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itneverendshere · 3 months ago

Note

rafe finding out you’re back to not taking care of yourself, especially when he’s coming back from rehab. you’re going back to full swing less than bare minimum to take care of yourself

thank you for the request!!🩷 hope you enjoy!!

the way you hold me is actually what's holy - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Rafe had this whole plan in his head.

He was finally back in town after spending the better part of six months at that damn rehab center. Finally clean, head clear, body feeling... normal, or at least as normal as it got after kicking all the shit he put himself through. The whole time he was there, he thought about you. How you visited him every week no matter how exhausted you were from your shifts now that you’d been promoted. How you took extra days off work for him, even when you couldn’t afford to miss them. How you always brought him a home-cooked meal because you knew he hated everything they gave him at that place.

And he promised himself that when he came back, things were gonna change. He was gonna change—for you.

It was all worked out. He’d show up at your sister’s place a day before he was supposed to leave, surprise you, maybe bring some flowers. Then he’d ask you to move in with him. He thought about it day and night. He was tired of that house. Of having his dad constantly hovering over his shoulder, even when he was miles away. He was gonna get a new place, not one of those temporary rentals where he barely unpacked his bags. A real place, a clean slate.

A new start. For the both of you.

But when Monica opened the door, his plans went out the window.

“Rafe?” Her eyes widened for a second before her face broke into the widest smile he’d seen in months. And before he could even get a word out, she threw her arms around him, hugging the living hell out of him like it had been years instead of just months. "Oh my God, you’re back! You look... you look amazing."

The way Monica squeezed him, how genuinely happy she was to see him—it hit him harder than he expected. Rehab was tough. Really tough. And he didn’t expect people to be waiting for him on the other side, not like this.

"I’m back," he muttered, hugging her tightly as he let himself breathe for the first time since stepping out of that damn place. Monica had been there for him too, just like you had. She’d kept you company sometimes when you went on those long drives to visit him. He didn’t deserve people like you two in his life, but he wasn’t going to take it for granted.

Monica pulled back but kept her hands on his shoulders, her eyes sparkling with this genuine pride. "You look healthy. I mean, really healthy. It’s good to see you like this."

Rafe smiled, a little bashful. "Yeah. Feels good to be back. I’ve been, you know, working on shit."

She smiled back, her eyes glinting with emotion. "I’m so proud of you, Rafe."

His throat tightened at that. He wasn’t used to hearing those words, you were the only one constantly reminding him of it. Everyone else said it with some hidden judgment or expectation behind them, like they were waiting for him to screw up again. But Monica meant it. She always did. She was your sister, after all.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, feeling more awkward than he should’ve, but he couldn’t help it. “I’m trying, you know?”

She squeezed his shoulder before stepping back, "You here to see her?"

"Yeah. I, uh... wanted to surprise her.”

The smile on Monica’s face dropped just a little, and Rafe’s stomach sank instantly. He knew that look. It was the same one you got when you didn’t want to tell him something that might hurt him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, even though he already had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer.

Monica sighed, rubbing a hand over her face before she leaned back against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. "She’s at work right now."

“At this hour? I thought she—”

��She’s been working extra shifts. A lot of them.”

Rafe frowned. You already worked so much as it was. Extra shifts? Why? He thought things had been better for you since he left, that you had more time to focus on yourself, maybe even catch up on the sleep you’d missed while dealing with his mess. “Why? She didn’t tell me she was working more.”

Monica sighed again—something that made Rafe know he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear, “She didn’t want you to worry. She didn’t want anyone to worry, actually.”

“Monica, what’s going on?” The anxiety clawed at his chest. He hated not knowing. Hated being in the dark, especially when it came to you.

Her eyes softened, and she took a step closer, like she could feel the panic building inside him. “Listen... she’s not taking care of herself. She’s been putting everyone first—Milo, her job, you—but she’s not eating enough, she’s not sleeping enough. She’s been burning herself out.”

Rafe’s heart sank. You hadn’t said a word about it to him. Not during any of his calls or visits. You were always smiling, always saying things were fine. But they weren’t.

He should’ve known. Should’ve seen the signs.

“She didn’t tell me.”

“She didn’t tell anyone. That’s the thing. You know she doesn’t ask for help. She just... takes it all on, even when it’s too much. And with you gone... I think she felt like she had to be strong for you, like she couldn’t let herself fall apart because you were going through so much.”

