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grandisknight · 23 days ago

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in bloom | xavier

summary: You take Xavier to see the flowers of memories past, though something changes this time around.

tags: suggestive, established relationship, afab!reader (v genitalia mentioned), kissing, flowers, sneezing, sex pollen, aphrodisiac (in a sense), straddling, dry humping, grinding, dry orgasm, (1) jeremiah mention, inspired by 'celestial message'

wc: 2.4k | ao3 | kinktober in deepspace masterlist

a/n: mildly inspired by a portion of celestial message (his birthday card)! my small present to the galaxy’s brightest star, happy xavier day (in advance) <3

The sight you’ve found yourselves in is truly beautiful—natural flora stretches the grounds beyond what the eye could see, in a sea of greens to soft blues and purples that stand proud. Even with the passage of time, the secret garden claimed to be yours and his has blossomed so well.

Part of a birthday surprise for your beloved star, you lovingly roped him into revisiting the grounds once more.

With the warmth of the sun lightly tracing onto your backs, it glitters so effortlessly in the shine of Xavier’s doey gaze. Held gently under you, the bedding of nature supports his reclined posture. It softened his earlier tumble, after a twirl in his embrace and a slight misstep placed you in the very scenery. One hand now laces yours for comfort, the other steadying your waist and gentle to the touch.

The breeze was ever so gentle, tickling your senses and the petals alike. A deep inhale serviced the dewy origins, fresh and yet with a hint of saccharine delicacy to their lingering notes. Refreshingly pleasant, leagues different from the bite of pavement in Linkon City or a battlefield with its loamy terrains and dust.

“The view is as stunning as I remembered,” you say, smiling at an equally pleased Xavier. “I’m glad we were able to make a visit.”

You brush his bangs aside, letting a spare petal fall beside him and revealing the forehead hidden beneath. Leaning down, you press a soft kiss to the skin, feeling his brow twitch at the touch.

“Mm,” he confirms. By the time you pull away, he’s already risen to meet the distance in a newly upright position. Xavier meets you head on, the tip of his nose nudging yours in thought. “Very pretty.”

You realize his eyes never left yours, and you frown. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

The edge of his lips curls for a brief moment, though his voice remains calm. “Like what, exactly?”

“You know, with those eyes.”

The kind of eyes that were soft around the edges, ones that only spoke of a gentle affection that yearned for love and to be loved. A look so prominently full of adoration and unspoken emotions breaching their surface—a quiet confession of care that intended to memorize this very moment.

And in those very pools of blue, you find yourself sheepishly blinking at him, unsure of how to face such a fondness without wanting to shy away.

“It’s not like I have any other ones,” Xavier teases, his hand reaching to cup your jaw. He redirects your shifted gaze back to his, as bright as the star twinkling near his chest. “At least let me look at you.”

“You’re looking at me too much,” you try to reason. You could feel the embarrassment warm your cheeks as you mumble, “It’s unlike you to stare for so long.”

Xavier blinks. Then, blinks again. And by another round of fluttering eyes, he only shakes his head and with a gentle chuckle of, “I want to. I like looking at you, anyhow.”

His thumb swipes across your heated cheek in thought. “I feel as if there aren’t enough moments in time that let me admire you like this.”

“That’s—“ Even more embarrassing, you want to admit. Not that you could deny the flutter of your heartbeat at the sound.

So you just inhale, like the ones before it—but you pause, feeling a knowing itch creep upwards. With a swift turn of your head, you expel the sudden sneeze into your tucked elbow.

“Bless you.”

“Tha—ah, ah-kshoo—!” How romantic. You inwardly cringe with a sardonic purse of your lips.

Amusement softens his words. “Bless you, again.”

“Sorry,” you manage, huffing away the sudden fit. A sniffle accompanies your apologetic gaze. Odd, your nose still tingles; partially stuffy, yet you have no urge to sneeze once more. Still, precaution leads you to face away from him in case it comes.

All too quickly, you’re keenly aware of just how warm everything is. Sunshine prickling your skin was one thing, but it never bothered you much until now. A dry swallow drags along the inside of your throat—even more strange, you feel an unnerving wave of need and longing for a drink, coupling something… else.

It shows on your face, though you try to conceal it. Xavier barely reappears in your peripheral, concern drawing his brows together. “Are you feeling okay?”

His question barely registers at first. “Peachy,” you lie, nearly dragging the sound from your tongue. With a turn, you open your mouth to continue a quip, but it falls short and hangs open when you take in his appearance.

Unlike his usually serene and relaxed expression, Xavier’s skin burned a flush so bright, you would’ve mistaken it for a terrible, terrible sunburn. His chest rises and falls—normal, yes—but at a heightened pace, a breathless pace. Shallow, almost. You want to laugh at his blushed state, but stop in your tracks when your eyes search his.

Dark, and not from the lush of his lashes, staring at you with a half-lidded stare. Does he even realize how alluring he looks in this moment?

The laughter in your throat quickly dies down, and a surging need to do something about it fills you instead. It claws at your stomach with hot hands, traveling down to your core.

Oh, this is dangerous.

Your questions receive their answers when his nose nuzzles yours once more, this time more insistent than the last. “Really?” The singular word held an edge, roughing the normally soft cadence he spoke with.

There were only a handful of times where Xavier would sound so different—one, in the mornings where he wants nothing but ‘five more minutes’ trapped in your warmth. (And really, an excuse to avoid going to work so soon.)

Another, on the rare blue moon of sickness that itches his throat and dulls his senses. Where a remedy of soothing teas and attentive touches would comfort him some.

And then, there was the third—when he was about to devour you whole, skin to skin and reshape your body to remember nothing else but him. The times where his hands and mouth would explore you endlessly, only to eventually find his way into your welcoming warmth and drag out long, needy moans of your name.

In that tone dripping with nothing but indecency and an affection to you—the very same that you just heard.

If it were any other situation, you think you could’ve managed. But when neatly planted on his lap, hipbone practically digging into one another and a gaze so searing that it could contend to the one bubbling within you, you find yourself shaking your head.

“No,” you whisper, intensely aware of the current predicament. “I feel… hot, Xav. I don’t know why, but I—“

Want nothing more than to strip you bare and ruin these flowers, along with you in them. To scratch at the unrelenting heat numbing your senses, to succumb to the spike of desire—all these things run through your mind, yet fall short on your tongue.

“I know,” he reassures, though it comes out heavier than expected.

His hand releases yours, and for a moment, a pang of disappointment washes over you. It’s put at ease when both of his arms curl themselves around your waist in an almost possessive hold, keeping you to him instead.

Xavier drags his nose across your cheek, then down to the meeting place of your jaw and earlobe.

“You feel it too, don’t you?”

Too, he says. So the flushing skin carried more than what it seems, and a part of you—the primal urge to unsheathe him whole—is elated.

“What,” you breathe out, squirming when his lips press together and grace your skin. “Is this?” You instinctively tilt your head back, granting him more space to cover you in peppered kisses.

“There shouldn’t be any major Wanderers nearby to ruin the Meta—ah…”

Your ramblings bleed into a faint moan when those same lips found your pulse point, wet and ardent as he worked a blossoming rose against it. His teeth graze slightly, sealing their mark before sliding to the other side of your neck, more than ready to mirror the mark. And he does, in ardent succession, repeat his sign of affections.

A hand sneaks to toy with the fabric of your dress, slowly lifting the skirt to bunch at your lower back. Encouraging you to lower your body, to rest perfectly against him. It draws you closer, more so than before—you could barely stifle a relieved sigh when his groin finds your cunt, rubbing at you through hardened slacks. You find your hips rocking against it, chasing the feeling for what it was worth; and it was definitely worth the fine groan that draws from his puckered lips, continuing to suck at your skin with a firm press.

Xavier drank you in like a bee to honey, nosing and kissing wherever his mouth would take him. Feverish even, when he returns your salacious grinding with his own and arms tightening around you. You run your fingers through his fine strands of starlight, and he groans into your clavicle at the feeling of nails gently scraping his nape.

What was once a soft, gentle breeze now carries the palpable tension of your bodies cradled amidst the flowers. The scent of arousal pricked your nose—whether it was yours or his, you couldn’t make heads or tails of it—and only grew worse with every deep cycling breath. Labored, all equally and undeniably filled with primal want.

There was something gratifying about the way his cock strained to meet you through fabric, and how you had a feverish inclination to take him whole. Every grind that slips between your folds and just barely meeting your clit has you desperate for something more. Tingles in all the right places, sending your mind into your pleasurable overdrive.

A particularly pointed rut of his hips has you choking out his name, thighs trembling to meet them back in tenfold. “I—I might just—if you keep doing that,” you waver between wanton moans, coils in your abdomen quickly coming undone.

Xavier withdraws his lips, sheen with ardor and the efforts of marking your skin. His forehead finds your shoulder, pressing further into your warm body and mouthing there instead. “Close, are you? Just from this?”

“I can’t help it,” you whine, and with a wiggle of your hips you confirm that, “You’re no better than me.”

The very length that hardened and prodded against you was proud, see-sawing you to the heated brink you found yourself falling towards. A frictional transaction at best, and your undoing at worst.

His hands paw at your bottom, gripping the plump flesh and only moving you further along. “You’re right,” he mutters, angling his jaw to barely skim your ear and says, “Does it make me worse if I want you to come like this?”

“You monster,” you breathe out in jest, though no malice was found in the desire that overwhelms your response.

“Just for today,” he insists, canting his hips into you furthermore. A chaste kiss touches your lower lip, quietly asking for permission to seal them with his own. “I’m close, and I know you are too.”

“Yeah,” you concede with a breath against his lip. His eyes flutter to a close in anticipation when the warmth fans over him. “You got me there.”

Your own thundering heart rings loudly in your ears when you press your mouth to his, swallowing your moans and his in the heat of it all. Dizzying, a pandora’s box of temptation that drives you to trace his canines and fight against his own tongue.

You nearly bite down on said tongue when climax finally crashes into you, toes curling and pleasure ebbing in gentle waves as you come undone. Xavier’s hold was steady, and no sooner did a throbbing between your legs mark his own high—at the very least, he was honest. Sounds of muffled groans flowed from his throat to yours, pleased before parting for much needed air.

The moment stayed this way for a couple of heartbeats, with only the sounds of your breaths coming to a collective slow and occasional bristle of flora in the wind. Your sense of heart came to a calm, detangled from the thorns of indecent intent.

The air is crisp to your inhale, and an exhale makes you realize what exactly just happened. “Xavier,” you mumble, patting his shoulders. “Did we just…”

“We did,” he dryly confirms, and can’t help but chuckle at the awareness. His voice softens as he asks, “Do you still feel hot?”

“I’m good now,” you reassure with a nod. Sliding your hands to cup his cheek, you inspect the fairness of his skin and note the feverish blush was long gone. A bummer, when he looked so cute with it in the first place.

“Guess you’re fine now too.” With a light pinch, you find your jest from before and say, “You were blushing so much I nearly mistook you for one of the tomatoes from Twinkle Toys.”

Xavier’s nose scrunches at that, brushing away your teasing with a shake of his head. As swift as light, his arms tuck underneath your bottom and hoist you into the air—much to your surprise, a gasp escaping your throat.

You steady your hands atop his shoulders, squeezing them in turn. “What are you—“

“We shouldn’t stay here too long,” he says calmly. His head inclines to the bed of flowers briefly—though, his azure rings bore into you with unwavering interest, bright and tender. “Who knows what’ll happen if we never leave.”

You hum in agreement, leaning down to press your forehead to his. “Should we ask Jeremiah about these?” He is a florist after all, only one of the few you were familiar with. “I’m sure he knows a thing or two.“

“Nah.” Xavier touches his nose to yours in greeting. His eyes twinkle as he says, “Unless you want him to find out how you were on top of me and—mmph? Mmph, mmm.”

You silence his tell-tale with a kiss, to which he happily accepts all the same. Looks like you’ll have to table the thought for another time. He chases your lips even when you part, and only a finger could barrier his jutted lip.

“Later,” you promise. “We have a schedule ahead of us, you know. And uh,” your eyes trail downwards, noting a particular patch on his slacks. It registers the feeling between your own legs, to which you sigh and say, “We should make a quick stop home, too.”

“Alright.” Xavier nods, getting the message. With another bounce, he keeps you in his raised embrace and begins to walk along a flowery path.

“By the way.” He says off-handedly amidst the trek.

You hum. “Yes?”

“I promise not to tell Jeremiah how hot you looked on top of me.” “Xavier! Don’t you dare!”

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caesium-55 · 8 months ago

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—seven days. [ vi.iii ]

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: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.

The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.

He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.

Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.

Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.

“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”

You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.

“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”

Champ.

Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.

2022

you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer

you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8

max: youre not my mother

you: i am ur manager u ass

you: and i have ur mom’s cell no

you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds

you: 10…

max: you wouldnt dare

you: 9…

He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.

When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.

“What are you doing?”

“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lestappen?”

“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”

Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Romantically?”

You nod, “Want the link?”

“Absolutely not.”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Your loss.”

Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.

Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.

Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.

Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.

You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.

Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.

At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.

Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.

His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.

“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.

You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.

“No,” Max shakes his head.

“When will you?”

“Soon.”

That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.

One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.

(That's what he told himself last year, too.)

“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”

You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.

2023

“Should I break up with Kelly?”

Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?

“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.

“Nothing,” he lies.

“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.

“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”

I think I love you, [Name].

“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”

Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.

“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”

He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”

“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”

Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.

He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.

Beer

A spot in the engineering team.

Your family

He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?

Max calls his sister that evening.

“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”

“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.

“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.

“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”

“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”

“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.

“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”

“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”

Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.

It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.

“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.

Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.

It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.

Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.

Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.

Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.

Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.

You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.

“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.

He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”

Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.

“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.

“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”

“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”

Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”

Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.

Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.

Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.

“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.

You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.

“Yeah.” A lie.

The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.

Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.

He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.

Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.

“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.

The white shoes.

Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.

“That's not—”

“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”

Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.

“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”

Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.

“That's not for me,” Kelly states.

“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.

“Then who’s it for, Babe?”

Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.

“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.

For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.

“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”

“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”

“Do not even say my daughter's name—”

“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”

Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.

Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.

“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”

She leaves quickly.

Max’s phone buzzes.

you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?

max: yeah

max: i’ll be there soon

you: i’ll wait for u

max: you always do

Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.

Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.

He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.

Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.

you: landed

you: thanks for the jet

you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st

max: ok

max: stay safe

max: your dad will be alright dont worry

you: i hope so

It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.

max: are you okay?

max: just landed in belgium

max: mum and vic says hi

max: hey it's been a week now

max: is your dad okay?

max: im worried

max: call me soon please

max: happy holidays

max: or merry christmas

max: whatever you celebrate there in america

max: yeah i greeted a little too early

max: you didn't answer my call

max: im friends with logan now by the way

max: we talk at times

max: im trying to get him into sim racing

max: maybe it'll help him improve

max: happy holidays

max: i called your cell

max: you know christian just told me something funny

max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager

max: he said you resigned

max: very funny

max: please tell me you didn't

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 imagines #manager!reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33

789 notes · View notes

borathae · 10 days ago

Text

↳ Index [Day 28 - Sounding]

Pairing: Good Boy!Yoongi x Mommy Hard Dom!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Idol!Yoongi

Kinks: very intense and deep subspace, he is a subby and devoted masochist, hints of enjoying rather rough free use, primal play cause she roughs him up a little and calls him “her prey” hihi, she presses him against the front door and touches him, choking, he also later chokes himself, hair pulling, thigh riding, some very mild CBT with her knee, needy and sloppy making out, she leads him to the bedroom by his tie, oh yeah he is wearing a suit, needy stripping, use of a sensitivity cream, use of a prostate vibrator, male anal play, sounding of his leaky cock, he experiences very intense pleasure, use of a vibrator against the sound, full body squirting orgasms <3, subby boy tears, dirty talk, praise, I just gotta say it again he is in very deep subspace, this is my service Dom dream oh lord, loving aftercare, they’re kinky & in love <3

Wordcount: 5.7k

a/n: click this !nsfw! link if you wanna get a visual. like, i don’t think you guys understand. i’m fucking obsessed with this kink jdfja confession time, i never did it in real life but it looks so fun and i need to do this to a willing subby boy omfg oh lord what the fuckckkckc i need to touch some grass lmaooa

Yoongi in a suit is to die for. Yoongi in a suit tight enough to show off his strong chest and big butt is your official end.

So when he comes home that night, exhausted from an award show and happy to be back with you, you can barely keep your hands to yourself.

Yoongi manages to place the keys down on the dresser and he already has you around him, nuzzling your nose into his neck.

“Hey there superstar, I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

You give him a little nibble, grabbing his butt unapologetically.

“Oh”, he gasps, tensing up. “What are you doing?”

“Just making sure it’s still there.”

He laughs, looking into your eyes deeply. He is amused by you and enjoys what you are doing, it’s obvious in his look.

“Last time I checked, it was still there. Yeah.”

“Mhm, it is. Mhhhhm it really is”, you coo, rubbing his buttocks unapologetically while you press your chest against his’. You slide your grabby hands between his legs and squeeze.

Yoongi squeaks in surprise, getting on his tiptoes and widening his eyes. He even grabs your shoulders, looking completely disoriented for a second.

“That seems to be still there as well. Mhhm how heavy and warm, my darling”, you rasp, massaging his balls rather disrespectfully. He is wearing very tight briefs in order not to have a weird bulging accident in public. They are very tight and very thin and keep his plumb balls right where they’re supposed to be and oh lord, how easy it is to grab them like this.

Yoongi’s knees buckle slightly, his eyelids flutter for just a second.

“Okay, can we- Ahm, ah, ___ this isn’t my butt”, he gets out.

“I’m aware”, you say matter-of-factly and grab his waist, using his moment of total surprise to twirl him and press him against the door.

Yoongi both squeaks and moans, head hitting the wood against his will as you practically keep him hostage.

