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pseudowho · 2 months

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Operation: Babymaker-- Honeytrap/Maid Café

💜 💛 When it comes to trying for a baby, Nanami Kento always works overtime. And the reader had better be ready. 💛 💜

💜💛 You are sent undercover to a Maid Café on ovulation night, to Honeytrap a curse-user for capture and trial. Kento is pissed off, and he won't be letting anyone get away with this lightly.

💛💜Part 1 LINK HERE: A Trip to the Tailors

💛💜Part 2 LINK HERE: Benchpress

💛💜Part 3 LINK HERE: Ditch the Party...again

💛💜 Part 4 LINK HERE: Wet Dreams

Warnings: 18+ throughout, breeding kink, fertility/infertility discussion, jealous Kento, exhibitionism, use of toys

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Ships in the night.

Five days...a week...a week and a half. Kento couldn't take it anymore. The universe was conspiring against him. Against you. Work had meant you had barely shared a room together, let alone a bed. Kento hissed as he threw a file onto Yaga's desk, his neck prickling with rage...his balls heavy and untouched.

Another two months of negative tests had passed. He was still yet to see you, swollen and round with his seed. He was still yet to justifiably refuse for you to be sent on dangerous missions. His heart broke for every dribble of cum he saw trickle out of your pussy after he was finished with you.

Kento had taken to plugging you with his cock until he was ready to fuck you full of his seed again. Forcing your arse up on pillows, his cock still cushioned within you, Kento would overstimulate you with your vibrator. With you pinned and whimpering beneath him, his cock throbbing to life again inside those plush clenching walls, there was nowhere your shaking orgasms could suck his cum other than up.

Kento was obsessed. He could feel this desire to breed you becoming pathological. He read dirty doujinshi, full of x-ray panels of cocks spurting cum straight into empty wombs, soon swollen and bursting with load after load. He fisted himself with urgent strokes while reading these, your panties wrapped around his hand, moaning into your pillow with your smell, each time stopping just before he came...just in case you were to arrive home early. Which, you never did.

He cursed at the unreliability of ovulation tests, and grabbed your freshly discarded panties out of the laundry basket instead, fingering your discharge between forefinger and thumb, assessing for that egg-white stretch. You woke up more than once to a thermometer being snuck into your mouth, Kento logging your signs onto a spreadsheet, waiting for that golden ovulation algorithm to ping.

In a mad moment, he even considered buying a long syringe, so he could jack off, fill it, and then fill you with his cum while you slept, exhausted from your long days. Kento laughed at himself, horrified by such a truly insane, unthinkable notion...although...

Kento shut himself into his office, barely suppressing a groan at the thought of squirting his warm cum straight through your cervix. Kento crouched down on his haunches, cock beginning to ache and fatten, and raking his fingers through his neatly parted hair.

With a groan and a prayer, Kento pulled out his phone and messaged you. At first he was thrilled, his heart leaping with love when you text him back immediately...before the slow descent into madness began again.

Your knees. Your panties around them. Your fingers, dabbing clear, stretchy discharge between them.

Kento's cock had never stiffened so quickly in his entire life. He stood, silent. He left you on read. He couldn't possibly put thoughts as debauched as his into words, he thought, stalking through the corridors and paths of Jujutsu High until he reached his car.

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Kento arrived home with a spring in his step, listening to old, saved voicemails and voice notes you had left him, on his drive home. His cock ached, stretching against his tan trousers, weeping pre-cum. He planned to keep you up all night, but he'd graciously keep filling you, prone and sleepy (with your permission, of course), if you tapped out.

"Darling!" He called out, tossing his briefcase into the corner before slamming the door closed with his foot, "I'm home!"

Except, you weren't. He could feel that instantly, and a seed of horror sowed itself in his core, growing into something far meaner as he picked up the note you had left behind on the kitchen counter for him.

Kento's hand shook, crumpling the paper between strong fingers with a crunch.

He had had enough.

Reaching into his pocket for his phone, he dialled, waited...and spoke.

"Ijichi? Tell me where she is. Now, please."

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A brothel, barely masquerading as a Maid Café, skirting the borders of the entertainment districts and the red light districts. The usual Friday night haunt of a Curse user who had been evading capture for months. The dump where you had been sent to honeytrap him before he could escape again.

Kento had dressed to fit in, in a slim black suit and open-necked white shirt, expertly tailored, with just enough room to fit his blunt blade and harness beneath the jacket. He snaked through the dimly lit street, feeling the necking couples in alleyways, cutting through the lamp-illuminated steam billowing from noisy restaurants, until he reached some narrow stairs up, barely visible unless you knew what you were here for.

Ascending the steps, Kento could feel every curve of you on the side of his tongue, tracing your Cursed energy above the suppression of his own. He felt the Curse user, too, and Kento's face twisted into a snarl to feel such filth near you, on tonight of all nights--

"Table for one. Somewhere quiet."

The Maid demurred, smiling and simpering and barely a grown woman, Kento noted, keeping a respectful distance as she led him to his table. The lights were low enough to mute the wandering, clasping hands of the raucous tables of men. The rooms tucked to the side, bathed in red light and sin, were clearly for private commissions.

Urged into a plush corner couch, Kento turned the lamp away from himself, plunging him into shadow. He leaned back, eyes dipped low beneath dark glasses, waiting to taste you on the side of his tongue again. He accepted only a drink.

You had entered actor mode, not unfamiliar with the practice, having reeled in more than one unsuspecting Curse user over the years. In your black and white maid dress, stockings and suspenders, and tall high heels, the devilish fun of the hunt was still tainted by your lost evening with Kento.

You knew, bitterly, that you were ovulating, with sore plump breasts, that familiar low ache on one side of your belly, and your desperate need to be at home, being filled, instead of at a maid cafe trying to reel in this creep. You were doing a good job of looking like you were enjoying the feel of his cold hands creeping around your thighs. You giggled and slapped his chest when he nosed at your neck. Your new manager looked on approvingly, the new girl already raking in the customers.

Before long, you heard the other girls whispering to each other.

"--so hot, but he doesn't want anyone--"

"So what, like...he's just here for drinks? I don't get it--"

"--tried to sit on his lap and he told me I deserved better, what the hell does he mean--"

Intrigued though you were, you hardly had time to see what the ruckus was about. You were moving in for the kill, your flirtations paying off as your prey pressed a wodge of bills into the hand of the manager, and a couple of bills between your breasts.

"Let's go somewhere quiet, doll, yeah?"

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"...sir...I am sorry to interrupt your evening, sir...only, my girls have noticed that they don't seem to be to your liking. Is there anything I can do to make your visit more enjoya--"

"Your new girl," Kento offered, clipped as he interrupted. The manager raised his eyebrows, turning briefly to see you, being toyed with on the lap of another patron. The manager cleared his throat, his pocket full of a fat roll of bills, smiling awkwardly at Kento.

"I'm sorry, sir...it appears another guest has already taken a liking to--"

"How much?" Kento interrupted again, his deep, smooth voice gravitational, drawing the many wandering Maids closer to him. The manager faltered again, so Kento raised his voice, gripping his glass and swirling the bourbon within, amber in the warm distant light.

"How much," Kento enunciated, taking a long draw from his glass, with a hiss, "do you think your new girl is worth? Tell me."

The manager paused, his squirrelly little mind grasping another money-making opportunity. He offered Kento a figure. The girls jumped and squealed as Kento's hand tightened on his glass, breaking it, an audible crack in his hand.

"More," Kento pressed, dropping his glass to the table. Another figure was offered, higher this time. Kento bared his teeth, growling at the manager, leaning forwards on his knuckles as he began to stand.

"More." The manager stuttered, throwing out another, much higher figure.

"MORE." Kento roared, slamming a fist on the table, the café growing immediately silent around him. He thought he saw you try to turn your head in his direction, and a slither of violent disgust burned in his chest as he saw the Curse user grasp you to him by the neck, pressing a sloppy kiss to it.

The manager gawped at Kento, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Kento scoffed, pulling a thick stack of bills out of his pocket, passing it to one of the nearby Maids, without breaking eye-contact with the sweating manager.

"She's priceless," Kento hissed, hearing the Maids gasp behind him at the stack of bills. "So if you know what's good for you...they'll split that between them, and you will not interrupt me. Do we understand each other?"

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You held your Curse user prey by his collar, walking backwards on your heels, leading him to the red velvet room. He grinned at you, all spit and salacious, with cigarette-stained teeth, his hands wandering down to ruck up the skirt of your dress.

You pushed the door open with your heeled foot, pulling the Curse user in with you. The door swung closed behind him, and you had barely a moment to see the hulking, backlit red-spectre lying in ambush behind the door.

"Get your dirty fucking hands off my wife, or I'll snap your neck."

Picked up by the back of the collar, and tossed sideways like a ragdoll, the Curse user hit the wall beside the bed with a dull crack, out cold in under a second. Kento snatched a curtain-tie, binding the Curse-user's hands behind him. You flustered at Kento, as he stood.

"Kento-- what the hell are you doing her--"

You felt your chin gripped, firm but gentle, between Kento's thumb and forefinger. He glowered down at you, icy cold, his protectiveness frosted with jealous possession. His voice was calm, measured, manipulative.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here, little one? Dressed like that, no less...anyone would think you weren't married."

You swallowed, blushing and moving to defend yourself; "It's work, Kento, you know I--"

"--didnt mean anything by it? That it wasn't real?" Kento kept you gripped by the chin, slowly moving you back towards the high edge of the bed. You teetered on your heels, and he stabilised you, one thick arm looping around your waist, pressing you to him. You could feel the throb of his cock lengthening against your belly, and trembled.

"You're right..." Kento whispered, his breath ghosting your lips as he leaned down to trap you against the foot of the bed, caging you in, "...you couldn't possibly be satisfied by him, over me."

Kento fingered the lace edge of your stockings, the ruffled puff of your barely-there skirt. He shuddered against your lips, feeling his cock jump in his boxers.

"...seems a shame to waste this. Let's give these bastards a real show, shall we?" Kento hooked open the door with his heel, enough to hear the laughs and chatter from the café beyond.

After pressing a single, deep kiss to your lips, Kento dropped to his knees, glaring up at you in challenge. You found yourself glassy-eyed with anticipation, biting your lip, smiling as you teased the ruffles of your skirt up, to edge your lace stockings; "...do you like it?"

Kento bit, gripping you round the thighs and pressing them open with bruising force, aggressively nuzzling his face under your skirts. You squealed, laughing as he nipped and licked at you, growling against your mound and nuzzling your wafer-thin panties aside; "I love it...fuck, I love it, c'mere--"

Kento hooked your knees over his shoulders, looping his arms under your thighs to pin you against the foot of the bed. You heard a passing Maid outside your door gasp at the same time as you, at the sight of Kento kneeling and shoulder-deep in the ruffles of your skirts, your stockinged legs over his shoulders, his tongue plunging between your folds to taste you with an ecstatic moan.

"--oh god Kento-- yes yes yes please," you babbled, sinking your fingers into his hair and tugging at the roots. Kento murmured against your pussy, lubricating you with his spit, rolling his nose, tongue, and chin up and down the length of your folds, with all the fervour of a man deprived.

You heard whistles and catcalls from the café, and blushed, throwing one arm over your eyes, your pleasure building with the sloppy debauchery of Kento dipping his tongue into your entrance and nuzzling his nose firmly into your clit. He repeated this, patient, stroking his tongue over and around your clit with relentless wet flicks and sucks. When Kento gently nipped your clit between his teeth, you screamed in alarm, juddering and close to orgasm.

You clamped your thighs around Kento's head, muffling the sounds of the café around him. Reaching up two fingers, plunging them into your pussy and hooking them forwards towards him and the squashy g-spot in your cunt, Kento hooked you. Flicking his tongue from side to side over your clit, Kento chuckled against your pussy, his cock leaping within its confines.

"--in front of every-- Kento, fffuuuck please close them-- nnnngg cumming, cumming I'm cumming--"

You cried out in bliss, convulsing, gripping Kento's hair for dear life. In tandem with your twisting and mewling, you heard a chorus of cheers, hoots and clapping in the café, the men jeering and the women giggling. You shuddered, stunned, still wracked with pleasure.

"More?" Kento asked, nuzzling between your folds still, gripping you tightly to him so you couldn't clamber away across the bed. You babbled nonsense at Kento, slapping at the top of his head as his pulled his face away a little, and repeated, louder; "MORE?"

More cheers sounded from outside, and Kento grinned beneath your skirts, diving in to pleasure you again. You could barely stay upright, seeing stars, crunching around his head. The Curse-user began to stir on the floor to your right, as Kento dragged you across the coals to another stinging orgasm, so sharp after following your first so closely.

Kento came up for air to find you, flopped backwards, flushed and gasping on the bed. Slapping your thighs hard enough to make you squeak, Kento reached down and pulled you up by the back of the neck, pressing a long, familiar kiss to your lips. Tasting yourself on his mouth, you knew his next words to be true.

"Mine. Now, always, and especially-- fucking-- tonight," he emphasised each word with a brittle slap to your thigh. Flipping you over against the bed, face down and arse up, your heeled feet wobbling against the floor, Kento sighed, flipping your skirts up and admiring the view. He trailed his fingers against the top of your stockings, and the way the plush of your thighs peeped over them.

"Still no fucking baby-- and you fuck off to seduce another man tonight? The audacity," Kento purred, and you heard the clink of Kento undoing his belt behind you.

Kento was hooking his weeping, heavy cock out of his boxers just in time to see the Curse-user awaken, dazed and furious at Kento stroking his cock in preparation, over his Maid, strewn helplessly over the bed. Kento smirked, letting his Cursed-energy burst out with enough force to leave the man on the floor, and you on the bed, breathless with the stormy oppression of it.

"...you bastard-- that's my...I paid for her," the Curse user snapped, straining against his bonds. Kento laughed, bracketing you with his thick arms against the bed. His left hand grasped your left hand as he lined his aching cock up with your entrance. Kento slid your clasped hands, wedding bands clearly visible, across the sheets towards the Curse user.

"Yeah? I married her," Kento growled, kicking your heeled feet aside and fucking into you in one smooth movement, rocking his hips a few times against your cries, until he bottomed out with a roar. Kento pulled you to him by your hair, and smacked an affectionate kiss to the side of your face, before flinging you back against the velvet sheets.

He stood tall, gripping your hips to press your pussy close, and cracked his neck from side to side. He heard the enthusiastic crowd behind him, feeling a bizarre prickle of competition down his spine.

When Kento began thrusting into you with joyful abandon, you felt every vein, every throbbing ridge of him. Gripping the sheets for something, anything to stop you from being fucked up the bed, you screamed into the sheets with every hit. When you turned round to shoot Kento a blushing look of barely-sincere fury, Kento landed a stinging slap to your arse, and the Maids behind you giggled at the door.

Kento was lost in the moment, thrilled to be finally able to fill your belly, ecstatic with the knowledge that he was about to spill into you at just the right point in your cycle. His pleasure built fast, grasping your hips and slamming them back onto his cock, with rough slaps and grunts. He controlled himself for long enough to slip his hand beneath your mound, pinching and rolling your clit between his fingers while he whispered husky promises in your ear.

"--so fucking good-- waiting for me...haaah yes, take it-- good girl-- fuck a baby into you tonight-- you want that? Hmm? Is this-- is this it-- is this the--the one...fuck, not gonna last, cum with me, c'mon, please--"

Kento reached over you, his hand grasping you by the neck and jaw, craning your head backwards. He thought he'd be able to last, but when you sucked his forefinger into your mouth, your wet little tongue rolling over the pad as you suckled on it, Kento came with a slew of curses, a rough, alarmed bark.

Wildly overstimulated, you clenched around Kento as he pumped thick ropes of cum into you, feeling him tense and groan against your back with the blinding force of his orgasm. He continued to roll your clit, plugging you and panting until you came with a shaky little cry, your pussy tightening and sucking at his cock until he shivered with residual bliss.

Panting, coming down from your respective highs, you and Kento both turned to look at the Curse user on the floor. A noisy round of applause rang in from the café and you laughed despite yourself, wiggling against Kento.

"Lucky bastard..." the Curse user whined into the rug, "Piece of...piece of shit...should have been me--"

"Fuck off," rumbled Kento, "you're lucky you're not dead. Save it for trial."

You felt Kento rummaging in his pocket behind you. As he slipped his softening cock out of you, you squealed to find yourself hurriedly filled with a dildo, plugging you all the way to your belly. You groaned against the sheets, squirming, and Kento flipped your skirts down.

