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honey-tongued-devil · 2 months ago

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↞[arcane preference] founding out you were injured in crossfire↠

Since I've created a Bluesky profile and wrote my thesis on Arcane, I'll be posting both old and new drawings there as soon as the time comes. I'm taking advantage of this little space to promote my other social account. honey-tongued.bsky.social Also, I've received both comments and requests, but Tumblr decided I couldn’t post for a week (my internet connection is terrible). I want to let you know that I appreciate them, and I'll get to everything as soon as I can. So, feel free to leave comments, feedback, or requests!

Jayce:

- This is the worst news he could receive: he's a scholar, he has no idea how to handle these situations, and, most of all, he's forced to confront his pride.

- Not only was he unable to protect you now, but what if it happens again? Even if he's there, he wouldn't know what to do.

- What if there's a next time? What if it doesn't turn out as well next time?

- His self-sabotage leads him to distance himself from you for a few days, not because he doesn't want to be near you while you're hurting, but because he's ashamed of not being able to protect the person he loves.

- On the bright side, for even just a second, he remembers the original purpose of his research: making the city safe, helping people.

- But on the negative side, with no one to blame, more than ever, the people of Zaun appear to him as beasts, second-class humans who can't be redeemed in any way.

- When he finally gathers the courage to see you again, he tries to make amends for everything: for not protecting you, for not being able to, for allowing someone to hurt you, and for not being there during your recovery.

- He'll literally do anything to be forgiven: every morning you'll find breakfast in bed, if it's cold at night he'll prepare a warmer for your feet, and despite his squeamishness, he'll personally tend to your wounds, even if it makes him feel queasy.

Viktor:

- He tries to help you in every way possible, even ignoring his own pain.

- He feels sadness, regrets that you went out alone and ended up in such a situation. He can't help but imagine the fear you must have felt, the confusion, and the loneliness when the guards intervened, and you woke up alone in the hospital.

- He may be a scholar, but first and foremost he's a man with a moral code, and secondly, he's from Zaun: if he has any work, appointments, or lectures, he'll skip them all, maybe muttering a few insults in his thick accent at the most insistent people, and make up for it at night.

- Plans, ideas, codes, anything – but he won't leave you alone unless you ask him to.

- He takes care of you meticulously, respecting schedules, bringing you meals in bed, changing your bandages until your skin heals, and you're able to stand on your own again.

- He doesn't mind helping you – as a chronically ill person who refuses others' help, he's learned to do everything on his own, and he's almost happy that his skills can be useful to someone else.

Ekko:

- Is it something totally normal in the lanes? Yes.

- Does this stop Ekko from panicking? No.

- He's the one who finds you and brings you to the others, but he doesn't want, nor can he afford, to be seen panicking. So, he swallows his despair and tries to act as normal as possible while ten other people rush to help you.

- His face remains expressionless as the most skilled remove debris, clean the wound, stitch your torn flesh, and bandage you, but his foot keeps tapping the floor with force and speed, revealing his anxiety.

- When the others insist that it's best you stay in the makeshift infirmary, he tries not to protest, but suddenly every moment of the day becomes an excuse to pass by: to bring you stolen sweets from Piltover, to tell you about some expedition, maybe even steal a kiss or fall asleep leaning against your mattress.

- It's an overwhelming fear, but the fear of losing you makes him unable to think rationally, and all he feels is how much he misses you, even while you're right there with him.

Vander:

- A crossfire from the other side of the river was already a big enough provocation to alert him and prepare to defend the city or, if absolutely necessary, to strike back.

- But you, as an accidental victim, are a huge problem.

- He doesn’t have the heart to pull away from you, and when he does, he can’t help but feel frustrated, angry at himself, knowing he hasn’t been able to keep his city under control like he promised—to you, to Piltover, to everyone.

- He’ll ask for your forgiveness by kissing the scarred skin every day, even if you insist it’s not his fault, and if you remember even one of the faces, he’ll go and handle the problem.

- Not with violence, unless necessary, but it’s not about personal justice; rather, it’s about protecting the other citizens of the alleys too.

- Even after you’ve healed, he’ll insist it’s absolutely necessary to carry you everywhere you need to go, claiming a very good doctor told him so.

- And the memory of the scar will be tiny compared to all the marks Vander has left on you.

Silco:

- Private justice is absolutely the first option, even though you were an accidental victim.

- He’ll call all his goons and associates for a meeting while you’re still bedridden, to see if they’ve heard, seen, or been involved in any armed conflict, and if he doesn’t get a face or a name from them, he’ll turn to the brothel, the house of all information,

- Until he finds who hurt you and makes sure they can’t do it again.

- Silco isn’t fazed by blood or open wounds, but despite having enough experience to handle it himself, at least on the first day, he’ll take you to Singed to make sure you’re in the best condition.

- In the following days, he’ll take care of you himself, but he has pride, a façade, and little emotional communication skills, so he won’t openly show how worried he is, relying entirely on the fact that you don’t know about the murder of your assailant and remember nothing of the visit to Singed.

- But the only reason you heal so well and so quickly is that, even if he doesn’t know how to express it, all the love he feels is poured into the care he gives you.

Jinx:

- Flashbacks. So many. Too many.

- At some point, she’ll even convince herself that she’s the one who shot you, leading to a complete breakdown.

- She punches her head, scratches herself without realizing it, her nose bleeds, and her eyes are bloodshot.

- It takes her a while to convince herself that she wasn’t the one who shot you, even though the hallucinations overlap images of you with memories of her armed, creating waking nightmares that feel increasingly real.

- As much as she’d like to ask her father for help, even just to give you a cleaner room, she feels responsible and is too scared that if she stays away from you, you’ll forget her. That’s why she sets up a little space for you and takes care of you herself, though not always painlessly.

- She’s pulled bullets out of her own body more times than not after missions; what might seem like dangerous, delicate work to someone else is almost routine for her by now.

- Once she has a suspicion of who might have done it, she’ll make sure they learn their lesson.

Vi:

- Anger.

- Why were you out alone? Why didn’t you leave as soon as you saw the crowd getting too big? Why were you in that area?

- But her anger is just panic pouring out like a flood, the fear of not being able to protect the one she loves twists her stomach, making her feel like she might throw up, like she’s dying inside.

- None of those questions mean she blames you, but she doesn’t know how to feel, what to think, or even what to do.

- She’ll do everything to help you—bandaging you, cleaning your wounds, staying silent and giving her full attention to make up for not being there when you needed her, even though that’s not true.

- And when the scar forms, she’ll kiss it every single day, every single night, like a little ritual between the two of you.

Caitlyn:

- Safety first.

- She’ll be the one to assess how bad the injury is, and if there are any foreign objects in your body, there’s a good chance she’ll try to handle it herself, even though at first it might seem a bit barbaric.

- She’ll give you the guest room and call the family doctor to make sure you’re okay, that you don’t need anything else, and she’ll take care of what’s necessary, even teasing you a bit to hide her worry.

- "A bullet in the leg from being caught in crossfire? Very vintage, I must say."

- What you won’t know is that she’ll quietly increase security, not in an oppressive way, but just enough to make both you and the other citizens feel safer.

- Her family won’t get involved directly, but they won’t stop her either. Sometimes Cassandra herself will make sure her daughter finds the tray to bring up to you, though she’ll never be too open about it.

- The perfect rehabilitation? Long walks in the villa’s garden, so you can stop for some cookies or tea when you get tired.

Mel:

- Flashbacks, but less personal than Jinx’s.

- Her mother would call her weak if she knew how it kills her to see someone barely scratched by crossfire, and that realization soon turns into frustration, which then becomes anger.

- She tries to stay calm, but her voice sounds like she’s scolding you, and then like she’s scolding the servants, or anyone else who crosses her path.

- Two hours of lecture if you’re lucky—why you shouldn’t go out without a guard, why you shouldn’t put yourself in dangerous situations, why the enforcers are utterly useless and can’t find anyone responsible, even though the fight was so intense.

- She’ll focus entirely on the bureaucratic side because little Mel was never taught how to deal with strong emotions, and she’s definitely feeling them now but can’t afford that vulnerability, even though she knows you’re safe.

- She won’t take care of you herself, but she’ll always stay in the room. Not because she doesn’t want to, to be clear, but because she wants you to have the best care possible and prefers to leave it to a top professional rather than her inexperienced hands.

- In return, she’ll triple the amount of affection and caresses—more to calm herself than you, but you won’t be the one to complain.

Sevika:

- She needs a moment.

- She knows she has to report to Silco that there was a firefight, that someone is threatening the people, but part of her just wants to grab those responsible and crush their heads with her bare hands, doing both you and her boss a favor. Yet, another part of her doesn’t want to leave you alone or take you with her.

- She knows how to handle these things; she’s lost an arm, and Silco’s goons often come back in worse shape, which is why she’ll take care of you herself, in complete silence.

- She’ll wait until you’re asleep to place a water bottle, a glass, some painkillers, and some bread on the nightstand next to your bed. And when she’s sure you’re fully asleep, she’ll leave a soft kiss on your forehead before putting on her cloak and heading out to the Last Drop.

- There, she’ll release her anger in a brawl or two, talk to her boss, and search for the reason why she feels so awful at the bottom of her third glass of whiskey.

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pomefioredove · 8 months ago

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having a crush on you

summary: how they would act having a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel) additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy

he's slowly losing his mind about this

"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind

it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this

hasn't even really thought about it

so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance

and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell

he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"

(maybe a little too well)

but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed

he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs

so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it

in his head

and then does nothing about it for months

...what? he's busy

things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling

well... it doesn't pass

he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt

and you know what?

he is totally cool about it.

just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards

he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up

which again, just makes him crazy

(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)

I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!

there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate

is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...

the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad

he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him

and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves

just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one

(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)

while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you

you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping

you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!

your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it

he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always

but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone

the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else

when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself

why?

he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known

he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all

for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break

(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)

is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.

this is Rook we're talking about

on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute

he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling

seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...

definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room

along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over

(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)

you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often

or a few cans of tuna for Grim

all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference

except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day

Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling

though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy

Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey

and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you

he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard

𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫

first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much

second of all he's going to beg for a chance

maybe not in that exact order

Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal

not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy

suddenly he cares about looking nice

(much to Vil's approval)

and now he wants to do nice things for you?

he's gonna bite you

how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!

don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!

then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.

he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship

...yeah, right? right.

if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...

he might be okay with it!

obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you

starts making comments about how tough practice was on him

will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again

he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)

obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling

(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)

but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess

super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #epel felmier x reader #queued

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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year ago

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Mafia konig and his sweet innocent assistant

OMG!! MAFIA KONIG!! My mom was obsessed with TV show about ex-spec ops soldiers starting a criminal ring as a friend group because they didn't have any opportunities after being discharged from the military and...well, let me introduce you to this: Mafia!Konig as a discharged colonel Konig, was let go from the military with(thankfully) enough connections and retirement funds that his little hobby of smuggling guns from poorer Eastern European countries into Austria and Germany(both having horribly strict gun laws) for the less fortunate criminal rings. He gets them guns and drugs -- much lower prices too, thank god for his Prague connections and cheap labor -- and they get him money and power. Mafia!Konig who isn't your typical suit-wearing nice and clean-cut mob boss. He still wears his uniform - not because he wants to taint the suit, but because of his connections as the guy on the inside in the special forces - he was booted out of the army because of his age and traumas, even though he refused until his last day at the forces. He won't ever let anyone tear that form away from him - you just know he fucks you in his office in full gear, bouncing you on his cock as you're forced to beg your colonel to let you cum. Wearing his dog tags as the sign of ownership - as you're nothing but his obedient pet. Mafia!Konig has a solid reputation. A center that helps veterans overcome their traumas and find new purpose in life after exiting special forces - and you're his pretty assistant, just an innocent thing that runs around and does all of his paperwork because Colonel hates doing it! And you want to keep your job, you want to be useful, you're a good girl that doesn't question the suspicious numbers and shady people that attend some of his other totally legal businesses. You know better than to accuse people who served your country of being a dishonest bunch of thugs. Mafia!Konig who knows this is bad for you - innocent thing, you shouldn't ever be wrapped in his schemes, he only hired you because he wanted someone nice, someone kind to hang on to. He is doing terrible things every day, not shading from murders, assassinations and contraband smuggling - but he can come to you and place his head on your chest, just laying here for a few minutes as you stroke his head and relieve all of his anxieties.

Mafia!Konig who eventually convinces you to be his girlfriend. His trophy wife even, eventually - he wants to take care of you, to free you from having a job and worry about money...he has all means to make your life in Vienna as sweet as possible, cute thing, and he even hired move assistants for his more illegal doings just so your only job would be bringing him coffee and sucking him off under a table after the closes a very important weapons deal, forcing his thick cock in your willing throat as he promises to take you to the mountains on Christmas.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #mafia!konig #yandere konig

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disgustingtwitches · 8 days ago

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A Rose in Harlem

Simon Riley is an enigma—a brooding, complex man with a shadowed past that he can’t escape. You’re just an ordinary person until he claws his way into your life and you can't help but give in to him. The only problem is that you try to keep things casual, while Simon's never been one to settle for that.

Long live the rose that grew from concrete, when no one else ever cared.

Masterlist

PART 3

(He longs to be) Close to you

***

You freeze, heart pounding, the moment shattered. Who the fuck is that? You think to yourself, panic creeping in. Another knock then a familiar, playful voice from the other side of the door.

“Bitch! I know you're home!”

“Oh my God. Ishta.”

You completely forgot about your little watch party with her. This can't be happening now. Of course it's happening right now.

“Hm, that a girlfriend I don't know about?”

Simon murmurs, nuzzling his face to your neck.

“You need to go.”

Your voice is low, urgent, but it only seems to amuse him. His hands wrap around your waist, pumping his hips upwards, rubbing himself against your soaked underwear.

“What, you're kicking me out? Just like that?”

He nips at your neck, making you yeep. He tightens his hold, long arms locking you in.

You tense, trying to wiggle from him but him and his stupidly defined arms aren't budging.

“I'm serious; you need to leave, now.”

You twist in his arms, your anxiety growing as Ishta's knocking gets louder. She's never been patient.

You can feel his lips curve into a smile.

“You're tense, should relax a bit.”

“Relax?! Oh my God, I'm gonna kill you.”

You snap in a hushed tone, yanking yourself free (well, more like he finally relents and lets you go). You tug your shorts up while he follows suit, much more leisurely than you. He quips while letting you drag him towards the fire escape,

“Can't believe I'm the other woman, thought I was special, angel.”

“You're not making this easy.”

“Mistresses rarely do.”

Simon smirks, while you pull him to the window. Ishta knocks again, louder this time.

“Stop jerking off, the ice cream is melting!”

Simon snickers and you push him through the window onto the fire escape. His large frame steps out, stretching out while he turns to you.

“What? No kiss goodbye?”

“Simon!”

He doesn't budge until you lean out the window, planting a quick, chaste kiss on his scared lips. His hand cups the back of your neck, practically shoving his tongue down your throat, before you wrench yourself away.

“Bye.”

The words come out harsher than you mean while you shut the window, watching him slip into his place, not trusting him to sneak back into yours.

Ishta's voice whines from behind your front door. You smooth out your clothes, pasting a sheepish, wide smile. You take a deep breath before opening your door.

“Hey girl! Sorry I-”

“Was jerking off thinking about your neighbor? I know girl. Get that nut in friend.”

She empties her tote, sets some wine bottles down and grabs two cups from the kitchen before bending to sit on the couch. You wince watching her try to sit where his bare ass was.

“Oh! No don't-”

She looks at you curiously, frozen mid-squat— your brain scrambling to find something remotely plausible.

“I spilled tuna juice there earlier.”

She narrows her eyes at you, searching your face. She must be satisfied with what she sees because she shrugs and moves to the other side.

“Can't smell fishy. Got a date later.”

She pops open a bottle, pouring a generous amount into each cup. You grab the one she offers and take a seat on the arm of the couch.

“A date, huh? Is it that finance guy from last month?”

She rolls her eyes, turning on the TV.

“Oh God, no. He was so fucking annoying, trust fund baby.”

You laugh a little, grateful for her not pressing you on the couch thing.

“So who's the lucky guy?”

She waves her hand vaguely, her attention already on the TV, looking for a show.

“Met him at the park. He was jogging—shirtless, obviously—and tripped over his own fucking shoelaces. Adorable. Total himbo vibes.”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling into your glass.

“Thought you liked nerds.”

“That's the thing,”

She turned to you, grinning like a fool.

“Ok so, we were talking about showers,”

“Naturally.”

“Naturally. Anyways, he starts going on about different hypotheses of 'the shower curtain effect' with this dumbass smile on his face. I'm trying not to stare at his tits and just ask him if he wants drinks before I start drooling. Obviously, he says yes, and here we are!”

She finishes her glass and helps herself to another. You lean closer to her.

“So what's the plan? Drinks, talk about nerdy shit, and then stumble into his place and ogle at his star wars figurines?”

“First off all,”

She raises a finger.

“He’s an artist, so get it right. And secondly, he's Scottish. So like, the accent makes everything hotter.”

You hum curiously.

“My apologies, I clearly underestimated his international flare.”

“You did. Also, you're welcome for letting you live vicariously through me, by the way.”

She flips her hair over her shoulder.

“Oh, oohh my goodness. Thank you for your graciousness.”

You say in mock appreciation, hand over your heart. Her eyes twinkle when she winks at you.

“Freely granted, my dear. I'll text you all the juicy details.”

“Lucky me.”

You say dryly, swirling your wine glass. Ishta lightly hits your knee.

“Look at us. You got your English guy, I got my Scottish one. Just gotta snatch up an Irish and Welsh one, and we've got a whole set!”

“Please be serious, girl. Also, he's not ‘my guy’, he's just a neighbor.”

“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that. We'll see how long that lasts.”

***

You've been more moody lately. From Ishta unintentionally cock-blocking you, to work being particularly demanding, and finally, Simon terrorizing you relentlessly.

Ever since ‘the incident’ he's been on you like white on rice. He'll stop you in the mornings in the foyer and casually talk about how he came to the thought of you last night or stand behind you in the elevator and grind up against you, laxly apologizing.

