 

This morning you were sitting at your desk, papers scattered across the surface, trying to figure out what you were supposed to do with all the folders. The office as a whole is a large, sterile space, intimidatingly quiet and you would do anything you could to avoid being noticed by the people who worked around you. This was impossible considering the only woman in the office was sitting adjacent to your desk and every time you glanced over at her, she was always looking curiously at you. 

The door of the main office creaked open and everybody looked up as Vision walked into the room, visiting each and every person at their desk with little A6 pieces of card. Once he got to you he spoke in a professional manner, “I wanted to give you this,” He reaches over the unorganised mess of your desk, acting as if he was pretending not to see the state of all of his files, giving you the benefit of the doubt considering it was only your first week. 

You take the card, glancing over the elegant script. It was an invitation to a party at his house, seemingly addressed as a mildly professional birthday gathering for himself. “It will be good for you to meet some people outside the office so please come along if you can,” He suggests, “And get this sorted out, come on.” His hands gestured to the stacks of paper all out of order. 

You nod, returning the gentle smile, though your mind is already racing with anxiety. You hadn’t expected to have to attend something quite this personal, a considerable line you were forced to cross so soon. You looked around the room, nobody else seemed mildly interested in the invitation, clearly a usual event for the rest of your colleagues. You glanced down at the invitation again, it was signed, Wanda and Vision. 

As you looked up from your desk, the brunette woman from across the room was now perching against your desk. “Hi, I’m Natasha by the way, I felt rude for not introducing myself.” She spoke softly, her eyebrow raised slightly as you held your hand out to meet hers in a shake. “Especially considering the testosterone in the room.”

You both giggle, yours slightly more nervous than hers. “Are you going to this thing?” You ask, unsure if you’d be able to attend without a friendly face you could use as a safety blanket if things went south. 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Her eyes flickering over you in a way that makes your pulse quicken, even if you weren’t entirely comfortable with how publicly she was speaking to you. “But if you’re going, maybe I could tag along with you?”

“Well I’ve got an invitation, so I guess I’ll see you there.” You laugh nervously, not wanting to seem too thrown by her advances, considering she was the first person, other than your boss, to make an effort to talk to you. Not seeing you as below her as Vision’s secretary. “Who’s Wanda?” You ask, trying to shift the conversation away from her advances.

Natasha’s raised eyebrows tell you all you need to know, her expression clearly surprised. “You haven’t heard about Wanda? Everyone knows who she is.” She smirks, stepping back a little as she sips her coffee out of her floral patterned mug. “She’s Vision’s wife, you’ll see her this weekend. Trust me, you won’t miss her.” She winks, brushing her arm past yours as she walks away. You just nod, feeling a strange flutter of anticipation in your chest at the mystery that went by the name of Wanda. 

A few days went by and you were finally in your car, parked outside the address on the envelope. You were a little later than planned, but the grandeur of Vision’s house sat in front of you and you felt a wave of nerves pass over you. It was taking every part of you to not pull out and drive away from the white picket fence that enclosed the well-manicured lawn and perfectly trimmed hedges. You take a deep breath and decide to just face it, knowing that this might be your only chance to be forgiven for what you had to admit was a very bad first impression on your first week. 

Inside, everything is even more pristine than the front, polished wooden floors and family souvenirs scattered purposefully everywhere that you looked. It was a warm and welcoming atmosphere, aided by the warm lighting and harmonies of multiple conversations that was happening in the main room. You felt a little out of place, glancing around the small crowd that had gathered all together. You pull at your white buttoned blouse, re-adjusting your collar and smoothing down the creases in your forest green pencil skirt. 

Your eyes quickly find Natasha, standing in the corner with a glass of champagne in her hand. She notices you immediately, flashing you a mischievous grin as she saunters over, a slight sway in her hips as she approaches you. “You made it!” She says, her hand sliding casually onto your lower back as she leans her hip slightly closer to yours. You stiffen slightly but you try to play it off, not wanting to break friendships already. 

“Yeah, I couldn't miss it.” You admitted honestly, feeling stuck in a state of awkwardness which was quickly cut off by Vision approaching you both, dressed in a well tailored suit. 

“I’m glad you could both make it.” He exclaims, his voice slightly tired from the endless introductions and greetings that he was forced into at his own party. He shakes your hand briefly, then glances over his shoulder. “Wanda, darling, come say hello.”

You feel the air shift as Wanda emerges into your eyeline. She’s breathtaking in a subtle, but devastating way. Her red hair twisted into a French plait, pinned elegantly at the back of her head, the soft curled strands falling loose around her face. She’s wearing a deep green dress that hugs her curves in a professional manner, the material catching the warmth of the light just right. Her eyes are green, sharp, almost knowing as they settle on you. Then came her smile, one that could make you melt in an instant, making it hard to look away. 

“So, you must be the new one Vision’s told me about.” Her voice is rich, with a slight teasing edge that makes your hairs stand on end. She looks you over in a way that feels far too intimate for a first meeting, her eyes lingering just a little longer than they should, not remaining solely on your face. 

Before you have a chance to respond, someone calls her name from across the room. “Sorry I have been summoned,” She laughs, “But please get yourself a drink darling, don’t make me look like a bad host.” You watch her walk away, your eyes drawn to the casual sway of her hips, the graceful way she appears to move through people, like they magnetically moved and formed a path for her. 

For the next hour you tried to remain focused in your conversation with Natasha and other fellow colleagues who dropped in and out of your small circle. There was a pull in your chest that kept drawing your gaze back to Wanda, her auburn hair bounced as she spoke, that blush across her cheeks was a magnetic pull. Your stare always seemed to find her figure in the crowd, barely adding anything to any conversation. 

“I’m just going to grab another drink.” You say, interrupting the aimless conversation that you weren’t the slightest bit interested in. You, less elegantly, move through the crowd and through the arched doorway into a kitchen that was so suburban you thought you’d stepped into a film. It certainly was no match for your tiny apartment where you can sit on your bed and also open the oven at the same time. There was metres of space around you, but still photo frames and children’s paintings littered the room. 

You walked by, eyes catching a wedding photo of Wanda and Vision and you felt guilty for drooling over the way the housewife looked in her wedding dress. You immediately put the frame down, walking to the bottles of wine that were stacked on the counter, twisting the lid open and refilling your own glass. 

You’re lost in thought when you hear the soft click of heels against the wooden floor. You turn and your breath hitches when you see Wanda entering the room, a glass of red already in her hand, her lips, slightly wine-stained curling into a smirk as she catches your eye. 

“Hiding in here?” She asks, her voice low and smooth as she steps closer. You swallow hard, feeling your heart race in your chest, silently praying that she couldn’t hear it thump against your skin. 

“Just needed a moment,” You say, trying to sound casual, “And you know.” You laugh nervously, lifting your freshly refilled glass as Wanda’s eyes beam at you with satisfaction. The tension between the two of you is palpable, almost like you could slice through it with a knife. 

“Hm, I don’t think you’re supposed to refill your own glass, especially not at your boss's party.” She teases humorously, watching the pink flush into your cheeks and you hold up your hands ready to apologise. “Ah, ah no need, you’re always welcome.” She reaches over you, your back up against the counter as her fingers graze your upper arm as she grabs for the bottle that you opened. You feel the spark of the touch, sharp but settling as you swallow hard. 

“It’s a lovely party Mrs Maximoff.” You compliment, not sure what else to say. She looks down at you, satisfaction lies deep within her green eyes. She waves her hand as if to say she’d heard enough of the small talk all night. 

“I couldn’t help but notice how close you and Natasha are.” She asks with genuine curiosity, but you blink surprised by her unashamed bluntness. 

“Natasha? No, It’s not like that.” You stammer, caught off guard as your bodies remain intensely close. “We work together, that’s all.” 

Wanda laughs softly at your nervousness, her eyebrow arched as she presumed you were suggesting that she would have a problem with it even if you were more than colleagues. “Relax, I’m not that kind of woman.” Her eyes gleam as she takes a deliberately slow sip of her wine, never once breaking eye contact. Your flush was creeping up your neck now, unsure of how to respond. “So no one special hm? Pretty girl like you.”

You couldn’t almost choke on your small sip of wine at the compliment, the liquid getting stuck in your throat. “No, I don’t, most of my time is spent taking care of Vision and work.” You’re not sure why you’d lied, you spent the majority of your time worrying about your job, spending less time doing what you were actually paid to do. There was something about her gaze that was making you feel strangely exposed to the point you were making stuff up on the spot. 

Wanda’s lips twitch in amusement as she swirls the wine around her glass at your response, “Oh trust me, I know what that’s like.” There's a wicked glint in her eyes, and just as you’re about to ask what she means, a familiar figure fills the doorway as Vision walks into the room. 

“Wanda my darling, can I steal you for a moment.” Wanda nods instantly, turning back to you and rolling her eyes, but not before stealing another slow and lingering glance as she steps past you, her hand brushing your arm, this time her fingers squeezing harder against your skin, lasting far too long to be deemed as innocent. 

“We’ll talk later,” She says softly, almost under her breath before she slips out of the room, leaving you standing in the empty space of her kitchen, breathless and more confused than ever. You gulp down the wine, refilling your glass once again. 

You noticed how quickly you were getting through drinks, beginning to feel yourself get a little more tipsy. You were now perched on a stool in the living room, listening to the drunk slurs of Natasha still rambling on about something that you lost interest in about half hour ago. Your eyes were still fixed on Wanda, who by the continuous scrapes on the back of her neck and quick breaths that she took when she walked away from someone, you could tell was also becoming slightly more tipsy. She was holding herself better than you, somehow her heels keeping her stable as she pranced elegantly around in that dress that was driving you crazy. 

The evening continued to progress and the effects of the wine were at the forefront. It was more than a gentle buzz now leaving your thoughts clouded and your steps a little uneven. You were trying so hard to leave Wanda alone, but the faint clicks of her heels against the polished floor kept bringing you back to watching the way her emerald dress clung to her curves. You watched as a faint shadow of discomfort clouded her usually poised face and you watched her try to slip away unnoticed towards the hallway, which would have been successful if you weren’t watching her so closely. 

The tension in her shoulders when she walked made you feel uneasy at your core. Instinctively, you followed her steps, slow and measured, trying to stay upright as you trailed her toward the bathroom. You stop in your tracks when you hear muffled voices behind the door. You could recognise it anywhere, Vision’s voice stern and sharp cutting through the silence.

“You should’ve paid more attention Wanda. Do you know how stupid you’re making yourself look?” His voice was low, but there was no mistaking the irritation beneath it. You could barely make out her response, but the emotion in the silence that followed was clear. Moments later, the door flew open and Wanda rushed out, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. She didn’t see you as she brushed past, head down, her heels clicking faster as she made her way to the back door, escaping into her back garden away from the crowd. 

You didn’t know what came over you, your heart racing at the sight of her as you followed her out into the garden. The cool night air hit your wine muddled brain and you spotted her sitting on the low stone wall that bordered the garden, her head in her hands, the hem of her dress sitting perfectly around her form. Her red hair was slightly messed from the evening, a few stray tendrils escaping the elegant french plait she had worn so proudly earlier, but you thought she still looked beautiful. 

You hesitated, questioning whether the wine was pushing you forward, but you needed to make sure she was okay. “Mrs Maximoff,” Your voice was soft as you stepped closer, she lifted her head quickly, her tear-streaked face turning toward you. In a flash, she wiped at her eyes, trying to compose herself.

“Hi, sorry it’s my turn to have a moment.” She tried to laugh, but her voice was hoarse and the lie was painfully obvious. 

You sat down beside her, keeping a respectful distance. “You don’t seem fine,” You reach out, placing a comforting hand on her knee. While the contact meant to be reassuring, it sent a jolt of electricity through you both. 

Wanda’s lips twisted into a wry smile, her hand overlapping yours as a silent thanks, “It’s just hard you know, You think you’re doing everything right and then it's suddenly not enough.” She let out a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m trying to be a good wife, a good mother, but I don’t know what I’m saying, you’d have no idea, you’re so young.” You could hear the wine laced tone in her voice as she continued rambling, but the genuine hurt was written all over your face. Without thinking, you reached out, brushing her hair back gently, your fingers lingering at the nape of her neck. 

“You are an amazing wife Mrs Maximoff, Vision is lucky to have you. And your kids? They’re lucky to have a mother like you,” You compliment honestly, letting your wine thoughts take over, “You’ve got them all plastered all over your house, It’s obvious how much you care about them.”

She paused, her eyes widening slightly, a mixture of surprise and hope. There was a flicker of something deeper in her gaze, and for a moment, it felt like the world around you both faded away.

“You think so?” Her voice softened, a hint of unexpected vulnerability breaking through. Yet despite it all, the tension hung tick in the air as she searched your eyes, her expression shifting. “You barely know me. How could you possibly think that?”

You felt a surge of confidence as you leaned in slightly, heart racing quicker than before. “I don’t need to know everything about you to see what kind of person you are.” You paused, letting your gaze roam over her face, the way the moonlight illuminated her features. “I can see good people from the moment I meet them.”

Her lips now formed a teasing smile, her eyes holding a certain depth that made your breath hitch in the back of your throat. They were flickering with something unreadable. She leaned in just an inch closer, her voice low and laced with flirtation. “Good people, hm?” Her fingers now create circles against the back of your hand, “Careful darling, you might find that I’m not as good as you think.” She tilted her head, deciding to go easier on your innocent face that responded silently to her teasing, “I can’t imagine a young, attractive girl like you could really mean that.”

You felt heat flood your cheeks, caught off guard by her compliment. You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady, though you were sure she could hear the slight tremble in it. “I do mean it. I might not know everything about you, but you’re more than just Vision’s wife or your children's mother.” You shifted closer, your heart pounding harder in your chest as you dared to let your gaze linger on her lips. “You’re something special Mrs Maximoff.”

Her face darkened at your words, her smile fading into something softer, more intense. She let out a quiet breath, every inch of your skin tingling with anticipation. Her thighs subtly began to squeeze together, every time you addressed her by her title rather than her name which she had introduced herself as, but you choosing to remain innocently respectful was driving her crazy. Wanda couldn’t help but imagining corrupting your innocent little mind, having you bent over for her while she fucked you dumb. 

“Special... is that what you think I am?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, dripping with curiosity and something else—something far more dangerous.

You nodded, the words caught in your throat as your pulse quickened, your heart hammering in your ears. Her fingers stopped their slow, deliberate movements and instead curled gently around your hand, her thumb brushing the side of your palm in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

Wanda’s eyes darted down to your lips, her breath warm and shallow. She hesitated, her voice now even softer than before, vulnerable beneath the weight of the growing tension between you. “You’re so sweet to me honey, and you barely know me.” Her lips now hovered inches from yours, so close you could feel the warmth of her breath against your skin. “I might not be the good person you think I am. What if I make you regret it darling.”

Your core trembled at how close her face had become to your own. The desire in her voice was slowly unravelling you, but instead of pulling away, you allowed the wine to give you the confidence to lean in further, closing the distance until your lips were almost touching. Your voice trembling, “I don’t think I could regret you Mrs Maximoff.” 

That was her final straw, she snapped the tension as she closed the gap between you with a soft, deliberate kiss, the kind that felt like a blow burn igniting deep in your chest. The touch of her lips was light at first, testing, teasing, but when you didn’t pull away from her advance, her hand cupped the back of your neck, tangling itself in your hair, pulling you deeper into the kiss. 

Your fingers instinctively gripped her waist, feeling the heat of her body through the thin fabric of her now bunched up dress, and for a moment, nothing else mattered but the way her lips moved against yours, her tongue swiping your bottom lip before taking it into her teeth and tugging against it, making you whine desperately against her mouth. 

Wanda pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against yours, her breathing uneven as she whispered, “I told you, I’m not as good as you think,” Her thumb brushed over your jaw, her lips ghosting yours again, a low, teasing chuckle escaping her, “But I could take care of you, you know that don’t you.” 

Her voice dropped lower, that familiar tone slipping into something more playful, more commanding, “Mommy knows how to make her good girl feel special.” 

Your pulse quickened again, heat flooding your body as her words wrapped around you. You were at a loss for words, you were particularly inexperienced and you’d never had anyone that looked or sounded like the way Wanda spoke to you. You could feel the arousal pooling between your legs, your mind reeling from the kiss, from her touch, from the way she held complete control. Before you could respond, the sound of footsteps approached from behind you.

“Well this is cosy.” Natasha’s voice broke the tension like a whip. You jerked away from Wanda, your heart racing as Natasha appeared at the edge of the garden, her expression one of amusement, but there was something dangerously possessive flashing behind Wanda’s eyes. “There you are,” She slurred, her hand reaching out to grab your arm and you could see Wanda desperately trying to not stand up for your defence, “Come on, let's get back inside gorgeous.” 

You were too stunned to resist as Natasha pulled you up from the wall. You glanced back at Wanda, your heart aching at the sight of her. She sat there, watching you with a look that was far more than just jealousy—it was something primal, something dark.

Your chest tightened with a sense of dread, knowing you were in deep trouble. You’d crossed a line, and there was no going back.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, but Wanda’s gaze never left your mind. You didn’t see her again before you left, and now, the thought of returning to work and seeing Vision—after kissing his wife in their own garden—was enough to make you feel dizzy.

That night, after you’d managed to find your way home, you felt a shameful amount of guilt and you couldn't sleep. Even as the moonlight spilled through the slats of your blinds, casting a soft glow across your room, your mind was racing. Every time you close your eyes, you see her. The way her lips had felt pressed against yours, the warmth of her breath, her voice, thick with desire, echoing in your ears.

"Mommy knows how to make her good girl feel special"

The words sent a shiver through you, settling deep in your core. Your body stirred, heart pounding harder as you recalled the way her fingers had brushed over your skin, the unspoken promise in her touch, the way her lips had lingered just a moment longer than necessary. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts away, but it was no use. Wanda was all you could think about, and the more you tried to ignore it, the worse it got.

Your hand moved slowly beneath the sheets, almost without thinking, fingertips grazing over your stomach as a small gasp escaped your lips. You hesitated for a moment, but the memory of her was too strong, too intoxicating. Your body ached with need, your breath coming quicker as you gave in to the desire swirling inside you.

You imagined her—her red hair falling in loose curls, the way her lips had formed into that teasing smile. The way her eyes had darkened with want when she’d leaned in close, her voice a low murmur meant only for you. "You’re so sweet…" her voice replayed in your head, as though she were there beside you, whispering in your ear. "But maybe I’m not as good as you think..."

Your hand slipped lower, and you bit your lip as a soft moan escaped you, your body responding to the thought of her, the memory of how she’d kissed you in the garden, her fingers so possessive, so commanding. Every touch, every word, was still fresh in your mind, and it made your pulse quicken.

You imagined her voice, soft and sultry, like velvet wrapping around you. "You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?" you could almost hear her purring, her lips ghosting over your neck as her hand trailed lower, just like yours was now. "I could take care of you, make you feel so good…"

Your breath hitched as your fingers dipped lower, finally giving into the need that had been building since that kiss. The pressure of your hand, the soft movement, made you arch into the sensation, biting your lip harder as the heat coiled in your belly. You imagined that it was her touching your clit, making you gasp carefully at the touch. The image of Wanda’s smile, her possessive gaze, fueled the fire, every thought of her pushing you closer to the edge.

"Mommy knows how to make her good girl feel special…"

Your fingers moved faster, the wetness between your thighs a stark reminder of how much she had affected you. You pressed your head back against the pillow, your free hand gripping the sheets as the memory of her touch consumed you. The way her voice had dipped, teasing and dangerous, the way her hand had lingered on your skin—everything about her had left you aching for more. Your eyes were closed, the image of her face hovering over you, that smirk cutting through you as she watched you fall apart underneath her touch. 

Your breath came out in soft pants, your body tense as the pleasure built, spiralling out of control. It was all Wanda—her lips, her touch, her dominance—everything about her had ignited something in you that you couldn’t ignore. Your hips bucked against your hand as you chased that release, imagining her there with you, whispering in your ear, telling you how much she wanted to take care of you.

"Good girl."

That was all it took. Your body tensed, your back arching as a wave of pleasure crashed over you, your soft moan filling the quiet room as your hand stilled between your thighs, shivering in the aftermath. The tension released in a rush, your body trembling as you slowly came down from the high, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

But even as the pleasure ebbed away, Wanda’s presence lingered in your mind, a constant pull that you knew would only grow stronger the more you thought of her. And you couldn’t stop thinking about her.

As you lay there, your heart finally slowing, one thought circled back in your mind, sending a thrill through you: this was far from over. You had tasted something dangerous, something forbidden—and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to hold yourself together if you got the chance to see her again. 

You woke up a few hours later to the sound of your alarm, hitting the clock you rose and was immediately drawn to the stickiness between your thighs from your activity the night before. You’d made such a mess of yourself to the thought of her, something that you had barely done before. Even without her there she made you feel so dirty and a part of you absolutely loved it. You decided to leave the same underwear on, enjoying how uncomfortable you felt sitting in the dampened fabric, a constant reminder of Wanda. 

Your head was aching from the alcohol you’d consumed, but you managed to find your way to your desk as the office settled into its usual afternoon quiet. You’d been struggling to stay focused all day and when Vision approached you earlier you felt your voice squeak, squirming in your chair as you felt your arousal grow just at the thought of his wife.

