#then again I'm quite happy with how the drawing turned out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anantaru · 9 months ago

Text

— comforting you on a bad day

including — scaramouche, wriothesley, alhaitham, childe x gn! reader

genre — fluff, hurt -> comfort

— scaramouche

scaramouche finds you sitting on the couch, burying your face into your hands.

easy to see, he knew you must've had a bad day or that something inconvenient must've happen to you— and unquestionably, he feels a slight function of heartache when you're suddenly pulling your head up to look at him walk towards you, gloom settling on his countenance.

scaramouche doesn't say anything at first, he doesn't want to make you overwhelmed or like you had to talk about it, it was up to you if you wanted of course. but it was interesting to see how dependable he was on your happiness, because the man detested seeing your smile fade, he'd do anything to bring it back— as soon as you're sad, unahappy or dejected, he's beginning to feel it with you.

he was angry— bend out of his usual shape because he cannot find a quick solution to this, he just doesn't want to see you covered in a gloomy mask.

however, instead of resorting back to his past methods of handling situations such as those, especially the ones that come close to his own emotions, scaramouche decides to take a seat right next to you before placing his hand on his knee, but with his palm facing up— you see, as if to invite you to take it.

hopefully you do.

"you're quiet," he inquires shortly after, tilting his head to look at you, "on any other day, you'd greet me the moment i walk through that door," he purses his lips a little, the hand on his knee quietly turning impatient, like he's scared you won't take it— or even worse, what if he's the reason you felt this way?

troubled, scaramouche proceeds to look at you, and it might not come across like it since it can be quite difficult for him to show his proper feelings— but he'd do anything for you right now, if there's something he could do in order for your smile to appear again, he'd do it without batting an eye.

his throat lets go of a dry sigh when you take his hand sweetly before resting your head against his shoulder, holding your breath as you exhale through a crumbling heave.

scaramouche's grip on you tightens, "who did this to you?" he decides to ask, his voice growing an octave louder, ultimately signalizing the despair he felt from seeing you like this, "is there someone who made you feel this way? someone i should be aware of?" scaramouche had to know if there was a third party that was involved and most importantly, responsible for this— if so, you could easily leave it to him to take care of it.

you sniffle, the grip your hand had on his palm strengthening, "no one, it's just me," you embarrassingly rub your cheek against his shoulder as he leans back into the couch so you could make yourself more comfortable, "i just had a bad day, that's all," and as badly as your eyes wanted to flutter shut, you were frightened to do so due to possible tears dousing your cheeks.

for some reason, you didn't want him to see you cry— despite the fact that you would never be judged nor laughed at by him.

the man loves you dearly, he could tell the entire world about it— draw warm and tender words on a pavement blossoming with roses. it's truly a magical feeling, turning to dizzying deeds and actions when he gets to kiss and hug you, touch and caress you.

scaramouche whispers your name softly when he slowly runs his thumb to circle around your hand, "hey, you don't have to be sad anymore," at his sentence, you curiously turn your head up as best as you can when his eyes flitter down at you.

"i mean, since i'm back from the akademiya now, we can spend all night together," you make a hum of appreciation before shifting yourself into him so you're lying as close to your boyfriend as possible, "—besides," scaramouche continues as he rests his head against yours, his mind and spirit soothing yours, "if someone is, in fact, responsible for your sadness, i might need to take care of something else first."

you chuckle, believing he's joking before opting to peck his cheek as at the same time, he pulls you in for a proper kiss— ah well, how sweet, you're smiling now, he can sense it as denseness lifts from your shoulders.

strongly invaded by a warm cradle around your whole face, scaramouche silently takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, "i told you," he sternly reminds you, whispering his words as his brows narrowed, the muscles in your face beginning to soften upon receiving his homely touch.

"i won't let anyone or anything sadden you, doesn't matter what it is, i will make sure you're being taken care of."

— wriothesley

you do not move an inch, your body hemmed in a draining blanket that fueled a negative spot in your heart, but do not be mistaken because within this cold, you can feel the warmth of wriothesley's love all the more.

you're like a sheet of glass right now, utterly still, eyes open as if gazing into a dark hole, unable to move a single muscle by how challenging this day had been for you.

as soon as he shrouds your body against his arms and pushes you into his chest, your eyes are glazed in warm liquid that cover the majority of your cheeks, slowly eating away at your skin. your boyfriend doesn't mind when you're crying in front of him, quite the reverse actually, he sees it as you trusting him so much, that you're willing to be vulnerable in front of him.

as soon as he kisses your forehead in reassurance, the force of the impact your emotions have caused on your mental state lift a little, paired with your general feelings resulting in you stumbling forward into his embrace, your hands clumsily scrambling at his jacket as you sniffle into his chest.

in your relationship you didn't need to hide your raw emotions, not only would wriothesley see through you right away, but it's, bluntly saying, pointless to do that in the first place. the man knows that in this moment in time, he needs to be there for you, and he doesn't expect you to be happy and positive all the time.

yet seeing you like this feels like losing a limb, because you're completing wriothesley in a way, you're like a puzzle piece fixing his heart— the fear of being unable to help you, give you what you need was scrambling into his body and mind, and if you ultimately sought after it, the duke would gladly destroy anything to make you happy, including himself.

"sorry, am i being too much?" you sniffle out before rubbing your eyes to get rid of the blur, honestly clueless as to why you're apologizing in the first place, "i think you must've expected our date to turn out differently," you continue, it was all you could shove past the heavy lump in your throat. you're holding yourself on a single thread, deep breathes and hefty swallows, your soft fingers slipping beneath the back of his neck.

wriothesley smiled, feeling the pull of it behind his heart, he disliked whenever you were apologizing for things you cannot control, not to mention when they were so human too.

"not at all, do not say that," he answers, holding you close, "you will never be able to be too much for me," he promises as he sighs out, one last octave teasing the following as his lips slowly move with a warm tenderness on your forehead once he places a kiss on you.

— alhaitham

alhaitham will not touch you, yes, he will sit next to you and offer a shoulder for you to lean on if you so seek it, but he will not begin to speak first nor say anything at all— wether it's questioning your current state or beginning to somehow figure it out on his own.

instead, he just listens to you.

you can talk to your boyfriend about everything, he does not care if it's pointless gossip you've overheard the other day, or you talking about this new, exciting hobby you found or like now, something that has pulled and squeezed at your heart like you're unable to breathe anymore.

he will not interrupt you, the man will make sure you can scream your heart out of your chest if it means that you feel better afterwards. he's a good listener and when you tell him everything that's on your mind, alhaitham will subconsciously ponder about possible solutions on how to help you out.

"nothing could be more human than this, don't ever feel like you have to hide this from me," he says as your tears slip beyond your control, rushing uncontrollably. alhaitham desired you beyond any significant reason, he has fallen for you and such fact will never falter, it's beyond native intelligence, beyond common sense.

although sometimes, he can trail off, it's cute, especially when he's catching himself admiring his darling, "you're so beautiful, have i told you that today?" for a second, right after you tipple over his words, your body is unable to react, and then you cannot help yourself but let go of a chuckle.

his sudden compliment came so unexpected regardless of your boyfriend being blunt by nature, "you're telling me this while i'm crying and looking like a mess?" your lips curve into a flustered smile, cutting through your initial weary facade. the chilling waves that flung into your body surely caused havoc, but it was almost frightening by how fast alhaitham could change your mood.

"I thought you should know," he ponders, softly pushing your head up so you could look at him, "you're always beautiful to me, that has nothing to do with how you're feeling,"

shortly after, you lean into a tender kiss, chasing the love he was always providing you with— this time, simply feeling him once wasn't enough, so you kiss him again, again and again, leaving him with enlarged pupils as he pulls gently away.

— childe

childe will find things to make you feel better, heavy emphasized on the find.

it's something he has to get done and despite the fact that he might not seem like it, he feels it with you, everything, it impact him, regardless if you're being drained that day, saddened or if it even has anything to do with him in the first place.

naturally, he'd also pamper you so you're feeling more comfortable, but such wasn't necessarily a new in your relationship, he clearly has a habit of spoiling you to bits— the celestial bodies decorating the world, yes, ajax would reach for the stars in the sky if you so wished for them.

you're aware that he's mostly absent due to his work requiring him for the most times, but he'd make sure to be by your side the moment he realizes you're genuinely not feeling well. childe is quite adapt of finding a way to make what he wants to achieve possible so do not worry yourself, he will never let you down.

for all that, do not get greatly surprised when he's starting to throw around unfunny jokes his brother might've told him or tell you a story about how hilariously weird his fellow colleagues can be, not to mention scary which was rib-tickling in its own manner.

the man will get nervous too and it's cute, it's his first serious relationship and he doesn't want to do anything wrong. also, important side note but it goes without saying that him being this adorable will already lift your mood a bit.

he's also a little overwhelmed by the situation and is scared to make it somehow worse for you. little does he realize that you're so thankful to him, in fact, you do not need him to magically solve the problems for you, your boyfriend just being here and listening was enough to find comfort.

it's all the more charming, he is, how he smiles from head to toe when you're searching his snug, pleasant hugs when he lets you sob into his chest.

"you're so comfy," you mumble into his jacket before rubbing your cheek over the place where you could faintly notice his fastened heart thumping beneath his ribcage.

your message makes him immediately blush, scarlet red catching his skin and setting it ablaze as he averts his gaze a little to conceal it.

childe doesn't necessarily think he's good at comforting somebody, but he shows you another smile when you gaze up at him, his grin close-lipped but bright as a bared tooth, "i'm sorry, i know i have neglected you recently," you recognize the weary weight of his words, how they're crumpling off his face, "my work, ugh, i know i should've been there for you more," he groans, "you don't deserve to be alone all the time,"

"it's not your fault," you draw a shaky gasp, panicked arms flying to his neck to wrap around him, "you're here now, aren't you?" your eyes glow, flickering with an impression that he cannot forget, it's boiling over until reaching the surface of your complete countenance, "can you stay for the night? only if it's possible," you reluctantly continue.

it's important to note that you really do not fault him, childe was not only providing for his family, but he wanted to give you a life where you do not have to worry about the material aspect of living.

ajax slides his large palm soothingly along the shiver of pain wracking your frame as he listlessly rests his head against yours, "i'll stay as long as you want me to, until you're feeling better, until you can smile again."

2K notes · View notes

gguk-n · 5 months ago

Text

The Exception (Max Verstappen x Reader)

Summary- 4 times Max let y/n get away with whatever she wanted and 1 time he didn't.

I just have so much love for maxie and I wanna show it so it came out as this. Hope you like it!! I hope maxie is only loved tbh

Max was very young when he had moved to a Netherland. If someone asked him when it was, he'd probably never be able to tell. But he could tell you about the annoying neighbours he had growing up. Yes, he did spend most of his time karting and didn't have the time at home or in school like normal kids his age would but the fleeting moments spent at that house in Netherland left behind fond memories that he can look back and only because of a certain little girl with chubby cheeks and two identical braids on either side of her head who had made quite a place in his life. Jos wasn't very happy with Max wasting his time entertaining those kids but he couldn't do much when the children's father was a tall bulky man who could take Jos out in one punch, insisted on letting the kids play together. The tall man had 3 kids Max noticed when he had dinner at their place for the first time; the oldest being the girl who we mentioned before followed by 2 younger brothers who seemed to love karting. They asked Max so many questions about it that they got scolded by their mother for ruining dinner for everyone but Max thought was cute because the youngest couldn't even pronounce karting but had a lot to say. Every time he would spend time with his neighbours, it would always be with the 2 young boys who wanted to learn how to kart better and become like Max like the younger one put it. Even now it makes Max laugh reminiscing about those days. They never really made it professionally though.

2008

Max and the 2 boys were playing around when their older sister asked if they would like to join her for a session of afternoon tea with Mr Whale and Miss Teapot. The brothers made a face of disgust and ran away from her, dejected she turned around when Max agreed. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She quickly dragged him into her room and had him sit next to Mr Longneck, the giraffe. An hour later Max was found in Y/N's room with two pigtails if you could call them that on the top of his head, a tiara and the prettiest necklace Y/N owned. Looking at himself in the mirror he couldn't help but laugh. Y/N on the contrary looked pleased with her handy work. She thanked him for being a good and compliant customer and to come back again if he ever wanted to look pretty. It wasn't easy to get Max to do what you wanted except he couldn't say no to her puppy eyes. She even gave him a drawing of him in his kart saying that it would bring him good luck since she couldn't be there and placed her favourite bracelet on his hand.