“Sorry. It's just such a tight fit here, right angel?”

You silently thank God Simon has the sense to pull these stunts when no one else is around to witness his brand of debauchery (he doesn't, you just got lucky no one's there when he pulls that shit).

You're barely holding onto your patience. Every word he says, every deliberate touch grates on your nerves. He has you on edge, dangling by a thread. A simple nudge could send you tumbling— yet he never quite gives it. Instead, he leaves you like this, toeing the line.

Waiting. Waiting on you to make the jump.

It kind of surprises you, given the whole…incident. You expected him to follow you into your apartment one day and finally consummate whatever twisted, simmering thing you had going on. But he didn't. Seemed to enjoy making you squirm.

***

You could almost forget about him during the day. Almost. Work has been a circus lately, thanks to your boss—the museum curator who seems to thrive on chaos. She’s brilliant, yes, but she’s also impossible. Barking orders, demanding perfection, treating every missed detail like a personal betrayal. You spend your mornings running errands and your afternoons fielding phone calls from artists who need their egos stroked. The only moment of reprieve is when you’re in the gallery itself, away from the madness, the artwork pulling you into a quiet, timeless space.

But even that doesn’t last. Today, you spent hours installing a new piece—a massive, fragile sculpture—and as soon as it was in place, she decided it needed to be moved six inches to the left. Six inches. By the time you got home, your nerves were frayed, your patience long gone.

He’d been waiting in the lobby when you arrived, as if he knew you’d had a long day. His presence suffocating, his voice a low murmur in your ear as he stood too close, his hand brushing your hip when you reached for the elevator button.

“You look tense, angel.”

“Simon, please.”

“‘Please?’ Wow, must've been really bad today.”

He chuckles to himself, like he's so fucking funny.

You rub your eyes, the tired dryness a reminder of the day you'd had. He sees this as an invitation to step behind you and wrap his arms around you. Large frame towering over you, long arms sliding around you.

“Not in the mood for this today, Simon.”

You mutter, void of its usual bite.

You don't even have the energy to push him away when he plants a kiss on the side of your neck, softer than the last time his lips touched your skin.

“So sweet when you're tired out. Wonder if you're like this after-”

The elevator dings and you pull away, pushing his head off your shoulder and trudging to your place. At this point, you're too drained to care about his games, too tired to rise to the bait.

If he wasn't going to stop playing, wasn't going to do anything but pussyfoot around, you had better things to do—like collapse on your bed and sleep for 12 hours straight.

You reach your door and fumble with your keys, cursing under your breath when they decide now is the perfect time to be elusive in your bag.

“Need help?”

You don’t jump. You’re too used to that voice coming from behind you, low and amused. His words echo in your head more than you’d like to admit these days.

“No.”

You say, sharp enough to bite through the air as you finally fish the keys out and shove one into the lock.

It sticks. Of course, it sticks.

He says something you ignore while he leans against the side of the doorframe, watching you struggle. Your head lands on the door with a soft thud, forehead pressing against the cool metal.

“You’ve been quiet tonight. Not like you to let me have the last word.”

“I’m too tired for this.”

“For what?”

“For your bullshit.”

You spit, jiggling the key rougher than necessary.

Simon hums, entertained.

“There she is. Was worried I lost you for a minute.”

The key refuses to turn. Between him looking over your shoulder and the fucking door mocking you, your patience starts to shred, gossamer-thin.

When the door finally opens, you turn to him.

��Do you ever shut up?”

He shrugs.

“Not when I’m having this much fun.”

“You call this fun?”

“Watching you fight with a door? Yeah, a little bit. Had my money on the door though, unfortunately.”

You swear his grin is almost audible under that mask.

Your eyes narrow, heated.

“Don't you have somewhere else to be?”

He doesn't miss a beat.

“No, actually. Not tonight.”

“Of course not, when do you ever?”

You mutter, yanking your keys out of the lock.

“Just keeping the schedule free for you, love.”

“Free to annoy me?”

“Something like that.”

Your eyes drift from his face down to his arms crossed over his chest. His compression shirt doesn't help, the material stretching in a way that feels obscene.

Then while he watches you stare, he flexes subtly.

It pulls a laugh out of you, the sound slipping out before you can help it,

“Whore.”

He pulls his mask down, showing off his own smile. His canines sharp and slightly crooked, but somehow it makes him more attractive. Like he doesn't just accept his imperfections, but wears them proudly, fully aware of their charm.

“Just for you, angel.”

“Your persistence is coming off pathetic.”

You huff half-hearted, crossing your arms.

“Doesn't seem to bother you much.”

Simon goads. You think this is the happiest you've ever seen him.

“It does.”

You lick your teeth, feigning irritation. He mirrors the movement, finishing it off with a smile that makes your face hot.

“Go on then,”

His voice drops lower, thick and languid, molasses poured slow on a hot day.

“Tell me how you really feel.”

It's quiet for a moment. He tilts his head, eyes glinting and the edge you've been teetering on crumbles underneath you, all reservations and restraint gone. You grip the strings of his hoodie and pull him down to your face.

“You're insufferable.”

“Yes.”

“A tease.”

“Mhm.”

“Worst neighbor I've ever had.”

“Ouch.”

He says, though his tone is anything but wounded. If anything, it sounds downright gleeful.

“Makes me wanna do awful things to you.”

You say in a hushed tone, a newfound energy pumping through your veins. The space between you grows smaller as you tug him even closer, his hands instinctively finding your waist, steadying both of you.

“Yeah,”

His voice is low, molten. A scorching heat that flows from his mouth down your chest and stomach.

“Probably use those pretty little hands, leave marks. Bruises I'd feel every time I breathe.”

You twirl the strings around your fingers, leading him into your place. It feels like tugging on a leash tied to a dangerous dog— wild and unpredictable, tethered to you and you only. He catches the door before it slams shut, closing it without looking, dark eyes honed in on you. Makes your stomach do flips.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

His silence is answer enough, a smirk playing on his face. You muse, shoving him toward the couch with a playful push,

“Maybe I'd keep it simple, knife to the heart. If I could find it.”

He spreads out on the cushions, pulling you to him, making you straddle one of his thick thighs.

“Sounds painful, tell me more.”

“Maybe I'd tie you up. Make you beg for your life.”

When you say that, he groans— an honest-to-god groan and his grip on your hips tightens.

“It’d be hard, getting through all that muscle and bone,”

He grabs your wrist, making you press two fingers on the hard, fast pulse right under his jaw.

“Be quicker and easier to hit it right here. Faster way to go out.”

You cock your head to the side, biting back a moan feeling the beat of the vein under his skin go impossibly fast when you hum.

“Think I'm gonna go easy on you?”

His response is instant, almost desperate if you thought he was capable of that emotion.

“I hope to God not.”

He wraps himself around you, pressing you up against his solid frame like he's trying to meld his body to yours.

***

He's been at this for long, too long. He hasn't even taken off either of your pants, all too happy to have you grinding your pants against his denim. It's got you so pent up, you're half crazed, panting in the crook of his neck and mumbling pleas for relief.

“Want you, Simon.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He shakes his head and you groan in frustration.

“Been a real brat lately, can't reward that kind of behavior.”

“Pleasepleaseplease-”

“Sound so pretty, begging for me.”

You're trying anything at this point. Anything but ripping his clothes off. Or yours.

“Don't you wanna feel good too?”

Your tone is so dulcet, it's almost too sweet in your mouth, words dripping with a carefully calculated innocence. You play with the waistband of his jeans, before you can get too far he takes hold of your wrist.

“I know what you're trying to do.”

There's a pause while you pull back to look at him, a sheepish smile on your face.

“Is it working?”

“Hmm…”

“Simon!”

You huff, almost whiny. He relents, only a little, bouncing you on his thigh once before forcing your hips to grind down harder on him. It makes you lean into him again, he presses a soft kiss on your temple, the kind of gesture that feels almost like he's mocking you with a false sense of soothing. As if he feels bad for you—his touch gentle but somehow condescending.

“Poor thing, could've gotten it sooner if you wanted to. Closed mouths don't get fed, you know?”

He sounds amused, lips still brushing against your temple. Your mouth finds its way to his neck, he lulls his head back, giving you more access to it. It's sweet, tender, starting at his collarbone and moving up slowly until you get to the artery he made you press up against earlier. The moment your teeth press up against it, he comes undone.

“Gaggin’ for it that bad?”

The sound of his belt clicking makes you downright giddy, you lick his neck, feeling his heartbeat under your tongue.

“Mhm…”

He grabs your hand to shove it down his pants and your brain goes static for a moment.

“Had me waiting all this time, and now you want it?”

It's growled into your ear, something about the way it's almost spat out, mean—it sends jolts of electricity between your legs.

“C'mon, show me how much you missed it.”

Your face heats up at his words and he lets out an entertained huff.

“He missed you too, ya know.”

A breathless giggle escapes you when he flexes, making his dick jump in your hands. You pull him out of his pants, eyes going wide. You've felt how big he was before, but seeing it was a whole different thing. Made it all real. Something about the way his pink tip peeked out made you laugh a little, a fleeting thought of him blushing everywhere, even on his dick.

“What?”

He furrows his brows a little, curious.

The truth tumbles out of you before you can stop it. You think you've made a mistake until you see him. His face is unreadable at first, and you brace for some sharp quip or a look of annoyance.

But instead, Simon’s reaction is… different. His ears go pink first, followed by a deep flush creeping up his neck. You want to laugh again but he creeps a hand up your spine to the back of your neck, guiding you into light kisses. You still manage to slip out a few giggles in-between, a smile creeping up across his face. It's such a warm moment, you almost forget about holding him until he twitches in your hands.

“Got the prettiest laugh.”

“Is there anything that you don't think is pretty about me?”

You ask, teasing him.

“No.”

His answer is quick, unwavering, and so serious that it makes your breath catch. You search his face, expecting the usual smirk or a sly remark, but there’s nothing there but honesty. He clears his throat, the faintest flicker of vulnerability flashing in his eyes before he tries to mask it.

“Right, let's get these off.”

He guides you off him so you can stand, he shimmies your pants and underwear off. Once you kick off the fabric pooled around your feet he leans forward, breath hot on your mons.

“Missed her.”

He says so quietly, almost to himself.

“Your pretty girl?”

You run a hand over his buzz cut, and he grips the sides of your bare thighs.

“Yeah…my pretty girl.”

A wet kiss on your most sensitive spot makes your legs tense up. He traces slow, indulgent circles, like this was more for him than you. The tension in your body mounting with every flick of his tongue.

He goes on like this until your knees almost give way from a quick, hard suck. He holds you up with a strong grip under the crease of your ass.

“Think you can stand on your own for a minute, love?”

You’re far past the point of throwing a smart remark his way, your body humming with the tension he’s left simmering under your skin. Instead, you nod quickly, eagerly.

“So good for me, angel. How'd I get so lucky, hm?”

It’s less a question and more an indulgence, the kind of thing he says to soak in the moment while he shoves his pants down to his thighs. When he pulls you towards him, guiding you to settle on his lap, just brushing his tip over your slick entrance, you follow without hesitation—soft, pliant, docile.

“Such a sweet thing. Only for me, right?”

Before you get to answer, he drags your hips down, pushing himself inside you. The stretch borders on discomfort—not just because it's been a while, but because he's thicker than anyone you've ever had before.

It's all so overwhelming— his voice, his touch, his body—all glut and heavy with want. The weight of it crashes over you, leaving you dizzy, untethered. Every word he speaks seeps into your skin, warm and lingering, while his hands, firm yet reverent, treat you like something both fragile and fiercely desired.

When he slides you down more, you tense up. Thighs flexing, clenching around him. It draws a curse from him,

“Fuck…yeah, only for me.”

The moment is so much softer than you imagined it to be—aside from him trying to lick the inside of your mouth. It's coos and words of encouragement,

“Look at you, taking it like a big girl,”

“Bet you needed this as much as I did,”

Big, rough hands gliding up and down your body, squeezing gently. Slow, deep strokes sink into you until you're a shaking mess, arms wrapped around him, clinging onto him like he's your lifeline, mumbling nonsense into his neck. He's taking full advantage of the moment, of course, his voice low and dripping with amusement as he watches you come undone for him.

"Gonna be like this all the time now, pet?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Only like this for me, yeah?”

“Mhm.”

You whisper, the words spilling out as easily as your control.

“No one else gets to touch you like this, huh?”

“Uhn-uh.”

Your lips brushing against his neck, your heartbeat hammering against his chest, sweat slick against the skin.

And it goes on like this, making empty promises with the devil. Signing yourself away with no hesitation, no second thoughts. Because he kisses you so tenderly it makes you flutter everywhere. Because the way he lifts you up just to buck his hips up into you makes your brain leak out of your ears. Because here, pressed against him, drowning in his voice and touch, there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

He hits that spot that makes your nerves taught. You're a string wound up too tight, his name spilling from your mouth again and again, each time more ragged, a little more whiny and desperate, until it finally snaps. You shatter, the force knocking the air from your lungs while he throws his head back, your name leaking out like it's the only word he knows. You're overstimulated, thighs burning and shaking while he ruts into you. You're pushing him with flimsy arms, whining about how ‘it's too much’. That only seems to egg him on, though, spurring him to murmur filth between honeyed kisses,

“Gonna ruin you for anyone else,”

“Split you apart everyday and you'll fucking thank me for it, won't you?”

He doesn't even look for an answer from you, more than happy to bask in the mess he made of you. A few more strokes has him choking mid-sentence, sinking so deep inside you think he might've been serious about splitting you apart.

It's quiet for a moment, save for the heavy breaths shared between the two of you

“You with me, angel?”

He sighs, his lips press against the skin right over your heart. He lingers, sucking softly, the kind of pressure that's going to leave the skin tender for days—a reminder of him.

You nod, barely able to find your voice, but he waits-patient, his hands wrapping around yours.

"Yeah…”

You finally manage, squeezing a hand that completely engulfs yours, brushing against it with your thumb.

"Good,"

He whispers, his lips brushing against yours again.

"That's all I need.”

And in the back of your mind, as his touch lingers, there's a small fleeting thought:

Oh, you're fucked.

prev | next

#love whens hes a little evil and manipulative #this one is softer than i planned it to be but oh well!!#soft simon i love you babeyy #a rose in harlem #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #cod x you #cod x reader

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months ago

Note

Vash being flustered by compliments, acting like a total loser please? Lots of “Buwuhh?! uhhh I- That’s really kind of you to-” or him spilling his drink, stumbling on nothing and trying to laugh it off, moments would be extremely appreciated. 🙏♥️

Aweeee thanks for this request!

(note I wrote this with Tristamp Vash in mind)

...........

"You know..your laugh is adorable."

In an instant, Vash fell into silence, the tips of his ears turning a pinkish hue as he stared at you from across the table. With a drink in one hand, he shakily set it down--only to clumsily spilling small droplets onto the flat surface.

But he tried to play it cool by propping his elbow over the mess, smiling. "Ahaha..thanks. That's...actually very nice of you to say. Most people think my laughs are "evil", but-"

"Oh that's nonsense." You leaned over a bit, smirking as you could see the nervous sweat beginning to manifest along your partner's hairline. "That's because they don't know what genuine laughter is. One as joyous as yours is so hard to come by these days. You've been through a lot. Endured things that would easily kill a person's spirit. And here you are, still finding ways to laugh and smile and see the good in others."

"Well..I..I think I deserve to do that every once in a while."

"Of course you do. Your smiles are brighter than the damn sun...and your hair, for that matter. But all that kindness and hope? Your emphasis on "love and peace"? That's attractive."

Your wink is what nearly sent the Humanoid Typhoon over the edge, as he squeaked in surprise at your words, before noticing Meryl, Roberto, and Wolfwood at their own table, having a chat about the worms in the sand and sky...only for their gazes to land on him.

Knowing smirks appeared on their faces when they realized what was going on.

You were flustering the hell out of Vash.

It only made his growing blush worsen, and he sheepishly threw his hood over his head to hide it, turning back to you. "Th-They're watching us, you know.." He mumbled.

"So what? Let them watch. They already know how smitten you are over me, anyway." You chuckled and reached a hand out. His advanced prosthetic fingers instinctively reached back, intertwining their coldness with your warmth. "I love your arm, too. It's amazing, perfect...just like you, honey."

"Ah...! Thank you...h-honey. Haha.." At this point, he knew he lost the war..you were just too damn good at this. Pushing away your compliments was useless now, so he resolved to just covering his face with his free hand.

His heart was hammering uncontrollably, and for once in his life..it wasn't due to the adrenaline of fleeing from gun-totting bandits or cyborgs.

It was because of love.

The very thing he hoped to stand for.

Ever since getting together with Vash, and learning how hard he often was on himself..you made it your mission to let him know how much you adored him.

He was afraid you'd be scared off by the bounty on his head, or the fact he had to constantly be on the move...or that a whole town could turn on him at the drop of a hat....or that twin brother of his would find you two.

But you've made it clear time and time again that you weren't leaving his side no matter what, and by god you were sticking to that promise even when he attempted to push you away a few times before.

You'd go anywhere in No Man's Land, unless it wasn't with him.

The moment he realized you're in this for the long run, you helped him let his guard down a little, defending his name and trying to show him common traditions of human couples--or at least..whichever ones you could recreate on this planet.

Even when you weren't around him, people would ask what "horrors" you've faced during your encounters with the "terrifying" Vash the Stampede, imagining you barely escaping with your life while he smiles and laughs at the mass destruction and death that surrounds him..

But what they don't know (and probably never will) is that his smiles and laughs were simply the products of your endless ways of complimenting him...such as right now.

You had this man--who had the power to bring down an empire if he wanted to--stammering over his words, acting incredibly shy, and being unusually giggly. And he's barely touched a drop of liquor since your small group stopped in the bar for refuge from the desert heat.

Some of the patrons wondered how drunk he was to be acting the way he did, while others looked upon you two with fondness, now convinced that love may not be dead just yet.

As long as Vash was here, that will continue to exist, and you'll be there to show him that he's worthy of it, too.