Once again, Natasha was hovering over your desk, finding reasons to brush her hand over your arm, her touch lingering in a way that sent mixed signals. You were trying your best to stay focused, but your distracted mind didn’t have the energy to shake her away from you. 

“I wouldn’t mind taking you out for a drink later, If you’re up for it.” She leans in, her voice low and teasing but unlike Wanda’s tone from the night before, she didn’t make you want to drop everything in order to go on an uncomfortably flirtatious date with your needy colleague. You felt bad leading her on, but your mind was elsewhere. 

Before you can even formulate an excuse, you catch a flash of red out of the corner of your eye, the familiar daunting sound of the click of heels against the laminated floor. Everything around you seems to freeze. Wanda Maximoff. You tense up, recognising her immediately before her mind catches up to you. She walks into the office, a few greetings heading her way from the other men sitting at desks closer to the door. Your mouth hung ajar slightly at her figure wrapped in an elegant dress. 

You try to maintain your composure, but as you watch Wanda glance around, her expression purposefully remaining neutral, yet you still feel the weight of her gaze land briefly on Natasha, who still stands too close to you. 

“I’m just dropping off some files for Vision.” Her voice is calm, smooth, but you can sense the underlying tension in the way her eyes dart between you and Natasha. 

“Vision’s actually out for the day, but I can take care of that for you.” You stand up from your desk, stepping towards her as you gesture toward the file in her hands, hoping to appear professional though your nerves are evident in the tremble in your fingers. 

Wanda’s lips twitch into a smile, her fingers tightening slightly around the folder as if she was considering whether to hand it over. For a moment, her gaze locks onto yours, and there's something intense, something dangerous simmering just beneath her incredible composed exterior.

“Are you sure? It’s important.” She says, her voice dropping with faux innocence, though the way her eyes linger on you sends a very different message. You nod, managing a small smile. 

“I’ve got it. You don’t need to worry.” You reach for the file, your fingers brushing hers briefly as you take it from her. That sends a jolt through your core and you can’t help but notice the slight smirk that pulls at Wanda’s lips as she watches your reaction. 

Natasha is standing behind you, recognising the obvious tension between you both. “Always so helpful, aren’t you?” She teases, but there's a sharp edge to her tone now. She steps closer to you, her hand lightly brushing your shoulder once again, as if claiming her territory in front of Wanda. 

Wanda’s eyes narrow ever so slightly, though her smile remains calm and composed. “I’ll leave it in your capable hands then.” Her voice is velvet, but you can feel the jealousy bubbling beneath her words. 

“I’ll make sure your husband gets them.” Natasha says, a harsh tone to her voice, accentuating heavily on the reminder that Wanda is married. The brunette continues to hover far too close to Wanda’s liking and you watch her gaze harden, her green eyes practically burning with unspoken possessiveness. The air between the three of you feels suffocating, and all you can do is stand there, caught in the middle, your heart pounding in your chest. 

Suddenly Wanda retracts her previous statement as she was about to leave, “Actually we need to talk privately,” She doesn’t wait for a response, her hand lightly gripping your arm as she gestures towards Vision’s office, “Now.”

The way she says it makes it sound less like a suggestion and more like an order and you follow her without hesitation, your heart racing as she sways her hips purposefully in time with the click of her heel as she steps. 

As soon as the door closes behind you, the atmosphere shifts. Wanda is no longer the calm, collected housewife she usually presents herself as. She turns to face you, her eyes darkening with something that was dangerously close to fury. Before you have a chance to greet her properly she shoves you harshly into the office door, the blinds to the door window already closed from Vision before he left. 

“What the fuck was that.” She spits at you, her voice dripping with disdain. She grips your jaw between her hand, forcing your face up to look directly at her, her thumb digging particularly hard into your cheek. “Natasha is a bit too friendly, don't you think?” She growls her name, her manicured nails scratching into your skin as she sputters her name. 

You blink, taken aback by the sudden change in her demeanour, yet there was something so intoxicating and addictive about it. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Didn’t mean to what? Let her flirt with you.” She leaned in closer, her lips almost brushing against your ear as her grip on your jaw tightened. “You think you can play around with people like her? You’re just a little girl, you don’t know what's good for you.”

Your heart raced at her words, the fire in her tone igniting a thrilling mix of fear and desire within your core. “You’re so young, so naive. You think you can handle this?” She steps back slightly, her eyes narrowing as she assesses your body trembling, wincing as she roughly tugs your face up further, making you uncomfortable. “You need someone to teach you, to take care of you. Someone who knows what’s best for you.” There was an edge to her voice, a possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but she cuts you off. “No, don’t say a word.” Her voice was low, commanding, stepping in closer again, feeling the heat radiating from her fury. She leans into your neck, her grip tugging your head to one side as she licks a strong stroke up the length of your throat, biting into your ear lobe making you whine. 

“You need to learn your place.” Her other hand gripped your wrist, shoving you harder into the door, “Your place is with me, not that pathetic little whore.” You felt a rush of submission wash over you at her words. 

“Mrs Maximo-”

She delivered a sharp slap to the side of your face and you let out a sharp moan at the hot sensation spread across your cheek. “You don’t get to speak right now.” Her eyes flashing with a fierce protectiveness, “You are mine, you listen to me.” Her hand finds its way to your throat, gripping you so tightly she’d cut the oxygen completely off, your eyes fluttering as you went lightheaded. 

She loosens her grip, not letting you go, your head still flush against the door looking up to her with your innocent eyes. “You’re not ready for that type of attention.” She was looking at you now as if to be assessing your worth to her, “I will teach you to be good, how to belong to someone.” 

“But I want to make my own choices.” You plead, your cheeks flushed as her grip tightened harder than before, your throat caught in the whirlwind of her anger and jealousy. 

“No you don’t” Her voice had calmed and her grasp around your neck was now just fingers brushing against your skin, finding the curve of your jaw and gently caressing you. “You want me to take care of you.”

You couldn’t help but nod, the truth of her words resonating deep within you. You had wanted this since the moment you set your eyes on her, you just didn’t really know what this was before now. You felt your innocent leaking out of you in the form of your arousal dampening your already ruined underwear. 

“You don’t think pretty girl, just let Mommy think for you.” Her fingers like fire brushing against your heated skin, a stark contrast to the anger still simmering beneath the surface. “Aw, you like the idea of that don’t you.” Her breath was stern against your neck, “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” Her hand brushing the pink flush of your cheeks, one side significantly darker from the slap you received earlier. 

“Now Mommy’s going to teach you how to behave.” She teases, finally letting go of your face and your throat and you breathe heavily in order to catch up with your racing heart race. You’re stuck flush against the door, watching as she packs up a section of Vision’s desk, tapping the top of the wooden surface, gesturing you to come and sit up on it. 

You do it immediately, but as you go to perch against it she grabs your thighs from underneath and roughly pushes you to where she wants you. Her hands bunch your dress up to your waist, revealing your light pink underwear, a little bow sewn in the middle of the hem. She also saw that you weren’t wearing tights, but thigh high socks and she scoffed at the sight of you. 

She cups your pussy, only again chuckling at the warm dampness that immediately soaked into her palm. “Honey you’re soaking for mommy.” She places more pressure into you, the heel of her palm pushing dangerously into your sensitive clit, making you yelp. You could tell that you looked guilty, immediately remembering how you’d ruined them a few hours before. “Have you touched yourself in these?”

You nod shamefully and she hooks her finger under the hem at the side, yanking them down quickly and removing them completely from your legs. “Did you get some big feelings, pretty girl? Tell me.” She bunched your panties in her hands, bringing them up to her face and inhaling your sweet scent before tossing them to the side. 

You could choke on her words, but when she pushed your thighs apart wider, standing between you, forcing them to stay open as she roughly pushed two fingers inside of you, immediately curling them upwards at a relentless pace you had never experienced before. “Tell me.” She warns dangerously, quickening her pace, wanting to hear the desperate shake in your voice. 

“There was a funny feeling in my stomach that night you kissed me.” You panted heavily, “I had to touch myself, imagining that it was you.” You sounded so pathetic but Wanda was lapping it up, her thumb finding your clit as you leant back against the desk, holding yourself up by gripping the opposite end of the desk. 

“When was this pretty girl?” Wanda asks, her motions now remaining a continuous pace now that she’d found the one level higher than it seemed you could take comfortably. 

“Last night.” 

“And you wore them today.” Wanda scoffs, her smirk dangerous and sultry, her green eyes dark as she starts thrusting hard into you. You nod in shame, your head hanging low as she scrunched your eyes at the rough contact against your bundle of nerves. “You’re filthy aren’t you, a filthy little girl for mommy.” 

“Yes Mommy, I’m your filthy little girl.” You could barely string sentences together, each word caught in a high pitched moan. You hear footsteps from outside the office, people walking by and Wanda stills her movements, pulling out of you and moving backwards remembering that she’d forgotten to lock the door. 

“You sound so pretty for Mommy, but you need to stay quiet.” She whispers, her own hand dipping underneath her dress, feeling the soaked fabric of her own underwear before pulling them off. You watch in awe as her black laced panties hooped at her ankles, she steps out of them, the click of her heels louder as they step back to the ground. She bunches them in her hand, her other hand grazing your lips, prying them open before slotting her dampened underwear between your lips, “For safe measure.” She smirked, you looked so pathetically desperate with her laced lingerie gagging you. 

You felt dizzy as the taste of her arousal leaked onto your tongue, you groaned at the sweet taste of her, but your groan was painfully muffled. She delivered a quick slap to your thighs, you opened your legs immediately and she pushed her fingers back inside of you, once again not giving you a chance to react before she was thrusting harshly into you. “You enjoy the taste of Mommy while I ask you why you’ve come to work looking like such a slut when you don’t work for me, but rather my husband.” 

You try to defend yourself, but no words come out as your tongue continues to circle the dampened fabric, barely able to see as Wanda adds a third finger to the other two relentlessly working inside of you. “Who are you trying to impress?” You shake your head at the accusation, no other way of getting your words across. 

Your core is trembling as Wanda harshly fucks you with her fingers, her nails now digging into your back, forcing you forward to lean into her chest. The new angle made her go insanely deeper inside of you, leaving you moaning loudly into her chest. Your head rested right against her breasts and you could feel her painfully erect nipples against your cheek through her dress.

As her thumb begins to draw torturous circles around your clit, the sensations are way too stimulating for someone of your little experience. You tug desperately at the buttons of her dress and she looks down at you while her wrist continues its same rough thrusts. “You wanna suck on Mommy?” You nod frantically at the assumption and she smiles at you, placing a gentle kiss to your temple, your emotions confused at the gentle gesture while her fingers were fucking you dumb. She removed her underwear from your mouth, draping them over the edge of the desk as a constant reminder that she could gag you if you mess up. 

She allows you to undo the top of her dress, managing to find your way to her soft porcelain skin, her breast perked upwards and you immediately latch onto her hardened nub. You whimper softly at the feeling of your lips against her nipple, using your tongue to softly flick over her breast, making it easier for you to manage the pace in which she was fucking you, her nails gripping into your waist, pulling your front flush against hers as your mouth refuses to let go of your natural gag. 

Each time her thumb flicked your clit so precisely, you whined against her nipple, the vibrations making her wrist pump harder into you. She felt you suckles getting harder, your teeth lightly grazing as you felt your core tighten around her fingers. “You’re close aren’t you princess.” 

You nod desperately, letting go of her aching nipple with a pop as you look up at her pleadingly. “Those puppy dog eyes aren’t letting me forget how you let Natasha touch you, only good girls get to cum when they want.” Then suddenly all contact was removed from you and you looked up at her with desperate confusion. She brushes her hand across your lips, your sweet arousal lingering on your mouth. 

“Mommy?” You say, your voice laced with confusion as you are left on the brink of your orgasm, your hips jutting uncontrollably to try and gain contact. 

“Mommy wants to taste you, I’ll give you what you want once I hear what I want from that pretty mouth of yours.” She says, her voice stern as she drops to her knees in front of you, her hands caressing your inner legs through those sheer thigh-highs that were driving Wanda crazy. She imagined having you in her and Visions bed, ankles lied to your wrists as you lied on your front before she fucked you senseless with her strap. But she was more than satisfied as she smelt your arousal in front of you, your wetness glistening against your skin and your perfect folds. She was obsessed with the way your pussy looked, so tight and neat, perfectly untouched. 

Wanda pushes her hair behind her ears, diving in to consume you, taking one long lick from the bottom of your slit, right up to the top of your trembling clit. She looked up at you, trying your best to sit so she could see your face, your eyes crunched and bottom lip between your teeth. “Who do you belong to?” She asks, before sucking against your exposed clit, protruding desperately as she clasps her lips around it.

“You Mommy only you.” You pant breathlessly, your feet digging hard into her back in an attempt to stay still and docile for Wanda. She continued to suck against you, pulling back, kissing an individual kiss against your bundle of nerves. 

“Who is not allowed to go near you.” She says, before diving straight back in, this time her hand reaches the top of your mound, stretching your skin upwards so her tongue could flick harshly against your aching clit, pushing you dangerously close to the edge. 

“Natasha.” 

With the name spoken, her teeth gently nip at your clit and you let out an exasperated cry of pain before she soothes it with her saliva, spitting softly onto your cunt so her tongue would glide effortlessly through your folds. She pulls back one more time, enjoying the sound of your worn out voice, still trying so hard to please her. “What happens if Mommy finds out something like today happens again.” 

“Mommy will punish me.” You gasp, your core burning as the orgasm twirled in your stomach, threatening to rip right through you as Wanda maintains her hold, leaving your clit completely exposed to the rough attack of her tongue. You were doing everything you can to drag out the feelings of pleasure and pain against your cunt, not wanting this spaced out feeling to end, you knew you’d do anything she asked, take anything she wanted you to in this moment. With the grip of her nails into your waist, her tongue relentlessly working you up you reach the point of no return, the inevitable orgasm ripping through you at an intense level, your skin felt like it was burning apart as her name tumbled from your lips, her tongue not once stopping. 

She continued until you rode out your high, your hips rutting against her tongue as she tried to hold you down, but secretly loving the feeling of your body not being able to control itself, knocking into her mouth over and over again. Once you let out your last heavy breath, Wanda emerged from under your bunched up dress, one final kiss delivered to your entrance before immediately grabbing you into a soft, gentle kiss that shared your arousal through your tongues sliding against each other. 

“That's a good girl, I think you learned your lesson.” Wanda smirks, pulling you into a careful embrace as your body shakes against her hold. “Now you go back out there and pretend Mommy didn’t just fuck you dumb in your bosses office.”

[alwaysshallow]

i'm thinking of john price and reader, childhood best friends. you're close with him basically from second grade. inseparable, even when he went to the military and the daily talks weren't possible. you wrote letters to him nonetheless, describing what exactly happened, so he wouldn't miss a thing. he's too important for you to lose, and he thinks the same way about you to.

maybe that's why you two made a promise to each other that if you two are gonna be single till 40, you two will marry. after all, what is so wrong in marrying your best friend? nothing, and if it means sticking with each other to the end, then so be it. he was gonna be here anyway, till the end.

you even made a small paper, like it was some sort of agreement or something like that.

with years, you think it's some sort of joke because even if you have boyfriends, no one really sticks and sooner or later, they leave. john, on the other hand, has no one - says he's too busy with the military and flings are better, so you don't pay mind to that too much.

and you probably should. almost all of your “boyfriends” left you because he was, and still will be the problem. he’s too close, acting way too friendly, scaring your boyfriends off or simply threatening them - and, getting the job done. your latest ex-boyfriend knows something about it, considering that he landed in the hospital with several broken bones:/ 

it’s your blind faith in john that is a problem too; you simply can’t believe that a man, so gentle and so friendly could harm anyone. after all, all he wants is you to be happy, right?? that’s why you haven’t caught up in his lies.

“they’re simply not worthy,” he muses, kissing the top of your head. “men these days… disappointing, aren’t they?” 

“you could introduce me to someone.” you roll your eyes with a smile, when he shakes his head. “haven’t you told me that military men are the best?”

“i did,” he starts, leaning against the frame, “but that’s only me. others are… filthy. possessive, obsessive, acting like they possess you whenever they have eyes on you.”

“and you?” you raise your eyebrow.

“i am your best friend. that’s something entirely different, love.”

and the conversation ends on that; you remember them when he puts an engagement ring on your finger, on the day of his 40th birthday.

[pseudowho]

Ditch the Party

Nanami Kento hates parties; but the drinks? They make him...bold.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Nanami Kento is a horny drunk, just regular old smut here

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"Just...promise me you'll behave tonight," you beseeched Kento as you pressed your earrings into place. You saw Kento lean back into the bathroom on his way out, bristling, indignant. Your nose twitched in amusement as he caught your eye in the mirror, looking stern.

"I don't know what you mean," he replied stiffly. You scoffed.

"You absolutely do," you countered, turning, your hand on his chest. Looking him up and down, in a slim black suit and burgundy shirt, tie-less, you felt outdone.

As you leaned back on the bathroom counter, Kento's eyes had a naughty twinkle as he leaned down towards you. Your eyes narrowed with a smile of warning, and you pressed one finger to his lips. Tapping his nose as he opened his mouth to bite your finger, you reminded him.

"Come on, big guy. We'll be late. The taxi guy's probably sick of waiting for us." You slithered past Kento, feeling his fingers brush your waist for the barest of moments, as you gripped his hand and pulled him towards the door.

In the taxi, Kento gazed at the city lights, considering his life choices; "Why are we going to a party this evening? We don't even like parties." You laughed, reapplying your lipstick in a mirror.

"We don't, it's true. But it's a big birthday for my uncle, and we promised," you wheedled. Kento grunted his disapproval beside you. Your eyes narrowed at him again; "And, it's a family friendly event, so..."

Kento looked at you again, innocent but challenging. He let your statement hang; this time, it was you who was bristling, indignant.

The party had already begun by the time you arrived; held at your aunt and uncle's home, a warm orange glow and thrum of conversation spilled out from the kitchen to the garden, deep green hedges flickering with torchlights and tiny twinkling fairy lights. The music was low, the conversation easy and audible above it. A barbeque puffed out woody smoke. Drinks were flowing freely. You sighed as you approached, relieved.

"See? It's the good kind of party," you pressed, squeezing Kento's hand reassuringly. He sighed, unable to argue with you, reassuring you with a gentle smile that you didn't need to babysit him all evening for fear of him having a dreadful time in the company of others.

While Kento headed in to fetch drinks, you greeted family and friends. Kento returned soon after, with a large gin and tonic for you, and a larger whiskey for him. He slipped an arm firmly round your waist, pulling you flush to him as he planted a kiss to your forehead.

The night wore on, the conversation lubricated by alcohol, and small, tipsy groups milled around the garden fires. As food was served, an elderly aunt approached, and asked Kento how he was enjoying the meal.

"It's delicious, thank you," he replied low and smooth before leaning into your ear, whispering, "it almost tastes as good as yo--"

"I'm sorry, dear?" Kento leaned up, all smiles to your elderly aunt, as you blushed from your ears to your toes.

"I said, it tastes almost as good as your cooking, auntie," he lied and she chirped, flattered, patting him on the arm with a smile. Your auntie headed away, and you spun to Kento with a look of warning. He completely ignored you, honeyed eyes glowing in the firelight.

Eyes narrowing at him, you headed over to the table to fetch Kento a glass of water, and almost immediately felt him cage you against the table from behind, his sculpted shoulders leaning past you to rest on his knuckles on the tablecloth. You felt his warm, whiskey breath against your neck.

"We could always bend you over this table," he murmured, as you felt a throb of lust in your belly, "and see how hard we could make it shake." As you spun, still caged by Kento's arms, a family friend approached just beside you and offered you and Kento an uncertain smile. Kento plucked your hair clip off the table from behind you, holding it up with a cunning smile.

"There it is, darling," he said warmly, the family friend now less uncertain, "I told you we'd find it." The family friend left, and you hissed up at him.

"Kento. Behave." He fixed you with a look of faux-innocence as he stood, finishing his whiskey.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, smiling at your uncle, wishing him a happy birthday as he passed, and then leaned over you again, pulling you close to his chest as he rumbled, eyes hooded and glinting, "but then, you never do make much sense when I'm fucking you until you can't see straight."

You groaned against his chest, hand over your eyes, mortified. You heard your aunt gently asking Kento if you were alright.

"She's fine," he chuckled, "can't handle her drinks, I think." Your aunt cooed, sharing a joke with Kento, and you gaped up at Kento, who accepted another drink from your uncle, utterly shameless.

"Kento," you hissed again, "you are just a--"

"Menace?" He rumbled, ghosting his lips over yours, whispering, "I could be. Just give me a bit of time, and something to tie you up with, and--"

Your mother came over, greeting you both, and you were forced to play drunk, you were so flushed at this point, babysat by Kento as he rolled his eyes fondly at you and made small talk.

Kento slipped his hand lower and lower behind you as he talked with your mother, and you felt his long fingers trace your thigh, surreptitiously climbing upwards beneath your skirt to graze your arse, before creeping round again and you felt his fingers brush softly against your fol--

You squeaked, jumping, your drink sloshing over your toes. Kento flapped a hand above your head.