"...do you want to finish your shift?" He offered, voice full of mirth. You kicked back at him with one heeled foot as he laughed.

"If this is the one that gets us pregnant, I'll kill you."

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 2 months

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I suspect it's something to do with the boop coding, but 90% of the posts on my dash are suddenly being attributed to one of three Tumblr users: @thickness-protection-program, @aardvaark, or @running-in-the-dark. The profile pics of the actual post authors aren't changing, nor the links to the real blogs. And yet. 90% of my mutuals, to my unsettled eyes, seem to suddenly be doing the April Fools digital equivalent of the whole court gathering around me at a masquerade ball, each wearing one of three trickster god masks, while I desperately try to discern who's who by looking at their shoes (i.e. their particular brand of hyper fixating madness to which I am accustomed.)

Not sure if these three users are a triple-aspect trickster deity during normal operations. The greatest irony is that I've never interacted with any of them. Hello you three. Nice to meet your URLs.

#why tumblr why

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totothewolff · 9 days

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Chemtrails Over the Yacht Club Collection 18+ | Toto Wolff x reader, age gap, smut operator, clear daddy issues (this fic is inspired by Lana del Rey, duh), and yacht culture.

Summary: Toto Wolff is a name often mentioned at the Yacht Club, where you work after classes. For some reason, you have always pictured him as an old crank like the usual members, not this foxy man who arrives at the reception making your knees quiver. The entire staff goes frenetic as he, one of the Club's most important clients, chooses to spend his spring break there without previous notice. You pray to the Gods that you don't cross lines with him since your entire livehood depends on this job, and you really want to graduate college. Author's note: This was supposed to be a one-shot but was way too long, so I split it into two chapters. I hope you enjoy them. By the way, this version of Toto has questionable morals.

< Masterlist | Next chapter >

1 - Dark but just a game

As the sun rises over the Mediterranean Sea, you find yourself running across the streets of Monaco at full speed, like a mad girl, your ponytail swaying behind you like a pendulum, sprinting as fast as you are able all the way from the bus stop to the iconic doorway stairs to Monaco's most prestigious, exclusive, and expensive Yacht Club.

To your fucking luck, you are running late because you didn't hear the many alarms set on your phone.

Not because you are acting lazy; these past weeks have been brutal, and your body is exhausted from work, college, and tests.

As you quickly climb the marble steps, you pray you don't slip and break your nose against them. Cleaning it will be a nightmare, and you already have many chores to do that day.

The staff access is all the way down the next street, but you only have about 2 minutes left to check in on time. Either you use this shortcut or get another notice, so you risk it!

For obvious reasons, the staff isn't supposed to use the member's and guests' main entrance; the one that leads to the glamorous and iconic lobby with the front desk and stunning bar that is featured in many Architectural Digest issues due to his architectural heritage and art deco layout, but fuck it.

You would rather get a reprimand from your boss, the Members Services & Events Department director, than a salary fine. You are already biting your nails to meet this month's end.

As soon as you reach the large double gold-framed doors, you feel the fresh air of the AC hitting your pores with a sweet scent of jasmine.

You want to make the most discreet and casual way in, trying to blend and go unnoticed between the people there and their soft hums of conversations, but Lord! Fate hates you.

As soon as you push the doors open, you feel your keys flying out of your blue short's tiny pocket.

You don't know who to blame the most: the designers who insist on putting those stupid, almost fake pockets on women's clothes, the massive ball of keys your manager insists you carry around at work due to the old-timey tradition of the place, or you for running relentlessly.

The sound the keys make when they hit the pristine and immaculate stone floor makes you want to die; it sounds like a torpedo hitting the ground.

All the people inside there, the ones chatting on the trendy and expensive lounge pearl white sofas, the ones getting down the swirl stairs from the terrace under that beautiful chandelier and massive skylight, the people enjoying their morning by the gold leaf bar drinking their welcoming Italian soda and the expertly crafted canapés along with the hot man standing at the front desk next to your boss turn their heads following the sound, all looking straight at you now as you stand still there in the middle of the room.

The hot man has short brown hair, dark eyes, and a well-built, athletic body that could easily be spotted from a mile away. He exudes power and sexiness, and you can't help but take him in.

"Good morning" is all you come up to say, trying to keep your composure. Fuckity fuck!

The tall man bends his body and reaches down to pick up your rusted keys, which slid near his feet.

"Good morning, kid," he greets you as he enjoys the view of an embarrassed, sweaty, and out-of-breath you, with your hair loosened up from running under the sea breeze and wind in those tiny ass blue shorts and white polo that the Club makes you wear as a uniform, with a very amused smile on his face.

Toto's voice is smooth and captivating, sending shivers down your spine as you listen to him. Your heart races and your cheeks flush with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

You can't believe the man in front of you is talking to you so charmingly. Most members and guests are out of touch or rude towards staff.

"Thank you, s-sir," you quickly reply, grabbing the keys with a slight tremble in your voice.

Toto's eyes twinkle with amusement as he observes your reaction. It's clear to him that his presence takes you aback, and he finds it endearing.

"Who the fuck is this specimen of a man, Jesus Christ!" You think, your brain breaking down a bit.

"Right this way, Mr. Wolff," Chloé, your boss, stands right by him.

She is almost his height and a vision of elegance and authority. Her perfectly styled curly hair and soft, evony skin glimmer as she addresses Toto in the most polite voice, stealing his attention from you.

Before looking at you with an "I'm going to murder you," look in her sharp hazel eyes as a silent warning of the impending reprimand you are getting.

You immediately recognize the last name: Wolff. He most likely is Toto Wolff, the successful businessman who owns one of the villas at the Club and has a beautiful yacht by the dock.

You have heard his name many times before. You know he is one of the most important clients and may be spending his spring break here.

You had no idea he was coming; no one in the crew or staff notified you about it, which is the usual when a big name is to arrive.

But most importantly, you had no idea he looked like that; you always pictured him as an old fart.

Damn, he is hot!

As you fix your wild hair in the locker room, you notice Chloé enter, and you rush to finish tightening your ponytail.

You observe her reflection coming your way in the tiny mirror on the metallic door of your blue locker.

"Here we go."

You can feel Chloé's disapproval while waiting for her words, and your mind races with fears and uncertainties.

"Girl, how often do I have to remind you about the importance of punctuality in this establishment?!" Chloé's voice is like ice seeping into your core, chilling you to the bone.

You feel a mix of panic and frustration, knowing that you have once again fallen short of Chloé's expectations; she is your most supportive person in the entire place.

You bite your lip nervously, trying to devise a plausible explanation for your delay. For the first time, you are glad the staff area of the Club is not as luxurious as the rest of the sparkling oasis venue.

It's a bit dark in there because there are only small windows below ground level, so it is impossible to notice how pale you are right now.

"Of all days, you had to choose today! Please stop being so reckless. There will be a time when I won't be able to stand up for you and help you out! You know I love you, girl, but Raphaël is going to give us so much shit if any of the guests or Abby mention the incident to him."

You feel a wave of self-doubt washing you over. This familiar sensation crept up whenever you faced Chloe's harsh criticisms; she's the best but a challenging and demanding boss.

She is at the top of the game, and Chloé works hard to maintain the Club's reputation and the best guest service in town.

"I-I'm sorry, Chloé," your voice stutters as you try to form an apology, your words coming out in a quiet, shaky breath.

You are still in a whirlwind of emotions. You did your best to keep a professional demeanor in front of Toto's presence and the rest of the guests.

But the entire incident was overwhelming, plus his aura looked like he commanded respect from people.

"At least, Mr. Wolff, laugh it off." Chloé gives you a soft and reassuring rub on the arm. "I had never seen you reach that level of redness, not even when you slipped on the deck of Ms. Basset's yacht with her birthday cake while we sang her happy birthday," Chloé starts laughing at the memory.

"Here is his clown to entertain him," you get slightly embarrassed now and joke back, but you wish.

"Talking of which," Chloé switches tones back to a boss again.

"What?" you feel your heart going wild again.

You struggle to contain your emotions as she delivers you the news with a funny expression.

You can't believe you have been assigned to Mr. Wolff's crew, YOU, to overlook and take care of his stay.

The mere thought of being in close proximity to him sends a flurry of butterflies dancing in your stomach as excitement at the prospect of working closely with Toto until you remember who you are. Then, apprehension fills you with the challenges that lay ahead.

"WHAT?!" you let out aloud.

"Yeah, I know, we know, we all wonder if Mr. Holst is pulling some survival experiment or wants to watch you do you and surprise us with one of your biggest hits, like the one you did today. Seriously, how do these things keep happening to you?! Child, I wonder." Chloé lets out with amusement.

"OH LORD,"

The Yacht Club's poolside bar glistens in the sun's warm embrace. A golden hue covers the luxurious setting and trendy chairs cradle members who lounge in pricey fashion wear and fancy swimsuits.

Laughs and chats overlap the sound of the waves against the shore. The entire pool area has the most beautiful view of Monaco's sea.

Spring is warm enough, and the freshwater of the ocean twinkles and sparks reflections, looking perfect for diving in or jet skiing.

The long pier there is closed right now as the Waterfront crew sets up all the equipment and performs safety checks before starting their water-based activities schedule for guests.

So, most members enjoy the state-of-the-art giant pool: swimming, sunbathing, drinking cocktails, or reading from their Kindles at the moment, making the bar busier.

Today, you are helping the mixologist and bartenders at the pool and terrace bar by restocking ingredients and tracking orders on the KDS.

Jesus, these people have crazy and quirky demands for their beverages and food!

Your feet start hurting from running from one location to another, to the kitchen and warehouse, and up and down the staff's outdoor stairs.

But all pain is gone as you watch Toto approach the bar, wearing an unbuttoned white linen t-shirt and yellow swimming short trunks. His chest and legs look damn good under the sun.

Toto's eyes linger on you as a flashback of a phone call he had with Mr. Holst, the Club Manager and owner, his long-time friend, comes to his mind.

"Miss Y/LN?" Toto says as he reads the list of staff names sent to his email for him to review before arriving at the Club.

"Oh, yes, that one you don't recognize, yeah, that's Y/N," Mr. Holst lets out a long sigh on the other end of the phone.

He doesn't sound excited at the mention of your name.

"She's the young college student who works for us, tirelessly, I must admit, to support her education. That's the only reason why I keep giving her chances."

"Put her on board my crew, then," Toto says while signing a cheque at his office, briefly holding his iPhone with his ear.

"Toto, I must warn you, she is inexperienced and really clumsy. I advise choosing someone else." the boss says.

"Add her, please," Toto commands what he pleases. He knows he can tip you well to help you with the bills.

"Okay, you are going to make me say I told you so," Mr. Holst jokes. "I love you here, my friend, but why the sudden rush to arrive? Shouldn't you be on cloud nine in Milano? You are giving us no time."

A small, sarcastic sigh escapes Toto's lips. "See you soon, my friend," his deep voice ends the call; there is no further explanation.

Your pulse quickens as you stand before Toto. You can smell his delicious cologne, mixed with the scent of saltwater and hints of citrus from the cocktails having served.

"It's a pleasure to see you again," he greets you; his words carry a subtle warmth. "I want a Daiquiri; take it to the in-pool chaise area. I will be there," he orders. "Oh, and I hope you don't throw some keys in it," he winks at you.

"You dislike rusty flavors, noticed, sir," you joke back, seizing the moment; a small smile forms on his lips, and you feel like you won a prize.

Oh, the view that greets you minutes later as you go to deliver him his drink is just too much for your poor heart.

Toto is sprawled on one of the pool's chaises, sunlight dancing on his skin. His fit body is covered in a sheen of sweat from the heat, his muscular physique in full glory for your eyes to enjoy, looking impossibly hot.

Under his sunglasses, he notices how your gaze goes all over him, his body getting you all distracted before he grabs his drink. "It's a good thing you didn't throw it all over me," he says, confusing you. "Watch your step."

He points with his head to your feet. You are standing at the very edge of the pool. One millimeter more, and you could have taken a good swim with him, embarrassing yourself as usual.

"Oh God," in that moment, you want to drown in the pool. "Sorry, I'm not, I..."

"Don't mind, you can leave," he says, and that's all.

There's no more Toto for you that day.

Is he always this cold?

You arrive home exhausted after today's work. The bar's closing always takes time, and it's late at night when you enter your aunt's apartment, where you two live.

She has already left for work.

She is a nurse and usually works the night shift, so you two see each other only occasionally, even if you share the same roof, just on weekends.

During the bus ride home, you made peace with the fact that you were going to bed with an empty stomach.

She left you a sticky yellow note on the fridge, letting you know she left food for you. God bless her heart! You felt too tired to cook.

As you microwave your dinner, Léo texts you.

Apparently, a kid threw up at the restaurant, and his father caused a big scene by calling the Chef and making him bring out the employee who cooked his son's meal to address him.

"You tried to poison my son! He screamed at me with a thick Australian accent. Can you believe the nerve?!"

Léo is 30 years old and works as a cook in the Yacht Club kitchen under a highly demanding Chef. He is as low-salary as you and middle class, too.

Because of that and many more things you share in common, you two were able to bond and become great friends.

Your aunt has always tried to play cupid with you two. She likes him and, well, you too, sort of.

He is a good person and good-looking, and according to everyone, he is also into you.

You would let him win your heart if he wasn't determined to move countries and leave as soon as he finishes studying his cuisine master's.

There is nothing that frightens you more in this world than the fear of someone leaving you because your parents did that to you.

Well, your dad was never present anyway.

And your mom was an irresponsible and immature mess with you. She even called you an "oopsie baby" to your face once while being exasperated with you, but it was the truth anyway.

She always blamed you for your father leaving and for stealing her youth, all that before she got sober and cleaned her act.

Now, she is the world's greatest mom to her kids, your stepbrothers. You don't see her much, and she still doesn't care much about you. Still, she calls you on your birthday and sends you money every once in a while.

God, you hate people who abandon and hurt.

So that's why you fear a relationship with Léo.

Paris is a goddamn expensive and challenging city to live and navigate, more so with a low income, so following him along is not within your reach.

But you really yearn for affection, a body to hold, for someone to touch you and make you feel special.

A boyfriend would be great.

As you lay in your bed, in the darkness, inside your small room, frustrated about not being able to fall asleep, you can't win the dirty thoughts running wild in your head as the night's warmth enters through the open window.

The light fabric curtains sway in the wind as the warm breeze caresses your thighs, and you succumb to the temptation you have been trying to resist for more than 20 minutes.

You spread your legs wider, feeling the soft cotton of your pajama bottoms rub against your sensitive spot. You start to slide a hand between your legs, with a finger teasing the skin under your panties, getting aroused.

You close your eyes and begin caressing your folds and picturing Toto's broad, sweaty, naked body approaching you at the bed.

You could almost hear his deep voice whispering, "You're so beautiful." His aftershave fills your nostrils as he leans in for a kiss.

His big hands gently part your legs, revealing your bare, moist pussy to him before placing himself on top of you in one of the villa's bedrooms.

You fantasize about being buried under his weight, lost in the sensation of Toto's fingers teasing and exploring your insides.

His soft, dirty whispers in your ear make you shiver, and you find yourself arching into his touch.

Back in real life, the sound of your shallow breaths fills the room as you dare to push an entire finger inside you all the way in while a soft moan escapes your lips as the scene in your head continues:

"Do you like that? Do you like me inside?" Toto asks, his voice low and husky.

"Yes, sir," you breathe, your hips bucking against his hand, willing and trembling.

As your finger moves faster, causing soaked sounds, your mind pictures Toto's intense gaze fixed on you; the thought of submitting to him, of being his completely, makes you quiver.

You feel the heat and wetness of your core and slide a second finger into you, eager for more.

The soft fabric of your bedsheets rubs your skin with the movement you produce on the mattress as you go all for it, reminding you of Toto's rough yet gentle grip.

"Tell me what you want," he says, working his hand faster between your legs, making you splash some drops of your wetness.

"I want you inside me," you beg, your voice barely above a whisper hidden below a moan.

You are all pink in the cheeks and sweaty, and a need to pee sensation starts building in you.

"And what do you think I should do about that?" he asks with a wicked grin.

"Please fuck me, sir; I need you inside me," you beg.

You close your eyes, lost in the dream, feeling as if he was entering you balls deep as you thrust your fingers as deep inside you as you can take them.

Your moans hitch as you start pulling them in and out of you as you picture Toto's hip movements till you reach climax, your body shuddering with pleasure, whetting your sheets all over.