#uheehee i love him'#i finally get the appeal yall #clanask #anonymous #trigun x reader #trigun stampede x reader #vash the stampede #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #tristamp vash #fluff

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gucciforasushirestaurant · 7 months ago

Text

The Look

summary: its awards season. meaning glits, glam, and harry looking like a total snack at events.

word count: 8.8K (i got carried away 😬)

read time: 37 min

content warning ⚠️: D/s dynamics, MAJOR DADDY KINK, subspace, dom space, dd/lg (if you squint), (filthy) dirty talk, mild & sweet degradation, pet names (love, lovie, baby, baby girl, good girl, baby love), possessive!harry (if you squint), anal play (plugs), nipple clamps, light bondage (if you squint), spanking, paddling, (mention of flogging/ a flogger), fingering, ring kink (is this a thing? sure.), hand kink, light choking, manhandling (kind of), unprotected sex (and the mess that comes with it), (slight) hair pulling. If I messed something let me know!

a/n: I saw this picture of Rihanna looking at A$AP Rocky like she was about to suck the soul out of that man in front of all those people….and then I wrote this. and I'll do it again lol. Enjoy! 😉

You were bored, and beyond ready to go home. You hated award season, selfishly. You knew what it meant for Harry, and you were always so proud of him, and his accomplishments. But dammit did you hate all that came along with it. Dressing up and cameras, let alone the interviews. You’d only ever get a question or two thrown at you,but regardless, you were not built for it.

But Harry, he was a natural born star. He didn’t love the attention all of the time, but you knew him well enough to know that he did get a bit of a kick out of the attention. And he knew how to handle it far better than you ever could. It made you feel all the more guilty when all you wanted to do was stay home, cook a nice meal together and watch your shows. But you were nothing if not supportive, always taking one for the team, even if the team was just Harry. “It’s just a few hours,” you’d tell yourself. “Just a few hours and then I can have him all to myself the rest of the night.”And that’s what you told yourself, and that's how you ended up here, at some after party, in a dress, vacuum sealed to your body in heels that feel like stilts, and a little too tipsy from the free-flowing champagne.

Harry had just gotten off the small stage,giving a speech about…something. And while you were so proud of him, and how he commanded a room, you hadn’t heard a word he said. You were too busy gawking at your charming, devilishly handsome boyfriend.

Harry works his way through the crowd, eyes locked on you and dimples popped as he tries his best to make it to your side. He’s stopped a few times, gives some pleasantries before he’s by your side again, kissing your temple.

“You, alright?” he asks. You nod with a hum, looking up at him over your champagne flute.

“Why are you looking at me like that,” Harry smirks, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you in. Harry knows the look, it's a look you only ever give him when you're in one of your moods. And it usually precedes you sucking the soul out of him.

“Like what?” you ask, earnestly.

“Right,” He chuckles, eyes looking down at your lip tucked between your teeth.

“What? I’m not looking at you like anything!” You defend, leaning up to kiss his cheek. And then it dawns on him.

You don’t even realize just how you’d been looking at him. All pout, and doe eyes, begging to be fucked and taken care of like you deserve.

“Nothing, honey.” He places a hand on your cheek smirking before leaning and kissing your forehead. “Let’s head out, hm? You look tired.”

“I’m fine! We can stay.” you lie, grateful that he’s suggested you head out early.

“Baby,” he says with a smile, but his tone is the one that makes your legs feel like Jell-O, “We’re going home. I did my obligation. I’ll go get the car. You meet me out front, after you’ve said your goodbye to everyone alright?” He asks, but it’s more like a demand.

You nod with a smile, finishing your drink. He kisses the top of your head, and you watch him make his exit.

*****

“You sounded great up there, Har.” You smile reaching for his hand resting on the shift. He laces your fingers together, kissing by the back of your hand.

“Thanks, Baby Love.” he says with a gentle smile. He pulls up to a red light, looking over at you. “You looked gorgeous tonight baby.”

“You’ve said that already.” you giggle, feeling your cheeks warm up. You lean your head back against the headrest, nibbling at your bottom lip, “A few times actually.”

“And I meant it every time I said it. And I mean it now.” he smirks.

“You look good too.” you smirk.You reach your hand up to his hair at the name of his neck, playing with the curls there. “Your hair looks nice like this. It’s very 90’s Leo.” You giggle and he smirks.

“Yeah? ‘S that a good thing?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod, “and I like this.” You say reaching over tugging on the shirt he’s wearing. It’s a black semi sheer top, with some lace detail. It’s simple, but paired with the jewelry and the fact that you can see his tattoos peeking through…you were more than pleased with tonight's outfit.

“I thought you might.” He turns his head to kiss your palm that’s made it to his cheek, giving it two spongy kisses.

The light turns and his attention is back on the road, so you watch the side of his face instead. Watch his dimple poke as he smiles. “It was written all over your face.” He chuckles after a few moments.

“What was?” You ask brows furrowed

“Those filthy thoughts of yours.” You don’t say a word, just clear your throat, nibbling on your bottom lip and turning your head looking forward. Harry looks over, eyes boring into the side of your face with a smirk. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me what filthy thoughts were going on in that pretty head of yours. Hmm?”

“Noth-” you start.

“Don’t lie to me, you know what happens when you do.” You swallow thickly looking over at him. For the second time tonight he’s used that tone. That dominant tone that only ever comes out when you ///play/// together. And it’s got you feeling all out of sorts. You squeeze your thighs together trying to soothe the ache that's sprung up between your thighs. “Tell me.” He presses once more.

“Just….thinking about playing with your hair….while you’re between my legs.” you whisper nervously.

You’d been with Harry for a while now. And you've never been shy about discussing intimacy. But when he put on that voice, and with his hand heavy on your thigh, it always seemed to make you bashful.

“And?” he prompts. Harry knows there's more, there's always more with you. “My little minx” Harry always joked.

Really he just wanted to work you up. Get you as frustrated, and hot and bothered as he could, because he had plans for tonight. Harry was finally going to reward you for being such a good girl, for him. Not just tonight and stomaching yet another event, but for all of awards season. You’ve always hated the cameras and parties. You’ve hated sharing him with the world. Selfish yes, but he felt the same about you. He couldn’t fathom how you felt every year around this time when he had to be ‘Harry Styles’ and not just your Harry, being ‘on’ all the time and away from you. But, you’ve been so good, and he knows he hasn’t been as attentive as he should be these last few months, so he was finally going to give you all the attention he’s deprived from you lately. All the attention you’ve been too shy, or scared to ask for.

“Your rings.” you finally blurt out.

“What about them?”

“I was thinking….” you pause trying to figure out the least crude way to phrase it,“About feeling them on my ass. I like when you spank me with them, and I like feeling them when…when you finger me too. It's nice.”

“You want me to spank you baby?”Harry asks cautiously. You nod your head slowly. “Why?” he asks, brows furrowed, with only a bit of concern “Did you do something to earn you a spanking?”

You and Harry were no strangers to spanking, or playing rough. But they were usually only reserved for your punishments, or ‘punishments’ as you so dubbed them, as you quite liked the feeling of Harry’s hands on you.

“Maybe.” you purred.

Now he’s intrigued. This was about teasing you before you got home. But now? This was about playing the game. His favorite game, yours too. He snaps his head toward you as you approach another red light.

“Maybe?” he quips, “You either broke a rule, or you didn't, baby? Which is it?”

You take a moment, trying to figure out which way to play it, which way would get you what you wanted most. You could continue to play coy, could lie, or you could be honest.

You chose the latter.

“I did.” you coo, biting your bottom lip.

“Hmm,” He hums, leaning over the center console to get a better look at you. Your eyes were a bit glassy already, a look you only ever got when the two of you played. When you were feeling submissive. “And what rule would that be?”

You look down at his hand that found its way from your thigh to become tangled with yours, twirling the ‘H’ and ‘S’ rings on his fingers. “No panties.” You mumbled.

He heard you, but he really enjoyed making you repeat things, especially if he knew that you were a little embarrassed. “Louder baby. And look at me.” he demands softly.

“I’m not wearing any panties.”

“No?” He mocks. You shake your head as the light turns green. Harry smirks at you, before, slowly pressing the accelerator, eyes back to the road.

“Why would you do that, baby? Go to such an important event, a room full of people with no panties on?” he asks. He knows why, or at least he suspects. But he wants to hear you say it. Likes to tease you, yes, maybe humiliate you a little for being his perfect little slut.

“I was thinking about the last time. Last week and how we…snuck away.”

He smirks looking over at you, with lust filled eyes he lifts your hand to his lips and kisses the back of your hand again. He remembers it fondly, as one of the best quickies you’ve had. Definitely the riskiest you’ve ever been, and he’s not stopped thinking about it since. And apparently neither have you.

“You didn’t wear any panties so it would be easier for me to fuck you in the bathroom again? Is that it?” he probed.

“Yes,” you squeak.

Harry stops at another red light. Cursing the fact that it seems they’ve not made a single one on your ride back. He looks over at you, dimples out, eyes dark with lust. “You like being a slut in public baby?” You nod. Chewing on your bottom lip. He reaches up, and pulls it from your teeth, running his thumb over it. “Why didn’t you ask, hmm? You know how to ask for what you want?” You shrug and squeeze your thighs tighter together. Harry takes notice and presses further, “Instead you were looking at me like a cock drunk whore.” he tuts, “In front of all those people. If I saw it, you know everyone else did too. Don’t you,sweetheart?”

“I didn’t - I don’t know.” You pouts

“It’s okay baby.” he chuckles, “I’ll take care of you when we get home okay. We’re almost there.

“Yes Sir.” you say, with a dopey grin. The honorific just slipped out, before you realized. You may have been slightly embarrassed if it weren't for the promise of what’s to come later tonight.

“Good girl.” He praises, leaning over the consol. He kisses you once, twice, and then a third time before you hear honking behind you.

Harry pulls away from your kiss, seeing the lights turned. There’s another impatient honk before Harry pulls off muttering an “asshole” under his breath, looking in the rear view mirror. You look out your window. Trying to keep yourself from moving around too much as Harry’s hand rested on your thigh, lightly massaging it.

The ride is quiet for a while, as you try to focus on not squirming, and imagining what’s in store for the night before Harry speaks again, voice all rough and authority,“You are getting punished first. You know that, don’t you baby?”

You look at him and nod your head, “Mhmm.” you hum.

Once you’ve finally pulled into the drive at home, Harry has pretty much fully entered his own Dom space and you're slipping deeper and deeper by the second into subspace. When you enter the house, he stops you at the bottom of the stairs reaching for your hand to turn you around. He cradles your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks, “I’m gonna grab some things for the night, and lock up the rest of the house. I want you on the bed in position, in nothing but this,” he says playing with the gold pendant ‘H’ around your neck “and then we’ll start. Okay?.”

You smile up at him, a warm rush going through your body, and nod. “Words, please. And repeat the instructions, for me.” he encourages.

“Go upstairs, sit in a position with only my necklace.”

“Good girl.” He smirks, grabbing your chin and kissing you deeply. He pulls away, you chasing after his lips, “No,” he tuts playfully, “Upstairs. Go.” he nods behind you towards the stairs behind you. You turn, Harry giving a light tap to your ass as you scurry up the staircase.

You’re quick to rid yourself of the uncomfortable costume of ‘celebrity girlfriend’, stripping down to nothing other than the gold necklace as promised. You sit center of the bed on your calves, hands resting on your thighs as you wait for Harry to join you.

He does as per his routine, locking up the house, and grabbing a your nightly water bottle for when you wake in the middle of the night. He does the extra task of grabbing you a snack and a few extra water bottles for the night.

When he passes the threshold of your bedroom his heart skips a beat at the sight of you, naked in the center of your bed, kneeling so pretty for him. But he doesn’t let it show. In fact he ignores you, as he enters the room, not giving you anything more than a glance. Your eyes remained trained on him as he moved through the room.

First to his side of the bed, placing the items he’d brought up with him, before heading over to your dresser, taking off his watch, and setting it in the little dish there. But you note that his rings you love so much remain on. He saunters into your walk-in closet and stays there for far too long in your opinion. Taking his time to get into his unofficial uniform for nights like this. He emerges in nothing but the same pair of relaxed fit dark denim wash jeans, that hug in all the right places, and his rings. Your favorite small velvet red box in one hand. And a leather paddle in the other.

Finally, after waiting what feels like forever, Harry strides over to you, standing at the end of the bed, placing the box on the corner of it. It had only a few things in it by the sound of it, but you still were tingling with anticipation. Without saying a word he jesters for you to come closer to him, with his finger. You knee walk your way over, sitting back on your calves with your hands resting on your thighs. You look at him with a pout, and he smiles.

“Hi baby.”

“Daddy -” you whine, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. You were already getting a punishment, you didn’t want to make it worse.

“Oh, Baby Love,” Harry coos, and you whimper just happy to finally have his attention on you. He cradles your face in his hands, and you lean into his touch. “I’m right here.” He strokes your cheeks with his thumb, and places kisses on your forehead, each cheek, tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You whine into the kiss, and attempt to deepen the kiss, but he pulls away with a tisk. “Nuh uh,no. Punishment, remember.” He smirks, hand traveling down to your neck, stroking the side of it with his thumb.

“Yes Daddy,” you pout.

He reaches over, taking the lid off the velvety box and you peek inside.Inside isn’t your entire collection,not by a long shot. The box is nothing more than the ‘goodie bag’ he makes, everytime you play. Picking up a few things from the big red chest from the back of your closet that held everything ropes, to plugs, to clamps, and lube.

Tonight seemed to be quite the selection, and your pussy was clenching at the sight of the items. You watch him lay a few things beside you. Some nipple clamps with a chain connecting the two. He loved to pull on those while he railed you, and a pink glass plug with a rose on the end, and lastly some lube.

He puts a finger under your chin forcing him to look up at him.

“You know why you're getting a punishment tonight?” he asks.

“Yes”

“Tell Daddy, then.”

“Because I didn’t wear any panties.” .

“And?” he probed, eyebrows quirked up.

“And I ….” your mouth opens and closes a few times, trying to get the words out, but nerves taking over.

“Go on,” he chuckles, amused. He loved watching you get all worked up. But seeing just how worked up you are without him hardly touching you had him realize just how badly you needed him.

“I didn’t ask for you to take care of me when I was needy….I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head kissing your cheek, “It’s okay baby. I’m not mad, but I still gotta punish you, okay?” You nod your head, lip tucked between your teeth, “And you know your words if it becomes too much?”

“Red or watermelon to stop, and yellow if I need you to slow down, or if I need to talk to you about something.” you say quietly, and he smiles proudly. .

“Good girl.” he praises, one hand on your neck, the other caressing your cheek, “And your color right now?”

“Green.” You rush out leaning into his touch.

“Very good baby.” He reaches down and picks up the nipple clamps, “We’re gonna start with these, okay?”

“Wait! You gasp, eyes wide.

“You, okay?”

“Yeah. I just - can I touch you. Please?” you asked, and Harry smirks.

“What do you mean baby?”

“Can I kiss you, please?” you whisper. He nods, a little taking hold of your hands, bringing your arms around his neck, as he rests his hands on your waist and kisses you. He allows the make out session for a while, your hands tangled in his hair, while he gropes your ass, and massages your tits, pulling at your nipples, preparing them for the clamps. You moan into the kiss, pushing your hips into his. He allows it once but the second time he pulls away from the kiss making you moan.

“That’s enough baby. Be good, you’re already getting punished, hm?”

“Okay.” you pout.

Harry picks up one of the clamps, leaning down sucking your right nipple into his mouth before he places the clamp. You hiss at the sensation and the combination of the look in your eye, and the sounds you make, make his cock twitch in his jeans. “Good?” he questions.

“Yes.” you sigh with a nod. He leans over to your left breasts, bringing it to his mouth and doing the same as he did with the left. Once the clamps were in place, he lightly pulled on the chain dangling in the center, enjoying the little noises that you make as Harry kisses back up your chest to your neck.

“Feelin’ okay, Lovie?”

“Mhmm” you hum. Harry could tell it was getting more difficult for you to find words, you were slipping further and further into subspace and he couldn’t be happier.

“Good.” he states with a smirk, “Good, baby.”

He sits down next to you on the edge of the bed and pats his thigh, “Across my lap,” He purrs, and you do as your told, laying across his lap, your nipples hard and clamped brushing against the softness of the duvet. The sensation made you whimper, and squirm in Harry’s lap.

Harry takes a handful of your ass, squeezing it in warning. “No squirming. You know the rules. Unless you want more spanks, be still.”

“Sorry, Daddy..” You mumble looking up at him over your shoulder.

“Good girl” with your eyes on him still he reaches to the other side of him getting a tube from the box and picking up the pink plug. “We’re doing your plug tonight, okay?” You nod, biting your lip.

The plug is a relatively new addition to your play time, but it was quickly becoming a favorite of yours, and Harry’s too. He knew how much you enjoyed it, and while so far none of this seemed to be much of a punishment, he had plans for you.

“Color?”

“Green.” you stuttered.

“Good. Head down, relax for me okay?” he commanded.

You rest your head on your folded hands in front of you, your head to the side as you take in a shaking breath feeling his hands massage your ass, before slipping a hand between your thighs.

“Messy already baby?”

“Sorry,” you whimper, a little embarrassed at just how wet you were already, from nothing more than nipple clamps, and making out.

“That’s okay,” he coos, “you can’t help it. Can you, baby?” He leans down, placing a kiss on your right cheek.

“No.” You shake your head, “It’s the clamps, and…you looked really good tonight.” you admit shyly.

“So did you, Baby Love.” he smiles, “too bad you were being naughty. I was going to reward you for being so patient the last few months,” he taunts as he rubs up and down your pussy with one hand, massaging your ass with the other. “But now I have to punish you.” He brings some of your wetness to your tighter hole with his thumb massaging the ring of muscle making you moan out. You grip the sheets to keep you from squirming.

He leans down, spitting right at the puckered hole making you cry out. He smears the saliva around slowly prodding at your hole with his thumb while his fingers danced over your leaking pussy.

He hears you moan but ignores it, continuing his work. “You know why I love punishing you baby?”

“Why?”

“Because…it means I get to play with this cute little ass of yours.” He punctuates the sentence with a light spank to your left cheek with his free hand, as he slipped his thumb into your tightest hole.

