can we have a little ✨spíce✨ with maverick doting mc while they're placed on his knees? and he just can't help but tease them since mc is all shy and gentle? (I reckon I'll miss all TSR ROs, but nah, I'm all weak for cool guy🤣🤣🤣
A little snippet of Maverick x Shy!MC
I can't stop my heart from beating so much.
It started yesterday, when Sylphina and I decided to visit the Whisht estate after receiving an invitation. It started raining quite late in the evening, so Sylphina and I ended up sleeping over for the night. After waking up and having breakfast, one of the servants quietly asked me if I could see their master, Maverick, for 'something of utmost importance'.
I had expected Maverick wanting to discuss about the Princess. Or Sylphina. Or even advise me about my etiquette training that I had been doing so slowly on.
But none of what I imagine came as I feel my cheeks heat up at the hand that rests on my lower back.
"Are you alright, Wanderer?"
The question was asked in such a casual tone, it almost baffles me on how this stone-faced prick had the gall to ask me such.
How? How can I be alright when I'm sitting on your lap, you dummy?!
"I'm...fine." I barely muster out the second word, hoping I didn't sound too breathy. The hum that escapes Maverick sends a tremor along my body. That tremor grows even more after Maverick grips the hand on my lower back onto one of my hips, pulling me close to his body.
I bit my lower lip and feel fire lick within my belly. Fuck.
"Do let me know if you feel too much discomfort," he says, his quill waving about in movement of his handwriting.
I barely give a nod, my toes curling and uncurling in an attempt to settle down the glee within me for being this close to him. To feel him hold me.
I mentally smack myself. Stop it. He's not holding me. This is...just...
What was it that Maverick needed me for?
When the servant told me Maverick needed me for something important, I rushed my way over here without running (harder than it looked but the servants either didn't notice or ignored it). I only got the question "What's the matter?" out of my mouth before Maverick gestures me to come closer.
And before I knew it, here I am - sitting on Maverick's lap very intimately.
I glance over to his face and take note of the features. Glacial blue eyes focus on his work, white bangs barely reaching above his eyes. His lips are a line, serious and straight. Even his glasses are perfectly perched on the bridge of his nose, settled and fitting to his diligent appearance.
Then I see his eyes widen and they turn to me. It took me a hot second for me to realize my hand is on one of his cheeks, something I retract quickly as if I touched fire itself.
"S-Sorry!" I swallow, the touch of his skin still embedded against my fingers. "You just...you..." The attempt to bring up a reason dies on my tongue.
But Maverick, with a curious gleam in his eyes that I'm far too familiar with, tells me, "you are welcome to reciprocate."
A skip occurs inside me. "What?"
Maverick puts his quill down and leans back against his chair, providing me more room. "You are welcome to touch me."
I was so ready to laugh it off, to take this as him making a joke. But two factors stop me.
One: Maverick doesn't joke easily. Sure, he has his quips and jabs with the occasional sass, but he wouldn't joke about intimacy, consent or anything of that order.
And two...I have fought too long to not tell when there's an opening. And right now, sitting on his lap, Maverick has his guard down almost entirely. A part of me begins to itch and after so many years, I give in.
"Please excuse me."
My words barely come out in a whisper to my ears, but Maverick nods with understanding. I reach up for one of his cheeks, hesitating when my fingertips are just centimetres away. My heartbeats are loud and pumping with vigor, forcing me to hear and feel just how nervous I am.
I touch his porcelain skin. Then I cup his cheek.
His face is warm under my touch. I watch him close his eyes and sigh, something in the mix of relief and ease. I move my other hand to cup his other cheek, examining him up close.
His eyes, while shut, display a bit of dark circles underneath as signs of having less sleep than one should. His snow white hair shines under the soft sunlight behind him through the window. His lips are parted, full and a soft pink shade.
I brush my thumb gently along his cheek. Reacting, he leans into the palm of my hand and relishes in my touch. Something lodges in my throat in that moment.
When was it?
When was the last time I saw Maverick like this?
He opens his eyes and my eyes sting.
They're vibrant and blue, sparked with intelligence and watching me with its gaze.
Something I prayed so hard for, the last time I saw those beautiful eyes close. When I only had them in my dreams and hallucinations in my previous life since the incident.
"Wanderer?"
And in that word, cold water splashes onto my trance.
I let him go and scramble to leave his lap. "I'm sorry, my lord. I..." I brush down my clothes and perform a bow/curtsy "Sylphina is calling."
Maverick frowns and moves to stand. "But Wanderer-"
It was a poor excuse. Even just hearing Maverick's 'but' is enough of an indication that he doesn't believe my lie. But I have to get out of here and build a bit of distance before I do something foolish.
So I run. I run out of the office, down the hall and let my blood pump with adrenaline.
But my heart continues to rattle and beat against my chest, even as tears fill my eyes.
They fall the moment I allow myself to imagine, just a little bit, that his eyes called my name with the familiarity of the past.
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