You had been falling apart, and he didn’t even see it. He’d been so focused on getting himself together that he didn’t notice you slipping. And now he didn’t know how to fix it.

“I should’ve done something.”

“No.” Her voice was firm, and she reached out to touch his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “This isn’t on you. You were getting better, doing what you had to do. She loves you, okay? She wasn’t going to let you worry about her while you were in rehab. She’s always been like this. Always putting herself last. It’s not about you. It’s about her not knowing how to let people take care of her.”

Rafe’s chest tightened, his mind flashing through all the times you’d pushed aside your own needs in the past, all the times you’d taken care of him instead of yourself. He thought that was never going to happen again. He’d been so blind to it, thinking you were the strong one. But you were just as fragile as he was, maybe more, because you didn’t let anyone see it.

"She’s working until midnight tonight. You should go talk to her. But... don’t be mad, okay? She’s doing the best she can."

Rafe nodded, his throat tight. He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t angry at you. He was angry at himself for not seeing it sooner. For letting you drown under the weight of everything while he was too busy figuring out his own shit. “I’ll go see her.”

Your sister gave him a small smile, a little sad but understanding. “She needs you. Just... be there for her, okay? And don’t guilt-trip her about this. She already feels like she’s failing everyone.”

“I won’t,” he promised, even though the guilt was eating him alive inside. He had to be strong for you now, the way you’d been strong for him all this time. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to fix this.

With that, he left, heading to his truck, his mind spinning the whole way to The Country Club. He didn’t know how he was going to make this right, but he knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going to let you keep doing this. He wasn’t going to let you fall apart, not when he was here now, ready to carry some of the weight for you.

The country club was quieter than usual when he pulled into the parking lot, but the bar inside was still buzzing with its usual evening crowd. He walked in, scanning the room, his eyes instantly finding you behind the bar.

You were moving like a pro, handing off drinks, shaking up cocktails, giving out that charming smile you always had for the customers. But now that he knew what was going on, it was easy to see how tired you looked. The dark circles under your eyes, the way your shoulders slumped just a little between orders. You were running on empty, and it broke his heart.

Before he could even think of what he was going to say to you, your eyes found his across the room. For a second, everything seemed to stop. Your eyes widened in surprise, and your breath hitched, like you couldn’t believe he was actually there. He felt his heart skip a beat, and then—

“Rafe?” you breathed out, your voice soft and disbelieving. Without another thought, you bolted from behind the bar, not even bothering to tell anyone to cover your shift.

He barely had time to react before you practically jumped into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as your arms circled his neck. You clung to him like a koala bear, and Rafe caught you, holding you tight against him, his heart racing as he buried his face in your neck.

“Holy shit, you’re really here,” you mumbled into his neck, your voice strained with emotion. You clutched him tighter, like if you let go, he’d disappear. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” He explained, his voice muffled against your skin, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips, even with all the heavy stuff on his mind. Just having you in his arms again felt like a weight lifting off his chest.

You leaned back just enough to look at him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears as you cupped his face in your hands. “God, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too baby.” He pressed his forehead to yours, his hands gripping your waist. “I’m back, okay? I’m here.”

A small laugh bubbled out of you, even though there were tears running down your cheeks now. “I can’t believe I’m crying at work. I never cry at work.”

Rafe grinned, brushing your tears away with his thumb. “I’ll let it slide this time.”

You laughed again, but then you seemed to remember where you were. You glanced over your shoulder at the bar, where a few customers were still waiting for their drinks. “Shit, I— I’m working."

He set you down gently, his hands still resting on your waist as you adjusted your shirt and ran a hand through your hair, clearly flustered but trying to get back into work mode. “I should get back to it.”

“Take a break,” He pleaded, his hand moving to grab yours. “Please.”

You blinked up at him, the tiredness you’d been hiding for months finally showing through. For once, you didn’t argue. You just nodded, squeezing his hand before leading him to quieter corner of the bar where you could talk without interruption. Once you sat down across from him, you took a deep breath, like you already knew something was coming.

“What did Monica say?”

Rafe paused, his fingers absentmindedly drumming on the table as he tried to figure out how to start. “She told me you’ve been overworking yourself. Taking extra shifts, not sleeping, not eating enough.”

You sighed heavily, leaning back in your seat and rubbing a hand over your face. “She wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you?” Rafe asked. He wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, but he needed to understand. “You’ve been doing all this, and you didn’t say a word to me.”