The warmth spreads through your core and leaves you content and relaxed. You bite your lip, and you are now feeling embarrassed to face Toto tomorrow morning after this.

You clean yourself up and change your sheets, then fall asleep like a baby. Your best night of sleep in a long time.

OH, YEAH, SPRING BREAK IS OFFICIALLY HERE!

Which means no more classes, no more university, and no more annoying classmates. However, still lots of work to do at the Club.

You are all happy and peacefully cooking your breakfast with a lot of the extra time you have now on your hands.

Yesterday, Chloé authorized you to switch to the morning shift since college is on break.

She left you many tasks for the day in the digital agenda the Club gave you, which you are now reading as you enjoy your avocado toast.

You have to look extra lovely and put together this week because you will spend three entire days alongside Toto in the middle of the ocean since he got invited to Mr. Holst's extremely exclusive getaway at his gigantic and modern yacht that could easily fit a nation in there, along with other five old farts.

Two days later, you are getting ready to join the crew on board to help with everything Mr. Wolff needs and what the harbor crew, the dock master, the Chef, and the sailing master ask you to do.

It also means you must wear the sailing slut-ish uniforms, keep them pristine, look on point all the time, and avoid embarrassing yourself.

After brushing your teeth and doing your hair and makeup, you check yourself in your bedroom's oversized, full-length mirror, fixing every detail on your sailing uniform.

This one attracts much attention from people on the streets as you travel on the bus to work. Guys always send you dirty looks or discreetly stare you down.

Everyone finds it sexy, but not the Yacht's Controller, who always makes fun of it; he and his entire team nickname it "The Slut Navy Uniform."

It's a tight white long-sleeve button shirt with golden handcuffs and a v-neck cleavage, along with a French blue loosen kipper short tie and six golden buttons in the waist area to make it look smaller, with the Club's patched logo on the upper left side, and pair with a too short white knife pleated skirt that you always have to work around to avoid flashing the guests.

And to whose surprise, honestly?! Mr. Holst is quite sexist and still thinks his female staff must look pleasing to men's eyes.

You have a conflicted sentiment for him; sometimes, he is the nicest boss on earth, but he spans from that to a neurotic asshole.

He has a sweet, healthy, young-looking face for his age. Being a billionaire, having a plastic surgeon on call, and being chubby sure helps him with that, but he was definitely once good-looking.

His wife is way too hot for him, tho, and his three sons and heirs are also stunning but extremely posh, a bit deadpan, and out of touch.

They aren't that reachable, but you have a good relationship with them all.

You got hired to work there because your aunt was the nurse who helped him take care of his elderly mom for the last decade of her life.

The sun rises over the crystal-clear waters, reflecting on the luxurious yachts docked in the harbor as you walk along the pier, admiring the beautiful vessels.

"Here it comes, the Slut Navy!" the dockmaster yells at you from afar, greeting you and the other girls while joking around as there are no guests near.

He is a pretty quirky character, and you do a little dance in response, extending your arms and rocking your hips while reaching the edge of the pier, where he offers you a hand to board the yacht, along with the four other female coworkers.

You step onto the dock, feeling the cool wood beneath your feet, and take a deep breath to steady your nerves.

"Please don't break my ship," he jokes with you, double-checking on his list that you are part of today's crew. You are his favorite. That's why he is always teasing you.

"Girls, we have lots to prepare before guests arrive. I need you to split into teams. Let's go, people!" he stops fooling around and goes full business mode as he checks his Rolex Daytona.

On time as ever, the guests board the ship while you pour the cold iced tea into the glasses and help the Chef label which plate belongs to whom since one of the guests is allergic to cheese.

"SHIT!" you let out loud in the staff's kitchen, watching the clock on the wall. You were supposed to welcome Toto on the deck about 10 minutes ago. "Gotta go, guys."

You rush to place the last sticky notes with names frantically before exiting and climbing the metallic stairs to ground level fast to look for him.

You find Toto standing at the railing, his eyes scanning the water. You can't help but admire his tall, muscular frame and the way the sunlight glints off his hair.

There he is, the man you've been secretly fantasizing about, just a few feet away. With a sudden burst of courage, you clear your throat.

Toto turns towards you, his piercing eyes locking onto yours. You feel your cheeks heating up as you get closer.

He raises an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Ah, there you are, kid. I thought you had fallen overboard already since there was no one to welcome me," he replies, his voice deep and resonant.

"That's why you were looking at the water, right?" You try to beat with humor the slight reprimand you got. "What can I offer you, sir?" you quickly ask.

The yacht rocks gently under your feet, waves lapping against the hull as he gently brushes a strand of hair from your face. His touch sends shivers down your spine. "There, better," he says.

Your hair got a bit messed up from working like crazy. Seconds later, Mr. Holst reaches you two, which explains Toto's move.

Mr. Holst checks you out, expecting you to look perfect, as Ava, his stunning assistant and assigned crew lass, moves to stand beside you.

She is everything you want to achieve at work and excels at her job. Although Ava acts cold and diva to you and the other girls, feeling above you all.

"Hi," you greet the breathtaking young, fit woman, low and quickly, discreetly waving your hand at her.

She looks at you with the corner of her eyes. Her piercing blue eyes stay on you for a few seconds. Ava remains quiet and then moves her gaze back to the boss.

You wonder if the rumors of Mr. Holst and her are true; wait, that's misogynistic of you.

Well, you will keep trying to make friends with her. She has no friends here, and you don't like that. You can't cope with abandonment.

"Good morning, my friend. It's good to see you," Mr. Holst greets Toto warmly and squeezes his arm fondly. "We have some catching up to do," he notices Toto isn't holding a glass in his hand yet and addresses you. "Go bring him his beverage."

You were standing there like an idiot, staring at Toto shyly. "Oh, yes, sir, immediately."

"That wasn't necessary," Toto bumps Holst.

"I know, but she didn't get hired to act like a lampost," They both laugh.

"Is Y/N always that nervous and shy? Not the best traits working in hospitality, I must say." Toto asks.

"Really?! No, gosh, I wish she was. I would like her to contain herself more." Holst chuckles as some of your incidents come to his mind. "You want me to have a word with her?"

"No, no," Toto says.

Then, he is the one making you act like that?

The yacht's interior is even more luxurious than the outside, with plush carpets, gleaming marble surfaces, and intricate woodwork adorning every inch of space.

You wander through the spacious halls, attending to Toto's requests and admiring the paintings and sculptures lining the walls.

At the same time, you navigate the ship as you bring him the rye bread he requested to the long outdoor table on the bridge deck, where the brunch takes place. You face the mesmerizing view of Monaco's coastline as you step outside.

You place the plate in front of him and step back to your position behind him, at arm's reach, in case he needs something else.

You can't help but overhear the conversation and pay attention to his words.

"So, how is Irina? And your mom?" Mr. Holst addresses him, sitting at the head of the table and turning in Toto's way.

"Fine" is all Toto answers, deminors changing.

"Oh, okay, please, you don't say more," Mr. Holst jokes at Toto's lack of words; the Austrian chuckles.

The Chef then asks you by the open-ear bud headphones to bring out the sliced fruit dishes.

As all the staff heads back to the kitchen, Toto's eyes are drawn towards the action while the rest of the table doesn't bother paying attention.

When you are about to cross the massive slide door, a strong breeze comes your way. Toto gets to enjoy the view of your legs and ass on display as the wind pulls you a trick and raises your short skirt for a brief second before you rush to move your arm and hand to fix it.

He finds you so fascinating. The two of you couldn't be more opposite.

"Those are some cute lacey panties," he thinks.

As the day goes by without significant incidents, you start to feel more and more confident around Toto.

You stare at him for a while, driving the jet ski fast and wild on the waters, breaking waves and revolving, with a firm grip on the steering control and his delicious biceps flexing.

You are glad he has the life jacket on; otherwise, you be drooling. Then, the sailing master distracts you from him as he asks the guests to return on board.

The yacht will cruise to deeper waters so Mr. Holst can free dive.

You wait for Toto's arrival, holding the soft, high-quality towel while enjoying the view of a wet him up close as he climbs, dripping, on the swim platform.

He playfully sprinkles you with some drops with his hand as you come close to remove his life jacket.

"Hey!" you complain, smiling at him being an ass.

"Just a small taste of the fresh waters. I saw you looking over a lot, and I supposed you wanted to join me in the fun," he explains as he dries his hair with the towel, messing it up. "How do I look?" he jokes around. His wet hair is all up and wild, going in every direction.

You laugh and smile at the sight, "Like lighting is about to strike us."

He then combs his hair with his hand in a handsome man's move and drops the now-wet and heavy towel on your extended forearms. "I will be on the sun deck," he informs you and moves along.

Everything is going so well.

Toto sunbathes for a while and only asks you for one drink the entire time before he leaves to nap in his cabin.

So you move on to your other tasks as he isn't around but still keeping an eye on his call bell.

All until later, when you hear commotion on the main deck.

As you enter the living room area, you see Mr. Elrod, looking all red and swollen, sitting on one of the curved sofas as the aid crew offers him an EpiPen.

"Oh, no, no!" escapes your lips, watching the scene from afar as you feel the Chef and Mr. Holst's eyes set on you standing next to each other.

You sense Toto passing you around and standing by your side, observing the scene two steps behind you. The commotion woke him up.

Mr. Holst points you with his finger to the left, which means, "See you at my office now!"

Toto watches you release a loud sigh before moving your feet.

He waits for you outside the double wood doors of the office, sitting in the empty chair beside them, hearing the muffled screams from inside.

After a while, it quietens, and you finally emerge from inside, distressed and fast, trying to hold back tears.

You don't notice Toto.

You start heading to an empty place where you can cry in peace while avoiding being seen by guests.

Toto follows you all the way to the flying bridge, keeping a reasonable distance from you and trying to be discreet.

It's dark already, and the air feels chilly up there as the night fully sets.

He hears you weeping near the railing as you feel a jacket being placed on you.

"It's cold," Toto's deep voice says, making you jump.

You immediately wipe your tears, fix yourself, and turn to face him.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't notice you were here. I apologize."

God! Why did he have to be there and see you like this? You wanted to avoid getting into more trouble!

He notices your overly apologizing trait and feels slightly sorry for you. "I followed you here."

Your stupid mind takes another angle. "I'm so sorry if I didn't hear you calling me; how can I help you?"

He stares at you. "I meant it as I saw the entire thing with Mr. Elrod and then with Holst and followed you here from his office. He loses patience quickly but is a good-hearted man."

You nod, now getting it.

"Did you poison the allergic guy?" he asks, a small smile forming on his lips at the situation's absurdity as he listens to himself.

"Yes. I messed up the plate's labels all for being in a rush." You aren't in the mood to light things up with humor as you hold back tears again. "It won't happen again." Toto notices it; you gulp and look directly at him. "You don't have to worry about it, sir. I will pay extra care with your food and beverages."

"You think I'm here because I'm worried you'll get me poisoned?" his voice is serious.

You glance at him, confused and surprised.

What's going on?!

"Just talk to me. What's the reason for the tears?" Toto wipes the tear running down your cheek. "Without the sir bit, please, just Toto."

"Understood, si-r-Toto," you quickly answer. "Well, I-yeah, I feel like I'm not good at anything! I always screw things up. It doesn't matter how hard I try! It keeps happening to me, and they had enough of it."

"Did Holst threaten to fire you? I can always talk to him," he offers you, concerned.

"No, I'm getting a fine, a big one. I can barely afford it, but I can't lose this job either."

"And you told Holst that? That you needed the money? I don't know, maybe he could give you additional chores, or you could stay free for extra hours?"

"Yes, I tried, but he knows that's the one punishment that would make me not dare to commit the same mistake again. It's a bit cruel, but I'm used to it, I guess," you explain to him before you literally have a breakdown in front of him, much to Toto's surprise.

He holds you in his arms, trying to calm you down while a more violent and cold current hits both of your bodies.

You feel his thumb rubbing your back as you bury yourself in his warmness. His tender touch relaxes you so much that you start falling asleep, feeling exhausted.

He then notices you struggling to keep your eyes open and to remain on your feet as you lean more into him.

He lifts you from the ground with a firm grip and carries you around as you fall asleep on him.

He takes you downstairs through the empty hallways to his cabin, not knowing where yours is or how to get there, and softly places you in his bed.

He pulls your skirt in place, respecting you, even if he likes the idea of spooning you and feeling the lace of your cheeky panties with his fingers as his eyes go down your sound-asleep figure.

Toto hasn't fucked anyone in over five weeks, and the urge to do so starts building inside him.

But it's not proper to get involved with you.

The following day, he wakes up as the sun sneaks through the massive glass window of his bedroom, heating Toto's face; he then stretches and yawns before turning your way.

But you are already gone.

It's about 8 a.m., meaning breakfast is about to occur. Toto gets on his feet, feeling hungry already due to his CEO routine, usually waking up between 4:45 and 5:00 a.m. and eating breakfast early. But he has to remind himself he is on a break.

He spots you as soon as he arrives at the bridge deck.

You are wearing a uniform similar to yesterday's. A white button t-shirt with a v-neck, this time no tie, but today's blue A-line plated panel mini skirt with four golden buttons seemed in it looks so tight on your ass, which is anything but good for Toto's horniness as he feels the urge to pin you against the hallway wall and rub your asscheeks against his groin.

He notices the nervous energy among the staff members, hurrying to attend to his and the other guests' every need as they start to breakfast.

Your eyes dart at him in awe and fear after last night's events as you give out the glass bottles of sparkling water to everyone at the table.

Toto chuckles to himself, aware of the power he wields on you simply by his presence.

He looks at you with a cheeky grin and, on purpose, drops his fork.

The sound it makes when hitting the floor causes Mr. Holst to turn Toto's way and joke out loud. "It's alive! The fruit is alive!" he messes around.

"Y/N," Toto calls your name, a smirk already on his lips. "Would you mind picking it up for me?" he requests you in the sweetest tone in front of everyone.

"You little shit," you think, but you say, "Sure, sir," and struggle to get down to the floor in that fucking tight as hell mini skirt, trying to bend without your pussy greeting everyone.

He enjoys watching you try and struggle all the way down and is pretty surprised when you achieve it without revealing yourself.

"Let me get you a new one, SIR," you emphasize the last word while looking at him with murderous eyes as he laughs under his breath.

Once you are back and have handed him his new fork so he can resume enjoying his fruit, Toto grabs a strawberry with it and gets it in his mouth.

As soon as the fork makes contact with his lips, Toto feels them burning violently.

He turns your way, eyes wide open, and since you are just two steps behind him, you come closer to mutter near his ear, "Oopsie, I must have dropped it in the wasabi sauce."

After a long chat with the other guests about business, Toto excuses himself to get a shower.

He dismisses you and gifts you some free time before they dock in Eze Village.

He asks you to go get him in his room when they arrive.

Toto steps into the steaming water, letting it cascade over his muscular body. He closes his eyes, trying to clear his mind of the sudden life crisis that brought him here.

As he soaps up his body, he can't help but reach between his legs and begin to stroke his growing erection.

He could be fucking anyone instead of jerking himself off in the shower. After all, he is a handsome billionaire who can afford life's finest things but is stranded here with few options.

A slight smirk forms at the corner of his mouth as he thinks you would probably be more than happy to join and help him with this as he runs his hands over his well-defined abs and chest.

He pulls all of his strength not to call you in.

Instead, he focuses on pulling himself harder, faster, and more intensely as he gets lost in the moment.

"Ahh" he moans, arching his back as he feels the familiar tightening in his groin. His cock is as hard and curved as possible and bounces slightly with each move.

After minutes of going at it, he hears the soft and muffled knocks on the door.

It must be you, as he instructed you, obedient girl! He would reward you for good behavior if you were in there with him.

He rushes to pleasure himself, or otherwise, if he stops and steps out, after opening that door, he is going to fuck you right against it, not being able to contain himself.

His grip tightens on his shaft. He can feel the familiar tightness building in his balls, warning him of his impending release.

As he approaches his climax, he lets out a long, intense groan, his fingers founding the way on his throbbing cock.

With a deep breath, he allows himself to cum, feeling the warmth spreading through his body.

As his last drops of cum splash against the glass, Toto then opens his eyes, catching his breath, feeling refreshed and invigorated.

He cleans himself before quickly stepping out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist while he hears you knocking again.

He opens the door for you, still undressed, wet hair dripping on his bare chest.

You can't help but look surprised and get a notorious blush, trying to stop your eyes from going all over him.

"I'll be there in a minute, kid," he says, letting you peek at him before closing the door to your face.

