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em1i2a3 · 21 days ago

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Dawn: Making An Effort

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry/The Void x New Avengers/Thunderbolts!Fem!Reader

Summary: After a mission gone wrong with your old team, you are recruited by Valentina to be a part of The New Avengers. You reluctantly take the spot, but it comes with you needing to face the past to form a better future for yourself.

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Depictions of Death, Loss, and Grief, References to Violence, Reader is a bit troubled, Reader is going through it a bit.

Author’s Note: I really liked this request and want to thank anon for requesting it (I literally cannot find your request, but I will respond to it so you’re aware this is the story lol), hopefully it meets expectations <3

Word Count: 7,197

The room smelled like metal–a rusted copper tang that clung to the air, thick and cloying, the kind that settled in the back of your throat and invaded your senses. It was the scent of oxidized steel, of damp rebar, of blood dried too long on unsealed floors. You couldn’t tell whether it was the room itself, the bones of the infrastructure corroding slowly around you, or if it was you–your gloves, soaked dark and stiff with someone else’s blood. The knuckles were cracked leather, heavy with the weight of the past hour, and they hadn’t stopped shaking.

You sat motionless at the metal table, elbows planted, back straight, boots flat to the ground like it might steady the thunder in your spine. The walls around you were concrete–grey, pockmarked, uneven. A fluorescent bulb buzzed above you, casting everything in a sterile, unflattering hue. The shadows it left beneath your eyes made you look hollow–like a ghost in a borrowed body.

A slow drip echoed from the far corner. You thought it was a pipe leak, maybe, or something far worse, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

There were no windows, no clocks, and no indication of how long you had been sitting there. Only the dried blood on your forearms that grew tacky beneath your jacket, and the sickening memory of the last face you saw before it all went to hell.

Then the door creaked.

You didn’t move a muscle.

The woman who entered didn’t need an introduction. You knew her from the sharp line of her jaw, the high collar of her stark white coat–that had no stains and was probably dry cleaned that day–, the unapologetic click of her heels against the tile, and the white pieces of hair that framed her face.

Valentina Allegra de Fontaine…

She didn’t offer her name. She didn’t sit right away either–she just looked at you, her gaze sliding over the cracked knuckles of your gloves, the blood drying on your face and collarbone, and the silence behind your eyes.

“Well,” She started lightly, “They really weren’t kidding about you hmm?” Her voice was rich with amusement, but beneath it–buried deep–there was something else. Something cool, calculating, curious…Almost impressed.

She dropped a Manila folder onto the table with a thud that echoed louder than it should’ve. It fanned open on impact, and you didn’t need to look to know your photo was clipped inside. The file was thick, it had followed you since you were a child, so it was much more than just your mission records.

“Don’t worry,” She reassured, sliding into the chair across from you, like she’d done it a hundred times before, “I’ve read all the redacted parts.” A small grin came up on her lips, waiting for you to react, but you stayed stoic. You stared past her shoulder, past the glass where hidden people behind it were probably watching, and past the moment that was brewing between you and Valentina.

She leaned forward slightly, resting one manicured hand atop the folder.

”I watched your little press conference disaster,” She commented with a sly tilt of her mouth, “The way you took down those six tactical agents and shattered the stage barrier before the cameras even cut to commercial–riveting television…I must say.” Your gaze snapped to hers, flat and steady.

“Did you come here gloat?”

“No,” Valentina said smoothly, “I came to recruit.” She tapped her fingers once against the folder, “You’ve got quite the body count…Three hundred and twenty six by the ripe age of twenty one…You’re skilled. Precise. Adaptable…Which makes you useful to me.” You let out a huff of a laugh, dry and humourless.

”I’m already part of a team.” Valentina arched a brow, the corner of her mouth twitching like she couldn’t quite believe you had said it with a straight face.

”A team?” She repeated, like the word itself offended her, “You call two people a team? That’s generous.” She leaned back slightly, crossing one leg over the other, “Last time I checked…You had more than that. Or need I remind you what happened to the other two?” Your jaw clenched. The leather of your gloves creaking.

“I was there,” You snapped, voice low and acidic, “I don’t need you to remind me of the mistake I made.” The silence cracked like a tension wire.

”Speak another word about it,” You added, your stare locked onto hers with surgical precision, “And you’ll be taken out of here on a gurney.” Valentina blinked once, then raised her hands in mock surrender, lips pulling into a grin that made something deep in your gut tighten.

“Easy there,” She said, like she was humouring a child with a live grenade, “No need for theatrics. I’m not your enemy.” You rolled your eyes.

”Could’ve fooled me.”

”I’m offering you something you won’t be able to get anywhere else,” She said plainly, like she had not just poked at the open wound in your chest with her manicured fingers, “Maybe you should listen before you go off the rails.” You leaned back in your chair, expression unreadable. The silence between you both was colder now. Heavier.

“And what could you possibly offer me that I can’t achieve myself?” You questioned. Valentina’s smile didn’t fade. She leaned forward, her voice dropping just slightly–low, firm, and quiet enough to draw you in.

“Redemption.” The word landed like a bullet–clean and quiet–hitting you straight through your chest.

”My team isn’t exactly made of saints,” She continued, “They’ve got baggage. Blood on their hands. They’re broken pieces that don’t fit anywhere else. But look at them now…” You didn’t move, so she continued, “They’re not just surviving. They’re useful. Trusted. Publicly adored in just the right doses and feared in all the places that matter. They’ve been given a second chance to write a new story…I think you could use that kind of opportunity.” You bit the inside of your cheek, drawing blood.

”Yeah. They’re rebranded Avengers with issues. Whoopee.” Valentina laughed–genuinely this time.

”Touché.” She reached for the folder, tapping it again, as if she were sealing something shut.

”You’re smart. Lethal. Too dangerous for a world that only understands clean endings and golden headlines. But I understand you…And I don’t need you to smile for a camera or kiss babies in a flak jacket. I just need you to do what you’re built to do…For someone who actually knows how to use it.” Your silence was almost an answer, and you watched as Valentina stood and smoothed her coat.

”Jet’s wheels up at 0600. You walk out of this room, you’re mine…You stay…Well. You know how that story ends I bet.” She stepped toward the door, heels echoing in the hollow space. Then, just before leaving, she glanced over her shoulder.

“For what it’s worth,” She added, tone quieter now–less sharp, more knowing, “You didn’t make a mistake. You made a decision. A bad one you didn’t know the consequences of. Your training just didn’t teach you how to live with those…” Then the door shut behind her, leaving you in silence.

———————

You stood at the far end of the debriefing table, spine straight, hands clasped behind your back in a posture that screamed control. The kind of control that had been conditioned, not chosen. Your boots were planted shoulder-width apart on the polished concrete, motionless despite the low thrum of adrenaline that still lived somewhere behind your ribs. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, their hum threading into the silence like static in your skull.

Across from you, six operatives sat in a staggered row, each flanked by the long stretch of matte black table like pieces on a chessboard. The New Avengers. A name wrapped in PR and repurposed rage.

They were all watching you.

Walker leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest like he was trying to figure out if he wanted to challenge you or flirt. His smirk twitched as he whispered something under his breath to Alexei–something you couldn’t quite catch, but the low rumble of amusement that followed wasn’t subtle.

Yelena nudged Ava beside her, voice hushed but sharp, and you didn’t need super-hearing to know she was referencing the press conference. You could tell from the timing of her glance toward your gloved hands. You didn’t react.

Ava didn’t laugh. She just stared, calculating and unreadable, still flipping her phase mask around in one hand like it was a coin she might bet on you–or against you.

Bucky said nothing, but his jaw was tight, his gaze heavy. He didn’t flinch when you looked at him. He didn’t blink either.

But it was Bob who stood out the most.

Not because he spoke–he didn’t.

Not because he looked afraid–he didn’t do that either.

He just…Watched.

Quiet. Still. Brows faintly knit, like he was trying to understand a language he hadn’t heard spoken in years. His hands were folded neatly on the table in front of him, thumbs tracing each other in slow, nervous repetition. He wasn’t whispering like the others. Wasn’t sizing you up. Wasn’t looking at your scars or your stance.

He was just listening.

To Valentina.

Who stood beside you, poised and razor-sharp in a black pantsuit number as she addressed the room like she was unveiling a new weapon.

Valentina let the silence stretch just long enough to make them uneasy. Her presence was as deliberate as her words–every movement precise, every pause calculated to remind the room that she was in charge, not them.

“I’m assuming you already know who this is,” She said, her voice cool and composed, with a faint smile tugging at her mouth. “But if you want a formal introduction…” She extended a hand lazily toward you like she was showcasing a piece of rare, volatile tech. “This is your new teammate. Y/N.”

A beat passed.

Two.

The name hung in the air like smoke, and you felt the shift ripple across the room. Subtle postures changing. Weight redistribution. Eyes narrowing.

Walker’s brows shot up. “Wait a second–new teammate?” His voice had that familiar drawl of annoyance disguised as charm. “I thought you said she was a temp. Just some short-term cleanup, maybe a field fill-in, not–” He motioned vaguely toward you, “–a permanent seat at the table.”

Valentina didn’t even blink.

She turned slightly, one arm draping across her stomach while the other gestured loosely back toward the table like she was entertaining children.

“There was a change of plans,” She said with a sigh, flicking her gaze from Walker back to you with something like calculated amusement. “After that press conference, I figured we could use a little expansion.”

You didn’t move.

Didn’t smile.

Didn’t give them anything to work with.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Walker muttered, leaning toward Bucky with a grin, “She was impressive. Six agents down in under thirty seconds? Most people need a gun for that kind of show.”

“She had a gun,” Yelena cut in, tone flat. “She just didn’t use it.”

Bob’s head tilted slightly, his gaze never leaving you.

Valentina ignored them.

“She’s here for real,” She said plainly. “She trains with you. Briefs with you. Deploys with you. That’s not negotiable.”

“Why now?” Bucky finally asked, voice low. Not a challenge. Just a question grounded in something deeper. Experience. Weariness. The kind of tired that came from too many missions and too many trust exercises gone wrong.

Valentina gave him a smile that was far too controlled to be warm.

“Because she was wasted where she was. Buried. Blamed. And whether or not any of you like it, she’s one of the most effective operatives I’ve ever had my eye on. She’s not just here for muscle.”

You could feel the weight of Bob’s gaze settle heavier on you at that.

“She’s here because she’s lethal,” Val continued, “and because despite the mess the media made, she still has something left to give. Something no one’s asked her for in a long time.”

The silence thickened.

It wasn’t distrust exactly–it was something closer to unease. Like they were all trying to figure out where you would fit in a team already stitched together from frayed edges.

“Try not to scare them too badly,” She murmured, just loud enough for the table to hear as she turned away. “Or do. Honestly, I don’t care, as long as you don’t miss your marks.”

With that, she walked off–heels clicking against the polished floor, the door hissing shut behind her like punctuation on a loaded statement.

You were left standing at the head of the table. No backup. No defense.

Just you.

And six people trained to kill you if necessary.

————————

That night, the compound’s kitchen was dim and still when you stepped inside. It was late–late enough that even the most restless of them had retreated to their quarters, leaving the common areas swallowed in silence. The overhead lights had been left off, and the only illumination came from the soft, pale-blue under-lighting beneath the cabinets. It cast long shadows across the countertops and bathed the space in a low, almost surgical glow.

You didn’t hear music. No TV playing in the next room. Just the low, steady hum of the refrigerator and the soft, rhythmic clink of metal tapping against ceramic.

You froze in the doorway.

Bob stood at the stove, back to you, completely unaware of your presence.

His frame was relaxed but slightly hunched, like he hadn’t realized how tired he was until he finally stood still. The hoodie he wore was a heathered navy, too big in the sleeves and worn thin at the seams. The fabric gathered gently around his elbows where the sleeves were shoved up–revealing forearms pale and dusted with light brown hair, scattered freckles, and old, barely visible burn marks, worn away by time.

There was a carton of eggs open beside him. One shell was cracked clean in half on the counter, and the other had just been emptied into a skillet that sizzled faintly on a low flame. A chipped ceramic plate sat off to the side, holding two misshapen pancakes and what looked like the world’s most awkwardly sliced avocado.

He was cooking. Slowly. Methodically. Like it was the only thing in the world keeping him grounded.

You almost backed out of the room.

You weren’t sure why you’d come in the first place. Hunger, maybe. Habit. But now that you saw him, the urge to retreat was strong. You didn’t want to make it worse for him. The formal meeting that afternoon had been…Uncomfortable. Stiff. And being the new person never came easily–but being the people to welcome that new person in was probably worse on a whole different level.

Especially when you came with blood on your name and a body count thick enough to silence a room.

You took a quiet step back, attempting to make a quick escape without being noticed.

That’s when it happened.

A sharp hiss–then a low, muffled grunt of pain.

“Sh–Shit,” Bob gasped, pulling his hand back from the stove.

You were already moving toward him. Instinct.

“Did you get burned?” You asked, your voice breaking the silence as you stepped up beside him.

He nearly jumped out of his skin.

Bob turned quickly, stumbling a step to the side. His wide, ocean-colored eyes locked with yours–startled, shimmering faintly in the glow of the counter light. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the hitched breath in his chest. His right hand was curled loosely in front of him, trembling faintly. He immediately tucked his hand behind him.

”I-I’m fine,” He said quickly, voice breathy with embarrassment. “Just a li-little burn.” You raised your eyebrows at him.

”I’ll be the judge of that.” Your tone was low, careful–but not cold. You held out a hand, palm up, waiting.

He hesitated.

For a second, you saw it–the indecision flickering across his features like static. His shoulders hunched a little tighter, and his eyes flicked between your outstretched fingers and your face, unsure whether to retreat or comply.

Then–reluctantly–he gave in.

Bob brought his hand into view, unfolding his fingers stiffly.

You winced.

The burn had already begun to swell. A searing red patch spread across the heel of his palm and the base of his fingers, the skin taut and angry. It was definitely the kind of burn that would blister pretty badly. The kind that would sting for days every time water touched it. You could already see the faint shine of moisture where it had broken the skin.

“Jesus…All from making eggs, hmm?” You muttered softly, more to yourself than to him. He gave you a sheepish shrug.

”Ev-Evidently I’m not…Great with he-heat.” You stepped a little closer, reaching out without asking this time. Your fingers curled gently around the edges of his palm, careful not to brush the raw skin. His hand was warm–warmer than it should’ve been–and shaking slightly. Whether from the pain or your touch, you couldn’t tell.

And then–

Everything went black.

It wasn’t a fade or a flicker. It was a snap. A complete, suffocating absence of light that dropped like a curtain–fast and unforgiving.

You blinked, startled. For a moment, you honestly thought the lights had gone out–power cut, breaker blown, maybe even a Void surge overhead–but then you realized something far more unsettling:

You didn’t feel Bob’s palm under yours anymore.

His hand was gone.

So was the stove. The counter. The hum of the fridge. The floor.

All of it.

Gone.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you stepped backward into what felt like nothing. Your boots made no sound. There was no air current. No walls. Just thick, absolute darkness.

“Bob?” you called out, your voice cracking.

Nothing.

You turned, spinning once, twice–arms instinctively lifting like you could feel your way through the black. There was no shape, no surface, not even a glimmer of light to orient yourself by. You could’ve been standing still, or falling.

And then–

You heard it.

A sound that made your blood run cold.

Your sobs.

But not the kind you could pass off as frustration or grief behind closed doors.

These were broken.

Gut-wrenching, wild, animalistic.

Ragged wails, full of something you hadn’t let yourself feel in months. Something raw. Terrible.

And with them came the smell–

Blood.

Gunpowder.

Fire.

It hit you all at once, flooding your senses. Copper on your tongue. Smoke in your lungs. The sharp sting of scorched ozone and melted steel. You could feel the heat pressing against your skin, phantom burns crawling up your arms, through your jacket.

You spun again, faster this time.

“No,” You whispered.

But it was too late.

The crashing started. Shouts. Gunfire. Screams that cut off too fast. The wail of twisted metal and the shriek of something overhead collapsing. Your hands curled into fists, trying to drown it out, trying to anchor yourself–but it was everywhere.

You dropped to your knees in the dark, head between your hands.

“What the hell is happening…” You gasped, shaking your head hard.

And that’s when it changed.

The darkness didn’t disappear–but it bent inward, caving in like smoke being sucked into a vacuum–until, with a jolt of sickening clarity, you were no longer alone.

The scene unfurled in front of you like a projection burned directly into your retinas.

The wreckage.

Twisted beams. Fire blooming from the remains of an armored transport. Ash still drifting in the air like snow.

And you–you were there.

On your knees, just like you’d been that night. Cradling one of your teammates against you–his chest unmoving, his body limp against your lap, blood pouring from the wounds he was littered with. His blonde hair had been stained red, and all you could see was the back of his head, as you rocked back and forth. Your gloves were soaked through. Your face was stained with ash, blood and tears. Your whole body trembled with the effort of holding him together even as you knew he was already gone.

The version of you in the memory let out another choked sob.

You could barely breathe. You felt everything. The weight. The failure. The crushing, unbearable truth of it all. It wrapped around your throat, buried itself in your lungs, making your chest ache like it had that night–the same desperate, futile ache that you had as you were trying to will someone back to life with your bare hands.

And then–

You heard it.

A breath.

Sharp. Quiet. Real.

Your eyes snapped toward the sound.

There–just beyond the smoke and blood and wreckage, standing between a collapsed girder and the still-burning wreck of the transport truck–was Bob.

He looked pale. Completely out of place. Like his body had been dropped into a memory it was never meant to occupy. His chest was rising and falling in shallow, stunned bursts, lips parted, hands slack at his sides.

Eyes wide.

Wide with grief.

Wide with recognition.

Like he felt it.

Not just saw it–felt it.

Like your pain had hit him the same way it had once shattered you.

“What the fuck,” You gasped.

The words left your mouth just as the image around you fractured. The wreckage began to peel back, like it was being burned out of frame. Flame and ash collapsed inward, shadows curling away into that same darkness you were in at the beginning of this scenario.

Your body seized–and then suddenly–

You were back in the kitchen, watching it snap into place around you. The stove, the counter, the low hum of the refrigerator, the egg that Bob had been cooking moments before now burning and smoking up.

Your hands were still wrapped around Bob’s, but you yanked them back like you had been burned, your breath coming in sharp and panicked.

Bob’s expression shattered into something horrified.

“I–I’m so sorry,” He said immediately, breath catching. “I didn’t mean to–I swear, I–I didn’t even know that would happen–It hasn’t ha–”

“Don’t.” Your voice cracked like a whip.

He froze mid-word.

You took a step back, then another, your hands clenched tight at your sides, jaw locked, eyes burning. You weren’t crying–but it was close.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You snapped, voice breaking despite your best effort.

Bob’s mouth opened like he was about to say something–anything–but he hesitated.

And that hesitation was all you needed.

You turned on your heel and bolted.

Your boots echoed once, twice on the tile–and then you were gone, the kitchen left behind in your wake like smoke after a blast.

————————

Since the kitchen situation you hadn’t spoken to anyone.

You came to training late and left early. You skipped meals unless the common areas were empty. And any time Bob walked into a room, you walked out like the air had been poisoned.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the team to notice.

Which is why the morning meeting quickly derailed.

The table was quiet, but not with focus. Not with strategy. The air wasn’t tense–it was uncertain. Uneasy. Like everyone knew something had broken but didn’t know which piece to pick up first.

Bob sat on the far end of the room, one sleeve pulled down awkwardly over his palm, even though the skin had already begun to heal. His jaw was tight. Eyes red around the edges. He had barely slept.

“Alright,” Walker finally muttered, tossing a pen onto the table with a sharp clatter. “Are we all just gonna pretend this isn’t a thing? Because it’s a thing.”

Alexei lifted a brow. “You mean the fact that she nearly punched a hole in the gym wall yesterday after Bob walked in?”

“Or the fact that she hasn’t spoken to anyone in forty-eight hours and growls when you say her name?” Yelena added. “Yeah. It’s getting hard to miss.”

Bucky just looked at Bob.

Didn’t speak. Didn’t push.

Not yet.

But Bob felt the weight of the stare anyway. And eventually–after a long, brittle pause–he cracked.

“I–I got burned,” He said quietly. The words barely scraped out of him. “She to-touched my hand…And I saw it.”

“Saw what?” Ava asked, voice cool but attentive.

Bob looked up, eyes glassy, like he wasn’t quite here. “Her shame room.”