You looked down at your hands, your fingers twisting together in your lap. “You were in rehab, baby. You were going through so much, and I didn’t want to add to your stress. I didn’t want you to feel guilty about me.”

“You don’t have to carry everything on your own,” Rafe said softly, his chest tightening. “I know I was a mess before, but I’m better now. I want to be there for you the way you were there for me. The way we used to be before.”

You shook your head, “I just... I didn’t know how to stop. You needed me, Monica needed me... work needed me. And I thought, if I just kept going, I could handle it.”

He reached across the table, grabbing your hands and holding them tight. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore. I’m here now, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time you didn’t try to hide them. You let them fall, your grip tightening on his hands like you were afraid to let go. “I don’t know how to let go again.”

“Let me help,” Rafe whispered, leaning closer. “You’ve always been there for me, and now it’s my turn to take care of you. You don’t have to keep doing this by yourself.”

You nodded slowly, wiping at your tears with a shaky hand. “I just... I didn’t want to be a burden.”

The conversation gave him a sense of Deja Vu. You two had been here before.

“You’re not a burden,” Rafe said firmly, “You’ve never been a burden. You’re everything to me. And I don’t want you burning yourself out like this. Not for me, not for anyone.”

You took a deep, shaky breath, your eyes meeting his again. “I just missed you so much. And I didn’t know how to handle everything without you.”

Rafe’s heart clenched at the honesty in your voice, and he reached out, pulling you into his arms again. “I’m here now. We’ll figure this out together, okay? You don’t have to keep doing this alone.”

You clung to him, your face buried in his chest as you finally let yourself relax in his arms. And he held you determined to make things right. He was going to be there for you, the way you had always been there for him.

It felt so good to be in his arms, to finally let yourself feel vulnerable after holding everything together for so long. You closed your eyes, breathing in his familiar scent. You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. You could see how much he cared, and it made you feel safe, but also exposed, it’s like you’d momentarily forgotten how good it felt to be so close to him.

As if reading your mind, he brushed a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb, “I don’t want to see you like this anymore,” he said quietly. “You deserve more.” You opened your mouth to retort, but the words stuck in your throat as he continued, “I’ve been thinking a lot about the future while I was gone, and I know things have been tough for both of us, but I want to make them better. I want to be better. I want you to be better.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, your heart pounding as you searched his eyes for answers.

He took a deep breath, his expression serious but tender. “I want you to move in with me.”

All you could do was blink in surprise.

“Rafe...” Move in? After everything? After months of barely surviving and keeping your head above water, now he was asking you to dive into something that felt... big. Scary even. You blinked again, and the look on his face was so serious, like he’d thought about this a hundred times over. Maybe he had. But you hadn’t. You’d been too wrapped up in keeping things from crashing to even imagine a future like that, let alone moving in with him. “Are you serious?”

Rafe’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand, “Yeah. I’ve thought about it a lot. I don’t want to be apart anymore. I don’t want you running yourself into the ground, and I sure as hell don’t want you dealing with everything alone. I’m here now. I want us to have a fresh start, together.”

Your heart clenched. This was the Rafe you’d always believed in, the one you saw past all the shit he went through. And it was everything you wanted—more than you’d let yourself hope for. But then the doubt crept in. What if it was too much, too soon? What if things went wrong?

You dropped your gaze, focusing on the way your fingers tangled together, trying to calm yourself. “I don’t even know if I’m ready. I mean, everything’s been so... I don’t know, chaotic lately. I can barely keep my own life together.”

He let out a soft sigh, leaning closer. “I get that. I do. But that’s why I’m asking. We don’t have to do it all at once. We can take it slow. I just... I don’t want you to feel like you’re in this alone anymore. I need you with me, and I think you need me too.”

You did need him.

You’d missed him so much it ached, but you were terrified of leaning on him again, of letting yourself fall into something that might not last. But then again, wasn’t that what love was about? Taking chances, even when everything felt uncertain?

You swallowed hard, lifting your eyes to meet his. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But we take it slow, alright? I don’t want to mess this up.”

Rafe smiled, that slow, crooked grin that always made you fall deeper in love. “Slow is good. As long as we’re doing it together.” He tilted his head, watching you closely. He always seemed to know when you were lost in thought. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” His voice was soft, patient, like he wasn’t in a rush for an answer.

You gave a half-smile, shaking your head slightly. “I just... it’s a lot, you know? If I start freaking out, you have to promise not to take it personally.”