"Just a moth," he reassured you and your mother. Your mother gave your burning cheek a kiss. Kento waited just long enough for your mother to leave, before looping an arm round your waist, pulling you into the shadows, behind hedges further down the garden. You squeaked with alarm. Kento drained both of your drinks, and unceremoniously abandoned the glasses in a bush, before pulling you onto a sheltered bench by your uncle's koi carp pond.

You were thrumming with embarrassment at this point, and leapt off the bench, mortified by Kento's utter shamelessness and alcohol-loosened tongue, ready to chew him out...but...

Kento sat on the bench, legs spread wide in his tight black trousers, thick, toned arms stretched out across the back of the bench. He looked deeply into your eyes, chiselled face dramatised in the shadows. Slowly reaching a hand out, he pinched the top of your skirt, pulling you in between his spread legs, strong and determined.

"We don't like parties," he toned, low and sultry, as you were pulled into his lap, "but we do like it when you ride me until our clothes are ruined."

Kento grabbed your thighs, forcing your skirt up to your waist and parting your legs around his lap. He hesitated, changing his mind and lifting you off him briefly. With no argument, he stripped off your underwear, pressing it to his nose and breathing in with a groan and a shiver, eyes closed in ecstasy. You hissed to him again, terrified of being found, arse and pussy open to the world--

Kento pulled you back down to straddle his lap again, sinking his hand into the back of your hair and tipping your head back as he ran his tongue and teeth against your throat.

"Nobody else will be able to see that wet little pussy of yours...if it's as close as I want it." Slipping two fingers between your legs, Kento rubbed your clit in tight little circles, and you felt hard and fast pangs of pleasure through you as you trembled, gripping Kento's shoulders desperately.

"Someone will hear, Kento--" he bit your neck in warning, squeezing your arse hard as he moaned, shivering as he continued to press hard against your clit.

"Well then be quiet, my love." You mewled, muffling your face into his neck, quaking as his clever fingers dragged you to orgasm, stimulating you hard and fast until your thighs shook, and his hand was wet with your arousal.

Kento's eyes were dark and determined now, single-minded as he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock, solid and weeping pre-cum against his belly as he stroked it, lubricating himself with your cum. Locking his arms behind your back, he lifted you and slammed your sensitive pussy down onto himself, bottoming out immediately.

You shrieked, and Kento clapped a hand over your mouth, nipping your lips as he shot you a lustful, playful look. Hands then locked behind your hips again, he lifted you up and down with wet slaps, immediately seeing stars with the relentless pace, chasing your pussy with his hips as he bucked.

You gasped, breathless against his neck as his cock bullied into you, pliable and shaking as Kento groaned into you, unashamedly loud-- "harder," he insisted, increasing the pace with his hands clenching the fat of your hips, "harder."

His mouth pressed to yours, kisses hot and smoky with whiskey as he nipped at your bottom lip, his groans deep and guttural as he felt your pussy clench around him while you held onto his lapels, mewling, tipsy, completely fucked senseless, as promised.

Feeling the trembling of your plush walls around him (the nerves of his cock already electrified by the alcohol) had Kento reeling  and he came, whimpering into your mouth as he ground your hips against his, bottomed out and warm shots of cum spurting directly against your cervix.

You both shook, tangled and sweaty, spent, while Kento chuckled and you slapped him on the chest. You heard voices approach; your uncle, excited to show someone his prized koi carp.

Kento threw you onto the bench beside him as you yanked down your skirt, and Kento zipped himself up, putting an arm around your shoulders.

Your uncle arrived, "Oh, hey kids! Enjoying my carp-- whose are those?"

Kento coughed delicately, eyeing your forgotten underwear at the side of the pond; "No idea," he said, coolly, "they were here when we arrived."

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Infiltration, Chapter 5: Breaking Point, IS coming this weekend as promised...but in the meantime

[st4rfckerz]

house sitter | anakin skywalker x reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: MDNI 18+, kinda non con ???, somnophilia, groping, unprotected sex, creampie, infedelity, mild degradation, fingering, oral (f receiving), age gap (anakins in his 30s, reader is an adult), anakin's a pervert.

summary: you watch over the skywalker's home while they're out on a date.

a/n: this might be all over the place so i apologize BUT this is actually the idea i was talking about when i posted "i just woke up with the horniest fic idea."

house sitting was without a doubt the easiest job you'd ever had. all you had to do was lounge around in expensive homes and watch out for intrusions, which, for the record, hardly ever happen.

the famous skywalker family had employed you to watch over their house while they went on dates, visited other planets, etc. you had gotten to know the couple pretty well, especially anakin since he was always friendly with you and often times would spend time speaking to you, although it was never anything more than just light conversation for him.

you noticed that anakin had spent more time talking to you lately and was starting to become a little bit more attentive towards you, he had always been kind and friendly but you felt his friendliness had become more... intentional, but maybe you were just imagining things.

padmé called you to inform you that she and anakin were going out to dinner and would be gone for the majority of the evening.

you've just pulled up to the skywalkers' driveway, parked your car, and started approaching the stone walkway. after a few knocks, anakin finally opens the door with a small grin plastered across his face. he couldn't help but feel a certain thrill at the thought of having you around again.

"hey, glad you could make it." anakin greeted you at the door, his dark blue eyes took you in for a moment before he steps to the side to let you in. padmé approaches you while still putting in her earrings.

"thank you so much for watching the house while we're gone," she beams.  padmé's enthusiastic behavior always made you smile. 

"of course, padmé. your house is in good hands." you replied with a gentle smile. anakin caught your gaze and you couldn't help but notice the way he was looking at you. his eyes had an almost dreamy but slightly lustful gleam about them. you choose to ignore it and bring your attention back to padmé.

"we'll be back at around midnight." as anakin and padmé bid their farewells and depart for their much-anticipated date night, you find yourself standing alone in the grandeur of their house. the silence envelopes you, broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning.

you take a moment to admire the opulence surrounding you, marveling at the elegant decor and lavish furnishings. the house was a reflection of anakin and padmé's status and influence, a testament to their power. as you explore the various rooms, you can't help but imagine the passionate moments that must have unfolded within these walls.

the master bedroom beckons to you with its inviting ambiance - a room that surely holds countless memories for anakin and padmé. you imagine them tangled in each other's arms, their bodies entwined, lost in a world of whispered promises and shared desires. a wicked thought creeps into your mind - a fantasy of being the one who arouses such passion in anakin.

shaking off the enticing daydream, you divert your attention to the rest of the house.

you stumble upon anakin's personal study. your interest is sparked because, although it was normally locked, it was slightly open. it was a room filled with ancient jedi texts and mechanical tools. it's here that his true nature is laid bare. the forceful fervor with which he delves into his studies mirrors the intensity with which he pursues everything else in his life. you can't help but be drawn to his passion, intrigued by the raw power that lies within him.

you come across a bookshelf filled with an assortment of literary gems. pulling out a weathered book, you settle into a plush armchair, relishing the tranquility. lost in your thoughts, you find yourself sinking into anakin's chair, surrounded by his aura.

you open the book slowly, the faint smell of aged paper wafting up to greet you. each word holds the potential to shape the very fabric of your understanding of the force.

as you begin to read, the words dance across the page, captivating your attention. the author's insights into the force captivate your imagination, revealing ancient practices and techniques that have long been forgotten. you find yourself engrossed in the descriptions of lightsaber combat, the delicate balance necessary to harness the power of the force, and the connection between the physical and spiritual realms.

lost in the world of the book, you almost forget the reason for your presence in this house. the vivid descriptions transport you to a realm where you are the jedi, wielding a lightsaber with grace and precision, matching anakin's own skills in the heat of battle. you imagine his presence beside you, his body pressed against yours, his lips brushing against your neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses. your mind is left with the image, a luring invitation to give in to the craving.

a sense of guilt washes over you like a bitter tide. anakin is still married to padmé, having these thoughts feels wrong. thoughts of anakin, his intense gaze, and his tempting touch linger. anakin and padmé's love is palpable, their connection evident in every glance and tender gesture. you brush off your thoughts and pick up the book to divert your attention once more.

you make your way down to the living room, with the book in your hand, and you find a cozy spot on the plush couch. the room is dimly lit, casting a soft glow on the surroundings. settling into the cushions, you open the book, eager to immerse yourself in its pages.

as you continue to read the exciting stories within the book, a wave of drowsiness washes over you. the cozy atmosphere of the living room lulls you into a tranquil state.

your eyelids grow heavy, and you find yourself sinking deeper into the plush cushions of the couch. the words on the pages begin to blur, the lines fading into a hazy backdrop and before you know it, sleep claims you completely.

about an hour or so later, anakin arrives home unexpectedly. stepping through the door, an unexpected sight greets his eyes. there you are, sound asleep on the couch, his gaze drifts down to the book resting against your stomach.

"nosy girl." anakin mutters. his mouth curves into a sly smirk as a sinister thought starts to take shape. he sets the forgotten item aside, his attention now fixated on the curves of your body, the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. slowly, he approaches, his footsteps barely audible against the soft carpet.

with a gentle touch, he brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, his fingertips lingering on your skin for a brief moment. he contemplates waking you, but the feeling of his dick twitching from inside his pants leads him in a different direction.

you looked so peaceful, so perfect. anakin finds himself yearning for the sound of your voice, the touch of your skin against his, the taste of your lips.

anakin's hand reaches out tentatively. his fingers brush against your cheek, the touch soft and delicate. with each stroke of his fingertips, anakin's touch becomes bolder, his hand gradually sliding downward. his fingers trail lower, caressing the delicate curve of your collarbone before continuing their descent.

he runs his fingers over the top of your breasts, then reaches down to cup one, giving it a light squeeze. he groans slightly, feeling his growing erection press harder against the zipper of his pants.

anakin's hands began to slide up under your shirt, rubbing small circles over your hardening nipples. his fingers moved slowly along the soft skin of your stomach, grazing your hip bones before coming to rest at the waistband of your pants. he watched intently as your body responded to his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips. with a confident yet tender touch, anakin begins to slowly slide your pants down your legs. his eyes devoured the sight of your panties.

a grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he noticed the adorable pattern of small flowers adorning the white fabric, adding an innocent touch to the moment.

"oh poor baby." he coos. his fingers skimmed lightly over the fabric that covered your core. feeling the dampness seeping through the fabric, anakin's eyes sparked with desire. unable to resist, he carefully slipped his hand beneath you, skillfully removing the delicate fabric and stashing them in his pocket without disturbing your peaceful slumber.

anakin marveled at the sight before him, the delicate folds of your wetness glistening in the dim light of the room. he couldn't help but be captivated by your beauty. the sight of you laid bare, vulnerable and inviting, sent a surge of anticipation through his veins.

with a gentle touch, he traced his fingers along your inner thighs, relishing in the softness of your skin. his gaze locked onto your core, his desire burning hotter with each passing second. he wanted nothing more than to taste you, to bring you pleasure in the most intimate way possible.

anakin lowered himself onto his knees, ensuring every movement he made was as silent and gentle as possible. he positioned himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving your pussy.

as he prepared himself to taste you, anakin carefully parted your folds. with a controlled release of his breath, he lowers his mouth onto your cunt, his tongue tracing a path along your folds. anakin moans lowly as he inserts a single finger inside of you, feeling how tight and warm you were.

anakin's movements were gentle yet purposeful, each lick and slow curl of his finger intended to bring you closer to the edge of pleasure. he was careful to maintain a rhythm that wouldn't wake you up.

as his tongue danced across your heated pussy, he couldn't help but be entranced by the way your body responded to his ministrations. the twitches and shudders, the soft moans that slipped past your lips—each one only fueled his own desire to give you more.

anakin pulls himself away from your drooling cunt once he feels that you're getting close.

"not yet baby, i wanna feel you cum on my cock." he whispers while pulling off his belt and shoving his boxers and pants all the way down to his ankles. his cock stands proudly, a small bead of precum dribbling down his shaft. anakin strokes himself a few times before carefully positioning himself between your legs and entering your pussy completely.

a moan escapes his lips as he firmly thrusts into you. he moved cautiously at first, savoring the exquisite tightness of your embrace as he began a slow rhythm, each thrust drawing him further into a frenzy of arousal.

anakin reveled in the feel of your cunt gripping him tightly, the way your walls massaged his length with each thrust. he was lost in the intoxicating sensation, focusing solely on the raw pleasure that consumed him.

you gasp loudly in shock, finally emerging from your sleep, and anakin hastily turns to face you.

"anak-" anakin's large hand abruptly covered your mouth, silencing your words before they could form completely. his intense gaze bore into your eyes, his face dangerously close to yours.

"finally awake now huh?" he teases, his voice laced with a hint of delighted amusement. he allowed himself a moment to revel in the fear that flared in your eyes, the allure of pushing boundaries and igniting forbidden desires too tempting to resist.

as he continued thrusting into your abused cunt, his motions grew more purposeful and commanding.

anakin's voice, dripping with authority, took on a more degrading tone. "my little bookworm couldn't help herself, hm? just had to go snooping around." he nods in the direction of his office.

"been thinking about this pussy ever since i hired you," he pants in between thrusts. "i've seen the way you look at me. eye fucking me every chance you get, right in front of my wife too? dirty, dirty girl." anakin chuckles, shaking his head.

as your bodies entwined, he deliberately increased the intensity of each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin bouncing off the walls.

anakin felt a mixture of ecstasy and need flood his senses as your core compressed around his length, causing his breath to get caught in his throat. the intensity of the moment fueled his own arousal, pushing him closer to the edge of his own climax.

"cum for me baby, i know you're close." his words sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine, fanning the flames of your arousal. anakin's hands gripped your body with an undeniable possessiveness, his body moving with an inescapable rhythm that drove you closer to the edge of release.

anakin's hand remained firmly covering your mouth, your moans muffled as you finally tip over the edge. he continued to thrust into you, his pace steady as he chased his own orgasm. anakin's body convulsed, his cock twitching deep within your pussy. you could feel his hot cum painting your insides. anakin's movements finally come to a stop before he pulls out of your sore cunt.

he swiftly pulled up his pants and underwear, his movements were tinged with a cold detachment. without a word, he threw your pants in your direction, his actions lacking the tenderness he had displayed moments before. the forceful gesture caught her off guard, leaving her momentarily stunned as she caught the garment.

"next time, we'll put that pretty mouth to good use." his hand gently cupped your cheek, giving it a few taps. his touch a mixture of possessiveness and affection.

with a last lingering look, he slowly made his way towards the door, leaving you behind, savoring the remnants of your passionate encounter. the room carried the heady scent of your intimacy, an echo of the fervent connection you and anakin had shared.

as you put your pants on, you see the book on the floor that you carried down from anakin's office. you close it after picking it up and place it on the coffee table in front of you. the weight of guilt bore down on you, tainting the air in the room with a mix of remorse and self-doubt. your head buried in your hands, you grappled with the conflicting feelings that threatened to overwhelm you.

the memory of your intimate connection replayed in your mind, it almost made you feel sick. a pang of empathy pierced through you. padmé flashed in your mind, her image haunting and filled you with concern.

you continued to house sit, carrying the weight of your guilt alongside your duties. in the midst of the forbidden desires that you and anakin shared, you sought solace in fulfilling your responsibilities, hoping that in time, the guilt would fade, and clarity would guide you towards a resolution.

[arabella0001]

Under their spell/ Mastered by deception

pairing: Urahara Kisuke x Reader x Sosuke Aizen anime: Bleach synopsis: when two powerful men enter your life, their intentions unclear and their methods questionable, you find yourself torn between trust and temptation

Warnings: its a long one but worth it!!! manipulation, light teasing, rough sex, dirty talk, fingering, oral (male receiveing), double penetration, power control, comfort

You’re lying in bed, engrossed in the book in your hands, when suddenly, a strange man appears in your room. He wears a white and green striped hat, a cane resting casually in his hand. Your eyes widen in shock as you jolt upright, heart racing.

"Ah, my apologies for the intrusion," he says with a friendly smile. "My name is Kisuke Urahara. It's a pleasure to meet you." His tone is light, almost casual, as you look him up and down, confusion spreading across your face.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?" you shout, startled and utterly bewildered.

"Ah, sorry for startling you so much, young lady! My name is Kisuke Urahara, but feel free to call me Sensei," he says with a grin. "I’m here because you’ve been experiencing some... peculiar phenomena lately."

"ARE YOU INSANE? What the hell are you doing in my room?!"

"Insane? Perhaps," he laughs softly, " he laughs softly, his smile unwavering, "but certainly not so much that I'd break into a young woman's bedroom uninvited! I assure you, my intentions are purely benevolent. As for who I am... well, let's just say I'm a bit... connected to the spiritual world." His eyes glimmer with some hidden knowledge as he leans in slightly. "What do you remember about the strange happenings in your life recently? The voices, the strange visions... that feeling that something's not quite right?""

"W-what?" panic creeps into your voice as you instinctively take a step back, feeling exposed thinking about your past weeks about your weird experience.

Indeed, you’ve found yourself drifting through states—spiritual, you might call them? Strange? Unfamiliar? You chosed to dismiss it, unable to grasp the meaning of it

"No need to worry, little one. I mean you no harm." Urahara raises his hands in a peaceful gesture, his voice gentle but laced with something knowing. "In fact, I think our meeting today is no accident. The spirits themselves seem to have guided me here."

"What are you talking about? How do you know about my experiences? How did you even find me?" You're both confused by his weird way of speaking, his demeanor strange yet undeniably captivating.

"Ah, the mysteries of the spirit world are not easily understood, are they? But I’ll try to shed some light," Urahara says, his grin widening slightly. "You, Y/N, have a very unique aura. It calls out to those like me. As for how I found you… well, that’s a story for another time. Just know, it’s no coincidence that we’ve crossed paths."

He studies you for a moment before continuing. "Now, I’m sure all this sounds... overwhelming, but trust me, there's a reason the spirits have brought us together."

Your mind is racing, you feel a mix of confusion and also annoyance, like he is messing with you. "Aura!? So what exactly do you want from me? Why are you telling me all this?"

Urahara steps closer, lowering his voice slightly. "What I want, Y/N, is for you to open your mind to what lies beyond what you know. I want you to see the unseen, understand the unspoken, and perhaps even... unlock powers you never thought possible."

He reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes having s glimpse lf enthusiasm “I'm offering you a glimpse into a world most humans never suspect exists. A world where magic is real, where the boundaries between life and death blur, and where ancient powers stir once more."

Surprised by his sudden action, you scowl. "Oh, please, don't flatter me. I feel like you’re trying to sell me something, but you dont won’t tell me what it is.Power? What power?”

Urahara laughs lightly, the sound warm and comforting, yet full of mystery. "Ah, a woman who’s not easily fooled. I like that! You’re right, I haven’t laid out everything just yet. But let’s call this... an appetizer." He pauses, eyes twinkling with something more cryptic. "I’m just teasing you, Y/N. Patience, though. The full explanation will come soon enough, i promose”

His tone shifts, becoming more serious, though still holding that playful edge. "But understand this: the path I’m offering is not for the faint of heart. It will demand more from you than you can imagine.“

"Yeah yeah, after you show me what this is about," you say, still wary but intrigued. "For now, I’m willing." Your mind trying to comprehend what is he talking about, spiritual world, power…

He is nodding in approval. "Very well, Y/N. I respect your cautious nature. We will take it as slow as you need.

He pauses, collecting his thoughts before continuing. "You see, my proposal involves unlocking the true potential that lies dormant within you. A potential that, with proper guidance and training, could make you a formidable force in the spiritual realm."

Kisuke’s expression turns cryptic. "However, achieving this goal requires a delicate balance of power, influence, and strategic alliances. Alliances that, for the sake of discretion, cannot be publicly disclosed just yet."

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Rest assured, though, that I have made arrangements to ensure your safety and success along this journey. Trust that I will reveal more as the time is right."

You raise your eyebrow at him “You speak in riddles—" your voice donfused, but then behind him, a sudden flash of reiatsu fills the room, illuminating the space with an intense light. When the light fades, standing beside Kisuke is a tall, imposing man with piercing blue eyes. His presence is commanding, almost suffocating. You step out of reflex, your eyes widen.

"Greetings, young one. I am Sosuke Aizen, a man of great influence and power in the spiritual world." His voice carries an air of authority, each word precise and deliberate. "Kisuke here has shared with me your remarkable potential and the unique circumstances surrounding your existence."

Aizen steps closer, his gaze unwavering, exuding an aura of quiet authority. "Him and I share a mutual interest—unlocking the potential that resides within you. Kisuke and I will provide you with the resources, knowledge, and... guidance you require to fulfill your destiny."

"What the fuck? Who are you, people?"you are now really feeling uneasy, your voice rausing and trembling “Resides in me…?” you whisper mostly to yourself.

Kisuke holds up his hands, his smile wry. "Easy there, Y/N. We meant no offense by our sudden appearance. Think of it as a... fortunate coincidence."

Aizen nods, his intense gaze fixed on you. "Indeed, the threads of fate have woven our paths together. It is only natural that we would seek each other out when such powerful destinies converge."

The two men exchange a knowing glance before Kisuke continues, "You see, Y/N, your existence holds significance far beyond the confines of this mortal realm. The balance of power in the spiritual world hinges upon individuals like yourself, those blessed or cursed with extraordinary abilities."