If Y/N was to ask him about the bracelet, Max would say he lost it as soon as she gave it to him, but deep down in the watch drawer of Max's Monaco apartment sat a brightly neon pink bracelet with Y/N’s initials.

2014

Y/N had started highschool and remained the annoying self Max had come to love. Her over the top demeanor and affection to screaming at the top of her lungs whenever she spotted Max never failed to make him smile. Having joined Formula one this year, meant Max was way to busy to be home but Y/N seemed to never forget to text him regularly. She would ask him to get autographs of other drivers or souvenirs from different countries. It was a regular race weekend when Y/N texted Max asking him to explain how the engine in a go kart worked. In a split second Max was on call with her asking "why she needed that?" to which she replied "I'm doing a project on that. I even made a small scale replica of your cart Look here!!!" She exclaimed. "I just need to shrink you and place you inside it" Y/N laughed. Max told her not to worry and that he would text her the details in a hour or so. Actually it took a couple hours and Y/N was starting to get agitated and called him back. Max replied with a almost done and smiled at her. He had literally written her entire report for her and sent it to review. Y/N almost screamed when she saw the assignment. She thanked Maxie for doing this for her and that she owed him her life. Max was just happy to be of help, he told himself more than he told her because who stays up till 5 in the morning on a race weekend doing someone else’s project.

He kept the small scale replica of his Kart on the mantle above the fireplace if anyone wanted to know what happened to the kart.

2018

Y/N was freshly 18, so getting drunk was the only thing on her agenda. On a night out, she was so drunk that no one could get her to move because she wanted her Maxie and would only leave with Maxie, she enunciated. Her friend was able to open up Y/N phone and thankfully find a Maxie in her favourite contacts. She called the number to be met with a groggy but worried voice. "Hi! This is Y/N's friend Kate speaking. Am I speaking with a....maxie?" she said tentatively. Max let out a sign while rubbing his eyes, "Yes, this is Max speaking." "Can you come pick Y/N up?" She asked hesitantly followed by, "She won't leave with anyone but you apparently." Max was already out of bed and near the door when he said "I'll be there in 10, where are you guys at?" She sent him the location and waited for 'maxie'. Nothing could've prepared them for this. They had thought Maxie was a friend, a boyfriend maybe even a neighbour; they did not think Maxie was Max Verstappen, F1 driver for Redbull racing. He apologised for the inconvenience and crouched down to Y/N level who seemed to have realised that he was here. She cupped his cheeks and giggled while turning his head to the crowd of people standing, "Look, this is my Maxie." Hearing Y/N say my maxie made his heart beat faster then it should've, he admits but that girl had a tight hold on his heart and he couldn't really do much about it. She stood up and wrapped her arms around Max asking him to carry her since her legs felt like mush. Max gladly carried her back to his car, as he fastened her seat belt she asked him to take her back to his place since her parents would probably disown her if she come in drunk for the 6th time this week. Max looked shocked and asked her to stop drinking so much since it wasn't good for her. All Y/N could mumble was that the alcohol made the pain in her heart bearable. This broke Max's heart. Who would dare hurt his precious little angel, if he met that guy he was so dead, Max thought. Little did he know that guy was the one driving her back home.

Y/N was a nuisance when drunk, she reminded him of the little girl he had befriended when he moved here. She wouldn't listen to anything he asked her to do that night until he agreed to let her do make up on him which he would gladly agree to, real or not.

2022

Y/N had recently graduated and was looking for a place to stay. It was one of those nights after a fruitless apartment hunt Y/N facetimed Max. He looked very comfortable in his sim racing chair in his luxurious apartment in Monaco having moved recently. "Maxie" the younger girl sighed. "Meisje, what's the problem?" came a concerned voice. "I can't seem to find a decent apartment, I've been at it for months now." she said. Max offered to help her find the right place and Y/N started listing out all the things she wanted in her apartment which was sounding a lot like Max current apartment which was true, that was Y/N's dream apartment currently; after seeing it a couple months ago when she had visited him as a housewarming surprise and even held a party for him. "You can move to Monaco, the house you're looking for is here" Max said. After a long pause Y/N replied with a chuckle, "I don't make formula 1 money. I'm too broke to afford a house here. In Monaco, I'd have to sell my organs to afford a place there." As if it was the most obvious thing, Max offered her to stay at his place and look for a job here.

The allure of Monaco was too much and Y/N was able to thankfully find a job there so that she wouldn't be completely dependent on Max which he wouldn't have minded. Max never let her pay rent, he'd always tell her to cook good food and that was rent sorted.

2023

It was the night of the Abu Dhabi grand prix. Max had just won his third WDC so him and his friends decided to go out to celebrate, Y/N included. The night carried on as usual, Max not touching much of the alcohol since Y/N decided to down drinks like a thirsty person. She was now in the middle of the dance floor making herself familiar with Lando's crotch, much to Max's dismay. He made his way to her and led her away from Lando while she shouted at him to let her go. They were now stood in the quieter part of the club but you could still hear the music blasting. Y/N looked visibly annoyed at being taken away from the dance floor. "You are drunk, you'll regret it tomorrow." Max said. "That's for sober me to deal with. Drunk me just wants to forget about everything and having an eventful night with a guy would do just the trick." she said. Max winced at the words and held her arms so that she could steady herself. "I don't wanna feel like this," was this the alcohol giving her the confidence, "the guy I've been in love with for ages can't seem to see me as a woman. I've been trying for years now. If I walked out naked, I'm sure he wouldn't even be phased." she sounded dejected. "Any guy would want you, Meisje." Max whispered. "But not the one I do" she stepped closer, enough that their breaths mingled. The woman in front of him was driving Max mad, had she not been drunk he would've shown her how much any man would want her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes before saying, "He's so dumb, can't even see the woman in front of him." The statement felt oddly targeted. "You know, he's a 3 time world drivers champion and he doesn't even get that I love him so much." she said while looking into his eyes. "You're in love with me?" Max exclaimed. "I have been since the day you let me make pigtails on your hair but thanks for realising now." she replied sarcastically. "You're drunk, you don't know what your saying" Max replied. "Well, sober me would never tell you this but I love you Max Verstappen. So much that you make my heart beat faster and my chest swell when you look at me. I think about marrying you and having a family with you, but you think I'm joking." she declared. Max couldn't help but smiled, "Tell me all of this in the morning when you're sober so that I can tell you that I love you too schat and then I can finally kiss you." "You can kiss me now" Y/N made a kissy face and eagerly leaned in. Max shook his head and carried her back to the hotel room.

Y/N indeed remembered everything and the first thing she did even though she wreaked of alcohol was finally kiss those soft pink lips.

this is just brain rot at this point. hope you liked it

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #lando norris

1K notes · View notes

messylustt · 1 year ago

Text

݁ 𓂃 ៸៸៸ maybe more? — miguel o’hara + reader: you make a decision that miguel isn’t too pleased about. miguel doesn’t like this ‘someone’.

contents : includes fluff :(( bit of angst (ends well). mentions of cheating (not miguel or reader) — pls let’s just ignore the comic miguel (coz he may or may not have cheated) and focus on movie miguel. thank you. wc 1.4k.

pt one pt two pt three

you walked alone, head muffled. you've found taking one step in front of the other helps focus those muffled voices. maybe then you could make sense of them. maybe then your heart wouldn't feel so heavy.

so, toe after toe you ventured around HQ, humming a soft tune to focus on your breath rather than the voices you found you couldn't make out. but then there was a clearer one, a deeper one, getting your attention.

you look up to see miguel eyeing you and your distracted self. you smile. "miguel, hey."

miguel's eyes dart. ever since the news of your hug had circled the spider society every spider-person had made their own assumption. lovers? close friends? related?—that was a strange and short lived one to circulate. but people could just not fathom how miguel would ever want to hug anyone. you being a family member seemed more plausible at the time.

but now everyone has circled back to potential lovers. but you have someone. had someone... you aren't too sure. because the reminded tug at your heartstrings earns your smile to slightly drop. miguel notices. his inspection of you turning more detailed. "you don't look annoyingly happy." he states monotonously.

you focus your gaze and push away your heart, placing that smile you always seemed to bear back on. "what? you mean how you don't look everyday?" you tilt your head.

to outsiders you would seem normal, fine, happy. but to miguel you seemed far from it. to miguel you seemed troubled, not yourself. and it sets an uncomfortable feeling low in his stomach. he didn't like not seeing you as your bright, bubbly self. Because slowly you had become his rock, his comfort of sorts. and if you weren't stable, how could he ever be?

he steps closer, tapping your chin to raise it up, as you had begun to get distracted in the slightly shiny floor. you meet his gaze, forcing that smile back on. but Miguel places two clawed fingers against your cheeks, drawing that smile down. "don't smile unless you mean it." he muttered.

you were quite surprised by how intensively he had begun to take note of you. you had caught him always eyeing you in briefings, or in the cafeteria (if you can call it that). it now kinda makes sense the whole assumption of 'lovers'. but you weren't. and you personally didn't think you'd ever be. miguel wasn't the type.

you step backwards, away from his close hold, and miguel has the urge to pull you back, his hand slightly moving with you to hold your wrist. "are you free?" he asks quietly. and now you could spot the slight bags under his eyes, proving his need for "comfort".

but you had been thinking. though it's been nice, and you haven't minded it. miguel's hands have begun to drift more permanently around you. the hugs had become to feel far more intimate. you have someone...had someone...someone who you still liked, and someone who you hoped still liked you.

that's where the confusion settled, and the tug of your heart. you couldn't carry on this...whatever this thing was with miguel. it wasn't right. because your feelings had began to not feel right. you have/had someone.

you take your hand away from his hold and miguel's eyes narrow, quickly darting up to your face again. you place that forced smile back on and miguel's lips twitch in a snarl. He didn't want you to be fake around him.

"i'm sorry...not this time...I'm...busy." you space the words out far too randomly and of course miguel takes notice.

"this time?"

you gulp. "and maybe next time."

miguel grinds his teeth. "and the time after that?" he speaks a fraction harsher.

"...and the time after that." you confirm, looking away from his gaze, because you did feel bad. but it wasn't right being that alone and intimate when you have…had—god, just whatever this 'someone' was, point blank you felt it was wrong.

you stand straighter, finally meeting his gaze. and you almost flinch. not because of an expected hardness, but because of a soft...desperation? That couldn't be right... miguel didn't need your hugs like he does air...no.

yes. miguel has been forced to realise that himself. he does need your hugs, he craves them. and in all honesty he hadn't had the chance to think of himself without them. but here you stand, telling him 'that's it'.

"that's it, then?" he asks slowly.

you slowly nod. "i am sorry. but I know for a fact that peter is a great hugger. plus his pink dressing gown makes everything fluffy—“

miguel cuts you off. "peter? you really think i want a hug from him?"

you shrug. "as i said: great hugger."

miguel opens his mouth then pauses. "how do you know that?"

"uh...well, cause I've hugged him before?" you lightly chuckle.

maybe miguel had also noticed the 'intimacy' that had grown between your hugs. because now his chest is aching with a form of...jealousy? over peter? and not in the way a lover feels jealous necessarily. but in the way he wanted your hugs for himself.

yes, that made him selfish, and probably unreasonable. but he liked the thought of something so special as a hug from you being something for him. and now you were saying no, and offering peter up as a substitute? no one could substitute you. no one.

so, miguel began to shake his head. "do you really think that peter's hug could suffice for yours?" he narrowed his eyes, seeing if you truly believed that.

you again shrug. "it's just a hug, isn't it?" because if it was something more than you were right to stop this. miguel's jaw clenched. it was supposed to be, wasn't it? a bit of relief.

maybe that relief has turned into an addiction? maybe the term 'a simple hug' has turned into so much more? all miguel knew was that he didn't want to stop this. he didn't want to not be able to have your body pressed against his.

a voice suddenly calls your name, making you spin. your heart thumps, seeing that 'someone' walk up. a 'peter' spider-man variant. generic, so you chose to call him by his middle name, 'jessy'. named after his childhood dog.