“Tell me to leave you alone”, you rasp and Yoongi knows that this is you asking for his consent.

“Please don’t leave me alone”, he begs, giving you everything you needed to know.

You hook your hands in the collar of his suit jacket, ripping it off his body like this. His weakened arms flail for a few moments before you have them pinned against the door.

“Holy fuck Yoongi, you ripped your vest”, you gasp, staring at the ruined fabric of his suit vest.

“My back was too big, I-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as you practically steal his breath away by pulling him into a kiss by his hair. His head is tilted back like this, his back is arched.

A tremor of shock and pleasure runs through his entire body, his hands desperately reach behind him to grab your wrists. You tug rather harshly on his hair and his poor little heart can only take that much before it implodes. It also isn’t helpful that you have your knee lifted between his legs, applying rather painful pressure on his cock and balls.

He whines into the kisses, throat working oh so hard to swallow all the drool he suddenly produces.

He had a very stressful and long day. The award show was filled with exhausting social interactions, tiring speeches and way too many noises. There was also his constant need to look presentable in fear of being filmed in an unflattering moment and the constant pressure not to do something that could later be regarded as a “scandal”. Yes, that even includes normal human functions like letting out a little yawn or accidentally zoning out on someone’s face. Truly, his day was long and exhausting and he was so excited to come home to you and be himself again.

He didn’t expect such a greeting and quite frankly, it is way too powerful for him. His toes give up on him, forcing him to sit down on your knee and therefore increase the pressure on his balls. The kiss breaks because he lets out a pained moan.

You eat it up with a hungry growl, digging your hand deeper into his luscious locks. Your other hand slides to his waist, bruising it slightly as you begin guiding his body over your thigh.

“Wait please”, he gets out, collapsing into the door, “wait.” His eyes are squeezed shut, his cheeks flushed, “Mommy, wait.”

“How do you expect me to wait when you call me like this? I had to watch you be pretty on stage and I couldn’t do anything about it. Don’t deny me my right to claim you.”

Playing rough is what works for you and him. In the earlier stages of your relationship, when you and he got to know each other’s kinks, you had a long and thorough talk about your dos and don’ts. Playing rough and using the other “whenever” is something you discovered to both like. Honestly, you feel like Yoongi secretly likes it even more than you. He might be whining right now, but his body speaks a different language. He bends and arches it into the most unnatural positions just to get closer to you. His cock is so swollen in his slacks and his balls so plumb against your knee. He gets off on this.

He gets off on the thought that you were practically waiting for him to come home, that he is so desirable to you that you can’t control yourself anymore, that everything you need is him. Yoongi would never admit it, but he loves being desired to the point where you are almost animalistic with him. Sometimes he does something solely to catch your attention and when you react in uncontrollable desire to touch him, Yoongi feels high. A true rush of pleasure however are the moments where he wasn’t trying and you still end up needing him. When those disrespectful, horny touches start, when you are rough with him, when you almost seem to hunt him like prey, Yoongi could honestly climax just from that.

It turns him on so much.

“Mhm Yoongi? Tell me why I should wait”, you stress, digging your fingertips into the back of his neck.

“I don’t know”, Yoongi whines, tilting his head back.

“You don’t know. That’s too bad then”, you hiss, giving him a rough shove.

Yoongi stumbles, arching his back. He mewls, reaching behind himself to pull you into a kiss. You gladly let it happen, shoving your tongue into his mouth and grabbing his chin to keep him pinned. He has to crane his neck like this, feeling his blood pound in his dizzy head. Your grip is so territorial, your kiss so hungry. Yoongi feels like a well-desired price being taken no matter what.

He turns in your possessive hold, hooking his arms behind your head and letting you kiss him as if his taste was your life elixir. He willingly sits down on your knee again, fucking himself needy with sloppy wiggles of his hips. He also willingly lets you claim his throat in an obsessive grip, melting like chocolate in the sun when you apply gentle pressure on his veins. He trusts you with his life, knowing that you are an expert in stealing his breath. Not once did he get the feeling that having your hand around his throat would end badly for him. You know exactly where to hold him, how to choke him, what not to do. This is religious to him. It leaves him vast of air, dizzy and completely at your mercy and he wants to swim in the fuzzy feelings you create in his chest because of it. Granted, he could still breathe because you never apply pressure on his throat, but he still can’t. He holds his breath to kiss you for longer, only fighting for it once his lungs work against his will. And each time he does, you catch your breath as well, tasting every one of his sounds before claiming him again, needier than before.

And soon, oh so very soon, you cannot take it anymore. You abandon his neck for the sole reason of dragging him with you by his tie. You and he kiss sloppily, moaning and groaning into the other’s mouth as you maneuver through your home.

Yoongi gladly lets you drag him around. Quite frankly, you could do whatever you want with him to get him from point A to B. If you decide to drag him around by his hair, he would welcome it gladly. One time, you decided that it was only appropriate to lead him around by his balls and Yoongi had to do everything in his power to not orgasm too soon. He is quite frankly, your devoted, happy puppy who wants to follow you everywhere.

Tonight he really needed it. He needs to follow you into a place of worship, desire and pleasure. It is the only way to leave behind the stressful award show with its stupid rules and social contacts.

His ripped vest leaves him in the hallway. His belt, which was solely decorative, leaves him in front of the bedroom door. His tie gets loosened inside the room and his buttons get messily opened as you push him to the bed. Yoongi feels like a present being unwrapped prematurely, having to work very hard not to climax prematurely himself.

The back of his legs hit the edge. You weakened him so intensely that he collapses with the first contact, falling onto the bed with a squeaky moan. His back hits the mattress, arching off at impact.

You ravish him with needy touches, clawing off his button up shirt and ripping open the fly of his slacks.

A tight compression shirt reveals itself under the button up. His chest and waist look so snatched in it, his nipples protrude through the fabric.

“You wore this underneath all of it?” you gasp.

“I don’t like to go shirtless under button ups”, he whines, writhing in ecstasy when you drag your nails down his chest and stomach.

“I feel like a fucking predator who got its prey. I literally wanna rip you up and eat you.”

“Please”, Yoongi keens, arching his back.

Ever since the beginning, it was clear that he will be the little bunny and you the big bad wolf in your relationship. And he loves it. He dreamed of it for years, thinking to himself that he will never find someone who can actually make him want to submit like this. And then he met you. You are the most wonderful and kind person ever, you are so sweet and loving and so understanding. Yoongi hasn’t laughed like this with anyone ever, he hasn’t felt so safe and so loved. Being your little prey is everything he lives for these days. You make him feel so fucking fulfilled and in return, you feel completely fulfilled yourself.

He is everything you ever dreamed of. He is kind and sweet and unbelievably loving. He makes you laugh and never makes you feel alone. When you aren’t with him, you think of him and when he is with you, you are happy. It has been years and your obsession with him hasn’t shrunk, on the contrary, you love him more and more each day.

“Fuck, I could honestly eat you”, you get out and begin tugging his shirt out of his pants quickly. Yoongi helps you by sitting up and pulling it over his head, dropping into the sheets again afterwards. He stretches his arms over his head, writhing sensually for your viewing pleasure.

He moans loudly when you instantly claim his unmarked skin with your hungry mouth. You kiss and lick him, leaving spots of your devotion wherever he is sensitive. He takes each mark with pride, leaking into his slacks. He becomes more and more yours. Finally he gets to see it as well. He gets to look into the mirror and count each mark of love you left. He gets to trace them and reminisce about how it was to be yours. He is in paradise.

You suck an especially dark hickey right under his belly button.

“Thank you”, he croaks out, unable to keep his feelings hidden any longer.

You let go of him, soothing the pinch with long, deliberate licks.

“Thank you?”

Your hands are on his waist, holding him hostage. You are kneeling on the floor between his legs. Despite your difference in height, it is you who towers over him. At least emotionally. You might be the one looking up at him right now, but there is no ounce of power in Yoongi. He is completely and utterly under you, choking out another “thank you” while his hips roll up against nothing.

“For marking you?”

He nods his head, squirming sensually.

“Fuck. You drive me insane”, you rasp and claim his waist by biting him deeply. Obviously not enough to actually hurt him, but still hard enough to leave a red mark.

Yoongi wails up, twisting the sheets above his head and leaking into his pants so aggressively that he can feel it stick to his skin.

“Mine.” You come up, kissing the tender spot. “All mine. You’re mine.”

“Yours”, he moans, meaning ever single fucking letter of this word. If he could be yours even deeper, he would. Without hesitation. He was independent and a lover for solitude before he met you. Granted, he is still these things, but he is also very clingy and cuddly and obsessed with attention. Yoongi never thought it possible that he could be a lover of such “cheesy” things, but he is. He loves, loves, loves it when you touch him and hold him and make him yours.

You take off his slacks next, dancing your hands up his legs.

“One last chance to stop this”, you tell him, ogling his bulge. His cock practically wants to burst through his briefs.

“I don’t want to stop this, please touch me more”, he begs, lifting his hips.

You take his consent, pulling off his briefs carefully. You throw them to the side, instantly claiming him by marking his thighs as well.

Yoongi mewls, throwing his legs over your shoulders and giving you complete control over them. They are trembling like crazy each time you mark another spot with your love.

Soon you reach his middle and you waste no fucking time. You nuzzle your face into him, inhaling deeply which embarrasses him.

“Don’t do that”, he begs, wanting to go up in flames. You always tell him that you love his scent, but it’s so embarrassing when you smell him like this. His face feels so hot, his stomach is so tight.

You growl and come up for air, meeting his shy gaze. Yoongi has to gulp when he sees the hunger in your eyes.

“If I could, I would bottle your scent so I always have it with me.”

“Stop please”, he begs, closing his legs in embarrassment.

You obviously force them apart again, holding them in a tight grip as you stand up. They slide off your body like this, but still stay in the air as you hold them. You bend them by his knees, slowly forcing them into the sheets beside his body. Yoongi’s ability to breathe gets more and more forgotten the closer to his face you come.

He holds his breath when you are above him. His legs are over your shoulders, his body is bent in half. He is naked, marked and completely vulnerable while you are still completely dressed.

“Don’t be shy, babyboy. You smell like heaven.”

Yoongi pouts and squirms, forcing you to pin him down.

“I want to give you pleasure so good that you will squirt.”

Yoongi gulps. When you don’t continue to speak, he knows that you are waiting for his reaction.

“What do you mean?” he croaks out.

“I want to stimulate your prostate from every possible angle.”

Yoongi whimpers. He truly and honestly whimpers. When he makes noises as such, it is impossible to know that his voice is naturally so deep and raspy.

“You know what that means, don’t you?”

He nods his head, wiggling his feet on your back in excitement.

“You also know that I’m gonna be so careful with you, don’t you?”

He nods his head with more vigour.

“So what it’s gonna be? Yes or yes please?”

Yoongi knows that there is a secret third answer called “no” which he can always, fucking always, voice, but it’s still so hot to him that you make it seem as if he had no choice. That you are going to pleasure him no matter what because he is your little price and you take what you want.

“Yes plase”, he gets out breathily, widening his eyes in a beg.

You seem pleased by his answer, giving him an adoring smile.

“I knew that you would be polite. You’re Mommy’s good boy after all.”

“I am”, he whispers, nodding his head.

“Mhm, you are.”

You straighten up, helping him set down his legs. He knows that distance is necessary, but he still aches when you break away from him. He counts the seconds until you are back, reminiscing about all the times you pleasured him like this.

Sounding. This is what you are going to do to him. Yoongi is no stranger to the kink and he definitely didn’t have it before you. You and he discovered it together one night where you managed to slip your pinky finger into his cock as you jerked him off and Yoongi climaxed so hard from it that he saw stars. You did research together, bought toys and practiced until the kink became a regular thing in your bedroom.

It is so much fun and feels so good to both of you. Quite frankly, you have done it so many times already that he can comfortably take the entire sound which allows you to stimulate his prostate from another angle. Yoongi didn’t even know that he could feel it from his cock and he definitely didn’t think that he could orgasm so fucking hard. But of course you proved him wrong. You are an actual goddess after all.

“Hello, I’m back”, you announce your presence, caressing his knees.

Yoongi looks at you, sighing your name.

“I missed you.”

“Of course you did. You’re a little obsessed”, you tease him, making him giggle shyly.

You giggle with him, studying him from head to toe.

“Now”, you begin and pick up a anal vibrator, “let’s get started.”

“Wait. I didn’t clean out.”

“I think it should be alright. I’ll only stick it in and then keep it there. Is this okay for you?”

“Yeah, just promise to keep it in. I’m embarrassed about the…potential dirt.”

You chuckle, “you’re not dirty. It is really okay not to want it.”

“I do”, he whispers, “please, I want it a lot.”

“Well. Okay then, I don’t know why you’re whining.”

He laughs, scrunching his eyes. You know exactly how to rid him of his nervousness. You snicker and kiss his knee then straighten up to prepare him.

You cover the vibrator in a translucent slick, spreading the rest of it on his hole. You apply a little pressure with your fingers, massaging him.

“Oh wow”, he lets out, melting into a puddle.

“Can you feel it working already?” you ask him.

Yoongi closes his eyes, concentrating on the sensations. Your touch is warm, growing in temperature the longer you rub him. Fuck, why is he getting so sensitive? Wait. He knows what that means. He rips his eyes open, moaning helplessly.

“Now, you figured it out. Just a little something to increase the pleasure. You deserve it”, you say, exchanging your fingers with the vibrator. You work it into his overly sensitive hole carefully. The sensitivity cream you use on him is slippery enough to double as lube so you aren’t worried about tears. You do this on purpose to help the cream work even deeper.

“This is so intense”, he croaks, eyes squeezed shut. He can’t handle it any other way. He has to focus on nothing but the increasing pleasure between his legs. You stretch his hole so gently. It doesn’t hurt at all, despite the head of the vibrator being rather girthy. With his eyes closed, everything he exists for is this sensation. The slow, deliberate prodding of his hole and the increasing depth of the toy; it is everything he breathes for right now. It is both so relaxing and incredibly exciting. Yoongi doesn’t know whether to completely melt or tense every single muscle in his body.

“Can you feel that, darling?”

“Feel what?” he sighs.

“That you’ve been taking the entire toy for the last few moments?”

“What?” he breathes and lifts his head.

Your hand is pressed flat to his ass, a telltale sign that his greedy hole swallowed the entire toy.

“I wasn’t aware”, he croaks, rolling his eyes back and dropping his head. He fucks the air, moaning your name.

You chuckle.

“Now you are”, you say and grip the toy by its round base to wiggle it inside him.

Yoongi reacts in tremors of his body and submissive moans. Now that he is aware of the depth of the toy, he swears it is impossible to handle. The sensitivity cream does its job and makes his insides terribly sensitive to stimulation. He swears that he can feel the toy shift inside him. He needed this so bad and he wasn’t even aware of it.

“Oh god, this feels so good. I needed this”, he chokes out, hole trembling around the toy as you fuck him slowly.

“Of course you did. I saw how you wiggled your butt when you were dancing. You were just asking to have it fucked, weren’t you?”

Yoongi nods his head because what you say is the truth. He did ask for it to be fucked. It is decided.

“Of course you were. I’m so fucking obsessed with you”, you rasp, rewarding him with side to side wiggles.

“God wow”, he arches his back, “the cream is intense. Oh god.”

“Yeah? Do you feel how I fill you out, mhm?”

“Yes, god, yes.”

“You’re so pretty taking me”, you praise, sending trembles through his legs.

“Stop please, I’m close.”

You cease your movements, soaking up the tensing of his stomach and the little mewl he lets out. Your hands roam his marked thighs, eyes totally entranced by his pretty face.

“Shit, that was close. Ah fuck”, he gets out, writhing from side to side.

“I think you’re gonna have a very hard time lasting long”, you snicker.

“I think you’re correct”, he says, making you laugh.

He laughs with you, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Holy fuck, you have me so ruined”, he mewls, dropping into the sheets in total defeat. “Please, just…more…”

“I can grant you this wish.”

Silence overcomes you as you prepare the sound for him. You use normal lube for it, slathering an insane amount on the metal pole. The sounding toy is a thin metal pole with around six inches of length a good finger’s width of girth. It is slightly textured and has a round tip. It isn’t the first sound you used, but the third one. Yoongi can comfortably take it these days, driving you crazy in the process.

You wrap your fingers around his cock, forcing him to twitch.

You laugh, “this already starts well.”

“I didn’t expect it”, he defends himself.

“Mhm, sure. I think you’re sensitive”, you tease.

You connect the toy with his tip, getting him used to it by rubbing circles around his slit. He became leakier ever since you started engaging in this kink together. Especially when he knows that he is going to get his cock quite literally fucked, his pretty dick can’t stop producing the neediest slick.

“Your pretty hole is so wet, babyboy”, you taunt him, giving him a gentle spank with the toy. “it’s practically asking to get fucked.”

“Please”, he begs, feeling dizzy. There is nothing more powerful than your dirty talk.

“Take a deep breath, I’m starting.”

Yoongi obeys, but struggles when you begin pushing the sound into his small hole. His chest rumbles in desperate noises, lifting up and down quickly.

“Are you comfortable?”

He nods his head.

You push deeper, watching in delight how his pretty cockhead swallows the bulbous head of the toy. The worst part is over. You apply pressure around his shaft, keeping your thumb against his thick vein at the underside of his cock. You can feel the toy entering him when you press against it and you use it to your advantage by massaging him wherever the sound currently sits.

“Slower, please slower.”

“Hurts or close?”

“Close. Fuck, really close.”

“Just keep breathing, baby.”

“I’m trying. Oh god, it feels so good.”

You smile. He is so precious. With a fluttering heart, you fill him deeper, guiding your thumb down his cock as the metal toy fills him up more and more. His vein is bulging wherever the toy already sits, his hole is so puffy around the shaft. He is flushed like crazy, constantly leaking new slick. It seems to become more and more the deeper you enter him, almost as if he is trying to make space for you by getting wet.