“Daddy….”

“Shhh baby. I’m right here.” he coos, his hand up your back, comfortingly gripping the back of your neck as he plays with your clit and hole. Pumping his thumb slowly. After feeling you clench around the digit a few times, and your pussy pulse, he removes his thumb, while continuing to rub up and down your folds. He reaches for the lube, opening it.

“This is gonna be a little cold, okay, baby?”

“Okay,” you murmur

He squeezed a rather large dollop onto your hole rubbing it around, before rubbing the pink glass plug up and down your hole.

“Relax for me, and breathe, okay.”

No matter how much you’ve thought you’ve trained your asshole, it was always a stretch. But when Harry did it, he always made sure you were comfortable and there wasn’t any discomfort.

As he slowly works the plug in. Just a bit. Then out again. Then in a little bit more than out. It was maddening. The teasing. You can’t help but squirm. Feeling his erection against you didn’t help either.

“Daddy.” You moan, and Harry spanked you once, but hard.

“Baby,” he warns. “I’m trying to be patient but you’re only going to make this punishment worse. Be good, okay? Take what I give you.”

You know you shouldn’t be enjoying this half as much as you are. This is a punishment, afterall. But he’s finally giving you the attention you’ve been craving for weeks, and you can’t help but to make your request anyway. “More, please.” you squeaked

“More?” He teases. All you wanted was to feel the stretch of the plug, but he was taking things so painfully slowly.“You want to be filled up, Baby Love?”

“Yes.” you moan, “please.”and you jump as another spank lands onto your ass. The mix of pain and pleasure was almost maddening as it was becoming more difficult to focus on coming up with words, as your whole body was a light with pleasure.

“Be patient.” Harry tuts, “We gotta work it in baby, you want Daddy’s cock in there one day don’t you?”

The thought alone makes you squirm, and whine in Harry’s lap.“Yes” you moan.

“Then we have to go slow. You can barely fit this little guy, how do you expect to take Daddy’s big cock without any practice?” He reaches up, tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of your head, forcing you to look at him. “Answer me baby”

“I don’t know.” you whimper, nibbling at your bottom lip.

You were deep into subspace now, and he knew answering was getting more and more difficult for you. All the more reason to tease you. Harry smiles devilishly, caressing your face, “I know baby. That’s okay. But I need you to take what I give you, and stop complaining. Or your spanking is going to be worse. Do you want the flogger?”

You actually wouldn’t mind the flogger. You loved the thud of the heavy leather strips striking your back, but you shake your head, deciding it’s in your best interest to do as Harry says.

“Alright then, if you want to be full you have to be patient.”

You lay your head back down on your folded hands, and let out a deep breath, closing your eyes in an attempt to focus on the feeling of the plug teasing your ass. It was only a few more in’s and out’s before your ass accepted the plug, sucking it in allowing you to let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of being so deliciously full.

“There you go sweetheart,” Harry smiles tapping the rose at the end of the plug, the vibrations it sent through you making you let out a deep groan. “What do we say?” he prompts, spanking each of your cheeks.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you whine.

He massages your ass for a moment before a hand travels back down to your folds. “Even messier now, baby.” He leans down kissing your ass, teeth sinking into the flesh. “Such a good fucking girl. And so pretty, all plugged up.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome baby.” Harry chuckled darkly. He picks up rubbing the smooth leather across each cheek very lightly tapping it on each one. Just to prepare you for the sensation.

“You remember the rules about the paddle?” Harry asks, running it over your ass lightly. You nod your head, looking over your shoulder at him, “Tell me.”

“Count each one, and say thank you after.” you

“Good girl.” He smiles proudly. “How many do you think you deserve?”

“Ummm -” you nibble on your lip, trying your hardest to think straight. “Ten?”

“That’s adorable, baby…You’re getting twenty.”

You groan, burrowing your face into the sheets. Squirming in his lap, earning another harsh spank.

“Twenty-five.” Harry amends sternly.

“Wha - why?!” you mumble

“Ten for not wearing panties. Ten for not telling me how needy your greedy little pussy was tonight. And five because you won’t stop squirming after I’ve already warned you twice, Lovie.”

You let out a little moan but nod your head. It seemed fair, but it was gonna push your limits, as it’s five more than you’ve ever done. But you could do it, and you’ll probably enjoy it more than you should.

“Got it?”

“Yes, Daddy.” you confirm.

“Good girl. What’s your color?”

“I’m Green.”

“Alright. I’m going to start, now okay?” Harry warns, and you give him a nod.

The first one lands on your right cheek hard. Harder than you anticipated, and it makes you cross your legs.

“One! Thank you.” you wince.

“No,no.” He says prying your legs open open again, landing a light spank onto your drenched folds. “Keep them open.” Harry warns, massaging the warmth of your cheek before giving you the next strike.

“Two. Thank you.”

The strikes continue just like that. The paddle makes contact, alternating between cheeks, you count and give thanks. While he massages between each one. Some come in quick succession. Some are spaced out, making you moan in anticipation. There’s no real pattern and it keeps you on edge in the best way.

“Twenty. Thank you sir” you whimper, looking over your shoulder. Hoping maybe he’d forget about the last five if he saw you. There’s a few tears now, not so much from the pain of the paddle, just…everything. With each strike of the paddle, the plug jiggles giving you a pleasure so deep you can’t describe. You're desperate and so floaty, deep in subspace and more than anything you just really want to cum!. You just want it to get to the reward part of the night. But you are a good girl, so you stayed still, took your punishment, opting for a tight grip on the sheets rather than squirming around in Harry’s lap.

“Good girl. Baby. You're doing such a good job taking your punishment. So good for me, baby.” He praises, soothing the warm skin with his large palm. “What’s your color?” He checks in, when he sees your eyes glass and teary.

“I’m still green,” you whisper

“Okay. Turn around, we’re almost done.”

He doles out the rest of your spanks quickly, not giving you much time to count. But you try your best anyway.

“Twenty five. Thank you sir.” you sigh, letting out a deep breath

“Good girl!” He praises. He tosses the paddle to the side, pulling you up to have you sitting in his lap, knees on either side of his hips. He places a hand protectively at the back of your neck making you look up at him. He’s smiling like an idiot, so proud of you and you can’t help but crack a smile just as proud of yourself for taking your punishment so well.

He nods between you towards his right thigh “Look at that baby.” you look down seeing a dark spot on his jeans. Your brows knit together, before your eyes meet Harry’s again, “That’s you, baby.”

“Oh.” you mumble a little embarrassed. “Sorry.” You whisper trying to bury yourself into his neck but he stops squeezing your cheeks together with one hand, forcing your eyes on his.

“Nothing to be sorry about. You just need Daddy to make the aching go away, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you pout trying to grind your hips down into him, but Harry stops you, with a firm hand on your hip.

“Yeah, I know.” he takes the hand squishing your cheeks, snaking it down between the two of you pinching your already clamped nipple once before his fingers finally - finally make contact with your folds. You moan out. Resting your head on Harry’s shoulder, burying your face in his neck, as his hand travels up and down your folds, spreading your wetness.His free arm, secured around your waist, holding you upright.

Harry turns his head, lips pressed against your ear,“There you go baby. That feels so good hm? You like my fingers on your clit.” his fingers slow to a stop, not satisfied with your lack of response, subspace or not, “Talk to Daddy, Love.”

“Yes! So much. It’s so good -”

“Eyes on me,” he demanded, pulling your face out of his neck, trying your best to keep your eyes open, as he worked his magic on your clit. As soon as your eyes meet his, he sinks his middle finger inside. The coolness of his rings against your folds makes you shiver. He works it in for a moment before selfishly adding his ring finger into the mix. You both groan as your pussy greedily accepts a second finger. “Fuck baby, you’re suckin’ me in.” He leans forward sucking on your neck. Nibbling on your ear as he pumps faster. Curling them just right, “that feel good?”

“Mhmm. Oh, fuck,” you wine gripping ong his shoulder a hand in his hair tugging the way you know he likes. The way you’ve been craving all night.

You’re already so full. The plug was still firmly placed in ass, sitting heavy as you sat straddling him, his thumb working on your clit…it was almost too much! You were right on the edge of ecstasy when Harry inserted yet a third finger, methodically working on your G-spot.

“Shit! Daddy, I’m -” you cry out, looking down at his fingers going in and out of you, and the sight alone is enough to send you over the edge. Everything was catching up to you now, Harry’s fingers stuffing your pussy, the plug snug in your ass, the clamps tight on your nipples. You just needed one more thing.

“I want you to cum on my fingers baby,okay? Be good and show me how good it feels, and fucking come on my fingers.” The groan you let out is almost too raw, one of pure ecstasy. Then he says the thing that just about sends you over the edge. “Come on, my rings baby.”

“Daddy….” you whine,you were so close. So so close but you didn’t want it like this. You want to feel Harry. All of him. “No.” You whimper, causing him to pull away slightly, to get a good look at you.

“No? You don’t want to come baby? Since when does my greedy girl not want to cum?” He doesn’t slow his fingers, while his eyes bore into you. Not at all. They speed up, and curl them even more, stroking and prodigy at your G-spot, coaxing you closer and closer.

“Want….cock. Wanna cum on your cock.” You pout trying so hard not to come. And surprisingly you were doing a good job at it. You were historically terrible at holding your orgasms, but tonight seemed to be all about pushing your limits.

Harry smirks, leaning forward sucking your bottom lip in his mouth nibbling on it hard. He’s so hungry for you. Desperate almost. He has to see you come. He craves it.

“You will. Don’t worry.” He gives you another quick peck, “I’ll let you come on my cock. But you gotta give me what I want first. Okay? Gotta be good and come on my fingers first, then I’ll give you what you want.” You whine some more, leaning forward wrapping your arms around Harry tighter, still holding back. He can feel how tense you are, you’ve always been a stubborn girl, even when it’s not in your own best interests, it makes him smirk, a bit before he doubles his efforts on your clit.

“I promise. Baby Girl. Just let go. Show me your a good girl, come on.” He pulls you out of his neck again, hand on your cheek forcing you to look at him. “Let go. I got you. I got you-“ and just like that you're coming in a bright white light, ringing in your ears, and gushing all over Harry’s fingers, with those emerald eyes looking deep into your soul. He feels it too, feels your pussy convulses and gushes around his fingers. Your body tightens up before going completely lax in his lap. “Good fucking girl. There she is. Oh baby there you go so good for me.” You let out a groan unlike anything you’ve ever done before. Gripping at his hair and grinding down on his fingers and your pussy convulses and gushes, around his fingers.He slows them down before slowly withdrawing, tapping your clit softly a few times, for good measure. He brings his hands up to his lips, making a show of licking his fingers clean, before his hand goes back down between your legs, cupping your pussy, reveling in the feeling of it still pulsating with aftershocks as you try to catch your breath.

“Than-thank you Daddy” you hiccup. Kissing his neck.

“Your welcome, baby. You okay?” he asks, and you nod against his shoulder. “Look at me, please baby.” you do as you're told, though finding it difficult to keep your eyes open. “Good baby.” He leans forward kissing you, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips, and it drives you mad. “Hold onto me.” He demands sweetly. You adjust yourself, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. Harry stands up and turns. Setting you back on your feet allows the back of your knees to hit the mattress.

“Lay back on the pillows, for me?” he asks sweetly, with a kiss on your forehead. You nod eagerly, crawling up on the bed, laying out knees bent and feet flat.

Harry’s cock twitches in his jeans at the sight of you. He knee walks his way up the bed. Laying on his stomach, his face level with your pussy, kissing down your thighs, making your breath hitch. You roll your hips up at his hot breath fanning over your wet sensitive lips and Harry smiles.

“Need something?” he chuckles. You open your mouth,closing it quickly, debating on if you want to reveal just how greedy you’re feeling. “Baby…” he prompts, and you give in.

“Mouth. Please?” you whisper, giving your best doe eyes.

“I thought you wanted my cock? Begged for it.”

“That too!” you rush out with a pout.

“I’m only teasing,Lovie,” Harry chuckles, “My greedy girl. Got my fingers now you want both my mouth and cock.” You cover your face, and attempt to close your legs, but fail. Harry kisses up your body, removing your hands from your face, placing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. “Don’t worry baby. I’m gonna give them to you. Punishment is all over. Now I just wanna play with my girl. Give you everything you want. Do you know why?”

“Because I deserve it.” you recite with a smile, like you’ve done so many times before.

“That’s right. You deserve,” Harry kisses your right right cheek, “all the praise,” he kisses your left cheek, “and all the orgasms,” he kisses the tip of your nose, “because your my Good Girl.” he smile before finally locking his lips to yours in a deep kiss, letting out a groan when you get brave and dip your tongue into his mouth.

It’s always been the simple things with Harry that gets to you the most. The way he dresses, how gentle he was with you. The way his lips felt on yours, the way they worked down your neck, not to mention the little noises he makes when you make out with him, and grind up into his hips. It all drove you wild. Just as much as it drove him mad. He craved you like you did him. It was almost like you fed off of one another, the neediness, the pure carnal want for one another. You were perfect together.

Slowly Harry pulls away, kissing down your body, nibbling playfully as he goes until he is situated back between your thighs. Harry reaches for one of your hands at your side, placing your hand in his hair, lacing the other with his. He kisses each thigh, before kissing the top of your mound. He taps on the plug reminding you it’s still there.

“Are you still okay with this in? It’s not uncomfortable?” he asks,and you shake your head.

“No.” you mumble, shaking your hand, “I like it. Feel full.”

“I know.” He leans in lightly kissing your clit. “You have the prettiest pussy baby. You know that? ‘S gorgeous. Could live right here. Between your beautiful thick thighs.”

You let out a whine rolling your hips up impatiently, and Harry jerks his head away, giving you a knowing look, “Sorry. I’ll be still I’m sorry.”

“Good girl.” Harry smiles, kissing your clit lightly once more before finally - finally delving in. Like a starved man, Harry is lapping at your folds up and down the length of your pussy before he sucks your clit into his mouth. Creating a light suction, almost pulsating it, and flicking over it gently with his tongue.

You were in complete bliss, with the way he was eating you out, you’d come in no time, much to Harry’s delight.

“Oh god -” you sigh out, gripping his hair tighter, pulling his face closer to you by the back of his head. “More - please.” If you weren’t feeling as amazing as you were you’d be embarrassed by how desperate you sound.

“That’s my girl!” He moans against you. “Take what you need,Love.” His free hand moves to the plug, slowly pulling it out a tad before pushing it back it fucking you with the toy. All while his mouth kept a vacuum seal around your pussy.

“Daddy…”

“Come on my tongue baby.” He encourages. “Come on baby. Show me how good it feels sweetheart.” He groans right into your pussy as you pull at his scalp, he shakes his head back and forth, the friction and vibration, driving you wild.

It’s filthy and messy and it feels unreal. Before you have a chance to savor the feeling, you're coming in a rush, the coil in your lower belly snapping as you come on Harry’s tongue as requested, body tingling from the sensation.

Harry brings his licks to a slow stop, giving your pussy one final peck, making you shiver. He kisses his way up your body, and you're quick to bring him right back up to your face tasting yourself on his lips.

“Good girl, lovie.” He growls against your lips, “Fuck.” He pins the hand that he’s kept intertwined with his above your head, taking a hold of your other one and doing the same. He works his way down your neck nibbling and sucking on your favorite spot.

When he finally finishes his assault on your neck, he looks down at you to see. Your eyes have gone glassy again, this time, with tears brimming your eyes. He always seems to manage to bring you to tears. It only happens when you’ve been particularly needed, and he makes you feel especially good, but he’s always proud of himself when he can make it happen.

“Oh baby,” He sighs, leaning his weight on your hips grinding into yours. “That felt so good didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

“I know, baby. Your body’s just so sensitive, huh?” He punctuates it with a pull of the nipple clamp chain you’d nearly forgotten about..

“Yeah Daddy, so sensitive. It’s -I-”

“Shhh I know baby it’s a lot. I’m here tho okay. You're safe. Your okay.” He leans down, kissing you again, not as deep, trying to bring you back up a bit before he continues. He ends the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, rubbing his nose against yours. “What’s your color baby?” he asks.

“Green.” you smile at him, rolling your hips up into his.

“You still want to come on my cock?”

“Yes please Daddy please please please,” you beg, only a little embarrassed.

“Okay. I’ll give it to you. You’ve been so patient.” So have I. Harry thinks.

He lets your wrist go and they instantly tangle in his curls once more, forcing his lips down onto yours. You snake a hand down and attempt to fumble with the buckle of his jeans. “Off. Feel” you mumble between kisses.

“You wanna feel me against you?” he asks, and you nod your head fervently. You loved the feeling of being skin to skin with Harry, you’d never feel closer to him than when you were skin to skin. He manuvores his jeans down and you're happily met with the feeling of him pressed against your folds. Making you both groan out.

“That Better?” he smirks and you smile

“Much.” you smile. Harry reaches for the plug, and begins to tug at it. But you stop him with a whine in protest, “No. Wanna be full.”

“You wanna be fucked with the plug?” He double checks. But by the pout on your lips, he knows you mean it. “Filthy girl.” he smirks, “Alright. I’ll leave it okay?” He’s never fucked you with the plug in, the thought’s been floating around your head for a while, and with how needy you were, you figured tonight would be the perfect night to try.

Harry leans down kissing you with his hard leaking cock in one hand the other cradling your cheek in the other, as he runs the head up and down your folds a few times. He revels in the feeling for as long as you let him, before breaching just the tip inside of your pussy. It’s a tighter fit than usual with the plug still inside, and it takes both of you back. You gasp, a good gasp but he feels you tighten even more.

“Shhh baby relax,” he kisses you all over your face. “You gotta breathe for me, okay?” You nod and let out a breath as he slowly enters you, until he’s fully inside. “Oh good girl. Shit baby. You’re so full, huh?” He groans, kissing your cheek.

“Yeah you squeak oh, so. I’ve never -”

“I know, baby. Oh fuck. I’m just gonna stay like this till you tell me to move okay.” He says as he moves into your neck, kissing and nibbling at the skin there.