"jessy..." your smile was the brightest miguel thinks he's ever seen. and that seems to only dampen his already soured mood. "finished a mission?" you eye his heaving chest.

jessy nods, looping his arms around your waist and giving your cheek a kiss. miguel almost flinched at the visual, his gaze getting caught up in jessy's hand. it's placement somewhere miguel had used quite often. but then miguel looks back to Jessy's face. and then back to your bright smile.

you two couldn't be...because that would mean...jessy had cheated.

miguel remembers passing by a room, moans and whimpers piercing the otherwise silence. miguel had pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering in annoyance. he banged on the door, not daring to look in. "this is communal space...you know that right?" he growled out, as he heard the moans quiten, as voices muttered together. "get out of the office." and then he left, but not before his gaze caught the sight of jessy's face and the girl that certainly wasn't you.

miguel would probably have reacted differently if he'd seen you there, pressed against jessy like that.

miguel now hardens his gaze on jessy, because then he leant forward and pecked your lips, making miguel's claws cut skin. your bright smile showed that you were oblivious to jessy's "secret" doings. but that's why your heart tugged so hard. you knew. those muffled voices were your subconscious trying to drown out thoughts of reason.

things like 'you deserve better', 'don't let him kiss you'...'end it'. all those sensible thoughts getting shoved into a basin of water, left to drown and die. you hated to admit to yourself that someone had cheated on you. it made more prominent thoughts circle the top of the water, free from harm. 'am I not good enough?', 'did I do something wrong?'...'it's probably my fault'.

miguel speaks your name, making you shift your gaze to him. "a mission. you're needed." he says, beginning to walk away. a mission? but you follow anyway, waving jessy goodbye as you slipped into miguel's office.

"sorry, i didn't know i had one today. i would've been more prepared—"

"jessy..." miguel is turning back to you, brows furrowed as he thinks of how to word this. "how long?"

your brows furrow a moment, before the lines smooth. "...a decent while. why?"

miguel grinds his teeth. "there isn't...really anyway to put this..."

you lightly chuckle, trying to ease the settling tension. "you...okay?"

no. he wasn't. because you had said to 'stop this'. but now wasn't the time... "i caught..." god, this was a lot harder to say then he had initially thought.

but when he had said that you had begun to clock on. it's not a surprise someone else had seen them. they were being rather loud. your smile had begun to fade as you muttered. "i...i know..."

miguel immediately looks up at this. "what?..."

you lick your lips, avoiding eye contact. "i appreciate you trying to tell me. that must have been annoying to hold." you lightly chuckle. but this time its void of any happiness. "but just...can you please forget you saw anything?"

you finally meet his gaze, fiddling with your fingers, as you try not to produce a sad expression. but miguel catches it. he always does. his chest is beginning to heave. because jessy cheated on you, of all people. and you knew about it. and you still let him touch and kiss you.

miguel wasn't having any of it.

he stalked forward, making you slightly stumble back. "i'm sorry...did i catch that wrong? you knew? you fucking knew, and you let him..." he's breathing hard, and you don't know why he's so worked up.

"it's...complicated, alright?" you say. "and if that's all, i think i'll go." you move to turn but miguel is grabbing you back, forcing you close to him, because he was pissed.

"you let him touch you...kiss you. after he touched and kissed someone else?" miguel's words are harsh and they bite at your heart.

your face has actually fallen to a scowl. "i again appreciate the concern, or whatever. but you have no place to say that."

you'd hugged a few times. that's it. miguel isn't blind to that fact. but he can't be blind to the one that is making him want to tear jessy to shreds. "maybe it's not. but i'm making it my place. because you aren't doing anything about it. you can't just let him touch you after—“

"he's touched someone else. yeah, i got it, miguel." you try to get out of his tight grip again, but to no avail. "miguel." you say harsher. because all this talk about jessy feeling up someone else is making your heart crack wide open, leaving tears to well in your eyes. you didn't want to cry.

crying would mean that the basin full of water would drain, leaving you to the dead carcasses of your reasonable thoughts. you don't think you could face yourself after seeing that.

"let. go." you say slowly, willing the frog in your throat to just hop away. miguel's grip only tightens, because he's noticing your glistening eyes, he's noticing your crumbling stature. and in all honesty he wants to catch you. this time be the one to comfort you.

so, he brings you closer, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck, as he engulfs your waist in a hug. and that's when you finally break, tears spilling as your hiccuped sniffles meet miguel's ears, only making him hold you tighter.

you were crying into his neck, that basin now draining as you tightened your hold around miguel like a lifeline. after a while miguel had begun whispering things in your ear, as you took note of the empty basin full of your dead reasonable thoughts. "you deserve so much better...he doesn't deserve any bit of you...por favor."

you had never heard miguel sounding so sincere...so vulnerable, even though you were the one crying. then his lips were grazing your ear, drawing you even closer if possible. "don't let him kiss you...don't let him...touch you..." and then as his hands had begun to find solace under your split suit by your hips, rubbing your warm skin, he whispered "...end it".

he had spoken all those dead thoughts of yours. given his own voice in turn for your faulty subconscious. he wanted you to listen to him, seeing your hesitance in leaving ejssy. through sniffles you say "i don't know...if i can..."

"why not?" miguel's tone had entirely softened, your breathing—even though shaky—still your breathing against his neck, calming him.

"i...don't know." you finally say. because you didn't. maybe in truth you felt you couldn't get much better. you didn't want to lose someone that had been so prominent in your life. and miguel seemed to read between the lines, or maybe you head said that out loud?

"you can get anyone...cariño...really anyone." miguel muttered, open mouth dragging close to your ear. "and i..." he drifts off, making you lean your head away, brushing your tear stained cheeks as you met his gaze. miguel tightened his hold around your waist, scared you were going to step farther away, and so he rushed the rest out. "i can be more prominent."

you stare at him, eyes widening a fraction. miguel licks his lips. "can...i be more prominent?"

your mouth is opening and closing. "prominent?" you ask, feeling stupid.

miguel actually feels nervous as he stares down at your slight red eyes and nose, his hand moving up to brush more tears away. "or be just...more."

"more?"

"mhm." miguel hums, the air feeling calmer. your muffled voices now gone in replace for miguel's. "please end it."

you gulp. miguel hasn't stopped caressing your face and waist, not until you agreed. maybe not even after that. "por favor...please."

then you found yourself nodding, and miguel doesn't think he's ever felt so...happy. In a very long time at least. and then he was drawing you back in, this time with his breath tickling your neck, his lips actually drawing in an almost kiss. "gracias, mi cariño....gracias.”

you had always liked his hugs. maybe they had brought you comfort too. maybe they give you more solace then you think you needed. and as miguel actually began to lift you, placing you on his desk, he found a new position, with your legs widened around his hips, his hands circled around your waist, his head in your neck, and the faint brush of his lips that you could quite possibly call a kiss.

more. this provided you two with more.

3K notes · View notes

woso-dreamzzz · 4 months ago

Text

Grouchy II

Katrina Gorry x Baby!Reader

Summary: Mini thinks she's not giving you enough attention

It's a random tweet that sent Katrina on this tailspin.

It shouldn't have even caught her interest but it did. It shouldn't have even made its way onto her feed but it did. It was just a throw away tweet, like one of those inside jokes fans randomly have that the players could never really hope to understand.

But, still, Mini read it and now, she couldn't stop thinking about it.

'Still kind of funny that we see Harper all the time but not y/n. Favouritism perhaps? 🤪🤪🤪'

At first, she thought it was complete crap. Of course there was no favouritism in the house. Mini loves both you and Harper equally. You're both her kids.

But, as she lay caged in Clara's arms one night, she couldn't stop thinking about how right the tweet was. Not the stuff about favouritism but the stuff about not seeing you as much as Harper.

Harper is all over Mini's and West Ham's social media but you aren't. You feature a bit more heavily on Clara's account but that's only because you're usually in Clara's company more because Mini's at training.

There's no favouritism, at least nothing that Mini does on purpose. But she can't help but think.

Harper goes to kindie and Mini is quick to take care of you in the morning. It was her only day off in a while and the plan was for Clara to drop Harper off at kindie and take you out to meet some of her friends while Mini got to sleep in.

Mini, instead, insists that she'll get up at normal time so the two of you can hang out while Clara can fully enjoy her time with her friends.

"Alright, bubs," Mini says as she all but shoves Clara out of the door," What do you want to do?"

You wrinkle your nose up at her before turning away to play with your drum.

Mini sits down in front of your as you bang your drum with a closed fist. It's a bit embarrassing to think that she isn't quite sure how to play with you. You've got such a grumpy disposition that even doing something you enjoy is usually done with a frown.

Mini isn't quite sure when you're actually having fun and when you're not.

She reaches for your other drum and you stop banging to look at her. Mini bangs on her drum too.

She watches your reaction but you don't really give one so she bangs on it again and again.

You screech once in warning and Mini freezes.

You bum shuffle towards her and grab her hand.

She's been banging on the drum with an open hand instead of a fist so you force her hand into one before shuffling back to your drum.

You demonstrate with your own fist and wait.

Mini hits the drum in the same way and you seem satisfied, going back to playing again.

"Are you having fun, Bubs?" She asks and you kind of just grunt in some semblance of an answer.

Eventually, you get bored of your drum, kicking it away and standing up.

You fetch a book from the book corner before collapsing onto Mini's lap. Her arms come around you instantly and you clumsily open the book.

"Do you want me to read that for you?" She asks and you shove it into her hands.

It's one of those silly books made out of cardboard but Mini can't remember the last time she read to you so she's happy to do it, putting on an excited voice to try and draw you in.

You keep bringing her more books after that and Mini can happily say that this morning has been a success in her eyes.

You're still open to her affection and attention. She hasn't messed up too badly. So long as she makes sure to lather you in attention behind closed doors then it doesn't matter what people on the internet say.

"I'm home!" Clara calls out as she opens the door and suddenly you're shuffling away from Mini over to where the stuffed toys are waiting.

"Clara!" Mini laughs teasingly," You scared her off!"

Clara gives her an odd look. "I'm surprised she was even sitting on you. You know what Bubs is like."

Mini frowns. "Huh?"

Clara keeps talking as she takes off her shoes and coat. "You can never get that girl to willingly have cuddles with someone."

Objectively, Mini knows that. Capturing you for your bedtime kiss and cuddle is always a bit of a struggle and Mini's never really seen you sitting on Clara's lap during the day either.

"We read a story together," She replies and Clara laughs.

She crouches down in front of you, swiping a hand through your hair. Your brow wrinkles in answer as you turn to look at her.

"Did you read a book with Mummy because you see her do it with Harper?"

You don't answer.

"Huh?" Clara continues, poking you in one of your chubby cheeks that you puff out in annoyance. "Were you trying to make Mummy happy by doing something she does with your sister? You're such a sweetheart, Bubs."

"I...What?" Mini demands and Clara keeps laughing.

"Mini," She says," You know Bubs doesn't like playing with people. She did it because it makes you happy."

"But the book-"

"They're Harper's books."

"The drum-"

"Harper's drum."

"Did...Did I get duped by a baby?"

Mini must be imagining it but she's sure that she can see a smug little smirk on your face before you turn around to gnaw on the arm of one of your toys.

"Apparently so."

#woso x reader #katrina gorry x reader #katrina gorry #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

564 notes · View notes

lightsoutletsgo · 8 months ago

Text

names the f1 drivers would call their partner ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

word count: 2k

warnings: cheesy cringy fluff I just thought this was a cute little idea so I decided to turn it into a whole post of it's own! I noticed that I've kind of started assigning names to specific drivers just because that's the vibe I get from them! as always this is entirely personal opinion. happy reading! mimi ₊˚❀.ೃ࿔*:･ it isn't all the drivers bc I don't write for the entire grid but if you wanted to see one driver in particular then pls send in a request and I'll see what I can do!

cl.16 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔ Ma belle (my beautiful or my lovely) Simple and sounds divine when it rolls off the tongue with the French accent! Charles can't remember when he first called you the name because it's all he ever calls you! He adores the way you smile when you hear it and knowing you like it just as much as he does makes him say it again and again and again.