“One fourth left, babyboy. How are you doing?”

“Aha, yeah, mhm ah”, he lets out, nodding his head. He doesn’t need to say more. It is so obvious to you that he is in paradise.

You would be correct with your assumption. Yoongi is so far gone, existing only for the pleasure. Now, he has to be honest, getting his cock penetrated is intense. It stretches a hole which wasn’t meant to be stretched and fills insides which were never meant to be filled. It doesn’t hurt, but it is also isn’t entirely comfortable. It is intense and addicting and you do it so well that he feels far away.

There is sudden pressure deep in his body. Yoongi can describe it as a mixture of having the intense urge to pee and someone pressing a finger against his prostate at the same time. He knows that it is because you reached the end of his cock, now pressing the sound right against his prostate. One wrong move and it would hurt, but you know what you are doing.

Because the toy is so deep inside him, it can stay at the right spot without having to be held. You run your hand up his cock, picking it up to jerk it off.

“Mommy, holy fuck”, he presses out, following it up with a guttural moan and his hips lifting off the sheets. The handjob moves his cock over the toy, sending constant pleasure through his shaft. It is indescribable. When his cock is stuffed, he can feel orgasmic pleasure in his entire cock and balls. When you give him a normal handjob, it only feels orgasmic on his tip, but with the sound deep inside him, every inch is sensitive.

Yoongi is restless on the sheets, moaning from the bottom of his heart.

“Yeah, holy fuck. You look so pretty, it’s insane”, you agree, voice raspy in desire. You put your other hand on his balls, pressing your thumb against where you can feel the sound inside him. You draw circles on the spot, focusing your handjob on his tip for now.

“Stop! I’m gonna cum, stop it please.”

You wrap your fingers around his base, rubbing your other hand on his thigh.

“Breathe baby, breathe.”

Yoongi obeys shakily, burying his own hands in his hair.

“What the fuck is wrong with me tonight? Holy fuck, I feel like a fucking virgin.”

“That’s hot. Holy hell, you say the sexiest stuff.”

You pick up a slow rhythm, having to stop it again when he flinches and begs you for a break. You let him breathe through it, holding his cock.

“I can’t, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so sensitive.”

“That’s alright. Just say the word and I’ll make all of this stop. You can get what you want most.” You rub his balls, tracing the sound deep inside him. “It’s gonna be intense though, I can’t promise you that you won’t see stars.”

“Please”, Yoongi writhes as he willingly sacrifices himself to your enchanting touch.

“Please release me or please stop? Use your words, babyboy.”

“Please Mommy, make it stop.”

“Make it stop. I understand. Hold your cock for a moment.”

Yoongi obeys, following you with droopy eyes as you seem to get a third toy. You are hidden behind a blurry veil of unspilled tears and drugged senses.

Suddenly there are vibrations. Deep, deep in his ass and right against his prostate. Yoongi curls up as if he was punched in the gut, moaning the same way too. The tears escape his eyes and you disappear behind even more blurriness as he loses the ability to focus his eyes.

He is glad that you replace his hand around his cock. His muscles are too weak, working only to bring his shaky hand to his own throat. He chokes himself, lost to the pleasure and so far away. The only thing clear is the electricity inside his stomach and your voice as you talk to him.

“That’s my boy. Choke yourself for me.”

Another buzzing joins the one of the prostate vibrator. Seconds later, he feels unbearable pleasure in his entire cock as you press a wand vibrator against the metal sound. The vibrations go down the entire rod, forcing the round tip to shake against his prostate. You intensify it by running your unoccupied hand up and down his balls and cock, forcing the toy to shift and move inside him.

You promised him relief, but this is insanity. You never did that before. You sounded him, used a prostate toy but not like this. Not with vibrations and at the same time.

Yoongi isn’t a very loud person. Even in bed he is on the more quiet site. You get purrs and whines and moans, but they never go past a certain volume. Yoongi is a quiet and reserved person or so he thought.

Because right now, you are making him genuinely scream. He never did that before, hell, he didn’t even think that he had it in him, but he has to. The orgasm you make him experience takes over his entire fucking body. It never felt like this before. It shouldn’t even be possible to feel like this, but it does and he has to scream because of it.

He cums all over the rod, throbbing and convulsing with such intensity that he manages to squeeze it out of himself all by his own. It glides against the wand, shaking because of the vibrations which only makes it more intense. The last inch hurts as the round head slips past his swollen slit. The relief is instant. Clear liquid squirts everywhere, ruining not only the sheets but his body as well.

“Yes baby, squirt for me. That’s it”, you talk him through it, helping him ride out his most intense orgasm ever by jerking off his empty cock and pressing the wand against his overly sensitive tip.

It is not a surprise that Yoongi begs you to stop once his orgasm dies down. You didn’t expect him to go again, not after what you just witnessed. You turn off the vibrators and instantly scoop him up on your arms, holding him safely as he twitches helplessly.

“I’m right here, baby. I’m right here”, you whisper to him, playing with his hair and rubbing his shaking back.

“What did you do to me? Oh god I can’t stop shaking”, he gets out, sobbing quietly as the intense afterglow overwhelms him.

“Shhh it’s okay, darling. I’m right here. Let it happen, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Yoongi seeks your embrace, cuddling so close to you it feels as if he is trying to merge with you. He can’t talk a lot at first, recovering with little noises and shaky breaths. You let it happen, holding him until he feels ready to face you.

And oh, how he faces you, how he looks up at you as if you were his fucking everything. His wet eyes let you know that he cried, his cheeks and nose are still flushed, his once neat makeup is smeared and messy.

You give him a smile, caressing his cheek tenderly.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me, but please don’t ever stop”, he whispers, voice shaky in emotion.

“Did you like it that much?”

He nods his head, “you just made me fucking scream. I, I never screamed before. I felt it with my entire body. I don't know what happened to me. What, what’s still happening to me.”

You smile, dropping your forehead against his. Yoongi closes his eyes, chasing your affection by rubbing his nose against yours.

“You make me happy when you talk like this, my love”, you whisper.

“I’m happy too, so fucking much.”

You smile and kiss his nose. Yoongi chases the tenderness, twisting the front of your shirt with weak fingers.

“Please promise me that we are forever”, he whispers. “I think you would fucking break me if you ever left.”

“God, I really got you good tonight. My sappy romantic, you”, you smile as you talk, pulling him closer, “the only way I’m gonna leave you, Min Yoongi, is if someone claws me off of you against my will.”

He chuckles and holds you close, “good. That’s fucking good. Ah fuck, I’m done. This was so intense.”

“It really was. You made a total mess of the bed.”

“I know. I think my soul left my body.”

You snicker, he snickers as well, kicking his feet happily.

“Gosh you, I could seriously eat you.”

Yoongi purrs, smiling goofily and stubbing your lips with his nose. You take his silent plea for more nose kisses instantly, nibbling on it gently which makes him giggle and squirm happily.

Quite frankly, he will endure all the annoying award shows in the world if it meant that he can come home to you and find his rebirth in the palms of your healing hands.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 months ago

Text

Three for One 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you're used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what's on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Right, this was supposed to be a drabble series but it morphed and not I'm fucked.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

It's the most special time of year! Mistletoe, jingle bells, and holiday cheer! Oh, and hot chocolate. Lots of that.

You hide your thermos under the desk and grab the crystal bottle again, giving a test spritz to the air. Your job isn't very complicated. All you do is say hi and chat about the perfume. Your manager says the job is selling but you don't like to see it that way.

You smile at a family of five as they veer towards the toy section. You don't think the six year old would be into an eau de parfum. It's understandable.

While you spend your hours wandering around expensive makeups and scents, you're filled with a certain hint of longing. For what you're paid to push the merchandise, you can't afford any of it yourself. Well, you've never been very materialistic.

You spin around and see a gentlemen approaching, though he doesn't seem to see you. He looks past you, almost through you. You stop in place and put on your best smile, fixing the red band around your head.

"Hello, sir, would you like to try some Gucci?" You offer and spray the nozzle at him.

He skids to a stop and recoils as if he's been slapped. He holds out his arm as he looks down at his coat, little droplets seeping into the fabric. He takes a whiff, his short mustache wiggling under his nose, and he scoffs as he tries to shake off the cologne.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He snips.

"Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to scare you."

"You just go around spray people with that horseshit?"

"Well, sir, with respect, I don't like that sort of language.

"And I don't like being drenched in dog piss," he blusters, "point me to the goddamn trimmers."

"Um, what kind? Nail trimmers? Pet trimmers? Garden trimmers?"

"What the fuck do you think?" He points to his own face.

You hold your smile. There's always that one customer who's having a bad day. Whatever's got him so upset must be worse than dealing with him.

"Personal care," you point to the far corner, "right over there, sir."

"Ugh," he stomps and storms off.

"I hope your day gets better," you call after him, "oh, did you want a store coupon--"

He ignores you as he waves you off over his shoulder. You watch him turn towards men's grooming and you shrug, rocking slightly. You try not to let them get to you. As jolly as you find this time of year, a lot of people don't feel the same.

You shrug off the encounter. You still have a few hours ahead of you and it's starting to bustle with customers. You help a couple find the home wares while keeping the boundary of cosmetics firm. Lucille, the manager, doesn't like you leaving your zone.

You approach a woman looking at the Prada selection and get her checked out with a new fragrance, specially gift-wrapped by yours truly. She leaves happy, a small victory for the day. You celebrate but not too much.

You come around the counter just as you see that man strutting back up. He has an item in his hand and ignores you as he passes. Still you smile at him.

"Annoying," he mutters under his breath.

"Need help finding anything else, sir?" You ask his heels.

He stops and you see the way his spine stiffens. Oh no, you shouldn't have said anything. He slowly turns to face you.

"You can shut up," he marches up to you and grabs the bottle from your hands, "shut." He sprays you in the face, "up." He squirts you several more times before shoving the vial against your chest, "stupid little girl."

You take the bottle, blinking as you use your cuff to wipe the perfume away from your eyes. He continues on his path as you stand dumbfounded, drenched in Gucci cologne. It's hard to breathe through the heavy scent and you can't help but cough.

What a jerk. Just because he's having a bad day, doesn't mean everyone needs to.

Slowly you grow accustomed to the smell of yourself. It’s not too unusual. You go nose blind about halfway through your shift once you spray a few too many samples. You keep your distance from customers, offering them a spritz but trying not to crowd them with the vapors of cologne rippling off of you.

You yawn as the afterwork rush floods in and you make another round, smiling at Sofia as she peeks over at you. She’s with another customer at the counter, ringing them up as she gabs. You spin at the display at the center of the crossway that runs through the beauty department and stagger back before another can run you over.

You apologise to the tall man as he skids to a stop on his soles. You can tell he’s in a hurry by the way he grips his briefcase and squares his jaw. He wears a long dark wool coat as flecks of snow melt into his thick beard.

“Oh, sorry, I er, wasn’t–” He clears his throat, collecting himself, “I… didn’t see you.”

“That’s okay, sir,” you assure him, “would you like to try the new scent?”

You hold up the onyx bottle but don’t spray him. You don’t need another dousing. He looks at the silver letters on the side then at you. The furrow in his brow lightens as his blue eyes swim.

“No thanks, but er, you think you could help me find something?”

“Of course,” you chime and lower the bottle, “are you looking for a gift for someone special?”

He nods, “my mother-in-law is on her way into town, I need a present. Maybe perfume?”

His tone is tinted with frustration as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck. He lets out a long sigh. He’s one of those shoppers; the last minute scrambler. You grasp the vial in one hand and tug at the front of your thick red sweater, you’re starting to get a bit toasty in the crowded store.

“How old is she?” You ask.

“Um,” he clamps his lips together and thinks, “hmmm, probably seventy-something? I’m sorry, I guess I should know that.”

“That’s okay, I… I would suggest some Liz Taylor,” you turn on your heel and wave him after you as you head off, “it’s a classic. Not so much a me scent but the older crowd likes it. Oh, and it’s on special so your wallet won’t hate it, either.”

You stop by the Diamonds display as you face him again. He follows at a pace and stops before the shelf, perusing the gold caps and crystal caps. He considers the rack in deep thought.

“Here,” you set down your bottle on a nearby table of seasonal decorations and take one from the display. You slip out a strip of cardstock and spray it with the sampler, “this one is gardenia. That was her favourite scent. It’s probably the least pungent.”

You offer him the sample and he eyes it. He slowly bends and sniffs the end of the paper. He wiggles his nose. It makes you sneeze too. As much as you’re a fan of the classic actress, her scents are dated.

“Smells like her,” he grumbles under his breath, “sure, I’ll take that.”

“Great,” you declare and trade the sampler for a boxed bottle, then retrieve your disposed Gucci vial, “would you like me to check you out, sir?”

“Is it faster?”

“I can be fast,” you promise him, “this way.”

You go around the sparkling counters and he meets you across the till. You type in your log in, taking several tries to get your passcode right. The man places his briefcase on the counter,a hand resting on the edge.

“You know a lot about this stuff?” He prompts.

“Yeah, I guess,” you smile as you scan the perfume and tap the special offer on the screen, “kinda part of the job.”

“Hmm” he hums again, in that thoughtful manner. You look at him but he’s not looking at your face, “that’s a nice sweater.”

You look down at the red wool speckled with pearls. It’s new and one of your favourites already. You can’t help a little wiggle of your shoulders, “thanks!”

“Very… cheerful,” he muses as he takes out his wallet, “wish I could say the same of what awaits me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir, it’s that time of year, I guess,” you push the debit machine towards him and he taps his credit card, “I’m sure your mother-in-law will love the perfume.” The transaction approves and the receipt prompts, “would you like an email?”

“Nah, that’s fine,” he tucks his credit card away.

“Would you like it gift-wrapped?” You offer, “it’s free?”

He hovers his hand over his briefcase as he considers it. His eyes meet yours and his cheek dimples, “alright, yeah, that’s… that’s perfect. Thank you.”

“No problem,” you beam back at him, “let me just get some tissue paper…”

You murmur to yourself as you grab some gold tissue paper and a white gift bag with a Christmas tree embossed into the side. You carefully line up the small box on the paper and begin your intensive work. You're a master wrapper, you used to work at the wrapping station in the mall.

“What about you?” He asks before the silence can stretch too far, “you seeing family for the holidays? When you’re not working?”

“Um,” you smile as you look up, “I’m just hanging out with my dog. I bought him a bone.”

“A dog,” he nods, “your family live out of town?”

Usually, you ask the questions. It’s easier that way. It deflects the attention from you. It’s why you like the job; you can hear all about others and not have to think about yourself.

“Yeah, something like that,” you slip the wrapped box into the bag and fluff the tissue paper.

“Eh!” The loud exclamation makes you jump as the man merely turns his head, a tic in his jaw. His eyes narrow as another customer approaches, strutting with hands in his jacket pocket as he calls out, “Barber, what the hell?”

Your customer shifts towards the man, heels squeaking on the floor, “Hugh.”

“Don’t Hugh me, asshole,” the other man retorts, “you said you were busy? What’s the matter, you lose too much money last time?”

“Suzette is in town. Family dinner,” the man, Barber, drones dully.

“Ah, ditched for the old crone, I get it.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, wouldn’t you know it, poker night was canceled, something about not enough seats,” the man counters sharply.

“Next week,” the first man growls.

“Hey, you,” the man in the russet coat snaps his fingers in your direction, “you got some of that Acqua di Gio. That dumb girl over there said you’re sold out.”

Your brows pop up and you swallow tightly. He’s another type. The arrogant demander. He doesn’t hear no. He’ll ask everyone the same question in hope of getting a different answer.

“We are out of stock, sir, but I could order it in for you,” you suggest.

“Order in? I can just go on Amazon, thanks for nothing,” he chops his hand at you dismissively.

“Hey,” the other man nudges his chest, “be nice. She’s working.”

“What? I’m here to spend money and they got shit all–”

“It’s December,” the other man reproaches before he turns back to you, “sorry, my friend is a jerk.” He accepts the gift bag as you hold it out, “thank you. You saved me.”

“No problem, but er, I was gonna say,” you turn to the other man, “sir, I have some samples of the Armani. I could give you those while you wait for the order.”

“Samples?” He echoes, “how many?”

“Let me have a look,” you back up and go to the drawer at the back of the checkout.

“I gotta get going, miss,” the first man waves his hand as you peek over your shoulder, “have a happy holiday.”

“You too,” you chirp back and find the last few tubes of Armani. You claim them and prance back to meet the new customer at the counter, “I have five.” You lay out your wares, “if I order in a bottle it’ll be in just before Christmas.”

“Two weeks?” He puffs.

“I’m sorry, sir, that’s the earliest I can do. It’s the last day I can guarantee delivery before Christmas.”

“Talk, talk, talk, order it,” he snaps.

“Right, let me just…” you open the shop and search up the scent. You add it to the cart and proceed. “Alright, got that, did you want it shipped for pick up here or to your address.”

“Here, they can never fucking find my house,” he sniffs.

“Great, so when it arrives, we’ll give you a call. You’ll also get an email to confirm.”

“What’s going on here?” He points at you suddenly. You look down again at your sweater but don’t see anything amiss. You flinch as he reaches to pinch one of the pearls, “what is this?”

“Oh, I… my sweater,” you raise your head, swallowing down the insult. It’s cute!

“Huh, Walmart clearance, huh,” he scoffs, “alright, how much are you robbing me for?”

He reaches into his coat as you hit total. You read out the final amount but he doesn’t pull out a card; he hands you cash. You count the bills, twice over, then give him his change. He looms with impatient huffs.

“Here’s your receipt,” you hand him the strip of paper. “Have a good day, sir.”

“Mmm,” he pokes his tongue into his cheek as he shoves the receipt into his pocket, “actually, while I’m here, I’d like a new sweater. You can help me and I’ll show you what real quality is.”

You almost laugh. Not spitefully, it’s just a bit silly. He’s competing with you, a perfume pusher.