The silence that followed was absolute.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

Until–

“Wait a minute.” Yelena’s eyes narrowed. “The Void is back?”

Bob’s brow furrowed. His hand twitched. Then slowly, he rubbed at his temple like a headache had been buried there since that night.

“I do–don’t know…” He mumbled. “I di-didn’t think so. I’ve been feeling fine… No blackouts. No…no voices. Could’ve been fr-from the burn. Or…Maybe it was her. I don’t know…”

Bucky cleared his throat. Not loud. Not sharp. Just enough to cut through the fog.

“How bad was it?”

Bob’s mouth opened—but no words came. His throat worked. His eyes dropped to the table.

Then he shook his head slowly, jaw tightening.

“I–I’m not talking about it,” He said, voice low but firm. “It’s no-not my place to say.”

Ava exhaled through her nose and leaned back in her chair. “Well… Does she at least understand you didn’t mean to do it?” Her tone wasn’t cruel–it was pragmatic. “Did you try to talk to her about it?” Bob’s shoulders stiffened.

“I tr-tried,” He whispered. “But she ran off.”

There was a beat of silence.

Alexei leaned forward, voice surprisingly soft. “Maybe talk to her again. Poor girl…She doesn’t understand, you cannot control it.” Bob’s jaw clenched again. His fingers tapped once against the sleeve still pulled over his palm, a twitchy, unfocused rhythm.

Then, finally, he exhaled–sharp, bitter.

“Wh–what am I supposed to say?” He muttered. “Hey, I–I’ve got this shadow that li–lives inside me and he ca–can see into your worst memories, ho–hope you can forgive me?” His voice cracked on the last word, brittle and acidic like he was choking on the truth of it.

Walker tilted his head, almost like he thought that what Bob had just said would suffice.

“I mean…” He said slowly, “Something like that should do.”

Bob blinked.

Walker shrugged one shoulder, and added, “Maybe don’t be so self-deprecating about it. You make it sound like you’re handing her a bomb with a ‘sorry’ sticker on it.”

Yelena snorted. “It kind of is a bomb.”

“Sure, but you don’t have to say it like that,” Walker replied, gesturing toward Bob with the edge of his coffee mug. “Just explain what it was. Tell her it wasn’t intentional. And that you’re not judging her for what you saw.”

Bob’s gaze dropped again.

”An-And what if she doesn’t allow me to ta-talk?”

“Then you give her some time alone and try again.” Bucky replied simply, “Sometimes patience is key. You probably reopened a pretty bad wound, and she is spiraling with it right now…I can’t blame her for being distant.” Bob nodded slowly, rubbing the side of his neck. His voice came out smaller this time, threaded with genuine hesitation.

“Sh–Should I bring her food or so–something?” He asked. “Like a peace offering?”

Ava’s brows lifted in surprise.

Then–unexpectedly–she let out a quiet laugh. Just one, short and soft, like it slipped through the cracks before she could stop it.

“Only you would suggest something like that,” She said, shaking her head faintly. “Jesus.”

Bob flushed a little, ducking his chin, but Ava wasn’t done.

“But…” She added, dragging the word out. “Maybe a snack might help. I don’t know. Do what you think is right. I’m sure she won’t, you know…stab you for bringing toast.”

Walker raised his cup. “Bring borscht and she might.”

Alexei looked mildly offended. “You insult culture with every word, you know this?”

Bob let out a small sigh, and stood slowly, uncertain, but clearly determined to act before the courage ebbed again. He took a shaky step back, then paused with one last glance toward the table.

”Wish m-me luck I guess…”

————————

Bob stood in front of your bedroom door, gripping a paper bag so stuffed with snacks it looked like it might split open at the bottom.

He had gone to the corner store like a man on a mission–one with absolutely no sense of proportion or restraint either. He filled his basket up with Chocolate-covered almonds. Trail mix. Sour candy. Gummy bears. Granola bars. Kettle chips. Seaweed snacks. Fruit roll-ups. Three different brands of chips, in three different flavours–sour cream, barbecue, and original. And a tin of Danish butter cookies he was pretty sure no one actually liked but everyone ate anyway.

He’d spent way too much.

And now he wasn’t sure if he was more terrified of the silence behind your door—or what he’d say if you actually opened it.

He shifted the weight of the bag awkwardly in his arms and knocked—three soft taps that still sounded too loud in the quiet corridor.

Seconds passed.

His heart stuttered.

Then–

The door cracked open.

Just a few inches.

You appeared behind it, eyes sharp and guarded, posture drawn tight with hesitation–but not closed off. Just…Braced. Like you’d expected someone else. Definitely not him. Definitely not with that bag in his arms. Almost instantly he felt the need to explain himself.

“I–I didn’t know what yo-you liked so…” He gave a small, sheepish shrug and glanced down at the groceries in his hands.

Your eyes dropped to the bag–bulging with plastic and bright colors and crinkled wrappers–then back up to him. Your eyebrows raised, dry and unimpressed.

“So you bought the whole snack aisle?”

Bob flushed instantly. “I–uh–I didn’t mean to, I just–thought maybe–”

You stepped aside.

He froze.

“You can come in,” You said quietly.

His eyes flicked past your shoulder. The lights were dim. Your bed wasn’t made. A blanket lay half-crumpled on the chair by the desk, and a half-finished cup of tea sat forgotten on the windowsill. It didn’t look messy. Just…Untouched. Like a space being lived in without being inhabited.

“Yo-you sure?” he asked, voice soft. You hesitated, gaze flicking to his hands–the burn barely visible now, pink and healing–and something in your jaw tensed. But you nodded once.

“Yeah,” You said, stepping further back. “Just come in.”

Bob hesitated for only a second longer, then crossed the threshold like it might collapse behind him. You shut the door quietly behind him, the soft click of the latch sounding louder than it should’ve. With a flick of your fingers, you turned the dimmer switch up on the wall, coaxing the overhead light into a warm, amber glow. Not bright. Just enough to chase out the shadows pooling at the edges of the room.

His eyes moved instinctively with the shift, adjusting quickly–but not before they caught on the open boxes that littered one side of your space.

You didn’t explain them. You didn’t need to.

Instead, you walked over to the closest box–half-unpacked, the flaps still tucked neatly back like you’d only just opened it–and reached in. Your fingers brushed against paper, cloth, metal. You pulled out a picture frame, holding it loosely at your side before letting your arms curl around it, pressing the glass to your sternum like armor.

Bob gently set the bag of snacks down on the floor beside him with a quiet rustle of crinkling wrappers. He didn’t touch the chair or the bed. Just lowered himself to sit on the floor near the edge of your rug, knees bent, legs crossed in front of him. It looked like a peace offering in motion–quiet and unobtrusive. Like he wanted to be on your level. To make himself small.

You didn’t look at him when you spoke.

“I’m sorry for overreacting,” You said, voice low but even. “When you…Did whatever you did. I should’ve given you a second to ex–”

“I-I should be the one apologizing,” Bob cut in gently. His tone wasn’t sharp, but it was immediate. He leaned forward a little, elbows resting loosely on his knees. “I di–didn’t really know it would ha-happen. I haven’t gotten one of those episodes in a wh-while…” You stared at Bob for a long moment, the frame still pressed against your sternum like it might hold you together.

“…Is it like…A superpower or something?” You asked finally, your voice quieter now. Not accusatory. Just searching. Like you weren’t sure what to do with the weight of what had happened, so you were trying to make sense of it with the only framework you had left–logic. Or maybe sarcasm.

Bob flushed a little and dropped his gaze, the red climbing faintly up the sides of his neck. He reached into the bag beside him, rifling through candy and chips and unopened trail mix, his hands moving just to have something to do.

“I wo–wouldn’t really consider go–going into someone’s worst me–memories a superpower…” He said softly, almost like the words stung as they left his mouth.

You exhaled slowly, a dry sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. You finally pulled the picture frame away from your chest, letting the glass catch the room’s amber light. Your thumb brushed against the edge of the photo, tracing the outline of someone’s shoulder–his shoulder.

“Well…” You muttered, your voice a little unsteady, a little sardonic, “It definitely brought back one of the worst days of my life… So at least it’s doing what it needs to, I guess?”

You tried to smile, just a little, as you said it.

Tried to make the bitterness taste like a joke.

But it didn’t hit. Not really.

Not with Bob.

His hands stilled in the snack bag, and he didn’t say anything.

You turned away, walking to the wall slowly–quietly–and placed the picture frame on the ledge beside a half-unpacked box of books. You took a step back, adjusting it slightly so it stood straight, then let your arms fall loosely at your sides.

Bob’s eyes caught on the photo instantly.

And stayed there.

It was you.

You, younger. Cleaner. Lighter somehow.

Your arm was wrapped around the waist of the same blonde man you had cradled in that memory–his grin caught mid-laugh, his fingers brushing your shoulder like he’d been pulling you closer. Behind you, two others–a red headed woman, and a man with a buzzcut–were flashing peace signs, faces smudged with dust and adrenaline but alive with the kind of chaotic joy that only came at the end of something brutal. A finished op. A hard win.

You were all in full tactical gear–helmets off, hair windblown, vests half-unbuckled. The four of you stood in front of what looked like an armored convoy vehicle, the kind built to withstand a small war. It was dented. Smoked. You must have won that day.

You looked radiant.

Exhausted. Sweaty. But bright.

Untouched by what came next.

Bob swallowed hard. He didn’t ask who they were.

He didn’t need to, because his assumptions were already answering all the questions he had.

The weight of the moment pressed between you both, a silence thick with memory and absence. You stood there in front of the shelf, shoulders drawn in faintly, arms loose but tense at your sides. You didn’t need to turn around to know he was still looking at the photo. You could feel it in the way the air shifted, the way the silence felt heavier behind you–like grief had pressed itself into the room’s seams and refused to move.

So, you cleared your throat–just once–and said, low and flat:

“His name was Tommy.”

A pause.

You didn’t move. Just kept your eyes on the frame.

“He was my mission partner. Practically my older brother.” You exhaled through your nose. “Always had my back. Always made me laugh, even in hellzones. Always knew what to say when I couldn’t… when I was slipping.”

Your throat tightened.

You pressed your tongue to the roof of your mouth, trying to hold the rest down, but it came anyway. Quiet. Croaked.

“I let my guard down on a mission. We were in a hot zone, doing recon sweep. I was supposed to be covering him.” Your voice cracked faintly. “Didn’t see the sniper eyeing us. I-I was distracted. One fucking second.”

You turned a little then, just enough to gesture toward the redhead in the photo—your finger hovering midair before curling faintly inward like you couldn’t bear to point directly.

“Same shooter got Dawn. I didn’t even know until the debrief. She bled out behind a wrecked ATV while I was trying to drag Tommy back.” A bitter laugh puffed out of you. “Didn’t even know she was down. I was too busy trying to bring someone already gone back from the edge.”

Behind you, Bob’s hand stilled over his knee. His breath caught, faint but audible, and when he spoke, it was hesitant. Fragile.

“I-Is…Is th-that why you…Killed those agents? At the p-press conference?”

The words were careful. Not an accusation. Just a thread, tugged gently.

You swallowed.

Hard.

Then you let out a long breath, the kind that cracked on the way out.

“There’s more to that story than just me ruthlessly killing them,” You muttered. “They were dirty. The footage didn’t show what happened before I pulled the trigger. It didn’t show Tommy’s name on their classified documents. It didn’t show the microdrive Dawn smuggled out before she died. It didn’t show them laughing when I brought it up in private. How proud they were. How little they cared.”

You sniffled once–sharp, involuntary–and swiped at the corners of your eyes before the tears had the chance to fall.

“A video may be worth a million words,” you added, voice hoarse, “but nobody knows why I did it. They just saw blood.”

Bob rose slowly.

Not abruptly. Not like he’d made a decision–more like his body had needed to move toward you. His legs unfolded with care, quiet and fluid, and his footsteps were near silent as he crossed the small space between you. You didn’t look up. Didn’t turn. Just kept staring ahead, chest rising and falling in tight, shallow beats as you tried to keep the ache at bay.

He stopped just behind you.

For a second, he said nothing.

Then–softly, almost too quiet to catch:

“I-I’m sorry…”

You didn’t move.

He hesitated.

Then, barely above a whisper:

“F-For your loss.”

The breath you exhaled trembled through your chest. You nodded faintly, wiping again at your eyes, voice thick as you murmured:

“It’s…It’s fine.”

It wasn’t.

But there were no words left to say that wouldn’t unravel you.

And that’s when Bob stepped closer.

He didn’t ask. Didn’t warn.

He just moved, gently, like he was trying not to scare you away–and wrapped his arms around you from behind. His touch was careful, and timid. One arm curled around your middle, the other across your chest, drawing you back softly into him. He rested his chin on your shoulder–not heavy, just there. Warm. Real. Anchoring.

Your breath hitched again, but you didn’t pull away.

You let yourself lean into him, just a little. Just enough to feel the shape of another body around yours.

And then, softly:

“I-I kn-know it must be hard…To be on a new te-team again.”

His voice cracked near the end, the consonants snagging like barbed wire. His grip around you tightened slightly.

“I can’t imagine ho-how it makes you feel…” You let out a shaky breath, one that caught hard in your chest and shuddered on the way out. Your eyes squeezed shut, lashes damp as the tears you’d been fighting finally broke loose, slipping down your cheeks one after another in silence.

You didn’t sob. Didn’t wail.

Just stood there, still and small in the center of your own room, wrapped in someone else’s arms, crying like it had been held in too long to come out any other way.

And Bob held you tighter.

Not crushing. Not desperate. Just steady. Like he knew what it meant to feel like a fault line–cracked in too many places, hoping someone might hold the pieces still for a little while.

His chin pressed gently into your shoulder, and his voice–low and careful–broke through the quiet.

“Bu-But…” He started, the word catching a little in the middle, “Hopefully… we can make it ea-easier for you.”

You didn’t speak.

You just kept breathing–tight and trembling and uneven.

Bob’s thumb moved slowly against your side, tracing a small arc just under the fabric of your sleeve. Not in a way that expected anything. Just a grounding touch, something to keep you tethered.

“The en-entire team’s lost someone,” He continued, his voice almost a whisper now. “B-Bucky doesn’t talk about it, but you can see it in the way he watches every back but his own, and lo-looks like he’s expecting his friend to walk through the door. Yelena pretends she doesn’t care, b-but she hasn’t taken her sister’s name off her emergency contact. And Ava…she still wears her p-partner’s patch inside her boot. Walker doesn’t admit it, but he looks for someone who isn’t there every time he runs drills. Alexei…just drinks more when it gets bad.”

He paused.

And you could feel it–not just in the way his breath hit your skin, but in the way the room seemed to settle into what he said.

“Th-They’ll understand you.”

You opened your eyes slowly. Let them rest on the photo again, blurred now by the tears clinging to your lashes. You sniffled softly, then wiped your cheek with the back of your hand, exhaling like it hurt to do it.

Bob didn’t let go.

He just kept holding you, warm and steady and real behind you, like he didn’t care how long it took.

And in a voice so soft it barely escaped your throat, you whispered:

“I don’t know how to be a part of something again.”

Bob’s arms tightened.

Not in fear.

But in certainty.

“I kn-know,” He whispered, almost broken with how sure he was. “But you do-don’t have to know how. Just…Let us try.”

You nodded against him–barely–but it was enough.

And in that quiet little room with unpacked boxes and unopened snacks, held in arms that trembled just a little less than your own, you didn’t feel entirely alone. Not for the first time in a long while.

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rawrfrferrari · 14 days ago

Text

Bad Romance | MV 1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x girlfriend!oc

Type: SMAU, PR Relationship.

[Request and Taglist] [Masterlist]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.

f1wagsofficial

Liked by maxverstappendaily, maxlanaupdates and others

f1wagsofficial Spotted: Alana arriving solo two days in a row for FP & Quali while boyfriend Max Verstappen took the back entrance into the paddock.

Cameras caught only a few interactions, but let’s see what Sunday brings.

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gridgirlie she literally looked stunning yesterday I would also want to make a solo entrance

wifeverstappen lmao that fake couple arc lasted like 3 weeks

f1wagstea i don’t blame her. fake or not, she’s gotta protect her peace lol

redbullbabe33 maybe she’s letting max focus?? she doesn’t have to be glued to him lol

username1 idk they both seem chill… not everyone’s gonna cling for clout

lecfosi16 wasn’t she supposed to be at the garage? hmm

→ f1wagsofficial I think she was in the garage for quali, rest of the time she was I the club with his mother.

username2 first the kiss leak, now this… they were never meant to be.

maxlanaupdates maybe it’s to avoid giving the press too much too soon?

tifosiangel not y’all assuming they’re breaking up cause she showed up in her own car 😭

alana.miller

📍Monaco Grand Prix

maxlanaupdates

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maxlanaupdates Max and Alana shows up at paddock together. Also Alana was also spotted going to the garage with his mother.

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redbullbabe33 She fits in like she’s been there all the time.

maxlanaschild Her walking ahead to give the journalists space to interview max.

wifeverstappen Max isn’t smiling like that… he looks tired not happy.

username1 Max really upgraded tbh 👀

trulylandhoe I feel like Lando’s definitely teasing Max about this rn 😂

maxyfanforever She got the mom approval y’all. IT’S REAL.

username2 Can she chill for one race? Just one?

teamalanam The way she waved at the cameras all sweetly 🥹

tracktales Too fast, too PR-coded for me.

TO LANDO'S PARTY

Max was behind the wheel, one hand gripping the steering lightly, the other resting on the gearshift. He hadn’t spoken in a few minutes, just the soft hum of the engine and occasional chatter from the outside world slipping through the barely cracked window.

Alana glanced sideways at him. His jaw was clenched, eyes fixed on the road, but not in the angry way she’d feared.

"You good?" she asked gently.

He nodded, but then shook his head. "Not really. P4 feels like a loss when you’ve been fighting for the top since round one."

"You drove hard," she offered. "It wasn’t your fault, strategy was all over the place."

Max sighed. "It’s not even about the position anymore. I just... I don’t feel like I’m enjoying it right now."

Alana stayed quiet for a beat, then said, "You’re allowed to be tired of something, even if you’re good at it."

He gave a soft, humorless laugh. "Problem is, I’m expected to be good at it. No room for tired."

The car rolled to a slow stop at a red light. Max leaned back, drumming his fingers lightly against the steering wheel.

"But hey," he said suddenly, the corner of his mouth twitching up. "Lando won today! That made it better. I saw how happy he was when he got out of the car."

Alana smiled. "He deserves it."

"Yeah. I told him after the cooldown lap. ‘Bout time someone shut us all up." He chuckled.

She said, adjusting her hair in the rearview. "Finally, You've stopped sulking."

He shot her a sideways look. “I’m not sulking. You’re annoying."

"But I'm right."

The light turned green. He shifted gears and they eased forward, city lights starting to flicker more vibrantly now that dusk was sliding in.

"Thanks for not letting Anna push me much today," Max said quietly, eyes on the road. "I know you probably had content to post but-"

Alana tilted her head. "You think I care about posting when you’re this grumpy?"

"I’m not grumpy."

"You’re very moody." She poked his dimple. He didn’t argue that one. Just smiled faintly as they turned toward the coastline, Lando’s party venue coming into view in the distance, lights already blaring.

alana.miller

tagged : maxverstappen1, landonorris

landonorris

tagged : maxverstappen1, alana.miller

caption: MAMA YE PAPA

maxverstappen1

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maxverstappen1 I’ve been replaced from the favourite to the second favourite.

tagged: alana.miller, victoriaverstappen

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alana.miller You’ll always be my favorite, grump.

victoriaverstappen The babies adore her, what can I say? 😌

→ alana.miller I adore you all 💗

wagsexpose101 Who brings a full look to a family dinner if not for the cameras?

maxxalana.fp This is the content we needed. Thank you Max 🙏🏼

landonorris You’re lucky to even be second now tbh.

alana.miller In my defence, I give better cuddles and lots of snacks. 🐣

→ maxverstappen1 Where are mine?

→ alana.miller Get done with the sim fast

→ maxverstappen1 You dont know how fast I can be 😏

username1 They’re such a soft couple, my heart can’t take it.

wifeyverstappen Look how uncomfortable the kids are 😣

f1wagsdaily Jos leaving max at the gas station again because he's p2 in his family's favourite hierarchy now...

username2 Can we get a moment without the “look how perfect she is” rollout?

alanamiller4ever Her with Max's niece 🥺

username3 Them flirting in the comments was not on my bingo card for 2025

alana.miller

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others

alana.miller Monaco Memories 📸🩶

tagged: maxverstappen1, victoriaverstappen

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maxverstappen1 You can't gang up with my cats against me.