He chuckled, the sound so familiar it almost made you cry all over again, “Deal. And if I start freaking out, you’ve gotta do the same.”

You smiled, finally feeling the tightness in your chest ease. Maybe this could work. Maybe the two of you could find your way back to each other. You believed him wholeheartedly. It wasn’t just the words; it was the way he looked at you, like he wasn’t just making promises he couldn’t keep anymore. He was standing in front of you, offering something real, something he was willing to put in the work for.

Rafe’s gaze softened, his lips quirking into a small smile as he cupped your cheek. "I know we say this all the time, but I love you," he said, like it was second nature, like he was reminding you of something you both already knew, something solid and familiar. There wasn’t any grand declaration because it didn’t need to be—it was the quiet kind of love that had been there all along.

You leaned into his touch. “I love you too.” The words came so easily, as natural as breathing, because they were always there, hanging between the two of you, even on the worst days.

His thumb stroked your skin his eyes never leaving yours. "We’ll figure it out," he whispered like he wasn’t just saying it for you, but for himself too. "We always do."

You nodded, the corners of your mouth lifting in a small, tired smile. “Yeah, we do.”

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darsynia · 5 months ago

Text

Forgiven (CEO Steve/f!Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE MASTERLIST | Ro Roll | Part II

Summary: Since dropping out of school to care for your sister, your daydream has been that a rich, handsome man will save you from drowning in debt. Until then (read: never), you’ll work hard at your new receptionist job and try not to ogle the impossibly hot construction guy working in the foyer…

Words/Warnings: 2,855 | none

As 5/7 of my Ro Roll birthday fics for @ronearoundblindly, forGIVEn is a fluffy meet cute between CEO Steve and f!Freader. Gif is by @ashilesun.

Excerpt:

“Something wrong, miss?”

You look up to see Foreman Eye Candy standing beside the desk looking gently concerned. One sandy blonde curl is plastered to his forehead with sweat, and you can see that his eyes are a gorgeous shade of blue.

From behind you, a hand lands on your shoulder with just enough pressure to guide you to your seat.

“Nothing of note, Sir, I’m sure!” your coworker says hurriedly.

“All right,” the man says, setting his left hand down on the counter. There’s no ring on his finger. ‘Sir’ Eye Candy (you’re going to hell for all of this) offers a kindly, “Have a good afternoon,” and right at that moment, both of the reception phones ring. There’s no time to process the oddness of what’s just happened, not until you’re back at home and making dinner for your sister.

“How was your hump day?” Jennie asks from the living room.

You nearly splash boiling hot water all over yourself.

FORGIVEN

“Thank God for the internship last summer!” your sister says (again).

“I do, I do,” you promise, looking at yourself critically in the grubby bathroom mirror. She doesn’t have to know you pick a new deity to mentally ‘thank’ every time. Today it’s Thor, because you need to bring electricity to your first day on the job.

You’re hoping to look professional but approachable for this customer-facing position, and it looks like the months of clothes thrifting before your internship last year are really paying off. Do you wish you could work in your field of choice? Sure, but working in the same company as a receptionist means you have both in-field and company knowledge. Once Jennie is back on her feet, you hope to be back on yours, too.

You step into the kitchen to check that everything is set up for your sister. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come back at lunch?”

“No mother hen-ing, you promised! I’ll be fine, and you’ll need your own lunch!”

Your watch beeps that it’s time to start walking to work, so you slip into your sturdy dress shoes and give the room a final once-over. Jennie’s cooler of food is near the couch, she’s got all of the remotes, and her walker is within reach. You’ve even put a pair of crutches in the umbrella stand and lashed the damned thing to the couch so she can’t knock it over. Her charger is at hand, the blinds are down, and the end table has her morning coffee on a coaster.

“Get out or I’ll start throwing things at you and you’ll be late from having to clean them up!” your sister teases.

“I love when you nag,” you tell her, shutting the door before she can retort.

Star Industries is honestly your dream workplace, even after pausing your mechanical engineering degree to take care of Jennie. After Tony Stark and his company spun it off as a subsidiary, Star really came into its own. The company has an inspiring mission: to ensure safe, affordable prosthetics for the people who really need them. Many customers are war veterans, just like the two men in charge. The COO even has one himself.