“Well, sir, I can point you towards men’s fashion but I’m not able to leave this department, I’m sorry,” you give a sheepish smile.

“Oh no, good girl wouldn’t want to break the rules,” he rolls his eyes, “goody goody and her precious little smile.” He hooks his thumbs in his pockets, “my shit better be in by Christmas.”

He twists and strides away. You watch him go but not for long as you’re quickly distracted by a customer looking at the Britney Spears collection. Those are easy sellers.

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nicestgirlonline · 1 year ago

Text

Let Me Hear You Scream

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT AHEAD! 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI! language, threatening situations, DUB CON, horror elements

Word count: 3.8k

Summary: It’s the 90s so you actually answer the phone when you’re watching movies

a/n: Happy Halloween yall!!!! Still working on other projects but really wanted to get something out for Halloween! This was for @witchywithwhiskey’s Horror Movie Hoe-a-thon! the prompts I picked were Scream and “I’m your boyfriend now” Hope you all enjoy!!!! Thanks for reading, I’d love your feedback! Reblogs and comments are love <3

1993. A sleepy suburban town, where nothing exciting ever happens. Friday night.

Your friends were all going out to Wanda’s party, but you were stuck housesitting for your aunt. Your mom had promised you would house sit weeks ago, so you couldn’t get off the hook. It was a big empty house, more rooms than your aunt could ever need. Most were filled up with storage and dust bunnies.

You tried to make the best of the boring night-in. You rented some Meg Ryan movies with plans to completely veg out. You ordered an extra large pizza with all of your favorite toppings and raided your aunts pantry for snacks.

You glanced down at your shirt and saw red. Pizza sauce! Blooming red circle right in the center of your cream sweater. You let out a huff of frustration. Some Friday night.

You changed into comfy nightwear--a baby blue cotton gown that brushed the very top of your knees, along with a pair of fluffy bunny slippers for good measure. You settled back down in front of the TV.

RING. RING. RING.

You picked up the phone, squeezing it between your ear and shoulder as you carried your snacks over to the kitchen.

“Hello,” you used your best fake customer service voice. Your aunt had asked you to take down any messages. She must have a new boyfriend she was hoping would call. You wait for a response but all you can hear is low breaths through the receiver. “Hello?” You try again

“Is this Sidney?” The voice was weirdly distorted and hard to place. It was deep, clearly a man’s voice.

“Sorry, wrong number dude.” You hung up before he could let another word out. You set the phone down by the cradle and go back to making your snacks. You got out the big popcorn bowl.

The phone rang out again. “Hello?” You answered. You really hadn’t expected to be fielding this many phone calls.

“Hey. Did I call you earlier?” It was the same strange voice. You blew some air through your lips, how annoying.

“Sidney’s not here. Have a good night--”

“Aw man. She must have given me a fake number. I don’t mean to bother you over and over tonight.” He sighed, sounding very apologetic.

“No worries. Have a good night.”

“Wait, wait. I like the sound of your voice.”

You paused. Was it totally weird to just chat with this guy? Yeah. But what harm could it be? You felt a bit of a flutter in your stomach. You never had talked to a stranger over the phone like this. It felt clandestine! You decided to go with it.

“Better than Sidney’s?” You asked, trying to make your voice sound as flirty as possible. You heard him hum approval.

“Much better than…let’s not talk about her. What are you doing tonight?” There was something very familiar about his voice. There was a crackle and static that made it so you couldn’t quite make it out. It must be a shitty connection.

“I was having a movie night. I’m making some snacks right now.” You started to curl the phone cord around your finger.

“What are you watching, Pumpkin? Something scary?”

“No way. I hate scary movies.”

“Especially not when you’re alone right?”

“Uh - um - I’m not alone. Actually.” You lied. How did he know you were alone? Was he just guessing?

“Scary movies are always scarier when you’re all alone, in a big empty house, that’s in the middle of nowhere,” he continued.

A shiver went down your spine. That was a bit too accurate. But there's no way he could possibly know where you were. It was a phone call!

“I just don’t like them. It's either some creepy slasher stabbing some big boobed blonde through her white t-shirt or a ghost that's a metaphor for trauma. No thank you,” you sighed.

“I think you’re being a little hard on them. Maybe if you watched them with a guy to cling to you’d like them more. Do you have a boyfriend?”

There it was. Obviously the alone comment was him trying to set the mood.

“Why do you want to know? Already over Sidney?” You teased him.

“Answer the question.” He was very serious. You didn’t like the tone he had.

“Yes, I do. Are you going to hang up?” You lied again, trying to call his bluff.

“You don’t have a boyfriend. What are you wearing? Something cute and virginal? What about your underwear?” You pulled the phone away from your ear in shock. You were officially too skeeved out. This wasn’t some poor guy who got slipped a fake number. He was a weirdo!

“Ok perv, I’m over this. Bye.”

“I wouldn’t hang up Y/N.” His voice was suddenly hostile. He spat each syllable out filled with hatred. Your blood ran cold. Your heart started to race. How would he possibly know your name?

“Is this a prank? Not very funny. Is this you Tony?” Your voice shook with fear.

“Who’s Tony? That your boyfriend?” He snarled.

“This is a really bad joke. Did someone put you up to this? Scott? Knock it off now!”

“Jesus you’ve got a lot of men in your life. Are you trying to make me jealous or something? I don’t like sharing.”

“I’m serious, this is a bad joke, so just give it up already.” You cried out, you looked around, making sure you were still totally alone.

“I don’t give up so easily. Do you, Pumpkin? Do you give it up to any guy who looks in your direction? I bet you do, you slut. That's why you're talking to a guy you don’t know while you’re all alone.”

“I’m hanging up, I already told you I’m not alone. My boyfriend is here! He’s big and he plays football. S-so don’t call back ok?” You tried to sound as forceful as possible but your lips wobbled and you tripped over your words.

“Pumpkin, you’re lying to me. You’re all alone in that big house in the middle of nowhere, wearing that skanky nightgown. I can see your nipples poking through this whole time. You’re so turned on by a psycho on the phone, huh?”

You let out a scream. You slammed the phone down, hanging it up. You started to spin a circle looking at all the windows, trying to see if you could see somebody watching you. You ran to the front door to make sure they were locked. You went window by window locking them and shutting the curtains. You took a chair from the kitchen and dragged it in front of the door, jamming it beneath the door knob.

RING RING RING RING

You looked around, trying to remember where all of the doors were in the house. You spun around running to the kitchen entrance. You double checked the lock and put the chain on the door. You slid down the door with your back pressing against it trying to catch your breath.

This wasn’t real. This had to be some fucked up prank. The guys were all too hyped up for Halloween and wanted to get a scare out of you. The ringing stopped and you heard the voicemail click, your aunt's outgoing message began to play.

“You screening your calls, skank? You’re gonna die, you little whore! I’m gonna see what your insides look like --” You picked up the phone just to end the message and slammed it back down. As you scampered away it fell down, swinging from the cord. You take off up the stairs, stumbling up the stairs.

You dash into the guest room you had been staying in. You quickly locked the door. Your hands were shaking still. How was this happening?

The window started to jiggle. You could hear the groaning old wood start to slide. With nothing better to arm yourself with you grabbed a pillow and started to wildly smack the intruder with all you could.

“Whoa whoa whoa, it’s me -- it’s me!” Bucky Barnes, your classmate, was gripping the window sill, flabbergasted from the pillow. You hadn’t even had time to register who it was before you attacked.

“Bucky? What the fuck are you doing here?” You demanded. This proved to you it had to be some kind of a prank. Why else would Bucky Barnes, the moody guy from your film class be climbing up to your room.

“Well, when you said you were busy tonight I thought I could just surprise you? Like a grand romantic gesture or something? Can you um, let me in? It's actually kind of cold.” He was shivering out there. He looked so earnest it tugged on your heart just a bit.

You motioned for him to come in. He heaved his body up, awkwardly crawling through the tight window then falling to the ground. He sprang back up quickly, smiling at you.

“Is this a prank? Are you in on this with the other guys or something?” You crossed your arms.

“Um, other guys? Are there other guys here? I thought I was being original.” He peered around you as if to look for them. You rolled your eyes.

“The phone calls Bucky. I’m not joking around.”

“What phone calls? I’ve been driving all night to get here from campus, then shimmying up some ivy. Haven’t exactly had any time to stop at a payphone. You know what. This was a bad idea, I can see that, I’ll just leave.” He sheepishly put his hands in his pockets as he crouched down to leave the way he came.

“No, no wait!” You grabbed him, keeping him from going outside. If it wasn’t Bucky then there was still a psycho out there! “I don’t know what's going on, but this weird guy kept calling me, and he was watching me! Like I think he was outside the house or something.”

“Calm down, calm down. I was just outside. There's nobody out there. It was probably just a prank call.”

He started to rub your back with slow soothing circles. It was intimate in a way you weren’t used to from Bucky. He was the quiet one, never really hung out unless Steve was around. His palm pressed into your lower back, holding you closer to him. His other hand cupped the back of your head, guiding you into the crook of his neck.

“You’re getting so worked up. Maybe you should just lie down.” He shushed you as you tried desperately to explain it wasn’t a prank call. He guided the two of you down to the bed. He laid down next to you.

“Bucky…why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you, I thought you knew…isn’t it obvious how I feel about you?”

Your head was spinning. Bucky liked you? He barely even talked to you! When he casually asked if you were going to Wanda’s party you assumed it was just small talk. He had grunted and left the second you told him you were busy.

“I think I should call the cops about this--”

“I’m here aren’t I? I’ll keep you safe.” His lips connected with yours silencing you from responding. His kiss was eager, but still so gentle. He slowly moved his lips against yours, basking in the taste of you. He took his time and slowly you could feel his tongue ghosts against your bottom lip, looking for entrance.

Maybe it was the adrenaline, the shock, or maybe Bucky was just an extremely good kisser, but you quickly fell under the spell of the kiss. You let yourself get lost kissing him, trying to forget the phone call prankster that had been terrorizing you.

Fear was still racking through your body, but Bucky felt safe. You tangled your hands in his hair bringing him closer. His hand slowly traced up and down your leg. Both his hands grasped your legs, essentially pinning you down. You felt a cool air waft over your thighs as his fingers gently crept beneath your nightgown.

He cupped you over your underwear, grabbing the elastic and letting it snap back against your skin. You finally broke free of the kiss to gasp. He sat back on his ankles, his hand still toying with your panties.

“Bucky, I--”

“Shhh it's ok. I’m here to save the day. No one's gonna hurt you while I’m around.” He pushed aside your panties and started to slowly circle your clit. You whined as he circles you again and again, the pleasure rushing through you and pushing every thought of terror out of your brain.

He pressed his thumb against your clit and dipped his fingers inside of you. He curled his fingers, dragging more moans out of you. As he fucked you with his fingers, you tilted your hips up for more delicious friction.

“That's it my brave girl, Bucky’s here for you,” he murmured above you. He spoke with such hard conviction. His eyes were intensely boring into yours, nearly unblinking. He was no longer softly in the throws of passion. He was a man on a mission.

He kept pumping his fingers, he brought his other hand up from your leg to palm himself through his jeans. He groaned as he adjusted himself and went back to work on you. His other hand circling around your inner thigh, moving your leg up to his shoulder.

“Bucky, please, please,” you babbled as the pleasure began to mount and mount. It was nearly unbearable as you chased your release, grinding your hips up and down on his hand, riding his fingers towards that sweet relief.

“Yes, you’re doing so well, you’re perfect.” He brought his lips to your neck and began to suck at your sensitive spot. You let out a cry of pleasure as your climax flowed over you. You clamped your legs together, biting down on your lip as another cry came out.

You took a moment to catch your breath, Bucky was still nibbling on your neck. You grabbed his face and brought his lips back to yours. He eagerly responded, his lips enveloping yours.

You grabbed the underwear that you were still wearing and rolled it down your body to fling them off. You sat up and grabbed at Bucky until you found his belt. You fumbled, trying to unbuckle it. Bucky's hands quickly found yours and he brought them together, kissing both your palms. He unbuckled the belt on his own. Removing it without ceremony or flourish. He then yanked his jeans and underwear down.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.

“I want you so badly, Bucky,” you moaned.

He let out a strangled gasp that turned to laughter. You tilted your head at the reaction. He didn’t sound exactly happy, it was more sinister.

“I just have waited so long to hear you say that to me. I’m so happy right now,” he nearly giggled. He giddily took off his jacket, tossing it to the ground.

“Keep me distracted Bucky, ok?” You asked as you hitch your nightgown up to your waist.

“Oh yes, anything for you, Pumpkin.” He had a devilish smirk on his face as he pressed his lips to your navel, slowly kissing his way up. He grabbed your nightgown and finished taking it off. Tossed it to the side with the pile of his clothes.

He made his way up your abdomen before groping your chest with a satisfied hiss. He squeezed you roughly, making you squeak. He latched his lips onto your breast. You let out a gasp as he lightly bit down. He tended thoroughly to each breast, his wicked tongue teasing at your pebbled nipples until you were a moaning puddle.

He grasped his cock, stroking it a few times before guiding it to your folds. He brushed the head of his cock up and down your cunt, teasing it out. He pressed his forehead against yours.

“You really mean it, right? You want me?” he asked desperately.

“Yes --” Before another word could escape your lips, he entered you. His whole body shivered. He thrust the tip of his head in, easing in and out until he was fully sheathed inside of you. You moaned as the stretch burned in pleasure and pain.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he moaned, the pace he had set was blistering. You gripped his shoulders to keep yourself anchored as he hammered into you. “You’re so tight, so tight fuuuck me.”

He thrust over and over, using the heel of his hand to keep working at your clit. You scratched your hands down his back as his pumps kept hitting the perfect spot. It was torturous pleasure as he kept working up and down your clit, not giving you a moment of respite.

You came again, your body seizing up as you cried out and then falling limp, boneless back down to the bed. Bucky grabbed your hips, pulling your lower body off the bed as he raced for his own release. The slapping sounds of your bodies filled the room along with his deep, gutural breaths.

“Yes, yes, you’re mine, you’re mine, I finally have you, finally, finally…” he babbled as he slowed his pace as he fucked out his climax.

XXX

You curled next to Bucky in the big fluffy guest bed. Both of you were happily satisfied. All thoughts of strangers on the phone were gone from your head. Now it was filled with what just happened.

Hooking up with Bucky? You’d never considered it before. You weren’t sure why, he was so very cute, you thought as you gazed at his face. His eyes were dreamily staring back at you, that big smile had not left his face yet.

“So if you want to like, hang out, I have snacks and movies. We can go curl up on the couch and just completely let our brains rot.” You traced tiny circles on his chest, feeling pretty confident he’d want to stick around.

“I’d be down for a little romcom night, as long as you’re there.” He affectionately tapped your nose.

“Good because that's all I’ve got!”

The two of you got back into a semblance of your outfits, you pulled your nightgown back on, and Bucky pulled on his boxers and the white undershirt he was wearing. You snagged his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. He hummed his approval and kissed you on the cheek.

You grabbed him by the hand and pulled him along down the stairs.

“You can go grab the popcorn, I’ll put the tapes in.” You directed Bucky towards the kitchen as you made your way towards the living room.

You pass the chairs jammed in front of the doors, and you remember your panic.

You shuddered--what a mean prank to pull. What kind of psycho talks to people like that?

You slipped your arms into Bucky's jacket to wrap yourself in it. It smelled sharp and sweet from his body wash and cologne blending together. You stuck your hands in the pockets, only to feel something heavy and tube shaped. You pulled it out, curious, turning it over in your hands a few times to investigate.

It was a long cylindrical looking microphone. You assumed it was some sort of film equipment, but why would Bucky bring that along?

“Hello?” You spoke into the mic. But instead of your own voice, the same distorted, crackling voice from the phone came out.

You dropped it. It was like a hot iron in your hand.

You realized Bucky must have heard you too. Your head snapped towards the kitchen. He was walking slowly towards you, a huge chef’s knife from the kitchen was now in his hands.

“Bucky what the hell is this?” You asked, slowly backing away from him.

“I…can explain.” His grip on the knife tightened and he raised his hands in the air as if in surender, never slowing his pace towards you.

“No, I think you need to leave.” You covered your body with your arms, trying not to trip over the furniture.

“No, no, no you’re misunderstanding --” He was getting closer to you, he reached his arms out to try and grab you.

“Leave me alone!” You screamed out as you broke into a run. You made a mad dash to the front door. Bucky was close behind you.

“I’m not going to hurt you!” He cried out as you fumbled with all the locks. Your hands were shaking, you tried to remove the chain from the door but it wasn’t moving fast enough.

Bucky's arm wrapped around your waist and yanked your body into his. His hard bulge poked at your ass.

“No!!” you cried out as you started to thrash around. You quickly stilled as the sharp point of the knife began to dig into your throat.

“Let’s calm down ok. I think you’re getting too worked up again.”

“B-Bucky, just say that it’s a prank. This was all a big prank. I won’t tell anyone. Just put the knife down please.” You try desperately to reason with him. He lets out an unamused grunt.

He began to drag you away from the door. You strained your neck as far as you could to keep the pressure from the knife as minimal as possible.

“You weren’t supposed to find out. Now it’s all ruined. Fuck. Fuuuck!” He growled. Clearly enraged he started to grapple you down to the floor.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You whimpered, tears oozing from the corners of your eyes. Rolling down your cheeks in huge streaks.

“You don’t get it. You never noticed me. All I wanted was for you to notice me. I just had to grease the wheels a little bit, put on a show to make you see…that I’m the guy for you.” He looked crazed. He moved the knife from your neck to your cheek. He caressed it against your cheeks like a lover's hand.

“Bucky please…put down the knife.”

“You’re misunderstanding me, you’re trying to run away! That’s why I have the knife because you need to listen to me. You always listen to the guy with the biggest tool in the room huh? You thought I was Tony. Does he call you up at night a lot or something? Huh?!”