After a few moments of Harry sucking onto your neck, you begin to roll your hips up into his, grinding down on his cock, drawing out deep groans from the both of you. He takes it as a sign that you're ready, that you can take him and so he begins to rock his hips with deep shallow thrusts. It allows you to and you relish at the fullness of both Harry’s cock and the pink rose plug. The pleasure is almost too much, it’s got your whole body tingling, and warm.

“Good girl baby. Taking it so well. Fuck.” he growls, leaning his forhead on yours. He slowly draws his hip back further and further before diving back in.

“Harder.” you whine, and Harry grants your request, fucking you harder into the materss, holding onto your hips tight as he pounded into you.

“You feel so good baby, you know that? Do you know how good you make Daddy feel, baby?” he urges. “Your pussy’s like heaven to me baby.” He groans looking, with nothing but love and adoration.

“Gonna come Daddy!”

He picks up his pace, fucking you hard, and fast. The only thing in the room being heard is the sound of skin against wet skin, and your carnal moans. Your fingers in his hair, pulling at the strands as you get closer and closer to the edge once more, before your coming undone again, convulsing under him.

“Atta Girl! Good job baby,"Harry smiles, kissing you passionately, “give me one more.”

“Can’t,” you moan. You’re so sensitive, you feel amazing, but you have no idea how much more you can take. But as Harry grinds down into you, a hand snaking down to your clit, you can feel yourself, getting closer and closer. You don’t think you can stop it. “Can’t Daddy. I- oh god.” Your whole body was a light, as you felt your peak approaching again quickly, gripping onto Harry’s shoulders, holding him to you as you buried yourself in his neck.

“Yes you can,” Harry groans, “Can feel you squeezing me, your pussy’s begging for it. Come for me baby. Come on my cock, like you wanted to,” he caresses your face in one hand, getting your attention, your eyes open to look right at him, “Show me.”

You open your mouth trying to speak, but the words escape you, too wrapped up in the pleasure, But Harry, ever the attentive boyfriend, knows what you were trying to say. to speak but can’t get the words out but he knows what you were trying to say. “You can do it, Baby Girl. Come for me. Give me one more, and let Daddy fill up your pretty pussy. Give it to me baby, so I can give you your come.”

///Your/// come. Yours. That’s what does it for you. It’s what always does it for both of you. The ownership. Because he was just as much yours and you were his. Including orgasms. And just like that you come in a bright white light, ringing in your ears, and tears in your eyes. Loud, and hard, whining in Harry’s ear, writhing underneath him, holding onto him with all your might.

“Good fucking girl. Oh fuck. There you go.” He growls into your ear, before crashing his lips down to yours. “Fuck, baby. You’re going to make me come.”

“Please” you whine holding his face, looking at him deep in those emerald eyes. “ Give it to me, please.” And he’s a goner. Eyes rolled back, body tensing, and thrust going sloppy as he spurts white ropes, painting your walls. And you relish the feeling.

Harry collapses on top of you, burying his face into your neck, kissing and nibbling, giving you praise as you both tried to catch your breath. When he feels that your heart has stopped beating as fast, and he feels himself softening inside of you is when he decides it’s time to pull out. But you resist, tightening your legs around his hips, the hand that’s made its way into his hair tightening.

“Not yet please.” you request with a pout.

“Okay. Okay I’ll stay.” He whispers kissing across your collarbone. “Just a bit longer.”

After enough time has passed, Harry looks up at you, “You with me?” he asks. You hum, eyes closed dopey grin on your lips and he can tell that you’re still in that floaty place, maybe not as deep but you definitely weren’t fully present.

“Daddy…” you whine just above a whisper.

“S’ just Harry baby. Just me.” You pout. You didn’t want to be done, but a look at the clock on your nightstand tells you you've been at it for a while so you try and tell yourself to come back to earth. “You’re okay. I’m here. Hey look at me.” he urges, bringing a hand to your face, “Your safe okay. I’m gonna pull out now and take out the plug and then we’ll get all cleaned up okay?”

“Okay.” you smile. You whine when he pulls out but he soothes you with a kiss to your forehead and a promise of returning soon.

He’s back in a flash with a warm damp cloth and some tissues. “You still feelin’ a little floaty huh, baby?” He smirks as he cleans you up.

“Yeah.”

“That’s okay. Just let me take care of you okay?” you nod and he goes to work on cleaning the mess between your legs. “You did so well tonight baby. Took everything so well. You're my best girl, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s right. He reaches for the plug.

“You gotta relax for me. Gotta get this guy out of ya. Take a break out for me.” he instructs, taking it out slowly before placing it on the nightstand on the tissue. He kisses your inner thigh before kissing his way up your body. “Wrap around me.” he instructs, and you do as you're told, wrapping your arms around him, as he lifts you up and walks you to the bathroom, sitting you on the toilet. “Go on. You know the drill.” he chuckles when you look at him shyly. He turns to the bath, giving you privacy to pee, as he runs the bath. Adding all your smell, good scents and bubbles.

By the type you're all bathed, dried and back in bed, you seem much more like yourself.

“You feeling good?” He asks.

“So good.” you chuckle, “Thank you Harry. I really needed that.”

Harry laughs and kisses your temple, “I could tell. But you never have to thank me for giving you pleasure. It’s an honor to give it to you.”

You feel your face heat up, as you shake your head and burrow yourself into the softness of his chest.”

“Still. I- you always make me feel good and idk I want you to know I love you and I appreciate you making me feel good. Even when I’m getting punished.”

“Love you too, Baby Love.”

✨masterlist✨∣ ✨yap & request box✨

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bitter-me · 9 months ago

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Well Deserved Rest

Dr. Veritas Ratio | M. Reader as Medicine Pocket [Reverse: 1999]

----------

Tsundere Ratio will forever live rent free in my head. That was totally canon!

----------

"Hey hey! Veritas!"

That annoying voice again.. how many times has he heard it today? It's so annoying.. so high pitched and loud, like a dog, happily barking at their favorite person.

"For the last time, it's Dr. Ratio! Don't call me by name so casually!" He groans at the other's enthusiasm and seemingly endless energy. For the past few years he had known the researcher. [Name] never fails to get on his nerves. Be it the constant teasing or the dog-like demeanor. The only thing he ever decided to tolerate the man is because of his reputation for being a genius amongst geniuses and gaining his current position when he was a mere teenager.

"Look look! I made this serum that presumably—" "I swear if this is one of your unauthorized experiments!"

Not only is he a genius amongst geniuses.. [Name] seems to have a reputation of doing whatever the hell he wants. Paperwork? That can wait! Research? Why should he care about following the status quo? Only when something had caught his attention, that's when the researcher began to actually do his work.

Sometimes Ratio feels like he's babysitting a child—or rather a dog. Given the other's background.

How many times has [Name] decided to chew on the ends of his robe? How many times has [Name] licked his cheek without a second thought?

Honestly...

"Aw come on, Veritas! Can't you live a little?" [Name] asked teasingly, tilting his head to the side, acting all adorable in order to persuade the doctor. Which didn't work. Or so he told himself. "It's not living if you constantly experiment on dangerous unauthorized things! It's called being foolish!"

This earns a chuckle from the other. He sure knows how to get on Ratio's nerves like it's merely looking at the back of his hand. It seems like second nature to him. "You're so boring! Didn't take you to be a stickler to the rules!"

"It's called self preservation!"

----------

How did this happen..? How in the galaxy had he managed to land himself in this position..? What is it? Nap time? He's out like a light!

Earlier, [Name] had decided to annoy him again, typical, but Ratio was having none of it. So like any other sane person, he ignores the genius in favor of the book he's currently reading. But of course that didn't stop [Name] from teasing and poking him. Trying to get a reaction.

But as time went on. The researcher seems to have worn himself out and started to doze off. Now, Ratio sits there with a book in hand but despite that, his mind was in other places as his gaze shifted towards the sleeping genius who had his head on his shoulder and his right arm being hugged by the other in his sleep.

He's out like a light! What time even is it? Nap time? Maybe it's [Name]'s constant all-nighter he pulls whenever he's so absorbed by his research and experiment? Or is this a by product of his dog-like nature?

Either way, this can't continue!

But when Ratio tries to wake him up, [Name] doesn't seem to respond to it, at all. Sleeping like a rock. So... Ratio decided to just.. let him rest..

Maybe he needs it?

Every time Ratio tries to focus on the book he's reading his mind would always drift towards the sleeping researcher that's using him as a human pillow.

He could feel [Name]'s warm breath hitting his exposed biceps, his shallow and calm breathing, it never fails to send a shiver down his spine. He's so.. comfortable.. so.. at peace..

He's far different than the usual hyperactive, seemingly endless energy researcher he's known for! And that.. makes him feel.. warm..

To think he'll have the honors of witnessing such a rare, vulnerable, and.. intimate side of [Name].. it's..

Ratio snapped out of his thoughts once he felt the other began to stir and slowly woke up from their nap. A nice and comfortable nap. [Name] blinks, once, twice. Before letting out an adorable yawn.

Letting out an annoyed sigh, Ratio spoke up, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I assume you've had a nice nap."

"Oh I did! It was sooo nice~" [Name] took the chance to tease the other as he hugged Ratio's arm closer to his chest with a huge grin plastered on his face. The doctor huffs as he begins trying to shake the other's hold on his arm. "Then get off of me, you damn dog. My arm is tired."

[Name] chuckles in response as he tightens his grip. He hums softly and rests his cheek on Ratio's shoulder, looking at him with big puppy eyes. Trying to act all cute and adorable. "But if your arm's tired, why didn't you just shoved me? You could have done that earlier, right doctor?"

This caught him off guard for a few moments. What is he supposed to say to that? [Name] let out a gasp upon seeing his hesitation. "Don't tell me that you actually enjoy it! Aw~ Ratio you could have just said so! I could have been your cuddle buddy from the start!"

"Cuddle buddy!? How absurd! You dare think that I—Dr. Veritas Ratio. Would ever need such things!? Especially from you?!"

"But your face is red~ I'm right aren't I~?"

"?!"

#seme male reader #top male reader #x male reader #reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 medicine pocket #medicine pocket #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x male reader #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x male reader #hsr ratio #dr veritas ratio #hsr dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x male reader

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vintagebuckybarnes · 3 months ago

Text

Unexpected Connections

Pairing → Neighbor! Bucky Barnes x Neighbor! Fem! Reader

Total Wordcount → 1.9K

Summary → Living next to the one and only Bucky Barnes and the cutest cat you've ever seen has its upsides, and when he asks you to come along to one of the parties Tony throws, you're about to find out just how good the perks can be.

Tags & Warnings → Mostly canon compliant, neighbor au, Avenger Bucky Barnes, Civilian Reader, Bucky's past is referenced a few times, occasional use of Y/N, fluff, first meetings.

Author's Note → Hi, and welcome to my first story for Bucky! I'm pretty excited to have been working on a story for him, as he's been my favorite since I joined the fandom of the MCU a few years back. I hope you will enjoy this story, and I'm looking forward to creating more and reading everything you all have made, as well.

Bucky Barnes - a former assassin who was brainwashed and used as a weapon, Avenger, and the best cat dad and neighbor you could have ever wished for - is someone you never thought you'd get close to. Not only do you live completely different lives, but you're also socializing in entirely different circles. Despite this, the universe had its plan ready when he moved into the apartment next to yours a little over six months ago.

It's been a few days since your new neighbor moved in, and even though the two of you have run into each other a few times, you never got more than a 'hello' out of him. Today, you're going to his apartment with some of your famous chocolate chip cookies. After checking yourself in your hallway mirror one last time, you grab your keys and the cookie container, ready to introduce yourself.

When you're at his door, you knock a few times, and before you can even think about what could happen, the front door opens, and you're met by a sight you only have ever seen in your wildest dreams. A tall, broad man opened the door while holding a stark white cat in his arms - one of them being a prosthetic, based on its black and gold color. His hair is neatly trimmed, and his beard has undergone the same treatment. What you notice most of all, though, is how his blue eyes are roaming over your face in a questioning way, making you feel a bit nervous.

"Hi, uhm, I am here to welcome you to the building! I'm your next-door neighbor, Y/N Y/L/N, and I brought some cookies for you to enjoy as a gift. Though if I had known you had a cat, I would have made a little treat for them, too," you say, internally chastising yourself for saying something so weird.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/N; I'm Bucky and this—" he raises the cat with his arm "—is Alpine, though she already gets plenty of treats from me, so don't worry about that," he says with a small smile. While he wasn't having a particularly good day today, his mood shifted slightly when he saw you.

A soft meow follows his comment as she looks up at her owner as if trying to disagree with him, making you smile at the scene unfolding in front of you. Then, you reach out the Tupperware container with the cookies, and he accepts with a small smile and a soft 'thank you' before you head back. The click of his front door behind you lets you know he went back inside.

Since that meeting, Bucky quickly warmed up to you and your enthusiasm about the things you love. It only took a few weeks for him to open up about his work as an Avenger - which had you gasping loudly - and that he might be gone for weeks on end. That night, you offered to take care of Alpine in his absence, and when she approved of you as well, Bucky was happy to become friends with you.

"Doll?" Bucky asks as he's grabbing a drink from his fridge for you. He just returned from a mission when he found you napping on his couch with Alpine in your arms. You woke up not long ago, but he returned and didn't wake you.

"What do you think of going to one of Tony's parties with me this upcoming Sunday? If you're free, of course," he says with a small smile. He's aware your schedule can be unpredictable at times, with your job at the local bookstore and your volunteer work at the animal shelter, and always wants to make sure you have time to go anywhere together.

"That would be amazing, Bucky! Meeting the Avengers, having fun while getting free drinks, and spending time with you?! There's nothing better if you ask me," you say with a broad smile, which is infectious as Bucky agrees. It would be amazing if you could come with him.

"Okay, I will ask Ms. Jones to watch Alpine for the night then. I was initially going to ask you, but I figured a night with the Avengers would be a lot more fun than to be stuck here with this little goofball," he jokes as he sits down next to you, though she doesn't even open an eye to look at him as he does.

"I don't know, spending nights with Alpine is always fun, too," you tell your neighbor with a giant smile as you pet the white feline's back, her purring intensifying with every passing minute. Your smile is infectious, as Bucky can feel the corners of his mouth curling up, too.

It's the night of Tony's party, and you're ready to go as you hear a knock on your front door, letting you know Bucky is here to pick you up. After his invite, you went out to get a simple black dress that shows off your curves just the way you like, and your hair and make-up are kept simple, as you've never been one to go over the top with things like that.

As you open the door, Bucky can't help but let his gaze wander over your body, making the butterflies in your stomach go wild as he does. While you and Bucky don't have any interest in each other romantically - with him having a crush on his fellow Avenger, Steve, being proof of that - he can appreciate the beauty of women, and this moment isn't any different.

"You look stunning, Doll," Bucky says, and you can't help but smile as you take a moment to take in his outfit, too. He chose a black suit and a golden bowtie, matching his arm.

"You're not bad-looking yourself, either," you say before grabbing your keys and leaving your apartment. The Uber he ordered is already waiting for you two, and he opens the door for you like a true gentleman. When you're seated, he quickly walks around and gets in himself, ready to be brought to the party.

"What's on your mind?" Bucky asks as he looks over at you. Your nerves are clearly visible as you look out the window, and you're clutching your bag for dear life.

"Well, I- uhm... I'm a bit scared they won't like me," you confess as you cast your eyes down to where your hands are in your lap, holding onto the bag to ground yourself. Before saying anything, Bucky grabs one of your hands, making you look up at him.

"Y/N, I can promise you that there is not a single world in which they would not like you. If I'm being honest, you're an absolute ray of sunshine in your day-to-day life, and I cannot wait to share your happiness and kindness with them. I understand the nerves, but you got me to love you, so I'm positive the others are going to love you as well," he says, his blue eyes looking into yours with a soft gaze.

As he tells you this, you can feel the nerves in your stomach settle down immensely. The rest of the drive goes by so quickly that you don't even realize you're there until you see a bunch of flashing lights from the paparazzi at the party, and Bucky is already on his way out of the car to open your car door.

"Ready?" he asks as he extends his Vibranium hand, and you put your hand in his, ready to get out and into the party. He quickly leads you past the paparazzi, and once you're inside, Bucky immediately spots his best friend and crush - the one and only Captain America, aka Steve Rogers.

"Hi," Bucky says shyly as Steve embraces him, and you can't help but smile at this sweet side of Bucky. While they share some small talk, you look around, trying to see if you can recognize any of the other Avengers, but so far, you have only found Steve.

"You must be Y/N; Bucky speaks very highly of you," Steve says with a bright smile and kind eyes, and you nod as you can feel your cheeks heating up once again. His hand feels very large compared to yours and warmer than you're used to, but Bucky has explained that the super soldier serum raises their body temperature, which is why he's never cold.

"It's very nice to meet you, Steve. I have heard a lot about you from Bucky, both from the 30s and 40s, as well as what you two get up to now," you tell him, and this time it's Steve's turn to blush. Before he can answer, you're suddenly approached by a woman in a long red dress and fiery red hair: Black Widow.

"I was wondering when we would meet you—the sweet, caring neighbor he can't stop talking about," Natasha says with a smirk as she shakes your hand. Something about her immediately piques your interest.

"Bucky can't seem to shut up about you, so I'm happy to see that you actually exist," she says with a wink to Bucky, who rolls his eyes before ordering some drinks.

"I'm happy to hear that Bucky has already informed you about me; it makes me feel good that I'm worth talking about," you tell her honestly, and she smiles at your words. Sometimes, you wish to shut up with your blunt honesty for a moment, but it doesn't matter with Natasha. She enjoys people who say what they think.

"Have you met the others yet? Maybe Bucky could help you find the rest and introduce you," she offers, and your neighbor and friend nods with a smile before offering his arm, through which you hook yours. Before you know it, you've met Clint, Bruce, and Thor, who couldn't stop complimenting you, so the only person that's left is Tony Stark himself.

"Is this real? Am I going to meet Iron Man himself?" you ask Bucky with excitement dripping from your entire being, and he hums in approval. You spot the man you're looking for quickly, as he's always a significant presence in every room he's in. As you approach him, your heartbeat rises steadily until it feels like it's beating out of your chest.