Is this man sending you mixed signals, or are you going crazy?!

Much to his surprise, you remain on board the yacht doing other chores instead of joining him at Eze Village.

Ava stays in charge of Toto and Mr. Holst as they tour the small village; their first stop is the cigar store.

As they exit the shop after spending a couple of hundred, Toto notices the nearby street where many men wander around, going up or down a broad stone stair to a redwood door.

At 2:00 p.m., that place looks already buzzing, bright daylight still on the streets.

"That strip club is unbelievable," Holst whispers near his ear, noticing Toto's eyes wandering there. "It's pretty hidden and offers lots of privacy. That's why it's so popular amongst the elites, plus the girls in there, woaf." Holst throws a kiss in the air. "We should stop by after lunch, you know, as our dessert." Holst bumps him, and Toto nods, agreeing.

He very much needs it.

Everyone is back in the yacht at the time set. The night starry sky looks beautiful on board, and the waters are calm, but the crew isn't.

The guests look bored and a bit pissed off of waiting for Wolff and Holst; they are nowhere to be seen.

"Should we go look for them?" you ask, concerned for his wellbeing, you mean, their wellbeing.

"No one else gets off here," the sailing master declares after sending two male crew members after establishing contact with Ava; after four tries, she finally picks up the signal.

"We are on our way back," she updates him on the radio, sounding exasperated and a bit emotional. "Also, send Hob to receive us at the platform, but make it tactful."

Everyone in the crew looks at each other with a "Did something happen?" expression as they are all gathered around the radio in the small lobby of the crew's cabins.

"Walk," Hob tells you as he passes you by. Moving fast, you follow him without questioning much.

As you two reach the platform, you see Arvin and Hob teaming up to carry a totally hammered and passed-out Mr. Holst to get him to his suite.

And Carlo helping out a drunk but still awake Toto to walk him to his room, the Austrian hanging from his shoulder to help his balance.

Carlo signals you with his hand to move your ass to Toto's cabin.

"Pour him a tall glass of water," he asks you as he lowers Toto on his bed. "Stay in here if he needs something else or throws up."

"Puff, I'm fine!" Toto says, making fun of the large man as he tries to remove his shoes but fails completely.

Carlo exits the room and closes the door behind him, leaving you two alone.

"Do you need help with those?" you offer Toto, a bit amused. He looks way less intimidating when drunk.

He shakes his head way too much. Finally, he gets them out with much force, and one bounces around the carpet floor.

Then he attempts to unbutton his shirt. You watch him struggle with that until he gets exasperated, unable to coordinate his hand movements, and wants to sleep now.

"Would you mind?!" he looks pissed off at you as if it was a duty you were supposed to do.

You don't take it wrong and gladly reach out to help him get undressed.

Toto is sitting at the end of the bed. You stand between his slightly open legs, placing yourself between his knee. As you undo his shirt, he looks up at you, looking straight at your eyes, chin up.

Jesus! That smell! Why he smells like whore?

Which turns out to be a good thing; otherwise, you would have to resist the urge to throw yourself at him.

As you unbutton the remaining two lower ones, he says, "I picked the one who looked like you," and you have no idea what he is referring to.

He manages to take his pants off; good thing! You would have lost it! And then Toto drops himself face down on the mattress, quickly falling asleep in his trousers.

You place a pillow under his head and involuntarily comb his hair with your hand.

He wakes up to the vision of you sleeping all curled up in the armchair you dragged near his bed; a weird feeling washes him over before he rushes to pee.

Once back, he falls asleep again, and no human force will wake him up.

After tidying up the room and grabbing Toto's clothes from the floor to the laundry, you leave a hungover kit and a new glass of water on his bedside table before leaving.

Your list of things to do today is nuts.

That same morning, the Chef sends you to get more flour sacks.

When you open the big, heavy, metallic pantry door, you unexpectedly find Ava crying inside there under the bright light bulb.

"Oh, sorry," you quickly add. Ava immediately turns around and pretends she's looking for something, reading the labels on the cans before her.

You know a crying girl spot when you see it; unfortunately, you have used almost all of them.

"Are you okay?" you ask her, concerned.

"Yes, it's all good. I was looking for this!" Ava answers in her usual tone, picking up a random can.

"The anchovies got you emotional? Got it! I also got emotional in here once for a jar of mayo, and also when choosing which broom to use in the broom closet, and while folding napkins in the linen closet. I get it, girl." You confess to her all the places where you have cried in the yacht due to circumstances.

You make her smile a bit. "No, but seriously, are you okay?!" You ask and try again, sensing she opens up a bit.

Much to your surprise, she starts telling you: "I can't believe he did this to us!" in between cries. "This was supposed to be our gateway trip, not this!"

She sounds hurt. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure about what or who. Still, fuck them for hurting you!" you reassure her, trying to be empathic and supportive while also trying to figure it out.

"He and Wolff spent the entire afternoon inside that fucking strip club! Getting God knows what! I wasn't able to go inside; that stupid no women-allowed policy, you know, fuck them! And that fucking security guy even threw me out of the street, he made me leave, and I had to wait for them FOR HOURS!" now her sadness was starting to become anger.

"God! I looked like an idiot sitting for hours in that cafe at the corner, forced to ask for food or drinks every once in a while until I saw them pass by through the windows, looking like a mess, barely able to walk and holding rolls of euros in their hands! That's when I sent the signal!"

WAIT A MINUTE! Toto went to the strip club?! You feel a sting of pain and jealousy. Oh, that was the smell! You feel pissed off, with no right howsoever.

WAIT. Ava is referring to Mr. Holst?! Fuck!

Toto looks very comfy in one of the bulky sofas in the living room. This time, he is enjoying the inside of the yacht, staying away from the sun like a vampire, with his sunglasses on and a stern expression; his head must hurt.

You notice Toto's nasty hickeys on his neck in broad daylight as you approach to check on him, the ones that make your stomach revolve in jealousy as if you had the right to feel mad at him.

"I heard there are good natural remedies for hickeys. Maybe we have the ingredients on board. Would you like me to bring you one, sir?" you can't contain yourself.

He pays attention to your every expression. "Just Toto, remember? When it's just the two of us. And, yes, bring it."

You return with a peppermint oil mini jar on your hands. Toto stays there staring at you without reaching his hand.

What is he expecting?! For you to rub it on his neck?!" Yeah, you're mad.

Finally, he grabs it.

"Let me know if you need something else for other regions," he detects your displeased undertones.

"That's all. I don't need anything else for any other areas. Nothing happened in any other area," Toto hints to you.

"Understood, sir" you willinly ignore him, still giving him shit.

"Kid, are you allowed to go to Holst suite? Tell him if he will face me at the pool table or if he chickens out." Toto stands up and reaches you closer, his chest a centimeter away. Then he pats your head. "Be a nice pet, little one."

You stare, thirsting at his lips. Also, you want to strangle him! Also, he wants to strangle you, but in a different way.

As you are about to knock on Mr. Holst's suite's massive entrance door, you hear Ava's muffled, intense moans coming from inside while she groans to him to give her his dick harder.

Yeah... maybe later.

Damn, he must be fucking the "please, forgive me" out of her! Why is Toto not doing the same?!

You laugh at the thought.

"Mr. Holst isn't available right now," you inform him upon your return.

"Chicken!" Toto says, pouting.

More like "Cheater," you think. That guy has a wife and kids.

Toto ends up playing pool with two of the other male guests at the man cave, nicknamed "The Captain's Delight."

The room has rich, dark wood paneling and sleek silver accents. It smells of fine leather and cigars. At the center of the place sits a gorgeous pool table crafted from the finest materials, with an emerald green top and balls made from solid, gleaming ivory.

You call the bartender in and start helping him serve the drinks for Toto, Stellan, and Bram.

Stellan's eyes gleam with confidence and arrogance as he sips his drink and makes a ball hit the pocket with a loud crash.

Toto is a bit of a show-off, always trying to prove himself as the best player.

And Bram isn't much into the game as he can't help but steal glances at you, his eyes lingering on your curves every time he chalks up his cue, acting anything but discreet.

The bidding starts slow, but the stakes grow higher as the game heats up. The men raise their bets, and their voices grow louder and more aggressive as they argue over who made the best shot.

Bram eyes get bloodshot from too much drinking, and his speech gets slurred as the game progresses. Their competitive spirits fueling the intensity of the round.

Bram's eyes continue to go all over you, from your legs to your ass, where he keeps staring for more than you like and at your breasts every time he addresses you.

On any occasion you pass by near him, you hear him throw a dirty innuendo whisper really low, only for you to listen to it, which makes your skin crawl.

When he misses a hit, he gets angry and throws a fit.

As he remains out of the game, he asks you for a refill of his drink. As soon as you are back, he pulls you by the waist to sit you right next to him, forcing his hand behind you, making you feel really uneasy.

Toto notices it and quickly approaches you, sitting right by your side, with no inch of space between you, causing the other man to slide away casually.

Bram returns to the game as they start a new final round; another "all-in" bid is placed.

Stellan takes the price, being the best player of the night, much to the dislike of his peers.

Everyone calls it a night. But you stay in, tidying everything up and helping the bartender clean the bar.

He wishes you a good night, and you turn off the lights and exit the room minutes later. It's almost 3 a.m.

As you leave the man cave into the long, empty hallway that leads to the stairs, you notice from the corners of your eyes that Bram is leaning against the wall there, waiting for you.

You quicken your pace, but Bram follows you, his eyes fixed on you. "Hey, babe," he slurs, his voice growing louder. "You're really something special."

You try to ignore him, but Bram continues, his words getting more and more aggressive. "Come on, babe. Let's get you a drink. I have Tequila Ley in my cabin and have a great idea for a game."

But you are having none of it. You keep moving. The stairs aren't that far away now, but the hallways are empty and dark, making you feel nervous, as Bram is relentless.

As you reach the base of the stairs, he goes for your arm, feeling you are slipping away. He spins you around to face him, pushing you against the railing, which makes a loud sound.

He places his hands on your legs and rubs them up, starting to pull your skirt up as he slides them in while you panic, not knowing how to react.

"I heard a collision sound. All good?" a deep voice booms above you.

Bram looks up to see Toto's imposing figure with an enraged face and stabbing eyes, and he immediately yanks away from you.

You take advantage of the distraction to pull free and hurry away up the stairs to Toto. He watches Bram leave, heading back in the direction you were coming.

"Are you okay?" he asks you.

You nod, looking relieved. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for intervening."

Toto nods. "I noticed him creeping on you all night long; I was waiting for you in case he tried something stupid. I should have stayed in the hallway by the door and avoided you this."

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. You had previously dealt with similar situations, but this one went too far.

"Why don't we get some fresh air? You look like you could use it." Toto suggests, and both think of the same place to go: the flying bridge.

"Are you really okay?" Toto asks with concern etched on his face as he notices your eyes lost in the sea.

You are sitting at the edge of the wooden floor, shoulder to shoulder, with your legs hanging in the air and leaning on the railing as you admire the moon's glow reflecting on the waters.

Even with that beautiful landscape, you can't shake the memory of that creepy guy harassing you earlier.

Thank goodness Toto noticed how the man leered at you, making those crude comments under his breath.

God knows what could have happened if he hadn't stopped it before it went too far!

The incident left you with an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

"You know, if you want to explain to me what hap...," Toto starts saying, but his voice trails off as he looks into your eyes and sees the vulnerability.

He knows that he should keep things professional between you, but there is something about you that he can't resist.

He places his hand on top of yours, and the warmth of Toto's hand takes you out of your trance.

He can't help but lean in closer, your heart racing as you see him approach to rest his temple on yours.

You lean into the touch and wrap your arms around his waist, holding him tight, making you feel safe and protected.

Finally, you can't take it anymore and whisper: "I don't know what's happening between us, but I can't resist you anymore." you smile, your cheeks flushed, fresh tears drying. "But I want you, Toto," you confess.

He looks at you in total silence for what feels like an eternity, just looking at your eyes.

Before your lips meet in a tender, soft kiss that sends waves of electricity through your body, before you move your hands around Toto's neck, pulling yourself closer to his body as the kiss deepens.

The kiss grows hungrily, and you keep rubbing yourself against him until he wraps you around his waist and lifts you.

He leads you to his cabin, his footsteps echoing in the quiet space. As he closes the door behind you, a wave of nervous anticipation washes over you.

He looks straight at you, his eyes searching for any sign of hesitation. You look back at him, your gaze unflinching, and he knows then that you are ready before lowering you into his bed.

You glimpse at the bulge on his pants as he moves to place himself on top of you, parting your legs; you pull him closer once more, his lips finding yours as he undoes the buttons on your shirt, his fingertips grazing your bare skin.

You close your eyes, savoring his gentle touch, feeling his warmth and hardness.

He trails a line of kisses from your collarbone to your stomach, taking his time to explore every inch of you as his hands trace the curves of your body; slowly, he slides your skirt off and tosses it aside.

He leans in and places a soft kiss on your inner thighs, eliciting a gasp from you; he quickly removes his pants, not being able to contain his erection inside them anymore.

You stare at his dick shaft to the side, and it makes you get wetter with arousal.

Your breath hitches as Toto unclasps your bra, revealing your breasts and teasing your nipples with his fingertips until they harden under his touch.

His mind is whirling with desire for the beautiful young woman you are. He returns to his position between your legs and starts rocking his hips in circles, rubbing his erection on you.

You grab his ass and squeeze it, pulling him closer. "Toto..." you whisper, arching towards him. His tongue teases your earlobe, making you shiver.

"Do you really want this?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your answer comes in the form of a moan as you lean into him, your hands finding their way to his chest. "I've wanted this for days."

He then removes his trousers and, in a single move, pulls down your soaked panties before penetrating you slowly, feeling your body tense up at first but then slowly relax into him.

Your breaths become synchronized as you both sway together. Your moans fill the cabin, echoing off the wood-paneled walls as you enjoy his length inside you.

The feeling of being taken so roughly sends waves of ecstasy through your body. Toto runs his fingers through your hair, pulling it.

With each thrust, you can feel yourself falling deeper in love with Toto. For him, you taste sweet and innocent, yet wild and untamed at the same time.

He thrusts balls deep into you, taking you completely. Your bodies clasping together in a rhythm. Sweat dripping down as you desperately fuck each other. Your pussy clamps down around his cock, driving him crazy.

After a while of intense fucking, with a couple of final hits, you feel an orgasm releasing from you as you come all over his dick. He groans into your mouth, his hips bucking and his cock throbbing inside you.

Minutes later, Toto quickly pulls out in a fast move, removes his condom, and lets his cum spill over you.

You gasp in surprise but then moan as the warmth spreads across your sensitive skin.

He leans down and kisses you passionately, your tongues dancing together in the aftermath of intense lovemaking. You look completely satisfied.

"That was amazing," he whispers against your lips. You nestle closer to him, your breathing still ragged.

"No one has made me feel like this before," you murmur, tracing the head of his cock with your fingertips, caressing with your hand all over his chest, then kissing him for a while, tongues dancing, moist lips rubbing.

Then, you both get clean and return to bed, where you are about to spend the rest of the night embracing.

As you are comfortably wrapped naked in his arms while he tenderly runs his fingers on your lower back, Toto tells you: "I have been restraining myself from having you for days.

"Why?" curiosity is filling you.

"Because it seemed inappropriate, plus we couldn't be more different, starting for our ages. I could be your dad!"

"Daddy..." you sigh as you look straight into his eyes, moving your gaze away from his bare chest.

"Stop it," he lets out in a dangerously low voice.

"What? It turns you on? I wouldn't mind another round, daddy," You moan out the last word, being an ass and teasing him. "My shift starts in about 2 hours."

Suddenly, you feel his weight all over you as he, in a fast move, places on top of you, and you laugh. He starts kissing your neck and heading all the way down, biting every inch of your skin.