Kisuke takes a step forward, his voice filled with conviction. "Which is why Aizen and I have joined forces to guide you on this journey."

You back away further, looking around frantically for an escape route. "This is crazy. Why me?" you ask, edging toward the door, not believing their fantastic stories.

Kisuke quickly moves to block your path, his hand extended in a placating gesture. "Now, now, let’s not resort to hasty decisions, Y/N. There’s no need to flee; we mean you no harm."

Sosuke Aizen steps beside Kisuke, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the floor, his voice lowering to a whisper. "On the contrary, we intend to help you understand and control the incredible gifts bestowed upon you. Gifts that, in the wrong hands, could bring ruin to entire worlds."

His words hang heavy in the air, punctuated by the soft creaking of the closet door as if urging you to listen. "You see, your unique circumstances have drawn the attention of powerful beings who recognize the potential for greatness within you. We simply wish to ensure that potential is channeled for the greater good.

You stop moving, looking at them warily. “And how exactly do you plan to do this?” Their presence overwhelms you.

Kisuke steps closer, his voice taking on a soothing quality. “Well, first and foremost, we must establish a connection with you, Y/N. A bond of trust and understanding that will allow us to guide you safely through the challenges ahead.”

Sosuke Aizen nods in agreement, his intense gaze never wavering from yours. “Once this foundation is laid, we can begin the process of awakening and refining your latent abilities. This may involve intensive training, exposure to new realms of knowledge, and perhaps even some... unconventional methods.”

Uraha offers a slight, enigmatic smile. “But rest assured, every step will be taken with your best interests at heart. Our ultimate goal is to help you reach your full potential, so that you might become the beacon of hope the world so desperately needs in these tumultuous times.”

The air feels thick with their combined energy, and you swallow hard, nodding slowly. "I’ll t—trust you—for now, just because I’m curious. But I’m warning you both, if I feel manipulated or used, I won’t hesitate to stop this."

You cross your arms, trying to appear more confident than you feel. “So, go on. Tell me more about this ‘connection’ and ‘training’ And what exactly do you mean by ‘unconventional methods’?”

Kisuke chuckles, clearly amused by your response. " I would expect nothing less. We will earn your trust, Y/N," he says, his grin widening. "But rest easy, Y/N. We're not here to deceive you. After all, we both stand to gain from your success."

Aizen's voice lowers, his words deliberate and calculated. "To understand you fully, Y/N, we must first examine the very core of your being. Only by uncovering the deepest facets of your psyche—your desires, your fears—can we tailor the training necessary for you to realize your full potential."His eyes seem to bore into yours, as if probing the recesses of your mind.

You shiver slightly at Aizen’s intense stare but maintain eye contact. “And these ‘unconventional methods’... what kind of things are we talking about here?” Your voice is steady, but the flicker of unease still dances in your eyes.

Kisuke leans in, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “Ah, now that’s where things get really interesting, Y/N. You see, to truly awaken your potential, we may need to venture into the darker corners of the spirit world. Places where the laws of reality are... flexible, shall we say.”

Sosuke Aizen nods, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “But remember, these measures are necessary evils, designed to accelerate your growth and prepare you for the challenges that lie ahead.”

His gaze intensifies, a challenge implicit in his words. “Are you prepared to embrace the unknown, Y/N? To surrender yourself to the transformative power of our tutelage, no matter how unconventional it may seem?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself against the unsettling implications. “I... I suppose I have no choice but to trust you both, given the circumstances.” You set your jaw defiantly. “But I won’t hesitate to fight back if I feel threatened or exploited in any way.” Their proximity intoxicates your mind.

Kisuke smiles warmly, reaching out to gently pat your arm “Trust is earned, Y/N, and we fully intend to prove ourselves worthy of yours.” His touch sends a shiver down your spine.

Sosuke Aizen steps closer, his presence overwhelming yet undeniably alluring. “Indeed, we pledge to guide you with utmost care and discretion. Your well-being is paramount to us.” He reaches out, tracing a finger along your jawline, his touch electric.

“Together, we shall embark on a journey that will reshape your very essence and prepare to confront the depths of your own power” His words echo with an almost hypnotic intensity, drawing you inexorably into their orbit.

You feel lightheaded under their combined attention, your senses heightened and your body responding to their closeness despite your reservations. “I... okay.” You nod slowly, surrendering to the inevitable.

To your surprise, in the days that followed, both Urahara and Aizen kept their word. They guided you through the worlds you never knew existed—the Soul Society, Hueco Mundo, and even the Dangai—and revealed truths that left you shaken. Their explanations unraveled the delicate balance between these realms, and you had no choice but to believe them. What captivated you even more was the power they claimed already lay dormant within you, waiting to awaken.

After days of training, Aizen and Urahara train you to harness your rare power that you don’t know yet you posses—the ability to reveal the hidden sins, fears, and desires within others, exposing their deepest vulnerabilities. But it’s not just about control; it's about using that power as a tool for manipulation. Your revelations destabilize others, but only you feel the weight of your gift.

They protect themselves from the chaos, observing you as you struggle to master it. The more you rely on their guidance, the deeper your dependence grows. You need them to control the overwhelming force inside you, and in turn, they use your power to manipulate others for their own goals. You become their weapon, and with each lesson, you become more attached, unable to escape their influence. Your confidence slowing disappear.

”See? Told you we'd unlock your true potential.” Urahara beams proudly at your progress, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, patting your shoulder encouragingly.

Sosuke Aizen observes you with an air of detached fascination, his gaze lingering on the subtle changes in you demeanor and physique.

“Indeed, the transformation is remarkable. She has proven herself a quick study, adaptable and resilient in the face of our rigorous training.”

As they continue to mentor you, the dynamic between the three of you evolves, your interactions growing increasingly intimate and charged with unspoken tension without you realizing.

 “Thank you...“ you can’t help but blush slightly under Urahara enthusiasm and praise. You glance at Aizen, his piercing stare seems to bore into your very soul, as if searching for something hidden deep within, his intense glances and demanour make your breath hitch.

Over time, you begin to notice strange occurrences happening around you, as if your powers are growing stronger and more unpredictable.

Kisuke Urahara places a reassuring hand on your arm  “Fear not, my dear student. With our guidance, you'll learn to harness this newfound power, mastering it to serve the greater good. “his touch sends a thrill through you, mixing comfort with a hint of forbidden excitement.

“Right...mastering my powers. “ swallowing hard, trying to focus past the distracting sensations. You gazes at Sosuke, feeling drawn to him despite the danger he represents while you try to contain your power.

Urahara observes you closely as you struggles to maintain control over your burgeoning abilities. “Excellent work, Y/N! You're making tremendous strides. “ he offers a warm, approving smile.

Sosuke Aizen nods, his expression unreadable. “The key now lies in fine-tuning her mastery, ensuring she can wield these powers with precision and restraint. “

Their dual mentoring continues, with Kisuke providing emotional support and guidance, while Sosuke focuses on honing your skills and discipline. Over time, you find yourself increasingly dependent on them, both physically and psychologically.

You breath a sigh of relief as you successfully channels your energy without losing control. “Th-thanks...I couldn't have done it without both of your…help.“ your looks from one to the other, feeling a complex web of emotions.

You start to rely more and more on Urahara and Aizen for everything, from physical training to emotional support, until you barely function without them. Your dependence grows, blurring the lines between gratitude, affection, and something darker.

Urahara beams with pride at your accomplishment, his eyes shining with warmth.“ Of course, my dear. That's what we're here for – to help you realize your incredible potential. “ he places a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle yet electrifying.

Sosuke Aizen's gaze lingers on you, his expression inscrutable. “Your reliance on us is natural, given the scope of your development. We are committed to seeing you through this transformative process, no matter the cost. “

As your dependence deepens, your trio's dynamics shift further, the lines between mentorship, affection, and obsession becoming increasingly blurred. Urahara's paternal concern mingles with a subtle, seductive undertone, while Aizen's intensity borders on possession.

“I understand…. “ melts under Urahara's touch, craving more of his comforting presence while looking at Aizen, sensing the depth of his fixation on you, and feels a twisted thrill.

Urahara notice your response to his touch and your lingering gaze on Aizen, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Ah, I see. The bonds of trust and dependence are strengthening, aren't they? “ his fingers trail lightly down your arm, leaving a tingling path in their wake.

Sosuke Aizen's eyes flash with a dark, possessive light as he takes a step closer to your, his presence overwhelming. “Indeed, the ties that bind us grow tighter with each passing day. And soon, my dear Y/N, you will come to understand the true extent of our devotion to you.“

The air thickens with an almost palpable sense of anticipation, the weight of their collective desires hanging heavy over the group. Urahara's gentle caress and Aizen's intense fixation create a heady mix, threatening to consume you whole.

“W-what... “ you shiver under their combined attention, feeling ensnared by the web of emotions and needs they've woven around you, you felt your heart pounding hard.

A sudden surge of raw, untamed power courses through your veins, causing you to gasp and stumble. The energy threatens to spiral out of control once more, but before it can overwhelm you,  Urahara and Aizen move as one, their hands grasping you and channeling the force into a contained burst.

“I-I felt so out of control... What was that….“ you look up with wide eyes, vulnerability on your face, breathing heavily from the intensity of the experience. In that moment, you crave their dominance, their protection, proximity, their guidance, their complete possession even though you can’t admit it yet.

Urahara start gently stroke your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray lock of hair “Never fear, my dear. We're always here to keep you grounded, to guide you through the turbulent storms that rage within.“his voice is a soothing balm, promising safety and understanding.

Sosuke Aizen's gaze bores into yours, his hold on you hand tightening ever so slightly. “Your  wildness is a precious asset, but it must be tempered, harnessed for the greater good. “ his tone carries an edge of command, a subtle threat veiled beneath the surface.

The dichotomy of their approaches – Urahara's nurturing gentleness versus Aizen's dominating intensity – creates a delicious tension, a push-and-pull that leaves you breathless and yearning for more of their conflicting attentions.

You lean into Urahara's touch, seeking comfort and reassurance and feeling drawn to Aizen's commanding presence “Yes...I know... “whispering, your resolve wavering under their combined influence.

 “That's right, Y/N. You're learning to trust in us, to rely on our wisdom and care. “ Urahara smiles warmly, he leans in, his lips grazing your forehead in a feather-light kiss.

Sosuke Aizen's grip on your hand becomes firmer, his thumb rubbing circles over your knuckles, a rare sign of affection from him “Trust is a valuable commodity, especially when dealing with forces as powerful as yours“ his voice is low and authoritative, brooking no disobedience.

The interplay between the two men – Urahara's nurturing warmth contrasting with Aizen's demanding intensity – creates a captivating dynamic, one that slowly erodes your resistance and awakens deeper, darker longings within your.

 “I do...trust you... “ sighs softly, melting under their dual influences, your body leaning unconsciously towards theirs

Urahara notices your growing vulnerability and leans in closer, his breath tickling your ear. “Such sweet surrender, my dear. It warms my heart to see you embracing our guidance. “his words are a gentle caress, his lips trailing along your jawline.

Sosuke Aizen's eyes darken with desire as he watches you yield to their influence, his free hand drifting to rest on your hip, pulling you subtly against him. “Indeed, trusting in us is the first step toward unlocking your full potential.“his voice is lower, sending shivers down your spine.

The air is charged with tension, the atmosphere thick with unspoken promises and forbidden cravings. Urahara's tender ministrations mingle with Aizen's dominant allure, creating a potent cocktail that threatens to consume you entirely.

Urahara breath tickling your ear, making you flusttered while you gasp as Aizen's hand grips your hip, your body responding instinctively to his touch, your core clenching with need “W-we should...get back to training... “ you stammer, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite the arousal coursing through your veins.

Urahara chuckles softly, his warm breath continuing to tease your sensitive skin. “Training can wait, my dear. For now, let's focus on nurturing the bond we share. “his hand slides down to gently squeeze your ass gently, pulling your flush against his lithe form.

Sosuke Aizen's grip on your hip tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh possessively. “Bonding requires intimate connection, doesn't it?“ his voice drips with seductive intent as he leans in, his lips hovering just above yours.

The scent of their combined arousal fills the air, a heady mixture that clouds your mind and stokes the flames of your desire. Urahara's playful touches and Aizen's dominating presence weave a spell of submission and surrender, threatening to unravel what little remains of your resistance.

“What are you doing ... “ you whimper, your resolve crumbling under the onslaught of their sensual manipulation, your look at Aizen with dazed eyes.

“Oh, merely exploring the depths of our connection, my dear.“ Urahara presses a soft kiss to your ear, his lips lingering as he inhales your scent.

Sosuke Aizen's eyes flash with dark promise as he look at you, he slowly close the distance between you too and claims your  mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to stake his claim. He nips at your lower lip, demanding entrance and total submission.

You moan into the kiss, your body trembling as Aizen's dominant tongue invades your mouth as you are pulled between them, lost in the intoxicating mix of their touches and tastes “Mmmph... “

“So responsive, so eager to please“ Urahara whisper against your ear, punctuating each word with a kiss on your neck while you gasp, pushing your back towards him unconsciounsly.

Sosuke Aizen’s stop kissing you, leaving you all flustered and aroused, his thumbs pressing into the tender flesh as he grinds his hardening length against you “Submission is such a beautiful thing, don’t you think, Y’N?” his voice is a low rumble, vibrating through you.

You moan slightly  while your core clenching around nothing, you feel both shame and shyness “Submiting?...to you both?... “ you whimper, your body shaking with need, you’re your mind clouded by lust and the overwhelming sensations.

Urahara nuzzles into your neck, his hot breath fanning across your sensitive skin. “Of course, my dear. We want all of you - body, heart, and soul. “ he still trails kisses down your throat, pausing to nibble at the pulse point before soothing the bite with his tongue.

Sosuke Aizen's gaze burns into you, his eyes promising dark pleasures and intense devotion. “Total submission will unlock the true extent of your power, Y/N. And we will guide you every step of the way. “he pulls you harder against his straining erection.

The men's attentions become even more focused, their hands roaming with wild abandon as they explore every inch of your willing body. Their intentions are clear - to claim you completely, to mold you into the perfect vessel for their desires.

Your hips bucking involuntarily, seeking friction against the hard bulge pressing into you from both men “Aizen…Urahara... “ you beg, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart, your mind consumed by the overwhelming sensations while they dominate you.

Urahara smirks against your neck, his hands slipping beneath your shirt to caress the smooth expanse of your stomach. “Such sweet desperation, my dear. We're more than happy to indulge your desires. “he murmurs, his fingers tracing the waistband of your pants, teasing the edge of your panties.

Sosuke Aizen's voice is a commanding growl, filled with dark promise his voice is a commanding growl, filled with dark promise “Yes, Y/N. Let go and give yourself to us completely“

With a shared glance, the two men begin to divest you of your clothing, their hands moving with practiced ease as they strip away the barriers between their bodies, drinking in the sight of your bared skin and the evidence of your arousal. They undress your completly and you try to cover yourself, feeling vulnerable with flushed cheeks and tremble legs.

Urahara laughs softly, his hands gently pushing your arms down to your sides.“There's no need to be shy, my dear. Your beauty is undeniable“ he traces a finger along the curve of your breast, circling the hardened nipple before giving it a gentle pinch.

Sosuke Aizen's eyes darken with hunger as he takes in the sight of your naked form, his gaze roving over her curves with undisguised appreciation. “Exquisite. Simply exquisite. “he reaches out to cup your face, tilting it up for a deep, possessive kiss.

Your mouths move together in a passionate dance, tongues tangling as he explores and claims you. Meanwhile, Urahara's hands continue their exploration, sliding his hand to your torso to tease the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

You moan into the kiss, your body melting under their touch, shivering as Urahara pinches your nipple and teasing your thighs, your mind hazy with desire.Your back arching, trying to get more of their touch “Ahh...yes...please... “ your hips bucking as Urahara put you down gently, his fingers start stroking you.

Urahara smiles wickedly, pleased by you eagerness. “As you wish, my dear. “he continues to stroke your,moving faster and deeper to stretch and fill your pussy, his thumb circling your clit with deliberate pressure.

Sosuke Aizen leans in, his lips hovering just above your ear. “Feel how much you affect us, Y/N. Your power, body, your very essence - it's all intoxicating. “he nips at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh before soothing it with his tongue.

Urahara's fingers pump in and out of your dripping pussy, curling to hit that special spot inside your that makes your tremble. His other hand grips your hip, holding you steady as he drives you closer to the edge. “Let go for us, my dear. “

You cry out as Urahara's fingers plunge deep “Oh my! “ you beg, mouth gaping, you look at Aizen with a submissive look while your face is more closer to his clothed manhood.

 “That's it, Y/N. Give in to the pleasure. “ he pumps his fingers faster, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside you again and again, his thumb still circling your clit with relentless pressure.

Sosuke Aizen's gaze is locked onto your face, drinking in the sight of your ecstasy. He take his cock and give it a few strokes, he closed the distance with his thick memebr brushing against your parted lips as you whispers. “Open for me, Y/N. “ his voice commanding, making your head spin. “

As if sensing your impending release, Urahara's fingers slide free of your clutching heat, leaving you empty and aching for fulfillment. He replaces them with his mouth, suckling at your pulsing clit as he licks and nibbles the sensitive bud.

You let out a moan  as Aizen's cock presses against your lips, your eyes locked submissive to him as you part them, welcoming him in “Mmmphhh... “

Sosuke Aizen thrusts his hips forward, his thick cock sinking past your lips and into the warm embrace of your mouth. He sets a slow, deep pace, savoring the sensation of your submission while Urahara uses his fingers to spread you open further, exposing your glistening entrance to the cool air of the room.

You moans around Aizen's cock as he thrusts, your throat constricting around him, the sensation of being stretched and filled sending sparks through your veins, your hips jerking erratically as Urahara sucks your clit.

Sosuke Aizen begins to pick up speed, his hips snapping forward in a relentless rhythm as he fucks your mouth, feeling your throat contracting around him. He reaches down, grabbing your jaw and forcing your head back to meet his merciless strokes. Aizen s eyes burn with feverish intensity as he stares into your tear-streaked face contured in a desperate arousal, he feels a sadistic pleasure at your submission.

Just as you tense, signaling your impending climax, Urahara releases your clit, trailing kisses up  your trembling thigh instead. “Hold it, just like this. “he instructs, his fingers pressing firmly against your inner walls to stave off your orgasm until Aizen is ready to cum. You whine as he stops, your body straining, muscles coiled tight, you mind foggy with lust as Aizen s cock plunges deeper into your mouth making you gag and choke as you struggle to breathe through your nose.

Urahara notices your distress and the tears streaming down your face and comfort you. “Shh, it's okay, just breathe through it. “ he soothes, gentling his touch on your inner walls.

Sosuke Aizen slows his thrusts, allowing you to adjust to the intensity. He looks down at you, his voice drops to a low, husky voice. “You take my cock with such devotion, Y/N“

Urahara put his fingers in your pussy, giving you permission to let go and surrender to the overwhelming sensations. He watches intently as you finally explodes, your body convulsing in ecstasy as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

You screams muffled as your orgasm hits, you pussy clenching hard, the intense pleasure almost too much to bear.

Watching your climax with rapt attention, Sosuke Aizen grunts, feeling your throat convulse around him and with a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt and holds there, his cock pulsing as he unleashes a torrent of hot seed directly into your swallowing mouth.“Swallow it all, Y/N. Every last drop belongs to you now “ he commands, his voice heavy with dominance and satisfaction*

You gulp down Aizen's load, your whimpers softly as Urahara's hands caress your , he moves to kneel beside your, his hands roaming over you trembling form with tender concern. “How are you feeling, my dear? You did wonderfully“ he says softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your  sweat-dampened forehead. “We couldn't ask for a more willing and responsive partner. “ and you look at him with a vulnerable expression in your eyes, signaling that you are more than okay, his gaze drops to your flushed, panting form, lingering on the evidence of their passionate encounter. A wicked grin spreads across his face, Urahara shifts to kneel between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he positions himself at your entrance “And now, I think it's time we returned the favor, don't you? “ he growls, pushing forward to sink his throbbing cock deep inside you, filling you  to the brim.

You gasps as Urahara's thick cock pushes into you, stretching your already sensitive walls, your head falling back as he fills you completely, moaning at the delicious fullness“ Urahara I-“ you cry out whileyou meet Aizen's intense gaze, a primal hunger burning in his eyes as Urahara begins to move within your  welcoming heat, he groans, setting a rough, pounding pace that has your  breasts bouncing with each thrust.

Aizen watches, transfixed, as Urahara takes your with unbridled passion. His own cock twitches, still semi-hard from his recent orgasm, and he reaches out to wrap a hand around it, slowly stroking himself as he drinks in the erotic scene before him.