"Well, who do we have here? If I'm not mistaken, you're the only Y/N Y/L/N," Tony says in his smooth voice, and the butterflies in your stomach go wild. He always has this effect on women, and you're most certainly not immune to it when he gently grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the back of your hand.

"H-hi! Yes, that's me," you tell him with a broad smile, which he reciprocates in his typical manner that melts hearts and ruins panties everywhere he goes.

"It's an honor to meet you, and I hope Bucky will treat you right tonight. Now, go and have fun, you two," he says before being pulled away, leaving you with wobbly knees from the excitement coursing through your entire body.

"I can't believe it, Bucky, I've met the Avengers! Me, a simple human, meeting the Avengers of all people! I can't believe it," you tell him excitedly, your pace of speaking rapidly increasing as you get increasingly excited about what has just happened.

"You're not just a simple human, Doll; you're the best neighbor and friend anyone could wish for, and I'm happy you're here tonight," he says before guiding you to the bar, ready for the rest of your evening to start. The entire time, you're made to feel welcomed by everyone, and you couldn't imagine a better first meeting than the one you've had today - apart from the one you had with Bucky, that is.

Masterlist → Bucky Barnes masterlist

GIF: Source → All the other graphics are made by @vintagebuckybarnes

If you'd like to be tagged in future stories, add yourself to my tag list here.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x female reader #winter soldier x y/n

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anjee0 · 2 months ago

Text

Coincidence

Female!reader x Eminem (Feel free to put in your own oc insert as well)

Description - 20 years after Y/n and Marshall break up, they run into each other again. Coincidence?

Warnings - Explicit language, smut, derogatory language (kind of), creampie?? (I'm not too sure)

“And cut!” The director called out.

Y/n let out a quick sigh of relief as the scene ended. Her assistant immediately came over to put a robe over her. She had just finished a sex scene for the movie she was working in called 8 mile. Y/n looked over at Marshall who she had just done the scene with and gave him a wink.

“Alright, lunch break everyone!” The director said as he got out of his seat.

Y/n and Marshall had a secret relationship that no one knew about. Since the recording of the movie, they grew closer together and eventually started to date. They agreed to keep it private, no one needed to know about it, especially the media.

Y/n went to her trailer to take a little break. She decided to eat her lunch there just to have a little quiet. She got her lunch out and took a bite out of her sandwich. Suddenly, she heard a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” She asked.

“Marshall.” The voice said.

Y/n smiled to herself softly. “Come in.”

Marshall unlocked the door and entered. He locked the door behind him and sat on the couch with Y/n.

“You alright?” He asked.

“Yeah. Just wanted some quiet.” Y/n replied.

“Oh. I can leave-”

“No, it's fine. I want you to stay.”

Marshall smiled before he kissed his teeth. “I was wondering if after tonight I can take you out somewhere?”

“That sounds nice. Where are we going?”

“Anywhere you want babe.”

“How about we head to my place? We can have a movie night, have some fun?”

“Yeah I like that.” He smirked before looking down at Y/n's robe. “You're not hot in that?”

“Are you tryna make me take it off?”

“Nah, I was just asking. But I wouldn't mind if you did.”

Y/n playfully flipped Marshall off before she took another bite of her sandwich. She fanned her face and took a deep breath out.

“Are you getting hot?” Marshall teased.

“No. Well, a bit. It's only warm.”

“Your face is heating up and you're sweaty, babe. You look like a shiny tomato.”

“Eugh, don't say that.”

Marshall chuckled. “Sorry babe. But you could just take it off-”

“I would but can you hold back?”

“Sure.”

“Pfft, yeah right.”

“I totally could. Why don't we put it to the test?”

“How dumb do you think I am?”

“Not that dumb, maybe a bit?” He lied, trying to get a reaction out of her.

Y/n gasped in a dramatic manner playfully as she put her hand to her chest. She took a spare script from the table nearby and smacked Marshall on the head with it.

“Hey!” He exclaimed. “What the hell is your problem?”

Y/n cackled and threw her head back. “You got what you deserved!”

“You are so-”

“Pretty? Smart? The most perfect girlfriend ever?” Y/n asked teasingly in a slightly more high pitched voice as she batted her eyelashes playfully.

“Annoying. You’re annoying.”

“Sure I am.”

Y/n turned on the fan nearby to the highest setting. She hated that she still felt hot with the strong wind blowing in her face.

“I’m just saying, you could take it off. I’m getting cold” Marshall said.

Y/n sighed and turned off the fan, accepting her defeat. She slowly undid the rope holding the robe together as it became free of its knot. Y/n ran her hands down the inner parts of the robe before slowly sliding it off. Her breath hitched as it fell off her shoulders, revealing the lacy, black lingerie she had on underneath. Marshall's eyes couldn't help but linger at the sight of her as his pupils wandered through every inch of her body, admiring her curves.

“See, it wasn't that hard.” Marshall said as he took a slice of cucumber out from Y/n’s lunchbox.

Y/n hummed in agreement before leaning against Marshall’s side and rubbing her cheek against his arm. He put his arm around and fiddled with her bra strap. They both looked at each other as Marshall slightly leaned in. His lips brushed against hers, ever so teasing her. He placed a small kiss on the corner of her lips before pulling away.

“Mm, babe.” Y/n whined.

“What?” Marshall asked.

“That wasn't a kiss.”

“No, I still kissed you.”

“Barely.”

Marshall chuckled and shook his head. “How can you say that I can't hold myself back when you're so needy?”

“It's different.”

“How so?”

“It just is. I just want my kiss.” Y/n whined.

Marshall hated how he secretly loved the way Y/n would whine for him. It made him crazy for her. He tried to not give in but completely lost it when she pouted.

He placed a soft and tender kiss on her lips, tasting her strawberry lip gloss against his tongue. They both pulled away and pressed their foreheads together. He traced his hand around the silhouette of Y/n's body, his fingertips grazing against her curves and soft skin. She shivered under his contact as she looked into his eyes.

Marshall leaned in for another kiss, this time, there was more passion behind it. He placed his hand behind Y/n's neck and pulled her closer into a bruising kiss, desperate for more.

She played with the hem of his shirt before slowly taking it off and throwing it on the floor. He snapped the elastic of Y/n's bra before his fingers travelled down to her back to undo it. He pulled it off and threw it away onto the floor.

He laid her down on the sofa as he started kissing down her jaw to her neck. His teeth grazed against her collarbone as he slowly sucked on it and moved his tongue along it. Marshall buried his face into her neck and kissed all over it whilst rubbing his half-hard dick against Y/n's thigh.

Y/n used her feet to help Marshall slide off his joggers, leaving him in his boxers only. His kisses moved from her neck down to her chest. He placed his hand on her neck and the other on her breast. His kisses were painfully slow and teasing, Y/n could feel Marshall smirking against her chest as she begged for him to fast.

He took the hand from her neck and placed it on the other breast. He massaged them carefully as he sucked Y/n's tits. She moaned at the feeling of Marshall's teeth grazing her nipple as his tongue sucked hard.

“Marshall, please. I need you.” Y/n whispered.

Marshall moved his lips away from her tits, the saliva making his lips glisten. Y/n put her legs around his waist and moved her hips up. Marshall took the open opportunity to play with the hem of her panties as he held her hip for stability. He leaned down and used his teeth to pull the underwear down and take it off. Y/n exhaled in anticipation as she felt her core heating up.

Marshall took his boxers off, letting his now fully hard cock springing free. He teased her as he rubbed his finger against the entrance of her heat, but not inserting it. Marshall groaned at how wet she was.

“So fucking wet. Just for me.”

With Y/n's last begging whine, he inserted himself into her. Marshall's dick moved smoothly against Y/n's soft and velvety walls. Her cunt immediately clenched around his dick.

“So fucking needy. But I love that. It's hot.”

He moved his hand back to Y/n's neck whilst the other one retreated to under her thigh. Within moments, he started to move his hips. The sounds of their skin slowly slapping against each other combined with their noises of pleasure and breathy moans bought a sultry tension in the air. The room became hot and stuffy as a thin coat of sweat covered their face, making their cheeks stained pink under the dim lighting. They could both feel the heat between them starting to rise as Marshall continued to roll his hips into her.

As he started to pick up the pace, each thrust rippled throughout Y/n's body to every nerve ending. Her eyes were met with Marshall's. His eyes were dark and filled with desire to the brim. Each roll igniting Y/n with excitement and a sultry tension. The creeks of the sofa meshed with their breathy moans and rhythmic beat of every thrust. Y/n could feel her core burning up with each powerful push. She could feel Marshall's hot breath gliding along her face as he panted to urge himself to go faster.

“Gosh, you're so fucking tight, Y/n.”

Marshall started thrusting himself into Y/n with more energy, fully hitting her cervix in a painful pleasure. The seductive tension burned into their bodies as their moans and groans became more ragged and quick. Y/n licked her lips, which had been stripped from the taste of strawberries but now salty from sweating. Y/n could feel her climax inching closer every second.

“Marshall, I'm gonna come.” She said, barley above a whisper.

“Me too baby. I'm so close.”

The final thrusts started to lack the energy from before as they became sloppier. The alluring atmosphere was still present within the room however. Y/n's core felt like a star, ready to burst any second. She came with a cry of pleasure as she felt a warmth of relief as his juices spilled out of her. With one final thrust into Y/n, Marshall came too. His essence came out in thick hot spurts as he released them into Y/n. It also began trailing down her thighs, making it glisten in the dim light. He collapsed on top of her, a crushing weight she didn't mind.

Y/n played with Marshall's hair and rubbed her hand up and down his back slowly. She smiled at the feeling of the low vibration from him humming into her neck. They stayed like that for a minute or two before getting up to get cleaned up.

“I just think that's what's best for us.” Marshall groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So you're just gonna throw our relationship away because a couple pictures of us got leaked?” Y/n asked in distress.

“Not just a couple! Lots! Everyone knows about us!”

“Okay and? Why do we have to break up then?”

“Because this isn't good for my reputation.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Y/n could feel her eyes welling up with tears as an itchy sensation rose to the back of her throat. “You're worried about your reputation? How am I bad for your reputation?”

“It's going to ruin my public image. Those pictures don't go with my persona. We don't work!”

“That is the dumbest fucking excuse ever! We've been working for nearly a year!”

Y/n couldn't hold it in anymore. Bitter tears of frustration and sadness rolled down her cheeks. 10 months. They were having a strong relationship built on security and trust going on for 10 months, nearly a year— but now Marshall wanted to let go of it. Pictures of them taking a stroll in the park and kissing and hugging each other were taken by paparazzi and had gotten leaked. The next day, they were plastered all over the tabloids.

“I'm sorry. But this is what's best for us.” Marshall said in a softer tone now.

“Marshall, you need to understand that us being together isn't going to change anything. You'll still be you.” Y/n trembled.

He didn't respond. He just looked down miserably with a frown on his face as he crossed his arms sternly. Y/n could feel her heart shattering into a million pieces as she watched her boyfriend's stone cold expression. He couldn't even look her in the eyes.

“Fine. Have it your way. Have a great life Marshall.” Y/n whispered harshly as she walked out the door, bumping his shoulder.

Y/n stared at the platter of pastries organised under the clear glass. The warm yellow light from the heating made a wash of gold painted over the flaky and tasty treats. Y/n was staying at a hotel for a movie shoot and she decided to get a small snack in the middle of the night. She was stuck between the pain au chocolat and the croissant. Y/n wanted to be quick as she didn't look her best dressed in her sweatpants and an overly baggy shirt with a low ponytail to top it off.

“Hi there, how can I help?” The lady behind the counter asked.

“I'll just take one pain au chocolat and croissant to go please.” Y/n responded

“Of course.” The lady used the tongs to bag the golden pastries in a paper brown bag with the hotel's logo painted on it. “That will be $10.50.”

Y/n wasn't too shocked with the prices— it was an expensive hotel after all. But maybe she was a little baffled. Although she had a high net worth, she hated spending her money on unnecessary things. As reached for her card to pay, she hesitated.

“You know what, it's fine-” She began to say only to get cut off.

“I'll pay for her.” A male voice said from behind.

Y/n turned to see who this mystery man was. Her mouth fell slightly agape as her eyes met with Marshall's blue ones. She subtly pinched her hand to make sure she was dreaming— she wasn't.

“Marshall?” She asked, confusion lacing her voice.

Marshall. Marshall Mathers. The man she had dated for 10 months 20 years ago was standing in front of her. Y/n had seen recent pictures of him on social media, she did admit he looked hot, but when she was seeing him in person, he looked so much better. His overly bleached hair was now replaced with his natural brunette hair now. It definitely bought out his majestic blue eyes more.

“Y/n.” He responded, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned over a place his card over the machine. When he heard the sound of approval and the green checkmark, he took the bag from the lady and handed it to Y/n.

“Do you wanna talk?” Marshall asked.

“Sure.” Y/n responded. She was glad her acting skills could help her mask the nervousness in her voice.

“Alright, let's head to my room.”

Every cell in her body screamed at her to say no and walk away. Her brain begged for her to turn down the offer and go back to her room. She could feel her heart thumping out of her chest, every beat telling her no.

“Sure, why not?”

She internally slapped herself for agreeing without a single thought. Y/n tried to stop herself, but she couldn’t. Her legs walked after Marshall's footsteps as they got in the lift and went up to his room.

She was quite shocked to see how clean it was. She remembered how his room and recording studio back at his mansion would be messy at times. Marshall offered Y/n a seat on the bed as she looked around, examining it. Y/n felt a dip in the bed as Marshall sat next to her, leaving some space between them.

“It’s been ages since we’ve last seen each other,” he said. “How have you been doing?”

“I’ve been doing good. Acting’s working well. I’m guessing you’re doing good too?” Y/n responded.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing great.”

“How’s Hailie and the kids?”

“They’re doing great. Hailie sometimes asks about you.”

Y/n smiled. Distant memories of her babysitting little Hailie when Marshall was out at concerts came to her mind. She remembered how Marshall only trusted Y/n with Hailie.

“I miss her. She’s growing up quickly, huh?”

“Yeah. So what you doing at this hotel?” Marshall asked.

“Just having a movie being shot nearby. You?”

“Had a concert last night. Feeling absolutely drained.”

Y/n chuckled slightly at his tone. “How’d you see me in the lobby?”

“I was just getting a drink then I saw you. Had to double check at first to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Then I heard you saying that you didn’t want to get the pastries for $10, that’s when I knew it was you. You’re still the same, huh?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to spend $10 on that. And, uh, thanks for paying. You didn’t have to do that. Guess you haven’t changed either.”

Marshall chuckled, feeling quite glad that Y/n still had the same sense of humour. “So, have you been with anyone since we uh, broke up?” he asked.

“Had a few flings. Nothing too serious. Currently single as of now. You?” Y/n asked.

“Same here. I mean, I remarried Kim, but that didn’t work out.”

A long silence hung in the air, that brought a thick, awkward tension along with it too. So quiet that Y/n could hear her heartbeat speeding up rapidly. That awkward tension continued to grow, only for it to be warped into something else. She couldn’t feel awkwardness anymore, something else was lingering in the air that she couldn’t quite put her tongue on. Y/n could feel the air getting tighter as she felt herself slowly leaning forward.

When she realised Marshall was leaning forward too, she knew what was going to happen next. Y/n could feel her whole body begging for her to stop and pull away, to make an excuse and leave. But as the space between her and Marshall began to shrink, she knew it was too late to stop herself. There was no going back now.

Y/n’s lips met with Marshall’s, their collision making everything around her irrelevant, her only focus was him. The kiss was hungry and utterly desperate, something she didn’t know she needed. Her hand reached to the back of his head and pulled him closer, almost by instinct. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she felt his hands being placed on her hips with a sturdy grip. They pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes, Y/n wasn’t sure what she was looking for but she could see that darkening desire reaching Marshall’s eyes— the one she was so used to seeing. Y/n shuddered as his hand went to the back of her neck and slowly laid her down on the bed.

“Do you want this?” Marshall asked huskily, his voice making Y/n feeling a pulse of arousal travel through her body.

This time, every part of her body said yes. Begged for her to accept his offer. She needed this. “Yes. I need this.”

Marshall groaned at her response, feeling something stirring up within him. He placed soft kisses on her neck, taking in the scent of Y/n’s intoxicating perfume. His nose brushed against the pure softness on her skin, nothing had changed. Marshall’s kisses soon became bruising and rough as he left love bites scattered around her neck. It brought him back to their relationship, he whimpered at the thought.

His fingers immediately played with the hem of Y/n’s shirt as he pulled it over her and tossed it on the floor. Marshall stopped to gaze in awe at her body. She still looked perfect and absolutely ethereal. He licked his lips as his eyes landed on the dark red bra she was wearing topped off with some sexy lace. He bit his lower lip as his thumbs made small circles around her hips.

“Fuck Y/n. You're so hot.” He groaned.

Y/n pulled off Marshall's shirt and she immediately couldn't take her eyes off him. He was more toned than the last time she saw him and his muscles were larger now. He went back to kissing her, capturing her lips in a sultry manner as she whined for more.

“Still whiny too, huh? Guess some things never really change.” Marshall teased.

The next moment was a blur as clothes came off their body's and became discarded on the floor. Y/n shivered as her bare body came into contact with Marshall's. His skin felt familiar and comfortable as she wrapped his legs around his waist.

“All those flings you had. Did they all fuck you?” Marshall asked.

Y/n piqued in confusion at the random question. “Why are you asking me that?”

“I want an answer Y/n. Did they fuck you?” His tone was dominating like a spell that Y/n had easily fallen under. She could feel her submissive side of her coming out.

“Yes. They did.”

“Were their cocks bigger than mine?”

“No.” She was being truthful.

“Did they fuck you as good as me?”

“No.” Again, being truthful.

“Did they make you scream and cum like how I made you scream and cum? Did they fuck you so well and hard that you couldn't walk for ages?”

“No. Only you've done that.”

“Good. Thank you for telling the truth.”

Marshall cupped her core and received a whiny moan from her. She was already soaking, which made him give her a devious smirk.

“So fucking wet already.” He groaned. “Not surprised.”

“Marshall, please. You're taking too long.” Y/n begged.