You were just whimpering as he ranted above you. The blunt side of the knife was pressed against your cheek, the shiny metal reflecting into your eyes.

“Well you don’t have to worry about him anymore.” The look in Bucky’s eyes was primal, like he was no longer a man. The charming smile from before was now warped and too large, his lips curling to show his teeth and gums.

“You’re scaring me. Please don’t hurt me!”

“Hurt you? I would never.” He said, not moving the knife from your face. “I’m your boyfriend now. And I’m not going to let anything happen to you again.”

He brought the knife down from your cheek slowly, the sharp tip dragging down your neck. He began to slice the top button off your nightgown.

“Now, you made such beautiful noises for me before. Let me hear you scream, Pumpkin.”

#horrormoviehoeathon #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #scream au #dark!bucky #dark!bucky x reader #yandere bucky barnes #let me hear you scream #halloween fics #witchywithwhiskey #one shot #marvel fanfiction #buck barnes fanfic #ghostface bucky barnes #banner by cafekitsune

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mommybard · 7 days ago

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Happy Halloween~

TW: Identity Erasure a bit, gaslighting, kinda drugging adjacent, bit of breathplay mentioned at the end. As always if these are triggering for you, please avoid <3 Oh sweet dear, you can’t trick or treat in that. You’ll freeze to death with this chill in the air! Why don’t you come in and warm up? I have some treats I made you can help yourself to.

There we go. Isn’t that better? Go on, drink up. I have plenty more tea where that comes from.

I’ll admit, I’m kind of surprised you came up this way. Most people avoid this old house, with all the rumors. About it being haunted. About it being cursed. About the ‘spooky witch’ who lives here. Don’t act so surprised, I know what they say. But really, do I seem like a witch to you?

Of course not. Afterall, if I was a mean ol’ witch, wouldn’t you expect me to chase you off while shouting about cursing you? Give you the evil eye while pointing a finger menacingly at you. Or just start throwing potions or whatever's in my cauldron brewing in your direction.

I would never do any of that, don’t you worry none. No, if I was a witch I’d invite you in to warm up. Get you a nice hot drink. Feed you some snacks. Let you relax and feel comfortable…not even realizing that I slipped a curse into your tea.

But of course that’s not happening right now. You’re not feeling a tingling sensation in your lips. Feeling your thoughts slipping out of your head like sand falling between your fingers. Definitely not finding it harder to think. To remember why you came here. To remember who you are.

Go, take another sip. Doesn’t that taste good? And that feeling. Nothing really like it is there? Having something warm pressed against your lips. Feeling flavors dance on your tongue. That sensation of the hot liquid pouring down your throat and filling you with that heat.

Now, about that spell you wanted me to cast. Hmm? Poor thing, you don’t remember. See, you came up to visit me again, wanting something special. Life can be difficult. Hard. Stressful. Lots of big brain thinking out there. And you…well, sweetie, you’re a bit of an airhead. I swear half the time there’s nothing between your ears except maybe some bubbles.

You were very specific. You wanted something to help you relax. Unwind. Not have to deal with all that nonsense out there. And, well, who am I to turn you down? Hmm? A curse? No no, I’d never do that. You can trust me. Why don’t you take another sip and I’ll help you remember.

So I made a very special one, just for you. Something to take advantage of your oral fixation. Oh now don’t blush like that. You can be open with me. I know all about it darling. Don’t you remember? You told me all about it. All the times you accidentally caught yourself daydreaming about sucking someone off and drooled all over your top. The moments when you’d catch sight of someone’s camel toe or girl bulge and have to rush to the bathroom to touch yourself thinking about servicing them. The hours spent edging yourself stupid as you let a machine fuck your throat relentlessly as you dreamed of working up the courage to handle a gloryhole.

There there sweetie. That warmth in your head is just the memories coming back to you, that’s all. They might have to push out some of those weird thoughts you had about me cursing you, but really that’s for the best, don’t you think?

With your fixation…no. Not strong enough. Obsession? Yes, with your obsession in mind, I made a very special spell for you. To enhance your lips. Your tongue. Give your taste buds a boost. Although it does have some side effects. Your toys and fantasies just won’t be enough to satisfy you I’m afraid. You can certainly try, but you’ll end up playing with yourself for hours unable to cum. You’ll have to get more from another person.

So, I suppose, if you really wanted to, you could leave. Go back out there and have to deal with all that scary big brain stuff. Have to worry about people taking advantage of your new sensitivities. Pulling you into bathrooms and making the suck slut drain their balls. Sneaking you under the desk and making you eat them out over and over again until you can’t get the taste of fresh pussy off your tongue. Humiliating you in public by letting everyone see how drooly you get just from them finger fucking your mouth.

Or, you could stay here I suppose. I could use a good little cum hungry oral toy to help me out around the house. A good pet who’s throat I can core out and reshape to fit me. Trained to take down every last drop and beg for more. An oral addict who can only get off when they’re on the cusp of passing out because they value my cock more than their ability to breathe. Don’t you think that’s a good idea~?

#nsft post

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lipstickmarks · 8 months ago

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Steven to the Rescue

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader Category: Hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff Warnings: none Content: Hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff, kissing, making out in public, reader has a terrible horrible no good very bad week and steven is there for her, Steven’s love languages are acts of service and physical touch, reader getting princess treatment, reader is kinda corporate girlie coded, steven being smooth, steven can cook, steven might be slightly ooc bc he is my silly putty and i am bending him to my will

Steven loved his job. He loved going into work everyday to consume any and all things related to egyptology. It’s what makes him able to withstand the abuse from Donna– which is lessened now that he’s been promoted to tour guide and she technically isn’t his supervisor anymore. But today, he simply does not want to go.

He’s been watching you pace around his kitchen nervously for the past five minutes, checking your phone, watch, and laptop in quick succession. It had been… a less than stellar week for you.

Firstly, your job has been stressing you out by offloading duties onto you that weren’t in your job description because someone else had quit unexpectedly. Then, there was an error with your bank and your paycheck wasn’t deposited so you had to wait an extra 3 days to pay your bills. On top of it all, your phone service provider was having some sort of nationwide glitch so you barely had any service.

Not only did you have twice the workload but you weren’t getting any of your work emails on time. Plus, you had to be in constant contact with the bank to sort out their issue. It’s why you’d come over to Steven’s flat before work, to use his internet and hopefully get a better signal. Plus, you two wanted to see each other.

Steven had made some cranberry muffins and vegan egg bites for the two of you but your plate remained untouched while you paced around, waiting for a bar.

“Love,” Steven murmured, reaching out to grab your elbow. You looked up from the laptop you were cradling in your arms and Steven nearly sighed out loud at the sight of your eyes. Beautiful, but so so tired. The universe has been running his favorite person ragged and it hurt him to see you so downtrodden by life. “You really should eat something before work.”

You sighed and sat down your devices, trading them for a muffin. Steven cracked a smile at how your demeanor visibly changed once you took a bite. You always swore Steven put some kind of happy elixir into his food because it never failed to bring your spirits up. You gobbled up one muffin and reached for another.

“Thank you for breakfast.”

Steven leaned over and kissed the side of your forehead.

“You’re welcome, darling. Hate to see you so out of sorts.”

With you finally eating, Steven finished getting dressed. He had to go into work earlier than you did so he let you stay and finish doing what you needed to do. Before he left, he wrapped his arms around you and gave you a soft kiss.

“I’m off then, darling. You’ll be okay here?”

You gave him a reassuring nod as you swallowed a bite.

“Yeah, I’m gonna finish up in a little bit. I have a feeling today is going to be better.”

Steven beamed at you. He kissed you once, twice, three times and he knew if we went for a fourth, he’d cave and stay home with you.

“Right, I’d better get going before I lose my job again.” But Steven made no move to leave. He was staring at you with that dreamy look, the one that had been perpetually fixed on his face ever since you two started dating two months ago. Steven was the perfect boyfriend. Gentle, thoughtful, and he adored you so much.

“Go,” You told him. “I’ll be fine, really.”

Steven gave you one last squeeze before walking out the door.

—----------

Steven was finishing up a tour with a school field trip and he was buzzing from how well it went. Usually, preteens were their own unique breed of nasty– making inappropriate noises, laughing obnoxiously, and just generally being awful but a boy and girl had been asking tons of insightful questions, spurring Steven on and letting him flex his breadth of knowledge. And if there was any snark, the teacher shut it down expeditiously so Steven could continue.

It was probably the best tour he’d given since he started working there.

Plus, earlier in the morning, the curator had pulled him aside and said they were looking for someone to give virtual tours that they could record and post online. If he got it, it would mean a pay bump and more benefits.

Things were finally going his way!

The group was just starting to shuffle off for lunch when Steven spotted you, standing off to the side of the museum entrance. His whole face broke out into a grin and his heart skipped a beat, but that elation faded when he saw your eyes.

You had been crying.

As soon as everyone was gone, Steven crossed the room to you. You both reached for each other. His hands fell to your hips and you clutched his bicep.

“Love, what’s happened?”

You tried to smile but your eyes were bloodshot and puffy. You were holding back tears and you looked like you were on the precipice of a complete breakdown. Like if someone pricked you with a sewing needle, you’d pop.

When you spoke, it came out small and broken.

“I tried to call you but my phone—” Your voice died on the word and Steven’s grip tightened around you.

“Darling?”

“I came to ask for a favor. My apartment… they called me while I was at work. A pipe burst.” Your lip quivered. “All my stuff is ruined.”

Steven’s eyes widened.

“No.”

You nodded, fat tears spilling down your cheeks.

“They said it’s gonna take three weeks to fix it.” You started wringing your hands nervously and took a steadying breath before you spoke again. “I was hoping I could stay with you.”

Steven’s answer is an immediate yes.

“Absolutely, love. Anything you need.”

He couldn’t stand it anymore and he pulled you into a tight hug. Your head fell lamely against his chest and he felt your tears soaking through his shirt but he didn’t mind. Not one bit. You peered up at him, face hot and flushed with tears.

“You’re sure it won’t be a problem? We haven’t been dating that long and I don’t want it to be…” You floundered, searching for the right word but Steven knew exactly what you meant. He caught your hand with his and brought it up to kiss the back of it.

“It won’t be. It'll be like a slumber party, yeah? We’ll bake cookies and watch films. It’ll be fun.”

You nodded but Steven could tell you weren’t convinced. After the week you’d been having, what reason did you have to believe anything else was going to go right for you? You looked like you were a single moment away from shattering entirely.

“Do you want to leave now? I can take the rest of the day off. I can find someone to cover my afternoon tours.”

You shook your head and wiped your eyes.

“No. No, I have to go back to work. We have an important meeting.” You sniffed. Steven’s heart broke seeing you like this. You just looked so defeated.

Steven thought hard for a moment. How could he make this better for you? How could he lighten your load?

“How about this? I’ll pick you up after work. We’ll stop by your flat and get anything we need and then we’ll go back to mine, hm?” He brushed the falling hair out of your eyes. “We’ll get a takeaway, watch your favorite show, I’ll even let you braid my hair if you like.”

You chuckled a bit.

“Can we get dessert?”

Steven kissed your forehead.

“Anything you want, love.”

You nodded and a genuine smile returned to your face.

“Alright, well I better get back. I’m on my lunch break and it’s gonna take me 15 minutes to get back across town.”

Steven stopped you before you could leave.

“Darling, have you eaten lunch?”

You looked sheepish when you shook your head. Steven wouldn’t be having that. Wordlessly, he laced your fingertips with his and lead you down to the employee lockers. He opened up his where the only contents were a book of Egyptology, his spare glasses, a Tawaret funko pop, his lunch box, and a picture of you taped to the inside.

He pulled out his lunchbox and placed it in your arms.

“Steven, no.” You gasped. “I can’t take your lunch.”

You took his lunch.

No matter how much protesting you did, Steven insisted, waving off your concerns with a promise that he would get something from a food truck at lunch. He hailed a taxi for you before you could argue any further.

“Steven, I don’t have cab fare.” You said with wide eyes as the taxi pulled up. “Remember? My bank–”

He pulled out his own wallet and handed the driver his bank card.

“Can’t have my beautiful girlfriend going across town on public transport. Someone might steal you away from me.”

You flushed. Your stomach was doing happy flips from feeling so taken care of. Steven took his card back from the driver and tucked it away. You were full on crying now as you wrapped your arms around him and weeped into his chest.

“It’s alright, love.” He murmured in your ear.

You pulled back to kiss him. It was eager and much too sloppy to do in broad daylight on the steps of his place of work but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Thank you for going to all this trouble for me.” You mumbled as you pulled away.

“It’s no trouble at all, love.” He opened up the cab food for you and didn’t shut it until you were inside. “I’ll pick you up at your office at the end of the day, okay?”

You nodded and Steven leaned his head through the window to give you one last kiss.

“Last chance to play hooky with me for the rest of the day?”

You giggled and shook your head.

“Tempting, but no. I’ve got to go be a grownup.”

Steven smiled at you and mouthed a silent “okay.” He stepped back onto the curb and once the road was clear, your cab pulled out into the street.

Once Steven was out of view, you opened up his lunchbox. He had a habit of overpacking in case he was stuck on the bus for a while and needed a snack, which came in handry because you were starving. You ate his sandwich, chips, soda, half a bag of grapes, and a cookie.

At a red light, your driver turned back to you.

“Your boyfriend is so sweet!” She swooned.

“You don’t know the half of it.” You giggled. “This is his lunch.”

She gasped.

“Shut up! That is so cute! Oh my gosh, you’re so lucky.”

You grinned.

“Yeah. I am.”

—-----------

The rest of the afternoon went painfully slow for you.Thankfully, you got so busy with work that you temporarily forgot you were broke, without a phone, and temporarily homeless.

When it was finally time to go, you headed toward the front desk, intending to use the landline to call Steven but when you stepped into the hall, he was already there. You had to do a double take at first because you thought you might have been dreaming or seeing things. But no, this was real life.

Steven Grant, your nerdy, sweet, perfect boyfriend was chatting to your office receptionist with a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“I never realized the museum was free! I always thought it cost money, that’s why I haven’t brought my kids.” The receptionist said, embroiled in a conversation with Steven.

“Loads of people think that, actually but yeah it’s free entry. It only costs money for tours. Though, if you’re bringing your little ones, I can’t recommend the tours enough. You get loads of extra information that just reading the pamphlets won’t give you. Not to toot my own horn but I give a pretty educational tour if I do say so myself.” Steven said with a relaxed smile. Ever since he’d been promoted to tour guide, he’s been so much more sure of himself. He’s still the goofy, sweet, bumbling nerd he always has been but the constant exposure to his passion has cushioned him in a cozy little bubble of Egyptology, vegan baking, and you. How could he not feel content?

“I think I’ll take them next weekend.” The receptionist said as you arrived at the desk. “I’d like a tour with you as well.” She looked up from scribbling the museum information on a Post-It note and saw you. “Oh, here you are, darling! Does this sweet man belong to you?”

Just as she asked, Steven held out the bouquet to you. Red roses, pink tulips, white calla lilies, and some hydrangeas to fill it out.

“He does.” Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. You took the bouquet from Steven and smelled the flowers. Steven gently pulled your purse strap off of your shoulder and took his lunch box out of your hands, holding them both and holding his free hand out for you.

“Are you ready, love? The cab’s waiting.”

Do not cry. Do not cry in your place of work. Do not cry because your boyfriend is being so sweet and you’ve never felt this cared for in your life.

To avoid your voice coming out high and squeaky, you nodded and took his outstretched hand. Bidding goodbye to the receptionist, he led you out the doors and into the cab, leading you home.

*****

It feels strange.

You’re not sure why. You’ve spent the night at Steven’s flat before, had dinner, read books, spent all night in his bed, but this felt different.

You were standing in Steven’s bathroom, hair damp from your shower. The second you got back to his flat, you’d made a beeline to the shower, eager to scrub all of your misfortune off. And you felt so strange, so out of place.

It was a little more intimate knowing that you’d be here for three entire weeks, which put a decent amount of pressure on a fairly new relationship. You and Steven would be seeing each other in undesirable states, have to give each other space, and somehow maintain the dynamic of your relationship despite these new circumstances.

You unloaded the grocery bag of toiletries that you picked up from your flat on the way here. Thankfully your hygiene essentials and skincare weren’t damaged. The same couldn’t be said for your clothes, though.

At least it was the weekend and you didn’t have to worry about outfits for work. You could just lounge around in the sweater and boxers Steven had given you, or nothing if you preferred. Steven certainly wouldn’t mind.

“Love?” Steven’s voice came through the bathroom door. “The food just got here. I’ll queue up a movie for us.”

“Alright.” You called out. “Be out in a minute.”

“Take your time, darling.”

What on Earth did you do to deserve that wonderful, wonderful man?

After changing, you stepped out into the living room where Steven had arranged the takeout boxes, poured you a glass of wine, and queued up “Tangled” on the TV.

“Steven…” You plopped down on the couch next to him. “We could’ve cooked, you didn’t have to order out for me. I don’t want you going to any trouble for me.”

Steven looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes that only love could be the catalyst for. He took your chin between his fingers and angled your face to meet his lips in a sweet, slow kiss.

“Darling, why would it be any trouble to care for you?”

And just like that, as quickly as a match burns out, all of your anxieties and apprehension faded away. You didn’t feel out of place in Steven’s flat or mistreated by the universe. Here, in Steven’s arms, you only felt loved.

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #moon knight #mr. knight #marvel #steven grant x you #oscar isaac #steven grant imagine #steven grant fanfiction

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mcdonaldsnumberone · 1 year ago

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HAPPY!

green flag traits of "red flag" men inspired by @aesterblaster’s cute kaiser snippet <3 gender neutral reader

if you enjoyed reading this fic, please consider donating to providing aid in palestine!

BAROU SHOUEI!

constantly takes care of you!