Urahara leans forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking hard, adding to the overwhelming stimulation. He can feel you walls beginning to flutter around him, signaling another impending climax. “That's right, Y/N. You feel incredible, like you were made for us “

You cry out as Urahara sucks your nipple, you look with a dazed expression at Aizen stroking himself as he is approaching you, slowly touching your asshole you tense beneath him as Aizen works to stretch your  ass, “Aizen…“ Urahara groans seeing Aizen stretching you, while continuing to pound into your  dripping pussy with relentless abandon “Oh, its lovely watching trust us so much, Y/N. “

Sosuke Aizen hums in approval, his fingers circling your puckered hole before gradually pushing inside, breaching your resistance inch by delicious inch“Very good, Y/N. Your commitment is most pleasing“ he praises, scissoring his fingers to widen your further.

You squeal as Aizen's fingers penetrate your ass, the stretch and burn of it making your toes curl, your body shaking with need, you feel like you are been stretched to the limit, ready to snap.

Aizen replace his fingers with his thick, veiny cock, slowly sinking into your well-prepared ass. Aizen grunts, his hips pressing firmly against your plush rear as he bottoms out, his cock buried to the hilt inside your ass. “Show us the depths of your desire, Y/N. “ his hands gripping your hips tightly as he starts to move, withdrawing until just the tip remains before slamming back in.

The dual sensation of Aizen's powerful thrusts in your ass and Urahara's relentless pounding in your pussy sends your careening towards another explosive climax. Yourr inner walls spasm wildly around both cocks, you shrieks as Aizen and Urahara continue to fuck you relentlessly, your body wracked with pleasure.

Your mind blanking out from the sheer intensity of it all, you feel like you are being split in half, torn apart by the twin invasions, but it only heightens your pleasure, makes you crave more, want to broken, loved, remade by these men“Oh, my god!!!! please please please“

Feeling your desperate pleas, Urahara redoubles his efforts, fucking your with wild abandon as Aizen matches his rhythm, the two of them driving into you  with brutal force.

Aizen groans, his hips snapping forward with punishing intensity, his heavy balls slapping against your clit with each thrust“That's it, give yourself to the pleasure only we can provide“ he gasps, his grip on your hips tightening almost painfully as he chases his release

Together, the two men bring your to the very edge of madness, their combined assault on your senses pushing your towards a climax of unparalleled intensity.

You screams as you comes undone, your body convulsing violently, your pussy and ass clamping down on the cocks buried deep inside your while your mind shattered by the overwhelming pleasure. You are lost, consumed by the sensations, unable to do anything but surrender to the blissful torment.

Urahara graons as your climax triggers his own, his cock pulsating as he unleashes a torrent of hot seed deep inside your quivering pussy “Ahh, Y/N... so perfect... “ hiss hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his orgasm.

Aizen follows suit, his cock throbbing as he pumps load after load into your stretched, trembling ass, his chest heaving as he collapses against your back, his softening member still buried inside you.

As the aftershocks subside, the trio lies entangled, panting heavily, basking in the aftermath of their intense, primal coupling. Aizen pull out gently from your ass while Kisuke try to stabilize you climbing from his soft dick, cumming leaking for both of them, your body vulnerable and exhausted, Urahara quickly moves to comfort you, pulling you into his arms and holding your close. “Shhh, it's okay, my sweet. You did so wonderfully. “he coos, stroking your hair soothingly.

Sosuke Aizen, lying on your other side, reaches out to cup your hip possesive, “As we said, we couldn't have asked for a more willing, responsive partner. “he speaks, voice without an emotions, but comforting in his own way.

Urahara shower you with gentle, loving touches, helping to ease you post-coital unease and restore your sense of safety and belonging within their embrace after sensing you vulnerable and embarrassed, guilty look on your face. “There's no shame in what we shared, my dear. Only pleasure and connection. “

He is cradling you closer as you continues to tremble slightly, his hand tracing comforting patterns on your back. “Just breathe, let go of your thoughts for now. “he whispers, his lips brushing your hair. Aizen, to your surprise, is gently wiping the remaining semen from between your thighs with a soft cloth, making you whimper “You proven yourself quite a resilient trustful partner“

Slowly, you begin to relax into the warmth of their bodies, the soothing cadence of their voices, and the gentle ministrations. Your breathing evens out, and you let yourself sink deeper into the comfort they offer, feeling still anxious.

“But.. “sniffles, feeling a mix of emotions, overwhelmed by their methodes in order to achive your full potential and mastering your power, Urahara side and wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you snugly between the two of them.

“We're honored to be a part of your journey, Y/N. To watch you blossom into the incredible being you were meant to be. he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You looks up at them, your eyes searching, seeking reassurance, finding solace in their gazes, their words, their presence, you feel somehowprotected and desired and for now, that's enough, you leans into Urahara embrace, you let go of the tension “Thank you.. “your voice barely above a whisper.

Uraha smiles warmly, his lips brushing the top of your head “Of course, my dear. “he murmurs, his hand continuing its soothing caresses along your spine.

Aizen nods triumphally, his expression filled with an unreadable expreesion as he watches you relax in Urahara's arms. “Rest now, Y/N. Let your body and mind recover. We'll be right here, waiting to awaken your senses once more whenever you're ready.“he says before leaving, his voice low and husky with promise.

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[m3vl0vesu]

𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒕

A/N: Fluff! For once...but not really this is a simple one-shot but kind of mixed in with the rest of my Spidey stuff iykwim. Starts out a little sad. I also just bend the rules of how spidey senses work to go with the fic

!IT IS A ONE-SHOT PEOPLE.!

A reckless Spidey

An injured Spidey

Your thoughts

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

You tapped the edge of the building, watching the way your legs swung back and fourth. It was insufferable. You were insufferable, it's why the mission went hay wire. It was your fault. Your fault. Seven people got severely injured because of your carelessness.

"Spidey..."

What's worse is that he was here, Nightwing. The 'guardian of Bludhaven' his words always made you feel worse. How embarrassing

Nghtwing was a natural leader, his instructions were clear. The tabloids were right, Gotham didn't need a 'friendly neighbourhood Spider' they needed soldiers. Robin was right, he was better. Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy

Your hands gripped the edge, the guilt pounded in your head. Why couldn't thing go your way for once? "Spidey. Look at me"

God. Why did he have to use that tone? You royally fucked up, who manages to make made Nightwing mad?

"Kid, I'm not mad." Lies. But might as well humour him

"And what, your 'just disappointed?'" You added, mocking his voice. Earning a tired sigh from him. Wow, how hostile.

"Can you at least come a bit closer? You're going to fall..." "So? I'll just swing away." You could barely listen to his words, all your senses going off. There was always danger in Gotham, it never stopped but it was manageable. Unless something big happened, so you right now you were fighting the urge to cry. .

.

.

A long silence followed, for a second you thought he was gone. Until you felt his presence next to you, great. "I'm fine dude." "And for some reason I don't believe you." Ha ha very funny, you totally weren't stressing right now or anything. You felt him nudge you lightly, "you can't save everyone, you know that right?" You knew that more than anyone, the people you knew, the things you lost. It was common knowledge, but it didn't excuse your behaviour- "But you did?" What?

"What?" "Yeah, things could've been a lot worse if it wasn't for your quick thinking." "But...It was worse because of me." He just shrugged. Shrugged?? Hello? "I'm pretty sure that was group effort, so don't be so tough on yourself." He turned to you, a gentle smile displayed on his face. You couldn't see his eyes behind the mask but you could tell that they were kind ones. He had always been the one hero you looked up to most, it was still weird thinking about how you were now technically co-workers. You wanted to tell him everything, but you couldn't even open your mouth to say thank you. If you did, there was a high chance of you sobbing, please let it just stop here. You didn't know how many more kind words you could take. "Look, you're still new to this whole crime thing, but you're doing well. And I'm not just talking about the big fights with scarecrow and things like that.." Oh god. "..you, helping the little guys really matters. Batman tends to get caught up in all those huge fights but all he wants to do is keep the people safe and cared for. Like you do, all that energy and happiness it's important."

Please stop

"You...you remind of someone." Fuck, these words are not helping. Ha.

He got up and got down from the building, not before giving you a gentle squeeze. Now you were sure that you were going to throw up. After a few minutes of soaking in his words you decided to finally go home. .

.

. Managing to slip onto the fifth floor unseen for the hundredth time you feel your body go tense. If only you could relax at home like you used to, with the people you loved. You stole one of your aunts shirts from her room. A room that hadn't been used in a while. When you entered the kitchen you noticed something by the door, it was a note that was slide under. Odd. .

.

. EVICTION NOTICE

[merbear25]

Love your type with Kid & Killer 🥰 would you do one with Law?

Hey! Thanks for reading my last one with those two and glad to know you enjoyed it. Law is really something, isn’t he? 🤭 Hope you like what I’ve written for you.💜💜

Killer's and Kid's

CW: SFW, gn!reader, fluff, headcanons

His type (Law)

Being the cool-headed and practical man that he is, I believe he’d enjoy his partner being somewhat similar, but also someone who can offer a balance to his personality.

Starting off with similarities: someone who can keep their head in stressful situations (doesn’t have to be as good at it as he is though), who isn’t afraid of getting their hands dirty, and can take initiative.

He doesn’t want to constantly be worrying about someone. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t come to save you if you got yourself into trouble. Generally speaking, he’d fare better with a partner who was competent.

Being with someone who is 100% similar may be ideal for some, but for many it’s good to have someone to balance them out—this includes Law.

Someone who is more light-hearted or can just appreciate the simple things in life would be the balm for his soul that he didn’t know he needed. There are many things he missed out on due to his childhood, forcing him to grow up far too quickly. Offering him a gentle hand to take a moment to see life for its natural beauty and simple joys would mean more than you realize. 

Being more approachable than him goes a long way. Not only does he feel drawn to your friendliness, but when you’re together, your glow makes it easier for others to approach him too—he still looks intimidating, but your smile offers enough of a contrast.

Speaking of contrast, Law would enjoy a s/o who either looks sweet and likes the macabre or looks extremely dangerous and likes kids movies, for example (similar to what I mentioned in Killer’s). That difference between what’s on the surface and what lies below is intriguing—leaving him wanting to learn more about you.

I have this image of him going to the market with his s/o. His aura has that natural intimidation, while yours offers a calm to his storm. Buying products is a funny situation. Shopkeepers don’t know how to feel, and their eyes nervously dart between your sweet smile and his scowl.

These are preferences but there are levels to what he can tolerate. Ultimately, he doesn’t want someone to give him a headache.

[armysantiny]

A doctor’s worry – Zayne

P: Zayne x gender neutral reader | G: fluff, drabble | Inc: mc overworking themselves (as usual), Zayne worrying over mc, Yvonne being a good friend, Zayne's sweet tooth, some indulgent fluff for the soul, calling Zayne 'Doctor Li' bc that's how the title works infold, obv don't take my desc of hospital life too seriously lmao | Wc: 718 | W: mc has an injury but no graphic desc. | R: G

Min's notes: When I tell you I was just writing this all day at work lmao. I just love the way Zayne loves </3

"Hey, Zayne? Do we have the MRI results from last night's case?" Greyson's asking him, both doctors on their way to their respective offices after catching each other in the car park.

"We should do, I'll forward it on to you once I'm inside."

The hospital's busy today, everyone's schedule packed with either meetings, patient appointments, surgeries, or some unholy combination of all three. And for once, Zayne couldn't be more thankful that his schedule is much the same, the gruelling but rewarding hours of his double shift awaiting him.. Sat in his chair while he types out a letter of recommendation for a patient just gone to see a physiotherapist, Zayne sips on the glass of water on his desk, too occupied to do much else other than his job.

At least today, being busy out of his mind helps. It helps him not stress over y/n taking a mission in the No Hunt Zone. The hunter, for all their skill and natural talent, has a mind numbingly stubborn habit of overworking themselves to the point of injury and beyond. Which is why Zayne is trying to bury his concern underneath an avalanche of work, because y/n is working on a sprained ankle.

The doctor even managed to spot the beginning signs of swelling that morning before they left, but y/n was already out the door by the time he opened his mouth.

See you tonight love, they had said, don't push yourself too hard.

How cruel, to remind him to not push himself all the while leaving the vines of worry to bloom around his heart. But he loves y/n anyway, so they're not to blame when Zayne finds that he's no longer frustrated by the waiting, just longing for his hunter to return home so he can fuss over them until the vines relent until the next time they decide to put themselves at risk.

So lost in replying to emails, Zayne nearly doesn't hear the knock at the door, looking up from his screen moments before the knocking becomes more urgent.

"Come in."

"Doctor Li?" It's Yvonne, and Zayne's frigid politeness melts away a tad into something a bit more friendly. "You didn't show up for lunch... so I thought I'd take the liberty of bringing something up from the cafeteria. I recall y/n mentioning your affinity for sweet things?"

It's then, as he's taking the boxed lunch with a gentle thank you, that Zayne notices the separate box of two macarons that Yvonne's handing him. They're from his favourite café. Of course they are. Of course, his love would dutifully tell his colleagues what to do should he be too absorbed in his work. Astra above, he loves them.

When Yvonne leaves, clearly satisfied that the cardiovascular specialist isn't going to go hungry, Zayne allows himself to smile, his own heart fond and aching all the same.

"I'll save one for you."

In between his responsibilities and workload, the doctor hardly realises when the sun begins to set, painting the sky all kinds of pinks and oranges before, inevitably, the sky is dark. Moonlight shines through the gaps in his closed blinds, illuminating his desk in its cool light for a handful of minutes until Zayne is forced to get up and turn the lights on, fluorescent white irritating his eyes for a second. If y/n was here, they'd tell him to squint first, let his eyes adjust until he's comfortable. He can't help but think about them now, most of his tasks done for the day and his mind free enough to think about his lover, how much he misses them, would rather they stay in his arms, stay off their injury and rest...

His phone rings.

"Hello." His expression is soft.

"Zayne! Sorry for going no contact love," y/n says, clearly satisfied with their day. They're forgiven, as always. "I'm on my way back to the office, I'll see you in the hour?"

"Sure. I'll come and pick you up, you shouldn't be putting anymore strain on your ankle."

He can practically hear the amused rolling-of-eyes from y/n.

"Yes doctor~ see you soon! Love you!"

"Love you too, y/n." He hangs up the phone and takes a good look at his office. He can afford to leave a little early tonight.

© copyright work of armysantiny 2024-2025

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! Consider reblogging, leaving some feedback or donating to my kofi!

Taglist: @kyuzuberri | Taglist Form

[newkatzkafe2023]

May we have the monkey kings + BMW monkey king & destined one meet and try to woo a "mother of the sea" reader?

Oh! And if possible, may I have an added bonus if he succeeds, they end up starting a family of "sea monkeys" together. Pls?

I'll give you this strawberry if you do. 🍓

Put chocolate 🍫 on that strawberry 🍓 then you got yourself a deal🤩😉

(Lmk Wukong) He was chilling on the beachone saturday sunbathing and drinking a peach wine but, he saw something in the ocean light?? Glitter?? Maybe??? Wukong jumped on his nimbus to fly above the water to get a better look, until he was the most beautiful creature he's ever seen. You were a Giant female monkey simply floating and swimming in the water, Wukong immediately had hearts in his eyes upon your form. Wukong chirps as he few close to the water as you Pop your head out smiling at him, giving him a friendly hello. Your voice was music to his big ears and spend sometime getting to know him and bond together. A year goes by, and Wukong pops the question of marriage and soon you make a brand new breed of adorable sea monkies Wukong really couldn't be happier.

(MKR Wukong) He was patrolling around the camp like he usually does, until he saw something glowing in the distance. Wukong walked closer to the water to see a literal giant monkey woman moving smoothly in the ocean. He was in a state of shock as he Gawk at what appears to be a beautiful goddess, as you noticed him looking at you. You popped out the water, no breaking eye contact, just looking at him with a gentle but curious smile. Wukong was dumbfounded by your presence and the situation he was in, but he felt like he could trust and bond with you. You followed him during the journey to the west offering support and assistance and Wukong appreciates you so much. You both got married at the end of the journey and had a mountain full of sea monkies, as Wukong stared in shock at the groups of cubs.

(NR Wukong) He went to this beach party with Li and Su, when he saw something afar. Something glowing blue and red in the water and that's when you popped out the water, giving him a gentle smile. Wukong jaw dropped at this as his beer bottle fell out of his hands a sexy sea goddess, he must be passed out drunk on a beach chair again....😮 it took him a few weeks to realize you were real and he cranked up the charm and flirted like the wind with you. It wasn't long before you both got together and the land and sea was full of monkies🥰

(HIB Wukong) Wukong was looking for Luier and Silly girl, as it was getting late and was ready to leave the beach. Until he saw the two small children staring at something in the ocean, when Wukong walked over that's when he saw you. A giant sea monkey swimming along the ocean eyes sparkling in excitement and care, it was love in first sight. Wukong chirps whenever he sees you, and you would giggle and squeak back at him, showing fondness for him. Ever since then, Wukong would come back to visit you again, making you smile and chat with him, Wukong loved your voice and enjoyed hearing you talk. You made sure to follow him during his journey, offering support and assistance to him. At the end of the journey, you both married each other and got to surprise him with a whole mountain worth of baby sea monkeys, heh well his family is way bigger now.

(Netflix Wukong) Believe it or not you had spotted him first, and you thought he was adorable but were to shy to approach him. One night Wukong finally noticed you and his eyes sparkle in astonishment, upon your appearance. To say you were big and beautiful was a severe understatement as you were a Giant female monkey with such elegance and strong magic. Though Wukong was not Deterred and went off to officially meet you in the ocean, Wukong had so many questions and wonders about you, and you felt the same about him and spend your relationship getting to learn about land and sea. It didn't take time for you both to fall in love with each other, as Wukong would brag and talk about himself at times. Though that didn't stop you from marrying him and giving him the family he always wanted full of baby sea monkies😊

(BMW Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhh god his jaw was on the floor, when he saw you that one dark night. You were just gracefully swim under the water so carefree and elegant, hell you were even majestic. Wukong was smitten and immediately worked to woo you over. Often giving you land gifts and flirting with you, at first he was annoying to you with his boastful attitude but he soon grew on you. He would make you laugh with his land gossip and bring something genuinely interesting and soon you both began a relationship and got married a few years later. You can imagine the look on his face when he sees you birth a bunch of adorable laser eyed baby sea monkies.

(Destined one)(when he looks at me and I look at him🎵)(when she looks at me and I look at her🎶) Yup its a Staring contest between a adorable silent monkey and a giant sea goddess who is also a monkey. The Destined one had soo many questions about the situation he's in but you showed him you were no threat to him, if anything you were just as interested. The Destined one and you would share cuddles and have private quiet time with you for months on end. At the end of the year he put a ring on your finger and soon had a surprise bundle of baby sea monkies.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🌊

[mywritingonlyfans]

Teacher's pet. // Prof!Alex Turner X Stud!Reader (Smut) Part 1 of 3.

prompt: (Age Gap/Smut) Alex, an undergraduate professor, wasn't known for his friendliness until he found himself gradually warming up to you. Your remarkable writing skills, particularly directed at his class, heightened his interest even further. He's determined to show you firsthand just how talented you are, even if the journey is challenging. Eventually, both of you realize that resisting this connection is futile, and you must let go of your inhibitions to explore what lies ahead.

words: 9.3K

a/n: Be aware that it's a smut but it has a whole context, so it's long. There are changes of the next parts being more smuts, this part was assembled around how they feel in front of each other and what they make the other feel. It is important to point out that I'm not native of the language, it is likely that there are some errors, but hopefully few because I try to be careful. In addition, I hope you enjoy!

You were nervous; it was difficult to digest what he was explaining when all you seemed to notice in class was the timbre of his voice. As hours passed, his accent seemed to grow stronger and huskier, not to mention how he had taken off his blazer within the first few minutes and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. You couldn't quite tell whether you were enjoying the subject matter due to its inherent interest or whether it was him who had become your focus of interest.

You found the buttons on his white shirt alluring, the warmth adhering to his skin, and the occasionally tousled hair being lazily brushed away from his eyes exuded a charm. Watching him was intriguing; at some point, you had tried to avoid such distractions, but realizing your failure, you allowed yourself to be swept away completely.

"Did you hear me?" He asked a bit louder, trying to get your attention. He hadn't shouted; he never did. You were immersed in him, yet couldn't grasp the meaning of the disjointed words he had gestured. However, the movements of his restless hands and the prominent veins when he placed them on his waist had etched themselves into your memory. If someone requested, you could depict his fingers in oil on canvas.

"I'm sorry," you shook your head, waiting for him to repeat, as he often did with everyone else. He studied you more closely, even from a distance, his hands tucked in his pockets and your breath catching slightly. He didn't often make direct eye contact with students, maybe with no one. He was somewhat reserved, and it was evident that lecturing for hours wasn't quite his natural disposition. You found the stumbling over words and how he would look out the window or shift his gaze when someone met his eyes rather appealing. You feared that you had been thinking about him for so long that you had built up an image of him beyond what he could actually be.

However, he held his dark eyes on you, offering a gentle smile, a touch relaxed as if he had expected that from you, and playfully continued, "Well, I didn't expect that from you. I must have been mistaken in thinking you're a great one." He carried on with the lecture as your cheeks began to burn. Perhaps his not-liking for you was part of his nature too.

…

You couldn't bear for him not to like you. Not until the end of the semester; you considered his subject crucial for your repertoire. He just couldn't dislike you. Some nights were spent awake, but you were certain your paper was well-written, and your readings for his class were up to date; any question he might ask, you'd know the answer to. Your seat in the classroom was always the same, out of habit. Honestly, if you had known the distraction and nervousness that Mr. Turner would cause you, you would have opted for seats further back for your own good. But now it was too late, and besides, you needed a good grade in his class.