She expected his thick cock to slide into her but instead he slid one of his fingers instead. Y/n could feel her breath hitch.

“You didn't really think I'd give you my cock straight away, right?”

Before she could react or even utter a word, he slid another finger into her soaking walls. She gasped loudly at the pleasurable surprise. Not even a second later, he added a third finger in making her arch her back and moan at the sensation. Immediately, her cunt clenched around his fingers. Embarrassment radiated off Y/n. She hated the way her body had betrayed her.

“Not even my cock in you and you're already getting tight around me. You fucking whore. You're just a needy slut.” Marshall spat.

If it was another man, Y/n would've pushed him off and spat in his face. But something about Marshall made it acceptable. Maybe it was the way his voice sounded throaty and gruff. Or maybe it was the way he looked right into her eyes with no shame. Either way, it made her even more turned on for him.

Without warning, his fingers started moving. It wasn't as good as his cock, but it was better than the other guys Y/n had been with. Her moans blended perfectly with the sound of his fingers moving inside her velvety walls at a standard pace.

Marshall pulled his fingers out that were glistening like a lustrous light. He placed his wet fingers on Y/n's lips and she didn't waste a second. She immediately started sucking on his fingers, catching a taste of her. She watched as Marshall groaned in pleasure watching her with his blue eyes, never taking them off her.

His free hand moved to Y/n's nipples, he twisted and pinched it, making her cry out Marshall's name. He slowly massaged her breath, matching the pace

“Marshall. I need you. I need you in me.” Y/n whispered as he took his fingers out her mouth.

“Anything for you.” He moaned.

He slipped his hard dick into Y/n's delicate walls. She gasped loudly and arched her back. It had been ages since she felt Marshall’s cock in her, and gosh, did she need it. He hadn't even started moving and she was already a moaning mess.

“Fuck, Marshall. Please move.” Y/n begged.

“I love it when you do that. Fuck, how can I say no to you, huh?”

He didn't waste a second as he began rolling his hips into Y/n at a steady pace. As the heat in her cunt started to rise, so did the temperature in the room. A fine layer of sweat glazed their skin, making it shine in the warm lighting. Y/n panted with each thrust, each push travelled through her body and sent a wave of content all over. Marshall’s dick glided smoothly against her cushiony walls. He could feel a rapid flow of lust taking over him with each roll. The vulnerability and submissiveness in Y/n’s eyes made him groan and quicken his pace. Something about seeing her underneath him and spread out all from him made him go wild.

As his speed started to increase, each thrust became striking with more energy and passion. The sounds of the skin slapping against each other started to rise against the sounds of their airy moans and gentle whimpers. The sexual tension between them started to grow. Marshall whispered sweet nothings into Y/n's ear, his gentle murmur tickling the fine fibres of hair on her ear. His thrusts increased to fiery speed, sending shared rolls of enjoyment between the two. A cloud of pure desire and lust rained over Marshall's head and caused him to produce absolute burning thrusts.

His momentum started to slow down as the energy began to leave his body. Each thrust was sloppy and slow. Y/n placed her hands on Marshall's hips firmly to help him move a bit more quicker. His dick hit her walls with a mounting pressure that felt so desirable and satisfying. Their climaxes were inching closer with each roll. Y/n's hands trailed down to Marshall's back as she dug her nails into it. The blazing commotion in her cunt rose, as her moans and pants became messy, waiting for the climax.

The last thrusts were quick and jagged, before they both came at the same time. A pleasurable warmth grew between their legs. Hot and thick gushes of Marshall's essence squirted into Y/n, making her squirm. He collapsed on top of her immediately. Y/n wrapped her arms around Marshall and embraced him. When he pulled out, he watched as his juices spilled out of Y/n's core. Marshall licked his lips and kissed Y/n's cheek— salty from sweat.

“You did great.” He praised Y/n.

She responded with a small hum of thanks before she got up and sat on the edge of the bed. “I'm gonna take a shower.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“I'm fine.”

Marshall nodded understandably. “Okay, I'll just change the sheets then.”

Y/n hopped into the shower. The hit water glided down her body as the steam it produced engulfed her. She closed her eyes and stood under the shower head, trying to process what had just happened. She'd seen her ex she hadn't seen in 20 years and had sex with him. Y/n exhaled slightly as she reached for the body wash to clean herself.

After she had showered and dried herself up, she picked up her clothes from the floor and put them back on. She couldn't wait to get to her room and immediately change it out for something that didn't stink.

“Where are you going?” Marshall asked as he finished fitting the clean duvet cover and bedsheet.

“To my room.” Y/n replied in a monotonous tone.

“Why not stay here?”

“I thought I was just a ‘fucking whore’ and a ‘needy slut’, right Marshall?”

“Hey, I didn't mean any of that. It was in the heat of the moment. Sit next to me. I wanna talk.” He patted the empty space next to him.

Y/n sat on the edge of the bed, next to him and waited eagerly for what he had to say.

“Y/n, I always think about that night we broke up. And every time I do, all I feel is regret. I always wonder what would’ve happened if we didn't break up.”

“I always wonder that too, Marshall.” She responded softly.

“This'll make me sound like the needy one but, fuck it. I miss you. I need you in my life.”

“Do you miss me or the sex?”

“I miss everything. I miss your smile, your laugh, your voice, your kindness, your love, your everything. You're the only girl I've ever truly loved.” He confessed.

Y/n could tell he was telling the truth, which made her heart flutter like multiple cocoons of butterflies opened up in her chest. She knew that deep down inside of her, she wanted Marshall back. Y/n cupped his face and smiled at him softly.

“Do you wanna start over again?” She asked.

“I do. But only if that's fine with you and I don't want you to feel forced into doing this.”

“I want to do this. I don't feel forced. I- I've missed you too.”

Marshall smiled at her before placing a gentle kiss on her lips. “Okay, you can get changed out of those clothes and wear some of mine. I'm gonna take a shower.”

As Marshall went to the bathroom to shower, Y/n took her clothes off and put them in the laundry basket for the dirty clothes. She looked through Marshall's wardrobe and settled on a baggy t-shirt and some shorts.

When he came out of the shower, he chuckled at how ridiculously cute Y/n looked.

“What? You told me to put on your clothes.” Y/n said.

“I know. It looks cute.”

They eventually got into bed as they wrapped their arms and legs around each other, putting themselves in an embrace full of love and warmth.

“Goodnight Marshall.”

“Goodnight Y/n.”

#eminem #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers x reader #slim shady #slim shady x reader #8 mile #b rabbit #b rabbit x reader #jimmy smith jr #jimmy smith jr x reader

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emphistic · 9 months ago

Text

"Buttface"

Things Reader Should Acknowledge: I THINK IVE FINALLY GOTTEN THE HANG OF TUMBLR (hip hip hooray!), i plan on having yuuji being sukuna's baby brother, however, yuuji hasnt been born yet

Prologue: Ever since Sukuna moved in next door, you two have grown closer. Like, impossibly close. One might even call you two "friends;" albeit Sukuna would always shut that idea down. But one thing Sukuna wouldn't shut down? — is that he loves to see you smile. And he would do anything to hear your laugh, over and over again.

A/N: this is in the same universe as "I'm Lactose Intolerant", and while the ages of sukuna and reader dont really matter here, i wrote this with the idea of sukuna being 14 years old and reader is 13 years old (feel free to change that to whatever you desire), brownie points to whoever recognizes the movie that sukuna and reader are watching

Please REFRAIN from REPOSTING MY WORK (REBLOGS ARE EXEMPTED FROM THIS RULE)

"This movie is stupid."

"You think everything is stupid, Stupid." You quip back, flicking Sukuna's forehead.

"Touché." He scoffs, and crosses his arms over his chest before leaning further back into the couch. You put your legs on his lap.

You grin to yourself, wondering if he really didn't notice that you called him by the name "Stupid". Then you think, he's probably just in a good mood, and go back to watching the comedy playing on the screen.

"I mean, how can it take you so long to figure out that someone who looks exactly like you is actually your long lost twin sister?" Sukuna moves his hand around to somehow make his point seem more valid.

"Besides, isn't this supposed to be a comedy? Where's the humor in this? This isn't funny, at all," Sukuna drones on — until you decide that you've finally had enough.

"This isn't funny? Well . . . it's not like you're funny, either." You stick your tongue out at Sukuna, in a teasing manner — to which he does the same.

"That's just what you think. I bet you didn't even know that all your friends come to me during break just to listen to me talk. In fact, most of the time, I'm not even trying to joke around, I'm just that naturally funny," Sukuna wore a smug look on his face.

"Sure, 'Kuna. They're just laughing because you have such a funny face. Sometimes I even get you mixed up with a chihuahua, you know."

"Oh really?" Sukuna glares at you, and gets closer to your face.

You copy him, "Yes — really."

At this point, the tips of your guys' noses were just centimeters away from touching. You could practically feel his warm breath on your face.

Woah.

Now you could hear your own breathing quicken.

Since when were Sukuna's eyes so red?

Your cheeks felt warm.

Why are his eyes so, so—?

"Buttface." Sukuna interrupts the silence.

You get pulled back to reality. "What did you just call me!?"

"What, you deaf now? I called you 'buttface,' Dumbass."

"Seriously, someone needs to control your vocabulary."

"Pft, I don't need any controlling."

You laughed, "Sure, Sukuna. Sure."

The movie ended, and the credits rolled. Sukuna grabbed the remote and turned the TV off, before getting off the couch.

"Want something to drink?" He peered over his shoulder at you, raising a brow.

"Ah, sure. Lemonade."

"Too bad, I ain't getting it for you," Sukuna stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweats and walked off — to the kitchen, you assumed.

You grumbled, and threw a pillow at his back. It just bounced off, though, and you sighed.

He returned minutes later, with a glass of lemonade in his hand. Which was a clear sign he was trying to aggravate you, because he's expressed multiple times his strong detesting of the refreshing drink. (You completely disagree with him, by the way.)

"Dude, seriously?" You frowned.

"Totally serious. I mean, I couldn't resist. This glass of lemonade was just calling my name." He took a sip.

"It is so good."

Another sip.

"Shame you don't have a glass yourself."

And another sip.

You were practically ripping out your hair at this point. "C'mon, 'Kuna. If you won't get me a glass, can I just have a tiny sip of yours?" You entreated him with all your might.

Sukuna rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger, pretending to think about his decision. Finally, he said, "What's with that name you keep calling me? And — what's the magic word?"

You huffed, "Please?"

He gestured for you to go on.

You clasped your hands together in a desperate, beggar-like manner. "Pretty please, Sukuna? Just a teensy weensy sip? For poor ol' me."

"Hmm, let me think. How about . . . no."

You gawked at the pink haired boy.

"WHAT."

"You heard me."

"Aghhh!" You jumped on Sukuna, trying to grab the glass of lemonade yourself. If he wasn't going to share, you just had to take matters into your own hands — literally.

Your attempts were fruitless, however; Sukuna just kept on raising the glass higher and higher above his head, to the point you couldn't even reach his wrist. Damn him and his stupid growth spurt.

His hand starts to shake as you try to climb him like a tree. Next thing you know, your wish is answered. You got your lemonade. Except, not in the way you had hoped. The lemonade was everywhere. On your clothes, Sukuna's clothes, the couch, everywhere.

"Oh shit." This time, you didn't correct Sukuna's obscene language.

The room became so silent that you would be able to hear a pin drop.

"Sukuna!" You whisper-shout. (You had no idea why you were whispering.)

"Don't look at me, this was your fault!" His hand still held the now empty glass.

"Me? This was all you," you retorted, jabbing a finger into the older boy's chest.

"Sureee, Y/N. Let's just forget about the fact that you were practically climbing my body."

You blushed.

"You could've just gotten your own cup of lemonade, but no, you just had to spill mine."

You scoffed, "Well, you could've shared, but you didn't — because your shellfish."

Sukuna looked at you funny, "Do you mean 'selfish'?"

"Same thing, you know I make mistakes with pronunciation."

He shrugged. Then, a great idea popped into your head.

"Your mess," you exclaim, before pushing off of Sukuna and darting away, only to be pulled back by your hood.

"Hey!" You shout, falling back onto Sukuna's chest.

"This is your mess. You caused this, remember?"

You groaned, turned around, and tackled Sukuna. You guys ended up rolling off the couch altogether. Pillows were thrown, and the lemonade spread onto the carpet.

"Let go of my foot, you big oaf!" You yelled, shoving at Sukuna's face.

"Not until you admit this was all your fault." He continued to wrestle with you on the ground.

"In. your. dreams."

You guys continued to fight, which made the mess even bigger. It felt like hours had passed. Hours where you still didn't get even a sip of lemonade. Then, you heard the sound of keys, and next thing you know; your parents walked in.

Your heartbeat hammered in your chest.

Your mom and dad took one good look at the two of you on the floor, and your mom said, "Knock it off, you two. And clean up the couch. I don't want my living room smelling like lemonade for the rest of the year." They walked into the kitchen.

You turned back to look at Sukuna, just to find him already staring at you. You guys continued to stare at each other before bursting out into laughter. Tears were basically streaming down the both of your guys' faces at this point.

Your mom yelled from the kitchen, "Ah, young love these days. So different from us — right, honey?" Your dad responded with a loud chuckle.

Looking down, you realized the position you were in. Sukuna lying on his back beneath you, while you were sitting on top of him. The expression on your face immediately soured.

You and Sukuna pulled away from each other in record timing, both of your expressions clearly, visibly flustered.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna x you #ryomen x reader #jjk x you #em writes ˎˊ˗

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caesium-55 · 10 months ago

Text

—seven days. [ ii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: not beta-read. not edited. here's part 2 folks. part 3 is on the works now. did i write this fic instead of studying for my important quiz tomorrow? yes, yes i did. pls pray for my score.

masterlist.

For Christmas in 2019, Max has gotten you an apartment near his in Monaco. It is a loft apartment good for one on the 8th floor, a building away from where Daniel and Max lived. Originally, he wants to get you the unit a floor below his. You decline quickly, insisting that you are very fine with rooming with Julia and Kendall, who are both members of the Red Bull PR team whom you have gotten close with since your first year working with Red Bull. Max may have beef with the PR team for making him do a lot of embarrassing shit for the views but you're besties with most of them and actually thank them for making Max suffer through PR stuff because you cannot afford therapy and watching Max suffer through PR-related activities is a good form of free therapy. Also, Monaco apartments are fucking expensive. Red Bull might be paying you well but not well enough to afford an apartment in a country as expensive as Monaco.

“I want you close,” he tells you. If you did not know any better, you'd have butterflies fluttering in your intestines right about that moment. Sometimes, Max utter the most heart-fluttering of nonsense without meaning to. It causes your heart to stutter more times than you would like to admit.

“Well, I don't want you close.”

Max will never ever win an argument with you. He knows that. You know that. The best he can do is come to a compromise, a compromise that is usually tailored to suit whatever you want.

So you got that small loft apartment a building away, good for one person only. It's easy to clean and it's cheap, Max already said that, which makes you happy because you can set a payment plan for that. An apartment as a Christmas gift is already too much, borderline giving you a heart attack already. Rich people spending their money give you, a person of the middle class folks, heart attacks. Why can't Max be normal and give you a normal gift? A bracelet? A bag? You’ll even accept it if he gave you a slice of cheesecake. Not even your parents can buy you an apartment.

It has only been three years since the keys are passed on to your ownership and people say three years is enough time for a person to make a place home. But your apartment doesn't even feel like home, only a place you’ll sleep in if you happen to be in Monaco for the evening.

Home is that humble, two-storey house painted in red and yellow in Lynnwood Avenue, Vista Del Pueblo, Austin, a total picture of a picket fence dream. Home is Abuelo's old farmhouse in El Paso where you spent your childhood riding horses and driving ATVs across the dusty dry earth. Home is the retro milkshake place owned by the sweet old couple that has been in the neighborhood longer than your entire existence. Home is the tree-lined streets where you walked the family senior dog, Niko. Home is the Austin Fire House, your Dad’s workplace that you visited a handful of times back when you were a child to deliver cookies that your Abuela baked so your Dad could share it with his co-workers. Home is your mom’s clinic in the middle of downtown, always smelling like eugenol, disinfectant, formaldehyde, and her perfume. Home is not glitz and gold and glamor and cash cash cash. Home is not seeing wealthy people left and right. Home is not Monaco.

And it is not like you stayed long in your place either. You're always off traveling around the world with the Red Bull team and accompanying Max wherever he needs your presence. You don't even spend your breaks in that apartment because you immediately fly home to your family once a break is graciously given to you before flying off again to watch Max collect trophy after trophy.

Six days from now, you're going to be flying off to Texas. That means you have six days—less than six days actually—to pack all your crayons and go. Of course you're going to pack up the day before you leave. Doing shit last minute makes your life exciting, and it's not like you had a lot of shit to pack anyway. All your belongings can be tucked into a total of three suitcases. Three years worth of belongings in three suitcases.

you: you doin good there?

Max has been holing himself up in his penthouse since your arrival from Abu Dhabi, probably dealing with his breakup with Kelly. A shame, really. You thought the two looked good together. (Do they really? the asshole part of your brain thinks.)

And P. Thank God for that child’s existence. You hate children but P is an exception. P brings the best out of Max. Max has gotten the chance to act as the father he never had. It's heartwarming, to be honest.

him: not really no

him: can you bring me coffee

you: on it champ

Fifteen minutes later, you’re knocking on the gigantic double doors of his penthouse, a tall styro cup of espresso from that cute café two streets down and a slice of blueberry cheesecake because you’re thoughtful enough to buy him his favorite cake. You experienced a breakup before. A cake and an icecream work wonders when it came to healing broken hearts.

“You're fast,” he immediately says after opening the door. You kind of expect that he’d look worse, snotty and messy and looking like he ran from hell and back. But no, he looks……fine? His sweater and shorts look absolutely neat and comfortable and dry of snot. His hair is a little fluffy from lying on his bed but not too messy. He doesn't even look like he was crying. No red-rimmed eyes. No red nose.

You fake gasp, putting a hand on your chest for additional dramatic effect, “The fastest racer in F1 callin’ me fast. Truly honored.”