You release many "daddies" out as he devours your pussy and fucks you hard till the sun comes out. To be continued... < Masterlist | Next chapter >

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tf-lover · 2 months

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Masquerade Madness

A little fun organised by @bodyswapmischief, and one of the only celebrity tf's I'll probably ever write! Enjoy the masquerade!

~~~

The idea of a masked ball was, at least in theory, the type of event Henry should enjoy. He was a famous actor, used to being in the public eye and in front of a camera. Only, he was dreading it. His agent had signed him up to attend, and as much as he could put on the charismatic face for the press, half the time he would rather be at home than at another event. Reading, video games and even stuff like Warhammer, the star had always been a not so secret nerd. He always had eyes on him though no matter where he was or who he was with. As much as he loved his craft, it was times like this he felt like a break for a night.

That's where Kade came in. He often acted as security for Henry, so they knew each other well. For the last several years at various events and on the occasional filming set he'd been Henry's personal bodyguard; the two had become fast friends. Kade was the stereotype of the rough bodyguard too; bearded and tattooed with closely shaved hair, one look told you almost everything you needed to know.

“What I wouldn't do for a night off you know?” Henry said once he emerged from the bathroom after a shower. “Feels like I never get any time to myself anymore.”

Kade, who would be driving Henry to the event and accompanying him inside, nodded in agreement. “I know man, I get you. It's a hard job being loved and thirsted over by so many people.” There was a hint of teasing in Kade’s tone, one only he could get away with.

Henry rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the slight smirk on his lips. “Yeah yeah, I know. I'm thankful for everything I have, don't get me wrong. I just… I don't know.”

“Well, what if I said Henry Cavill can still show up at this event and you can take a bit of a break for the night?” Kade had a hint of mischief in his eyes when Henry turned to face him. “You don't get it, I know dude. New tech in the industry.”

“Out with it Kade, what on earth are you going on about?” Henry folded his arms and frowned, more confused than anything else.

Kade pulled a small circular device out of one of his pockets and held it up. It was no bigger than his palm and had what looked like a scanner of some sort on either side. Other than that though it was sleek high-tech, giving away no extra information on what its purpose was.

“Military tech they ended up not using and selling off. Was meant for covert undercover operations so I'm told. The two of us use this to switch bodies, then I go to the party as you and you can just chill at my side. How's that sound?”

Henry… didn't know what to make of that. It was absurd, it had to be. It was like the plot of one of the movies he'd find himself in, not real life. Yet, there was something in Kade’s eyes that said he wasn’t bullshitting. Henry knew Kade well enough to know when he was joking around, and this wasn’t even close to one of those times.

“I know it’s a lot to take in man, but think about it.” Kade said as the other man spent a moment processing the information. “You don't have to ‘turn on’ that public persona people expect and can just vibe as me. You know security at these things is airtight even without some of the personal guards like me there, you'll have it easy.”

Henry was silent another moment before responding. “You know what? Alright, let's try it.” He gave Kade a small smile before holding a hand out. “How does this work then? Do we just-”

Kade stepped closer and smacked the device he was holding down into Henry's outstretched palm before the celebrity could finish his sentence. A jolt passed through both as their hands came into contact with the plastic surface, now fully activated with two participants. In less time than it took either to blink, Henry and Kade found the world around them suddenly shifted. Where Henry had been standing in a bathrobe and mentally preparing himself for another evening at another public event, now he found himself looking back at that very same face. The one he was used to seeing in the mirror now stood opposite him with an uncharacteristic smirk.

“Having fun there Kade?” Henry said when he saw his own smirking face. The voice that came from his mouth being a different one was definitely odd, but seeing himself was moreso.

Kade in Henry’s body laughed. “I was going to say the same to you Kade, since I’m fairly sure I’m the world famous Mr Henry Cavill right now.” Kade turned back to the bathroom and went to the mirror, running his hands over his new face. He knew this one well of course from films and working with Henry, but he never believed he’d actually get a chance to see it looking back at him. “Man, every time I’ve done this and it’s still fucking wild.” He said to himself.

Henry had followed his own body to the bathroom and watched as his bodyguard inspected Henry’s own handsome features. The strong, stubbled jaw, piercing eyes and just the faintest hint of chest hair that poked out of the robe he’d been wearing after the shower. Like anyone, Henry could really understand why Kade was so fascinated with being one of the hottest actors on the planet.

“Oh, you probably haven’t noticed yet dude, have you?” Kade stepped back from the mirror and turned to face himself. “Something different you haven’t spotted, should have mentioned it before really but I didn’t want you to freak out about it.”

Henry frowned. He didn’t know what Kade was going on about, and he was on the verge of saying as much when Kade did something he didn’t expect. He pulled off the bathrobe and dropped it to the floor, letting Henry get a good look at his ripped, naked body in all its glory. His mouth went dry. Objectively he knew he was attractive, he always had since being in such a public position, but now he could really feel it. Kade’s familiar smirk was plastered now over Henry’s features as the man flexed and gave his chest a squeeze, all with a look in his eyes that said he knew exactly what he was doing.

“See, one thing they discovered is sexuality and attraction is mostly tied to your body.” Kade started to explain as he kept teasing and running his hands down over Henry’s hairy chest and stomach. “So right now you’re as gay as I usually am. Once you’ve been doing this long enough you learn to be able to ignore the physical sexuality, but for a newbie like you…” Kade’s eyes flicked down to the obviously hard bulge between Henry’s legs. “Sorry to say you’ll have to be alright relaxing as a gay dude today.”

“Y-Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be fine…” Henry mumbled whilst he couldn’t take his eyes off himself. “Guess I can see what everyone means for myself now. Are you always this attracted to me?”

Kade nodded. “Yeah, I mean who isn’t? But just like you don’t go getting hard over every attractive girl you see, it’s just the same.” He shrugged. “You learn to control yourself. Working with you is just business, not like I’m going to go over any boundaries that would be inappropriate.”

The mention of inappropriate boundaries sent other thoughts running through Henry’s mind. Thoughts of things he could do with men he’d never been interested in before, thoughts of things he could do with his own body. His cheeks flushed a brilliant pink for a moment before he shook his head; he had to get himself back under control. He was usually calm and collected, even if he was in Kade’s body and gay that didn’t give him an excuse to be ogling another man. Even if was technically his body he was getting an eyeful off and Kade was freely showing it off, it still didn’t feel appropriate.

“You should umm, get dressed Henry. You’ve got a party to get to, right?” Henry said in an attempt to deflect from the new stuff he was feeling. They’d made this swap for a reason, so he could have a night off and still make an appearance, so the sooner they got on with that the better. “Suit is in the bedroom.”

Kade let out a short laugh and a nod. “You’re right of course Kade. I’ll get myself dressed and ready to go, then you can drive me to the event okay?” Kade in Henry’s body turned and walked off in the direction he knew the actor’s bedroom was, all the while giving Henry a good long look at his muscular ass cheeks and how they flexed as he moved away.

~~~

It wasn’t long until the pair were ready and on their way to the party.

Kade had got all dressed up in Henry’s suit for the evening, including a custom made black mask by some designer he couldn’t remember the name of. He pulled the whole thing off well. Henry knew he would, after all he’d tried the whole outfit on days ago to make sure it all fit properly, but he hadn’t expected to be the one on this side of things. To be the one sat in the driver's seat of the car when he’d taken them both to the event.

Or to be the one trying not to look at how fucking hot hs own body looked in the suit his agent had picked out with the designers. Being gay because of the swap left him feeling all sorts of things, but chief among them was an undeniable attraction to himself. It was fucked up he knew that, but the drive over followed by silently following behind up the red carpet only hammered that nail down into the metaphorical coffin. Henry thought he was hot as fuck, just like many other gay fans had made clear, now he was almost one of them.

Kade didn’t make it any easier either. He showed just how good at his job he was as he smiled to the cameras, spoke to the occasional reporter and all round pulled off an incredibly convincing Henry Cavill. There were small things that only Henry could notice being off, but to anyone else they’d have no reason to believe he wasn’t himself as the pair made their way inside. And Henry really was getting a taste of the flip side of all this; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d walked down a red carpet and been as completely and utterly ignored as he was in Kade’s body. It was like he wasn’t even there. People moved around him like nothing, cameras flashed over his shoulders to capture anyone and everyone that wasn’t him; he was invisible.

The whole evening was more of the same for Henry. Or, for Kade as he made sure to introduce himself to a handful of the other security guards dotted around for other celebrities. It was strange at first, but the more he stood around chatting the more he felt like it was refreshing not to be recognised or idolised. He didn't have to “switch on” into his public facing actor mode like he'd been talking to Kade about earlier in the day, he could be his comfortable, relaxed self. All the while he watched from a distance as the real Kade in Henry's body danced and chatted and ate. All the things he should be doing but often found to be the exhausting part of being an actor.

“So, how are you finding things Kade? No issues with security?” The real Kade said later on in the evening when they got a spare moment together. Just a high profile celeb checking in with his security, that was all it looked like.

Henry nodded. “Yes Mr Cavill, all good on my end. I hope you’re having a pleasant evening?” It wasn’t hard to play the role of security guard for Henry, he was an actor after all.

“Yes yes, of course. All good fun events like these are, as you well know. And this suit is nice, makes me look good doesn’t it?” Something about the way Kade spoke with Henry’s voice was different to before. Lower, more heated. Maybe it was just to be heard over the crowd of people, but it didn’t feel like that quite. It felt like… more. “I’ve seen your eyes on me this evening Kade, and I want you to know I understand. Being so close can’t be easy on a night like tonight for you, if you catch my drift. One night, get it out of your system, if you think that would help?”

Henry couldn’t believe his ears. Kade, his long-term, always professional bodyguard, was suggesting something so… so sordid. This was a side of Kade he didn’t show for the sake of keeping to the job, but now something was crackling between them. Henry could feel it, a palpable tension in the air that he realised had probably been there since they first swapped earlier.

“You, You’re still gay, aren’t you.” Henry stated, since he already knew the answer. “You’ve done this enough that even in my body you’re still attracted to men… like I am right now as you.”

“That’s right Kade. As of this moment Henry Cavill is currently as gay as it gets, whether we’re talking about his body or his mind.” Kade said in that same low voice that Henry could now hear was dripping with arousal. Not one he ever imagined he’d be on this side of, or getting this turned on by either. “I get this is crossing a boundary between us, but I also get the sense that’s a boundary you’d rather like to cross right now, isn’t it?”

All Henry could do was silently nod his agreement. Since the swap earlier that evening he hadn’t been able to get it out of his mind. If he was a stronger person maybe he could have held back and kept things professional, but then wasn’t the whole reason he had agreed to this swap in the first place because he was tired of always having to put on the professional face? Always serving the public and never himself; maybe it was time that changed.

“Let’s get out of here Henry, I think for your safety you should let me take you home, there’s been a few suspicious characters at this party looking at you a little too closely for my liking.” Henry slipped himself back into the bodyguard role and smirked at Kade as he spoke; if this was his once chance to really experience this before it was over he wasn’t going to waste it.

~~~

An hour later, Henry was on his back getting his ass absolutely destroyed by his own cock.

“Yes, fuck me Henry!! Nnnghhh… oh fucking hell bro I never thought a celebrity could fuck so good!” Henry held onto Kade’s shoulders and let his moans freely fill the room, though right now it was hotter to imagine himself as Kade. To imagine for a moment that he wasn’t Henry Cavill having swapped bodies, he was this bodyguard finally getting fucked by the star he’d been protecting.

Kade, or Henry as he too found it hot to think of himself as, was much in the same boat. “Yeah Kade? Can’t believe I haven’t been fucking men until now, I’ve been missing out!” The current Henry shouted as he fucked down into the hole around his cock. He’d swapped with many celebrities in the past, but never had it landed him in an outcome as hot as this one. He was Henry fucking Cavill! The one and only, and with the former Henry getting so into addressing Kade by the name that matched his body it was easy to get lost in that fantasy.

The two kept going in that same rhythm long into the evening. Henry had fully embraced being Kade the bad boy bodyguard, so much so that when the former Kade above him moaned that name in his ear it didn’t feel at all wrong. It felt right. Liberating even. He wasn’t anyone in the public eye, he was someone completely invisible to them. And had one of the hottest celebrities on the planet cumming in his ass all night like an absolute beast. The new Henry had skills he never thought possible, the new Henry above him could do all the public stuff and fuck like the king Hollywood saw him as. It was giving him ideas already for their future…

~~~

2 years later…

Henry and Kade hadn’t looked back since that first swap.

The evening they spent together riding and sucking and fucking was one of the hottest either man had experienced. Enough so that the real Henry asked if Kade could make his body gay when they swapped back. He could, it turned out, leave his lingering sexuality in Henry’s body and corrupt it to be gay instead of straight.

Not that Henry spent a whole lot of time in his own body as it was anymore.

For filming and such he still stayed as himself, but that was about it. He still loved to act more than anything and didn’t want to give that up. But besides when he was on a job, Henry spent all his time as Kade instead. The name Henry had even started to feel slightly odd to him now he spent almost all his time as Kade the tattooed stud. It was far more relaxing than being his old self, and the pair made enough money to support them both just using Henry. The old Henry would do the acting, then the new permanent Henry would take over and spend the rest of the time doing all the publicity and stuff. Kade, as the former star now thought of himself, was more than happy to let his boyfriend take the spotlight when he was overall better at it than Kade had ever been.

The new and improved Henry had even gone to the lengths of coming out of the closet and introducing the world to his boyfriend Kade. If only they all knew the reality of the situation, but that was only for them. Henry Cavill, lost lusted after by gay men the world over, was now officially part of the gay community too, and it had sent fans into a frenzy.

Kade had got used to thinking of himself as a gay man now though. It was why he’d asked his boyfriend to make sure his old body was still gay when he used it for filming. Going back to being his old straight Henry Cavill self when he was filming had weirded him out for all of 48 hours before letting it get fixed up so he was gay regardless of which body he was in.

He loved his new easier life away from all the rapid publicity, and loved his soon to be husband even more for giving him this life accidentally. One last public affair to give the new Henry Cavill the proposal he deserved, then he would really be done with the exhausting side of his old life.

#MarchMasquerade #male transformation #body swap #my writing #straight to gay

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delzinrowe · 3 months

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They Find Your Toys [PART B] - HEADCANON

A/N: Without my laywer I won't say anything... WARNINGS: NSFW-ish. Some use of explicit words and scenarios. Nothing hardcore. F!Reader SUMMARY: Self-explanatory. Their reaction when they find your toys. [Established relationship]. INCLUDES: ☆ Choso, Gojo, Geto, Shoko, Nanami, Toji, Utahime, Yaga, Ijichi ☆ → PART A

CHOSO… For being the oldest in the entire bunch this 150 year old half curse has no idea what this palm sized thing is. Even the round opening with something that vaguely resembles a tongue gives him no clue. Being born out of the necessity of the evil guys didn’t really grant him much free time, or even a lot of access to the internet. He doesn’t even have a phone. He’s completely dumbfounded. Count on him to take your toy to Yuji and ask him for advice. After all it could be something medical, what if you were sick and this is part of your treatment? He doesn’t want to imagine you hiding something grave like a disease from him. Once Yuji turns into an embarrassed tomato in front of him Choso would realise that maybe this is something of the more private nature. Yuji would only stammer that he needs to talk to you directly about it, probably yelling at him to never ever come with something like that to him. The intimate adult toy of his half-curse brother’s girlfriend? Must like “How awkward do you want it to be? Yes.”

Either way, he’ll act according to Yuji’s advice and ask you straight up about it. He has to refrain from mentioning that your face turned the same shade as Yuji, he feels that if he confessed that Yuji knew about it as well you might get mad at him. And since he doesn’t mention it you sort of regain yourself quickly, explaining to him what exactly it is and how it’s used. If you think he’s weirded out, no. He’s not. He’s more curious than anything. He wants to learn, he wants to know what gets you going and what makes you lose your mind. He wants to be able to give you the most intense pleasure ever. He’s so willing to learn.

SATORU GOJO… Trust this big man child’s ego and pride to be wounded to the core. While he might entertain the fantasy of you using these toys and possibly even pleasure himself while doing so, he’s still butthurt over having a 20cm long battery operated competition. Needless to say, Satoru will immediately hide your toys, just so he can see you getting more and more frustrated when you can't find them and need that sweet relief. He’d be your hero in shining armour, or rather with an already shining tip. “You look like you could use some relief. I think I could help?”

BONUS: This man right here can be considerate and thoughtful at times. One of the times when he gets sent on missions, he comes up with an idea. Satoru would get you a whole dildo and toy set shaped after his penis and balls and probably even his abs, just because he’s confident enough for that. If his girlfriend uses a toy, it must at least be a replica of him.

SUGURU GETO… Now for this once I will go with him during his school time. Because if it happens afterwards when he turned his back on ‘monkeys’, then he might genuinely be mad at you for wasting money on ‘monkey’ toys, and letting it anywhere near you. However, his student self would most definitely blush. He’s mature alright, but that doesn’t mean that a teenage boy finding the adult toy of his teenage girlfriend wouldn't be absolutely dumbfounded at the discovery. Especially if your relationship hasn’t gotten physical or intimate yet. He’d subtly put it back where he found it. But if your relationship is already at that level, he’d most definitely bring it up. He’s not insecure in his own skills, and most definitely doesn’t feel threatened by the toy either, but he strives for open communication and better understanding. So he hopes that bringing this up will make you open up about your desires, so that he can help you with your pleasure.