"Ma belle" is the first thing you hear as your eyes slowly blink open in the morning light. You smile happily with a hum as Charles' lips press against your cheek slowly, "Good morning ma belle, how did you sleep hmm?" With a giggle you roll over to look at him properly, "You know I always sleep better when you're home, handsome." You poke his nose gently and it scrunches up before he's pulling you into his arms, hating that you're not as close as possible to him, "Well then ma belle, let's sleep a little longer..."

cs.55 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔ Princesa (princess) It's classic and sweet without being too cringy! Carlos originally started calling you princesa as a joke but found that he actually quite liked it. You're his princess and so giving you that title only made sense! Carlos swears his heart melts when you pout up at him and he realises all over again he's more than happy to keep calling you his princess.

"Carlooooos!" You whined, "My feet hurt..." You pouted as you squatted down on the pavement, unable to take another step. "Princesa..." Carlos sighed, "I told you those shoes would hurt your feet." You stared up at him, bottom lip jutting out, "I can't walk anymore..." Carlos chuckled and rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip gently, "Here, princesa," He guided you up and over to a nearby bench before kneeling in front of you. You sighed as his warm hands eased your shoes off of your feet, "Better?" You nodded, "I'm going to get the car, it's just around the corner okay?" You smiled at him, "Thank you." "Of course princesa... And when we get home I'll run you a bath and give you a foot rub, okay?"

ln.4 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔ Sunshine Cute and different. Lando has many names for you that all depend on both of your moods and the situation; jellybean, pretty girl, babe, mamas, peach, but sunshine is his favourite. He tells you it's because you're his little piece of Monaco sunshine when he's far away from home and missing you. He draws his inspiration from lazy mornings spent with you in the bed of your shared Monaco apartment, the sun dappling soft patterns on your skin as his lips chase the sunlight.

"Hi sunshine..." You giggle as Lando's scruff tickles your bare shoulder, relishing in the way his lips trace a line of soft kisses across your back as the sunlight pours in through the floaty net curtains. You roll over and loop your arms around his neck, "Good morning gorgeous..." You nuzzle your nose into his and he presses a kiss to your cheek, humming happily as the sun warms the room. "What are your plans for the day?" He asks, desperately hoping that they revolve around him, you contemplate for a moment before rolling over on top of him, "Nothing at all!" Lando finds himself breathless as he gazes at you, the morning light highlighting the colour of your eyes, the glow of your skin and making your lips look so damn kissable. He knows that when he's far away from home, this is what he'll remember. His own slice of heaven and his very own sunshine.

op.81 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔ Angel sweet and gives you butterflies! Is very nice to hear in all sorts of settings and moods... The first time he saw you, Oscar thought you looked like an angel and though it took him a while to pluck up the courage to call you angel for the first time, it's now the name he always uses for you! Even when you're not around he still refers to you as his angel (much to Lando's annoyance because he thinks you two are icky sometimes).

"Hey angel!" You gave a watery smile at your boyfriend through the call, hating that he was so far away, "have you been crying?" You nodded slowly, knowing how guilty Oscar felt leaving you behind. "I'm sorry angel... Hey," he said lowly, "I left one of my hoodies in your wardrobe, why don't you go grab it?" Following his instructions you grabbed the hoodie and cuddled into bed, holding it up to your nose and desperately trying to imagine he was there with you, "You look so cute angel..." You giggled, "Even when I'm all teary and snotty and sad?" "Especially then!" He beamed back at you, "Who you talking to Oscah?" You heard his teammate's voice drift through the phone, "Just talking to my angel." Oscar cooed, earning a groan from Lando that had you and Oscar bursting into giggles, "You're not even here in the same room and you're still being mushy!"

ls.2 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔ Baby Simple and understated Logan likes to keep things simple but sweet and so baby is his go-to name for you. He's worked out that it suits a variety of situations and moods whether you're feeling happy, down, excited, angry or... needy. 'Baby' is usually followed up with a quick smooch to the cheek or forehead.

"Babyyyy?" Logan dragged out the last syllable, sitting next to you on the couch, "Babe? You can't stay mad at me forever!" He whined, flopping down onto the pillows. "My last brownie Logan. The last one." You hmmphed, crossing your arms for emphasis, "Baby I'm sorry! I didn't realise it was the last one..." You looked at Logan who now sat up next to you looking very dejected. You sighed, "It's okay," "Thank you so much baby," he kissed your cheek, "I will never eat your brownies again no matter how many are there." You giggled as he gave a mock salute, "Now, go put your shoes on baby, we're going to go and get more brownies!"

gr.63 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔ My love Classic and to the point! It’s sweet without feeling like too much. With or without the ‘my’ it still feels intimate.George knew not long after you’d started dating there would never be any other name for you. He loves saying it even when you’re out and around other people, it’s not too much that it’s cringy or awkward but it lets people know just how important you are to him. Sometimes he’ll drop the ‘my’ and just call you love, but even that is enough to have your cheeks heating up and to make you bite your bottom lip through a smile.

“My love?” You heard George call out as the door to your shared apartment opened, “In the kitchen!” You called back, hurrying around to make sure everything was ready for dinner. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” You whirled around to see George standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. You smiled fondly at him as he approached you, pulling you into his arms and settling his hands on your waist, “You look beautiful my love, is this the dress you bought with Lily the other day?” You nodded, looping your arms around his neck and leaning up to peck his lips, “It is, speaking of, is she here?” George nodded, “Yeah, they’re in the dining room.” You squealed with excitement and untangled yourself from George to run to Lily, after the squealing and hugging had died down, George poked his head out of the kitchen, “Do you want me to bring the plates in here love?” Alex laughed shaking is head at George, “You’re so whipped for her.” George nodded, not even phased at Alex’s teasing, “She’s my love, of course I am.”

lh.44 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔ Darling Iconic and timeless, this name has stood the test of time. Darling sounds so good falling off of his lips. Whether it’s tinged with that slight American accent from time to time or sounds completely British, Lewis loves the way your hand always searches for his or your head drops to his shoulder once he’s said it. Lewis isn’t one for big PDA but he will always use this name, especially if he wants to check in with you mid-event or at a large gathering. Using this name is just one of the many ways he takes care of you.

“Darling,” You stopped mid-conversation with Toto and Susie as Lewis suddenly appeared behind you, his hand sliding down your arm before linking his fingers with yours and subtly pulling you to stand a little closer to him “are you feeling okay?” He knew you hated these big events, especially when he couldn’t stay by your side the whole time. You turned to look at him a sweet smile breaking across your face as you squeezed his hand, “I’m okay, I promise” He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your head before noticing your glass was empty, “I’ll be right back darling,” He plucked your glass out of your hand and made his way to the bar, you staring after him lovingly, “The two of you are so sweet.” Your head snapped back to Susie who stood there watching you with a fond expression, you giggled, “He takes good care of me,” “You’re good for him too.” Toto acknowledged with a nod, “Here you are darling,” A hand appeared in front of you with a fresh drink, followed by Lewis. Taking the glass from him you pecked his cheek and linked your hand with his, “Thank you love.”

871 notes · View notes

have-you-seen-my-sanity · 3 months ago

Note

Hi, can I have a request? 😇

I just loved your Steven x virgin reader fic, but what if they are both virgins and Marc talks through Steven where to kiss and how to touch 😏

HI! :D

Of course you can, feel free😊

Oooh, sounds like a beautiful idea😏

The guiding voice

Virgin!Steven Grant x virgin!fem!reader

I'm sorry in advance if there are some butchered words, mistakes or other spelling errors, English isn't my native language.

Warnings/Triggers: Loss of virginity, mention of blood, p in v, fingering, Marc being Marc.

Summary: Marc guides Steven through the process of his and your first time.

"Steven, all you have to do is to listen to me."

Steven looked up, seeing Marc's reflection in the mirror. Steven was nervous the whole time and Marc tried to calm him down. When Steven told you he was still a virgin, he got red like a Tomato, too embarrassed for his own good. But when he heard you were one too and saw you getting flashy red he cooled down.

"But I'm afraid I'll hurt her..." Steven chewed on the inside of his lip.

"You're not going to hurt her. Trust me buddy." Marc shot Steven a charming smile "Oh and I mean, you've jerked off before, you know how that feels, but with a woman it feels better, everything's better."

Steven raised his eyebrows at Marc "Lucky you, it must be easy for you sayin' all that, innit."

"Want me to do it?" Marc's words came out dry but he couldn't hide the sound of his amusement.

Steven looked back up at Marc, "What the actual f- you can't be for real now, mate..."

Marc just shrugged like he said the most harmless thing in the world, "Uhh, just saying. Worst case..."

Steven stepped back, checking himself out in the mirror before glancing back at the clock. Steven and you had been dating for quite a while now, he hasn't told you about his mental condition with Marc living rent free in his head, thinking it might scare you off, he planned to tell you about it when you two got something serious though. Steven expected you to knock at his door any minute, you two agreed to take it a step further tonight.

Steven didn't notice Marc admiring him in the reflection, too anxious about the time.

Marc whistled seductively at Steven, "Ouuh, look at that fine Brit. Mr. Grant about to get into business with a girl. Go get her buddy."

Just after Marc said that, there was a knock on the door. Steven turned back to him, "Bloody American." who in return leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and just grinned cheekily at Steven as he went to the door. He opened the door, seeing indeed you standing there with a smile.

"Hi Steven."

Steven beamed, his heart racing wildly in his chest "Wow, you look amazing!" he greeted you excitedly seeing how you blushed instantly.

"Look at this fine gentleman infront of me." You grinned as Steven stepped back to invite you in.

Later that night, you and Steven went into bed together for the next step. Steven was above you, gently kissing you until he heard Marc's voice again

"Quite the catch you got there. Can you feel yourself getting hard? I know I would."

If there was one thing Steven hated about the whole head sharing thing, it was the fact that he couldn't talk back mentally to tell Marc he isn't that inexperienced.

"First, you need to get her all needy. Kiss her neck and work yourself up to kiss the spot behind her ear. Gets the girls purring like a cat."

Steven almost cracked up into a smile at the last part, but he trusted Marc, moving to kiss your neck softly and working his mouth upwards to press a kiss on the sensitive spot behind your ear, which draw a soft moan out of you. Steven smiled internally, pleased with himself knowing he did something good.

"Just like that, and now move one hand slowly down between her legs, start teasing her."

Steven complied, his hand skimmed softly over your skin while wandering down until it was just above the waistline of your panties. Steven continued to kiss you, he loved hearing your noises escape your lips. You don't know how happy it makes him. He dipped the tip of his fingers under the waistband, inching closer to your warm core.

"That's right buddy, keep going, you're doing good." Steven could hear how pleased Marc is with him.

His hand now dipped into your panties, reaching your clit and started to rub it in slow circular motion. You let out a needy moan, getting wetter with every circle he drew and arched into him.

"Oho, you're more experienced?" You asked suddenly, giggling.

Steven pulled back just enough to look at you "Maybe it's natural?" He teased you, feeling more bold now deciding to do the kiss behind your ear again which surprised you, given how good he already makes you feel at rubbing your clit.

"Steven..." You began moaning softly.

Steven rubbed your clit a tad bit faster, he felt the wetness of your juices starting to get on his fingers, which is a very good sign for him.

"Ask her if she's feeling comfy enough to take one of your fingers. One, not all of them." came Marc's voice again.

In response, Steven guided his fingers closer to your wet hole "Are you alright to take one finger?" Steven asked gently with a tiny note of concern for your well being in his voice.

Once you nodded, Steven's index finger pressed gently on your entrance before entering softly.

As you felt his finger stretching you, you let out a short gasp at the intrusion, but it was easier to handle thanks to the fact your entrance was wet, thus making it less uncomfortable.

"You alright love?" Steven asked concerned.

"Yes." You nodded reassuringly.

Steven pumped his finger slowly, making sure it gets coated in your juices.

"Alright buddy, and now add a second finger but do it slow, make sure she's wet enough, rub her clit again if you have to." Was Marc's advice.

"May I add another finger? To get you more prepared, y'know." Steven looked down at you with a soft gaze.

Once you nodded, he moved his thumb to rub your clit again to get the wetness pooling before he prepped his middle finger at your entrance, coating the tip with your juices and slowly joined his index finger, stretching your hole. Given the thickness of two of his fingers stretching you, you felt a slight uncomfortable sting but it got better when Steven started moving his fingers slowly inside of you. When Steven felt you getting more comfortable he slightly sped up his fingers and kissed you again to make it easier for you to forget the stretch.