→ alana.miller You're in my team first 😘

victoriaverstappen Monaco’s finest 🤩

wifeyverstappen Tell me you're a gold digger bitch with telling me you're a gold digger bitch.

kikagomes Cutie, we should hang out sometimes?

→ alana.miller Absolutely !!

username1 Mother is mothering the cats, kids ad Max.

username2 No one’s life is this perfect.

alanamiller.fp That dock photo made me sob. She’s such a softie 🥺

landonorris J and S chose their queen and we all bow

username3 All this for a girl Max met less than three months ago…

lilymhe adorableeee💕

alanaxmaxie Her and Max feel like endgame.

maxrbfanclub Max blink twice if you’re being PR-managed.

alanamillerdaily Max can you fight?

SPANISH GRAND PRIX, BARCELONA - JUNE 2025

The backdrop was loud, engines cooling, crews moving gear, fans still chanting names in the distance.

Max, helmet off and fireproofs unzipped to his waist, stood in front of the Red Bull hospitality wall. Reporters swamping around him to get content after the disappointing race.

“Max, obviously not the result you’d hoped for today, P10 after a tough weekend. Do you think your very public relationship with a model might be affecting your focus?”

Everything froze for just a second too long. Max’s jaw clenched. He looked directly at the reporter. Then took a step closer.

“Let me be very clear, my personal life has nothing to do with what happens on track. My girlfriend anything but a distraction. She's very supportive and keeps me grounded in ways most people wouldn’t understand.” His cold tone intimidated the reporter who gulped down and quivered back a little.

The paddock quieted a little around him. “If I finish P10, that’s on me and the car, not on the person who’s stood beside me through every frustrating weekend and still shows up with the same energy and belief.”

He took another breath, running a hand through his hair, still damp under the sun. “I’ll take responsibility for every race result. But don’t ever reduce a woman’s presence in a man’s life to a distraction just because it fits your headline.”

And with that, he gave a short nod to the Red Bull comms manager and walked off with his jaw tight.

RED BULL HOSPITALITY, BARCELONA - JUNE 2025

The door to the Red Bull hospitality swung open a little too sharply, catching the attention of everyone inside.

Max strode in, lips pressed into a hard line. A few heads turned, but no one said anything.

Alana stood near the coffee bar, laughing softly with Geri, Christian Horner's wife, one hand holding a bottle of water, the other brushing her hair behind her ear. Her smile made him feel like everything outside that moment could wait.

Max exhaled slowly. Without a word, he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Alana jolted slightly in surprise, then relaxed instantly into his arms.

“Hi,” she whispered with a soft laugh, reaching up to place her hand over his.

Geri’s brows lifted slightly, but she smiled knowingly. “Hello Max. I’ll give you two a minute,” she murmured before excusing herself.

Alana leaned her head slightly toward his shoulder, smiling gently. “You okay?” she asked, keeping her voice low, not wanting to push him. She assumed it was the frustrating P10.

Max didn’t say anything. Instead, he just buried his face into the crook of her neck for a beat, breathing in. Alana’s brows furrowed a little, her instincts kicking in.

Still, she didn’t ask again. She just slipped her hand behind his back and began rubbing slow, soothing circles against the tense line of muscle just above his spine.

Max’s grip on her eased just slightly. “Come on, Let's get back to the hotel.” she murmured after a moment, lacing their fingers as they stepped out of the hospitality, the early evening sun casting long shadows down the paddock.

As they made their way to the parking lot, Alana didn’t rush asking questions. She knew how heavy he was feeling and didn't need someone to poke him right now.

alana.miller

liked by maxverstappen1, kikagomez and others

alana.miller 🍒🇪🇸✨

tagged: maxverstappen1, kikagomez, lilymhe, lilyzneimer, carmenmundt, flavybarla

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maxverstappen1 Still stamina‑checked by churros ❤️

→ alana.miller 😳

→ lando.norris 🤮 eww get a room

→ maxverstappen1 we already did. Bye ✌🏻

lilyzneime when are we doing another girls’ day?

→ alana.miller As soon as our fanboys stop being clingy. Sure...

→ lilymhe frrrr

wagscentral We loved a cultured girl 😌

flavybarla this Monday deserves a mini vlog 😌

→ alana.miller best monday

alanahatereww no one asked for 8 photos

→ alanapretty no one asked for your opinion lol

kellypiquetlove Max downgraded y’all just scared to say it

kikagomez barcelona dumped and slayed.

→ alana.miller 💕

username1 Her and Max are my Roman Empire

maxlanaforever i just know max has that 3rd pic as his lock screen

lilymhe PhD in ig dumps.

→ alana.miller graduated with valedictory.

zendaya suddenly i need to book a barcelona flight

→ alana.miller @/tomholland2013 Listen to ur wife.

→ tomholland2013 Sure Ma'am.

f1truthbombs influencer energy is so off-putting in F1

maxlanaupdates They stayed Monday and Tuesday to explore the city instead of going to Montreal or back to Monaco 🥹

username2 They're so cheeky and flirty. I can't 😭

maxielovebot trying hard to be interesting lol

alanamillerfpmodel The vroom vroom boy treating our girl right 🫶🏽

MAX'S HOTEL ROOM, BARCELONA - JUNE 2025

Anna tapped her pen against a Red Bull-branded notepad, scanning the week’s headlines on her tablet while Lexi sat poised, legs crossed, notes already highlighted in pastel pink.

Max was slouched in a chair near the window, in his Red Bull polo. Alana sat on the edge of the bed.

“Alright,” Anna began, sliding her tablet across the table. “The race day fallout is manageable, but the clip of the interview is gaining traction.”

Max didn’t flinch. “Good. He deserved to be shut down.”

Lexi gave a small nod of approval. “Your response plays well in your favor. We’ve already flagged and slowed a few of the harsher edits circulating. But you two need to recalibrate what’s public and what’s not.”

“I didn’t plan to say anything,” Max muttered. “But I’m not going to let her being bullied or frowned down like this” He waved a hand vaguely.

Alana looked at him quietly. Lexi cleared her throat. “It’s good that you’re comfortable. But now we have to be intentional. Especially with the next race and the movie premiere.”

Anna adjusted her glasses. “Speaking of... Max, are we still holding on your travel plans for Montreal?”

“No,” he said. “I want her there.”

That landed heavy in the room. Alana blinked once. “You want me at the Canadian GP?”

He looked at her directly now. “Yes. After the way Barcelona ended… I want you there.”

Lexi glanced at her client, gauging her reaction. Alana didn’t smile, but she gave the smallest nod.

“Fine by me,” Lexi said, scribbling it into her planner. “That actually works better for the timeline. You both land in Canada wednesday morning, stay through the weekend. On Monday you fly to New York for the premiere with Christian, Geri and Yuki”

Alana tilted her head, brushing her hair behind her ear slowly. “If I show up for Canada and the premiere… you’re coming to my Dior collection launch.”

There was a beat of silence. Max met her eyes. “Done.”

Anna blinked. “You’ll be in Paris?”

“I’ll be in Paris,” he confirmed, glancing sideways at Lexi. “Send me the details.”

Lexi didn’t hide her surprise, just jotted it down on her planner.

“So,” Anna summarised, exhaling. “Montreal GP with joint press coverage. NYC F1 premiere, coordinated entrance, brief interaction on-camera. Then Dior’s Paris launch.”

“And after that,” Lexi said, “You two owe each other absolutely nothing… for at least 72 hours.”

Alana let out a quiet laugh. “Oh Thank God!”

Max rolled his eyes as she smirked playfully. He stood up rolling his shoulders back. “I'll see you in Montreal.”

MAX AND ALANA'S ROOM, MONTREAL - JUNE 2025

The adjoining door creaked open at exactly 10:43 a.m., like it always did whenever she entered without knocking.

Max was sitting on the armrest of the couch in his room, still half-dressed in team shirt with a towel wrapped around his waist. hair towel-dried and sticking up slightly in the back. His lanyard lay discarded on the table next to his phone.

Alana stepped in like she lived there. “Just wanted to let you know I’m heading out for brunch with the girls,” she said, adjusting her twisted pendent in the mirror while he went back inside to wear his skinny jeans, Alana wishes to burn someday.

Max gave a slow nod, glancing at the mirror as he ran his hand through his hair halfheartedly. “Hmm. Lando offered to have dinner together.”

"Sure." Alana smiled faintly. “Don’t let them get under your skin.” She looked at him in the eye and straightened the collar of his shirt.

He looked over. “They won’t.”

“They will,” she corrected. “It’s media day. That's what they do.”

He huffed something that resembled a laugh. She picked up the Red Bull cap he’d tossed onto the coffee table and walked over to him, adjusting the peak slightly before pressing it into his hands.

“And if anyone brings up Monaco or Barcelona,” she added, tilting her head as she met his eyes, “Just say something vague, and walk away. Don't rage on them.”

He gave a slow blink. “You sound like my PR manager.”

“I should be,” she muttered under her breath, patting is arm. Max didn’t move.

She glanced at the time on his wall clock, then stepped up and leaned in. Her mouth brushing softly against his cheek, like it was a habit.

“Don’t cause trouble before brunch is over,” she said, grabbing the tote bag from the back of the chair.

Max came back to his senses and shyly muttered “I won’t.”

“You always say that.” And with that, she slipped back into her room, the door closing quietly behind her.

Max sat back on the couch and stared at the cap in his hand, the ghost of her kiss still warm on his cheek.

MONTREAL, CANADA - JUNE 2025

The brunch spot was tucked into a cobbled corner of Montreal. The five women had claimed a table near the window, half inside, half open to the breeze.

Alana sat between Flavy and Kika, long legs crossed, sipping her citrus drink. Their laughter flowed easily, until the tone shifted.

It started when two girls, maybe mid-twenties, who sat at the table behind them with red bull merch on, one of them holding her phone angled just enough to not look like she was recording.

Alana noticed them. It came like a sixth sense to notice cameras, after the becoming a public figure.

She didn’t say anything, but Flavy leaned over and muttered, “Ignore it.”

Then came the whispers. Loud enough to be intentional, soft enough to feign innocence. “She’s literally everywhere now. Like, why is she even in Canada?”

“I mean, Max is totally being managed. You can see it in his interviews, he looks drained.”

“She’s just another PR stunt. A stylish one, but still fake.” The table fell quiet for a moment.

Alana didn’t flinch. She calmly reached for the small silver butter knife and spread jam onto her toast.

Flavy glanced at her. “You good?”

“Peachy,” Alana said with a soft smile.

A few minutes passed. More laughter, more food, more ignoring the noise.

Until the girls stood up and approached their table, all too friendly now.

“Hi! Sorry to interrupt, but—” the taller one smiled too wide, “we’re huge Max fans, and we brought this little gift for him.”

She held out a small box, red ribbon wrapped around it. The other one chimed in, “Would you mind giving it to him? You know, since you’re… with him?”

“And maybe a quick selfie? You look sooo pretty!”

Kika blinked. Lily stared. Carmen looked like she might throw her coffee.

Alana smiled, sweetly and slowly rose, brushing crumbs off her cream skirt, and accepted the gift with delicate fingers.

“Of course,” she said smoothly. “I’d be happy to pass this along.”

The girls beamed. “But just a quick note—” Alana tilted her head, stepping just slightly closer, “next time you want to dissect a woman’s relevance, maybe don’t do it at the table directly behind her while wearing merch from the man she just kissed goodbye this morning.”

The girls’ faces paled instantly. Alana didn't stop smiling. She stepped back and handed her phone to Lily with a knowing look. “Shall we?”

The selfie was snapped, awkward but civil. The girls mumbled thanks and quickly retreated, muttering apologies that didn’t reach past their teeth.

alanamiller

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alanamiller Rooting only for the best 🤞🏼

tagged: maxverstappen1, redbullracing

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maxverstappen1 ❤️💙

→ alana.miller 😘

kikagomes queen of showing up and showing OUT

→ alana.miller Why hide such a masterpiece when you can flaunt 💁🏻‍♀️

alanamilfan rooting for her like she roots for him.

maxverstappen1 Stealing my kit so I have more casuals. Wow.

→ alana.miller Love You too 🫶🏽

f1sippingtea Her and Carman cheering for their boys together 🥺

redbullracing No one could slay the RB t-shirt better then you ☺️❤️

→ alana.miller It's totally my colour right !? 🥺

maxsrealwife you’re not the main character. he is.

→ alana.miller Always ❤️

→ username1 kdhckdsuvcouwa

→ maxlanaschild Gurl-

carmenmundt Goerge isn't taking you getting all the attention well 😂

→ alana.miller Sassy little bitch

→ georgerussell 🙄

username2 imagine treating fans like garbage and then posting this like nothing happened

flavybarla This is giving First Lady of Red Bull 🫡

madformax33 you were SO sweet to the little girl in the paddock 😭😭😭

victoriaverstappen Bests💙

→ alana.miller 💙

verstappenlion still convinced this is a PR thing...

alanamiller

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alanamiller off track & in the moment 🍁

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maxverstappen1 Why do I agree to roam around everywhere. I HATE IT.

→ landonorris You love my company. Admit it ☺️

→ alana.miller Delulando. We allowed you to hang around so we could get pictures 😂

→ landonorris 🖕🏻

→ maxverstappen1 LANDO NORRIS!

lilymhe she said “casually thriving”

zendaya cutiessss ❤️

landonorris No PC? You're such a hater 😒

→ alana.miller Cry me a river 😂

verstappensgirl she’s trying SO hard to stay relevant

username1 i miss when wags stayed in the background 😴

maxlanacontent He made it to the first pic of the dump 🥺

danielricciardo jimmy and sassy wants to know your location 😾🔫

→ alana.miller Nooo. Love my babies unconditional!!

→ mamamax She's a keeper verstappen!!!

alanafansforever Yes Max. Keep her protected like that. Good boy.

maxlovergirl87 this is literally staged lol

username2 Girl got Max to touch grass after he started Maxplaining the race to her 😭 ♥︎ by author

→ maxlanaupdates 😂 Alana Liked

→ username2 She's so unhinged. I love her !

simp4alana Red Bull Sales 📈

lanmaxdo Alana bullying Lando was not on my 2025 bingo...

maxverstappen1

🎵 Welcome to New York. Taylor Swift

alana.miller

📍New York City, NY

MAX AND ALANA'S HOTEL ROOM, NEW YORK - JUNE 2025

Alana Miller Gets Ready for the F1 Movie Premiere | Vogue USA

Alana sat on a velvet stool by the window, sipping cold-brew out of a takeout cup. Her skin glowed from the spa she and max went to in the morning. Max was fresh out of shower in a white robe choosing from the three suits brought in for him.

“I’ll be camera ready in… probably 45 minutes,” she smiled, looking into the lens before tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Or two hours if Max has anything to say about it.”

The shot shifted, her vanity scattered with Dior products, pins, palettes, and sticky notes scribbled with touch-up reminders. Her hairstylist, Allen, was sectioning her hair while her makeup artist prepped her skin with moisturiser. On the couch nearby, her stylist was steaming a black gown.

“I’ve been a fan of F1 since I was a kid,” Alana said as the camera slowly pushed in, capturing her reflection in the mirror, back straight, brows being brushed. “My mom was the one who introduced it to me when I was young, and since she worked in automative engineering, she used to tell me all the technical stuff.”

The crew asked which team was her favourite. She laughed lightly, eyes flicking to the stylist’s rack of shoes. “I had a Ferrari poster in my room. Now switched to Red Bull because… well.” She pointed back at her boyfriend.

The crew chuckled off-camera. Max, sitting on the bed behind her in the black suit muttered dryly while wearing his shoes.

"You've been to so many red carpet events and movie premieres. What excites you about this one?"

Alana didn’t even look back, just smirked, “Well, My boyfriend was an extra in tonight’s film. I don't know if they kept his scenes because of his acting skills but if he is, Blink and you’ll miss him.”

A subtle camera zoom on Max. He flicked a Red Bull cap at her and mouthed “rude” with a grin.

“This one’s different,” Alana continued, voice softer. “This one’s… home turf. I know these drivers. I know the stress behind the screens. I’ve seen the grit in the garages. So It'll be great to see the representation.”

They took a break so she could go and get changed in her dress. As she came out. Max came up to her to get his shirt fixed. He mumbled "You look really beautiful and really hot." She punched him before fixing his collar.

"How have you two worked with your busy schedule and still find time for each other?"

Her voice continued as she went back to pick her jewellery. “Max and I keep very different schedules but we try to keep some shared routine like get lunch together if we’re in the same city, talk about our day before sleep even if it’s just on the phone. I didn't have much on my plate since the fashion week season ended a while ago so I went to a few races. He'll try to come to a few shows or events when he can.”

Alana moved to sit on the edge of a chair, holding her heels as her team bustled around her.

“Okay,” she said, gesturing toward the room. “This is Allen, she was in my team since I joined my first agency. Malik’s my makeup artist, Sheiba isn't here today but usually it's the two of them. Daisy is my stylist with Dior.” She gave a tiny wave to her stylist steaming the dress.

“And” she glanced to the side, where Max was quietly chatting with his manager by the minibar. “That’s Max. My boyfriend. And over there is Raymond, his manager.”

The camera zoomed to Max raising his hand imitating her as he approached her. “Bye, Vogue.” Alana laughed as she put on her shoes.

vogueusa

alanamiller

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alanamiller Lights on and away we glam 🖤

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maxverstappen1 If it was upto me we wouldn't even be attending the event 😉

→ alana.miller I'm right next to you. you didn't have to be so public🫠

→ landonorris For the love of god there are children on this app. YOU PERVERT!!

→ maxverstappen1 🤷🏼‍♂️

babickovaeli very into this femme fatale era 🖤

→ alana.miller 🫶🏽

alanastylecloset I would personally like to thank her makeup artist and the gown designer for this global gift.

yukitsunoda0511 Max wearing things other than redbull kit is weird.

→ alana.miller I can be quite persuasive 😁

→ maxverstappen1 Yeah you threatened to burned my kit if I didn't comply 🙇🏻‍♂️

kikagomes Gorgeous 🖤

f1tracktrash funny how she’s suddenly SO into F1 now that she’s dating the champ 🤡

landonorris Show Stealers!!!

lestappen4ever They’re making her the main character when it’s literally a movie premiere not about her 😭

victoriaverstappen danger couple 🔥

maxlanaupdates THE KISS 😭🥺🥵

maxverstappenwifey Girl cover up this is a movie premiere not a whore house show!!

damsonidris Damn girl, I could never serve so hard 😭

→ alana.miller You were literally the main character. STOPPP

lilymhe @/maxverstappen Can you fight 😁🥊

→ maxverstappen1 You bet 😡

→ alana.miller OK OK OK... No need to start a war here...

→ maxverstappen1 I'd start ww3 for you.

→ alana.miller Max. Don't.

→ maxverstappen1 I. Would.

alonamiller the most personality she’s shown is her back 🙃

maxmaxsupermax She gave max a major glow up 😭

alanaxangles The fact that she made the caption about F1. My creative goddess

paddockdevilwags One kiss doesn’t make this a love story, let’s chill.

kellymaxperfect You have a boyfriend but still wears such clothes to attest attention. Kelly would've never dressed like this🙄

modelsdailytea Dior does her so right!!!!!

maxverstappen1 If my girl being so hot bother you. You can get off her page 😒

→ alana.miller What happened to you 😭. Max you need to stop. pleaseeee

→ maxverstappen1 Never 👎

lanabananasupremacy max better thank the universe every night. every. single. night.

MAX AND ALANA'S HOTEL ROOM, NEW YORK - JUNE 2025

The hotel room was quiet except for the sound of traffic from the street below. Max and Alana was sitting back against the headboard, scrolling through his phone with a clenched jaw, eyes scanning comment after comment on Alana's page either calling them out as a PR or blatantly hating on her for no reason.

Alana watched him from the other side of the bed, eyes narrowing as he typed back on her comment section. She tried to end his comments with a funny reply but he didn't stop. Without warning, she reached over and snatched the phone out of his hands.

“Hey—” Max reached out to take it back, but she dodged him effortlessly, tossing it somewhere behind her.

“Nope,” she said, swinging one leg over and straddling him before he could shift. “Now you’re stuck.”