A smile plays on his lips, sidestepping and beckoning you in.

You frequently come by Max’s home, for work purposes of course, but you still cannot help but be amazed by the enormity of it every time you enter. Max’s penthouse is twenty times bigger than the apartment you currently live in. One man and a big house—it must be very lonely now that P and Kelly are no longer around. Now, you’re even more worried about what will happen the moment you go back to Texas.

Oh… You still haven't told him yet.

“Coffee,” you hand him the warm styro cup to which he accepts gratefully. He utters his thanks, taking a whiff before sipping, letting out a pleasured moan.

You make your way to his gigantic kitchen, navigating your way through his cabinets in search of a plate and a fork. You slide the cheesecake on the plate towards Max, who followed you to the kitchen and sat on the empty stool in the kitchen counter.

“Thank you,” he says, picking up the fork and taking a bite. He glances at your feet, eyes trained on your YSL. The obnoxious sound of the heels clicking against the floor as you walk probably is the one that caught his attention.

“You know, you've been wearing the same shoes since 2019.”

Points for Max for noticing. These YSL Opyum heels are the first luxury items you bought for yourself after saving for three years to buy one pair. You saw a rich international student wear it once back in university and you liked how sophisticated it looked compared to all the pairs of converse or platform boots you owned. So you made it your life’s goal to own one. In 2019, after doing tons of part time jobs in university and working with Red Bull for a whole year, you managed to buy yourself one on your birthday and you’d been wearing them to work ever since.

Your regular work uniform consists of a Red Bull polo shirt, a pencil or a slit skirt, and that specific pair of heels. Around 2021, you bought another pair to replace the old one because the old one broke. And 2022 again.

“What's wrong with ‘em?” you ask, brows furrowing as you followed his train of sight. Your heels might be a year old already but they still look fine.

Max blinks, “No, there's nothing wrong. Just…Do you think you would want to wear some other design?”

“No,” is your reply. “I like ‘em just the way they are.”

“Okay.”

Your conversation drifts into something else as Max finishes his coffee and cake. You spend the rest of the day in Max’s penthouse, lying on his plush couch while a slasher movie from the 2000s played on his wide TV. He has given you access on his Netflix account so you abused it to your heart’s content because you don't even have. a Netflix subscription. You can absolutely afford one, you just choose not to. You have opted in using your phone mid-movie because the movie is beginning to get real scary but you do not want Max to think you're a coward so you acted like you're disinterested instead.

“Oh look, Charles is also back in Monaco. Do you want to hang out together?” you nudge Max with your foot, who swats it away from him, face contorting in disgust. You show him the post on Charles private IG—yes, you were mutuals in each other's private IG because whoever is friends with Max was friends with you by extension—on your phone.

“Stop makin’ that face, my feet are nice.”

Your toenails are a glorious red now. Ferrari red actually and they suit you better than the Red Bull red. Huh, maybe you should have considered applying for Ferrari instead of Renault in 2018.

“No, it isn't.”

You roll your eyes, pulling it away from him and sitting up, “Do you want me to schedule you a dinner with Charles? You might need the bro time, you know? Dad said bro times are also important, but not as important as family time, of course. My bro broke up with his sweetheart back when I was still in uni and his best buds were the reason he was back up in tippy top shape by the end of the week.”

Max stares at you blankly, “I think I understand the words individually but not the sentence entirely. I don't know if it's the accent or you Americans just have a strange way of structuring your sentences.”

“Point is, hang out with a friend because a friend can help you move on from a pussy.”

Max hurls a throw pillow at your direction, which you luckily avoided thanks to your non-racer level but still considerably good reaction time, but unfortunately, this action causes your center of gravity to shift and before you know it, you're falling from the couch. Unconsciously, you grab Max but then Max doesn't expect that you’ll grab him so now, you’re both falling off the couch and onto the floor.

You groan.

“Fuckin’ ass, man. That was uncalled for.”

He flips you off.

Nevertheless, Max ends up following your advice though and calls Charles to hang out the next day. Lestappen fans should be thanking you on Twitter the next day for bringing those two together on an off-day in Monaco. Maybe they'll hang out and eat together in a restaurant? Maybe they'll go on a yacht picnic?

Except Max sends you a message at high noon.

him: sos

you: is your kitchen burning

him: no

him: but this is still an emergency and you need to come quick

him: he’s with his girlfriend and i don’t want to thirdwheel

you: succ it up

him: you can’t do this to me

him: i just got my heart broken in abu dhabi

you: where are you

him: home

him: i also need help in cooking

Charles is the one who answers the door when you knock. He looks genuinely surprised when he sees you and you deduce that Max hasn't told him that you're coming over.

“Babe, who’s that?” you hear Alex’s voice behind Charles and you light up immediately, quickly moving past Charles to throw your hands around the sweet young woman.

“Alex!” Alexandra laughs and hugs you back. The sound of her laughter is as pretty as she and God definitely has favorites because why did he sculpt this twenty-one year old like the daughter of the Aphrodite while you look like you were born from one of Hephaestus’ sperm that lost the gene pool contest? The world is unfair. You always get the short end of the stick, may it be career-wise or appearance-wise, and you can't even bring your personality to the table because normally, without the whole act of professionalism and sophistication you put on, you act like an extroverted American frat boy on a good day and a sassy drag queen slash war freak on a bad day so yeah, you guess that's the short end of the stick, too.

“Seriously?” you look up and saw Max holding a frying pan, staring at you unimpressed. You roll your eyes and slowly pull away from the hug, gaze returning to Alexandra.

“How’ve you been, sweetie? Been a while since I last saw you.”

You didn't get a chance to talk to her in Abu Dhabi and in Las Vegas.

“Good,” she replies, smiling sweetly and ugh, you want to pinch her cheeks so bad. But Charles is pulling you away from Alexandra before you can do so.

“No, no, she is mine, yours is right over there,” Charles says, pointing at Max, who's still standing there in the corner. “Go on. Shoo.”

You roll your eyes before walking up to Max, “‘Sup?”

Max raises a brow at you, “So Charles’ girlfriend gets a hug and I get a sup?”

“Well, she's Alexandra Saint Mleux and you’re just….” you look him up and down. “Nevermind, what you trynna cook?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“I thought you said you were cooking.”

“I said I needed help with cooking.”

Your eyes narrow into slits, “You’re going to let me do the cooking, aren't you?”

“You know that pasta you made in September that you said was your mother’s recipe?”

A sigh escapes your lips as you roll the sleeves of your button-up to your elbows and power-walked your way to the kitchen, the sound of your YSL heels clicking against the floor bouncing against the walls of Max’s kitchen.

Lunch goes great. Charles and Alexandra love your cooking. Max has even asked for seconds. Good to know that he's eating well. Somewhere down the line, champagne is served even though it’s mid-afternoon and the four of you're sitting in Max’s balcony, staring at Monaco scape below. Thankfully, it is a cloudy day in Monaco. The heat of the sun isn't too harsh on the skin. Despite that, you hand Max a sun screen.

“Sorry about Kelly, by the way,” Alexandra says. Your conversation has drifted towards Max’s failed relationship now.

“That is very nice of you to say,” replies Max, smiling slightly. “But I’m okay.”

You give him a look, clearly unconvinced. Admitting vulnerability gives him hives so he's definitely lying.

“You look too okay for a guy who ended a three-year relationship,” Charles muses and his words get you immediately thinking.

Oh? So they’ve been dating that long? You never noticed.

“Even [Name] looked worse when she broke up with that Williams mechanic two years ago and they dated for like what? Barely a year?”

“Unprovoked!” you exclaim. Alex and Max laugh.

But yeah, Charles is right. When you broke up with Leo in 2021, it was not the prettiest sight. He entered Williams mid-2020 as a mechanic and he immediately caught your attention. He's kind and handsome and a very sweet guy. You have similar interests—engineering—and a similar sense of humor and you just….work so well together, you know? You were sure he was your soulmate the moment he cracked up that Physics pickup line and you know it was the same with him. You swore to God that you’d run away from all the British charming assholes but Leo made you eat your own words and gave you a run for your money.

But alas, 2021 season came and Red Bull Racing became busier than ever because Max and Hamilton got crazily competitive and Max demanded your full attention, needing you as a support system to win.

And Leo. Well, he’s busy, too. Engineers are always busy. But he felt neglected because all your attention was on Max. He felt like he was competing with Max for your attention and it shouldn't even be a competition in the first because Leo was the boyfriend and Max was not. And you cannot even deny that you prioritized Max that year. You wanted Max to win. You needed Max to win, so he can finally ask Horner to move you to the engineering team.

Losing Leo is devastating but Max won the WDC title that year and while you spent nearly a month crying over Leo after the breakup, you're hoping that at least, in 2022, you’ll finally get that damned engineering position at the cost of losing your soulmate. That the tears you shed and the broken heart you carried inside your ribs will be worth it if it was in exchange for your dream. Then, it does not happen. The job isn't given to you and you spent the early months of the 2023 season wishing that you have chosen Leo instead of Max Verstappen.

“You’re still friends with him, right?” Charles turns to you.

“Of course,” you say honestly. You're still mutuals on IG and he still hearts your IG stories at times. You still talk, too, on the freer nights where there's a lot of time to waste. “We ended on good terms.”

“How about you, Max?”

“Can we not talk about this please?”

The four of you empty that bottle of champagne and once the sun has begun retiring for the night, Alex and Charles also left. You're soon to follow, fixing your tote bag and going through the mental checklist in your head so you will not forget anything and not waste energy returning here to pick it up.

“You can stay for dinner.”

Max’s offer surprises you.

“No.”

His face drops as quickly as your answer came.

“You're goin’ to let me cook again.”

“No, I’ll cook.”

You give him an unimpressed look. Clearly, you're not convinced.

“I swear, I’ll cook.”

“What if I get poisoned?”

“You won't get poisoned.”

When you continue staring at him, he sighs.

“Just stay please?”

Of course, you stayed. He asked after all.

You keep your eyes on him as he makes dinner with clumsy hands and a bit of unsureness behind his actions.

“You're goin’ to burn it, honey,” you point out.

“What honey? I didn't put any honey in it.”

You blink. He blinks back.

“You’re gonna give me aneurysm one day.”

Shaking your head, you walk into the bathroom at the end of the enormous hallway, lock the door behind you, lean your back against the door, and slowly slides down until your ass meets the cold bathroom floor. You slap a palm against your forehead and purse your lips to stop a scream from erupting.

God fucking dammit, Max is too adorable back there and this is not doing good things for your heart.

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #manager!reader #fluff #formula one #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33 #mv33 x reader

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aventurineswife · 29 days ago

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hii there!! this is my first request ever— so sorry if its bad and u dont need to do if id you’re uncomfortable ofc :)) ive had to leave people whom i thought were good friends many times, or ive been abandoned by them and its happened again recently—

so may i ask that you write something with either aventurine or dan heng (u can pick one or both) seeing the reader in their room in the aftermath of having to leave another friend or group of friends? the scenario i have imagined is that the reader is also feeling alot worse than usual since they are starting to feel that they might be the problem. theyre crying about it in their room where the other hears them and comes to check the reader out of worry. the reader talks to them about it and the other comforts them and promises that they wont have to worry about having to leave or being abandoned by them.

so sorry if thats an odd, specific request 🥹🥹 i adore ur writing and i thought it would be cool to ask!! feel free to change anything as you see fit :)

“You Are Not the Storm”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Support, Angst with a Happy Ending, Found Family, Reassurance, can be read as platonic or romantic.

Warnings: Mentions of loneliness and self-doubt, Emotional distress and crying, Themes of abandonment and self-blame.

A/N: I'm so sorry to hear that, anon 😕 i totally get where you're coming from, I had to leave a friend too because of personal reasons and this has happened to me throughout my life, so I totally understand you. I'll be your friend if you'd like. Hope you like this!

The room was quiet save for the muffled sound of sobs. The soft light of the moon filtered through the blinds, casting silvery streaks across the floor. You sat on the edge of your bed, head buried in your hands, your shoulders shaking. The hurt was raw, cutting deeper this time. The thought repeated in your mind like a cruel mantra: Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the problem.

A quiet knock came at the door. You barely registered it, lost in your spiral. Then the door opened gently, and a familiar voice called your name.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?” Aventurine’s voice was soft but carried an undercurrent of concern. His eyes were filled with worry. He leaned casually against the doorframe, trying not to overwhelm you with his presence. “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. That’s unlike you.”

You sniffled, quickly wiping at your face. “I’m fine,” you lied, though your broken voice betrayed you.

Aventurine tilted his head, his hair catching the moonlight. “You don’t look fine, darling. And I don’t like hearing you cry.” He stepped into the room, crossing the space between you in a few strides before kneeling in front of you. He reached out, but his touch was tentative, giving you space.

You hesitated but eventually let the words spill out. “I had to leave again. Another friend, another group… It keeps happening. And I just… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why am I always the one who ends up alone?”

Your voice cracked, and tears welled up again. Aventurine reached out, this time cupping your hands in his gloved ones. His expression softened, his usual flamboyant charm replaced with a rare sincerity.

“Hey,” he said gently. “Listen to me. This—what you’re feeling—it’s not because you’re flawed. People come and go in life for a thousand reasons. Sometimes, it’s not about you at all. And sometimes… people just don’t see the brilliance that’s right in front of them.”

You shook your head, your doubts still gnawing at you. “But what if it is me? What if I’m too much? Or not enough?”

Aventurine gave a small, sad smile and squeezed your hands. “You’re enough. And anyone who makes you feel otherwise doesn’t deserve you in their life.” His eyes gleamed, his usual playful confidence creeping back in. “Besides, have you considered that maybe you’re just too fabulous for them to handle?”

Despite yourself, a faint chuckle escaped your lips, and Aventurine’s smile widened. “There we go. That’s better. Now,” he said, sitting beside you and throwing a casual arm over your shoulder, “let me make one thing clear. I’m not going anywhere. I’m stubborn like that. You’re stuck with me, darling.”

You leaned against him, letting his warmth and words sink in. For the first time that night, the weight on your chest eased, just a little.

Dan Heng stood outside your room on the Astral Express. He’d been walking by when he heard the faint sound of crying. At first, he thought it best to give you space, but his worry won out. Quietly, he knocked on the door.

“Come in.” you said, your voice weak.

Dan Heng stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room before landing on you. You sat curled up on your bed, clutching a blanket tightly.

“I heard you,” he said simply, standing a short distance away. “Are you… okay?”

You shook your head, and Dan Heng took a cautious step closer. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You hesitated before nodding, your voice trembling as you spoke. “I’ve had to leave my friends again. I feel like I ruin everything. Like I’m the problem.”

Dan Heng was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, his posture calm and unthreatening. “I don’t believe that. You care deeply about others—that much is clear to anyone who knows you. Losing people hurts, but it doesn’t mean you’re to blame.”

Tears streamed down your face. “But it keeps happening. How can it not be my fault?”

Dan Heng looked at you with quiet intensity. “Because sometimes, people grow apart. Or circumstances force things to change. It’s painful, but it’s not always within your control.” His voice softened. “You don’t have to carry all that blame alone. And you don’t have to worry about me leaving. I’ll stay by your side, no matter what.”

His words settled over you like a soothing balm, and you felt yourself relax slightly. Dan Heng reached out, his hand hovering before gently resting it on yours. “Take your time,” he said. “I’m here.”

And you believed him.

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pomefioredove · 8 months ago

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Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…

So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse

Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good

Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!

ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3

summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it

Jamil Viper

Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.

That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.

Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.

It's a bit strange, isn't it?

Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.

He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.

But that sense of unease doesn't go away.

He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.

And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.

"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."

You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.

"Thank you," you mumble.

You can't think of anything else to say.

"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.

"I'm fine,"

Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.

"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.

"I've... had a rough day,"

Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"

He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.

"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."

You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"

It.

What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.

"Did something happen?"

You hesitate.

"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"

Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.

He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.

But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.

"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"

"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."

He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.

He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.

"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"

Unlike me, he thinks.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"

Like me.

You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.

A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

"Thank you, Jamil,"

He hugs back. "Of course,"

Ruggie Bucchi

It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.

You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.

Ruggie included.

He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.

He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.

And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.

Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?

He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.

Sigh.

"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.

Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"

"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."

The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.

"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.

"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"

You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.

You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"

"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."

The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"

"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"

Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.

"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"

"Did you find it?"

"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"

You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.

After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"

"What?"

"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"

You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.

Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"

"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"

"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"

He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"

"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"

You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.

And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He struggles to respond for a moment.

"That's rough,"

Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.

"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."

"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."

He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"

The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.

"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"

Leona Kingscholar

Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.

Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...

But that didn't bother him. Not at all.

As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.

That plan lasts about five hours.

"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"

That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.

And it's getting closer.

"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."

Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.

"I'm trying,"

This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.

"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"

Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.

He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.

"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."

"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"

This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.

You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"

"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"

"This is-"

"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.

"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"

Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"

"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."

You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?

"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.

"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"

"Your... offer...?"

Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"

"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"

He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."

Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.

"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."

Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"

"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."

"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.

As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"

"Are you alright?" he asks.

Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"

"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"

"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"

Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.

"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"

You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"

He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"

Floyd Leech

Of course, he can tell something's up right away.

Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.

His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?

Now this catches his attention.

"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.

"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."

"But you're not,"

"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"

Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.

"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"

"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"

Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.

"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"

"Why?"

There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.

"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"

He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"

"FLOYD!"

He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.

When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.

"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."

You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"

"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.

Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"

"Are they ill?"

You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"

"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"

Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"

"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.

Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.

"Now will you tell me?"

"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"

Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"

"Tell me about it,"

"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"

You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"

"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."

"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.

His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"

His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"

"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"

"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"

His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.

You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"

"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"

You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"

Rollo Flamme

Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.

The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.

The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?

They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.

He loathed being talked down to.

Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.

And now you're just quiet.

"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

You shrug.

"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"

No response at all.

Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.

"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"

"No,"

A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.

"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"

That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"

He struggles for the right words.

How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.

Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.

Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?

He couldn't quite come up with an answer.

"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."

"It's not your fault,"

"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"

A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.

"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.

Another pause.

"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jamil viper x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #floyd leech x reader #rollo flamme x reader #can't believe this is the first time I've written for rollo on this blog... bby I've missed u

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