He was wearing a light blue blazer, a shirt with a few buttons open, and high-waisted slacks, the usual attire, but it never failed to soften your senses. He looked well-rested, his expression serene, no signs of dark circles, and his hair was even silkier than usual as his fingers brushed it back. You found yourself fidgeting, imagining what it would be like to run your fingers through his hair, touch his skin, and feel the texture of the beard that was just beginning to grow.

Realizing your mental drift, you closed your eyes tightly and buried your head in a notebook, trying to avoid looking at him. The rest of the class proceeded as usual, his voice pleasant and utterly hypnotic, and occasionally, he cracked a light joke to lighten the mood. Almost no one laughed, but you found it funny. There were only a few students, so he had no choice but to notice you.

You weren't foolish enough not to notice his eyes briefly passing over you, but you chalked it up to his duty to see if anyone needed help. So you avoided letting your brain jump to impossible conclusions.

And then there was the age difference; he was older, you couldn't say for sure how much, but the more pronounced lines on his face and his authoritative demeanor made that evident. Still, he was charming and, dare you say, a bit sexy. He had a well-sculpted physique, leaving enough room for you to describe him for hours.

"Could you continue for us?" he said, his voice distinct, making you look at him reluctantly. You didn't know it, but avoiding his gaze throughout the class had bothered him, but who was he to say anything about it unless you couldn't answer him?

You nodded, your hands sweaty; you knew what to say, just not where to find the courage. Your cheeks were already burning with anxiety. "I'm sorry," your voice was soft, and you stumbled over the first syllable. He seemed to understand. "It's okay," Mr. Turner leaned down to your level at your desk, his hands on his knees, and a somewhat encouraging smile. "I know you wrote an excellent paper on this; I know you know what to say," he said softly, turning toward you, his calm eyes and a nod of the head giving you confidence. His words made you look away for a moment, and your shy smile spread awkwardly.

Once you finished, he thanked you and added that you had done very well. He seemed genuinely pleased to see you speak, but perhaps it was just a product of your imagination. You even received a light applause from him, which didn't seem ironic. This made you feel more at ease and attentive during his classes; he was a great teacher.

At the end of class, he passed by the desks, handing out the respective papers we had discussed. Your face fell into a worried expression as you touched yours. Alex knew you deserved more, but he wouldn't make it easy for you. It wasn't his style as an educator to give out high grades easily.

Your smile disappeared in confusion; he felt a pang in his chest when he saw your reaction. He didn't say anything, just returned to his desk and said he was open to discussions. He hoped you would come to him and fight for the grade you deserved, but it was clear how upset you were about it.

Others left, content with their grades, and you still had the paper in your hands, looking between the notes. He avoided looking at you directly, yet couldn't help but glance at you from time to time.

"Mr. Turner," you sounded angelic as you approached him, your steps light as you handed him the paper. Your shirt was short, and when you handed him the paper, he couldn't help but notice the exposed skin of your stomach, which was briefly visible. "I thought I had done well; that's what you just said," your voice trembled, and as you got closer, he noticed your sweet scent. On the other hand, you couldn't focus on anything; minutes ago, you were sure you had done well, and things with him had been sorted out; he didn't hate you.

"It's not a bad grade," he said firmly, then immediately regretted it. It was brief, but for a moment, your eyes filled, and he could see how much it had frustrated you. He didn't blame you; in fact, he knew you were talented, and by the way you had written, he knew you had put in the effort. The problem wasn't you; any other teacher would have given you the highest grade. However, your grade wasn't bad; it just wasn't what you deserved and wanted.

"Do you think I can redo it? I can do better," he looked at your trembling hands and continued, "This grade is final; I can't allow you to do that." His words didn't match his tone, but you didn't notice; you wanted to rip up the paper in front of him and say you didn't need it.

You stood in front of him, disoriented, while he couldn't help but let his attention wander over you. He felt wrong, both because you were his student and because he was aware that you were over a decade younger. Still, without being able to explain it well, he found himself lost in thoughts of you from time to time, especially after having read what you wrote.

"Please," you pleaded softly as a last attempt, your eyebrow arched and your nose wrinkled in emphasis of your plea, and you looked so beautiful. "I can allow you to submit another," he confirmed, his face serious, the little furrow between his brows. Up close, you felt your breath catch as you noticed the exposed hairs on his chest. The scent of cigarettes and his cologne became more pronounced, and you liked it. Creating a new one would take so much time, but if it was your only option, there was nothing to be done.

Alex had only asked that in the hope of being able to explore more of your writing; by the end of the semester, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from letting you know that you were his number one fan if you allowed it. You had a beautiful way with writing; feelings seemed worth experiencing in your words. You nodded in agreement. "Okay, I need you to submit it by the end of the week." You didn't object; you seemed grateful, and Alex took mental note of how caring so much about that grade was something youthful; in the future, it wouldn't matter, but you didn't know that yet. Your smile, now smaller but still present, returned to your kind face, and he felt more comfortable, even dressed in his serious university professor attire. With that, he guided you to the door, his palm resting lightly on your back, not inappropriately, but gently, which caused him to blush a bit. You felt shivers run down your spine, but he didn't seem to notice, and both of you made your way to the exit. You thanked him once more, telling him that you wouldn't make him regret his decision, to which he assured you it wouldn't happen.

Your path to the next class was accompanied by a light and relaxed smile after his final words were simply, "I know you won't disappoint me; you didn't the first time," in his pleasant accent, followed by a pat on your shoulders. You felt like a fool, but you couldn't even think of trying to avoid it anymore.

…

"He's good, knows what he's doing. He follows my lead during, when I'm tired and breathless; he tilts his face and lets his nose graze my clit," your friend said casually, as if it were an everyday part of her life. Well, you couldn't relate. She was lounging on your bed, while you were on the floor with your laptop open to one of Professor Turner's published stories. As well as a valuable audiobook that was read by him between the navigation tabs, waiting for her to leave so you can have your moment of peace. You wanted to learn more about him, and your friend kept failing to get you to go out and meet new people. You were unfamiliar with the sensation of being touched, and she wanted to change that.

"I don't want to have to force someone to like me," you said, reconsidering what you had just breathed out, not wanting to sound offensive. You two were just different. She didn't mind; she just laughed. "I'll keep trying for you," and you appreciated that about her. You wanted someone in your life like that, but you didn't want it to be as insignificant as she described. She had already set you up with someone to talk to before, and the kiss was good, at least until you refused to have sex right away, which resulted in his friends laughing at you and whispering as you passed them in the hallway. You learned that sometimes it's better to wait and avoid certain situations.

"I'm okay like this, it's alright," you said, even though you weren't, but you wouldn't go through that again. She respected your decision. Your smile brightened as you saw a notification that you had received an email from Alex on the screen. You bit your lip, trying to contain your eagerness to click on it, making it something important that needed to be read slowly and appreciated. His notes on what he thought of your paper would be there, and he always made a point to highlight the positives and areas for improvement. It warmed your heart.

For a brief moment, his smile for you flashed in your mind, the wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes, and his pointed nose following in harmony. You had to grip the fabric of your skirt between your fingers, soon having your friend's words echoing in your head. Professor Turner seemed like a good man in every sense of the word. You did believe he would treat his partners well in every way. Your friend pointed out that the boy she went out with listened to her, and you felt that he would too; both in listening and in other ways. You were sure, with what little you had learned about him, that he was observant.  There would be no need to tell him what to do, Mr Turner would understand your body and then he would not disappoint.  He could tell when a woman was tired or overwhelmed. An important one was that you also thought he was provocative, too impatient at times not to be.  You wanted to be able to know what it was like with him, even if it was through other people's experiences with him, just to get a little of that taste.  You didn't exactly feel good about the inconsistency of such thoughts. Still, you let yourself be carried away by them.

He made you wet with just his voice. If he were to touch you in that way, you were certain you would give yourself over completely. You sat up straighter, envisioning how good it would be to have his tongue on you, gentle and with relaxed moans because he wouldn't think going down on you was a bad thing or something to second-guess. You remembered how easily you could make your small vibrator slide when you were really excited, and you felt it would be the same with his fingers. They were longer and thicker than yours, but wet with his saliva and your body melting from his voice, they would be skillful.

The tip of his nose would surely brush deliciously against your clit as he savored your taste, following your cues. The beard that was beginning to grow would graze your sensitive skin, causing a slight burn that would remind you of his presence. Professor Turner would also shake his face into you, wanting to make sure he enjoyed pleasuring you as much as he did receiving. Oh, and you would love to be able to provide that to him. Unconsciously, you found yourself breathing heavily. Your friend laughed, "Are you this worked up over a notification?" She had gotten up to leave but returned when she noticed you were flustered. "Spill it, who's the lucky one?" You recoiled, shaking your head in denial, not wanting to admit that there was someone (or not exactly), but your smile was hard to hide.

"It's not really anyone," you still felt uncomfortable in your own skin, fearing you had done something wrong. She waited for you to continue. "Just an email about a paper I submitted, I got feedback on it now." She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "What a nerd." Then you felt like exploring the situation further, considering that she also had a class with him but in a different subject. "Was it positive feedback at least? What subject is this for?" You mentally thanked her for asking, giving you an opening to continue.

"It's for Professor Turner's class. He let me redo one of the papers to try for a higher grade," you answered, and she raised an eyebrow. "He gave you a low grade?" The girl seemed surprised but not entirely. "This guy is impossible, what a..." She used a strong word. You didn't quite understand. While you still thought there was a chance he might dislike you, he didn't seem so harsh. He wasn't the friendliest at first, but as you thought back, you realized you had never seen him smile at any student in your class except you.

"Do people think he's bad?" You asked, furrowing your brow. Deep down, you wanted her to reassure you by saying positive things about him and making you feel normal about having this confusing crush on him. She then talked about his strict grading style, how he acted like a difficult person to talk to, and always had a stern expression. She wasn't wrong; you couldn't deny that. But he wasn't like that with you; it was different, and you couldn't explain it.

"I talked to him about my grade, and even though he was reluctant, he allowed me to redo it and submit it by email. He talks to me during class as well, asking me to explain something or asking for my opinion on what he's explaining. I think he's talented, but I can understand your point," you defended, without taking a breath, as if it were already a formulated and concrete idea in your head. You did spend a lot of time thinking about him since the first day of his class. She quickly caught on to where this was headed. "You like him, he's your type. Charming, grumpy, and writes well." Your cheeks burned. "He likes you; in my class, he doesn't chitchat with anyone, just does what's necessary. He enjoys teaching, I can see that in him, he's just not so sociable and too strict for a subject that should be straightforward. I've never even seen the guy smile." You pondered for a moment, deciding to pay closer attention to see if he treated you differently from the others or if it was just your head playing tricks on you.

You shrugged and concluded before she left, "I like him, and he frustrates me sometimes for being so strict, but I don't think he does it out of malice. He seems like a good man." She got up, laughing at how you talked about him. "Then go for it, suck his dick, choose him as your thesis advisor; I'm sure he'd love to have you under his wing." Her tone indicated it was a joke, but it sparked your imagination. He would be a good advisor, and you liked the idea of him praising your work with that pleased, bright look on his face. Alone, you opened the email. Your joy went from extreme to controlled; he could be quite harsh when pointing out the negatives, and sometimes you wondered if he did it just to be difficult. But this time, he found more positives in your writing. He had marked the parts he liked the most and written next to them why he liked them. Your heart warmed, and your stomach filled with happy butterflies. The last comment read, "You give me pleasure in reading something," and you heard it in his voice, deep and drawn-out. You felt yourself grow warm and realized how messed up you were for feeling like this. Your mouth was dry, and in the end, you saw that your grade was the highest, even with the not-so-great notes he had made.

Maybe he didn't dislike you after all. You lingered on the blurry, not much clear photo in his email signature for a while, with a stupid smile of accomplishment on your face. Then you decided to write him a thank-you, and you weren't as brief as you would have liked. The sensation of comfort taking over your body, along with your pleasant but not entirely appropriate thoughts about him causing things in your breathing, made you contemplate what could be done.

You rested your head comfortably, your laptop placed beside you. In a new tab, after opening the audiobook website, you found yourself browsing through the selection that appeared when you searched his name. If his voice was enticing in an inappropriate context, it would be even better alone, wouldn't it? Your chest tightened, knowing that it was wrong, but you weren't going to stop.

You put on your headphones, clicked on the longest one you could find, and relaxed your tense shoulders as the first whispered words filled your head. It was even better; here, you had him all to yourself, complete silence, and his voice echoing, well-recorded and clear as it guided you. He sounded precise, with deep and marked pauses, his typical breathing between phrases, and, with your eyes closed, you could imagine him gesturing and occasionally touching his nose or mouth as he spoke. Just like the gentle adjustment of the necklace and shirt that made his chest more visible and room for more of your thoughts to be explored.  In fact, that necklace coming off his soft skin on top of you in sweat would be something so pleasant.

You felt weak but in a relaxed way; it was good, pushing the voice that haunted your thoughts about him into the background. Delicately, as if any abrupt movement might break the spell, you reached for your box under the bed. The small, pink object came to life in your hand, your throat already dry and his narration causing your head to tilt slightly to the side, as if he were caressing your face. You let yourself be completely carried away as you pressed it against yourself.

You swallowed hard, leaving it there for a while, immersed in how Mr. Turner seemed to be speaking to you. Everything was slow, every syllable that came from his rosy lips was cherished. You wanted so much for it to be him there, touching you and whispering while guiding you. You were sure he would say things like, "That's it, you're taking me so well, doll," or "Look at how good you are, you're such a good girl for me." And as cliché as it might sound, you had no doubt that he would make it sound like something the gods themselves would envy.

You pulled the thin fabric aside, pushing the vibrator inside you. Your legs trembled a bit, but as expected, the small object slid in just right. Your lips parted in a satisfied sigh, whispering his last name as you closed your legs slowly and felt the tingling sensation intensify. His name never felt so delicious and engaging as your tongue rolled out to the sound and went through your lips so vividly. Your head throbbed, and you could already see him sitting at his desk in front of yours, guiding you, telling you what to do and say, teaching you tricks to make it even better (you knew you weren't very skilled).

You got louder, whimpering because you wanted your thoughts to become real so badly, and then you saw nothing but white spots in your vision. Your chest heaved, your breathing completely out of sync, and the area beneath you grew wet as you felt too sensitive to continue with the vibrator.

This time, you didn't feel bad; you felt really good, actually. Your body relaxed, his voice still being absorbed by you in a therapeutic way. Then, you imagined lying on his chest, pulling your pillow to your arms, and how he would kiss you solemnly and have his hands in your hair, giving you comforting words until you fell asleep after he had made you feel so wonderful. 

Although you were feeling good now, the following morning would be a bitter testament to how you were digging yourself into a hole with no bottom, and the light wouldn't be there to save you.

…

 Alex received your email, and a pleasant blush crept onto his face along with a warm smile. He could picture you reading what he had written, your hands between your thighs, a happy expression on your face, and all giddy, unable to contain yourself in your chair. He appreciated how much you valued his feedback, but he knew how hardworking and intelligent you were. He wanted to help you realize that you were good on your own, not just because he believed it.

He ran his hand through his hair, feeling hot from the heat. Your notification had arrived on his phone, and being a seasoned university professor, he preferred to wait to access his laptop to read and respond to you properly if needed. He tried to get into the thing that he was used to teaching, but that wasn't entirely the case. While he found it tiresome to teach subjects he liked and found interesting when no one seemed interested, he enjoyed it when you were there for him, you were the exception (the teacher’s pet). The thought made him chuckle and bite his lip. It was tiring, but he liked it, except for all the social interaction that weighed on him.

He had just returned from the market after giving two lectures, and he had exceeded his limit for social interaction. Yet, seeing your email notification on the screen gave him the extra energy he needed for the rest of the day. Just the thought of your quick exchange earlier when he passed by you on the first floor during lunch, even if brief, brought a warmth to his chest. You smiled at him, waved, and whispered a "good day" or "have a good rest of your day, Professor." He always smiled back with a hand in the air, trying to keep his face relaxed, and he actually showed his teeth. He wasn't used to all this sweetness from his students and had never found himself making an effort for it, but with you, it was worth it.

Indeed, no one but you spoke directly to him out of pure, spontaneous will. If others did, he would remain serious, with a furrowed brow, and nod in agreement. He honestly preferred it that way, with no one besides you trying to have a small talk with him. He didn't dislike his students, but he didn't like flattery and dumb questions that could be avoided if they paid attention in class.

His head began to ache, and he noticed the sweat on his body, prickling and making him feel irritated. Stress was about to come back, but he remembered that he needed to read your email. He removed his belt, sliding it off his waist slowly and soon feeling relieved. He felt even better after unbuttoning all the buttons on his shirt and peeling it off. He quickly decided between taking a shower or reading your sweet words first, considering which order would leave him relaxed for longer so he could sleep. He knew that whatever he did, thoughts related to you would still linger in his mind until he fell asleep.

He sat on the bed, pulling the laptop toward him, and although he wasn't in a hurry, he found himself restless until the screen lit up, and he could access his account. Once he did, your simple message didn't fail to soften him. The excessive exclamation points reminded him of how young you were. It was like a letter, with your polite and correct punctuation. He could almost hear your voice as he read your words.

The way you called him "Mr. Turner" never failed to affect him. Others had addressed him this way, but it was different with you. Your eyes sparkled, your smile widened, your pupils got alive, and your pleasant face eagerly awaited for him to look at you and speak to you. He thought he was too old for this, and he certainly was, but he couldn't avoid how you had invaded his soul.

You had no knowledge of what was going on in his head, but he felt like he was corrupting you. He felt dirty for getting so energized by giving you compliments he knew you liked to hear and then patting your back while seeing you happy about it. What the hell was he doing? And he couldn't deny that he found comfort in how beautiful you looked when you were frustrated, your eyes seemed more tired, and your breathing uneven when you were upset about one of his negative comments (sometimes he did it on purpose).

Feeling his own chest grow heavier and his mind getting increasingly lost, he opted for a shower, even though he was aware that idealizing you wouldn't end there. Now without clothes, under the shower, with you like a curse surrounding him, he realized just how messed up he was. He couldn't avoid it anymore, even though he didn't want to. He knew there was no turning back.

The words from your email clung to him as water flowed over his hair and down his shoulders. You had shown how much you appreciated him and knew his work, the care in choosing your words to praise him, and saying that you wanted to get to him in person soon to reinforce how much you had liked his feedback, the way would like to work through them and see you unravel in front of him because he noticed that your courage in emails wasn't the same as in person. He found that so adorable.

His overactive imagination was leading him to cute places related to you, but it was sparking other curiosities in him too, even though it was about how delicate and somewhat innocent he found you (although he would never admit it that way). Soon, he felt heavy, needing relief as the water splashed over him, and he sighed in exasperation at himself. He was being as pathetic as a teenager. Why couldn't he stop?

His breathing grew rigid, catching in his dry throat, and he allowed himself to be carried away by the flow of his fantasies. His hand ran over his abdomen, eyes tightly closed, hoping that this would make him feel less guilty about it. His thumb glided over the sensitive skin, and a soft sigh escaped his lips; he felt sore and swollen despite doing so little. He continued slowly but with precision. He believed that giving you pleasure wasn't such a difficult task; you would appreciate the touch no matter what. Not that it made him want to go easy on you. He felt like he could have his hands around your waist, squeezing your soft flesh with delight while admiring your breasts, giving them gentle bites and generous suckling that would make you gasp for air for extended periods. Your hands would be cradling the nape of his neck, fingers entwined in his tousled hair. He found comfort in this, feeling that he could make you feel the same way.

He also thought that your body would respond well to his. He was convinced that you were addicted to being a good girl, and that was not up for discussion. The way you melted under his compliments, listened to his harsh criticisms, and sought to improve upon them, you would deny any chance of being labeled a bad girl. As more moans escaped his lips, with the strength of his fingers unaltered, he thought about going a little harder on you, not to hurt, but to make you think about begging him to stop. The tears that would stream down the corners of your eyes as you tried to be good for him and take him in you just right. "You're doing so well, babygirl. You’re so good to me." You would open your bright eyes to him, feeling encouraged to continue being what he needed. He would clearly notice and slow down, accommodating his fingers on your clit and making you adjust to him with soft whimpers that made you endure and enjoy it until the end.

He also liked how you would react when he stimulated you to the extreme, your sensitivity and his desire to taste your essence on his tongue. He could say that you were as sweet as his last name sounded when you talked to him in class. He would tease you with his tongue, kissing you as if it were the only time and chance he had to touch you. And you would fight not to close your thighs around him, but as you were a good girl, you would succeed in keeping yourself spread open while he exhausted you a few more times. The thought of you reaching your peak, your eyes closed, and the tears he knew would be there because you did that when you got frustrated with his opinions on your writing, and your mouth slightly open with his name escaping, made him reach his climax. A deep, raspy groan echoed through the bathroom, his head heavy, and his shoulders feeling lighter and more satisfied. He worked his hand until the last drops came out and marked his stomach just before the water could wash it away down the drain.