SHOKO IEIRI… Oh gosh, Shoko can be a tease, and she’s big into giving you rules that you need to follow. One of said rules is not to touch yourself. You think you found a grey area when you let a toy touch you? Think again. Shoko is strict, she’d show no mercy when she punishes you for using toys without her permission. But you can’t complain too much when eventually the toy is part of your punishment. After all, no matter how strict she is, Shoko does love to pleasure you and make you scream for her until the neighbours file noise complaints.

KENTO NANAMI… He’s a mature one, therefore it wouldn’t be wrong to assume that maybe he was the one who even bought you the toy. He likes to give you gifts once in a while, it’s one of the many ways he shows love, since vocally he isn’t the most romantic. Romance and mental wellbeing, trust and love are just as important in a relationship as physical pleasure, he acknowledges that and treats you perfectly in every aspect. He might even use the toys during your nights together, making you effectively lose your goddamn mind when he thrusts into you while holding the vibrator in just the right angle to your clit. Kento Nanami knows what he’s doing.

He always. hits. the. spot.

TOJI FUSHIGURO… Toji would not let this slide. The moment he finds your toys it could go one of two ways. His ego would be heavily wounded knowing that you evidently still use your toys even though he’s such a sexy specimen. He’d wait for you to come home and instantly throw you on the bed and have his way with you. He’d pound you in every position and pleasure you until you’d be crying from overstimulation. He wouldn’t stop until you’re close to passing out. Only then he’d look at you with this smug shit-eating grin, telling you “I can’t believe you’d ever use toys when you got me, babe.”

However, there’s a possibility that instead of just having his way with you, he’d use your toys on you, for hours, until you beg for mercy. After which he smugly comments, “See, now that’s how you use toys properly.” Wherein he had a bruised ego at first, now he’s more than happy to keep the toys.

UTAHIME IORI… Considering Utahime operates from Kyoto, since she’s a teacher there, she’d be more than understanding in this situation. After all, when she visits you during the Good Will exchange event and finds your toy she can’t blame you. She’s got few of her own. Long distance is difficult when you don’t see each other, but her unexpected findings also open up new doors. Since now you two can pleasure each other on calls, each of you with your favourite toy while desperately moaning the other’s name until you reach your toe-curling, back-arching and overwhelming climax together.

MASAMICHI YAGA… He’s a little tricky, but in all honesty, he’d be as mature about it as Suguru. He doesn’t feel threatened at all. If he finds your toy during a time where both of you are really stressed and don’t have much time for each other then he might even feel relieved about it, considering it would reassure him that you’re not satisfying your needs elsewhere. No matter how strict and stoic he gives himself, deep within his chest is a soft heart that holds more love than anyone would know. Therefore he’s naturally prone to self doubts. He’s mature enough to bring up the topic, even if it makes you blush when you confess that sometimes when he’s busy you need to relieve your stress. But you can’t miss the smile on his face when you mention that you’re always thinking of him during those moments.

KIYOTAKA IJICHI… If you think for even a second that Ijichi wouldn’t blush to the extent of risking an aneurism you are dead wrong. This man, in all his adult glory, has barely ever had a girlfriend. He’s well aware of toys, he even has one or two toys for the male pleasure, but having a girlfriend that uses toys for her own pleasure? The mere thought of that is sending the blood in his body into two very specific places, mainly his cheeks and his genitals. But he would be entirely too embarrassed to ever bring it up. Even after months or years he would never mention how he found your toy that one day. God help this man, you’ll be the death of him.

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lamuradex · 6 days

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Alright, I am baffled by that episode. 73 Yards has me baffled (in a good way).

I not convinced The Woman was Old Ruby, but it also could be. Apparently the actress listed as The Woman doesn't exist, but it would be so simple to have her be played by the same woman as Old Ruby if that were the case. Or maybe she is? I dunno.

I'll repeat that, The Woman is played by someone who doesn't exist. She's played by Hillary Hobson, and there is no trace of her anywhere but this episode.

I have no clue what The Woman wanted. Was she stopping nuclear war? Was she making sure Ruby didn't stop it? What the freaking hell was she doing with her hands?

If we don't come back to all this later in the season, I'll riot.

We get a half a glimpse at The Woman's face when she turns around, but I can't tell if she looks like Old Ruby.

She is wearing Old Ruby's ring.

But why is she wearing a completely different outfit!!! What's with the long scraggly hair!!!

I think we're now operating on both timelines at once? Maybe? Ruby partially remembers, saying she's been to Wales three times.

Was that politician guy Mad Jack? Did they set him free? Is he a problem in the new timeline? The Doctor still mentions him.

WHAT DID THE WOMAN SAY TO MAKE EVERYONE SO SCARED!!! WHAT WAS WITH THE HAND GESTURES!!!

Seriously, if we don't get some answers later, I'll be furious.

At the same time, I'd respect the balls it took to make this.

Anyway, I loved it. One of the tensest, most anxiety inducing episodes in a while. And proof Ruby can carry an episode.

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #73 yards

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white-poppie · 7 months

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Healing ★ ft. jjk men (Geto, Gojo, Nanami, Toji)

synopsis: how the jjk men help you heal from your fears and worries

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

The way your heart jumps to your throat at Geto-sama cursing out some damn 'monkey' is almost pitiful. Its cruel, the way he is gritting his teeth, the way his voice booms in the echoing chambers

Suguru's rage, its not even directed at you. But his voice is a bit too loud for your liking. Till it overpowers any other voice in your surroundings and sends your mind into an overdrive.

A numbing buzz echoes in the cortex of your brain and you feel a familiar heat behind your eyes.

It claws at you, your bottom lip trembling in the storm you get caught until a soft warmth holds your shoulders.

You look in front, met by scrunched eyebrows, that furrow in concern, pale lips parted in concern.

"Angel?" the storm says, his breath caught in his lungs. But he's cruel alright? Relentless, but the storm calms. He turns into soft gusts around you. Suguru cups your face in his hands, thumb caressing the apple of your cheeks.

"You okay?" he asks quietly and you nod softly.

"What happened? You zoned for quite a bit there, scared me there, angel."

""s nothing, I just got a little startled when you...spoke a little loudly." you say and his eyes soften, pale lips pressing on your temple.

"Sorry angel, I should've been more careful around you, it's my fault, but you gotta know my anger could never be directed towards you," he murmurs, brushing his hand through your hair.

A storm indeed, but Suguru is your breeze on an autumn afternoon.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

You listen intently to Satoru as you both sit on the dinner table. He goes on about his day, the way he was a pain in the ass for the higher-ups again. You chuckle and take a sip from the glass next to your plate, but your fingers lose their grip on the glass as it falls down, shards scattering on the marbled floor. Your eyes widen and silence crashes down in the living area, your breathing fastens and you don't even dare look back at Gojo.

"I am sorry- I am so sorry, I'll clean it up." You say letting out a rictus laugh as you lean down to haphazardly pick up the glass shards, your hands trembling like having just come from the shower on a winter day.

Bending down you pick up the shards with your bare fingers and Satoru's eyebrows furrow at your behaviour.

"Y/N, sweetheart you are gonna prick yourself with those shards." He says but his words cease to travel the vacuum you have built around yourself.

Gojo kneels to your level and grabs your wrist, feeling your erratic pulse under his fingers, the shiver of your limbs, you look similar to a dog under a firework show and his chest hurts.

"Sweetheart relax, you'll hurt yourself," he says softly, terrified, even more than you possibly. He is so scared of scaring you. He is so scared of making it worse. You take in a sharp breath and nod lightly.

"Let me get the dust-pan and broom this," he whisper softly, leaving you between the constellation of the shards, your thoughts, coiled into an unforgiving a ball, only broken when he walks back, kneeling beside you, gently dusting the pieces into the pan as he looks at you with a smile.

"There, all done," he says and searches into your eyes for a reaction. The faint cinkle in them shouts, 'you are not mad at me?' It’s so obvious from the watery look on your face.

“I am not mad, sweetheart, I could never be mad at you” He affirms and smiles. His hands, move to brush your hair gently, reaffirming it.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

You hate this. You hate how stupid this scanning ticket-check system makes you feel. It makes you feel like a boomer, a hobo if you might as you struggle with getting the scan done. Its not even then fact you can't operate it. You can easily operate it, but there's people behind you, waiting, groaning all the the while your hands tremble in mortification.

Beep. Denied

Beep. Denied.

Beep. Denied again

It was never ending, the machine kept on denying your effort and you could swear you heard someone in the line behind you groan.

"Here, let me," a voice interjects and you look up at Nanami, his eyes softening at the sight of your flushed face as he gently takes the ticket from you and gets it scanned...oh so it was this way. You feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment, wanting to cry out of anxiety.

You feel Nanami's arm against your lower back as it curls around your waist, walking a few steps ahead with you, his embrace blocking any extraneous factors that trouble you.

"You okay, love?" he inquires softly, his thumb rubbing circles on your spine.

"I feel stuped Ken'" you mumble your voice cracking.

“You are one of the smartest people I know, y/n” he coos slightly, “you just got overwhelmed, even the best of us get overwhelmed sometimes and that’s alright.” He says, caressing your shoulder gently.

“There’s a lot of things you can do that I can’t.”

“Like?”

“Hmmm….like being this effortlessly cute all the time.” He chuckles and kisses your forehead.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

Toji Fushiguro was one of those men who had not an ounce of gentleness in them. Those hunter eyes of his that never softened at anything. Its not his fault, its just the way he looks. He can't help it.

The thing about Toji is that he snores while sleeping and yet somehow even with those deep snores, his sleep is restless.

So when he grumbles and opens his eyes to your dry sobs, scrunched eyebrows and spasmodic body. He jolts awaken.

The thing with Toji is that he hates his sleep being disturbed, but what he hates even more is seeing you in despair, seeing you suffer like that.

"Y/N, wake up, you are having a nightmare," he says, softly nudging you with his scarred hands. You jolt awake and turn to him, your eyes blurry, your cheeks wet, and your lips parted for an aborted sob.

Toji's heart drops to his stomach at the visual. He sits up straight and his arms instantly come up to pull you to his chest.

"Ssh, what did you dream about baby?" he asks, letting you nuzzle into him and get comfortable as his hands softly caress your back, his warm palm running up and down, heating your cold body.

You sigh against his chest and shake your head, "Just had a dream that you left me..." You say and he sighs, resting his chin on your head

"Such stupid dreams my baby has," he says calmly, his deep voice rumbling in a low purr. "How could I ever leave you?"

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— JUJUTSU KAISEN - Fanfictions

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﹒ Taglist (lmk in the comments in case you wanna be added and the link doesn't work!)

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 3 months

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I was wondering at what point do you think the Sussex’s reached the point of no return, and when the actually penny dropped for H and M (actually do you think he realises that somethings are literally unforgivable even now.) Obviously we probably know a small fraction of what was happening behind the scenes, and the beloved son making a new life is studiously polite, even if many think KC3 would have his son back in an instant.

So it's a few things for me. I think the Oprah interview and Philip's funeral got the ball rolling; the Platinum Jubilee was the "make or break" moment; and The Queen's funeral was when the penny dropped.

Here's the long version...

First, the Oprah interview and Philip's passing/funeral. Here's a super quick timeline of what happened:

2/16/21: Philip enters hospital to receive treatment for an infection.

2/20/21: Charles is papped leaving Philip's hospital looking upset and very emotional.

2/28/21: First promotions of the Sussexes' interview with Oprah debut in the US.

3/1/21: Philip is transferred to a different hospital to receive treatment for his heart condition. Paparazzi photos of him being transferred via ambulance are published, immediate criticism.

3/3/21: Philip has a heart operation. Palace says it went well.

3/5/21: Philip goes back to the first hospital. Meghan tells people she thinks the palace is making up or using Philip's health to silence them and keep them from releasing the Oprah interview.

3/7/21: Oprah interview broadcasts in the US.

3/8/21: Commonwealth Day Service; Oprah releases new clips cut from the final edit of the broadcast; the interview is broadcast in the UK.

(This is just a small piece of what was happening in those days. There was a ton of other stuff going on too.)

I think Meghan leaking to her friends, who talked to reporters, that they don't think Philip is as ill as the Palace reports was the beginning of the end for them. Okay, so maybe the palace wasn't keeping Harry fully updated on everything that was happening as it happened, but the signs were all there that it was a serious hospitalization.

(And I do believe that that leak about Philip's health is why Harry flew immediately to Charles after the King's cancer diagnosis. Karma served him hard with their public on-the-record denials of how ill Philip and The Queen were so now Harry wanted to do the right thing and go see for himself what was really happen.)

Then there's the whole Oprah interview altogether, which many in the firm - family members and courtiers alike - didn't receive well. Using today's measure of "Piers is what Camilla thinks," then if he was hopping mad over it, then she and the family were hopping mad.

Then Philip died and the way the Sussexes behaved - among them: Harry preempting much of the family with his statement about Philip, Harry's demand to wear his uniform, Harry dicking up the procession, Meghan telling everyone the flowers on Philip's casket were from her, Harry allegedly confronting William and Kate about the Oprah interview, the Sussexes using the family walk for olive branch PR, and (if Harry is to be believed) the Harry-Charles-William peace summit in the Frogmore gardens after the funeral - was the final nail in the coffin about what privileges or support the Sussexes would get from the BRF.

Especially when you consider that on February 19, 2021, the Palace announced that the Sussexes had declined to return and the one-year trial/review was terminated as of March 31st. So on April 9th when Philip passed away and the Sussexes began asserting precedence and privilege, they had no right to any of it. They were non-working royals, bottom of the totem pole.

(Then seven weeks later was the whole Lilibet fiasco and we all know how that went.)

I think the Sussexes' behavior and attitude around Philip's funeral, plus the Lilibet debacle (which we didn't fully learn about until after The Queen passed) directly led to certain decisions for the Platinum Jubilee, which became the "make or break" moment for everyone, not just the Sussexes.

The Sussexes saw the Platinum Jubilee as their chance to relaunch and rebrand as royals because they needed the royal glow to make their soon-to-be-released projects successful and well-received. The firm saw the Platinum Jubilee as a chance to rein the Sussexes in to their new status as "family members" vs "royals."

And, well, we know what happened at the Platinum Jubilee:

The Sussexes were kept away from the Cambridge family.

They weren't allowed in the Trooping carriages and the Trooping balcony.

They weren't invited to the Trooping rooftop party with the rest of the family or to the cousins' lunch afterwards.

They were scheduled to take the "Minor Royals Motorcoach" to the service of thanksgiving.

They were booed on arrival (and departure) at the service of thanksgiving.

They weren't included in the official procession with Charles and the Cambridges.

They were seated on the other side away from the working royals and demoted to the inside of the second or third row "after" Beatrice and Eugenie, instead of being on the aisle.

They were not invited to the post-service of thanksgiving guildhall reception/luncheon and had to do the walk of shame to the car by themselves. (Hence the boos.)

No one went to Lili's birthday party.

Meghan didn't get her "Lili meets Lili" picture with The Queen and Lili.

The Sussexes knew it was game over for them from there. The Platinum Jubilee wasn't the "make it" moment they needed and they didn't get anything they wanted. We know they got nothing they wanted because they threw a hissy fit and left early than planned, suggesting they felt very snubbed.

So I think that was the point of no return as far as the firm was concerned - if the Sussexes could behave themselves at the jubilee and the public was accepting of their presence, then the firm could've worked with them. But the Sussexes didn't behave (Meghan's photo stunt with Peter and Zara's girls, missing their pick-up for the service of thanksgiving, and Meghan's stunt rolling down the car window after a whole fuss about security) and the public made their feelings very, very clear.

I think the Sussexes were probably in denial with how badly the jubilee went, and that's why the interviews Meghan did later that summer were bitter and venomous towards the royal family. I also think the way they were treated at the jubilee weekend also informed some of the things they did and said in the Netflix docuseries as well.

So while the Sussexes were fully aware that they were out after the jubilee (I don't remember now who said it, but there's the famous quote "You never really know if you're in with the royal family, but if you're out, you definitely know") I don't think they understood the impact of what being "out" meant, though. I think they thought they could continue using the BRF for PR as they always did and that The Queen/Charles would always welcome them back with open arms because that's what they always did.