Barou isn’t exactly well-known for being an agreeable man, but everyone in the Blue Lock program knows how strict he is with maintaining not only himself but the environment around him. He’s a bit rough around the edges, but he cares for you deeply and does what he can to make sure you’re eating your meals properly and making sure your living quarters are taken care of. Even if you invite him over to your place for a casual date, Barou refuses to sit still until all of your laundry is taken care of and he’s cooked up a nice snack for you. You love joking about how he’s essentially like a husband to you, although Barou will simply grumble at you to take better care of yourself, even if the thought does make him blush a little. He doesn’t mind cleaning up after you, especially if it means making you feel more comfortable, but he’ll still give you an earful when he catches you eating cookies on your bed.

“What would you even do without me?” Barou grumbles, scrubbing at the dishes in your sink with a renewed fury. “I swear, I leave for a few weeks to deal with a season, and I come back to you living as if your parents never taught you any manners.”

“I had a handful of dirty dishes in the sink. A handful,” you reply, waiting for your boyfriend to wrap up your chores and join you on the couch. “That I didn’t bother to do because I was getting ready in the morning. And you can leave them where they are, Sho. You don’t have to do my work for me.”

Barou frowns, but he doesn’t let go of the dishes. You always make it very clear that he’s not obligated to do any of your dirty work for you, but despite all the chastising he might do, Barou always insists on doing it anyway. You know it’s his way of showing his love for you—lots of heartfelt acts of service to lift even a little bit of the burden off of your shoulders. Even if you tease him for being a softie that would do anything at your beck and call, you’re awfully grateful to have a boyfriend that doesn’t mind picking up after you every now and then.

He places the last dish onto the drying rack and wipes his hands on a kitchen towel, and you reach towards him as he makes his way to you and sits down on the couch. He takes you into his arms, and you cuddle up against his side, grinning up at him like the Cheshire Cat.

“Thanks for doing my dishes for me. Again.” You sneak a kiss onto his cheek as he hums slightly, his face as austere as ever. He’s secretly enjoying this charade though: you can feel the way his hands tighten against your body and the way he melts ever-so-slightly towards the warmth of your body.

“Don’t get used to it,” he grumbles, knowing all too well that you have gotten too used to his pampering and that he would do it again in a heartbeat. “I’m not your maid.”

“Nope, you aren’t.” You pinch his cheek. “You’re something even better! You’re my boyfriend!”

ITOSHI SAE!

horrendously loyal to you!

Sae quite literally knows nothing about the world outside of his life with soccer, so when he first fell for you, he felt less like the soccer prodigy the world had its eyes on and more like a horribly inadequate boyfriend fumbling around to impress you. You’ve been nothing but understanding, but he feels bad that he has nothing but his utter devotion to offer you. You have no issues with it, and Sae finds more and more creative ways to remind you that he really has no one but you. He never says it directly to your face that he’d rather die than have you leave him, but it’s in the way he refuses to let go of your hand when you’re together or how he sends pictures of any and all wedding boutiques he runs across with a not-so-subtle text saying how it's perfect for the two of you. Sae knows it’s way too early to even entertain the thought of marriage, but how can he not, when he’s convinced that you’re his soulmate?

Sae’s grown to enjoy the quiet things in life. He’s never been too big of a fan of the loudness that came with his successful career. Frankly speaking, he could always do without the invasive interviews, the blinding flashes of paparazzi, the frenzy-mongering journalists twisting his words and actions for more clicks on their content.

Instead he’s found joy in you. There’s the way you make him laugh, your dumb jokes managing to wrench a giggle out of him. It’s the way you urge him to try out the new dessert menu out on a cafe date together, or how you beg him to pleeeeeeease buy a matching set of keychains with his big boy soccer player salary. Sae still has it hanging from his practice bag, and when Aiku found out about it, the captain teased him so badly that the entire team had to hold him back from yanking Aiku’s facial hair out.

Today is nothing special yet it’s Sae’s entire world. You’re fresh out of the shower, skin still a bit moist from the water, and you’re absentmindedly scrolling on your phone next to Sae in bed. Your attention isn’t even on him, distracted by whatever video you’re watching, yet Sae’s heart swells with so much affection that it’s almost suffocating. He wants to tell you he loves you until his voice gives out, but he knows being too brazen will scare you away. Knowing how to act like a normal boy his age has never been his strong suit, so until the day he can arrives, he settles for squeezing your shoulder and craning his neck to see what you’re watching.

“Look, Sae!” You hold up the phone, revealing two cats cuddling on your screen. “It’s literally us! You’re the grumpy looking cat right here!”

He scoffs, but his stomach does a backflip when you giggle, saving the video to your camera roll. Sae knows he doesn’t deserve you, not when you deserve someone much softer and kinder and more gentlemanly rather than the awkward boy he is. But it’s these moments that remind you how much you love him too, and inadequacy be damned, Sae will fight tooth and nail to cherish these shared moments with you.

OLIVER AIKU!

keeps the charm in your relationship!

There’s no denying that Oliver does have a flirtatious streak, and it took a lot of trying on his part to prove his loyalty to you. But as much as you hate to admit it, Oliver is also the kind of boyfriend that knows how to keep the flame in your relationship alive. Underneath the playboy casanova act is a hopeless romantic that loves sweeping you away and showering you with the kind of affection that would leave anyone swooning in their place. He’s the sort of boyfriend that’ll randomly pull you in for a dance while you’re making dinner together in the kitchen or try to serenade you outside your window horribly, only to end up pissing off your neighbors. Even the slow moments are just as entertaining, and Oliver knows how to keep you on your toes. A relationship with him is fun, first and foremost, and he’ll do whatever he can to keep you smiling.

It’s been one of those kinds of days. The ones where everything seems to go against you. Your clothes don’t look good, you keep tripping over your own feet, and nothing at work or school seems to work out for you. You’re down in the dumps and frankly ready to just curl up in bed to rot away for the rest of the day, so finally being able to go back home sounds like the trumpets at the gates of Heaven.

You practically slam your front door open and hurl your bag onto the couch, letting out a loud groan before nearly collapsing into a heap on the floor. You can hear a pair of soft footsteps pad out towards where you are, and you don’t need to look up to know that it’s your boyfriend.

“Woah there, sugar,” his deep voice sounds from above you, “Everything alright? No beautiful smile for me today?”

You shake your head, stifling another groan. “It’s been a long day, Oli. I’d smile at you if I had anything to smile about.”

“You’ve got me to smile for,” Oliver murmurs. It earns him a long glare from you, and he shoots an apologetic smile in surrender. You let your head sink back onto the floor, but Oliver pads over to where his car keys are, grabbing his jacket before heading back to you.

“How about we go for a quick run then? I’ll get you a few treats: McDonald’s, some candy and drinks, all my treat,” he offers. Your ears perk up at the offer, and Oliver grins, seeing you twitch. “I’ll even let you have aux this time so you can play whatever ear-rotting songs you want to listen to. “

“Even CBAT?”

He rolls his eyes when you peel your face off of the floor, looking at him with such sparkling eyes that he wouldn’t have guessed that this was the same person that came home with a storm cloud above their head. “...Fine. Even CBAT, if that’s what’ll cheer my angel up. Quit moping and get back on your feet. I’m not carrying you all the way to the car.”

“Boo,” you pretend to pout, but you eventually pick yourself up. Oliver offers you a hand for you to cling to, and before you know it, your mood is lifted and you’re driving off with your boyfriend off into the sunset.

MICHAEL KAISER!

makes it so clear that he’s obsessed with you!

If there is one word to describe how Kaiser is with you, it’s smitten. It’s hard to believe at first: the New Generation 11 striker, head over heels with a nobody like you? You think you’re dreaming when he first asks you out, but despite your constant doubts, Kaiser follows after you like a puppy that doesn’t know how to do anything better. While he would love to parade you around and make sure everybody knows who his heart belongs to, he takes it easy and lets you call the shots as to how extreme he can be. He’s the first thing you wake up to, always sending you a good morning call, and he’s the one fighting with you for the bill whenever you want something (spoiler alert: he always wins). It’s even in the way he holds your hand like it’s a lifeline; Kaiser’s fallen, and he’s fallen hard. He might be standoffish and selfish, but when it comes to you, he’ll do anything to make sure his feelings are known.

Kaiser crosses his arms, his pointed blue eyes leering down at you. His lips pull into a small frown, and he sighs deeply as if something’s troubling him. “You have honestly got to stop doing that.”

You blink, confused. “Stop doing what? I’m not doing anything.”

You really aren’t. You’re on your way back from the kitchen, having fixed yourself a snack. It’s one of those so-called ‘lazy days,’ where you haven’t bothered changing out of your pajamas or even washing your face for that matter. A horribly unglamorous side to show to your world-famous soccer star boyfriend, but if he had an issue with you being lazy, he should have left you a long time ago.

Kaiser’s cheeks tint into a shade of pink, and he grits his teeth. “Just… all of this! It’s bad for my heart!”

You raise an eyebrow. There’s crust all over your eyes, probably some crumbs around your mouth, and you can’t even start to talk about how disheveled you are. And yet, here you are, with Kaiser about to melt into a puddle of goo despite how awful you must look, and you have to admit, it’s quite the sight.

“Awwww, Mihya,” you tease, raising your voice to a mocking sing-song pitch. “Do you think I’m pretty? Gee, you could have just said so.”

Kaiser flushes an even deeper shade of red, burying his face into his hands. “D-Don’t phrase it like that! All I’m saying is that it’s bad for my heart to see you so casually like this! It feels so domestic, and then my stupid brain starts imagining things like living together, and- and- waking up together, and someday even getting married…”

Marriage? This certainly isn’t the first time it’s come up, and you doubt that it’ll be the last. Not that you mind though. If Kaiser’s in this much of a frenzy seeing you doing nothing, you’re going to take that as proof of how absolutely down horrendous this man is. You simply sidle up to him like the minx you are, poking at his cheeks until he’s yelping and trying to run away from you.

You chase him through the hallways, only catching him when you tackle him to the bed. His eyes are blown wide open, and his face is a brilliant shade of tomato crimson. You lean forward, grinning from ear-to-ear like a cat that’s caught its prey.

“C’mon, don’t get shy on me now. Where’s my insufferable boyfriend now?” You coo. “Pucker up, loverboy, because I’m going in for a kiss!”

if you enjoyed reading this fic, please consider donating to providing aid in palestine!

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #barou shouei #itoshi sae #oliver aiku #michael kaiser #x reader #my writing

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milf-murdock · 6 months ago

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Hi!! I love love love your writing! Especially your 141!Reader series <3 I don't know if you take requests, but your last post about Simon and baby Joseph made me so angsty and I would love to read more angst from you. Could you please write about Simon thinking 141!Reader was KIA on a mission? Thank you!!!

Anon....who....who hurt you???? I’m kidding 😆 mostly 👀 But for real, this one HURT. Like. OUCH. This man has been through so fucking much…but let’s put him through a bit more 😈😈😈 also, I did very much hurt my own feelings with this one. So I’m thinking we might need a part two reunion because I don’t know if I can leave our Ghosty boy in shambles like this

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The rain patters against the window in a steady rhythm.

Simon watches the fat raindrops roll down the small window pane, one foot anxiously tapping against the concrete floor. He didn’t know why he was called to Price’s office, but there was an ominous charge to the air. Call it a premonition, or maybe an instinct, but he knew in his bones that something was wrong.

The click of the door handle pulls Simon from his thoughts as Price enters the office, a heavy silence filling the air.

“What’s happened?” Simon's voice has a hard edge to it, cutting straight through the bullshit. Watchful eyes appraise every detail of Price’s body language, and Simon notes the deep sunken look of his captain’s eyes accentuated by a somber expression.

Price avoids Simon's gaze, staring down at the oak desktop before him as he takes a seat. The captain wasn’t one to mince words or beat around the bush, but even he was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the situation despite his many years in the service.

Simon's heart hammers in his chest, every second in the unknown feeling like an eternity. This isn’t right, he thinks to himself.

Price steels himself with a deep inhale, pulling his gaze from the desk to face Simon head on, looking past the mask, speaking to the man he knew laid beneath.

“I wanted you to hear this from me, son. You…deserve to hear this from me.”

Simon stops breathing.

With practiced determination, Price continues his speech, having rehearsed the words in his head the entire walk down to his office.

“Reconnaissance mission, Operation Blackout, suffered multiple casualties after a long-range detonation by enemy action. There’s been no contact with the team, and rescue attempts were unsuccessful due to the extensive damage caused by the explosion. All team members are presumed KIA. The official course of action…”

The rest of Price’s speech is drowned out by the dull roar in Simon’s ears; his blood runs cold, his rigid body barely breathing.

This can’t be happening. Not again. Never again.

Simon's thoughts grip him by the heart, squeezing painfully.

I can’t do this again.

He had already lost everyone once. Had built impenetrable walls, designed to protect him from this type of pain.

But you. You and your goddamn charm, and your soft smiles, and your relentless fucking attitude. You broke down those walls brick by brick, made Ghost–no, made Simon– feel more like a man than he had in years. You slipped past his ironclad defenses and took his heart without him even realizing it.

And just when he had finally opened up, just when he had finally convinced himself that maybe he could be happy–that you could be happy together. It all came crashing down.

In the distance, Ghost could hear shouting. A chorus of denials piercing the air, heavy ragged breaths filling the silence between.

A heavy hand fell on Ghost's shoulder and he found himself back in his body, looking up at Price, voice raw.

With a stark realization, Ghost realizes it was him. He was the one shouting, the one gasping for breath.

The world tilted out from under him.

____________

Ghost left Price’s office a different man–a mere shell of the man who entered. With every step he took, he felt himself slipping further and further into the familiar safety of Ghost, an unpierceable facade moving through the world.

Everything felt wrong. Every step. Every breath. He felt like he was moving underwater, every action taking twice the effort it should.

The next few hours pass in a blur. The official order that he was being sent on leave. The ensuing argument with Price over the orders. He eventually just gave up. Leave, no leave, it didn’t fucking matter.

None of it fucking matters.

Johnny tries to see him before he leaves, meeting Simon on the tarmac. He tries to be there for his lieutenant, his friend.

The red rim around Johnny’s eyes reminds Simon that he wasn’t the only one who had lost you. They had all lost you. But even that which should have been a comfort, a sort of kinship in the grief, meant nothing. Simon didn’t give a singular fuck. He turned away from Johnny mid-speech, leaving the Scotsman to sit in his grief alone as he watched Ghost disappear into the aircraft.

____________

It takes every ounce of strength Ghost has to make it through the flight. To make it through the drive back home. To make it through that door.

Keep it together, soldier. Don’t you dare fucking lose it, Simon Riley. Just a bit longer.

His belongings crash to the floor as the door slams shut behind him. He doesn’t even bother turning on the light, instead using the faint glow of the moonlight through the curtains to guide him to the cabinet.

Ghost pulls the bottle of bourbon from its resting spot, not even bothering with a glass as he pulls off the corked top and takes a hearty swig.

The burn of the liquid is invigorating, filling Ghost with a quiet simmering fire.

He takes another drink. And another.

He walks through the flat in a daze, the amber liquid dulling his senses, sending him even deeper into the haze of his grief.

Ghost finds himself in front of his dresser, staring at the wooden drawers.

Taking another drink, he steels himself as he yanks open the top drawer. Rummaging beneath the pile of socks and t-shirts, Ghost digs out the small velvet box. He grips it tight in his hand, the small object groaning in protest as waves of rage and pain overtake Ghost, threatening to pull him under. Hot tears slide down his face, but he doesn’t even notice.

With a roar he throws the velvet box across the room, the impact fracturing the drywall. Ghost’s knees go out from under him and he crashes to the floor, his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. There would be no repairing this. No amount of time could heal this type of heartbreak.

You were dead.

And as far as Ghost was concerned, Simon Riley died with you.

#y'all I'm so sorry this one HURT #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley imagine #simon “ghost” riley x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost riley

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yuwuta · 6 months ago

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hi! this might be a bit of a vague ask, but how do you think yuuta is as a partner? like how does he treat his partner, his love language, giving & receiving affection, how a relationship with him would develop, etc. what are his guilty pleasures in a relationship? what are his favourite things to do with a partner? that kind of thing lol. i'm just in love with your yuuta so i was very curious! sorry!

hmm ok well there are basically 3 or 4 yuutas/yuuta aus that live in my head, and then like… some…. ground state version of him that is applicable to most boyfriend aus if that makes any sense 😭 idk how to explain this... but he’s got isomers that all can exist to me and then one normal version that’s just like… the core of who he is. i’m gonna stop talking about that now, but that’s all to say that the specifics of his guilty pleasures and favorite things to with his partner would depend on the au? but generally, he’s a very loyal and intimate person, so that carries through in all his thoughts and actions no matter which au it is

the love language his gives his acts of service. you want something, yuuta will get it for you or do it for you or figure out how to make it for you. he’s a yes man in the sense that he does not know how to say no to you. he’ll say yes before you can even finish detailing what it is you’re asking of him, and it stems from a few reasons.

firstly, yuuta is loyal, almost to a fault, so it doesn’t really matter what he does or who he hurts or undermines if he believes his words/actions are going to keep you safe or please you. his moral compass is skewed in the sense that he goes wherever you go, and it is about the final destination for him and not the journey; he wants to meet you where you are, and he won’t let things get in his way of getting to you.

secondly, while yuuta is very jealous, possessive, and protective where it concerns you, he also has a deep desire for you to feel the same way about him, no matter how extreme or mundane that is. he wants to be the person you ask to do favors for you, he wants you to show him that you know that he’s yours to ask, to take advantage of, to, quite literally, make all your requests come true. also he pouts if you ask someone else, and considers murder if somebody else volunteers in his place.

thirdly, there’s a bit of insecurity at play, too; yuuta puts you on a pedestal, and as such, he concretely believes that he isn’t truly worthy of you. you’re otherworldly to him, and he is just someone lucky enough to get to worship you in such proximity; so, he knows that, given the chance, anybody else would want to do the same thing, and he’ll be damned if he lets somebody else get the chance to take care of you. he knows somebody else could, so he doesn’t ever want to take the chance to let them.

this last reason kind of ties in to all the previous ones, but he also gets off on pleasing you. in the literal, sexual sense, he could cum in his pants just from fingering you or eating you out, or honestly just kissing on the right day. but also, there’s a profound sense of pride and happiness in his chest whenever he does something for you. he’s happy to have made you happy or to have lifted a little burden for you, and he’s proud of himself because he’s proven to himself once again that while he might not be the greatest or strongest or smartest person, he’s more than capable of taking care of the person he loves, and that’s more than enough for him :(( also the words “thank you” coming from you is dirty talk to him he doesn’t even know it but his praise kink goes crazy

in terms of receiving affection, maybe quality time? yuuta could force his own proximity to you if he wanted to (and sometimes, he does), but there’s a certain… joy? relief? reassurance? when you choose to spend time with him or be close to him. it’s a reminder that you want to be with him even half as much as he wants to be with you. he also strikes me as the kind of person to have a bunch of little hobbies and/or to always have some kind of errand to run, so you choosing to tag along with him, or just sit in his room with him while he studies or reads or paints or whatever makes him very happy

#anonymous #oh yuuta.... my baby my baby my baby my baby #think also gifts for his receiving love language? he doesn't get very many so he's grateful for the ones he does #especially from his loved ones and especially from you #bc it says you thought about him and you hear him when he talks about what he likes and thats just so :(( to him.#yuuta x reader #yuta x reader #yuuta.ask

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ladykailitha · 7 months ago

Text

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 16

Just one more chapter left, and in cased you missed it, I won't be doubling up on chapters per day this week. The last chapter will be out next week.