He felt good, guilty, but his body wasn't saying that. "Fuck," he sighed, not knowing if it was relief or the headache that would come later due to this; it was getting worse to a dimension he hadn't imagined. He would surely ruin you if he continued; it wasn't as enjoyable as he wished.

Still, he got out of the shower and found himself picturing how you would snuggle up to him, your tired body and calm eyes enveloped by his, and how he would love to tell you stories until he saw you fall asleep safe in his arms or listen to you talk about your day. He liked your voice; it made him feel good. At this point, he desired you in all these ways, from the most profane to the most adorable, for your physical and emotional well-being.

You still haunted his dreams, so vividly that he reached out for you in bed. In his imagination, he had lifted you by the waist and placed you sitting on his desk. The remaining students had left, and he could revel in how your hands were trembling and your face was so delicate as you gazed at him. You used to wear knee-high socks with longer boots, and he found it sexy yet cute. He felt like you made things your own, that you gave life to them. And then he found himself pulling at that piece of clothing, your legs spreading apart, and he had to instruct you to stay quiet before someone noticed as his fingers touched between your thighs. He caressed over the damp fabric, nodding his head and waiting for you to do the same, indicating that you understood to stay calm and quiet. The door would be closed, but the glass window could still give you away. You were facing away from it, and if you behaved, everything would go smoothly.

Alex could feel you soaking through his fingers, making them slippery. You sucked on his finger skillfully, being such a great girl, and stayed still without him having to coax you into relaxing as he went deeper. Your sighs were adorable, and he felt himself getting hard. He woke up before he could make you reach your peak and realized that the dream had an effect on him. There, he knew that if given the opportunity, maybe he wouldn't be able to fight against what he wanted to do, purely out of morality.

…

The following week, there was no class with Turner due to some unforeseen circumstances of his. However, he was still around for the week. Being as observant as you were, you passed by the same spot at 12:45 on Friday, gave him a slight wave, and although you had planned to approach him and ask how he was, you didn't. That is, until he called out to you, causing your body to freeze and your heart to race, forcing you to get closer.

He adjusted the bag on his shoulder, his cheeks flushed and intense. You noticed his restlessness as you got to him; it was cute, not awkward. He held a coffee and had a cigarette between his fingers. He exhaled the smoke in the opposite direction to yours and got rid of it as soon as you arrived by his side.

"Are you good, Professor?" It didn't fail to make him nervous, but he still looked at you without understanding. "I'm sorry, I guess it's not my business; I just thought to ask out of politeness since I haven't seen you this week."

He laughed at how you stumbled over your words, and he didn't blame you; he felt the same way. The fact that he made you feel like your question was inappropriate even made his chest tighten a bit.

"It's okay, I had a routine check-up, but I'm fine," he replied briefly but nodded with a comfortable smile. He could see you swallowing nervously and how your fingers wouldn't stop moving while he had his eyes on you.

"I thought of a book for you, if you don't mind." Your eyes met his, and you seemed excited. "I really like it, and I thought you might like it too."

The idea that he had thought of you made your body tingle, and the rush of blood to your face drowned out the noise around you. You took the coffee from his hands, noticing how he fumbled with opening his bag, and the light touch of your skins made you wish for more—it was warm and soft.

He took out the book, handing it to you, and you nodded with a faint smile. You hugged the cover to yourself, avoiding his gaze for a moment. It felt insane being around him after all the things you did with him in mind. You weren't exactly proud of that. The collar of his striped T-shirt was carelessly folded, and the buttons you loved so much were unbuttoned, revealing his chest briefly. You wished you could fix it for him.

This time, he wore a dark blazer and flare jeans, and he was pleasant to look at. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, "I left notes in some parts so that I can know what you think later, if you'll allow me." Then you realized that he was doing this because he knew you needed to do well in his course to get into the master's program; still, you found it cute.

"Oh, yes, I can write to you when I finish, right?" He agreed, knowing that he would be waiting for your email in the coming weeks.

"I'm glad to know you're okay, Mr. Turner," you said awkwardly, your face fervently hot, and thanked him for the book. As you turned around, you felt his hand on your wrist; it wasn't as soft as before, but it was comforting, with the fingertips firmer as he squeezed your skin. Then, your eyes met his with a raised eyebrow.

"I need you to give me back my coffee, pet," he said playfully, and your knees weakened a bit. He felt pleased to be able to contemplate you in his mind.

…

The heat had taken its toll on Alex. He had left his blazer in the car and decided to visit one of the open bars near the campus. His hands rested inside his pockets as he patiently waited for his juice and water, yearning for the moment when he could finally get home and enjoy a cold beer. It was his final class of the afternoon, which meant it was getting quite late, and the students were scattered around. While the bar wasn't overly crowded, he could still recognize a few faces.

As soon as the chilled cup was placed in his hands, he caught sight of you with your back turned. You were wearing your signature knee-high socks and boots, but this time, you had opted for a skirt and a tank top, giving you a more relaxed and comfortable appearance. You looked stunning. With you engaged in conversation with a friend he had glimpsed from a distance, you were all smiles and animated hand gestures, bringing life to the scene.

Realizing he was staring, Alex chided himself and tried to divert his attention back to his juice. Yet, within a few minutes, his gaze involuntarily returned to you. Now, you were alone, engrossed in his book that sat next to you, its pages marked to indicate that you had already begun reading. A smile of satisfaction graced his lips; he had strategically placed notes between the pages for you to discover, hoping you would notice.

You sipped from an orange beverage, and Alex decided not to speculate whether it contained alcohol. However, he knew you weren't intoxicated when you suddenly turned towards him and greeted him with a friendly wave. He felt momentarily caught off guard but managed to offer a warm wave in return, nodding to acknowledge you. Your smile was radiant, and he couldn't help but notice how different you appeared outside the confines of the classroom. He longed for the opportunity to engage with you in a context that wasn't purely academic, but he was well aware that pursuing such a connection might be detrimental to both of you.

You turned back to your previous position, sipping your drink through a straw, while still sneakily stealing glances at him. Alex deliberated whether to linger a bit longer for your sake. The table you occupied was well-lit, offering a refreshing ambiance that was perfect for a summer day. The atmosphere was delightful, and he could easily imagine you enjoying such a setting regularly.

He held his bottle of water, pondering the ethical implications of sitting with you while you were alone. His initial plan was to finish his drink and then leave. But he couldn't bring himself to do that—not for his sake, but for yours. It wouldn't be fair to you. He feared the potential consequences would fall squarely on your shoulders rather than his own.

He shook his head and eventually decided to leave. As you lowered your head into his hands, he waited for a few more minutes, half-expecting you to look his way. But it didn't happen.

Then everything seemed to happen very quickly. He returned to his car, leaving behind the water and even starting the engine before realizing he had left his wallet inside. He hesitated but ultimately turned back, despite his frustration over forgetting his documents.

His wallet was still where he had left it. He retrieved it and then shifted his attention to you, curious and attentive. Your hands were fidgeting with your socks, as if attempting to wipe away sweat. A boy was seated in front of you, but your attention was elsewhere. The guy sported a smile that made Alex uncomfortable on your behalf.

Your discomfort was palpable, yet you seemed powerless to do anything about it. You turned to the side, your head moving away from the boy, and as you gasped for air, the guy's grin widened. Your elbows dropped onto your knees, and your hands moved to pull your hair away from your face. You appeared more sweaty than usual, and you felt increasingly weak.

As you realized your strength was waning, the boy signaled for someone else to assist you. You resisted, but they gently pushed you back into your chair to prevent you from collapsing. They weren't being nice about it.

For Alex, that was the tipping point. He strode over to them and forcefully removed the boy's hand from your arm. "Get away from her," his stern voice reverberated, and you didn't understand what was happening, but you knew you didn't feel well.

The guys attempted to speak over Alex, trying to explain themselves, even though there was no justification for their actions. Their chatter only served to irritate him further. He held onto you, his hand caressing your face, and your eyes were half-closed; you were clearly not in a good state.

After another remark from the boys, Alex glared at the boy with an even more intense hatred. His brow furrowed, and his tone grew sharper. "Just stay away from her; I won't let her be alone with you," he warned, making it clear that they should not attempt such behavior with anyone else either.

The boys exchanged nervous glances and silently agreed to leave, though Alex couldn't have cared less about them at that moment.

"What’re you feeling, pet?" He placed his hands on his knees, lowering himself to your level. You were dazed, your skin tingling, and you weren't sure what to say, or if you could say anything at all. Alex considered asking where you lived and offering to take you home, but he suspected you lived in the vicinity of the campus, and it wouldn't be appropriate for him to be seen with you in this state. Taking you to his own home didn't seem like a good idea either, but he did live nearby, and it appeared to be the most reasonable option.

He cupped your face in his hands, close enough to smell your scent once again. You smiled faintly, your eyes still distant but focusing on him. You were conscious, just not in the best condition. "I don't want to stay here; my head is spinning," you mumbled, not entirely sure what was wrong. It could have been due to poor nutrition or dehydration, you thought.

"Look, I'll stay with you ‘til you feel better, alright?" he spoke gently, as if soothing a baby. You nodded, his touch on your cheek making you lean into his warmth. As he thought about reaching out to your forehead with his lips, he realized where he was and quickly pulled back, rising to his feet with you leaning on him for support.

…

Alex gently sat you in the passenger seat, and you huddled in front of him, noticeably self-conscious about your attire. He chuckled warmly, pulling his blazer from the back seat. You felt cradled by his presence as he slipped the fabric over your arms and fastened the buttons around your midsection. It resembled a short dress, making you feel more comfortable, and it carried a pleasant scent. Your stomach still tingled, and you were aware that it was because of him and not whatever had happened earlier.

He rested your head against the headrest, his serene eyes guiding you, and he didn't seem regretful about helping you, despite the crease between his brows. Then he fastened your seatbelt and handed you his water bottle. Your vision was blurry, and sudden movements hurt, but he wasn't a saint, and he had a rough view of how you must be feeling. He'd been your age before, although thankfully, in his case, it had been a result of a spontaneous choice.

"I'll wait a bit before starting the car, alright?" he suggested, and you nodded. He gently led the bottle to your lips, encouraging you to drink a substantial portion of it. He wiped your chin and face with the hem of his T-shirt, and you followed his every move, your attention fixated on him. Without the blazer, he looked even better, and you lightly held his wrist. He seemed concerned, but you did it because you wanted to and felt that you could, even though you'd never been this close before. "Thank you, Mr. Turner," you said casually, as if it didn't affect him profoundly.

As he sat down on the driver's side of the car, he closed the tinted windows, feeling safer with that precaution. He still worried about putting you in danger. He waited, knowing that feeling dizzy along with drinking water wouldn't be a good combination, even though he had insisted on it to help your body recover more quickly. He could hear your calm breathing, which put him at ease. You had closed your eyes, your mouth slightly ajar, and he looked at you, allowing himself to be captivated by every detail. He carefully adjusted your hair to prevent it from catching on the seat and strands from being pulled, whispering, "You can sleep; everything’ll be alright, I promise, little one." You found yourself charmed by the pet name, involuntarily smiling, and he made a mental note that you like it. Your arms lightly touched, and with the comforting scent of him surrounding you, you drifted into a light sleep. It was strange to be in such a bad situation with an outcome that neither of you regretted. He kept the radio off until reaching your destination. He’d never drive without music. 

… 

Your eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light as you realized you were leaning on him for support. Your forehead was resting on his shoulder, his soft T-shirt against your skin. He was more comforting to touch than your mind had led you to trust. He was kneeling in front of you while you sat on the bed. You no longer felt dizzy, but you were weak, with not all your senses fully present. Alex's hands delicately removed your earrings and necklaces, and it was nice to have him so close, a bit surreal. You almost believed you could be a doll with how he was treating you. He moved back, laying you down on his bed, and he smiled at you as a way to reassure you that everything was okay. You grabbed his arm, afraid he would leave. Alex quickly shook his head. "Hey, little one, I'm not going anywhere. I just need to get some water for you and something to dry your face." He sounded caring, making you want to cry because you knew this was wrong. But why did it feel so right?

"Promise?" You asked, not into the idea of falling into a deep sleep and when you wake up he wouldn't be there to call you little one anymore. He nodded, extending his pinky finger to seal the promise. The silence without him wasn't comforting; you felt like there were monsters under the bed. Still out of mind about time and space, you realized you were in his room, which made you feel even more fragile. The room had a light blue color, seemed well-lit during the day, had books scattered in an organized manner, and two guitars hanging on the wall. That made you put your hand over your mouth as you imagined how his fingers would behave playing those strings. You wanted to hug him, to let the scent and the soft chest lull you to sleep again. Your head was noisy, and you didn't like it.

When he returned, he moved in slow motion to you. He wiped your face and neck with a damp cloth, and you wondered why he was alone. He was a good man; you had thought about that before. Alex wouldn't sleep next to you, but he would stay with you as long as you needed him. He sat with his back against the headboard, looking at you for a moment. It was too late; this was no longer just a casual situation. You'd have to talk about it; you had formed a bond. Although you were scared, Alex liked it.

You asked him to lie down, and he complied. You were side by side, facing each other. Your eyelids struggled to close, but first they followed your fingers as they roamed his face. You traced the gentle lines at the corner of his eye, then the bridge of his nose. He was handsome. Sometimes you wanted to forget that he was older than you, even though you liked him that way. Your hand then touched his rough stubble, and he smiled when he saw you smiling at him. It was like a dream, like you had imagined and even better.

In an abrupt and unquestionably unplanned proceed, your hand hooked onto the collar of his T-shirt, pulling yourself closer. It was a light pull, and in the blink of an eye, your lips were on his, tender and airless. They lingered there, just touching, feeling each other's warmth and the mixing of breaths. Your hand pressed against his chest and held him to yourself, like he could heal you. You moved your lips with his slowly, warmly, and precisely, enjoying in a comfortable sigh every second of it, until he broke into a sigh of reality. He couldn't be doing this, not with you like this. Not wanting to startle you, he sealed your cheeks and nose a few countless times before planting small forehead kisses when he needed to refuse your touch. He felt guilty, but he wouldn't deny that it had been good, way better than he had fantasized. There were no words, and none were needed; both of you were aware of it. Although he thought you might not be as much, he feared you might not even remember this when you woke up.

Alex held your palm against his chest until you fell asleep. Then he got up, covered your body with a warm sheet, and left you there. Unable to restrain himself from touching your face before and stroking your hair. The next day, you would wake up, wondering if it had been a vivid dream or not. But his room would leave no doubts, with the guitars, the well-lit atmosphere, and his blazer still carrying his scent on you. You didn't know how you were going to talk to him after that, you thought about how he must think of you as a kid who doesn't know how to be in the real world. This time, however, you noticed a photo on the bedside table. He was hugging a woman while kissing her forehead. She had a neatly cut fringe and an angelic face; she was very pretty, and it made you feel insecure. She was around his age. You were wrong to be there, and then you got that the bed you were on was a double bed. You wanted to run away even though your head was pounding. Professor Turner might act like a good man, but he was still a man. Above all, you tried to think well of him; perhaps it was a divorce, right? You would have noticed the ring on his finger if he were married. He wouldn't take off the ring, would he? But why was that photo still there? You quickly got up, failing to remain composed when you saw that he had left a note and some money in case you needed to call an Uber. You couldn't just read it right away. You wanted to believe he was good, but it hurt. You felt used even though you hadn't done anything. Yet, you still felt like you wanted him around more often because you felt good with him. In the middle of class, Alex struggled with impatience, hoping you wouldn't leave without taking the note and the snack he had left for you, so you would have his number and be safe. But it didn't happen, at least not when he expected it to. 

...

taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmoschaotic @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @artimonkii @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams

(lmk if you want to be in or out of the taglist!)

[vermilionsun]

[Anon request (2/2)]: “Since MC is broke, what do the LIs think of them showing affection through gifts, even if they haven't got money? I can imagine they make simple, inexpensive things like paper flowers for Leander or friendship bracelets for Ais.”

Yes yes yes~ - I don't think they'd care much about the price tbh

Ais

✩ "Hm… what is this?" Ais asks as he's handed a hand-made bracelet.

"It's a friendship bracelet I made for you," the MC replies with a smile. "I hope you like it."

✩ He's dumbfounded.

✩ Ais looks down at the bracelet in his hand and takes a moment to examine the colorful beads. He is surprisingly gentle as he handles the bracelet, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns. "You made this? For me?"

"Yep."

✩  High possibility there’s either a birb or bone charm in the middle (┛◉Д◉)┛彡┻━┻

✩ He's definitely the type to believe there's a reason behind every action someone takes.

✩ "It's handmade, huh? Why waste your time on something so pointless for me?"

✩ The MC's smile falters slightly at Ais's words, but they quickly recover. "It's not a waste of time if it's something I enjoyed making for you," they say softly. "If you don't want it, I'll take it back—"

✩ Meanwhile, Ais had already fastened it to his wrist.

✩ "Who said I didn't want it?" Ais interrupts, his eyes softening as he admires the bracelet. "You think I'd let you give me a gift, then just take it away so easily?"

✩ "I just don't understand why you would go through all this trouble for me." The MC chuckles, a hint of blush coloring their cheeks. "I wanted to show my appreciation for all you've done for me," they explain.

✩ Ais looks at the bracelet on his wrist, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Thank you, sparrow. I'll treasure it."

Leander

🗡 After yet another magic show of luck-filled lilies, Leander notices the MC sitting at the bar, busy doing something just out of view. He puts on a charming smile and takes a seat next to them. "Oh, what do we have here?"

The MC presents him with a few napkin-made lilies.

🗡 Leander's eyes widen in surprise, and he smiles as he picks one up, delicately examining the folded paper and twirling it between his fingers.

🗡 Leander is a man who enjoys both the big (̶A̶i̶s̶)̶ and the small (̶M̶h̶i̶n̶)̶ things in life.

🗡 "These are amazing," he exclaims, genuinely impressed. "Did you fold these yourself?"

🗡 "Impressive. I can't say I've ever seen napkin origami this accurate before."

🗡 I̶n̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ m̶o̶m̶e̶n̶t̶, h̶e̶ r̶e̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ w̶i̶s̶h̶e̶d̶ h̶e̶ h̶a̶d̶ a̶ b̶r̶e̶a̶s̶t̶ p̶o̶c̶k̶e̶t̶

🗡 He takes the small flower and gently tucks it behind the MC's ear, his hand lingering just long enough for them to feel the warmth of his skin at the uncovered base of his palm.

🗡 "Thank you for this lovely gift," he says with a soft smile.

Kuras

✞ He just blinks down at the object in confusion. "A bookmark?"

✞ He takes it, carefully inspecting it and smoothing his fingers over the glossy surface, intrigued by its unexpected smoothness.

✞ The bookmark is a deep shade of amethyst, with hand-painted gold designs etched into the surface. As he turns it over in his hands, he notices a small inscription on the back.

✞ Curious, he squints (bad eyesight gang, let's go) to make out the messy script that reads, 'For the most fascinating doctor.'

✞ "Ah."

✞ Speechless.

✞ For the first time since the MC woke up at his clinic after the Soulless' attack, his smile falters. A strange look flickers across his face—something caught between guilt and sorrow—there one minute and gone the next.

✞ "Do you not—"

"No, I like it..." He quickly reassures them. "Just a little startled. I'm not used to receiving gifts."

✞ Same song and dance. A̶n̶d̶ h̶e̶ k̶n̶o̶w̶s̶ i̶t̶.

✞ "It's... a very nice bookmark."

✞ Careful. He forces his gaze back to their eyes, to their friendly, expectant expression. His hands absently smooth out the wrinkles on his white coat as he tries to find the words to say. But none of them are appropriate.

✞ T̶h̶e̶y̶ a̶r̶e̶ s̶t̶i̶l̶l̶ s̶o̶ y̶o̶u̶n̶g̶. S̶o̶ o̶p̶e̶n̶. S̶o̶ n̶a̶ïv̶e̶.

✞ He shoves down the guilt that claws its way up his throat, hiding it beneath an impenetrable facade. When his eyes flash up to the MC's, the gold swirls in his irises as he forces a smile—steadfast, unwavering. The one he has had centuries to perfect.

✞ "Thank you," he finally manages to say, the words feeling foreign on his tongue.

Vere

✦ Vere, sitting across the table, observed the MC with a coy smile as they moved a broken-in-half pencil along the edge of the sheet of paper, brow furrowed in concentration, eyes focused intently on the task at hand, wavering only to glance up at Vere. Often. Very often.

✦ "What're you drawing there? Don't tell me you're sketching me."

A guilty smile overcomes their lips as they lift their eyes to meet his pink ones.

✦ Vere chuckled, leaning forward slightly. "Oh, how predictable. You can't help it, can you? I've just got such a captivating presence. But I must say, I'm flattered to be your muse."

"…It was supposed to be a gift."

✦ Vere pretended to be wounded, feigning a look of hurt. "Oh, how dare you! You'd just give away art portraying my stunning and irresistible beauty so easily? I'm wounded."

"For you."

✦ Vere pauses for a moment, allowing the words to sink in before bursting into laughter. "For me? Well, in that case, I accept your gift with grace and humility. I suppose I could find room in my collection for one more sketch of myself. After all, they are my favorites, just like you."