Which is what led to the penny dropping with The Queen's passing and funeral. It's clear that Harry thought he'd be given precedence and priority as The King's Son. which didn't happen. He made demands for it, still didn't happen. He tried to take it by force with the Netflix walkabout, still didn't happen. He caused a PR ruckus to get the public to demand it, it still didn't happen.

I do fully believe Harry was grieving at The Queen's funeral and her committal service. But I believe he was grieving the loss of his royal status a bit more than the loss of his grandmother that day, judging by his body language throughout the day. He knew it was all over then and there, and that bitterness came through in his interviews for Spare, when he demanded that the BRF needed to apologize first and his "they know what they did" comments.

I kind of feel like Harry saw the coronation as a test, where he felt "If I go and they treat me well, it'll all be fine but if I go and they treat me horribly, I'm never coming back again." And, well, the latter happened and he went straight from Westminster Abbey to the airport to go home, which was as big a tantrum as the one they pitched at the jubilee to leave early. And if Charles hadn't announced his cancer diagnosis, or if he didn't have cancer at all, I feel pretty confident saying we wouldn't have seen Harry in London until the May service of thanksgiving for Invictus Games.

#ask #brf #sussexes #in this essay i will

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fatuismooches · 8 months

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Ohhhh vulnurable Dottore 😶 What if this is a moment when he realises he can't heal us? He's trying and trying and trying, using all accessible methods (smt questionable and anti-sciense) but n o t h i n g works, there is no way to make us feeling better. And a new reality breaks him down, this is his breaking point.

But you're a sweet, lovely soul, you understand everything and never blame him for failures. When he's crying all you can do is holding and kissing him.

(uhhh finally I'm brave enough to reveal myself haha 😬 I was that anon with several Pantalone's hcs about him speaking French and a reader changing their ring to simple one 🙈)

The crashes that came from Dottore's private lab were so loud it probably echoed throughout the entirety of the whole research building. And it wasn't the sound of an experiment gone wrong exploding, or something fell down by accident, or perhaps some screaming, no. It sounded like something was being forcefully destroyed, on purpose too at least with how much crashing and banging there was. And you just had a horrible feeling about it.

You were right.

You didn't even bother knocking on the door, instead just shoving it open before you called out his name, although you cut yourself off when you saw the state his lab was in. It was a dreadful mess. There wasn't one thing that hadn't faced his frightening strength. The desk and bookshelves had tumbled to the ground, the chairs had been snapped in half... somehow, but considering his power that shouldn't be surprising. Even the operating tables were damaged, glass on the floor from the breaking of his tools and capsules. On the floor, you could read all of the documents scattered around, at least the ones that weren't torn to shreds. The books from the toppled bookshelf? All dedicated journals to your condition over the years. The photos on the floor? Pictures of your body, internally and externally. The random bottles on the floor? Prototype medicines that didn't work with your body. And all at the center of it was your husband. Dottore. Or rather Zandik, as you called him when it was just the two of you. His back was turned to you as he didn't seem to acknowledge the mess around him or even you. You slowly walked towards him, your heart already hurting as you were pretty sure you knew what this was all about.

"Zandik, look at me, please." Dottore's fingers twitched at your words, but then he balled them up, not able to bring himself to face you. You had no choice but to walk in front of him instead. "Zandik, I-" you paused abruptly when you saw his face. Zandik was crying.

He was like a statue. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He didn't sob. He merely looked at you, tears gliding down his cheeks completely unmoving and expressionless. You were speechless. In all your centuries of being with Dottore, you had never seen him cry. You've seen him genuinely happy, genuinely mad, genuinely sad - but never any tears, not even remotely. But here he was crying in front of you anyway... because of you.

The state his office was in was surely no state for you to comfort him, not with the chairs and desks toppled and in shambles... so you silently took his balled hand in yours and peeled away his fingers, allowing you to hold his hand. You led him to his own room (which was connected to his own lab, you know he can't be separated from his research) and he followed you, this time not putting up a fight. You two sat down on his bed and you immediately pulled him against your chest, holding him. Dottore remained unmoving for a bit, until he reciprocated and wrapped his arms around you carefully, as if you would disappear at any second. It was a very silent moment, as neither of you said anything for a long time. And well... it was kind of a learning experience for you too. You couldn't do much besides this but... you hoped it helped. But you needed to say something too...

"Zandik," you murmured, pulling him away from your chest which was only damp now, it seemed like he stopped crying a while ago. Though he still had that empty expression on his face. You reached to take off his mask but his arm quickly grabbed yours before you could even touch it. Ah, of course, he didn't want you to see him. He didn't even want you to know about this in the first place, probably. But that simply wouldn't do. "Zandik," you repeated again, "let me see you. Please," your fingers glossed over his cheek tenderly. "It's only me here, you know," the metal of your wedding ring felt cold against his skin, "And I'm not going to give up or leave, love." You hoped the look in your eyes read - it's okay to be vulnerable, Zandik. Please just be you when you're with me. The Harbinger gritted his teeth and held your waiting arm a little harder, as your other one came to cup his cheek. It wasn't easy to break him down, but eventually, he reluctantly let you go.

You took the mask off and set it to the side, focusing on your lover's expression. His eyes always told so much. And this time, they looked very, very tired. Though even still, his gaze was cast off to the side. But, this time you wouldn't force him. Dottore still acted high and mighty even in his lesser moments. He didn't like being seen like this. He was supposed to be the Doctor, the one who controls the game and has all the power. Not a vulnerable boy who was the opposite, who could have anything in the world except this one thing - your cure.

"It's alright," you whispered, kissing his forehead. "I'm alright." You kissed the corners of his eyes this time, a tiny bit red from crying. "Okay?" This time you went for his lips, and although he took a few seconds to reciprocate, he slowly kissed you back. As if he would never be able to kiss you again, neither of you let go. "There's no need to worry, I'm here," you combed your fingers through his hair. "I know that no matter what happens, I'll be next to you. I love you." Dottore didn't respond nor did he look at you. But he heard it. And he crept his hand under your shirt as he placed his fingers above your heart, counting the beats. His way of reassuring himself you were still alive. And for now, that was enough.

A part of you wanted to apologize. Apologize for putting this burden on him. If only you... were not you. If you could be someone else, then Dottore wouldn't have to invest so much into you. You know he loves and adores you how you are but- you know it's not the time to go down into those thoughts. Instead, all you need to do right now is comfort your beloved. Make him know that you see him. You love him. You accept him. You believe in him. And that regardless of all the failures he may endure, nothing would ever make you love him any less.

...

UM HI HELLO. Thank for this idea omggg i went through all stages of pain 😭 AND YOU WROTE THOSE OTHER HCS TOO?? Gosh you have such *chef's kiss* amazing ideas I LOVE THEM !!

#smooches talks #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #this fucked me up but in a good way thank youuu 😭 (i'm crying)

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rel312 · 10 months

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I HAD NO IDEA SEASON 2 CAME OUT ALREADY SO NOW IM GOING TO SCREAM ABOUT IT

Episode 1:

CROWLEY WANTED TO TAKE AZIRAPHALE BACK TO THE PLACE THEY FIRST MET

CROWLEY PROTECTED AZIRAPHALE FIRST IM SCREAMING

(My brother actually came into my room to tell me to shut up)

Of course Aziraphale would just forgive 8 months rent

Lmao Gabriel’s just walking down the street ass naked

Gabriel just hugged Aziraphale I can’t

“James. Long for Jim, short for Gabriel”

Crowley knows Aziraphale so well, but poor guy he only calls him for 3 reasons

Poor Crowley is trying so hard not to freak out about the “naked man friend”

The conversation between Crowley and Jim I can’t

Maggie and Nina are trapped together!!

Michael and Uriel are fighting let’s gooo

Crowley just casually let the girls out lmao

THERES AN I WAS WRONG DANCE OH MY GOD

THEYRE PERFORMING A MIRACLE TOGETHER

Aaaaaand of course it goes immediately wrong

Episode 2:

Gabriel’s wig is atrocious

IS AZIRAPHALE GOING TO BE THE SUPREME ARCHANGEL NOW

A jukebox that turns every song into Everyday like the Bentley with Queen, hmmm….

Crowley looks like a doting partner bringing his husband a drink

“Get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes, vavoom, sorted” sir… are you telling me that’s what did it for you???

Crowley’s so confounded that Jane Austen wrote books

THE VOICE OF GOD???

HE TURNED ALL THE GOATS INTO BIRDS

Crowley scaring the kids cause they were brats but not actually killing them aww

The little girl asking to be a blue lizard with her siblings she’s so cute

CROWLEY TAUGHT AZIRAPHALE TO EAT

I cannot believe Aziraphale was the first to talk about sides I love them

Crowley and Aziraphale working together for the first time to save the kids

Aziraphale looks so shaken to have lied poor baby

Crowley babe he’s begging for you to drive him

“Our car” you can’t take it that far lol

Poor Aziraphale really thought he was gonna fall he was about to cry

Crowley was so soft in that last scene

Episode 3:

Jim’s stuff is all labeled

Aziraphale looks like a proud father to Muriel

Crowley’s moving the plants to use the car

They both look like parents I love them

Crowley brought Aziraphale to a cemetery because he thought it would amuse him, that is date behavior

Crowley is about to kill Aziraphale for changing his car

NESSIE?!?!

“Operation: Lovebirds” Crowley is such a dork

Aziraphale just is not getting anything lol

Crowley… shrunk himself??? And then grew himself????

Crowley tempted her to be good I love him

I love the very closed sign

Demons can’t enter somewhere uninvited???

He’s so angry Aziraphale might be hurt

Episode 4:

BEEBOP

“His type”????

“I remember hearing that you and Crowley were an item” HOLY SHIT

HE CALLED CROWLEY HIS GOOD FRIEND AFTER THE CHURCH!!!

“This office has gone 13 5 0 days without anyone saying ‘THE ROAD TO HELL IS PAVED’”

Glad to see Aziraphale in his magic era

Crowley’s impression is hilarious

“Someone you can really trust” and his first thought is Crowley 🥹

Aziraphale has a gun and Crowley has never shot one

Crowley was shaking he was so scared and Aziraphale was so proud of his trick

Furfur not knowing how to pronounce Aziraphale lmao

Sleight of hand!

Look at them finding a middle ground in shades of grey!

Lmao Crowley would murder him if he knew Aziraphale didn’t put the brakes

Episode 5:

They’re talking about Doctor Who

Aziraphale’s giving books and Crowley’s playing with crystal balls, I love them

Aziraphale being bad at French is so funny to me

Nina grilling Crowley on his relationship with Aziraphale is everything

Crowley was confronted with his feelings and immediately went out to get a drink with Aziraphale

Crowley’s so mad go off king

The matchbox!

Aww look at Crowley denying he’s nice

The romantic music while Crowley looks at Aziraphale with the chandelier

Oh. My. GOD. Jim’s suit!

Lol that’s not what I was expecting when they said masks will be provided

AZIRAPHALE WANTS TO DANCE WITH CROWLEY

THEYRE DANCING!!!!!!

“Surrender the angle”

Gabriel’s coat!!

“T. O. S. T. E.”

“You’re a good lad” “not actually, either”

“Rescuing me makes him so happy” you can’t just say things like that and expect me to be normal about it

Episode 6:

Crowley’s just bouncing around in heaven

“I’m done with being scared” *flips them the bird*

Oh sweetie, you meant well but no

“Crowley’s emotional support angel” yes, yes that’s exactly what he is

Crowley’s little supportive punch to Muriel was so cute

AZIRAPHALES HALO?!?!

THE FLY

Gabriel x Beelzebub confirmed??

The fact that Gabriel and Beelzebub were able to sort this out in a few years while it’s taken Crowley and Aziraphale 6000 is insane

And the fact that Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s arm when he realized that

Crowley’s so impressed with Aziraphale bringing everyone to order

Aziraphale’s face at Crowley talking about Alpha Centauri

Aziraphale looking at Crowley with so much love in his eyes is giving me life

THE METATRON?!?!

Aziraphale looking to Crowley for permission I can’t

Crowley knowing Aziraphale will come back and saying they need “a little us time” at the Ritz

Crowley getting antsy that Aziraphale’s not back yet

Nina taking inspiration from Crowley and calling Maggie angel my beloved

Crowley looks devastated that Aziraphale interrupted him

Aziraphale looks so incredibly happy at getting Crowley to be an angel again but there’s no way Crowley wants that

Crowley’s getting so emotional

“Just be an us” stooooopppppp

“I need you” I can’t take this!

Nightingales

THEY KISSED!!!!!!!!!

Aziraphale touched his lips after I’m dying

Aziraphale stop being so stupid and get him back

The- the second coming??

YOU CANNOT END IT HERE

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

Please tell me there will be a season 3 I can’t handle this

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marinetteplztakeabreak · 10 months

Text

The arc with the resistance in ml season five???? Is so good????????????? The way that???? Its been going on low-key for a while????? But theres this Massive Shift this season where literally the entire miracuclass stops running away from akumas or hiding???? And its like???? The fear is GONE by the end of the season???? Theyre not scared anymore theyre just pissed off????? At the system???? Not at the akumatized victims???? But also its not a “babying the akumas” thing either like when gabe is akumatized theyre like “WRONG BAD” at him????? Same with chloé???? But like the entire class will see a butterfly and start running TOWARDS it because theyre like “oh no someone needs help goddamit i gotta get there before hawkmoth” and they dont always win and they dont beat themselves up about it???? Like in confrontation, Juleka got akumatized despite their best efforts and theyre all like “ugh this sucks” but no one’s giving up hope or anything???????

And!!!!! The way that the anti-akuma charms work in that episode??????!?!??!?? The way the fandom has this trend of thinking like,,,, the only way to escape akumas is to push emotions away deep deep down,,,, thats how marinette and adrien have kind of been operating?!???? But then it’s revealed on no uncertain terms that the powerups of the anti akuma charms are reactive to emotions?????!?! That pushing things down doesnt help?? you have to Fight Back and FEEL on your own terms and accept others’ help and feelings?????

Juleka shutting down and curling up into a ball and trying to disapear didnt work!!!but her yelling about how its not fair and shes proud of mr damocles despite it all???? like??? Catalyzed the entire anti akuma charm shield thing???????

The way that this season has shown time and again that it’s okay to be mad and frustrated and hate the system and its okay to feel trapped and scared but you have to learn to reach out and find a good outlet for those emotions even if that outlet is yelling with your friends???? instead of isolating yourself and pushing away people who have your best interest at heart????? And lying and pretending it’s okay doesn’t help but looking for bits of real joy and support amidst the chaos does???

The way that ladybug and chat noir started this season as The Most Alone Theyve Ever Been with the miracle box stolen??? and realized by the end that no one needs powers to be heroes??? they just need to be able to trust each other and take turns carrying Hope for the group and remembering whats worth fighting for!? and as long as theres a drive to fight theres always little victories to celebrate??????????!??

(Also the way that Nino—who heads the resistance—literally calls everyone in his group including Bustier Comrade and the way that they talk about how sometimes it feels like no one’s listening and revolution is the only way?? and the way they address fears about spyware and technology only benefitting the elites and the school system being designed without students’ well-being in mind and environmental terror and the police being corrupt and they take all of that and they say “it is Still a worthy battle and it sucks but you are going to be okay,,, just do not give in to hopelessness… find the people who will help you keep fighting and keep believing in a better future and Cherish Them”)

People complain about this show going “off the rails” as it’s switching its target audience and addressing more “mature” themes or whatever but like do you guys understand how much every single narrative decision makes me scream

#ml spoilers #ml s5 spoilers #nino lahiffe

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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

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i'm sorry if this is rather redundant but what does task for 141 think of the engel herself? we know soap told her to stay away from könig before almost getting shanked by him but what do they all think of this abolutely batshit insane girl? also that lil tidbit of ghost clearing his throat after seeing engel wear her pretty dresses??? 👀

Ok so the thing is other operators fear König and have come to the conclusion that this man is insane. Some even think König shouldn’t be allowed to work in a field like this – actually, he shouldn’t be walking freely at all! They fear his impulsiveness and bloodlust and dread the day this guy fucks up a mission in his battle frenzy.

So if they fear König and consider him a lunatic… they would surely view a girl who wants to be with him mentally unstable as well 🫠

Their first reaction might be pity and concern: how did this guy pull such a sweet and kind girl in the first place? Is she alright, should someone do something? Should someone... save her...? (No one would have the courage I'm afraid)

But when they see how König is around her (flaunting his knives and acting like a proud gorilla full of testosterone) and see how the "sweet kind girl" is around König (smiling, at ease and flirty), they are slightly horrified. When they see she’s not a victim but actively pursues König’s company and admires him, they're kinda like, "Oookay then..." It appears this damsel doesn’t need saving because clearly, she isn’t in distress!