You’d filled out your paperwork after hours, so when you walk into the building, it’s a nice surprise to see how the morning light floods the lobby. The atrium of the building is made up of a multi-storey open space lit by tall windows, with the company’s logo laid out in the tile floor right as you come in the doors. The A in the word ‘STAR’ is, of course, a star, but it’s the missing ‘K’ from its parent company that catches the eye. Instead of upright, the K is laid on its ‘back.’ One stick figure’s front leg and another stick figure’s back leg make up the angled lines from the K--and they’re both wearing prosthetics.

The name badge you’re given has a smaller version of the same logo, and you can’t help but hope this isn’t the only time you’ll be representing the company. You fix it to your lapel and sit nervously at the desk beside the woman who will train you. It’s an hour before you come up for air long enough to notice there’s some renovation work going on nearby.

Honestly, ‘notice’ is embarrassingly underselling it.

The windows in the lobby are clearly designed to encourage shafts of sunlight that flood a particular area with a cheerful glow. You’ve managed to look over right when one such beam illuminates a man wearing rough work clothes, his head tipped back to drink out of a water bottle. He’s handsome as hell, with a face like Adonis and powerful muscles straining his sweat-damp t-shirt. The sunlight turns him into a golden statue, and you sure as hell would visit museums more often if the art looked like that!

Your phone rings and you answer promptly, tearing your eyes away from the construction worker just as he smiles at someone. The stammered greeting you offer to the caller could be chalked up to it being your first day, but that isn’t the reason at all.

Your first week on the job is equal parts satisfying and stressful. Satisfying because it turns out you’re a natural at taking zero shit with maximum politeness. Your stress comes from the renovations.

The work isn’t loud, and it’s not like you’re worried about safety or anything. Technically, your job isn’t affected at all… well, not because of your assigned work, that is. No, you’re the one affected, and it’s thanks to the man who seems to be in charge.

After that first day, the tarp that separated their construction from the rest of the lobby had been removed, meaning you could just look over and see him at any point throughout your day.

You’ve been rationing those glimpses for your own sanity.

Despite this, there are still details you’ve noted. One, he’s definitely the foreman. Everyone defers to the guy, but his leadership style seems to rely on trust and respect. Two, he has the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen. Paired with his looks, it’s a disastrous combination, especially given Reason Number Three: he’s an utter beast. More than once you’ve seen him moving things with ease that would take multiple other men to lift.

Today is Monday and the men were all at work before you arrive. Their project is taking shape; it appears to be a café with low counters, maybe a wheelchair-friendly gathering space? It would be on brand for the company, and certainly explains why you’ve been brought on as a second receptionist. The usual population in the lobby will certainly go up once it’s completed.

Before you sit down, you take stock of the wide welcome desk. Would anyone notice if you nudged one of the large flower pots to the left to mostly block your view of the café area? You decide to risk it. Foreman Eye Candy is a Distraction with a capital D, and you already love this job.

The morning goes smoothly--but by lunch you’re fairly certain you’ve memorized the pattern on the side of that damned pot, for as often as you’ve looked over at it.

When you come back from your break, the pot is back where it was before.

Your hands shake a little bit as you log back into your computer. Did a cleaning crew come through and adjust it? You’re not brave enough to ask the senior receptionist for fear she’ll question why it was moved in the first place. It’s probably a fluke, you decide.

Without your makeshift barrier, you find yourself looking over at the Foreman way too many times before you’re done for the day, but he’s smiled at least twice in your direction, so that’s something.

On Tuesday morning, you choose discretion as the better part of valor and scoot the pot over to obscure your view again, even taking the time to nudge its closest neighbor a little, to even up the spacing.

After lunch on Tuesday, both pots are moved back, and Eye Candy is smiling. You doubt the two are related.

On Wednesday you bring in one of those Newton’s Cradle desk toys with permission from your coworker at the desk. It’s altruistic, distracting the children when their parents show up to ask questions. Because your area is recessed a bit, you risk setting the item on a little paper sorter to make it level with the visitors’ side. Completely incidentally, that placement blocks some of your view of the café under construction.

You come back from lunch to find the shelf moved to the other side of your computer monitor.

It’s so disconcerting that you stand there staring at it in shock for a long moment, long enough to attract attention.

“Something wrong, miss?”

From behind you, a hand lands on your shoulder with just enough pressure to guide you to your seat.

“Nothing of note, Sir, I’m sure!” your coworker says hurriedly.

“How was your hump day?” Jennie asks from the living room.

You nearly splash boiling hot water all over yourself.