"Grind yourself against her, use your thigh between her legs to move against her if you have to in order to get more possible friction to make her feel good while making her feel how hard your cock is against her leg." Marc's voice was focused, he genuinely wanted to make it as easy as it gets for you.

"Does it hurt love?" Steven asked, grinding himself against you like Marc said, making sure to brush his one thigh against you as much as possible.

"No, it's bearable." You replied, letting out soft moans as the wetness made you feel get a good feeling from Steven's fingers and his rubbing on your clit. At the feeling of Steven's hard erection rubbing on you, you felt yourself getting more wet if it was even possible and lifted your knee up, getting a heavier pressure on Steven's erection which made him moan at the surprise.

"Gettin' a bit eager are we, love." Steven teased, leaning in to kiss your neck again and biting down gently, causing you to tighten around his fingers. Steven felt it, and when you got comfortable again he felt how you've got used to something bigger inserted into you.

"You think she's ready for you, bud?" Steven heard Marc's voice again.

"Love, you think you're ready for me?" Steven asked you, slowing down his fingers.

"Yes, I think I am." You nodded, spreading your legs wider for him to get better access as Steven slowly pulled his fingers out of you, making sure to not hurt you.

Before Steven could get his aching cock out, he heard Marc chime in again "You okay with blood, right?"

Steven paused, looking back to his little bathroom mirror to look at Marc, giving him a curt nod.

He saw Marc nodding in response before turning his attention back to you and pulling his cock out. Obviously his dick is bigger than his fingers, so when he caught you looking, he gently reassured you "Don't worry love, I'll be slow for you, gonna be as patient as you need me too."

"Thanks, Steven." You smiled softly, knowing you're in good hands.

"She likes what she sees, otherwise she didn't stare at it like that." Marc was teasing, he could hear the literal grin in his voice and Steven knew he couldn't just talk back at him in order to not scare you.

Steven slowly pulled off your panties and positioned himself between your legs but before he could get any further he heard Marc again

"Please do me a favor and don't miss it, just point it at the wet leaking hole."

Steven wished he could whack Marc mentally sometimes. He continued moving his cock to your entrance and gently nudged it with the tip.

"Alright buddy, now enter her slowly, if she makes an uncomfortable noise stop for a second, maybe ask if she's alright and then continue."

Steven obeyed, he pushed inside slowly, inch by inch. He couldn't help but moan at the tightness of you around him, loving how it felt.

"At one point she will hiss or something and you'll feel and see blood, 'cause congratulations you broke her Hymen. It'll bleed for a while before it stops, so don't panic."

Steven's girth stretched you, more than his fingers and you felt a stingy stretch slowly creeping up, making you tense a bit and gasp.

"Get her more wet. Rub her clit again, it will make it easier." Marc chimed in again.

"It's okay love, it's okay, 'm here." Steven cooed softly, proceeding to rub your clit again.

His cock stretched you further the more he pushed in, the sting was more prominent now but it was bearable with the wetness from Steven rubbing your clit.

When Steven pushed further and more of his thickness inside you felt a sharp sting, feeling like something has ripped inside you, and a second liquidy feeling getting mixed in, feeling thicker and warmer, it caused you to tense and let out a soft yelp, your eyes were watering up a bit at the pain.

Steven immediately stopped his movements, looking down to see some blood coating his cock, "It's okay love, you know what this means, right? It can't get any worse now." He smiled softly, leaning down to kiss you and wiping away some tears that had escaped your eyes "I'm proud of you, you were so brave."

He saw you smiling back at him, then asked "Want me to wash the blood off, love?"

"No, the blood is alright, we will clean up later anyways." You smiled.

Steven nodded, starting to move again. The stingy feeling was still there, but your wetness soothed it, allowing you to relax.

"There you go buddy, you popped her cherry. Made her a real woman now." It was Marc again. Oh how badly Steven wished he could talk back to him, sometimes Marc acted like an asshole, and when he did, the little American inside his head really started to get going at it.

Soon, as Steven continued to move you felt the sting getting replaced by a more pleasurable feeling, one that made your brain go numb.

"Steven..." You moaned, arching your hips up at him.

"Starting to feel good, yeah?" Steven teased, increasing his speed "God, you feel incredible love. So good."

You could feel something inside building up, the faster Steven moved, the faster it approached you, "Steven, I-I think I'm close." You moaned, breathing heavily at your impending release.

"Gettin' close too, love." Steven grunted, his pace increasing even more as he was now pounding into you, loving the tight sensation of your hole around his cock.

Before you knew it, the sensation became too much and you felt yourself tightening around Steven, gushing all over his cock while your eyes rolled back into your skull. Steven lost it the moment he felt you squeezing his cock, his orgasm was inevitable and he allowed himself to shoot his sticky load into you. He held himself inside you for a couple seconds before he pulled out, letting the fluid mess between your legs drop onto the towel under you.

"That was so intense." Your chest was heaving.

Steven rolled off onto the side, facing you "It was unbelievable. You did so perfect, love." He leaned in and kissed your forehead.

Both of you laid there, calming down from the lovemaking before you broke the silence "Shouldn't we clean ourselves up?" You giggled.

Steven snapped back to reality, his mind was still clouded with the experience they shared "Yeah, right." He chuckled, standing up and extending his hand for you to pull you up before grabbing the towel, and heading to the bathroom to clean up.

After the cleanup, you changed into your sleeping clothes, heading straight for the bed and occupying it before wrapping yourself up in the soft covers. When Steven returned he saw you already sleeping with a soft smile on your face. He placed a soft kiss on top of your head, looking back at the mirror to confront Marc, who gave him a dirty smile in return.

"I'm already scared on what you're about to say, Marc. Judging from your smile." Steven said.

"Did it feel good?" Marc couldn't resist but ask.

"Bloody hell..." Steven sighed, it sounded like the sigh someone would make as if they'd question their own existence "You're a freakin' pig, mate."

"I am just curious." Marc defended himself "Will you introduce me to her?"

Steven cracked into a smile "Of course. I'll introduce the little American man living rent free in my head."

Marc beamed, happy with the answer "Thanks!" He replied, visible excited.

Steven looked back at your sleeping from, walking around the bed to the other side to lay down beside you. "She took all the covers."

"Happy wife, happy life. Don't you dare wake her up." Came Marc's response.

Steven almost choked, "Hap- what?!"

"It's as simple as that, buddy." Marc just grinned at Steven.

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #steven grant x reader #oscar isaac

242 notes · View notes

murdockparker · 8 months ago

Text

Roses and Regrets - Part 1

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Freshly out of mourning, Lady Barlow, née (Y/L/N), makes her re-debut in society. If only she could simply ignore a certain viscount...

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none. enemies to lovers!!

A/N: I didn't expect this lil requested fic to turn into such an event, let alone a multi-part story! so, you're welcome or I'm sorry?

next part

She was perfectly happy.

Well, supposedly right now she wasn’t.

Her husband, Lord Barlow, had passed away ten months ago, leaving her with an empty estate, a shiny title and more money than she knew what to do with. Lord Barlow was an old viscount, desperate for an heir and willing to do anything to get one.

In came Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

Young, beautiful and well-bred, she was the perfect choice for any man of the ton. If only her father hadn’t a penchant for gambling. Perhaps she’d be married to a man more suited for her rather than the oaf of a dustbin she was forced to be with. She was no fool in believing in a love match for herself, rare and far between as they were, no, but she did have half a mind to imagine a kinder man as her husband. A man who perhaps cared even a little bit for her wellbeing.

No matter.

A dead man cannot care for her wellbeing either.

“Lady Barlow,” a maid knocked, entering the ornate drawing room.

“Yes?” (Y/N) did not look up from her reading—the newest edition of Whistledown had just been delivered. While she herself was never one to gossip terribly, it was quite fun to keep up with the circus of the season.

“Do you plan on attending the Danbury ball this eve?”

“I do not see the point,” she scoffed playfully, “after all, Meg, I am but a widow in mourning.”

“Perhaps her ladyship should reconsider?” Meg asked gently, placing a new pot of tea next to her lady. “I rather think it has been a socially acceptable amount of time since your husband’s passing.”

“If I am not to enjoy the perks of being a widow,” (Y/N) sighed, finally looking up at her favorite lady’s maid, “whatever is the point?”

“Perks that Viscount Barlow has graciously allowed you to use during your time of mourning—”

“The current viscount is all but twelve,” (Y/N) reminded. “He has no use for this estate in Mayfair until he himself becomes an adult, in which, I am sure he and his mother will come to make use of it. I believe if my maths are correct, that leaves me all of six years or so to use this home.”

“Forgive me my lady, but should you not be looking for a new husband, then?”

(Y/N) smiled at Meg. She enjoyed their friendship, her maid being only a handful of years older than herself, it made for a likely pair. “No one wishes to marry a widow,” she said simply, “widows are damaged goods. Every sensible man of the ton will be wanting a pretty little virgin instead.”

“My lady!”

“What?” She barked a laugh. “You know it to be true.”

“Regardless,” Meg said, clearing her throat. “Lord Barlow passed nearly a year ago, the period of mourning is rightfully over. You are expected to rejoin society.”

“Dreadful.”

“It is expected,” Meg repeated.

“It does not make it any less dreadful,” (Y/N) said. “Very well. Pull a dress and prepare a bath, it seems the ton gets to see my dreary face once again.”

—

Anthony Bridgerton was a man scorned.

Particularly by his own mother in this very instance. How foolish he had been to share his intentions of marriage this season with her—for now she spread the news like a wildfire. Every desperate mama and her equally desperate daughter came flocking to him like bees to honey.

It was only now, in the dark corner of the ballroom, that he found a respite.

“Looking a bit green, Lord Bridgerton,” a voice beside him called out.

“I am not—” Anthony had huffed a reply before even knowing whom he was speaking to. “Lady Barlow.”

“I am shocked you can recall my name,” (Y/N) laughed over her champagne flute. “Considering how many new ones you’ve had thrown at you this eve.”

“You are out of mourning.”

“Is that a question?”

“It was an observation,” Anthony corrected.

“What gave it away? My bright dress? No tear stains left on my cheeks?”

“You are here, out and about,” Anthony said. “And, forgive me for not playing along with your delusions, but I do not think you cried much at all for Lord Barlow’s passing.”

“How dare you assume such a thing,” (Y/N) faux gasped. She had intended on pressing a hand to her chest. Intended, anyway. Somehow she forgot all about the champagne currently residing it her grasp. “Damn… this was a new dress too.”

“Good God,” he laughed. “First you are spilling all over yourself like a child and now you are cursing—tell me, do all married ladies act like you?”

“I am a widow,” (Y/N) had found a cloth and begun dabbing up the spill. It had only dribbled at most, but still, it was a new dress. “I rather think I can act the way I please.”

“Like a drunkard?”

“Like a free woman,” she said, fighting every childish urge to stick her tongue out at the viscount. “I am only here to show my face, prove I am still alive and I shall go about my merry way.”

“Lady Danbury is a widow,” Anthony noted. “Yet she still mingles with society.”

“I am not Lady Danbury.”

“You are not.”

“Do you not have young misses to go and woo?” (Y/N)’s eyes hardened. “Take your pick from the litter, Lord Bridgerton, any of them would be pleased to spend such valuable time with you.”

“Are you insinuating you are not?”

“I rather thought it was a statement, yes,” (Y/N) said.

Anthony’s eyes went only a fraction wider, nostrils flaring. “Well, if that is what you wish—”

“It is not a mean of wishing,” she laughed, “but really a necessity.”

“Good evening, Lady Barlow,” Anthony sneered, smoke practically coming out of his ears. If (Y/N) had half a mind she’d call for the authorities to put that fire out, instead, she simply finished her drink and smiled wistfully at the dancing ballroom, feeling fulfilled.

—

Dearest Gentle Reader,

The season is in full swing thanks to the mark of Lady Agatha Danbury’s ball, a notable and traditional first event of the London scene. Eligible young ladies now on the Marriage Mart were enjoying their first taste at what fine society has to offer, however taxing or daunting it may be.