Doubling up really killed the numbers for these stories, half the time people were only reacting and commenting on the SECOND chapter.

But don't worry, what this means is that your favorites you've been seeing snippets of on WIP will get quicker releases this way.

In this Eddie's rut progresses as normal, they talk about Steve's status, and Eddie and Benny learn some very interesting things about golden omegas.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15

****

Eddie came to and was sure that at least a day had passed, but he looked at the clock on Steve’s nightstand and frowned. It had only been five hours since his rut had started. He looked in the wastebasket and there were only three condoms in it which fit the time frame.

He looked around, but Steve wasn’t there. He sat up and the sheet that had been covering his waist slid off. He looked down and saw that his dick was sheathed with another condom.

There was some of Steve’s slick on the sheets, but considering Eddie was still in them, he figured Steve couldn’t change them yet.

He could hear Steve humming to a beat in the kitchen and padded out there.

He smiled fondly as he watched the omega dance around his kitchen to the music in his head. Bopping and hopping as he made a wholesome snack.

“That snack looks good, baby,” he said, his alpha rumbling happily, “but I would rather eat you.”

Steve squeaked. “Eddie! You’re awake! How do you feel?”

For the first time since he woke up, he took stock of his body, really examining it.

“Warm, sated...” he said furrowing his brow, “happy?”

Steve beamed at him. “Yay! That means your rut is progressing as it should. It seems like your body is adjusting better to the low light and you’re more lucid.”

Eddie came up behind him and buried his nose into Steve’s scent gland. “All because of you, sweetness.”

Steve squawked when Eddie picked him and spun him around.

When Eddie finally put him down Steve swatted at him playfully. “You absolute menace.”

Eddie cackled. “Yes, but I’m your menace.”

Steve turned around in his arms and kissed him deeply. Their cocks brushed against each other and he let out a low moan.

“So good...”

Eddie nipped at Steve’s chin. “Let’s get some food in us and then I want something else in you.”

Steve snorted. They ate and hydrated before Eddie picked Steve up bridal style and carried him back to the bedroom.

Eddie could feel himself sliding back into the blind haze of his rut, but the scent of the omega underneath him stirred some distant memory, but it was lost in the next moment when Steve moaned.

The pattern continued like that for the five days. Steve and Eddie taking care of each other while Eddie was lucid, Steve taking care him when he wasn’t.

Eddie had never experienced a rut that had gone so smooth. He understood why alphas paid top dollar for an escort to service their ruts if every one was like this.

He knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend another rut without Steve for as long as he was biologically able to experience ruts.

Each time he became lucid, he would become aware for longer. The last day having two hours before the rut took over him again.

But he used those two hours wisely. He talked to Steve.

“Baby,” Eddie said, from the sofa, “come sit for a bit. You know it won’t hit again for awhile, you might as well relax.”

Steve looked over at him and smiled. He padded over to the sofa and curled up onto Eddie’s lap.

“How are you feeling?” he murmured into Eddie’s neck.

“I’m good,” Eddie replied. “This was worth every penny. I see why it’s so popular.”

Steve chuckled. “I’m glad that it’s available to alphas that can’t afford escorts through clinics.”

“That’s a new thing, though right?” Eddie asked. “I don’t remember seeing them when I first presented.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, nodding. “It’s something that a lot of the major escort houses pushed for in recent years, if all alphas can get the same level of care that the rich do, then it lowers the chances of alphas turning feral from bad ruts.”

Eddie grinned. “It would have happened in the last five years or so, would it? Like say when a particular omega became popular?”

Steve blushed but didn’t deny it. Alpha health was something he had been passionate about for awhile. Helping everyone no matter how much money someone had was just the start of what he wanted to do. Mandating sex education for alphas. It was mandated for omegas and beta, but not alphas, because ‘alphas instinctively knew what to do’ with omegas. Which was bullshit.

“I thought so,” Eddie said.

Steve smiled back. “I’ve even got a non-profit going setting up education booths outside high schools for alphas to get pamphlets and other material about their reproductive health.”

“Ooh, ooh!” Eddie said, nearly vibrating with excitement. “We should throw a gala like the one where we met to get the awareness out there.”

“That’s a great idea, Eds,” Steve said, kissing Eddie’s jaw.

They settled down into a warm silence for awhile just taking in each other’s soothing presence.

Eddie nuzzled Steve ear to wake him. “Hey, you tired, sweetness?”

Steve roused himself and looked up at him bleary eyed. “I guess I am. You see this rough and tumble alpha has been keeping my hole hot and full for the few days. Trying to keep up with him is tiring me out.”

Eddie cackled. “Yeah, if he wears you out so bad, you should blacklist him or something.”

“I would, but I’m in love with his cock so...”

Eddie’s head reared back in mock indignation. “Excuse you!”

Steve laughed. He pressed a kiss to Eddie’s scent gland and the alpha purred. Steve’s omega chirped happily in response.

“I love your scent,” Eddie murmured. “It’s not like other escorts I’ve met.”

Steve looked up at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Chrissy, Elinor, Tommy,” Eddie said. “All smell too sweet. Like fruit rotting on the vine. A terrible but apt metaphor for their condition. But you smell spicy. But in sweet kind of way.”

“I do?” Steve really never thought about his own scent before.

Eddie nodded. “Gareth described it like Mexican hot chocolate. You know the kind that is spiced with peppers?”

Steve nodded back.

“Did you ever think that you might be a golden omega?” Eddie continued.

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Never. Like why would I? I’m not special.”

“That’s highly debatable, sweetheart,” Eddie admonished. “But your scent and everything you’ve told me about your family. It’s very possible you could be.”

“Is that why you wanted to court me?” Steve asked, soft and small. Like a mouse.

Eddie pulled Steve in closer. “No baby, I didn’t figure it out until later. I wanted to court you because you are funny and amazing and everything I’ve ever wanted in a mate.”

He lift Steve’s chin up and kissed him deeply. “Plus, I set up the rut way before I put the pieces together. Everything was set to protect me, but it seems to me that it may end up protecting you, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“As you know, golden omegas can only get pregnant during their heats,” Eddie said. “And since I’m a known scent breaker...”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “You think there is a chance I’ll go into a mini heat, don’t you?”

Eddie nodded. “When I first booked you, it was one of the things Robin was adamant about protecting you from.”

“She’s amazing like that,” Steve murmured.

“She really is,” Eddie cooed. “But it looks like our time is up, honey.”

Steve could feel Eddie’s cock harden under his ass. “Come to bed with me, alpha,” he purred. “Let me take care of you.”

Eddie let Steve pull him to his feet and they walked hand in hand to Steve’s bedroom for the last of Eddie’s rut.

****

When Eddie came to he was not in Steve’s apartment, he was in a smaller hotel room lying on a comfy sofa.

“I’m going to have to burn that sofa after all this,” Robin groused from a nearby armchair. “It will reek of alpha for months if I don’t. I can smell you from here.”

Eddie sat up. He was dressed in soft grey sweatpants and a loose white tank top. No underwear, but then he hadn’t brought any. He ran his fingers through his greasy and sweat slicked hair.

“Fuck,” Eddie grumbled.

“Your manager, Benny sent over a duffel of clothes for you for the next three days.”

Eddie saw the small duffel and snatched it up. “May I please request the use of your shower, milady?”

Robin laughed. “Please do.”

Eddie dashed for the door she pointed to and slammed the door behind him. He stripped his clothes and quickly got under the still cold water. He didn’t want to wait for it to heat up because he felt that gross. His dick was most clean because Steve took the time to wipe him down between condom changes, but he washed it good anyway.

The next thing he focused on was his hair, he had to wash it several times before it felt like it was supposed to. He ran conditioner through the ends of his curls with his fingers, gently massaging it in.

Then he worked on getting the sweat and stink off his body. He hated washing away Steve’s scent, but if he didn’t get clean, Eddie was going to scratch his eyeballs out.

Finally satisfied with how clean he was, he rinsed out his conditioner and stepped out.

He dried off quickly and rummaged through the bag.

Eureka!

Underwear.

Eddie got dressed and then cleaned up his mess, hanging up towels and making sure there wasn’t water everywhere. Uncle Wayne raised him better than to make a mess of someone else’s home.

He opened the door to find Robin and Benny waiting for him.

“Hey, Ben Ten, Birdie,” he greeted, concern dripping from every pore. “What’s happening?”

Benny smiled. “It’s nothing bad. Robin and I were just wrapping up the end of the contract.”

Eddie’s shoulders slumped in relief. He had almost forgotten about the whole thing because he was madly in love with Steve. He sat down on the sofa next to Benny.

“So everything is good?” he asked to be sure.

“Yup!” Robin said brightly. “You are now free to pursue the omega of your dreams.”

Eddie chuckled.

He thought for a moment, licking the bottom of his lip.

“Hey, Robin,” he asked, looking down at his clasped hands, “has an escort ever turned out to be a golden omega?”

Robin and Benny shared a glance.

“You think Steve might be one?” she asked. “Because if he is, that would be fucking hilarious.”

Eddie’s head snapped up.

“His parents have called him useless and a disgrace for being infertile for over a decade,” Robin explained. “To have him be a golden omega who could have been sold for ten to twenty times what he got auctioned for? That would be poetic justice.”

He nodded. “So do you think there’s a chance?”

“Sure,” she said with a half shrug. “The agency doesn’t shout it from the rooftops but yeah, there have been a couple of golden omegas that have come out of Starcourt.”

“How did they find out?” Benny asked, suddenly very interested in where this conversation was going.

“A combination of a couple different ways,” Robin said. “The first is how frequent their heats are. Most golden omegas go into heat more often then regular fertile omegas to make up for the fact they can only get pregnant during their heats.”

Eddie nodded, “And Steve’s are within the normal range?”

She waved her hand back and forth. “Kinda. It’s more times a year than a regular omega, but not outside the possibility if you know what I mean.”

“So say a regular omega has four heats a year and golden omega has eight,” Benny said, “Steve’s heat is somewhere in the middle?”

Robin nodded. “Exactly. The other thing is scent. Which you know Steve’s is unusual. But it’s unusual for an omega full stop.”

Benny and Eddie shared a look of confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Alphas scents are spices, like cinnamon, clove, cardamon, or spicy like peppers, or natural woody scents like pine or cedar,” she explained. “Omegas are fruit and floral scents. Sometimes flavors like chocolate or coffee. That includes golden omegas. Infertile omegas have what is always described as rotted fruit. Super sickly sweet.”

Eddie bit his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth. “But Steve’s is a mix between the two scents?”

Robin nodded again. “Right. The third thing that helps identify a non-tested golden omega is their resistance to scent breakers.”

“Fuck,” Eddie said. “That means he’s not a golden omega. I thought for sure he was. I even told him he was. That he was so special and precious beyond measure.”

She shook her head. “No, Eddie. That’s where you’re wrong. There is a final thing that helps identify if the omega in question is a golden or not.”

Eddie frowned, “What’s that?”

“There’s a reason golden omegas get their choice of any alpha in the country, if not world,” she said fiercely. “And despite what the media likes to paint it as, it’s not just the rich and elite.”

“It’s not?” Benny asked.

Robin shook her head again. “They’re looking for their soulmate.”

It was like someone had scooped out Eddie’s stomach. “Their what?”

“Soulmate,” Robin said. “The person who completes them. Someone who can break through their scent breaking resistance, someone who’s scent compliments their own, someone who when they share their heats and ruts it goes just about as perfectly as two humans can get. And if they meet that person?”

“Oh,” Eddie breathed.

“Oh.”

****

Soulmates! *jazz hands* Yeah, sorry I couldn't help myself.

Part 17

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

@maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv

@wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee

@littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt

@apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @demolvr

@ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @slowandsteddie @r0binscript @alyelf

@melodymeddler @mogami13 @annabanannabeth @disrespectedgoatman @manda-panda-monium

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #omegaverse #rockstar eddie munson

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starb3rrys · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii I'm kinda new to Tumblr so idk how stuff really works here😭 but anyway are your requests open? If so, then I'd like to make a req but if not just ignore this!!

Umm so basically an nsfw oneshot(idk what you call it) or headcanons of how bsd men would react/deal the situation when you two are hiding in a very tight space and your crotches accidentally rub together? RHRHHT it's kinda weird describing it but let's just say [character] pushed you along with him into a locker/box with you sitting on top of his lap OR with you too close ttp that you two could feel each other with every inch you move

Uhhh and yeah that's it and feel free to add some touches and changes on the scenario, and I'd greatly appreciate it if maybe you add Nikolai in it😁🙏AND AGAIN IF U DON'T FEEL LIKE DOING MY REQ OR ISN'T ACCEPTING REQS RN THEN FEEL FREE TO IGNORE I HONESTLY DON'T MIND!!/lh /srs

OMG YES?! Ugh, I love this request! I wanted to add some more characters as well, So I picked the DOA (sorry) ＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )／

If y’all want a part 2 with different characters just let me know, Im at your service! <3

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

A Tight Fit~

Ft. Nikolai, Sigma, Fyodor

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Nikolai

Scenario: You were out on a mission with Nikolai, it should’ve been an easy “break in and grab important documents” type mission. But now, you two were squeezed together in a small closet, fearing that any small movement would get you two caught.

“Stay quiet...” Nikolai said as he listened closely, his face looked concentrated and serious, a change from his usual happy and calm face

You quietly nod, as you press against the wall behind you to try and get some more space in between you two

The closet is pretty small, hence why nikolai is leaning down, his hands are pressed firmly on each side of your head, inevitably pinning you in place

Nikolai thinks of a way for both of you to escape this situation without being spotted, “maybe I can teleport something”, he thought to himself

He reaches for his cape, unintentionally pressing against you

Your eyes widen as you feel something press against your area, you slowly look up to see if Nikolai noticed

His cheeks are flushed, hes frozen in place and there is an obvious smirk forming on his face

Yeah he definitely noticed.

You start to speak “Niko-… you’re so clo-“, he cuts you off as he places his hand over your lips

“Shh...” He says as he places a finger against his own lips with a small smirk

Moments later you hear the door of the office close, you two are now alone

“They’re gone now...” Nikolai says in a quiet gentle tone, he turns to you “But, i mean…we could just stay in here~” he says with a mischievous grin

Even after you two get out of that closet, he would keep on teasing and reminding you of the “incident”, he will make sure you never forget!~

Sigma

Scenario: You really don’t know how you got in this situation, one second you and Sigma were walking the streets of the city at night, after your wonderful date. The next, you were hiding in a small dark alley, your body pressed tightly against sigmas as you both hid from a certain jester.

“Damn it.” Sigma cursed under his breath as he kept his guard up, looking around frantically with a worried yet annoyed look

You looked up at Sigma, “Why are we hiding?” You whispered

Sigma looked down at you as he let out a sigh “I saw Nikolai roaming the streets, We can’t be seen together by anyone in the decay, if they were to find out about us...I’m sure horrible consequences would follow” he explained

You nod in agreement, “I understand..but um, why did we have to hide in such a...tight space.” You say as you look away, you can feel his body pressed tightly against yours, you can feel his every breath, his every shuffle and every slight movement

Sigma realizes this and blushes as his eyes widen, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice our position in the heat of the moment”

As he says this, you hear a slight noise come from the alley which causes you to slightly jump in a fright

Sigma let’s out a small grunt as he feels your crotch roughly brush against his, he grips your shoulders and holds you in place “Love please…try and stay still…at least for now” he pleads as his face flushes

Your eyes widen as you feel something slightly poke you “Sigm-“ you’re cut off as his hand covers your mouth, “Keep quiet..” he whispers as you hear footsteps around the corner

You feel him press more onto you, trying to hide your body from view as he lays his head against you shoulder, next to your ear

You slightly shuffle which causes sigma to groan in response, he quickly grips your hips with slight force

“Keep still..” he says in a low tone

Once you two finally get out of the alley way…let’s just say- his head was full of scenarios that caused him to blush profusely, as he practically dragged you to your apartment…

Fyodor

Scenario: Work has been so busy lately, new mission reports coming in everyday. Piles of finished and unfinished documents decorate your desk. All of this caused you to become stressed and overwhelmed, which caused you to become clumsy. So clumsy that you didn’t even seem to notice Fyodor turning the corner, not until it was too late.