Chanting ‘it’s Wednesday, that’s called ‘hump day,’ there’s nothing that implies you’ve been thinking impure thoughts, pull it together!’ in your head, you answer something non-committal and continue with dinner.

That night you have a dream that Sir Eye Candy walks over and smiles at you, illuminated by one of those rays of light straight from heaven.

On Thursday you arrive at work to find the pots have all been moved farther back along the decorative part of the receptionist’s desk, much too far to move any of them without notice.

As if he’d been waiting for you to see the change, you make brief eye contact with Sir Eye Candy. He does a little nod of acknowledgment before turning to move the large sign for the café. By himself.

“Am I awake?” you whisper to yourself, unable to look away from how effortlessly he moves under heavy strain.

“Keep staring at the boss like that and the rest of his crew will never let you hear the end of it!” your front desk coworker Marcia jokes.

Your cognitive function flatlines as you try to process the word ‘boss’ while at the same time watching the man in question wipe sweat off of his brow. “It’s obvious he’s the foreman,” you mumble, dropping your phone so you have to look away to pick it up. If the screen cracks, you deserve it.

“Oh, honey, this is his side gig. Pet project. Maybe even a vacation, knowing Rogers,” Marcia chuckles.

The name ‘Rogers’ finally gets through to you, in context to ‘the boss.’ Steve Rogers.

Sir Eye Candy is CEO Eye Candy.

“Wait…”

“There it is!” Your coworker gives you the kind of look only busybody aunts and elder coworkers can pull off. “Word is his gym is closed for a few weeks, so he pulled some strings to move this project up. Nice way to start a new job, yeah?”

You’ve been ogling the CEO. “Should I put in my two weeks’ notice?” you whisper. Dismay doesn’t even cover it. You’re practically mortifie--

“I’d advise your manager not to accept,” a nearby voice says. “If anything, I probably ought to call myself into an HR meeting. I’ve been quite distracted this past week.”

It’s CEO Eye Can-- Rogers. All you can do is mutely look up at him, watching the amused look on his face turn into a stern one.

“Have you been messing with my plant display?”

It’s not at all what you were expecting him to say, and you’re still befuddled by the idea he was distracted by you, so you stammer out an admission that yes, you did move his pots.

The phone rings, and after a subtle gesture from Rogers, Marcia takes the call.

“Sir,” you begin, noting the way his posture straightens on hearing the title. You lick your lips in nervousness, and god, his eyes go straight there. HR would be having kittens.

“Go on?” Rogers’ voice is resonant. Everything about this feels like a rom-com, and you are totally worried you’ll screw it up.

“Forgive me for staring?” you offer. You’d meant to say something less obvious, but it’s too late now.

“Yes, well. I’d like to go over your conduct at a lunch meeting, if, that is, you--” he breaks off, lifts his chin, and clears his throat. “In a half hour.”

“I-- Of course--” You’ve answered too late, he’s already walking away and calling out to the crew. Stunned, you look over at Marcia. She’s grinning, but doesn’t look up, and you decide to take your cues from her.

Fifteen minutes later, the work crew wraps up. You see them file out in your peripheral vision, but if Rogers is going to play the Principal’s Office card, you’re going to play at being an obedient student.

This sends your mind on a complete irresponsible rampage, and you’re still tamping down the mental images when a gentleman in a suit walks up to the front of the desk.

Your welcoming smile is already in place when you lift your head to greet him, but it widens into surprised happiness to see that it’s Rogers. At the very last minute you stop yourself from acting like he’s picking you up for a date, even though you very much hope that’s what this is, HR be damned. Every fairytale has a villain, after all, and villains are made to be thwarted.

“Can I help you, sir?”

The word choice is deliberate.

“You can. Marcia, do you usually cover for lunch?”

“I do.”

“Good. We’ll be prompt,” he says firmly, tapping the flat of his palm on the desk with finality. You take the cue, getting up and slinging your purse over your shoulder, but inwardly your stomach is a riot of sawdust.

Are you reading this wrong? All of your teenage aspirations to be swept off of your feet by a rich, handsome man feel like lead weights at the bottom of your shoes. Steve Rogers’ reputation is sterling, and despite your less-than-angelic daydreams, you don’t want to come across like a gold-digger. Even if you are strapped for cash.

Rogers opens the door for you. The front door. The front door of his business. It’s heady and confusing, even more confusing when a slick silver car pulls up and a valet hands him the keys.