✦ "Carry on with your sketching, my talented artist."

✦ Truth be told, it turned out mediocre at best.

✦ Vere looked at the sketch, his expression a tad puzzled amongst the amusement. He held the sketch up to his face, examining it closely with a raised eyebrow.

✦ "Well, well, well... You certainly have a keen eye for detail, I must say." He chuckled softly, glancing up at them with a sly smile.

✦ "If you don't want it, you could just say so—"

He quickly snatched the sketch from their hands. "Oh, no no no, I'm keeping this. Consider it a token of your affection towards me."

✦ Vere has an expensive taste; that's a known fact. But he was willing to overlook the lackluster quality of the sketch purely out of vanity. He didn't need to know that the sketch was hastily done and far from impressive. As long as Vere believed it was a masterpiece, that's all that mattered.

Mhin

🕊 They are definitely a foodie. Please gift them sweets, if possible.

🕊 Mhin takes the bag, eyeing it suspiciously. Then, they peek inside, revealing a handful of sweets.

🕊 "A gift?" Mhin echoes, looking up at the MC, their face betraying a hint of bewilderment. "What's the angle?”

🕊 Mhin hesitantly picks up one, studying it like a puzzle to be solved. Then, they warily take a bite. A moment later, a small flicker of surprise and pleasure washes over their face. 

🕊 T̶r̶u̶t̶h̶ b̶e̶ t̶o̶l̶d̶, t̶h̶e̶y̶ h̶a̶l̶f-̶e̶x̶p̶e̶c̶t̶e̶d̶ t̶h̶e̶m̶ t̶o̶ b̶e̶ p̶o̶i̶s̶o̶n̶e̶d̶

🕊 Mhin crosses their arms defiantly, but their Mhin's voice softens a touch. Despite their hard, distrustful veneer, there is a hint of vulnerability in their eyes.

🕊 "You... really just wanted to give me this? No hidden motives, no expectations?"

🕊 "I..." Mhin falters. Then, something strange happens: a corner of their mouth twitches up, as if fighting away a smile. "I don't understand you. But... Thanks, I guess."

🕊 In the more-than-likely scenario that sweets are expensive expensive in Eridia, I offer you the alternative: Hand-made dagger cat charm.

🕊 They look at the charm in their hand, confusion dancing across their face. The words fail to come to them; instead, their face turns into a frown.

🕊 “What is that supposed to be?”

🕊 A huff of breath leaves their lips as they reluctantly take the charm. They are clearly unimpressed. "You made this? Why would I need a charm? I don’t need luck; I trust my skills and my instincts."

🕊 "If you don't want it—"

They snatch the charm from their hand, almost possessively. “I didn’t say I don’t want it. I just...never mind.”

🕊 They attach the charm to their dagger, secretly basking in the warmth that spreads through their chest.

🕊 "Thank you," they finally mutter, refusing to meet their eyes.

🕊 Now, when they grip the weapon, a sense of reassurance floods over them as their fingers brush over the charm, despite their attempts to hide it.

🕊 Though they may not need luck, having a reminder of someone who cared enough to make them a gift was a comfort in itself.

[psychoticallykind]

Already Perfect

"Try" - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 576 words

--------------------------------------------------------------

Regulus forced a smile as another person came up to talk to him. He didn't know her name, or why she thought that he, of all people, would be a good conversationalist.

He wasn't. And he didn't want to be here. But he was trying to be a good boyfriend.

So even though he had a headache, and all he wanted to do was lay down with his human-space-heater boyfriend and listen to the latest things he'd learned about his newest hyper fixation, he was here. At a party.

A very loud, crowded party.

"Having fun?"

Regulus tried to reinforce his smile as he turned to his boyfriend. "Yeah."

James's own smile faltered a bit as he took in Regulus's expression. "Are you sure?" He brought one hand up to Regulus's forehead and rubbed gentle circles on his temple. "Do you have a headache?"

And this was the problem.

James was the perfect boyfriend. He never pushed Regulus to do things he didn't want to. He never complained about the sheer level of anti-socialness he was capable of. And he was the most attentive, caring person Regulus had ever met.

"I do, but it's not bad," Regulus told him. He nodded at the girl. "We were just talking."

James glanced at her with a friendly smile. "That's great." He was still making the small, soothing circles on Regulus's temple, and Regulus was secretly grateful. "We can go if you want. I know you had a long day already."

Ugh.

Regulus forced himself to shrug. "I'm good here. I want you to have fun."

James met his eyes, and Regulus could read the concern. He tried to reinforce his smile, and it actually did come a little easier when he was looking at James.

"Alright," James finally said. "But you'll tell me if you want to leave, right?"

"Yeah," Regulus lied. "Of course."

James pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Good." Then he moved behind Regulus, wrapping his arms securely around his waist.

"What are you doing?" Regulus asked, leaning into him.

"Having fun," James replied. "Are you?"

"I told you I was." It was a lie. And he was not going to be able to keep it up if James didn't go somewhere else.

Regulus was a very good liar when James wasn't involved.

"Mmm."

They swayed back and forth. And while everything was a bit more tolerable with James holding him, Regulus was still exhausted, and his head still hurt. And he really did want to leave, but he knew James loved these things.

"I'm actually kind of tired," James said. He kept swaying them gently back and forth. "Do you think we could leave soon?"

Regulus groaned, turning around in James's arms and looking up at him. "You're not tired."

"Maybe not," James agreed, giving him a soft smile. "But you are. I can tell."

"Ugh." Regulus pressed forward, burying himself in James' chest. "So much for being good."

"Being good?" James asked.

Regulus hummed in pleasure as fingers massaged through his hair. "Yeah. You know, a good boyfriend. Doing stuff you like."

He felt more than heard James' laugh. "You are a good boyfriend."

"No." Regulus leaned back just enough to meet his eyes. "I'm not. I was trying to be, but you had to come and be all perceptive."

"Love," James was grinning, all humor and adoration. "You don't have to try to be anything." He kissed Regulus's forehead. "You're already perfect."

[gothamite-rambler]

When Superman First Met Batman's sidekick

Superman (raising an eyebrow): This is your sidekick?

Nine-year-old Robin (Dick Grayson) sat on the ground, captivated by a bug while munching on crackers. He felt a gentle nudge on his back from Batman's shoe, urging him to pay attention. Looking up, he stood to his feet.

Batman (deadpan): Yes, don't say it.

Superman (curious): Hm… is he not a little boy? Because I'm seriously doubting he's just a little grown up.

Batman (stony-faced): You wouldn't believe me if I lied. Robin, introduce yourself.

Robin (waving excitedly): I’m Robin! I can do flips and tricks. Hug time!

With that, Robin threw his arms around Superman, catching the mighty hero off guard and leaving Batman looking slightly annoyed. He had thought he was the only one who got hugs.

Robin (cheerfully): I’m a big fan!

Superman (smiling warmly): Oh… I needed that right now. Thanks, kid.

Superman patted the kid on the top of his head with a smile.

Batman (yanking Robin back to his side, a tinge of jealousy in his tone): Yep, he can do flips and tricks. Not hug strangers!

Batman gave the boy a friendly pat on the head. Superman blinked, trying to process the whirlwind of information.

Superman (alarmed): Right… um, circling back then. That's a child!

Batman (exasperated): He's my son.

Superman (wide-eyed): That's worse!

Batman (making it worse): I adopted him after his parents… died?

Superman (concerned): What? Did you—

Superman looked at Robin.

Superman (shocked): Did he murder your parents?!

Robin (tapping his chin in thought, mischievous): Hm… I'm not sure. Maybe some candy will help me answer the question.

Batman (sighing): After the mission. I promise, I will take you to the candy store.

Robin (grinning): I'm remembering that and no, he did not kill my parents; a mobster did.

Batman (to Superman, slightly defensive): There, he told you the truth. Are you satisfied?!

Superman (frustrated): He's still a child!

Batman (controlled fury): Why does everyone have this reaction when they meet him? I've had to deal with crooks in Gotham with hypocritical reactions of "Oh my gosh you have a child!" Like they didn't just commit murder! But I thought you'd let this go!

Superman (crossing his arms): Okay, I'll indulge you then. Cool, you have a child sidekick; how old is he?

Robin (sweet, prideful tone): I just turned nine.

Superman (rage shouting): Shut the fuck up! No, he's not! What the fuck is wrong with you, Batman?

Robin hid behind his father's leg, slightly scared at the yelling from the God-like superhero. This made Batman angry.

Batman (shouting): Hey! Don’t cuss in front of my son! He already has to deal with the Joker, but you, of all people, will not swear in front of my boy! You can criticize me for many things, and I won't care, because they aren't true, but don't tell me how to raise my son! He picked that suit—throwing that in there to get it out of the way! And he wants to be a hero!

Robin nodded enthusiastically at Batman's words, especially the part about the suit.

Robin (beaming): Yeah, and no cuss words! Just beating up bad guys! Until I turn 16, then he said I can do both!

Batman (pointing a finger at Superman): Yes, he's right about everything he said. And if you want to say anything else, Man of Steel, tread lightly. I am not the one! He is my son; I care about him, and I will punch you while holding kryptonite if you scare him again!

Superman (sighing): Oh, geez, okay, I’m sorry.

Batman breathed deeply to calm himself.

Batman (calmly): Your apology is accepted. I'm just tired of this reaction.

Robin (defending his father): Yeah, me and Papa are good heroes! I love crime fighting; it’s fun! Don’t judge us for our awesomeness!

Batman (gently): Robin, I appreciate the awesomeness part, but please don’t call me Papa while we’re on a job or meeting other heroes.

Robin (apologetically): Oh, sorry, Batman. I love you, Batman!

Robin beamed and hugged his father tightly.

Batman (softening): L… Love you too. You’re in a hugging mood today.

Robin (excitedly): It’s a good day! I met your future best friend!

Batman flushed with embarrassment as Superman glanced back and forth between Robin and Batman.

Batman covered his face, heaving an exhausted sigh that reminded Superman of his dad. He could see that Batman was trustworthy.

And Robin took this as his chance to sneak away and climb a tree.

Superman (smirking): I mean… if this kid makes you less of a jerk and realizes we’re friends, then I guess I’ll overlook the potential kidnapping charges.

Batman (sighing in exasperation): I didn’t— Great, thanks. Robin, let’s go— Where did he go?!

Robin (sitting on a tree branch, gleefully): Batman, look how high I climbed!

Batman (frustrated): Dang it, Robin!

Batman rushed to the tree to help Robin down, while Superman simply shrugged, accepting that the man in black had a child sidekick.

[bumblesimagines]

The Clouds and The Stars

Request: Yes or No

Sequel one shot to The Sun and Moon!

Pronouns: He/Him/His

~~~

Married life... such a curious thing. Many grew up with an expectation as to how it would be, mostly based on their own parents' relationship. There were the happy parents who formed a love match and loved each other with their whole hearts. There were the friendly parents who were more friends than partners but still cared for one another. Then, there were the saddening parents who either due to a forced marriage or perhaps because of time grew to despise each other, only tolerating each other for the sake of their children whom they unknowingly harm with their arguments and jabs. 

(Y/N) grew up with friendly parents. Lucy and Henry had ended their respective social seasons by marrying under the guise of being madly in love in order to chase after what they truly wanted, even if their desires had to be kept behind closed doors and only exposed to trusted individuals. Secrecy had always been a part of his life, even when it involved marriage, and he supposed now, as he lied in bed and watched the sun peek through the curtains, he'd truly followed in his parents' footsteps. At least, however, he'd found someone. Found more than one, in fact. 

"Love," (Y/N) couldn't help but smile as Anthony sighed into his ear, his muscular arm tightening around him and pulling him closer to his chest. Anthony buried his face in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply, lips pressing against his skin before he hooked his chin over (Y/N)'s shoulder. He gently nudged him, a soft grunt leaving him when (Y/N) remained still. "Love."

"What is it?" (Y/N) chuckled and finally shifted, moving onto his back and peering up at Anthony when he propped himself up onto his elbow. Anthony smiled at him, cheeky and pleased, one hand moving to cup his face and rub his thumb soothingly over his cheek, a warm twinkle in his dark eyes. (Y/N) felt his skin flush under such an adoring gaze. 

"I simply wished to see my husband's beautiful face, is all." Anthony cooed, and (Y/N) smile widened tenfold, a bashful and breathy laugh escaping him. They weren't married to each other, not legally or in the eyes of the church at least, but in their hearts and to their families they were. Many in the ton suspected but with Queen Charlotte's silence and Lady Whistledown calling their dance together a 'much-needed change for such dreary balls', anyone with suspicions or beliefs remained silent. Of course, they still had to remain a secret, lest someone grew annoyed enough to reach out to the church. 

"Such a charmer, Anthony." (Y/N) spoke teasingly, sighing softly against Anthony's mouth when he swooped down to kiss him. Anthony pressed harder against his lips and fully rolled over, laying ontop of the painter and only pulling away to trail kisses down his jawline and to his neck. Always so hungry, so needy and clingy. "Anthony, we have things to do-"

"They can wait," Anthony murmured against his skin, one hand slipping under his shirt while the other took his hand and locked their fingers together. (Y/N) rolled his eyes and released a breathy laugh, breath nearly hitching when Anthony needily rolled his hips. "We have time."

"It's an important day, Anthony. Francesca will need her brother today, you know." (Y/N) reminded him, dipping his fingers beneath Anthony's chin and gripping it lightly so he could tilt his head up. Anthony sighed dramatically, putting his full weight down on him and bringing their intertwined hands toward his face, a gentle kiss pressing against the back of (Y/N)'s hand. (Y/N) smiled.

"Suppose we should be quick, then." Anthony grinned mischievously, his free hand pushing up (Y/N)'s shirt and head dipping to pepper kisses along his stomach. 

"Anthony!" (Y/N) tried not to laugh too loudly, mindful of those still slumbering in the nearby rooms. He could hear the maids and servants bustling around, likely readying the house and preparing breakfast. Such a big day for the Bridgerton family again, and yet, there lied the Viscount, acting like a hormonal boy all over again. (Y/N) swatted at his shoulder and pushed himself up but it only prompted Anthony's head to dip even lower. "Anthony Bridgerton!"

Releasing a muffled laugh, Anthony finally relented and sat back, his hand still keeping an iron grip on (Y/N)'s no matter how hard the painter trying to pull back. (Y/N) groaned again in fake annoyance that only made Anthony giggle like a child and reach out to pull him onto his lap. He leaned in, pressing their lips together again. (Y/N) melted against him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, squeezing Anthony's hand and feeling his fingers tighten even more. 

"If only-" (Y/N) leaned back, briefly interrupted when Anthony pecked his lips again. "-you put this much effort into having an heir with Steph." 

"Mm, I've been busy and she seems more than content with her... lady friends," Anthony said, nuzzling his face into (Y/N)'s chest. "If you'd been a lady, I'm certain you'd be expecting by now." 

"Yes, I'm aware. You've made that abundantly clear, Lord Bridgerton. I don't understand how you can have this much stamina." (Y/N) shook his head with a soft laugh, sweetly kissing the top of his head and exhaling softly. "But, I am not a lady nor your wife, Anthony. You need an heir. I'm sure it won't take too many attempts."

"And what of you and Kate? I'm sure you nor she will have this difficulty if you try for children of your own. We have each other's blessings, you know. If you'd like to have a child-"

"We've been breaching the topic, actually." (Y/N) revealed, finally untangling his hand from Anthony's and rising up from the bed, searching for the clothes he kept in Anthony's home for days he spent the night. Because of their predicament regarding Anthony's position as Viscount and their inability to wed publicly or have children, both men agreed to take on brides. Stephanie provided the perfect candidate for Viscountess and (Y/N) had always held affection for Kate. "She's more than happy to have children. She thinks two is a good number, in fact, so they have someone to keep them company."

"How many do you think Steph will want?" Anthony sighed, standing up as well to get dressed.

"Well, if you have a boy first... I think you'll both be content with just one." (Y/N) chuckled, slipping his coat on and adjusting the ends of it while Anthony began taking clothes out of the closet. The thought of parenthood, of fatherhood, hung over the two of them, both exciting and nerve-wracking. The four of them would care for the children together, that'd already been agreed upon, but still... bringing life into the world? It made (Y/N) queasy yet... pleased. 

"If you and I could have children," Anthony whistled sharply, a grin spreading across his face and fingers swiftly buttoning up his shirt. "We'd have a bigger brood than Mother." 

"I don't doubt it." (Y/N) retrieved Anthony's coat from its spot draped over the armrest and approached him, helping him slip his arms through and adjusting it for him. He smiled, finishing the last button of his shirt and fixing the collar before tugging Anthony closer to kiss him. "You're insatiable, Anthony."

"Only for you." Anthony cooed, gearing up to lean in again but the sound of the door opening made him pause.

Stephanie dramatically gasped at the sight of them, lifting a hand to her head and fanning herself rapidly. "Oh, Kate, what ever will we do? How could they do this to us?" She gasped again, a teasing smile stretching across her face as Kate giggled and gently nudged her and walked further into the room. (Y/N) rolled his eyes at Stephanie but smiled widely at Kate, pulling away from Anthony to extend his arms out toward her. 

"My darling wife." He greeted warmly, coiling his arms around her waist and planting a kiss between her brows. Kate hummed softly, leaning her head down to rest it on his shoulder. Stephanie stopped at Anthony's side, taking a quick look over his clothes before nodding approvingly and curling her arm around his. 

"Shall we get to it? Breakfast is ready and Violet has been fretting over Francesca nonstop. She's worried about the poor girl." Stephanie told them and Anthony sighed heavily, leaning over to kiss (Y/N)'s temple and nod to Kate. The Viscount and Viscountess fell into conversation and exited the room, leaving Kate and (Y/N) alone. 

"So, my darling husband," Kate began with a small laugh, lifting her head and smoothing out his shirt with her palms, her keen eyes searching for anything out of place before rising to look him in the eye. She smiled, pecking his cheek. "We have a long day ahead of us, as you know. Ready for this social season?"

"As long as I have you and Anthony and Steph, I'll always be ready."

[iliketangerines]

So I have a headcanon that some places in outworld or just some places in the mk universe have celebrations like rio carnival- with the outfits and dancers- so hear me out- earth realm boys going to outworld for the tournament and there’s a celebration for the tournament going on and reader is the dancer- she’s all dressed up in what they wear ((which is really revealing but also absolutely stunning)) and sings heavenly. The song what is love gave by Janelle Monàe gave me this though- you should totally listen to you.

what is love

a/n: i actually love that song fr

pairing: gn!reader x kung lao, raiden, johnny cage, kenshi takahashi

warnings: none :)

you sit in the dressing room, mussing your hair and making sure it looked perfect for the event, and you apply a final layer of gloss on your lips

you inspect your appearance one more time, standing up to smooth down the dresses in your costume that barely covers your chest and rides up your thighs everytime you walk

but you don’t mind, and you wink at yourself in the mirror to give yourself a bit of confidence before exiting the dress room and wait by the sides of the stage

you can see everyone in there, Empress Sindel and her daughters, General Shao and his loyal dog Reiko, everyone which you’ve sang for before

but this time, you see the Earthrealmers, and you stare at them with wide eyes from between the curtains

they’re quite interesting, dressed different compared to everyone in the room, and it fascinates you

you’ve already seen Liu Kang many many times for different tournaments, and the god spots you peeking through the curtains and gives you a small nod

you smile in response before disappearing behind the curtains to wait for your cue to get up on stage and perform

you hear the music start to play, and you come from behind the curtains and present yourself, hands tracing up your body and lifting the material slightly

you take a few deep breaths and listen for the musical cue and start to sing, sweeping your eyes over the people in the banquet hall before settling your gaze on the Earthrealmers

you smile at them and weave your way through the crowd, singing high and clear, and they watch you enraptured by the way you sway your hips and make your way toward them

they’ll never be here for another tournament, and so you decide to give them a bit of a special treat, crooning at them as you tilt the head up of a man with a bladed hat

he gives you a cocky smirk and holds onto your hand gently and kisses the back of it, and you shoot him a wink as you continue to sing

your hand traces over the shoulders of their champion that you had seen earlier fight against Li Mei, and he flushes pink

you smile at his shyness, and he gives you a gentle smile

you walk away from him and approach another man dressed in purple and silver armor with brown hair, and he gives you a large smirk

you approach him, and he stands up holding out his hand for you to take

you take his hand, singing loud and clear, and he spins you in a small circle and gives you a small wink

you just trace his jawline as you move past him, sending him a small glance as you approach the final Earthrealm champion, a man with dark hair and red armor

he doesn’t smile at you, just gives a hard glare, and he crosses his arms as if sizing you up

you smile at him, singing out the last part of your chorus, and you trace his jaw and tilt his head up to look at you, leaning in close as you sing out the last part of the song

you can hear the banquet applause, and you see a slight flush color the man’s cheeks

it’s all you need as you prance away from the table and start your next song, making your rounds through the tables and giving the other guests a similar treatment

at the end of your act, you go back to the stage and finish off strong before giving a deep bow and going off stage

you give the Earthrealmers one final peek and find them staring after you, and you give them a friendly wave and disappear behind the curtains

you would haunt their dreams with your beautiful and haunting voice, always wanting you and needing more