**THUD**, is all that can be heard as your bodies crash together and fall to the floor

You feel extreme pain on your head as you let out a small groan of pain

You soothe your head and begin to slowly open your eyes, you try and comprehend what just happened as you hear a soft pained groan come from under you

You slowly begin to look down, your face flushes when you and Fyodor’s eyes meet

His eyes show slight shock as they quickly return to their neutral state, he just stares up at you…not uttering a word

You take a minute to process what is currently happening…and thats when you feel it, you feel something pressing against your area

You quickly get off Fyodor as you begin to apologize, “I’m so sorry! I should’ve been paying more attention!”, you ramble on apologies as you quickly stand up

He lets out a small chuckle as he stands up and brushes himself off , “No worries, more importantly…are you alright?” He asks with a bit of concern present in his tone

You nod as your face grows red, you begin to remember what you felt under you as you pray to god he didn’t notice

But, its like he can read you like a book, he smirks as he reaches for your chin, making you look at him “Yes,…I did notice and feel it” he says with a sly tone

You freeze in place as he says this, he then pulls away and softly smiles “Just be more careful and aware in the future, alright?”

He narrows his eyes as his tone changes to a more stern one, “Next time I won’t be so forgiving…~” he says as he begins to walk off

You’re left standing there shocked and frozen in place

He definitely enjoyed it, especially your cute reaction when you thought he didn’t notice. But for your sake he won’t bring it up, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t think about it constantly…~

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Hi Hi! Sorry for the delay, work has been getting in the way but no worries im clearing out my requests!

I changed the scenario up a bit for Fyodor! (Sorry)

I appreciate everyone sending in requests! Love yall! <3

#bsd nikolai gogol #nikolai x reader #bsd sigma #sigma x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic

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luffyvace · 10 months ago

Note

Hello there hope your doing super well ~ . As request are currently open could I please headcanons with law ,sanji, zoro. +feel free to add characters. With a s/O thats super sweet to everyone almost too sweet. Also cute. But some choice to take avngenre of y/n kinddess. And once y/N found out that is all fake. They become like a sad puppy. All sad.

Thanks for your work.💙💜

I’m doing wonderful dear anon<3 thank you for asking! Oh my I’ve never written for law, I don’t know much about him because I’m still at the impel down arc in the anime soo I hope sanji and zoro will be alright~ :)

y/n sounds so sweet! They must be protected!! (Also you used s/o and y/n so I will too, in this case no pronouns will be used ♥︎)

enjoy your hcs love! And thank you for your request! (may be a bit ooc for zoro?)

RORONOA ZORO ⚔️🗡

Zoro and a cute and sweet reader!~

what an adorable oxymoron<3

you love to cuddle and curl up on top of him when he’s sleeping

He’s a big guy so he’s sure to provide warmth

zoro doesn’t get your need to help others and being so kind to people

or how helping others makes you happy

but zoro is emotionally strong��maybe not intelligent but strong

so he knows when to draw the line for you if your accidentally being overly helpful

or if your tiring yourself out/overextending yourself

he brings a sense of balance to you in that aspect

the fact that he can do that for you is comforting and makes you feel protected

which Zoro is protective of you because of how naive you are

Zoro is very wary of strangers for you

your too sweet and assume that person is just having a bad day or that’s they’re natural face

but behind you is your big scary dog (zoro) who is glaring daggers at the person he knows actually has an evil intent towards you

Zoro is there most of the time so he doesn’t let people take advantage of you

but the times he isn’t around?

once he finds out he gonna slice that person into dice and make them return whatever they had you get them, etc

he doesn’t it like it at all and can immediately tell when someone is trying to get over on you

After the situation is handled he drags you away (getting you two lost) and says

“Seriously! You needa be more careful y/n!”

he doesn’t really notice how down you are for a while

until he turns around to ask you something and you sorta have this sad puppy look on your face

”what’s wrong with you?”

he’s not gentle about it or anything but he does care

when you tell him it’s because your sad that everyone your kind to betrays you his protectiveness heightens

”what do you wanna impress those people for when you have the world's greatest swordsman..”

he kinda muttered it to himself

but you heard and immediately perked up

you clang onto his arm and walked all the way back to the sunny like that

(might I mention it took a while since Zoro was leading..you knew the way but you decided to just let him 🤦‍♀️😂💗)

Zoro overall does appreciate what you do for him and the crew tho

how you count his push-ups and bring him the drinks/food you asked sanji to make him

it doesn’t go unnoticed so don’t worry :)

as far as y/n being cute he doesn’t notice every time

or have a big reaction when he does

he only blushes a little sometimes, again, when he notices

it’s easier to make him bashful than it is to make him blush with a cute face/smile

He does think your innocence is a bit cute tho!

…..along with naive, but still cute!

”seriously..how come your always getting yourself into trouble” (he blushes a little and turns his face away, pouting slightly)

VINSMOKE SANJI🧑‍🍳

Sanji x such a sweetheart reader is practically meant to be!!

Your both equally sweet and serving

especially sanji since he was raised in an environment where he had to serve people

you guys always insist on helping each other

your love languages are most definitely acts of service and quality time

you two do each other favors all day

”let me help you!”

”no I’ve got it sit down, relax!”

that conversation goes both ways between the two of you multiple times a day

Sanji loves to cook for you so ask him any time of day!

he never has a problem with it and wants to do it actually!

You two are equally emotional people and probably empathic

you guys feel for other people so you feel the urge to help those in need

your weakness is being too kind and his is being too much of a gentleman

you guys are actually really similar in a sense

which you all don’t mind because you can relate to each other

sanji however knows when to take a break

not to say that you don’t but you just tend to overwork yourself for other people’s sake

to which sanji puts a stop to :)

he runs you hot baths, massages your shoulders and washes your hair

You do the same for him since you’d feel bad if you didn’t

he very much appreciates this

its not every day someone takes care of him

you guys then eat the delicious hot meal he prepared and snuggle up, falling asleep together

You guys also take the chance for vacation every time you see one

Pirates have to be prepared for the worst of adventures on every island

so as soon as you see the opportunity to relax you two leap to have a fun beach day

sanji is absolutely a SIMP for how cute you are

he is SO fond over you and is always gushing and bragging (to zoro) how cute his s/o is

like literally he doesn’t shut up about how adorable you are!

a cute lady with a sweet personality??

yes please.

He definitely warns you after the first few times he sees you getting taken advantage of

it’s a sweet and gentle chat about the dangers in the world and how you can’t trust everyone

even if you don’t trust them! set boundaries and don’t let them walk all over you!

if you feel too many bad people are around don’t give them the benefit of the doubt! find a straw hat and stick with them!!

”y/n-Chan you’ve gotta use your discernment to see who is being mean and who is worthy to trust..!”

like yes some strangers are kind but some will see how sweet you are and use that against you!

absolutely does not let a man take advantage of you and will immediately kick him away

with a women tho he will probably go get robin or nami

maybe even simply take you away and let it go if it’s just a regular woman

but if it’s a pirate who’s trying to back you into a corner yeah he’s for sure getting the straw hat girls

he will offer himself instead and tell you to go get someone from back on the merry/sunny

Or maybe if you can fight he’ll root for you!

not that he likes that fact that another woman is being hurt in the process..

but if he has to choose between his woman and another one that was disrespecting his woman??

”GO MY BEAUTIFUL Y/N-CHWAAAAAN!!!”

as for sad puppy y/n he notices right away and immediately does whatever he can to cheer you up again

he bakes you sweets, runs you a bath, makes you drinks, makes you laugh, buys you whatever you want just to see you smile

and again if it was a guy who did this to you he’s 100% getting the boot 💥💥

your sure to cheer up soon with all that sanji does for you

especially with his warm cuddles n kissses ♡

thank you once again for your requests my love! Today is a very busy day..I have a lot to get out.. 😅

Overall I hope you enjoyed your hcs!

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hongcherry · 9 months ago

Text

rating svt from husband, boyfriend, bestie material

pairing/genres: svt x reader (gn); fluff

warnings: lots of nana tour (NT) and in the soop (ITS) references, as well as others but wanted to give specific warnings for those two shows bc spoilers

author's note: for 🍉 anon. THIS WAS TOUGH LMAO. I’d also like to say this is kinda biased!!! I tried to be objective despite having strong feelings toward certain members 🥲 But just a general disclaimer: I do not know them personally, so I'm going off of what they've shown to the public. I know there will be people who disagree because we all have different ideas/preferences in a partner/best friend. So, please, keep that in mind! Each member can mean something different depending on the person 💞

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

Husband Material

1. Mingyu — This man can cook, clean, is intelligent, handsome, funny, etc etc etc~. I believe he’s also one of the first members to comfort others. And his sister has mentioned she wants a partner like Mingyu. Enough said lol.

2. Seungcheol — He’s caring, loyal, reliable, and dependable (cough that one jeongcheol clip cough). He’s not afraid to stand up for those he cares about (i.e., members > company). He’ll be the protector type (wbk). I sense the relationship would feel stable and secure.

3. Joshua — This man has always screamed husband material. He truly IS a gentleman. He has a good balance of playfulness and seriousness, which would make the relationship fun. He’s also very caring (flashback to ITS with Seungkwan (even NT as well)) and has a great heart.

4. Chan — In his Weverse interview, he mentioned how he wants to be there for his members no matter what. He’s also very passionate about his craft, and I think that attribute would cross into his love life. And did you see the video of him with that carat and holding their purse while they got in the car?!?!

5. Minghao — I’m reminded of that video of him saying he’s always dreamed of getting married and having kids (ironically saw this again on my tl recently). And watching NT, it’s so easy to imagine him with his family in an artsy town. Also, he’d be loyal (I recall all the anti-delulu fancalls and lives LOL; this doesn't necessarily show loyalty but yk... it can *wink wonk*) and caring (as seen with Vernon).

Boyfriend Material

6. Seokmin — He’s so precious and sweet. Definitely someone you would want to take home to your family. He’s so full of love and happiness. I think he’ll care for his partner a lot and shower them with love. The relationship with him would be so wholesome.

7. Wonwoo — Have you seen the way he treats Chan?! Imagine him with his partner *sobs* I get the sense (one of) his love language(s) is acts of service, so he’d treat his partner sweetly and tenderly. He’ll be a soft and supportive lover.

8. Jun — I recall how he made breakfast for SVT during predebut because he couldn’t speak Korean well at the time but wanted to do something nice/show his love for his members. I also saw a recent video of him making sure one of the members didn’t fall when they stumbled. So, I think he’d be very attentive to his partner’s needs. Also, imagine bf!Jun cooking you hot pot. Yes, please.

9. Jeonghan — I think he teeters on the boyfriend and bestie line (his face also gives off fwb vibes lmao), but since Jeonghan is one of my biases, he gets put in this category (semi-sorry). This man said, “You’re supposed to wait endlessly for people you like” in NT. He has said he wants to be an island to people in ITS. He’s also supportive of others as we’ve seen when he co-parents with Cheol lol. I think he wouldn’t be afraid to do something for his partner if they needed him to as well (i.e., that live when Seungkwan wanted to sing but it was late, so Jeonghan said he’ll ask for others to understand. It may have been a joke, but it was still kind to say).

Bestie Material

10. Soonyoung — He’s the person I would swap with Jeonghan since he also is on the borderline. He’s very energetic with people he’s comfortable with so his friends get to see that side a lot. He’s also cuddly as we’ve seen in several clips of him snuggling his members lol. I get the “you’re so comfortable around each other it’s almost like you’re dating” vibes LOL.

11. Seungkwan — He’d be so fun to be around. A lot of fun memories will be created with him. He’s the life of the party, and I just imagine him popping around here and there at an event lol (I think I’m overprojecting slightly, but he would still be well-known to others!). I think Seungkwan just needs/likes to be around people regardless of whether they’re a partner or a friend.

12. Vernon — He feels like a free spirit. I believe he’s mentioned before that he’s more of a personality person, so he’s not focused on looks in his partner. He’s very chill and already is confident in his own skin. I get the sense he’s content being alone (or w a friend) but also having a partner if the right one comes around.

13. Jihoon — It’s not impossible to have a relationship when he’s busy, but it def would be harder to balance. Even though he’s quiet, he cares. This is evident in the songs he’s made for certain members. I think he wouldn’t mind a partner, but they’d need to be understanding of his lifestyle (and accept he’s not big on showing affection directly). I think his partner would be someone who is similar to him but also would be able to introduce him to things he doesn’t do (like go outside lol. I say this bc he was loving the NT experience).

divider credit

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

#requests #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #svt x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

Text

The Devil Wears Armani 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you’re the CEO’s new PA and you find the work too much to handle. (short!reader)

Characters: Tony Stark, this reader is known as Georgie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

—posting to the correct blog lol—

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

The appletini at girls' night does little to ease you through a restless night. You’re not a traveller. You’ve never flown before. The only reason you have a passport is it was required for the job. You didn’t expect to actually use it.

You give into consciousness around 3am and double check your bag for everything you need. You forego your usual coffee as you fear an anxious bladder adding to your addled state. You still can’t figure out why Mr. Stark told you to come along. You don’t have anything blocked into his calendar. He’s had weekend meetings before but you usually pop into zoom to take notes and nothing else.

You spare the fare for a cab as the streetcar isn’t in service yet and you don’t feel like venturing into the underground at this hour. The ride is swift in the dead streets of the city. You don’t think you’ve ever seen them so empty.

You arrive at the airport and realise you’re missing a very important piece. A boarding pass? Terminal information? Any sort of direction to find where you need to be. Well, it never hurts to ask for help even if you don’t get it.

You enter and go to the counter. The woman behind it looks tired as dark rings stain her sockets and she fixes her smile to greet you. You nervously clench your jaw and exhale through your nose.

“Hi, I... I’m supposed to be flying, er, private? I work for Tony Stark?” You creak out through your dry throat. You need water.

“Mr. Stark?” She lowers her brow, “do you have proof of employment?”

“Erm, yeah,” you unhook your keyring from your purse and shove it towards her. Your company ID is hooked onto the cluster of novelty attachments and keys.

“I need to make a call,” she says as she examines your identification.

Great.

You bob nervously on the other side of the counter as the attendant speaks quietly into the speaker. Your phone buzzes and you jingle the keys as you find it. Stark has sent you a simple message; ‘Terminal 1, tarmac. Now.’

As you peek up over the counter, the woman hangs up. “You need to head up to Terminal 1. Find an employee there, in a white shirt like mine, and show them this.” She kits a few keys and her printer grinds with great effort. She hands you a boarding pass but most of it is empty. There’s only a code at the bottom.

You thank her and head off. You scramble through security, walking through the scanner as your bag rides the conveyor through and x-ray. You retrieve your things on the other side and run off to reach Mr. Stark before he gets too impatient. He’s probably already agitated.

You check your watch. It’s only 5:01am. You’re on time, right?

You follow the signs to terminal one and find a large man standing by a ramp entrance. You approach him and show him the pass. He points you to another employee at the far end as he talks over his walkie talkie to them. You cross the tiled floor to meet the man and he beckons you towards another ramp.

You’re led down to the tarmac and left to shuffle across it on your own. You’re only told to approach big jet waiting by a tower set of stairs. There’s an attendant at the bottom who greets your brightly and you show the pass again.

“Mr. Stark is expecting you. May I take your bag?” She offers.

“No thank, I can handle it,” you nod and lift the bag off its wheels.

You climb a stair at a time and pass another attendant at the top. She directs you to leave your bag in the front carriage and you roll it behind the wall of webbing there. You turn to the ivory curtain and peek through tentatively. The movement of fabric draws Mr. Stark’s gaze from his phone.

“Get in here,” he demands, “about time, George. I was about to fall asleep.”

You push through and near him, “sir, did you need coffee?”

“They got the long-legged ones for that,” he waves away your offer with his lecherous allusion to the pretty, tall attendants. “Sit.”

You look at the chair on the other side of the table, across from him, and you hesitate. You lower yourself into the cushy seat and cross one leg over the other, your foot bouncing anxiously. You clutch your hands together and stare at Mr. Stark.

“You look tired as hell,” he cackles.

“Sir, it’s early.”

“Ah, don’t let that ruin an all-inclusive. Tell me, Georgie, a girl like you, are you jet-setting every weekend? You got billionaires flying you to the Caribbean on the reg? Didn’t think you were the popular type.”

“No, sir, I--” you try not to wince at his insinuation. You are all too aware that you’re on the bottom rung of the ladder he sits atop of. “Thank you for this. It’s very nice of you to bring me along.”

“You are very welcome,” he says smugly, “move.”

He points to the seat next to him.

“Oh, uh,” you pull your hands apart and push yourself up with the armrests, “sorry.”

He grunts, irritated, and signals with two fingers. As an attendant approaches, you sidle around the table and in front of Stark to get to the other seat. You feel a brush on your thigh but ignore it. It’s a tight squeeze.

He asks for an espresso as you lower yourself down. He reaches over and pinches the fabric of your pants, just at the top of your knee. He sniffs.

“This isn’t very Caribbean-friendly. You’re gonna sweat your tits off,” he derides.

You try not to show your embarrassment, ignoring the urge to cover your chest at his comment. Out of habit, you put on your usual attire. A cardigan, a tidy blouse, and slacks. He huffs again and tugs at the sleeve of your cardigan.

“Get rid of this,” he demands.

“Oh, uh...” You sit forward as you undo the single button and you shrug out of the wool. He swipes it away and tosses it on the floor.

The attendant returns with his espresso and gathers up your cardigan as you send her an apologetic look. Stark takes his coffee and tastes it before setting it on the table. He turns to you and clucks again. You let out a squeak as he reaches to pop the top button of your blouse, then the next. You flatten yourself to the seat helplessly.

“Better, gotta let those things breathe,” he winks and sits back with a smirk.

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