Our resident Capital ‘R’ Rake, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton is finally deciding on a wife, surely making him the finest catch of the season. Matchmaking mamas and their young ladies alike were seen flocking to him like petulant children asking their parents for pin money, thanks to his own mother, Lady Bridgerton’s declaration of such an idea last night. The viscount seemingly had enough of the attention, taking like a wallflower and hiding away in the back of the ballroom near the end of the evening.

His company? None other than Lady Barlow, evidently out of mourning as of last night. While the this Author is under good authority that the match between Lady Barlow and the late Lord Barlow was not a love match, given their fourty or fifty year age difference, it has taken the new dowager viscountess longer than most anticipated for her to get back into the season. A woman as young as Lady Barlow would be eager to find another husband to support her, but something tells me that she is quite enjoying her time as a widow and will not easily give that up.

While this Author has very little idea of the actual nature of the relationship between Lord Bridgerton and Lady Barlow, it is only to be assumed that it is simply not a favorable one. The two were seen making a scene by the refreshment table, a scene that went unnoticed by many prying eyes of the ton, leaving Lord Bridgerton storming away and Lady Barlow with the winning hand.

Good show, Lady Barlow.

Lady Whistledown Society Papers

—

“Brother! You are in Whistledown!” Eloise sang to no one in particular.

“I have no care that I am in that gossip rag,” Anthony ground out, rustling his newspaper. “I can only imagine it is just another advertisement of my search for a wife this season.”

“Er, yes, however—”

“However?” Anthony’s attention immediately shot up to his sister, newspaper be damned.

“Who is Lady Barlow?” Eloise asked.

“No one of importance,” Anthony could feel his temperature rising.

“Lady Barlow?” Benedict laughed. “Is that who you were talking to last night dear Brother? Is she not still in mourning?”

“No.”

“No it is not who you were talking to, or no she is not still in mourning?” Benedict gave his brother an amusing glance.

“Oh, according to Whistledown—”

“Sister—”

“Eloise, you may not recall Lady Barlow, given you only just came out this season,” Benedict began, deciding that this conversation was very much worth his time this morning. “But she used to go by Miss (Y/L/N) before her marriage to the late viscount.”

“(Y/L/N)…” Eloise looked to the ceiling, finding nothing in particular. “Oh! Is she not the woman who—”

“I am taking my leave,” Anthony said abruptly, newspaper all but forgotten.

“Escaping, Brother?” Benedict asked.

“I have calls to make,” Anthony sneered, ignoring the pleased face his brother was making. “Excuse me.”

“It seems Lady Barlow is a touchy subject,” Eloise noted as her eldest brother left the drawing room. Benedict snorted. “What?”

“You do not even know the half of it, dear Sister.”

Anthony Bridgerton, did not in fact, have any calls to make. He had no impressionable interactions last night to warrant such a visit to anyone—the Queen was still in need of naming her diamond, after all—but he had no desire to stay and be berated by his family this morning. He truly had no plan, no thought in his head on where he was going, he just simply was.

Apparently he was going to the park.

It was still early in the day, few people graced the park at such an hour. The few who did, however, were too busy reading the latest Whistledown to even notice him. Anthony saw a handful of post boys running opposite of his direction on his way here, it was only natural they scoped out this location. He knew it was going to be a problem the minute they finished reading—if Lady Whistledown truly wrote about him, which he had no reason to believe his sister was lying about, all eyes would be on him.

“Might as well enjoy the peace and quiet for now,” Anthony exhaled. He took a quick glance at his watch—half past eight. Hardly could he recall a time he took a turn about the park on his own, usually he was in the company of his family or holed away in his study worrying about expenses and the like, never did he take a moment to actually enjoy the grand weather such as the kind today. Determined to enjoy it, he sat down on a favorable bench and watched the birds swim across the pond.

“Unbelievable.”

He turned his head, only to find Lady Barlow dressed in a rather pleasantly pink dress and matching hat, a look of distaste on her face.

“I didn’t take you as the park-going type, Lord Bridgerton,” she nodded, folding her hands. She had been carrying a small red book in one of them. “Especially at such an early hour, too.”

“Lady Barlow,” he nearly sneered. “Can a man not enjoy the park?”

“Oh surely a man can,” (Y/N) agreed. “But you? You are no man.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It seems to me that you’re sitting in my spot,” she ignored his quip, readjusting her stance in annoyance. “This is where I come to read.”

“Can you not read elsewhere?” Anthony asked. “There is an entire park at your disposal.”

“No,” she hummed. “Afraid not.”

“No?” He laughed. “Surely out of the entire park you can find a suitable spot to read your—let me guess—romantically inclined fodder?”

“Poetry,” she corrected, “and no, I cannot simply read elsewhere. The shade is just right under this tree and I rather like overlooking the pond between my chapters.”

“Shame I got here first, then,” Anthony clicked.

“You…!” (Y/N) scoffed, fighting every urge in her body to stomp her foot. “You are an impossible man, surely you know that?”

“I thought you said I was no man?” Anthony’s brow quirked. “Or perhaps I misheard?”

She scowled. “You are not amusing.”

“On the contrary,” Anthony leaned back on the bench, stretching his arms and taking his claim. “I find myself very amusing.”

A duck quacked from the pond, either laughing at the viscount or agreeing with him—it was hard to tell.

“You leave me no choice,” (Y/N) said sternly, taking a seat on the other end of the bench—feeling worlds apart from the man on the far side. In actuality, it couldn’t have been more than two feet, three at most.

“Truly?” Anthony laughed humorlessly. “You cannot be serious.”

“Hush,” (Y/N) said, opening her book in earnest. “I am trying to read.”

While there had been no guns drawn, this was a duel, in every sense of the word. Both parties sitting still as statues, Anthony’s gaze trained on the pond, (Y/N)’s on her book. Occasionally, she’d flip her page to the next, huffing every time Anthony still did not get up and move on.

Stubborn. Both of them.

“Will you be quiet?” Anthony said, growing exasperated. “I cannot think when you are breathing so loud—”

“You wish for me not to breathe?” She shut her book. “I never anticipated you’d wish me dead—”

“Please,” Anthony said. “You know that is not what I mean at all.”

“I never know with you. You, Anthony Bridgerton, are an enigma and I hope I never have the pleasure of truly understanding you,” (Y/N) said, fingers whiting from her grip on her book.

“So you admit it would be pleasurable?”

She wanted to wipe that grin off of his face, how, she was unsure. Idly, she thought about how a good smack to his cheek would feel. Painful in the moment but oh-so wonderful after, cathartic, probably. “I am not getting up.”

“Neither am I.”

“I am willing to die on this bench,” (Y/N) spat.

“Funnily enough,” Anthony’s voice dropped, “so am I.”

“How are you to find your viscountess on this bench?” She asked, angling her body towards the torturous man. “Surely you do not expect her to just walk past?”

“I am sure I can manage,” Anthony said calmly. “Many young ladies will walk this way when they see me sitting here."

“Even with another woman sitting beside you?”

“I rather think they’ll find you easy to ignore, I know I do.”

“Ha! You are truly something else, Lord Bridgerton,” (Y/N) sat straighter. “Insulting a polite woman in public?”

“You are the furthest thing from polite,” Anthony leaned in. “Rude, ostentatious, quite full of herself—”

“Might I offer you a mirror?” The grip on her book tightened, cover bending from the force. “Or are you afraid you’ll see horns?”

“Oh, do they match yours?” He nearly sang.

“Funny,” she clicked, finally setting her book down, lacing her fingers together in her lap. “You should run a comedy act at the circus, seeing as you are a right clown.”

Anthony stood up, whether by the force of his breath or sheer spite he will never know. “You are the most ridiculous woman I have ever met.”

(Y/N) met his height, now standing as well. “And you are the most irritating man I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.”

“I am going to walk this way,” Anthony said, forcefully pointing to his right, eyes not leaving hers. She did have the most remarkable eyes.

“And I will walk this way,” she pointed to her left, less force in her action but seething all the same. “Have the day you deserve, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Why you little…!”

She had already turned and stomped away, a fuming smudge of pink against the greenery of the park, growing further away with every step.

“What a wretched woman,” he mumbled, looking down at his watch again—nine on-the-dot. In the corner of his eye, something bright red caught his attention. Her book. She had left it behind.

Perhaps he would burn it.

Perhaps he would just put it in his pocket and carry about his day.

In the pocket it went. For now.

#anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #enemies to lovers #multi-part fic #reader insert #whoops i didn't expect this request to turn into a multiple part thing but here we are #unsure of how many parts but probably no more than 4-5?#idk

659 notes · View notes

littlest-w01f · 15 days ago

Text

Session

"Role play" with:

Zayne x Reader

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Summary: Your appiontment with your doctor

Cw: Roleplaying, aphrodisiacs, FxM, Smut 18+ MDNI

With a warm smile, you entered the examination room, well, your husband's home office, your heart pounding slightly at the thought of seeing your doctor again. You were dressed casually today, a simple pair of jeans hugging your hips and a loose blouse revealing just enough cleavage to keep things interesting.

Dr Zayne, your trusted doctor, greeted you with his usual smile, his eyes scanning over your outfit appreciatively. He was dressed in his usual professional attire. "Good morning, y/n," He said, his voice soothing. "How are we feeling today?" He led you to the examination table, his hand gently guiding yours as if he wanted to reassure you about the procedure ahead.

As he spoke, his gaze drifted down to your cleavage for just a moment before quickly snapping back up to meet your eyes. They had an unmistakable glint of desire, but it was gone so fast you almost wondered if you had imagined it.

"Good morning, Dr Zayne," You smiled, letting him guide you, "I'm pretty good about today."

Zayne bit his lips slightly, this little play had been your idea and he was more than happy to let you explore more, despite the fact that he was a cardiac surgeon and not a generic "doctor" who felt up his patients, but seeing you in your tight jeans and that damn top that hid nothing, it was something he found appealing in this. How exposed and vulnerable he could have you in his private office had his heart racing, the aphrodisiac chocolate he had split with you before now pumping blood faster in his body.

"I think we should start with a thorough internal exam, just to ensure everything is... In working order," Dr Zayne said, his voice low and husky, only slightly awkward still but he masked it well. "Please strip from the waist down and get on the table"

Turning around, you bent over slightly as you slid them down your thighs, giving him an eyeful of your round ass barely contained by a lace thong, then came the little thong, after that, you climbed onto the cold metal table, opening your legs for him, heat burning in your entire body.

Dr Zayne took a moment to compose himself as he watched you disrobe, trying not to stare too obviously at your gorgeous curves. Once you were positioned on the table, he stepped between your parted thighs, his hands coming to rest on your knees.

"Just relax, y/n dear," He murmured, slowly sliding his hands upward along your inner thighs. His touch was electric against your bare skin, sending shivers through you. "This shouldn't hurt... Much."

As he spoke, his fingers continued their journey upwards, ghosting tantalizingly close to your sensitive folds before finally making contact. The sensation of his fingertips brushing against your heated flesh sent jolts of pleasure coursing through you.

His touch was feather-light, teasing and tormenting you as he traced circles around your clit. Your breath hitched in your throat, a soft moan escaping your lips as he continued to toy with you.

"Should... Should you even be doing that?" You gasped as he pressed his gloved finger against your clit.

Dr Zayne gave a soft chuckle, his voice a low rumble as he leaned closer, his hot breath fanning across your ear, making shivers go down your spine, the aphrodisiac making you crazy. "I think I know what's best for my patient," He whispered, his finger pressing harder against your clit.

He began to circle your sensitive nub in slow, deliberate strokes, each movement designed to draw out your pleasure. "You're quite responsive, aren't you?" He commented, watching your body squirm under his touch.

Your eyes caught the ring on his free hand, set perfectly on his ring finger, Dr Zayne noticed your gaze flickering to his wedding band and he sighed softly. "Ah yes, the ring…" He said quietly, his movements slowing for a moment. Stoking the flames of your arousal higher. "Forget that, y/n. Just focus on how good this feels," he coaxed, hand going lower, probing at your entrance.

"Does your wife know you use your job to touch paitents inappropriately?" You blushed at how bold his touches got, eyes straying from his wedding ring, the other half of it laird on your finger, silver hand, a cute diamond encrusted in it. Today was the first time you had removed it just to play pretend.