Max looked up at her, breath hitching just slightly, like he hadn’t expected her to sit that close. She tucked her legs around his so he couldn’t move.

He blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yes. You’ve been grumpy since I posted on Instagram. Why are you being so… passive aggressive?” she asked, eyebrows raised. “This is supposed to be a fun night.”

His jaw tightened again, but the frustration had a different tint to it now. “People don’t get to say that kind of shit about you, Alana. Especially when they know nothing about you.”

Alana scoffed, her voice rising. “Okay, but maybe I don’t need you to go full knight in shining armour every time someone online has a bad opinion—!”

“You think it doesn’t get to me?” he interrupted, quieter than her but sharper. “You think I’m just supposed to let people talk about you like that?”

“It wouldn't look good on our end, Max,” she snapped, her voice trembling as she leaned in, “I need you to trust that I can handle it—”

A strand of hair fell out of the clip at the back of her head. She was mid-rant when he reached up and gently pushed it behind her ear, fingers brushing her cheek.

She stopped mid-sentence, her breath hitched. “What are you doing?” she asked, voice suddenly small.

He didn’t answer. Instead, Max pulled her to his chest, arm wrapped firm around her waist as his lips met hers, full of passion.

When he pulled back, his hands came to cradle her face, and he kissed her forehead soft and slow.

It broke something in her. “What the hell was that?”, she snapped. Alana pushed off his lap, her voice breaking just slightly as she stood, stumbling back like the air had shifted too suddenly.

“Alana—” Max stood, his voice low.

“You can’t do that, Max!” she shouted, not caring if the entire floor heard her.

“I wasn’t thinking—” he started, stepping toward her.

“No, you weren’t!” she cut in, swatting his hand away when he tried to reach for hers.

She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and stormed toward the door. Max didn’t stop her. He just stood there, chest rising and falling a little too fast, fists clenched at his sides.

She left. And for a long minute, the room stayed very, very quiet.

HOTEL'S BAR, NEW YORK - JUNE 2025

The bar was mostly empty. Dim lighting pooled in soft gold over scattered high tables and the long marble counter. Low jazz played through old speakers.

The only other people were a cluster of businessmen laughing too loudly in a booth and a woman sitting on a barstool, hunched slightly over a glass of red.

Alana slid onto another, deliberately leaving a seat between them. She needed space and so did the lady, by looking at her sad demeanour.

Max’s name lit up her phone again. Call after call. Text after text. She stared at the screen, lips tightening, then flipped it on silent and tossed it into her purse.

Running both hands through her hair, she exhaled and flagged down the bartender. “One spicy martini. Heavy on the jalapeños.”

The bartender raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Just nodded and turned.

Her pulse was still racing. Her chest felt too tight. She didn’t know if she was angry at Max or angry at herself for caring so much.

She heard the ice shake in the shaker. The click of glasses being set on the counter.

“Man?” a voice said beside her.

Alana glanced over, surprised the other woman had spoken. The stranger didn’t look at her, just kept her eyes on her wine glass, twirling the stem between her fingers. Her accent was faintly Indian.

Alana gave a dry laugh. “That obvious?”

The woman turned then and Alana’s eyes widened slightly. She recognized her. “Wait... You’re Gia Kapoor, right? One of the producers of the F1 Movie?”

Gia smiled faintly, her expression tired but not unfriendly. “Guilty. And you're Alana Miller. I attended a few fashion week where you modelled. And tonight, girlfriend of the fastest driver.”

Alana scoffed, taking a sip of her martini. “Apparently.”

Gia raised a brow. “Apparently?”

There was a pause. Then Gia shifted slightly on her stool, angling toward her. “I didn’t mean to pry,” she said. “But... if it makes you feel better, I came down here because I’m confused about a guy, too.”

Alana blinked. “Seriously?”

Gia nodded. “Our parents got us arranged. We’ve been ‘engaged’ for a while. We didn’t even meet until a month ago.” She laughed lightly. “And it turns out… Ive had a crush on him since a long time. He’s funny and very mature.”

Alana listened quietly, sipping her martini.

“But,” Gia continued, fingers tapping her glass, “he told me after our engagement that he doesn’t think he can give me what I want. That he’s too tied up in his career. Too unsure of what love even looks like in this world.”

Alana’s expression softened. “Asshole. But what can I say I'm stuck in the same spiral.”

Gia looked at her. “But aren’t you and Max together?”

Alana hesitated. “No,” she said finally. “Well yes, but it’s… complicated. We started off as PR.”

“But?” Gia asked.

“But tonight, upstairs, he kissed me like it wasn’t fake. And then he acted like it meant something. And I’m not sure if it did.” Alana’s voice cracked slightly at the end. She laughed bitterly. “And I hated how much I wanted it to mean something.”

Gia was quiet for a moment. Then she smiled, slow and knowing “Alana, I was at the premiere. I saw you two together. I’ve seen people in love.” She looked straight at her. “What you and Max have? That wasn’t for show.”

Alana opened her mouth, but Gia held up a hand. “I’m quite a romantic. How can I complain, I grew up around the film industry and it comes like inherited trait. I could tell, he looks at you like you hung the moon.”

Alana stared down at her drink. “Talk to him,” Gia said gently. “ If there’s a real shot at something… you shouldn’t run from it just because it started out written in fine print.”

Alana didn’t answer. She just sat there, eyes blurry and still, then gave a slow nod.

They continued talking for a while before she put the bill of her three martinis on Max's tab. He deserves this after what he did.

Gia stood, dropping a few bills on the bar with a casual flick of her hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you up. You’re on twelve, right?”

Alana blinked. “Yeah. How’d you—?”

Gia grinned. “My fiancé is on the same floor, so I saw max when I went to his room before.”

Alana slid off the stool, smoothing down the folded hem of her pyjama shirt.

As they reached the elevator, Gia pulled out her phone. “Give me your number.”

Alana arched a brow. Gia smirked. “Support group for women entangled with emotionally repressed, work-obsessed men. We should be friends.”

" Of course" Alana laughed again and gave it. The elevator opened, and they stepped in. Once on twelve, Gia stepped out with her. “Which one’s yours?”

“1216,” Alana said, pointing to the right. "We have to share the room tonight."

Gia made a face. “You poor thing."

They walked together in silence until they reached her door. Gia stopped. “You good?”

Alana nodded. “Actually, can I come over to yours, if its alright either way you”

Gia shrugged, then pulled her into a brief hug "— the kind that didn’t feel forced, just warm and real. "Come on. I have some takeouts leftovers. We can watch a movie too."

taglist: @livelaughleclerc, @ale-522, @zulema222, @angelluv16, @kazansky-slxt, @formulaal, @esw1012, @ohwhoisyou-rubyjane, @freyathehuntress, @sltwins, @gabrielaperez11, @gigicisneros, @guacala

[message/comment/ask to be added]

#f1 smau #max verstappen #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen au #max verstappen imagine #carlos sainz #max verstappen fanfic #max vertsappen fic #max verstappen angst #max verstappen x girlfriend #max verstappen smut #max verstappen smau #lando norris #redbullracing #max verstappen x model #red bull f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x female oc

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ouran1a · 5 months ago

Note

YEAHHH U WRITE FOR CHUBBY READERS ? may you write something about pete with a chubby s/o ? sfw or nsfw is fineee

mmph this is so late i’m so sorry babycakes :(

18+, afab reader, pete is a short mf with tiny hands, blood/marking, technically autoerotic asphyxiation hehe

y’all i used fuck like a million times i’m SORRY. like=fuck for me idk idk idk idk

everything with pete is so fucking messy and he fucking loves it.

kisses are filled with nipping and spit and moans, greedy little hands always roaming and groping and pinching and squishing, sex was full of screaming and tears and cum and blood,

but you sitting on his face might be his favorite.

thick thighs shaking and covered in ugly fucking yellow and purple bruises and bites, blood still leaking from the deep teeth marks he’d left, your cunt just centimeters away from his hooked nose and salivating mouth, your blood and slick still shining on his cracked lips.

He scoffed quietly at your hovering, landing a heavy swat to your ass and relishing in the breathy gasp you let out, “‘s called face-sitting, ma, not this shit yer doin’” he chided. his tone was so fucking smug and arrogant, hands warm as he pinched and squeezed the pockets of chub along your hips, thumbs pushing down on your hanging tummy while he tried to drag you down to actually sit in his face.

you squirmed, body vibrating with an intoxicating mix of pleasure and dull pain, your flushed face was pulled into a grimace, baby hairs stick to your sweat slicked skin, “don’t wanna fucking break you neck, baby..” another smack to your ass, god that one was gonna leave a welt. pete yanked in your hips again, internally fuming at the fact he couldn’t force your hips down with just his brute strength, “i’ll bite yer fuckin’ clit off if you don’t” another hard yank, you drop just a bit more, “sit th’fuck down,”

seconds pass and you stay still hovering, so naturally, pete’s mouth starts running, “fuckin’ tease.” he snarled, angling his head up to nip and lick at your puffy cunt lips, “gonna touch n’ rub all up on me then pussy out when ‘m right fuckin’” he nudged your clit with his nose, grinning like a fucking maniac at your soft moan, feeling your thighs give a bit more, “hmm— ‘m right here, don’t fuckin’ keep my pussy from me,”

his voice was muffled by your thighs and yet it it still felt like he was talking right in your fucking ear, “jus’ cause your lame ass ex couldn’t man up n’ eat this fat cunt don’t mean i won’t,” pinching just above the inside of your knees, pete gets you just lost enough to finally sit you down in him, moaning like a bitch at the feeling of your full weight pressing in him.

immediately, you’re gasping and yanking at that short black hair, you can feel his nose smushed against the sensitive little bundle of nerves and his tongue slotted as deep as he can get it in you, you can still hear his fucking slurping and sucking, such a nasty fucking sound. His hands are constantly moving, one almost mindlessly feeling up your side, becoming you to curl down so he can flick and pinch your pebbled nipple while the other wrapped around his weeping cock, red and almost angry.

pete felt like he was fucking floating, he couldn’t breathe at all, throat closed and nose covered by your juicy cunt, his cock was throbbing, already so fucking close just from a few strokes. he was getting lightheaded, could feel your hips rocking back and forth, down into his face, using him to get yourself off. he could hear your muffled moans, hardly audible through your tummy and fat legs suffocating him, the sounds shot right to his dick, legs squirming and hips desperately humping up into his hand.

you got lost in the feeling, mind blank except for the friction of his nose and mouth against your cunt, the almost ticklish touch of pete sucking and lazily biting your lips. you didn’t even notice him cum, painting his hand and stomach in spunk while you just grinded harder and harder down into his face. pete didn’t try to pull you off, both hands now gripping your thighs, blunt nails leaving angry red marks all in the soft skin.

the band in your belly was pulled taut, you were at the cusp of your orgasm, one hand shakily gripping the headboard while the other yanked at his hair, “o-oh! i’mm’onna c-cum— ohmygod i’m gonna cum s-so fucking ha-ard!” all it took to snap the string was pete angling that fucking nose and wrapping his lips around your pulsing clit, nipping and biting the fucking thing.

you screamed, actually screamed, as your hips stilled, shaking and panting and sweating while your cunt gushed on his face. pete slurped it all up, blood trickling down from where his nails had broken skin while you moaned and gently rocked your hips to ride it out.

after a while you tried to lift off his face, only to gasp in pain when pete’s razors of teeth nipped your cunt lip again, beady little eyes glaring up at you, “sit th’fuck back down,” hand suddenly stronger than your limp thighs pulled you back down, “‘m not fuckin’ done with m’pussy.”

#pete dinunzio #the eltingville club #[starring: pete dinunzio]#pete dinunzio x reader #eltingville club x reader #x fat reader #x chubby reader #i listened to Wesley’s Theory the ENTIRE time i wrote this btw #I NEED TO ORACTICE WRITJNG MORE NASTY #someone teach me how to write more disgusting shit PLEASE OLEASE OLEASE #lowk don’t like this ;(#[rated r]

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chaacakez · 1 month ago

Text

“You Could’ve Just Asked.“

MDNI.

(f!reader)

The creak of the door was soft, but it was enough. He flinched. Frozen like a deer caught in headlights. Eyes wide, breath held. His hand was still between his thighs, slow strokes halted mid-motion. Moving his hand an inch away from his pre-cum slickened cock. You just blinked at him first.

You huffed and raised an eyebrow at the scene. Looking him up and down, Finding it quite pathetic already.

“Oh?” you hummed, leaning against the doorframe. Crossing your arms over your chest along with a small head tilt of disapproval, “You serious right now..?”

His face flushed immediately. A deep red rushed across his cheeks, down his neck. His other hand shot over himself, like he could hide the obvious mess between his legs. His boxers were tugged low, cock twitching, tip soaked, chest rising like he’d been at it a while already. Looking away from you in guilt by being caught in the act.

“I-It isn't-” he stammered, voice cracking like a boy caught doing something dirty (this time, he really was). “Wasn’t tryna—fuck—shit, I-I didn’t hear you come in…” He admitted in his quiet defeat.

Your eyebrows fell flat this time now, pushing yourself off of the door frame and stepping closer, slow. Methodically. “You didn’t even lock the door. Were you hopin’ I’d catch you?”

He whimpered. No denial. Shaking already under your gaze, shoulders trembling. Lips quivering.

“Aww,” you cooed in false pity, eyes dropping to his lap. “Been jerkin’ it this whole time? Could hear those lil’ whines from the hall, y’know.”

He curled in on himself, hand clenching the sheets. Smalling himself down in embarrassment of the truth. Legs shaking meanwhile his dick twitched again. He was so hard it looked painful.

“L-look, I-fuck, I didn't mean for you to see...-” His voice turned soft, almost teary as he looked at you pathetically. Eyes searching for yours in this moment for a sense of understanding for his actions. “I just… couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you… n’ your voice… n’ the way you talk to me…”

You snickered lowly continuing your way towards the bed as you sit on the beds edge. Leaning over to him, making sure you got real close to him. Hand resting beside his head on the bed. “So needy you couldn’t wait? Couldn’t just ask me like a good boy, hmm?”

He whimpered again, eyes glossy, lip trembling just a bit. You saw the way his thighs twitched together for a second, the way his cock bobbed. He was close already. Had probably edged himself while whispering your name right before you came in.

“N-no! I-I tried, I swear, I-fuck-...fuck, I got too worked up…”

You clicked your tongue and ran a finger down his stomach, light and teasing. His hips jumped at the light sensation. “Tsk. Such a mess. Look at you…”

You tilted your head at him. Looking down into his lap where his achingly hard cock was. Taking your hand and ran your fingers across his flushed tip. He gasped when your fingers brushed over the tip. So sensitive, he almost cried. His head falling back as an strangled high pitch moan fell from his lips. His body shivering on contact.

“Bet you’d beg if I told you to.” You jokingly teased as you laughed at his pathetic behavior right now. But you knew it was the truth. He'd always beg for your touch. Especially right now, only wanting nothing but for you to help him with something he was caught trying to fix himself.

“P-please!-please, baby-I-I’ll do whatever, just-fuck!-I need it so bad, c-can’t think straight!”

“Hmm.. Not sure if I should help a bad boy who touches himself like that without permission..” You continued the torture of running your fingers against his tip, dragging slowly across his slit. Leaking with beaded pre-cum. Spreading it around the head of his dick.

His face crumbled. A low whine left him. His head hanging low as he gripped the sheet and crumbled them in his hands. Huffing out apologies. “I’m sorry! I-I swear I won’t do it again! J-just… please, touch me… lemme cum…”

You lifted your head and looked at him before taking his pleas into consideration. Then sliding your hand further down his dick, wrapping your fingers around his base. He choked on a moan. Immediately bucked into your grip like he’d been starved. Back arching and voice hitching.

“Goodness..baby,” you muttered, feeling how he throbbed, how sticky he already was.. “were you really about to make yourself cum like this? Humpin’ your hand like a bitch in heat?”

He whined high in his throat. “M’not...I’m not a bitch-just-fuck-I just missed you, wanted you so bad-n’ I-I got so hard n’ couldn’t-!”

“Shh,” you breathed, hushing him, pumping him slowly, more deliberately. “You want me to take care of you now, baby?” "Is that what you want pretty boy..?"

He nodded fast at your offering. Voice sounding breathless. “Y-yeah, yeah, please-gimme, I-I’ll be good, promise, promise! Fuck-”

Your grip tightened a little on him, and he cried out. You gave a few quick pumps, then stopped. His hips jerked up.

“Wait-w-wait, why’d you stop-?!”

“Your about to cum without askin’," pointing out how more pre-cum leaked from his tips slit falling down his base onto your finger that was holding his base. You murmured, moving your hand to rubbing just under the crown of his tip. The sight made you tsk at him. “Now you gotta earn it, sweetheart.”

“I-I can! I-I will-I-I’ll do anything-!” He shot up as he started begging you again. Pleading with you not to stop. He was close so soon.

You smile at his pleas for you. You began working him again, this time faster, meaner, and his hips snapped up on instinct. “That’s it,” you breathed, “needy lil’ thing, just wanna get used, huh?” You huff.

He whimpered. His head fell back against the headboard. “Y-yeah, yeah, please, use me, fuck!-m’so close—!” He moans out as his hands gripped at anything beside him, hips squirming, unraveling under you as he's close to releasing.

“Already?” you teased. Your tone bored and unamused. Gazing at him lazily, with an eyebrow at him. “And I barely touched you.”

“Can’t-can’t hold it-been holdin’ it in so long-!” He trembled. Thighs clenched together. Breathing becoming shallower. Eyes tightly closed shut. Lip quivering. He was genuinely trying to hold on a little longer for you.

“Then cum for me.” You leaned in closer to him, moving to force him to look at you by using your other hand to cup, and squeeze his jaw between your fingers. His eyes shot open as he looked at you. Finally said the words he was waiting to hear.

And oh, he did.

Hard.

Violently.

He bucked his hips, cried out, body tensing and shaking as he came in thick, messy spurts all over your hand, his stomach, even up to his chest. But you didn’t stop. You kept going. Continuing to stroke him. His head falling from your hand as it fell back.

He screamed.

“N-no, nghh!-baby! T-too much! m'-s-sensitive-!” He cried and whined out to you. Legs shaking.

“You said you’d do anything,” you just whispered against his ear. Pumping him through the overstimulation. “One lil’ orgasm and you’re already whining?” You asked, hand pumping only faster.

He sobbed. Truly sobbed. Clutched the sheets and thrashed his hips. His legs shook. “F-fuck! Can’t-c-can’t! I-I’m gonna-g-gonna cum again-!”

And he did. Again. Body convulsing, thighs trembling, back arching in pure, sweet agony. Crying out more. Hands pressing further into the sheets. Voice reverberating throughout the room serval times over.

You didn’t let up. You enjoyed this reaction. It's the best you've seen yet, you didn't stop. You licked your lips.

Wanting him until his voice was hoarse, his cock twitching, and he was trembling right under your hands. wet, panting, drooling a little, lips parted, tears in the corners of his eyes. Teeth clenching together.

“That's a good boy....” you whispered, brushing your lips against his sweat-drenched cheek. Pressing a sweet kiss against it.

He smiled weakly, dazed, blissed-out, ruined. Panting out, “T-thank you…”

Izuku Midoriya,Armin Arlert, Tamaki Amajiki, Shinazugawa Genya, Kazuha, Yuuta Okkotsu, Zenitsu Agatsuma Tanjiro Kamado, Itadori Yuuji, Kazuha,Tighnari

THANK YA FOR ALMOST LIKE… 400 NOTES ON THE LAST ONE MY SWEETCAKES ILYYYYYYYYSM!!!!💋💞

so happeh right naow 🥹 it’s 2 am writing this hehehehehe…

reblogs, likes, comments, any of that stuff is always appreciated... ⋆.𐙚 ̊

��(｡˃ ᵕ ˂)⸝♡

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wakeup01 · 2 years ago

Text

Two Twinks, One Wish

“So Charlie, what did you wish for Christmas?”

“Really? Can we just watch the movie?” I say, annoyed.

Daniel had been my boyfriend for about a month now and had recently moved into my flat, just in time for Christmas. Since then things had been a struggle, he would continually whine about my inadequacies - how I didn’t tidy enough, didn’t appreciate him and most of all how I was a terrible top.