Also. König is so possessive and territorial he wants to leave no doubts as to who this woman belongs to. He holds her hand all the time when they’re together, going on those walks for example, and if somebody sees them he will automatically tighten his grip and pull her closer. Anytime she visits him König makes sure everyone hears them. People try to avoid paying attention to it but cannot help but hear how reader gets loved very profoundly in this gunman’s room. “You look tired,” and “Yeah I couldn't get any sleep last night I wonder how come” would become a dry joke around the barracks soon.

And yeah, reader walking around in those pretty dresses certainly attracts attention! She's practically glowing. It only adds to everyone's bitterness, however. Especially the male operators are getting more and more annoyed. Every man walks around blue-balled and tired except König, and it makes them despise him even more. What a mad, lucky fucker... And what's even more fucked up is that even though he’s getting some nearly every day, this dude shows little to no signs of calming down.

#answered #könig headcanons #yandere könig

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mangoshorthand · 1 year

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Hello! I saw your Five Hargreeves oneshots and wanted to submit one if that's alright. Could you do one where the reader has a fascination with hypnosis and tries it out of Five. It works, but it ends up affecting them both more than they thought, leading to smut. I loved the way the reader took care of Five in Lucking Fucking Pillow and I like the idea of Five letting his mind shut off in order to take a break. If you don't want to do hypnosis can I request some Sub!Five fluff/smut? Thank you!♥

Not the biggest fan of hypno so I went for Sub!Five fluff/smut. I tried to incorporate the idea of Five taking a break and being mesmerised, (even if not literally!). Hope you enjoy xx

In Your Hands | Five Hargreeves/ GN Reader 3.1k words, Rated E

He thought retirement was all he wanted: he envisioned himself kicking back, perhaps taking up fishing or birdwatching or golf or whatever old dogs like him were supposed to do. So, at first, he threw himself into it, wearing a lot of khaki, flannel and tennis shoes and wandering around the city waiting for relaxation to occur.

But, somehow, it never seemed to happen: fishing and birdwatching made him want to tear out his hair, golfers were all assholes (plus he could never get the fucking ball to go where he wanted it to) and he very quickly exhausted his appetite for museums, art galleries and attractions.

The resulting feeling was very much like boredom. With dismay, he found that he was as ill-suited to an idle life as he was to khaki and flannel. Perhaps it was having the body and brain chemistry of someone in his early twenties, or maybe it was something more essential. It wasn’t, as his siblings liked to insist, that he got off on the thrill of an impending apocalypse, but Five’s was certainly a mind that needed a bone to gnaw on.

His first project was his car. He’d first scoured the country for the perfect 1970 Corvette Stingray and then fixed it up to his liking. For months, he could be found in Academy’s parking garage, head under the hood or entirely underneath the jacked-up car and cursing softly as he tweaked, tinkered and optimized the engine.

He was obsessed, living on the intricacies of the work. The mechanical nature of it appealed to his meticulous nature: the little problems to smooth away and the occasional need to think outside the box. He would lie awake at night, brain raking over how to coax the reluctant carburetor into better operation again and again.

As much fun as he had, as with every project, there came a point where he couldn’t do any more. When the car returned from the body shop with a reconstructed paint job, she was in as perfect condition as such an old car could be- there was nothing for him to do but drive her. This was enjoyable, but didn’t give his brain enough to chew on long term.

So, since then, he threw out the idea of retirement along with the incongruous clothing. He just let his brain carry him wherever it wanted to go: sometimes that was recreation and relaxation, at other times it was chasing his latest obsession.

But there was a problem: when ‘on the job’, Five knew no moderation. He’d work on this latest thing for hours into the night, neglecting you and running himself ragged into the bargain. It came of having to obsess in order to stay alive during the apocalypse; he’d learned this crazed single-mindedness there, and it was as if he knew no other way to be.

So when you found him in his dad’s office, hair sticking up in all directions and surrounded by stacks of books, newspapers and an entire chalkboard’s worth of calculations, you sighed heavily.

“What are you on this time, Five?”

“Samuel Shawcross!”

“What?”

“Samuel Shawcross,” he repeated, flicking through the pages of a book feverishly.

“You mean the…aerospace guy?”

“Exactly!” he said, a slightly mad look in his eye, “The billionaire owner of Atlas Aerospace, both famed and mocked for his researches into time travel. An asshole who's shadier than a ten foot parasol.”

You snort laughter at this, but amusement fades as you watch him flip over the chalkboard to write on the other face.

“Billionaires are always shady. Look at your dad.”

“I know!” he said, impatiently, dropping the chalk “and that’s exactly the problem. He and Dad- they knew one another. They were working on stuff together! Look. Look at this!”

He handed you a piece of paper, dated a short while before Reginald’s death. It seemed like the final page of a letter.

-the success of my latest round of testing, I can surmise that it will be extremely appealing to you as well as our associates. I intend for it to be ready within the next decade. Onwards and upwards! Your friend, Samuel Shawcross

You look from the letter, back up at Five.

“Where’s the rest of it?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” he said, beginning to pace like a caged tiger, “it’s nowhere.”

“But it could mean anything.” you say, confused.

“Don’t you get it?” he said, eyes wide, “The old man was an asshole but he sure as hell wasn’t slapdash. If the other half of this letter is gone, then it means that Dad deliberately destroyed it or someone else took it. And the only reason either of those things would happen is if it was sensitive information!”

You looked down at the letter and then doubtfully back up at him.

“Five, it’s been years since your father died. How many people have been in and out of here since then? It could just have been lost. Knocked off a table or something and then thrown out. You told me Klaus ransacked this place.”

“That letter says this device could be ready any time now. We gotta know what it is, surely? If some idiot like Shawcross gets his hands on time travel then we’re all on paradox highway, heading to kugel-town!”

You dropped the letter on the desk and took him by the lapels, feeling his fast breathing. His raised heart rate was perceptible even beneath layers of fabric.

“You’re running away with yourself, Five. Who says this is a time travel device? Who says it’s a device of any kind? Maybe it’s a…a recipe for a really great cocktail or something?”

“What cocktail recipe takes ten years to develop?” he said, though sounding slightly less sure.

“Isn’t this for the Commission to deal with, anyway?” you say, quietly, pressing your body against his, “Why, when they have the Infinite Switchboard, is this down to one sexy boy and his chalkboard?”

The back of his thighs hit his father’s desk. He swallowed, his sturdy adam’s apple bobbing as he looked into your eyes. He found that they pulled his inexorably into their own depths.

smut below cut

Suddenly, what had consumed him so fully seemed less important to focus on than the insistent press of your body and the tug of your eyes. Yet he couldn’t quite stop the whirring of his mind. The little ‘what ifs’ and ‘whys’ churned and fired away like the engine of his Corvette.

You turned your attention to his throat, to the prominence of cartilage that had betrayed his interest. You leaned towards him and laid a kiss there. It was a small kiss: barely more than a peck, but his skin lit up with gooseflesh.

You smirked at the sight.

Five felt his jaw go slack as you moved your face to whisper in his ear, making sure your breath fluttered across his neck along a slow, teasing path.

“Are you stressed, baby?” you whispered, oh-so quietly.

He nodded dumbly, your voice running into his ears like honey, obscuring all other sounds.

“That big old brain of yours giving you trouble?”

“Yes,” he croaked, letting his knees go and leaning against the desk for support.

“So clever, aren’t you? Sometimes it’s nice to just…let go.”

He didn’t respond, instead closing his eyes as one of your hands crept to the other side of his neck and stroked him lazily. The already pebbled skin bristled and a pleasant chill crept down his spine.

He so wanted to let go. He moved into your touch, quietly asking for more.

At this, you hummed delightedly into his ear.

““You always take such good care of me, Five.” you whispered, “You even try to take care of the whole world…but let me take care of you for once. Just let it all go.”

He nodded again, not trusting his voice.

“Shall I help you relax?”

Another nod.

“I don’t hear you, Five,” you said, with a touch of playful reproach.

“Yes please,” he whispered, quickly; eager to please.

You kissed his lips and felt him yield easily to your caresses. You burrowed your hands into his hair, pulling gently. He made a small noise into your mouth and melted into you further: letting himself be kissed. Your lips, firm but soft, communicated all you wanted to tell him: tonight, he was in your hands.

As a sharp heat built within you, you withdrew, unable to help nibbling at his lower lip as you did so.

He looked at you with a patiently expectant expression: ready for you to do with him as you wished. To you, Five was always perfect, but in this mood? He looked practically edible as he looked back at you. His swollen lips were parted, shining with traces of salvia. His fine green eyes were guileless and mesmerized. Undeniably delectable.

You felt a rush of something as you looked at him. So cute and charming, it actually hurt. There was nothing to do but grab his tie and twist it in your fingers, your other hand drifting down his body.

He let out a soft ‘oh’ as you cupped his clothed crotch, weighing his arousal in your hand.

“Hard already?” you said, as if disbelieving, “you must really need me, huh?”

He capitulated to the game without a second thought: it was the path of least resistance now that his cock was as hard as a battering ram and throbbing with the need to feel skin on skin.

“I do, I really need you,” he breathed.

“Are you desperate?” you said, giving his swollen package a little squeeze.

“Yes,” he groaned, “I’m desperate, okay?”

You stepped smartly away from him and he took confused half-step forward to follow you but you turned on your heel and walked swiftly away.

“W-wait,” he said, uncomprehendingly, “please don-”

But he understood as he heard the key click in the lock, locking the door of his father’s office against would-be intruders. You turned back to face him.

“Get undressed baby.”

He nodded again, grateful and certain in the knowledge that he was safe in your hands. He shrugged off his jacket as his numb fingers fumbled with his waistcoat. It was hard to concentrate on the task, so befuddled was his brain. This was complicated further by the sight before him. As his layers of clothing fell away, so did yours. You’d already stripped off your top, revealing the chest that he could never tire of touching, stroking and kissing.

His gorgeous eyes followed you reverently as you removed the rest of your clothes and moved to sit behind the desk. You leaned back comfortably in the commodious desk chair., noting with amusement the way he tripped over his own pants and underwear as he took them off.

Soon, he was standing there in only his socks.

“Come here,” you said, patting your knee, “come and sit nice and close against me, okay?”

He obeyed, looking around uncertainly just as he was about to sit, unsure how you wanted him. Taking him around the waist, you guided him onto your lap.

“That’s it baby. Lean back. Feel me against you.”

He sighed as he did so, losing himself in your touch: in your palm rubbing a comforting circle onto the firm plates of his lower stomach. He reclined fully, resting his head beside yours, his neck forming a graceful arch.

He let out a little puff of air at the feeling of your warmth: the closeness of being cradled this way. It was bliss and it held the promise of more bliss to come.

“I got you, sweetie.”

He made a little noise in response and, smiling, you pecked gently at his pulse point. There, his heart was coming to a slower, steadier rhythm as he relaxed into you. His breathing, you noticed, was becoming deeper, even as his cock stood out proud; a loud exclamation point between his thighs.

You kissed again and again at his neck, the backs of your fingers drifting up and down his stomach. Five didn’t verbally object to this little tease, but couldn’t stop himself nuzzling and butting softly at your cheek, asking you to take him in hand in much the same way as an insistent cat might ask to be petted.

When you didn’t immediately give in, he squirmed against you, restlessly. Spreading his legs wide and arching his back. You hissed in air as his perfect ass wiggled sinfully against your crotch.

Then, it was his turn to hiss as your fingers, on their drift down his stomach, brushed against his swollen, deep pink tip. When you flittled your fingers back up his stomach, he actually whined.

“Please. Please touch me properly down there.”

He certainly sounded desperate.

“It’s okay, baby,” you said, kissing his temple, “of course I will.”

So you wrapped your fingers around his shaft and he made a sweet, formless, high pitched little sound.

He exceeded your hand’s grasp, but not by so much that he couldn’t feel completely enveloped by you. As you massaged his straining dick, you smoothed away the final, lingering preoccupation of his mind, his hitherto furrowed brow clearing and settling into smoothness.

You and the mounting pleasure were the only real things to him as you stroked him, your other hand ghosting lightly across his thigh. He sighed softly, spreading his legs even wider for you as the hand moved to cup and softly rub his balls, your thumb working in a slow, languid circle.

“Feel good, darling?”

He nodded against your cheek, body going heavy in your arms. One hand gripped the buttoned leather of the chair’s arm, and the other stretched back, over his head to brace himself against the chair’s back.

As you stroked him this way, there was just enough of Five left to be satisfied by this situation. What a way to stick it to the old man! What would he say if he knew that Number Five was getting jacked off in his desk chair? What better middle finger to the old bastard than by desecrating his precious study by being a total slut in here?

But as your warm, clever fingers brought him closer to the edge, all thoughts of Reginald were (thankfully) driven away by the deep desire smoldering in his guts, his tingling nerves and the mounting adrenaline.

He groaned a soft ‘oh’ as your hand delivered a particularly harsh jolt of pleasure.

You kissed his cheekbone.

“I love making you feel good, baby.”

He only sighed in response.

Your hand briefly left his shaft to swipe at the pearl of precome beading heavily at his tip. Half of this, you rubbed down the length of his shaft, to slicken your hand as you finished him. You gathered the rest, however, wet, hot and sticky on your finger tips.

You raised it to his face and his lips parted. An eager tongue lapped and licked at the seed coating your fingers.

“You like that?” you asked, delightedly

“Yes,” he breathed, recovering himself enough to speak, “fuck, I think I’d like anything you want to give me.”

“God, I love you,” you gushed, unable to stop yourself smiling at his complete change in attitude; the swing straight from manic energy to submissive desire.

“I love you.” he babbled, “I love you so much.”

At this, he angled his face up towards yours with needy entreaty, so gave him the asked-for attention and kissed him again. He was going to come quickly: you could tell by the way he suckled gently but needily at your lips.

When you broke apart, his heavily-lidded eyes didn’t leave your face, looking up at you with hazy adoration. You kissed his silky hair and held his gaze.

“I’m going to make you come now, baby. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

“Yes.” he murmured, “Yes please.”

You sped your strokes, his tip making a satisfying thwap thwap thwap against your thumb on each upstroke.

His asscheeks tensed and his hips jumped upward to meet your ministrations, whispering a steady stream of rhapsodic affirmations.

“Yes,” he said, “Yeeesss. Oh God, please!”

Tight little moans were creaking from deep in his throat. He sounded like a tiny, feral thing caught in a death grip.

You grasped him tighter and he whined, socked feet scraping and whispering against the turkish rug as he struggled for purchase. His hip bones stood out against his skin as he curled backwards, rubbing his hair into further disarray against your shoulder.

“Fuuccck.”

“God, Five, you make me crazy.” you whispered, “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Mmmph!”

“Yeah, come on: that’s it.”

And then, at your encouragement, his cock pumped against your grasp. His hips surged forwards helplessly with each throb. He gasped shrilly, bucking and grinding against you and crying out in rapture.

“There you go baby,” you said, voice full of lascivious satisfaction, “There you go.”

You lengthened your downstrokes, milking him for all the pleasure you could, noting with satisfaction the way his come splashed copiously onto your arm and wrist.

“Yes. Oh fuck. Yes. Fuck,” he chanted, “Yes. Fuck yes. Thank you!”

His thighs trembled like a nervous terrier as you pulled the final few spurts of come out of him. As the ropes turned to drops, the trembling lessened into sporadic twitches. He breathed long, shaky ‘Ohs’ into your ear as he enjoyed the waning spikes of satisfaction. Gradually, you slowed and then stopped your hand.

Five lay spent against you, his breathing relaxed but shallow. His eyes were closed, head leaning entirely on yours. There was nowhere for you to go with him weighing you down, so you ignored the come getting tacky on your skin and folded your arms around his chest.

“Did I make you feel good, baby?”

A confirmatory grunt sounded from his throat. Clearly, he was in no state to say more. So you took the rare opportunity of Five’s being silenced to whisper to him:

“I love you. You’re so perfect. I love taking care of you like this. You deserve it, sweetie: you really do. You need to relax a little, okay? Get out of your own head now and then. You can’t always be on the go.”

He made no answer but a sleepy smile. After a couple of minutes of silence, you spoke to him again.

“Are you still planning to investigate Samuel Shawcross?”

“Who?” he said, a trace of humor in his dragging voice.

“Attaboy,” you said, placing a final kiss into his hair.

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I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.

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