A wicked grin spread across Dr Zayne's face at your bold question. "My wife has no idea about this..." His finger slipped inside your slick heat without warning, voice cold. "And she never needs to know. This is our secret, y/n."

He pumped his finger slowly, savouring the way your walls clenched around him, drooling from arousal. "You are such a naughty girl, getting so wet for your married doctor," He hummed approvingly. "Tell me do you have a partner?" He lifted your chin up with his free hand to make you look up at him.

Your cheeks heated harder, "I... I have a husband." You stuck your bottom lip out a little, looking deep into his eyes, trying to provoke him with your words, "But he can never pleasure me properly."

A low growl rumbled in Dr Zayne's chest as he gazed into your pleading eyes, your innocent act only fueling his lust. He curled his finger inside you, rubbing that spot that made your toes curl, the one he knew too well.

"You poor thing," He tutted, leaning in close, his breath hot against your ear. "It seems like you've been missing out on so much pleasure. But don't worry, I'll make sure to give you exactly what you need." Leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue explored your mouth, tasting every corner while his finger continued its relentless pace, stroking your inner walls.

Breaking the kiss, he pulled away just far enough to whisper against your lips. "Let me show you how a real man pleasures a woman," he breathed, his thumb circling your clit in tandem with his thrusting fingers. "Because lucky for you, I know exactly how to worship a beautiful woman like yourself."

His thumb rubbed firm circles around your clit as he curled his fingers inside you, hitting that special spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids. All the while, his other hand undoing his trousers to free his rock hard cock.

His admission only spurred you on, your mind swirling with thoughts of this forbidden liaison. You whimpered as he finger fucked you mercilessly, desperate for more. You screwed your eyes shut as you felt your orgasm approaching.

As he watched you climax, his eyes filled with lust and something akin to admiration. The sight of your cunt clenching around his fingers was too much for him to resist anymore. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom.

You almost broke character and smiled, you hadn't used protection with him in so long, even if you weren't really trying, so you simply took to foil packet and threw it in the corner of his private room

Seeing you throw the condom aside made Dr Zayne pause, he looked at you with a raised eyebrow, and pushed you back onto the table, spreading your legs wide apart, "If you didn't want to use protection you could've just said." The cool metal surface contrasted sharply with the scorching heat emanating from your core. Aligning his cock with your entrance. With a powerful thrust, he buried himself fully inside you, groaning at the sensation of your impossibly tight warmth enveloping him.

His hands gripped your hips tightly as he pushed into you, stretching you to accommodate his girth. His cock slid effortlessly inside you, filling you completely. "Such a naughty wife, cheating on her husband with her married doctor," He leaned down to nip at your earlobe.

You moaned and whimpered as he leaned in, nuzzling the side of your neck. "So fucking tight," he groaned, thrusting his hips hard against yours. "You feel amazing."

"Please... Please Za-" He pistoned his hips relentlessly, each powerful thrust driving his thick shaft deep into your soaked channel. His pelvis grinding deliciously against your clit as he rutted into you like a wild animal. The obscene sounds of wet flesh slapping against flesh echoed through the small examination room. Combined with your ragged moans and his grunts of exertion.

"God you're perfect," He panted as he gazed down at where you were joined together, transfixed by the erotic sight of your bodies entwined.

His cock throbbed and pulsed inside you as he approached the precipice of ecstasy. His grip on your hips tightened painfully, nails digging into you as he chased his release. His every word served to stoke the fire burning within you. You felt every inch of his throbbing cock fill you up, each thrust pushing deeper until you were completely full.

Dr Zayne grabbed your thigh and hoisted it high, changing the angle of your position on the table. His thrusts became more powerful, driving into you with an intensity that bordered on punishing, you knew your comments about your husband couldn't provide you pleasure hit home a little.

"Zaynie!" You cried out, breaking character as you wrapped yourself around your husband like a vice. Your cries of pleasure spurred him on, determined to wring another orgasm from you as he sought his own satisfaction.

He hooked your leg over his shoulder, opening you up further as he hammered into your spasming cunt. His free hand reached up to roughly palm your breast, tweaking your nipple between his fingers.

His pace became erratic as he neared his peak. "Fuck, y/n! Cum with me, love!" He groaned, pressing his face in your chest, hurrying to remove your blouse.

With one final brutal thrust, he slammed home as his orgasm crashed over him. Thick ropes of cum painted your insides, triggering your own climax. Your walls milked him greedily, pulsing around his twitching cock as he emptied himself deep inside you.

After several moments, Zayne slowly withdrew from your spent body, rolling off the table to carry you to the couch nearby, pulling you into his lap. He held you close, nuzzling your hair affectionately. "Where is it?"

You knew he was talking about your ring, so you motioned to your bag and Zayne reached over to your purse, keeping you still on your lap and dug around the front pocket to pick out your ring.

His fingers deftly slide the cool metal band onto your waiting finger. "There. Where it should be." He punctuated his words with another fierce kiss, claiming your mouth hungrily as he squeezed you tighter against himself.

You moaned softly in the kiss, as he flipped you on you back, "Now, what were you saying about your husband, huh?" Zayne kissed down your neck. With your body laid bare beneath him, he traced kisses along your collarbone before capturing your lips once again.

"You know I was only joking, right?" You asked, cupping his cheeks as you kissed back.

Zayne smirked, nibbling on your lips, "Mmm, I do. You scream in my bed all night, how could I not?" His smirk grew into a broad grin, his hands running down your curves with reverence as he sat up, admiring the sight of your flushed skin glowing under the room's dim lighting.

{LaDs Kinktober Taglist: @m00nchildwrites}

#kinktober #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #lads smut #lads x reader #zayne smut #lads zayne #lnds zayne #zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace #l&ds zayne #zayne lads #love and deepspace zayne #zayne lnds #zayne l&ds #lads

189 notes · View notes

bluegekk0 · 4 months ago

Text

Finished designs for the FPK Dragon AU! Very happy with how they turned out, I'm definitely going to draw more art for this side AU in the future

Some short info and close-ups below

General AU stuff:

I don't have many story or world details yet, but in general it would be quite simplified and changed in a lot of ways

The vessels are not a thing, though The Radiance does exist and the infection would still happen in some shape or form (I haven't thought of the details yet). Holly's purpose would still be to put a stop to it, but the whole aspect of emotionless void beings is not included

Humans don't exist in this world, so the one above is simply to get an idea of their scale. The dragons in that world are sapient and live in communities, a lot of them can use magic and similar powerful abilities

More info to be added as I brainstorm it, and I might design more characters for the AU in the future

Character specific stuff:

Vyrm - a lot of his backstory is very similar to the main AU, his kind is considered extinct (the reason would most likely be different), though he never changed his form to be smaller, which means his large wyrm form does not exist here. His relationship with WL was also basically the same, as was his journey of discovering his love for Grimm. And just like in the main AU, he ended up losing his status as a leader and hibernating. Unsure whether he would also lose all his powers, since I want to keep his workshop hobby and I like the idea of him having powers that he learned specifically for that purpose (not to mention, doing any kind of precise engineering would be difficult with his dragon anatomy). So we'll have to see.

Grimm - once again a very similar backstory to his main AU counterpart. He is one of the most powerful dragons to exist, and The Radiance is still his sister in this AU. He was banished from his homeland and stripped of many of his powers, losing his status as a higher dragon as a result. I'm still brainstorming how NKG comes into the AU, as of now my idea is that it would be closer to a god-like beast form than a being in another realm, but it may still change. And I'm still thinking how to reconceptualize the ritual to fit this version. Even though he's much weaker than in his prime, he's still more powerful than an average dragon, especially in the NKG form (if that is the direction I take with him).

Lewk, Asta and Milo - basically the same as in the main AU. Lewk and Asta can fly just fine, Milo however is incapable of it (and will likely remain that way even as he gets older, with his wings being too small and weak for flight).

Hornet - in most aspect she's the same, though her half-spider origin would be changed to something else; Herrah is not a spider in this AU, though she would still be quite beastly and unique in her appearance. She has two pairs of wings, which are a trait inherited from her mother's side. She knows silk magic, which she learned as a young dragon.

Zote - he's the most unique here body plan wise, I based his design on pterosaurs. I loved the mental image of him being this annoying, bird-like dragon. In basically all aspects he's the same as his main AU counterpart, though being a dragon I imagine he would have a more impressive lifespan than an average bug in the main AU. He's a herbivore dragon, his mouth resembles a beak, and he has no powers, only a nasty attitude.

Holly - as mentioned before, they are not a vessel in this AU, nor a void being. Instead, they're a hybrid of Vyrm and WL, who is a powerful higher dragon, and were trained to stop The Radiance and put an end to the infection from the day they hatched. Though they did end up learning void magic to aid them in the fight, I think that would be a nice way to preserve at least some of that aspect and it would explain the color of their body in this version. They have a mouth, though they are still mute, likely as a result to battle damage. Like in the main AU, they lost one of their eyes and a limb, and I'm considering designing a prosthetic wing for them at some point to mirror their counterpart.

#gekko.art #feral pk au #dragon fpk au #fpk #vyrm #grimm #lewk #asta #milo #hornet #zote #holly #dragon #hollow knight au

289 notes · View notes

artificial-transmutations · 7 months ago

Text

Historically Accurate

"I'm telling you, Hollywood is going down with all the woke crap! You know what they say: Go woke go broke!"

Julian and Wallace were on their way back from the lunch room and the former was listening to the latter complaining. Julian had tried to avoid any topic like this, but, really, it was a mine field with Wallace. Just about *every* topic had the potential to turn out political.

"I don't see what's wrong with a little inclusion in pop culture." Julian said, not wanting to argue but also not wanting to leave that opinion unopposed.

"Everything! It's just plain wrong, and it's brainwash, too. I mean, it's like a mind virus, poisoning everything! There's a western coming out next week. But it's all bullshit woke agenda again. The cowboy is black and gay! Literal brainwash and historical rewrite."

Julian frowned. How could an intelligent person like Wallace be so stupid at the same time?

"Why does that even bother you? I thought you hated westerns."

"Yes, that's not the point. Fact is, it's historically inaccurate and just pushing the woke agenda."

"Actually, I think it's not even historically incorrect." Julian pondered as they entered the lab using Julian's keycard and an iris scan of both scientists.

Wallace was borderline angry now.

"What are you talking about? Everyone knows that cowboys were the whitest and the straightest people there were."

"I'm not quite sure", Julian said. "Weren't there freed slaves and so on? And I would guess if you were underway with another guy for prolonged periods of time, not everything staid straight, too."

"Bullshit! Everyone knows cowboys weren't fags, and they were white."

Wallace seemed agitated now, and his usual stiff demeanor became even more pronounced.

Wallace was in his mid-forties, but the way he was talking, he seemed way older to Julian.

Julian on the other hand was awfully young for the position he had. Being 25, he still didn't look like he had finished college, even though he had his doctorate already.

It was really a bit sad, he thought. Two of the brightest minds and they were bickering over basic, meaningless distinctions like ethnicity or sexual orientation.

"We could just ask the computer." he proposed, but Wallace frowned.

"We are not supposed to use the equipment for private research." he said.

'The computer' was part of the highly secretive project they worked on. When finished, it was supposed to be a time machine, simple as that. The actual time travel device didn't work properly yet, but a part of it, a chronoton boosted quantum computer that was able to access history itself to answer questions about the part, was already functioning quite well.

"But we are supposed to test it from time to time. Are you afraid of the answer it might give?"

"Of course not." Wallace grumbled. "Fine. Computer! Is there any historical evidence of gay black cowboys?"

The voice activated system acknowledged the request with a beep. While waiting for the answer, Julian checked the parameters of the system and found them in near-perfect condition.

Finally, the system answered, with the neutral male voice it was programmed with.

"A significant portion of cowboys consisted of people with African heritage, especially after the freeing of slaves after the civil war. Homosexual acts and attraction were common among cowboys, especially during the trail drives. Demonstrating..."

"Hrmpf." Wallace said, clearly not happy.

Julian, who was still checking the readings, scratched his head.

"Did you remember to disconnect the capsule before making the query? It seems to be drawing power."

"Ah, crap. That's just because of all the bullshit talk. Computer, stop!"