See, the problem was, we were both twinks. We had the same skinny body type, with barely any muscle definition. The only real difference being he had the better ass. Admittedly, I had a severe lack of confidence in the bedroom, frequently failing to get in the mood. Daniel on the other hand was very particular about what he liked and what he expected.

“Come on! You must be able to think of something. God knows there’s enough things you can be better at…” Daniel chastised.

Even now he had turned a harmless movie night into another chance to take petty digs. We were on the couch watching some cheesy xmas film, where the protagonist makes wishes that magically come true. Now he was insisting for me to make some stupid wish.

“Why don’t you go first? You seem to have a lot of ideas in mind.” I shoot back, not taking my eyes off the screen.

“Hmm, I got the perfect one! Charlie, I wish… you were a better top!” He laughs and nudges into my shoulder.

I roll my eyes, of course, I should of guessed this is where things were heading. Ugh. Out of nowhere I feel a chill wash over my whole body and a tightness take hold in my chest. After a moment the feeling subsides.

“Very funny. Have you been thinking that one up all night.” My voice dripping in sarcasm.

I shift in my seat slightly, a dull warmth emanating from my crotch. I must be feeling unwell, I’m definitely not being turned on by his degrading remarks. But the heat doesn’t fade, in fact it only grows in intensity. I get the impulse to grope at my growing bulge, the tightness straining against my jeans. Daniel would never live it down If I did, but it was becoming rather uncomfortable.

“You look a little flustered there… ah. I see. Are you really getting horny from this? Christ, you’re pathetic.” Daniel scolds, reaching his hand down.

Before I can object he unzips my trousers and pulls down the waistband of my briefs. My cock bursts forth and slaps against my chest, pre already leaking from it’s tip. Except it’s not my cock, this monster is almost twice my normal size. And my balls are inflating in front of my very eyes.

“What the hell?” I shout.

“Woah, oh shit, it’s working. It’s a Christmas miracle!” He exclaims in barely contained glee.

“Daniel, what did you do!” My voice cracks.

My dick continues to snake up my torso, going from 5 inches, to 7 then to 8. As it grows, so does my hornyness, overpowering my head as I fall into a drunken stupor. This is the most intense erection I’ve ever felt. My hand rubs up and down the entire length and I attempt to wrap my fingers around it, before discovering its girth is now thicker than my hand.

“Nice cock ‘bro’. Good tops are well equipped downstairs. And now, you are too. Hahaha” I look over and see him smirk at me.

He’s enjoying this far too much for my liking, but I’m in no position to fight back. Why did he make that stupid wish, I better not be stuck with this forever. At this point I don’t think my cock would even fit into any underwear I own. How exactly can I walk around with this thing swinging between my legs.

“You know who makes good tops? Jocks. That cocky attitude and carefree nature, coasting through life without thinking.” Daniel suggests, wistfully.

Jocks are also narcissistic morons. And I’m certainly not going to be one just to be a better ‘top’. I’m suddenly distracted by a chafing from my rear, a pair of straps seem to be cupping the cheeks of my tight butt. Below my balls now sits a stained pouch, the smell of musk rising from it hits my nose and I recoil.

“I think it’s jockstraps only from now on Charlie. And woof, sweaty ones at that.”

All of my senses are being overpowered, it’s like my head is in a vice that keeps on tightening. The film in front of me becomes a blur, my focus shattered by the intense pleasure from my new cock.

“Cock.” I blurt out.

I hear Daniel laughing from out of view.

My head is starved of oxygen as all the blood rushes to my groin, I’ve never been this horny before. I feel the strangest sensation as my brain thickens, filling up with throbbing meat. All the space padded out until I’m holding up a heavy dumbbell on the end of my neck. My thoughts were still there, somewhere, but it took so long to find them. It was quicker and easier to just embrace jockdom, stop worrying so much and just go along with the flow. If I was unsure of what to say then bro, I’d just say ‘bro’! A bro can fill in sentences with ‘bro’ and everyone will know what a bro they are. And bro? Being labeled as a dumb bro means no one expects anything meaningful from me. Brawn over brains is the mantra of my life dude.

“Jock’s also like to wear their bro-hood on their sleeves, and in your case, quite literally.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth I feel a sharp pain, as if a hundred needles are stabbing down my arm. I brace myself before glancing down. And there it was, 🍖 the meat emoji tattooed on my left hand. Huhhuh, awesome bro. Branded a meathead for life.

“Bro?” I ask slowly, my voice now considerably deeper.

“Yeah ‘Chad?’” Daniel emphasises.

The name immediately sticks to me like glue. Chad. I am such a Chad. I have some distant recollection of being someone else, but I can’t be bothered to search my brain for it. There’s a more pressing concern.

“Bruh, I need to empty my balls.” I grunt. The pressure from my engorged member becoming unbearable.

“Then you know what to do. Good muscle tops have their cocks milked every day.”

I grip my cock and begin pumping in earnest, my jaw hanging open. As I masturbate, my hands and arms bulk up with muscle. I see my veins very noticeably pop out. I feel a desperate urge to flex, letting one hand go from my dick. I ball it into a fist and raise it to the side of my head, squeezing my biceps. My arm pulses with meat, sending a vain satisfaction to my pleasure center.

“Good dumb tops spend all their time in the gym or on the field. Sculpting their body into the perfect chiselled shape.” His nasally voice instructs.

Muscle continues to form all over my lithe frame; my shoulders broaden and my chest ripples into a tight 6 pack. My clothes are loudly ripped to shreds. Memories enter my head of spending hours working out, of hanging with the other jocks and forming a vacant facade of a personality. Sweat drips from my hairy armpits, staining the couch under me. The room quickly starts smelling like a gym, my rank feet tearing free from my socks. My face cracks as it squares out into a more defined outline, brow growing heavy above my distant eyes. My body is now taking up most of the couch as Daniel budges over to the side. I quicken my pace, pumping now with both hands. My balls tighten.

“Fuck yeah brah.” I roar, reaching climax.

My cock spurts rope after rope of musky cum directly at my face, I’m left covered in my own seed. Daniel leans over to me and begins to eagerly lick at my face. He savours my taste on his tongue before swallowing. The sign of an expert bottom, huhuhu.

“Mmm. Great Tops know how to take control. And you’re a great top Chad.” Daniel moans in lust.

He’s right.

“Dude, this film is fucking dull. I’m changing to the sports channel bro. There’s a sick game playing today.” My hands take the remote and switch to a noisy football game.

I grab Daniels’s tiny little body and force him onto my lap. I flex again and push his face into my armpit. His tongue drags along my wiry dank hair. He moves his hand between my legs and starts passionately fingering his hungry ass hole, using my cum as lube. I hear him panting heavily like a dog. Man, my boyfriend is such a whiny brat…

“Bro, it’s my turn.” My cocky voice booms.

“What?” I hear his muffled voice cry out.

“Uhh… I wish… I wish you were a Bro like me, Bro.” I smirk.

“Wait, noooo!” He screams.

His body shudders and contorts as I hold his face to my pits with my newfound strength. He packs on pounds of muscle in a matter of seconds. Dan’s moaning turns to grunts. He’s going to make for such a Good. Arrogant. Dumb. Bro.

I watch his dong stretch down his leg, his balls sagging between his thickening thighs. The head of Dan’s veiny cock leaking like a faucet. A pair of juicy pecs push out from his chest and his adam apple swells. I pull away the remains of his clothes, letting them fall to the ground.

Dan’s dainty feet beef up to a size 12, sweat gathering between his toes - smelling like a real man should. I feel his previously fat bubble butt tense with lean muscle on my lap. With a squeak, his thoroughly abused fuck hole tightens shut, never to be stretched open again. He only tops after all, like me.

I release my grip on him and he pulls away, my sweat covering his square jawed face. He stuffs his junk into a jockstrap, looking barely concealed as it throbs with need. His messy hair has receded into a clean as fuck buzzcut. We now look almost identical, except that his meat emoji 🍖 tattoo is engraved on his right hand.

“Bro!” Dan’s voice deepens.

“Let’s go find some sluts to breed, bro.” We both smirk at each other and flex.

#transformation #gay #jock #brainwashing

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pumpkennpie · 7 months ago

Note

landoscar, sex toys please!!

oh amelia, a woman after my own heart!!

landoscar + sex toys for this kink meme list! wc 1142 (oops)

“Fuck, Lando, please,” Oscar keens, hands fisted in the sheets so hard that his knuckles are turning white. He fucks himself down on Lando’s fingers, rolling his hips to make the digits brush against the lovely little spot that makes him see stars.

“God, you’re so easy for it, huh?” Lando laughs, a wonderment weaving through his words that Oscar does not have the mental capacity to unravel right now.

“Easy for you,” Oscar replies, heady and breathless. He knows he’s playing into Lando’s possessive streak, but he’ll do anything if it means finally getting something bigger than Lando’s three fingers in him.

“Fuck, okay.”

Oscar squeezes his eyes shut, whining when Lando pulls his fingers out. There, in the darkness behind his eyelids, his other senses are heightened. He can feel every movement Lando makes on the bed as if they share a body, and the smell of sex is heavy in his nostrils.

Maybe that’s why he jumps when a low buzzing sound breaks through the silence.

“‘M just checking it’s charged first. We’ll go slow, okay?” Lando assures, running the back of his hand over the skin behind Oscar’s knee.

Oscar cracks his eyes open and nearly comes at the sight in front of him.

Lando is on his knees between Oscar’s parted thighs, naked save for a pair of skin tight black boxers. His hair is mussed from where Oscar’s hands had been gripping it while Lando blew him, and there’s a pink flush high on his cheeks, muted from his tan but so telling to the state he’s in. He’s hard, the long line of his cock visible through his boxers. There’s a damp patch at the tip, and Oscar fights the urge to sit up and mouth at him through the fabric.

But the thing that makes Oscar shiver with anticipation is the object in Lando's hand. It’s the toy he bought while drunk and lonely, waiting for Lando to come back from galivanting across Greece with Fewtrell. It's smooth with gentle curves, longer than his own cock, but thinner. More precise, he supposes.

Lando had giggled when he first saw it, not because he was judging Oscar for the purchase, but because the vibrator is jarringly hot pink. Oscar had just blushed and told Lando that it was the only one left in stock.

Oscar watches raptly as Lando uncaps the lube and pours it over the tip of the toy. Some of it drips off, landing right on Oscar’s leaking cock. It’s cold, but the shock it sends through him is intoxicating.

Hmm. File that one away for later.

“Alright, ready?” Lando asks, shifting closer to Oscar and lifting one of Oscar’s legs over his shoulder.

Oscar is so exposed like this, splayed open for Lando to see the most intimate parts of him. Oscar kind of never wants to be clothed again if it means Lando will always look at him like this, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, like he’s something holy. Made to be worshipped.

“Yeah,” Oscar breathes.

The first press of the toy against his hole isn’t much different to Lando fucking into him. It’s not as warm, but it’s blunt, a dull pressure that only leaves Oscar wanting more.

“I’m good, you can-” Oscar’s words break into a moan when Lando pushes the vibrator in. It’s a better stretch than Lando’s fingers- not as good as his cock, but enough to make him grin through it.

Lando sets a steady, slow rhythm, watching Oscar’s face intently. Oscar knows he must look a mess right now, flushed red from the tips of his ears to the tip of his cock. He’s unbearably hard, brought right to the edge by Lando’s mouth earlier before being fingered open for what felt like eons.

The tip of the toy is curved, and within a minute, Lando has figured out the exact speed and depth he needs to push into Oscar to hit his prostate with every stroke. Soon enough, Oscar is panting, rutting his hips to get- he doesn’t even know. Closer? Maybe.

More. He needs more.

“Lando, please, turn it on,” he all but begs, one of his hands leaving the sheets to grip Lando’s bicep.

Lando is nothing if not merciful.

Even though he knows it’s coming, the first hum of vibration jolts through him like electricity. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt; sharp and all-consuming, both too much and not enough.

His body can’t decide if it wants to pull away or push into it, so it does both. His hips jerk up off of the mattress, and the leg propped over Lando’s shoulder tightens, pulling him in closer. The toy pushes in deeper, and the vibration brushes his prostate.

Oscar might scream- he’s too far gone to recognize the sounds he’s making. He’s babbling, rushed together syllables that create a steady stream of yesmorepleasefuck.

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this,” Lando praises, turning his head to the side to nip at the inside of Oscar’s thigh.

He feels hot and cold, shivering and sweaty. Feverish. Lando turns the vibration up, and the sensation teeters right on the line of perfect and too much.

Oscar can’t feel his limbs. Lando is pressing the vibrator into him, keeping it there longer with each stroke until he’s barely pulling out. Oscar grinds his hips down, and Lando gets the hint. He begins moving the toy around in little circles, near constant brushes of vibration against Oscar’s prostate that has him curling his toes and clenching his jaw.

It’s so overwhelming, this unrelenting stimulation, that he doesn’t realize he’s going to come until it’s happening.

There’s fire running through his veins, something bright and burning that whites out his vision as he bears down on the toy. His cock spurts against his stomach, and Oscar is distantly aware of come landing on his collarbone.

He's coming, untouched. It’s the most intense thing he’s ever felt.

“Fuck, Oscar, oh my god.” Lando’s voice is coming back to him in waves, hot pulses as he comes down from his high.

The sensation returns to his limbs slowly, a tingle that starts in his fingers and toes and runs through his muscles until he’s shaking with it. He opens his eyes just in time to watch Lando come, groaning as he spills over Oscar’s spent cock.

Oscar’s not sure when Lando slipped the toy out of him, but he’s glad that he did it soon enough to not overstimulate him. There’s only so much Oscar can take in one night, and this might fill that quota for a few days.

Lando gently drops Oscar’s leg back to the bed before flopping down next to him. When his body stops bouncing on the plush mattress, he turns his head and smiles wide at Oscar.

“Good?”

“I’d say so, yeah.”

#!!!#this was fun to write!!#i sprinted and almost hit a new pb wpm so that was cool!#ken writes #kink meme #prompt fill #ask ken #landoscar #landoscar smut #landoscar drabble

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doitforbangchan · 7 months ago

Note

hai hai haiii!! this has been stuck in my head for SO long, can we get chans reaction to reader surprising him with a skimpy outfit???

Hi darling! ofc you can! sorry it took so long! and to those waiting for drabbles do not fret there is an order and a method to my madness!! more to come soon!!

I want to take a moment to get a lil sappy (as if that never happens 🙃) and thank you all for going on this journey with me and supporting me all year. This blog has become my baby and so many of you have become very dear friends to me. To those who celebrate, happy thanksgiving, and to those who dont i hope you have a wonderful day anyways 💕

ABANB Drabble 05

Your nerves were shot.

The reflection in the mirror wasn’t you. Or at least not the you that you’ve come to know. No, she was someone different. The lingerie you wore was soft, the sheer teddy framing you perfectly and the pastel pink looked delicate against your skin. It was cute- sexy even.

Your hair was tossed around to give you a seductive edge and your makeup was done to match the lingerie, a pink dusting both your cheeks and a gloss on your lips. It wasn’t too much yet it felt like it was.

This was not you. Standing in the bathroom you fiddled with the edges of the teddy as you stared at yourself in the full length mirror. You felt like this whole ordeal was way out of your league, like when you walked out of this bathroom all he’s going to do is laugh at you.

Reasonably you knew Chan would never laugh at you for your effort, whether he approved of your look or not he would never put you down like that. But still.. Being sexy was not something you were used to or had even considered yourself to be so the lingerie was a new experience.

You hoped your scent of distress was not leaking out of you like a faucet but that hope was tossed right out the window when you heard the alpha call your name from the adjacent bedroom.

“Baby? You alright in there, my love?”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, so stuck in your own head that you were not expecting the distraction.

“Uh,” Your voice cracked slightly. Clearing your throat you continued, “Yeah, m’ fine.”

His deep hum reverberated through the walls, “What are you doin in there, sweet girl? You’ve been in there for over an hour.”

Shit, he noticed.

“N-nothing, Channie.” You called back, cursing yourself for stuttering.

“If you're doing nothing in there then how ‘bout you come out here so we can do nothing together, hmm?” His voice was amused, yet with a hint of confusion. You paused, weighing your options . You could go out there and make a fool of yourself, or you could stay in here where it’s safe. You never got to decide for yourself before Chan lowered his timber, using his alpha tone to draw you out. “Omega. Come out.”

Your hand was on the doorknob before you even knew you had moved, slowly twisting the knob. You took a deep breath as you opened the door, the hinges squeaking as you did so (Chan never got around to fixing that damn squeak but that is a battle for another day).

The patter of your bare feet on the wooden flooring drew the alpha's eyes to the bathroom door, his pupils immediately dilating at the sight of you.

Your gaze was cast down as you entered the bedroom, unable to meet his eyes in fear of becoming even more embarrassed than you already were. It wasn’t until you heard the deep growl and smelt the sudden spice that emanated from the man that you finally let your eyes rest on him.

“Omega… You tryin to kill me or something?”

His hands were fisting the sheets that he rested upon, his knuckles white as he tried to keep himself in control. He felt his self control slipping away as he drank you in. The soft lace complimented your skin perfectly and the sheerness of it left little to the imagination. It was a delicate look, surprising but absolutely perfect for his sweet little omega. To him you looked devastatingly delicious and he wanted nothing more than to ravage you.

The scent in the air was ever changing, the neediness was seeping out of Chan in thick waves, so thick you were sure it was stain the walls. You had never seen that look in his face before. It made you feel like an animal of prey that had been found by a hungry predator. It was a deep seated feeling you had only encountered when an alpha was in rut.

Chan's growls never ceased as you got closer to him. His hand shot out to beckon you closer. You grabbed the hem on your teddy and looked at him shyly. “Do you like it, Channie?”

Your hand fit into his and he groaned as if he had been burned when your skin made contact, yet he only pulled you in closer, hauling you into his awaiting arms and on top of him.

“Like does not even begin to describe the way I feel right now, Baby.” He purred, his strong hands running along the edges of your lingerie, then sliding up under it to touch your bare hips. His head leaned up to bury into the crook of your neck, his sharp teeth nipping and kissing along your skin, making your head spin. “Right now, all I want is to rip this pretty little nighty right off your perfect body and fuck you into this matteress.”

His words made you tremble, a soft gasp escaping you when he bit particularly hard into you. “Alpha.. Please..”

You could feel the smirk on his lips at your reaction. “Don’t worry omega, Alpha is gonna take excellent care of you.”

Your night had only just begun.

©doitforbangchan

#stray kids #abanb #stray kids x reader #skz #bang chan #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #stray kids abo

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potatoplace · 10 months ago

Text

Mastermind - Part 2

The Betrayal

Dark!Feysand x Reader

Part 1 | Part 3 | AO3 link

Mastermind Masterlist | Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist

Story Summary: Your friend of a few months, Feyre, invited you out for a celebratory drink over your new job, and of course her husband Rhys joins you. The night doesn't go quite as planned, and you end up back at their place with very few wits about you.

Warnings: non-con, abduction, being kept prisoner, smut, drug use (pot)

Words: ~5k

Author's Note: it's here! Feyre... you live in my head rent free so often... also this is just like a purely self indulgent fic at this point, I think it'll be a mini-series. Please read the warnings!

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

You woke up with a headache and a confusing ache between your legs.

Your bed was comfier than usual, and so, so warm. Almost like you had a heated blanket going. You mouth cracked open into a yawn, and you stretched your limbs as far as you could-

Which wasn't far.

Both your legs and arms bumped into something solid and warm, surrounding you on both sides.

Your eyes flew open, very, very confused when you saw your friend Feyre laying to your right, and her husband Rhys on your left and-

You're naked.

Completely bare between the two of them, with absolutely no memory of how you got there. Your face flushed with heat.

God, what have I done?

Your tried to wiggle your way out from between the two of them, but one of Rhys's arms merely locked tighter around you, pulling you further against him.

He's naked. You could feel him hardening against you already as he stirred slightly, burying his face in your hair.

You struggled slightly, trying to move away from him, he's your friend's husband for crying out loud.

"What's wrong, sweetness?" Feyre's sleep heavy voice asked from your right. Her hand moved up your thigh and over your stomach, coming to rest between your breasts.

You pushed her hand off of you. "I'm so confused right now, Fey, why are Rhys and I naked? I should go," you said, moving to sit up, but Feyre's hand shot out to keep you down, and between her and Rhys you were powerless to move.

"You're never going to leave us again, darling," Feyre said, wiggling closer to you and pressing her body against yours- she was naked as well.

What the fuck did I do last night?

"Feyre, let me up," you demanded, doing your best to get her hand off of you, but in your struggle you must have woken Rhys up.

"Is there a problem, ladies?" His sultry voice sent shivers down your spine. Your always found it attractive, but now? Trapped between him and your best friend? You wanted nothing more than to bolt out of their apartment and back to yours and never come back out.

"Rhysie, she's trying to leave," Feyre said poutily, hand rubbing circles onto your stomach.

"And why would our sweet little kitten want to leave, hmm?" He asked, lips finding your neck and pressing soft kisses along the expanse of it. "You were so happy last night, sweet thing, what changed?"

You shook your head- this was wrong, all of this was wrong. And Rhys's lips had brought to your attention something wrapped around your neck snugly.

"This isn't right, I can't even remember what happened last night," you said, tears leaking from your eyes now, and you brought a hand up to your throat, fingering the fabric on your neck. Is it leather? Is it-

"You put a collar on me?" You asked, disbelief in your voice as your fingers attempted to tear the item from your body.

"I figured you might freak out, sweetness," Feyre tutted from beside you, a hand raising your grasp both of yours. "You're ours now, Y/N, you just need a little help realizing that. That's what the cute little collar is for, just to keep you from running away like the silly little kitten I think you might be." Feyre's voice was soft but condescending as she explained it to you, but you were still so lost.

"I don't understand, Fey," you cried, attempting to pull your body out of their embraces. "We're friends, you're married. This isn't okay."

Rhys shushed you, running his hands over your hair. "We might be married, but you're the secret missing piece we've been looking for, kitten. From the moment Feyre introduced me to you, I knew what she meant when she said she had to have you. Neither of us can resist how absolutely sweet and lovely you are." You went to open your mouth to protest, but Feyre's mouth covered yours in a heated kiss. "You'll realize just how much you can't resist us either, soon," Rhys added when he felt you involuntarily relax into Feyre's dominating hold over you.

"As for the not remembering last night..." Feyre started when she finally pulled away from claiming your mouth. "I think I know the perfect way to fix that," she said with a smirk, already moving down below the blankets and between your thighs.

"Feyre stop," you pleaded. "I don't want this, I want to go home," you cried, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Really?" Feyre asked with a smirk, dragging a finger through your folds and collecting the wetness that had pooled there. "Because this sweet little pussy says otherwise."

Tears fell from your eyes faster, shame welling within you as Feyre sucked her finger clean, closing her eyes as she did so. Feyre lowered her mouth to your sex in the next moment, not wasting any time in working you up to your breaking point.

You were still so sensitive from whatever they had done to you last night, and with Feyre’s tongue working your clit like magic you could hardly keep yourself still, even as Rhys pinned down your torso. One of his hands was fondling your breast and keeping you in the bed while the other ran through your hair and kept your face tilted towards Feyre.

You could see her face well again, now that the blanket had slid further down the bed while you twitched and writhed in their hold and against the pleasure Feyre was giving you. Her eyes were locked on your face, taking in every detail as you got closer and closer to the brink with every delicious swipe of her tongue.

To you it was wrong, all wrong. You didn’t want to be reacting, to even be warming their bed at all, yet you were trapped here as the couple worked you into your first orgasm of the morning against your will.

The strangled moan that left your throat was enough to have Feyre smirking up at you from between your thighs.

“See? You love us, and what we can give you. And we love you, Y/N.”

“No you don’t, Feyre, this isn’t love,” you cried softly, too tired and ashamed to put up much of fight anymore.

“It is, darling. We love you,” Rhys reiterated, peppering your neck and face with kisses as if to prove his point. “Now, will you let us feed you? I imagine you’re hungry after all the work we did last night,” he said with a dirty grin, two fingers pinching your right nipple.

Feyre began to move back up the bed and you took the opportunity to roll to your right into the spot that she had occupied while the three of you slept. Feyre sighed.

“Rhys, you can go take a shower and then start breakfast, okay? I’ll get this one into the shower after a little more… persuasion,” Feyre said in a disappointed tone.

Rhys chuckled, but got up from the bed anyway and walked into the bathroom. “Tell me pancakes or waffles after I come back out, darling.”

Feyre’s hands were pulling your back against her front snugly, allowing no room for you to escape the soft press of her body. Once you’d calmed a bit, she let one of her hands snake down between your thighs, gathering a bit of wetness from your center and then rubbing quick circles on your clit.

So sensitive. Her deft fingers brought you to completion twice in the time it took Rhys to finish showering and enter the room for his clothing.

You were a whimpering mess by the time he rounded to the side of the bed you were facing, leaning into Feyre’s embrace as she forced you closer and closer to a third orgasm in such rapid succession.

“I see, you’re just more comfortable with Feyre, hmm?” Rhys asked as he pulled your lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. “I guess I’ll just have to spend every waking second of the next week getting you used to me,” Rhys said with a smile before heading to leave the room.

“Pancakes,” Feyre told him, right as her fingers brought you to your fourth orgasm of the morning.

“Got it, darling. Make sure to actually get her in the shower, okay?”

Feyre’s merely lowered her lips to the left side of your neck, sucking a pair of dark, claiming marks over the spaces that Rhys had left unmarked.

Your breathy, contented sigh shocked you so thoroughly you jerked from Feyre’s hold finally and landed on the carpeting.

“Oh, sweetness, still afraid of liking us?” Feyre asked amusedly, bringing herself to the edge of the bed. “Don’t worry, you’ll get over that in a couple of days, I think. Unless you decide to be a brat and fight your fate which, I might add, is useless. Rhys and I love you, Y/N.”

You shook your head at her words. “This is wrong, Feyre, you know it’s wrong. You can’t just keep me here,” you said indignantly, getting up from the floor on shaky legs and attempting to cover yourself with your arms.

“Why not?”

You scoffed. “Because, Feyre, I am a human being and not a pet. I have a life and people that care about me, you can’t just abduct me and get away with it!”

“People that care about you? You have me, Y/N. Your family is mostly dead and the ones that are alive, you don’t talk to! And you even told me that I’m the first friend you made in Velaris, you belong with me. You have belonged to me ever since I first saw you in that coffee shop.”

“What about my job? I have a job, Feyre, they will be worried when I don’t actually start in a few days,” you told her desperately, hoping for any shred of the kindness you’d thought your friend had possessed before today to shine through.

“At the marketing firm? Rhys owns it, sweetie, his cousin Mor manages it. She already knows that you won’t be starting, you have a much better life set up for you now.”

You stared at her in shock. Had everything about your life recently been one big set up?

"What did you do Feyre?" You asked her, despair lacing your tone. If she was telling the truth, then there was no way out of this for you. And-

Oh my god. Your apartment here. Feyre had recommended it.

"I didn't do anything, Y/N. I suggested the job at the marketing firm because you were working yourself to the bone at that coffee shop, dear. I couldn't stand to see you suffer," Feyre explained, prowling across the room to stand in front of you. You were backed against the corner of the room now, with nowhere to go. "And I suggested the apartment here because we have good security, and I've seen the way your regulars would look at you, like they were just waiting to snatch you when the opportunity presented itself." One of Feyre's hands comes up to cup your face, following you as you turned away, still finding its mark. She turned your face back to look at her, and her eyes held such a fiercely protective look, you almost couldn't get your next words out.

"How are you any better than them?" You asked quietly, instantly taking note of how her eyes darkened with anger. "You snatched me away, Feyre, not any of those men. So how are you-"

Feyre surged forward, cutting your words off by slotting her mouth over yours. The kiss was harsh, claiming as she pulled your naked body against hers even as you struggled and tried to pull away.

"I love you, Y/N. And I would never, ever hurt you..." Feyre trailed off as her fingers played with your hair once you'd stopped fighting her. You opened your mouth to refute that claim, but she started speaking before you could. "I am not hurting you, sweetness. You simply don't know what is best for you right now, and sometimes we just need to be shown the right path." You went to argue again- "Now, if you don't shower with me, you won't be given any clothes to wear for the next week," Feyre said with finality.

Fight her, continue to feel disgusting in the off chance that she doesn't still force you to shower, and have no clothes for a whole seven days, or don't fight her, deal with it this once, and have clothes.

You didn't fight as Feyre steered you by the shoulders into their grand bathroom, stopping by the large triple sink counter. She carefully removed the collar from your neck with some type of key, then led you straight into the massive shower that had four huge, separate shower heads- one on each of the three walls, and one overhead.

You turned around right as Feyre started the shower, turning on just the three wall spouts. Water hit you from three sides, and Feyre came at you from the remaining one.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" Feyre asked softly as she ran her hands over your body, passing over your nipples far more times than you felt was necessary. You shook your head. All that you could vaguely remember was getting to the bar Feyre had suggested. “That’s too bad, sweetness. You were very eager last night,” she said with a smile, and your cheeks flushed. “Don’t worry, at some point you’ll be able to admit to yourself how much you want us. For now we’ll just keep reminding you how much we want you.”

Feyre gently tipped your head back to wet your hair, taking her time to get it soaked in the warm spray. Her nails scratched lightly along your scalp, and you nearly sighed at the soft gesture.

This is not the same friend you’ve known all these months, you reminded yourself.

Before today, you would have never guessed you would be taking a shower with Feyre. A small part of you had maybe dreamed about it, but never would you have thought it would become a reality. Especially with the added element of you being forced.

Still, you couldn’t help but relax into Feyre’s gentle grasp and she shampooed your hair, then rinsed the lather from it, being careful to not get any suds in your eyes. The shampoo smelled just like the one you used before all of this happened. Strange. When Feyre began putting a thick conditioner in your hair, you realized it.

They don’t just smell like the products you use at home, they are the products you use at home.

Your accusatory glare hit Feyre once she was done rubbing the conditioner in.

“What?” Feyre asked innocently as she wet her own hair.

“Why do you know what products I use?”

Feyre smiled. “I pay attention, dear. I wanted to make the transition as comfortable as possible for you, so I got everything I could think of that you use regularly. Now, will you help me wash my hair?”

You didn’t move.

“Pleaaase, Y/N?” Feyre asked again, a pouty look on her face now, one that you were rarely able to resist.

“Fine. Which bottles?” You conceded, grabbing the shampoo bottle she pointed to and squeezing some out into the palm of your hand. You lathered it up, then set to working it through Feyre’s thick, golden brown hair. When you rinsed her hair, you wanted to let soap run into her eyes, but couldn’t let yourself for some reason. You repeated the process of working the conditioner through Feyre’s hair, and once you were done she turned around to fade you again.

“Time to rinse yours, cutie,” Feyre said, already tipping your head back into the water to rid your hair of conditioner. Again, her nails scraped along your scalp gently, just enough to get your body to relax more. When she finished, she grabbed a cloth and loaded it with body wash, one that smelled of lilacs and pears- very Feyre. Feyre soaped up your body slowly, lingering in the sensitive areas as long as she could before you started to fight her hold again. She helped you rinse off, then extended the cloth to you. “Do me?”

You shook your head. No. “I already washed your hair, Feyre, just let me get out please.”

Feyre sighed, and started washing her body. “You can’t get out yet, you still need to wash your face. I’d suggest it after last night,” Feyre said with a wink, and your stomach churned.

You don’t really want to know what that comment was about. But you wash and exfoliate your face nonetheless, using the identical products to those you had before, finishing just as Feyre was done washing her own face.

She turned the water off, and grabbed two fluffy towels off of the rack for the both of you. She wrapped one around herself, then patted you dry, taking her time to get every inch of skin and dry your hair as much as she could before she dried herself off.

Feyre went to the sink closest to the shower, and you spotted all of your skincare and hair care products lined up attractively behind the middle sink. Feyre was already doing her routine as you examined the bottles and jars, picking out what you wanted to use.

At least they’re giving you something normal.

Once the two of you had finished, Feyre locked the collar back onto your neck, then pulled you back into their bedroom, the massive bed lurking in your vision no matter where you turned. Feyre grabbed two sets of clothing, pulling on her own outfit. First was a lacy black set of lingerie that looked flawless on her, then a pair of black leggings, a rich brown sweater, and slippers.

She then forced you to let her dress you, slipping a pair of blush pink panties up your legs to settle snugly on your hips, and a matching colored bralette over your breasts, which she had for once refrained from squeezing. Your arms were lifted above your head to let a soft pink, long sleeved peasant dress fall over your body, and you were instructed to sit to allow Feyre to put white knee high socks onto your legs and slip your feet into cute pink slipper booties. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as Feyre dragged you out of the bedroom. You look cute, if you had to describe the outfit. It’s similar enough to the style you wear on your off time, though everything seems to be made of higher quality materials than what you were able to afford.

The door to the bedroom led to a short hallway, which Feyre led you to the open end of, coming out in the living room. The two of you walked to dining table, near the far end of the open concept room. There was already a good amount of food on the table, and Rhys was just walking away from the stove with a large plate of pancakes in hand, a large smile spreading across his face when he spotted the both of you.

“And I was just thinking I might have to come and get you girls,” he said with a grin. “Come and sit down, breakfast is ready.”

Rhys pulled out a chair for you, pushing you in once you’d sat down and repeated the gesture with Feyre, who was sitting to your left. Rhys then took the seat to your right at the head of the table and began piling food onto your plate. A couple of sausages, pieces of bacon, chunks of cut up melon, and of course pancakes.

You didn’t think you could eat.

If you had woken up in a separate bed this morning, all of this would feel normal enough. Feyre and Rhys had let you stay over once before, and the following morning had a breakfast similar to this.

But everything had changed, you weren’t here because your friends were kind and invited you, you were here because they had trapped you here. You had a collar wrapped around your neck, that alone would be reason enough for you to want to leave.

“Eat up, darling,” Rhys said as he moved on to plating his own food.

You stayed still, staring down at the food that had your stomach turning.

Feyre’s elbow nudged you gently, and you instinctively looked to your left.

“Go ahead and eat, Y/N,” Feyre said gently. When you still didn’t move, she sighed. “Not eating won’t do anything for you, sweetness. Have just one of everything, please,” she begged, using her soft eyes that were so hard to resist.

So, even with your stomach protesting, you lifted a bite of pancake to your mouth, chewing and swallowing but tasting nothing. Maybe if you play along for a little bit, they’ll let their guard down and you can escape.

Feyre and Rhys chatted about their jobs as the three of you ate- Feyre about her studio, and Rhys about the various businesses under the Night Corporation umbrella. You choked down each bite of food, doing your best to keep attention off of you.

A phone ringing cut through their chatter, and Feyre sighed as she picked it up.

“What?” She asked, annoyance clear in her tone. “Can’t you deal with it? I have something important today,” Feyre said, shooting a smile your way. The person on the other end replied with something that made Feyre groan. “Fine, I’ll be there in a half hour.”

Feyre dropped her phone onto the table and ran her hands over her eyes. “Well, I have to go into the studio, apparently the art class has taken a drastic turn that only I can fix,” Feyre whined. “Will you be okay here with just Rhys, sweetness?”

You raised a brow at her. “As though I have a choice?”

Rhys chuckled at your words. “That’s true, Fey, she’s stuck with me for the day. I’ll take good care of her, don’t worry.” Dread pooled in your stomach at his words. You don’t want to know what type of ‘care’ he has in mind.

Feyre was still staring at you, like she wanted to say something, then looked away when she stood up. “I shouldn’t be gone more than an hour, but I’ll text you to let you know if there’s anything that will hold me up,” she remarked as she placed a kiss on Rhys’s cheek, and one on yours as well. “Love you guys!” Feyre said as she was walking out of the door, purse in hand.

“Love you darling!”

In the silence that followed the door slamming shut, the dread in your stomach grew.

“So, would you like a little tour?” Rhys asked, already stacking your breakfast plates together.

You stared at him. “A tour?”

Rhys smiled. “Yes, darling, a tour. You need to know your way around now that you’re living here. And don’t say no, this is mandatory,” he added when you shook your head.

He placed the dishes in the sink before smoking back to the table, pull in out your chair and extending a hand to help you stand. You ignore it, standing on your own, which made Rhys sigh.

“Right this way, darling,” Rhys said, pulling you by the hand back towards the hallway containing their bedroom. You dug your feet into the ground, unwilling to enter the bedroom with him. Rhys stopped walking and turned to face you. “What’s the problem, doll?”

“I am not going to take this sham of a ‘tour’ if it just means that you’re going to rape me.”

Rhys’s eyes softened at your words, and he pulled you into a hug even as your tried to resist his hold. “Oh, darling. You won’t have to worry about that. I won’t fuck you until you are begging for my cock.”

“Like that will ever happen,” you spat, finally wrenching yourself free of his grasp.

“Oh, it will,” Rhys said assuredly, smirking down at you. “Now, will you let me give you the tour?”

You sighed, but did feel mildly better knowing that he supposedly wouldn’t be forcing himself on you. “Fine."

He continued to lead you back down the hallway their their bedroom resided, but stopped at the doorway opposite it. He swung it open, and gestured for you to walk inside. When you did, your jaw dropped.

It’s as though they had gone into your mind and plucked your perfect bedroom out of it just to recreate it here. The walls were in a soft, dusty pink color with a pale cream ceiling. There was fluffy pink carpet on the floor, looking so soft and squishy you wanted to be barefoot on it. At the far end of the room was a large canopy bed, decorated in hues of pink and purple, with a mound of pillows against the wall. There was a dresser and large closet off to the left, and on the right there was a small sitting area gathered around a table with a tv on it, your favorite consoles already lined up and plugged in, along with stacks and stacks of your favorite games. There was even a cute pink mini fridge and little snack shelf, all filled with your favorites.

“Do you like it?” Rhys asked hesitantly from his place in the doorway.

“Do I-?” You stopped to laugh. “Do I like it? It’s like the two of your read my mind. How?”

Rhys’s cheeks colored slightly as he met your eyes. “Feyre had the idea to look through your Pinterest, and you had a board dedicated to your dream room, so she worked tirelessly to get this ready for you.”

The thought and effort would have been sweet- were they not keeping you here against your will.

You just sighed and shook your head. “Is there more to the tour?”

Rhys nodded and grabbed you by the hand once more. He showed you around to the various guest rooms, the guest bathroom, then to Feyre’s home studio and his office, and finally you were back to the living room. The two of you were stood in front of the couches, looking out at their pool and massive patio.

“Do you want to play a game together?” Rhys asked, gesturing to the double TV and console set up in front of you. “We can play whatever you want, you can even play alone,” he offered.

Strangely, this request put you at ease even more than him saying he wouldn’t fuck you. Almost like it confirmed that the Rhys you had known was still in there, just… different. Darker.

“I don’t know…”

“We could smoke a joint,” Rhys said in a sing-songy voice, having grabbed one out of a box on the coffee table. “Or two. Or three. Just something to help you get your mind of things, maybe?”

The offer was tempting. You could pretend like you were just hanging out at your friends’ house and playing a video game with him.

“Sure, why not?”

The feeling of smoke filling your lungs calmed you down, settling you into a sleepy state where you weren’t thinking about the situation and how fucked up it is, just the passing flow of the river of your thoughts. You and Rhys shared two joints together on the patio, passing it between puffs.

“You know that Feyre cares about you, right?” Rhys asked as he took the second lit joint from you. You exhaled the smoke from your mouth, watching as it was whipped away by the wind.

“I don’t know that I would call this,” you gestured around you and at the collar, “caring about me.”

Rhys sighed. “But it is, Y/N. I know we went about it in a twisted way, but Feyre and I truly want you to be happy and safe. And before you ask, no, I won’t let you go. Just give us some time, you’ll come see how nice your life can be here and how much we care about you.”

You took the joint back from him with a pout, annoyed with him now. Sure, they care about me enough to steal me away and lock me up, but not enough to let me make the choice myself.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Rhys laughed sadly. “No, you don’t. But giving us a chance will make this much more enjoyable for you.”

You took another long drag before passing the joint back to Rhys’s waiting fingers.

“Will you… would you convince Feyre to not… touch me until I’m begging?” You asked hopefully, knowing that that day would never come now.

Rhys eyed you carefully. “I can talk to her about that, if it would make you feel more at ease around us darling."

A weight was lifted off your chest at his confirmation that he would wrangle Feyre in. He let you take the last drag before putting the joint out, and followed you back into the living room.

“Do you have Minecraft?” You asked hopefully, wanting to dick around and maybe build a cute house.

“Of course, darling,” Rhys said, booting up the TVs and consoles, passing a pink controller to you.