"Unable to comply. Demonstrating... Target: Montana Frontier Area, June 1865..."

The white walls of the chamber started to glow in an ever brighter white that was beginning to hurt the eyes.

"Crap. Julian, cut the power!" Wallace said, now with a clear notion of fear in his voice. The younger scientist didn't answer but tried to do as he was told - but did not succeed in time.

Suddenly, with a flash, their surroundings changed and the two of them found themselves in the middle of a rugged mountain range, on the border of a pine forest. It was late afternoon and the scientists found themselves in a just set-up camp. Two horses were standing nearby, and a small herd of cows was grazing at a meadow.

Wallace sighed and shook his head angrily. "Just great. Look at the mess you just put us in. Now we have to wait until we're rescued. And, apparently, we have to meet some black homo cowboys."

Julian looked around but couldn't see anyone around.

"I would have also guessed so, but there doesn't seem to be anyone there."

His heart sank as he had a terrible suspicion. He had been experimenting lately with a normalization circuit that would embed the time travelers into history instead of superimposing them onto it. That was - according to his theories - a rather elegant way to resolve the repelling effect the historical structure had, but it wasn't finished by any means. It had never been tested and even theoretically, it wouldn't be able to achieve a partial embedding, only a full one at best. And the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that it had still been connected to the system.

As Julian thought about how to break it to Wallace, he noticed something strange about the other scientist. It could be a trick of the light, but he looked way more tanned than before.

"Uhm... It might actually be somewhat worse than that. I think my normalization circuit was still active when you activated the machine."

"What? What does that mean?" Wallace looked at him, furiously now.

"Well, I would guess..." Julian struggled and gave up. "Look at your hands, I think it's pretty self-explanatory."

Wallace looked down at his darkening hands and paled. Even now, he still had a considerably darker skin tone than before, darkening with every passing second.

"Shit." he said. "That's what you get for fucking around with a half-finished experiment."

Julian didn't even dare to mention his suspicion. If his normalization circuit was really active, that would make Wallace an actual, black cowboy, and not just him. Julian was also a time traveler, so he, too, would be affected.

Meanwhile, the changes in Wallace seemed to have proceeded. His facial structure looked like it was in motion before finally settling on a generally broader, manlier shape: The jawline became more pronounced, and his cheekbones raised.

"Is there... anything going on with me as well?" Julian asked.

Wallace looked over at him.

"Yeah, your hair color is changing, and I think your eye color. Blonde and blue-eyed, how cliché. But most importantly, you're not becoming fucking a fucking Black man."

Wallace didn't say Black man.

For some reason, this didn't bother Julian half as much as it should have. He felt rather at ease, and the untamed wilderness around him awakened a sense of adventure inside of him that he didn't know was in him.

Meanwhile Wallace was also feeling a change within. A surge of confidence emerged from within him that was entirely alien to the deeply insecure man at first, but quickly became more and more part of his personality. It was like his core was solidifying into a confident and assertive nature, a boldness and quiet he secretly always wished he had. At the same time, his body structure changed considerably.

Where before, Wallace had been a physically unimpressive mid-forties man, it now seemed like the years melted off of him, and for every year that he lost, he gained three pounds of muscle mass and beef. His shoulders widened, his height increased, and his frame expanded in order to accommodate the new body mass.

"It's not that bad, ain't it?" While Julian's body had not changed much besides the hair and eye color, his voice sounded entirely different now. It had a southern lilt to it, but it was charismatic and charming. It was the kind of voice you could listen to for hours without end, perfect for reading an audiobook - or telling campfire stories.

"Well now, I ain't too sure 'bout that." Wallace's voice had changed even more considerably when he answered. He had gained a thick southern accent, and his voice had dropped to a low and smooth voice that sounded commanding even if he didn't intend to.

"Ha, look at that, your skin's startin' to change now, too!"

And really, Julian's skin had started to adapt as well, but it was quickly becoming apparent that it went a different route than Wallace's. Instead of darkening to the almost black tone that he was sporting, Julian's skin became rougher and got a sun-kissed tan instead. His facial features sharpened, as his cheekbones looked chiseled all of a sudden and a rugged beard texture was adorning his chin. Julian seemed to notice it, too, since he started touching his new face immediately.

"Cool! Always wondered what I'd look like sportin' a beard." he said, apparently not too unhappy with the changes.

There was no denying Julian looked good, which made Wallace feel a touch of jealousy. In his opinion, it wasn't fair that he was the only one having to deal with the black skin. That feeling quickly faded, though, as his changes continued. His hair became very short, curly and dark. At the same time, a short beard formed on his chin and upper lip, giving him an even manlier appeal. At the same time, chest hair sprouted, sparsely of course, as it was normal for a man of his heritage. A strange feeling overcame Wallace. He wasn't necessarily *proud* to be Black now, but he also didn't mind it anymore. He was proud of a lot of secondary assets, though, like his bulging muscles or his handsome face. As his eyes became a dark brown, he had to smirk as he sat down by the fire, readjusting himself in the process. And, of course, his big cock, which might also have been positively influenced by his new ancestry.

Wallace watched as Julian turned around and tended to the horses. His body was now, finally, also changing. It didn't become nearly as bulky as his own, but instead lean and agile, with narrow hips and a well-distributed surprising strength, as Wallace knew. While Julian was busy with the horses, Wallace had a good view of his ass. It filled out the jeans just so well, and Vallace only noticed now that the other man's attire had changed. He was clad in a pair of blue jeans, a vest and, of course a Stetson now, and Vance always thought that this outfit accentuated the best parts of his partner quite well. He preferred black leather, himself, since the material was sturdier and felt better on the skin.

Vince felt his cock hardening in his leather pants and readjusted himself again while also leaning back and spreading his legs to make more room for the erection. He wasn't afraid of anyone seeing his rude behavior. The only other man within a wide range was Jesse, the owner of that juicy ass. And he was allowed to see... well, everything.

Vince waited patiently until Jesse returned to the campfire, with a big smile on his face.

"How them horses holdin' up, partner?" Vince asked.

"They're good. Just a tad worn out from today's ride." Jesse answered.

"Well, there's somethin' else needs tendin' to, if you're free to lend a hand. Or an ass." Vince grinned and made his cock throb in the confines of his tight leather pants.

Jesse grinned at the display of masculinity and massaged his own cock.

"Hell yes!"

As Jesse moved over in his usual graceful movements, Vince leaned back. There really wasn't anything better than being a big, black cowboy. Especially not with a partner like Jesse, who was always happy to make the nights in the wilderness a little less lonely.

Certainly not poor and lonesome! Also check out this awesome writer!

There are a few more versions of Jesse and Vince, over at my tip jar.

#male transformation #straight to gay #muscle transformation #racial transformation #cowboy #historical transformation

373 notes · View notes

mondaymelon · 1 year ago

Text

— 𝗵𝗶𝘀. ♥

໒꒱ || :feat~ diluc, venti, xiao, abyss!aether x gn!reader ໒꒱ || cw: this wasn't supposed to be yandere... but it morphed into one. (WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE SOFT XIAO AND EVERYTHING... mb) ໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @solxima

⤷ how they make you theirs. ♥

A heart-shaped box of chocolates and a fresh bouquet of red roses? There's no doubt it's DILUC who's left them on your doorstep.

It's not uncommon for the stoic man to find it difficult to express his emotions... and often, the redhead feels as if you aren't aware of how much he adores you.

Ah, but then again... his affection for you is much more intense than he'd like to admit, so perhaps it's for the better that you remain unaware.

That said, it can't hurt to leave a couple of gifts for you, right? Presents are a thing that are meant to make one happy, and whenever you're happy, so is he. Anything from sweets to flowers, possibly even a handful of jewels or a pendant... leaving them for you is the least he can do to make sure you know how loved you are.

Or perhaps... "love" isn't exactly the suitable word to describe the expanse of emotions he experiences whenever he sees you... after all, how could a mere four letters explain such a feeling that seemed to consume him, devour him whole?

But that aside, if you happen to confront him about the matter, softly thanking him with a faint tint to your cheeks... be careful, he might not be able to hold back his feelings any longer! As soon as you excuse yourself, Diluc mutters into the air, one gloved hand tentatively covering his mouth, his face flushed beyond belief.

"Ah, next time, should I gift you the severed hand of anyone who dares touch what is mine?" ♥

What should've been just one drink with VENTI has turned to two, to three, to...

It's almost laughable, how the drunken bard has practically attached himself to your arm, clinging to you what seems to be rather loosely - yet the moment you try to weasel out of his grasp, his arms tighten around yours.

You can see by his dazed expression and the way a drunken flush has descended across his face that he's far from sober... and you're quite sure that you aren't better off yourself. Sensing his gaze, you turn as the male begins to speak, his words hopelessly slurred together.

"Hey hey, why do you keep trying to... escape...?" He pouts as he leans closer to you, pressing his face against your arm. "I...I'm not that unbearable, am I?"

"Eh? No... it's just a little hot in here... and you're too close. Back up a bit, would you?"

"Don't wanna." Did he usually act like this, or was his current state just making him all the more clingy? You supposed it didn't really matter, but the room did seem quite warm, especially with how Venti's heat mixed with yours... oh, were you blushing? Was that what it was?

Perhaps that would explain the way there's this odd thumping in your ears... is that your heart's own rhythm? Ah, no, it must just be the alcohol taking its toll.

"Hehe," Venti's voice somehow rings crystal clear amidst your foggy senses. "You're quite cute when you're like this, you know~" Since when had you leaned into his arms? He speaks some more, but his next words are barely heard by your ears:

"It makes me want to lock you up so that only I will be able to lay eyes on you... a beautiful dove that is mine." ♥

There was something about you that seemed to draw XIAO in, a something that seemed to enrapture him.

And that fact, in and of itself, frustrated him. To feel so attached to something as fleeting as a mortal? Mortals, whose life could be vanquished like one blowing out a candle?

Ah, perhaps "frustrated" wasn't quite the word for it. After all, an angered someone wouldn't monitor your every move, would they? ...But he's doing this for your own good - at least, that's what he tells himself. Humans are fragile, more than anything, so he'll take the matter of your life into his hands and make sure you won't ever get hurt! He's truly being the benevolent adeptus, isn't he?

Oh, but now you seem worried, all of a sudden. You're trembling in his arms, weakly telling him about how you can always feel someone's gaze on you - how you're scared, how you... need him?

Fuck, he can't control the twisted smile that makes its way onto his face. You've admitted it, haven't you? You can't live without him.

And that's exactly what he wants.

To be beside you every waking second, to own your gaze, to own you... yes, he needs you as much as you need him.

As you curl up in his arms, basking in his quiet warmth as you slowly drift into sleep, his voice emits the quietest whispers.

"Don't worry, love. As long as I'm here, you won't ever need to worry about anyone. Your gaze, your attention... it's all mine." ♥

He had already traveled these lands once, and AETHER's once vibrant world had grown gray... except...

Oh, but then you appeared. An anomaly, but a welcome one nonetheless.

Yes, you were something stunning.

In this dead realm, you were alive. Alive in the way you looked at him and alive in the way your eyes seemed to light up at the sight of him. It's something that starts off small - that is, his feelings for you. For the time being, delightfully innocent. Yet those emotions would only begin to swallow him whole, to consume him, bind him into a pit of no escape.

When had these affections grown so dire?

Perhaps he had merely turned a blind eye. He is well aware of how his heart longs for you, how his mind has grown clouded with nothing but thoughts of you, how he wants you to be his, and his only... ah, but was that truly such a selfish thing to hope for? Surely not. After all, in such a place he resided in - where all would heed to his beck and call... surely he could have you, right?

"My prince, is something wrong? You've been acting distant all morning." You trail after him as he attends to his work, eyes full of concern.

He turns, slowly. "Why are you so hesitant to call me by my name?"

"Oh, but I could never..." You shake your head at the thought.

His eyes narrow as he takes two swift steps forward, grabbing your chin in his hand and forcing it upwards. "Then take it as an order. Say my name."

"...Aether."

It sounds so perfect on your tongue.

"Ah, that's it. Let my name grace your lips, and don't you dare let it go. After all, and I'll make sure of it... You're mine." ♥

(a/n) boo bitches im back <;33

1K notes · View notes