Within a couple of minutes, the two of you were as focused on the blocky game as you could be, your minds covered in a weed soaked haze.

Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff (let me know if you want to stay on the taglist for the mini series!)

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roxy-writes · 2 years ago

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alright i know i’ve been gone for a bit but i think i’ve still got it. i’ve just been thinking recently about size kinks again😭

warnings: fem reader, size kink, msub, amazon position(i know his old ass bones could never handle being folded like this but let me dream)

in the beginning of your relationship, i think konig would have a more dominant role. he didn’t think being vulnerable was something you’d be attracted to, and he has trouble trying to get away from the ideas he has about what he should be for you. in his mind, you’re someone that needs to be protected. that’s always been how he worked.

you knew better. you knew for a fact that underneath all the roughness was just someone who needed you to use him.

the thing about konig is even if you’re not small, he’s big. pants lying on the floor somwhere by your bed, he’d watch wide eyed as you guided him into an entirely new position. folded in half, his cock twitched while he looked at you above him. you crouched over him and whispered, “hmm, how’s this? comfy?” nodding, he silently begged for you to have mercy on him and sink that sweet pussy down on his cock.

watching him bent in half below you was new for you. it looked almost odd, his huge body below your smaller one. it felt so right, though, so you crouched above him and let the wetness of your pussy drip onto his cock. you didn’t wanna overwhelm him by taking it too fast, so you spit on your hand and began to slowly jerk him off as your pussy got wetter and wetter.

he moaned and begged for you to put it in. you couldn’t say you were surprised at how easily he started begging. for you he’d always been weak. his cock looked so irresistible, leaking all over your hand. so you gave in. slipping the tip inside, you threw your head back as you lowered yourself onto him.

“too slow. put the whole thing in, please?” he whined.

“baby, i don’t know…” you responded. his puppy eyes made you crack. holding his ankles in place to keep him bent in half, you managed to take everything you could. using all your strength, you bounced up and down on him. you knew you and him both were going to be sore after this, but the feeling in your stomach was too nice to want to stop.

you began putting all your effort into making yourself cum. shaking, you began rocking your hips to make his cock rub right against your g-spot. you were seeing stars at this point, and he was no better off. his legs quivered and he groaned every time you bounced.

once you came, it took everything in you to keep going. he looked so desperate and close. every movement you made elicited a new sound from him. once you started hitting the exact right spots, his breathing got heavy and you felt him twitch and cum.

sighing, you prepared yourself for the strain of moving. you slowly moved to climb off of him, hole empty and aching. you knew he’d need all the aftercare you could give him after that one.

#cod smut #cod x reader #cod x reader smut #konig x reader #konig x reader smut #konig smut #konig cod #cod mw2 #konig mw2 #konig cod mw2

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toji-bunny-girl · 2 years ago

Note

Recent fixation of mine has been dabi with a breeding kink. How do you feel about it??

Hmm 😋😋 My fav thing abt men with breeding kink is the non-stop fucking just to make sure he’s got you with his kid, and getting you all overstim. So now imagine JUST IMAGINE

He’s got you in missionary, and the sound of mixed cum fills the air along with the moans that slipped off from your wet lips. The smell of sex and the damp feeling of your essence that stained the bedsheets are making your head dizzy. Now along with Dabi’s harsh ram deep into your cunt, your mind wonders blank while he fills your womb white with his seed.

It’s been over an hour and your body is limp on the bed, your stomach bloated with his cum and your muscle squeezes in overstimulation. But he still wasn’t done, each time the image of you with your pregnant stomach from his seed only riling him up for more.

You mumble something soft through your teeth and moans, and Dabi lowers his head to hear you clearer. “I-I’ll break…!” you squealed as another wave of orgasm washed through you, nails digging into his arm as you arched your back. “Please—nhah! N-No more…!”

“Tch,” he clicked his tongue, lips cracking into a smirk. “Gotta take it all, m’kay, princess? Just gotta make sure you’ll get all pretty and round, mhm?”

NOW NOW NOW.

He’s got a fistful of your hair in his hand, the other placed beside your head to support his weight. You’re in doggy style and your face is mushed up against the bedsheets, eyes rolled to the top of your head and lips drooling from the pleasure.

Sweat drips from his hair to your back, then down your spine, and he peeks at from where the two of you are connected. Your ditzy whimpers soon turns louder into whines—and he knows you’re near.

Lifting himself up, Dabi pushes his two hands onto your back. His weight sinks your upper body down the bed as his hips piston harder, faster into you. You’re wailing in cracked pleasure and as his fat tip rubs against your G-spot, pussy tightening around his length as you chanted about your nearing orgasm.

“Come on, angel. Tell daddy, how much you want me,” he leans closer down to your ears and watches as your shoulders shudder.

“Please d-daddy! Hngh—wanna cum, wanna be filled! Haa—” you squealed, eyebrows knitting high up to the sky.

“Yeah, baby—shit. Daddy’s gonna fuck you full, mmh?” he dips his head to your neck, marking it with teeth and tongue before groaning long as his load paint your walls. His thighs are sticky with your cum and you’re dripping with his, your womb full with his seed and they’re already leaking from your sore cunt—and he thought you looked so pretty, all bred and ready to be round with his kids.

#BUNN—nsfw #bnha smut #bnha x reader #mha smut #mha x reader #bnha #dabi x reader #dabi smut #todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #touya todoroki #touya x reader #touya smut #bnha imagines

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reccyls · 1 year ago

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Beyond the Merging of Then and Now (Azel story)

Azel's 4th anniversary story sale, where child Azel is brought into the future to meet Emma and current Azel.

---

As I made my way towards Prince Azel's sanctuary as usual, I came across a small figure.

Emma: This child was all alone in the middle of the desert. Emma: His hair and eye color are exactly like yours, so is he your secret son?

Azel: Not that I can recall. Azel: And don't just bring any random child from who knows where to my sanctuary. Azel: Send him away.

Emma: Don't you have any heart at all!?

Azel: A god has no such thing.

???: God...

Emma: ...That's right. This man here is a god.

(He finally said something.) (He seems to be really anxious around strangers. On the way here, he barely spoke at all. And...) (He's been gripping at the hem of his clothes almost like he's scared of something. And his expression is so stiff.)

Emma: If there's anything troubling you, this man can help you.

Azel: No I won't.

???: O holy god...

Azel: Did you not hear what I just said?

???: Please help me...

Azel: And what would you offer in return? I care not for destitute believers.

???: I... I...

(!?)

Emma: H-hey, don't cry! Were you scared of this mister? Emma: I know he has a bad personality, but he's not a bad person.

Azel: How disrespectful. Your ability to keep adding onto your debt remains unchanged.

Emma: Prince Azel, please don't bully a child, especially not one this young.

Azel: I would have been merciful had he been just an ordinary child. Azel: But this boy is no "ordinary child". Azel: Just looking at him is enough to make me sick. If you won't throw him out, I will.

Emma: No, no, no, absolutely not!

???: ...if even god has forsaken me... then what should I do...?

Emma: It'll be okay! He's been- um, this was all a divine joke!

Azel: .......A what.

Emma: Anyway! Could you tell me your name? Emma: I've been wondering what I should call you.

???: ........

(Uh oh... He doesn't seem to want to talk to me.)

Azel: Call him whatever you want. How does 'Brat' sound?

Emma: Well then, I'll just borrow part of your name. We'll call him El.

Azel: What kind of hideous naming system is that? No.

Emma: El, won't you tell me what's bothering you?

El: ........

Emma: Did you get lost? If you can't find your parents, we'll look for them together.

El: ........

(Hmm, still nothing. He's just been crying silently, but I feel like there's something he wants to say.) (But he doesn't sob and wail like a regular kid. It's like he's still trying to hold everything back...) (Like his heart is a bowl full of water with a little crack in it, and his tears are slowly leaking out.) (It really hurts to see.)

Azel: Anyway, I shall be leaving now. I leave things here to you.

Emma: No you aren't!

Azel: Ugh... Let go of me.

Emma: Between the two of us, you're the only one that El will talk to. Emma: He doesn't trust me, so please stick around for his sake.

Azel: I don't care.

Emma: ........

Azel: What?

Emma: ........

Azel: Don't just look down and stand there silently.

Emma: ........

Azel: What, are you crying?

Emma: ........

Azel: No, a woman as impudent as you wouldn't-

Emma: ........

Azel: There's no way.

Emma: ........ Emma: ........ *sniffle*

Azel: Agh, damn it, fine. Fine! What do you want me to do? Just tell me.

Emma: Thank you for your kindness, Prince Azel! You aren't just using the title of god for show after all! Emma: --ow, ow, ow, don' pull my cheeks!

Azel: This is your punishment for blasphemy.

El: .....

Azel: You're crying too much, brat. Stop.

El: Because... because I'm still--- I'm not...

Azel: Watch what you say. Don't say anything unnecessary.

El: .......

Azel: At any rate. Brat. It appears as though this woman will be your playmate.

El: ...I can't play.

Azel: God himself speaks before you, and you dare to defy me?

El: ...It's really okay?

Emma: You've never played any games before, El?

El: Never.

(Whatever circumstances El is in must be even worse than I thought.)

Azel: Well then, I've done my part, so now--

Emma: Let's all play together!

Azel: Are you trying to give me an ulcer?

Emma: Oh, I'm sure won't be that bad, come on!

Azel: ...You are definitely the worse person compared to me.

Emma: I didn't hear that! Now come on, let's all play hide and seek!

scene change - now at an oasis

El: Hmmm.... he's not here.

Emma: Who would have thought that Prince Azel was so good at hide and seek...

(It is kind of petty how he's hidden himself away.)

El: Of course we can't find him. He's god, so he has to be good at everything.

Emma: ...You think so?

El: Yes.

Emma: Then it must be really tough, being god.

El: ...Yes. It's tough. El: Um, no, wait. It's not tough at all. El: That's just how a god is.

Emma: ...

El: ...What's wrong?

Emma: It's nothing. I just thought that you looked more relaxed, that's all.

(He was pretty closed off at first, but I think El's warmed up to me while we were searching for Prince Azel.) (Playing like this, he seems just like a normal child.)

El: ...I'm sorry.

Emma: What are you apologizing for?

El: I'm not supposed to let anything show on my face. El: People change how they act if I change my expression. El: If I don't keep things the same, it makes people start unnecessary conflicts. El: Actually... I shouldn't have cried before. I'm not good enough yet.

(So that's why he was so closed-off.) (...I don't know El's full circumstances, but that's probably what the adults around him told him.)

Emma: El, right now, there's nobody here aside from you and me, right? Emma: I don't know who told you that, but here, it doesn't matter. Emma: I promise I'll keep it a secret, so it's okay to let your emotions show, all right?

El: ...... El: ....Miss... What do you think about me?

Emma: Hmmm... I suppose I think you're a young boy who has a lot of difficult things to worry about.

El: A boy... El: ....... El: ...Okay. Then, just for now is okay... El: I'll stop holding back... because for now, I'm just a boy.

(He smiled! What a little angel!)

Emma: Great! So let's play a lot more, okay?

El: Okay. I'll wake up from this dream eventually, but until then, I want to play a lot.

Emma: Dream?

El: My grown up self who became a real god is here, so this must be a dream.

Emma: ...Your grown up self?

El: Huh...? El: Oh, miss, you didn't realize? El: My name is--

Azel: It's El, is it not? Though I think "Brat" suits you better. "Stupid Brat" even more.

El: Mmph!?

Emma: Wha- Prince Azel!? Where did you come from-- wait before that, stop covering El's mouth!

Azel: I don't know. Keeping his mouth shut seems like the better-- ack!

(El bit him!)

El: ...Miss.

Emma: Leave it to me! Just say the word and I'll give Prince Azel a good slap--

El: No, it's not that. We found god.

Emma: ...Oh, that's true.

(I forgot we were in the middle of hide and seek.)

El: I knew you didn't want to let her know, but...

Azel: ...

El: The bait really worked. Even though you're an actual god.

Azel: ...All right. Time to do what I should have done from the start. I'm tossing you out to the far end of the desert.

Emma: Wait! You're not really going to take him away!?

Prince Azel picked up the struggling El under one arm and began walking. Perhaps it was due to how I desperately chased after the god who really did began walking out into the dunes, But the burning pain in my chest lingered for a long while after that.

#ikemen prince #azel (ikepri)#my translation

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arrow-guy · 3 months ago

Text

Within the Ashes (6/??)

Summary: You’ve spent your life working for someone else. You watch their back, you protect them, but you’re left feeling empty and unfulfilled at the end of the day. What happens when a freak accident transports you to a different dimension, very nearly identical to your own?

A/N: We're starting off this chapter wtih Doctor Strange and more of his terrible bedside manner and even more of Steve and Reader bantering. Sounds like fun to me tbh. Anyway, please enjoy!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: StevexReader, background Spideytorch

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Feelings talks

Part 5

“Okay, so I’m unique in this reality?”

“Correct.”

“And clearly being here isn’t a threat to the space time continuum or whatever.”

Strange pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s not how it works.”

“You really just don’t have any sense of humor.”

“Not in this instance, no.”

(Y/N) sighs and scrubs her hands over her face. “Okay, so where do we go from here? Are you able to send me back?”

“No, that’s not within my power.”

“Alright.” She sighs once more and nods to herself. “Okay.”

Steve places one hand on (Y/N)’s elbow. He softly asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

She chuckles. “Yeah, not much I can do about it, right?”

“Well, no…”

(Y/N) pastes on her best smile and looks around at the gathered Avengers. “Looks like you’re stuck with me for a little while longer.”

“Ah, don’t say that,” Tony waves her off. “It’s a pleasure to have you.”

“Besides,” Natasha says. “You’ve just barely started training. It’d be a shame if you left now.”

“Ah, well, clearly I can’t leave now. I’d lose all my progress.”

Strange clears his throat and, when all eyes are once again on him, says, “Seeing as I am no longer needed, I’ll be leaving.”

As Tony opens his mouth to offer to show him out, Strange opens a portal and disappears through it as soon as he steps through.

(Y/N) frowns and shakes her head. “What a weirdo.”

Steve nods. “Agreed.”

“Do you guys have to work with him often?”

“No we do not,” Stark says.

“Hmm. Well I think I’m going to go lay down and process this information for a bit.” She presses her lips together for a moment. “Yeah, I think that sounds like a good idea.”

(Y/N) nods to everyone and excuses herself. She walks through the hallways, more than a little numb and confused because she already knew the chances of Strange being able to magically send her home were slim to begin with. Still, she can’t help the disappointment that slowly settles over her.

She sighs and steps into the elevator, absentmindedly scrubbing her hands first over her stubby hair and then her face. She leans against the back wall and, just before the doors close, someone sticks their hand in the small gap, forcing them to slowly reopen. Steve steps into the elevator as soon as the gap is large enough and leans against the wall beside (Y/N).

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks.

(Y/N) nods. “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“It’s an answer, isn’t it?”

“It’s part of one.”

“Man, you’re persistent, aren’t you?”

“I think most people would call it stubborn. Or annoying.” She huffs out a laugh and Steve smiles. “I’m serious. Are you okay?”

She nods. “Yeah. I’m alright.”

“You’re disappointed.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“No. You’re usually more talkative though.”

“Mm. Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. You just got some pretty heavy news. All things considered, you’re handling things pretty well.”

“Dissociating in the elevator is handling it well?”

“Well you’re not rocking back and forth in a dark corner. I’d say you’re handling it better than most would.”

“Ah yes, the full mental breakdown. A classic.” She spares him a glance and sees him crack a smile. “Yeah, no, I don’t think I’m really the mental breakdown kind. Spent too much time compartmentalizing shit over the last fifteen years. Too many walls, too much barbed wire. Nothing leaks out of these ears.”

“God, that sounds terrible.”

“Have you ever seen something leak from someone’s ears?”

“No, should I have?”

“No. Be glad you haven’t, it’s horrific.”

“Wait, have you seen something leak from someone’s ears?”

“How do you think I know it’s horrific?”

“I don’t think I want to know more.”

“A wise decision. All I’ll say on the subject is that aliens were involved and they weren’t the peaceful E.T. kind.”

“That makes sense.” The elevator stops and Steve holds his hand out as the door opens. “I guess this is you.”

“It sure is.”

As (Y/N) steps out into the hall he asks, “You sure you’re good on your own?”

“Yeah, I think I just need some time to myself. I process better when it’s quiet.”

“Alright.”

“Plus a nap couldn’t hurt. I’m still a little sore from that last training session with Natasha.” (Y/N) massages the back of her neck. “She really doesn’t pull any punches.”

“I think she believes we learn through pain.” Steve shakes his head. “I’d argue with her, but her methods seem to work.”

“You’d argue with her, but she could totally kick your ass.”

Steve chuckles. “That too.”

(Y/N) smiles. “Thank you, Steve.”

“For what?”

“Just existing.”

Steve’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, but his smile doesn’t waver. “That’s it?”

She nods. “Mhm, that’s it.”

“Oh. Well that’s not much, is it?”

“It’s everything. Honest.”

Steve attempts to respond, but his mouth just moves soundlessly. (Y/N) smiles and heads to her room.

“I thought you weren’t going to flirt.”

Steve sighs and closes the fridge. “I’m not flirting.”

“You’re absolutely flirting.”

“How is any of that flirting?”

Natasha folds her arms and leans back against the counter. “The little smiles, the jokes? That’s flirting, Steve.”

“It’s banter, Nat. Conversation.” Natasha raises her eyebrows. “It’s not flirting!”

“Okay. then explain what it is, then.”

“It’s friendly conversation. Banter, at most.”

“That sounds like flirting, Steve.” He scowls. “I’m only saying this so you’re not heartbroken when she leaves.”

“You think I’m not thinking about that? Of course it’ll suck when she goes back, but I won’t be sad because I’m losing a potential lover. I’d be sad because I’m losing a friend who I genuinely care about.”

Natasha sighs. “God, that’s sappy.”

“I’m allowed.”

“Never said you weren’t.” Steve rolls his eyes and Natasha smiles. “You really like her.”

“Nat-”

“No, you actually like her.” He scowls. “This is serious.”

“Maybe it is.”

“Well shit.”

“No, not shit. (Y/N) is great.”

“Never said she wasn’t. Teaching her has actually been fun.”

“Really?”

She nods. “She’s picking things up much faster than I thought she would. She’d honestly make a formidable member of the team.”

“(Y/N) doesn’t want that.”

“Sometimes what we want doesn’t matter.”

“What she wants matters. She doesn’t want to be a hero. Based on what she’s told me, I don’t blame her. Hell, looking at what we’ve been through, I wouldn’t want her to be like us.”

“Commendable.”

“Nat-”

“No, really. She’s lucky to have someone looking after her. Especially you.” Natasha shakes her head. “This isn’t her reality. This is only a mirror of her home. She’s friendly with the rest of us, but she’s close with you. And you’re not really close with anyone.”

“Hey! I’m close with you, aren’t I?”

“I’m a spy, I don’t count.”

“I think you do.”

“Fine. But I’m still right. About all of it. And I’m glad you have her.”

“For now.”

“It’s not like you’ll lose the ways she changed you when she leaves.” Natasha pats Steve on the arm before she leaves the kitchen. “And if losing her is too much to bear, you could always ask Wanda to put all your memories of her in a box and hide it somewhere in your mind where you’ll never find it.”

“Very reassuring, thanks.”

She waves as she disappears around the corner and calls out, “It’s what I’m here for Steve.”

“Okay, what am I looking at here?”

“We’re trying to recreate whatever it is Richards threw together to get you here,” Tony says. “Not that I know for sure what he did. Your descriptions weren’t all that helpful.”

(Y/N) grimaces. “Sorry. Can’t really say I’m any more helpful back home. I mostly just make sure Reed doesn’t blow himself up.”

“No, I understand. This is new territory for us. It’s not every day we need to travel between dimensions.”

“I know. I appreciate the fact that you’re willing to help at all.”

Tony leans against his work table, arms folded. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

(Y/N) shrugs. “I fell into your lap. There’s nothing saying you needed to take me in and make sure I get back home.”’

“It’s what any decent human being would do. Or should do, at least.”

“Regardless, I appreciate it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Now-” Tony rubs his hands together- "what can you tell us about Richards' monstrosity?"

"Not much. As long as you avoid overheating and loose wiring, I'm sure you'll be fine."

"That's your criteria for a good machine?"

"Well, the last one kind of fell apart and blew me up, so yeah. If anyone can circumnavigate that, you probably can."

"We really need to put you in therapy."

"Eh, I think I'm doing fine, all things considered."

“Those things you’re considering are being blown up by your employer and getting sucked into a different reality. Sure, you’re handling it great. But, speaking from experience, you could always be handling it better.”

“Ah, an idealist in every reality, I see.”

“Not sure I like the sound of that.”

“You’ll get used to it. Maybe.”

Tony sighs, and shakes his head. “Do you have much going on these days?”

“Steve and I have lunch most days. Natasha and I just started training too. So not really, I guess.”

“Training with Natasha is impressive. How’s that going?”

“Well enough. I have these powers, but I don’t really know how to use them outside of my regular day to day activities.”

“You want something more to do?”

“Why, you have something you need?”

“Well, I know you’re traumatized from your time with Richards, but I was wondering if you’d be willing to muscle around some equipment for Banner and me.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“Well we have a few things that need moving, but we don’t trust the big guy to help and Steve is usually otherwise occupied. You’re our last resort.”

“What about your suits?”

Tony grimaces. “They’re in the shop for repairs, at the moment.”

“No shit?”

“Not joking. It’s incredibly embarrassing.”

(Y/N) laughs. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

“So you’ll help?”

She shrugs. “Sure, why not? It’s not like I’m doing much else.”

Tony’s shoulders sag with the release of tension. “Thank you.”

“If I tell you I think something’s gonna blow up, you listen to me though. I’m not getting burned again.”

“Agreed. None of us are desperate for a repeat.”

(Y/N) holds her hand out to Tony and he shakes it. “Then I do believe we have a deal.”

-----

Part 7

At last, we have our answers about the Reader character's place in this reality with a side of existential crisis. I'm excited to get deeper into the story and have them settle in a little more in the tower.

But! As always, I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! Do you think they'll be able to get the Reader home? Is working with Tony and Bruce a good idea? Is Natasha a little too invested in Steve's relationship wtih the Reader? Be sure to reblog, comment, and/or shoot me an ask and tell me all about it!

Tag List:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @buckysendoftheline, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhite', @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @feelmyroarrrr, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @hermionie-is-my-queen, @darling-loki, @geeksareunique, @nyxveracity, @lemonadeorange73, @sad-darksoul, @tofeartheunknown, @queenoftheunderdark, @avengerscompound, @patzammit, @otterlycanadian

This Fic:

@brattymum96, @vicmc624

#steve rogersxreader #readerxsteve rogers #steve rogers x reader #reader x steve rogers #steverogersxreader #readerxsteverogers #reader insert marvel fanfiction

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quitealotofsodapop · 5 months ago

Note

Tang's shrieked tang through the air. Sandy and Pigsy shared a glance before the both of them rushed into the forest, following the sound of their friend. When they burst from the foliage, through the cave they swore wasn't there before, and into the clearing they were met with a shocking sight. The first thing they noticed was the giant peach tree with a rather nice looking if rundown hut by a cliffside. The next thing they noticed was their friend on the ground, pointing dramatically st something at the tree's roots, a pair of young children they never met before clinging to his back as they tried to peek at whatever it was that had Tang so shocked.

As they approached the pig squinted, trying to see what was so special. It looked like some sort of rock was sticking out of the dirt, likely dug up by the kids based on the dirt on their claws and clothing. The only thing special about it was the fact it seemed to be a statue of a monkey, but as Pigsy watched a break akin to an eggshell breaking suddenly appeared at where it's heart would have been, as gold leaked through the cracks. At the same time, Pigsy began to feel a low buildup of power, his limited senses telling him it's coming from the statue. Realizing what's happening, Pigsy grabbed Tang and pulled him back.

"Tang... TANG GET BACK!!"

There was an explosion of golden light and debris as the statue shattered, exploding outward in the wave of dirt and stone. Covering his face, Pigsy could not make out much, but he could have sworn he saw a silhouette within open glowing red and gold eyes before the light snuffed itself out as suddenly as it came. Taking a peek, he found that in the statues place was a suddenly VERY real monkey covered in so much dust and dirt it was impossible to tell the natural color of its fur. As he watched, the monkey demon fell forward, nearly handing on the dirt had Sandy not moved to catch it. His old friend held the creature in his arms tenderly as he checked for a pulse.

"He's got a pulse!"

Holy dumplings... the monkey was ALIVE! And it proved it too by letting out a huge gasp and coughing before falling silent as Sandy rubbed it's back, falling back into sleep as Sandy carefully lifted him, cradling him as he would a kitten as he looked over at the hut.

"He's been through a lot, we need to get him somewhere safe!"

"NOT SO FAST!!"

A feminine voice rang through the clearing as the wind began to pick up around them, whipping about at inadvertently typhoon as a woman in red with a strange, horn like hair style appeared. The older of the two children, a red bull calf, let out a squeal.

"MAMA!!"

The woman spared a soft smile as the child ran towards her, hiding behind her skirt, before her gaze hardened and she shifted and pointed the biggest fan Pigsy had ever seen in his life in their direction threateningly.

"Let him go. You know not what you risk by awakening my brother from his rest, leave him be and return to your ship, never step foot upon this island again!"

Century Stone Egg au!!

Tang thinking he found a super-cool artifact after trying to stop two weird toddlers from jumping into a waterfall. Only for the "artifact" to be the prone form of a suspiciously familar monkey demon!?

And now Princess Iron Fan is here!?!

Tang is screaming both from her threat, and from fanboy-ing over meeting her!

And maybe a little from realising that the little bull demon thats been bossing him around for past half hour is likely The Red Child!?

The exact moment PIF brought her baby over, Red Son was off like a rocket towards The Waterfall. He knew from stories about "Uncle Shihou" that the Waterfall was important to him. And if Red Son wanted his Baba free, he needed Uncle's help!

Only for a certain baby dragon (camping with her parents) to see an odd flame deep in the jungle and go flying/toddling off after it.

And for a wandering washed-ashore scholar to see these baby dragon and demon get too close to a waterfall and get worried!

Red Son: "Hmm. To find Uncle, I'll need to go through this waterfall. But Mama says I'm not supposed to do things like that with an adult to help me..." Bby Mei: (*pondering baby dragon noises*) Tang, out of breath from running: "Why *huff* are you two *huff* so close to the waterfall? It's dangerous!" Red Son: "Oh look, there's an adult. Now we can jump in." Tang: "Eh!?" (*Red Son grabs the scholar by the hand and pulls him, running full speed at the waterfall. Mei clings to Tang's back, giggling excitedly. Tang is screaming*)

Wukong had placed "exceptions" on his Waterfall seal to allow people/souls he deemed safe to find his baby, should the Stone Egg process take his life.

We also discussed PIF refering to Wukong as "Shihou", esp in stressful situations. It was the name Bull was allowed call him, a privilege of the King's closest family members.

PIF tries to downplay *who* the dirty monkey is by referring to him by "Shihou" - only for Tang to find a certain circlet-shaped scar and perk up with "Sun Wukong!?! Lore?!"

THEN Nezha shows up, summoned by the distressed Ao-Long couple to help find their missing pup. He immediately starts freaking out too.

#lmk century stone egg au #stone egg talk #lmk tang #lmk pigsy #lmk sandy #lmk princess iron fan #lmk pif #lmk mei #long xiaojiao #sun wukong #lmk aus #lmk #lego monkie kid

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emjiroki · 9 months ago

Text

Good Graces

Priest! Satoru Gojo x Reader ft Bishop! Suguru

Warnings: explicit scenes and language, corruption, religion, taking of virginity

A/N: Sorry everyone for this being a day late! got a horrible migraine yesterday and couldn't finish this. But we're back with our second fic of kinktober! Hope everyone enjoys!

likes, comments, and reblogs treasured like gold

“Be it done unto me according to thy word” You said, finishing the last line in your repeated Hail Mary prayer.

“How many was that?” Satoru asked you, his palm running over the redding skin of your cheeks where he had you bent across his lap.

“Nine” You breathed, trying to gather yourself before the next onslaught of swats. His hands were so cool against your stinging flesh.

“One more,” he said softly and sternly, " and your sins should be forgiven then.”

Your sin? Looking too long at Bishop Suguru at Mass this evening.

The Priest did not take kindly to being “so blatantly ignored” by his favorite congregant.

You always sat front and center, right within the ethereal gaze of your Priest, listening to his sermons with riveted attention at the clear calm of his voice sending goosebumps across your flesh.

People whispered of him being heaven-sent, a divine being, someone molded by God himself.

But if people knew the things Satoru had taught you in the privacy of his office and the walls of his home, They would say other things.

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee” You began, raising your hands in contrition as the blood rushing had your head swimming.

Smack

“Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb”

Smack

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen”

Smack

You took a deep breath, not wanting to let your voice crack as you swallowed thickly.

“Behold the handmaid of the Lord: Be it done unto me according to thy word”.

Smack

“A bit heavy-handed there,” Suguru said from across the desk.

“Not at all Suguru, She needs to learn to keep her eyes on me and me only” The white-haired priest said with a ruthful smile.

“Seems like you have problems with control, Satoru,” Suguru replied, taking a sip of his tea, “She can’t even look at another man, despite your interest and temptation by her being a sacrilege”.

“How could I not be tempted by her?” Satoru asks, moving you up to straddle his lap with your back to his chest, your skirt still down on the floor at his feet, “I would break every holy vow I ever made to have her”.

These two men talking about you as if you weren’t in the room spread half bare on your priest's lap was doing things you never expected. Your skin was warming, your breath getting a little more heavy, and wetness beginning to leak from between your legs.

“Just look how pretty she is Suguru,” Satoru implored, his long fingers moving down to trace over the hair at your mound and down to your clit, glistening with your arousal, “So wet and pink all for me”.

You gasped as his fingers dipped into your entrance, just enough to make you clinch. Satoru pulled his fingers away shiny, groaning low in his throat.

“Try this pure ambrosia and you'll see what I mean” Satoru said, extending his hand across the desk.

You expected Suguru to refuse, roll his eyes, maybe say something nasty but no. As if pulled by a leash he leaned forward and enveloped the light haired man's fingers, sucking your arousal off his digits with a gleam in his dark eyes.

“Hmm I suppose I do see what you mean” Suguru hummed.

“I knew you would see it my way," the white haired man smirked, “and you want me to ruin you, don't you Angel?”. His breath was warm against your ear as his hand moved down to free himself of his pants, his election hot and hard against your leaking cunt.

“Please” you whispered, rutting your hips down and catching the head of his cock along your rim.

“My sweet one,” Satoru murmured as he hooked his hands under your knees, “so ready for me”.

You squealed and kicked your feet as the first inch sank into you, pushing tenderly against your virgin wall.

“shh shh I'll be easy” he said, flashing his blue eyes to Suguru as he leaned back in his seat.

You could feel Satoru's hands shake a bit as your pussy clenched around him and tried to suck him in. Your arousal leaked out around him. You gasped as Suguru leaned forward with a questioning look in his eyes as his hand raised towards your mound, the look in his eyes asking for permission.

His finger moved down to rub circles against your clit, a low moan bubbling up your chest as pleasure shot through your body.

“I don't remember telling you that you could touch her,” Satoru said in a warning tone.

“Better to ask for forgiveness than permission” Suguru replied, a soft smirk on his lips as Satoru sucked his teeth in annoyance.

You cried out as Satoru plunged the rest of his cock in, a ring of blood around the base of him staining the white hair there pink as he began to move you slowly up and down.

“She's so… tight fuck” He hissed, his heart pounding against your back and his abdomen flexing.

Your senses were going haywire. The pleasure from Suguru’s fingers rubbing your sensitive clit and Satoru’s cock stretching you out, Satoru’s warm kiss against your throat, and the murmured words of encouragement had your blood running hot.

The burning knot that had formed in your stomach seemed to be shredding at the seams the longer this onslaught continued, debauched sounds escaping your mouth sounding so foreign.

“I’m- God Satoru I’m-” You moaned, your toes curling.

“Cum for me Angel, bring me to heaven” Satoru practically begged.

A sharp cry filled the room as you hit your peak, wetness dripping down to slip between your cheeks and onto the cloth of the chair.

When Satoru moved you off to lay against his desk, your head was barely clear. His cock glistens with a mix of your cum and virgin blood.

“How many more of those can we get from her Suguru?” Satoru asked, his hands moving up to rub and tug on your nipples.

“As many as she wants,” Suguru said, “The better question is, how many does she deserve for taking you so well her first time?”

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #priest! satoru gojo #x reader smut #jjk smut #kinktober 2024 #em writes ✍#em talks 👄

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nu11lar · 2 years ago

Text

𐚁֙࿐ losing control arataki itto︱ maybe teasing him too much wasn't such a good idea...

𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 ... fem! reader, feminine petnames (baby, slut, etc.), pwp (without plot), handjob, teasing, overstimulation, edging, mating press (includes other previous positions but they're not described to the story), size kink, belly bulge, rough sex, cervix fucking, you grab his horns while he pounds into you 🤭, dirty talk, slight dacryphilia, dumbification, faint mentions of pregnancy, lmk if i miss any !

ପ₍ᐢ𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 ᐢ₎ଓ ... this drabble or fic is inspired by this (nsfw) audio over here, azeru's patreon is so juicy it makes my punani throb over and over. esp this one omfg hear this audio before u read it idc it's so ughhjdfjsjkskj

"stop teasin' me baby," he rasped while his gaze averted down, seeing you give his cock slow and deliberate pumps before your thumb presses firmly but gently down his red tip. thin and thick ropes of his previous orgasm dripped down his length and balls, with each stroke and pump you give to him leaves his body into shambles, lewdly moaning out your name and his back arching in pure bliss was a balm to your shell.

his breath caught his throat once your strokes grew quicker, his claws digging down to the soft pillows that were sprawled around the bed,"ohfuck- don't stop.." a low groan bubbled within his throat, throwing his head back against the headboard as his body jerked. a soft giggled elicited from your lips, seeing his fucked out state from just a few handjobs,"what if i stopped?" you asked coyly, a playful glint capturing your eyes as itto grew a little frustrated,"don't stop- m' bein' serious baby... d-don't stop," he tried hard enough to sound stern and to at least make you obey his requests, but he sounded so pathetic; his cracked whines and whimpers only fueled your desire to tease him further.

you felt in awe, enjoying such an erotic scene that landed upon your eyes. his reactions evident to your touch as his lower abdomen were being left with strings of cum as his cock was sheen with slick and pre,"gonna cum, gonna cum.." he whimpered, his breath quickening as his chest rose and fell at a fast pace,"hmm? oni s'gonna cum already?" you cooed teasingly but all that you received was a rumbling groan that was heard from his mouth, he chewed down his lower lip that little points of his canines were shown. just before he was about to reach his sweet release, he felt something completely neglect his starving cock, your hand pulling out of his length as you scooted back from him; acting like as if you were leaving him,"wh- were you goin' ?!" he whined, looking at you with a confused and a frustrated expression. you only giggled in response, thinking everything is funny and that you would get the hang of this, big big mistake.

"oh no you're not," he mumbled and just as you were about to 'leave', he pounced over you, his beefy and broad figure covering half of your body as you were now pinned against the mattress. who's laughing now? the roles switched suddenly, him now being under control for all of this which is now your turn to give in your submission to him,"you're not gonna leave 'till you make me cum," he said with a low growl, one of his hands holding up his leaking cock as a way to show you what you're going to deal with the next couple of hours.

"moremoremore, o-ohhh my god.." he chanted repeatedly, his relentless thrusts quickening its pace as his nails dug deep into your sensitive flesh as he raised up your legs more, your knees pressing against your chest as he positioned himself in a different angle. his cock hitting all the sweet spots that make your spongy walls tighten around his length and to make your body coil in an overwhelming amount of pleasure. cracked moans and whines escape your lips as you felt his tip bulge through your stomach with each deep thrust, making him grab onto your hand and press your fingers firmly onto your lower abdomen while he continues on his quick pace, "ya feel that? look how deep i am.. fuck-" you felt his cock plunge in and out of you as sticky juices overflowed your drooling cunt from the other postions that he did before.

missionary, doggy style, downward doggy, prone bone, cow girl, reverse cowgirl, almost all of the positions that you could possibly think of were recreated by him. your brain couldn't process any longer and your thoughts were turned into mush, not thinking of anything but his thick cock just stretching your folds and folding your body like a flip phone. pearls of cum smeared all over your pussy as it dripped down your ass and onto the sheets, breeding you countless times that you just might actually be pregnant,"i'm gonna breed you, and breed you and... ohh fuckk! tighten around me again yeah?" he chuckled dryly as he leaned his upper body over to press his chest against your bouncing breasts,"mmph!- s'too muchh! fuuck gonna cum againn!" your hands were searching its way for something to grab on, but the only thing you could hold yourself onto was his horns. your fingers gently but quickly wrapped around his so what senstive horns that made him let out a loud gasp,"f-fuck, can't hold on huh?" he rasped as a chuckle escaped his lips, only for him to raise your legs just a bit higher so that he could snuggle himself deeper into your warm cunt.

"ittoo! s'deep..!" you whined, tears pooling down your cheeks as his tip assaulted your cervix. everything was so messy, so hot and sticky that the mirror of your vanity could practically fog up,"gonna cum inside you over and over again yeah? wanna make you a mommy.." itto sounded breathless, like he was running a whole track field,"gonna make this little cunt remember the shape of my dick, a-and... ohmygoddd," he moaned once he felt your walls hugging his cock tightly again, his thrusts stuttering each time as he felt close to his high,"gonna cum, gonna cum... fuck!- cumming s'muchh!" you don't even know what you're saying at this point, blabbering incoherently as desperate crys and pleas fill in his ears while you clearly are begging for release, but this was payback for what you did a few hours ago.

"yeah? y'wanna cum? what if i pull out hmm?" he teased, mimicking the same thing that you did to him while you were stroking his cock,"nonono! please- ohmygod don't pull out ittoo!" you rolled your hips, trying to reach in for that sweet release before his thrusts grew sharper and more forceful,"yeaah, you fuckin' slut... want me to fill ya up yeah? you want that?" a mocking expression was evident in his face, nails digging into your flesh as he ravaged your insides, your cunt growing senstive as you kept on repeating "gonna cum!".

with one final thrust he managed to spill his seed inside your, filling you to the brim again. a low growl elicited from his throat, closing his eyes shut as the pleasure loomed over the both of you, bringing eachother to the bink of ecstasy as everything turned into a blurr. a squeal escaped your mouth and it was music to his ears, your body tensing up from the pleasure as the smell of sex was present within the room,"look at you, ohh yesyesyes... let it out baby, mhm," he reassures as he kept on rocking his hips back and forth, stimulating your aftershocks. you looked absolutely destroyed, hair sprawled in the pillows, chest heaving heavily, body trembling and shivering with each caress and touch he could give, and your insides feeling overly sensitive.

after itto collected himself he looked down at you. you still were in shambles, a pure, filthy mess just for him to see. he chuckled as worry washes over him a little bit, did he go too overboard? was it actually too much for you to handle?

he felt your grip on his horns loosen, your arms falling back down into the mattress like a noodle as you were still catching your breath,"a-are you okay? i didn't go too far, did i?" he asked with slight concern, his big hands massaging your hips as he tried to ease your body after such an intense moment,"n-no... m' fine.." you managed to get those words out of your mouth as itto let out a relieved sigh,"thank god, did it hurt or anything?" he smiled softly, his body relaxing as he swallowed in your expressions. even though you were a complete mess you were still beautiful from his point of view, you chuckled lightly from how worried he was which only made you pull him in for a soft kiss. he was taken aback from the sudden move but he found himself melting to your touch, but... he grew hard, again.

he hissed in pleasure as he could feel his erection growing,"look at what you did, makin' me hard again from just a kiss.." itto found the situation silly, but of course he could go in for another round of pounding info you, only if you want to though. your eyes averted down to his throbbing cock, seeing his tip leak with pre-cum, you gulped nervously now having to deal with who knows what round of getting fucked dumb,"c'mere..." he beckoned with his hand, pulling you close to him until your tits stick against his sweaty chest. his hips moved slowly and deliberately, one of his hand wrapped around you as the other held up your thigh to reach in deeper,"i'll be gentle, i promise..." he whispered softly, but you know damn well he'll be rough like he was before. nodding gently, you were sure you'll have to hold on tight against him, for the last time.

"i promise my ass.."

#itto x reader #itto smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut

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