“You look like you either need sunglasses or smelling salts,” he says gently.

“A neck brace,” you quip. “For the whiplash.”

His smile is sheepish as he opens the car door for you. “That’s fair.”

The car is cinematically nice inside, and you suppress the desperate desire to pinch yourself until you wake up as he gets in and adjusts the seat for his height. He doesn’t look over at you, which your adrenaline-drunk mind can’t decide is good or bad.

Then he does, and all you can do is smile back at him.

“A confession: I cribbed some of those lines.” Rogers eases the car out into traffic and lets out a long breath. “From Bu-- a friend of mine. Advice on how to be in charge and ask out a subordinate at the same time.” He stops at a red light and shoots a look over at you. “How’d I do?”

You kind of want that neck brace, but despite the trappings, you’re really enjoying who this man is turning out to be. “That depends. Do you want me to be turned upside down and sideways?”

That earns you a look akin to the one he sent you when you’d called him ‘sir.’ You shiver, and he notices. “I don’t think you want to know what his advice might be on the answer to that question! How about ‘maybe?’”

“Maybe is good,” you manage.

“Glad to hear it. What would you like? Italian? Deli?” Rogers looks over and catches his breath like he’d forgotten his wallet. “An invite to lunch without your employment on the line? I’m sorry about that. I got--” He looks back at the road, hands tight on the steering wheel. “--carried away.”

His candid mix of charm and command are sweeping you completely off your feet, tarnished halo and all. “I don’t think I have time to phone a friend for a better answer, but is ‘maybe’ still good?”

Your sister would walk her ass to the car to smack you if she knew you’d just told the CEO of your new company you’re a ‘maybe’ for a one-on-one ‘maybe’ date with him. You suspect his friend would be facepalming, too.

“Your job isn’t on the line, I promise. I’d never misuse power like that--” He breaks off from his serious tone, looks down at his suit and the fancy car you’re both sitting in, and chuckles. “All evidence to the contrary.”

The whole situation is absurd, unrealistic, completely romantic, and everything you’ve always wanted.

You’re going to wake up any minute now.

Rogers looks over and raises his eyebrows. You realize with embarrassment that he wants you to either tell him where he can stuff his lunch invitation, or where the two of you can go eat.

“I got carried away too,” you rush to say. “Yes to lunch. No maybes in sight.”

“You’re forgiven,” he smiles.

Part 2

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #fluff #CEO AU #meet cute #captain america x reader #captain america #steve rogers #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #captain america x you #captain america x f!reader #humor

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waughymommy · 5 months ago

Text

Mommy Knows Best

Chapter 1

Rebecca Sullivan plugged in the vacuum cleaner and set about cleaning the master bedroom. As she pushed the vacuum to reach under the bed, she hit something she wasn’t expecting. She quickly turned off the vacuum and got down on her hands and knees to investigate. Looking under the bedframe, she discovered a box she had not seen before. She pulled out and looked inside. To her complete surprise it was a full of baby supplies. There were bottles and pacifiers, diapers and onesies. But something was odd. No baby was big enough to fit into any of the diapers. They were huge. She unfolded a baby blue onesie and held it up. She thought to herself my god this would fit a grown man. Is my husband secretly a baby? Is this why he has never wanted to have kids? What the hell? She left the set the box on the bed and returned to cleaning up the bedroom. Brian would be home soon and would have some explaining to do.

He threw his briefcase in the passenger seat and hopped in his car. He ran his hands through is hair, tired and stressed out. All he wanted to do was get home to wife and have a quiet Friday night in. Brian worked for a major marketing company. It was a great paying job, but he often worked long hours, sometimes well into the evening. The stress could just be too much at times. He turned on the radio, rolled the windows down and tried to forget about his work as he drove home. A short drive later and he was rolling into his garage. He stepped out and cast a glance at all the power tools sitting on the shelf. These were all the things that made him feel like a man. Things that made him try and ignore the child that dwelled within. He hoped that by doing all the things guys are supposed to like, he could hide the secret that he still yearned to be little, to be cared for. He loved his wife dearly and had tried so many times to tell her, but every time he tried, his nerves failed him. They had been together for ten years. They had built a life together. He had climbed the ladder in his company which afforded him all the luxuries of life he wanted Rebecca to have. In providing for them both, maybe that childish fantasy would go away. But yet, he still fantasized that one day, she would make him her baby. However that was a fantasy and this was real life. He took a deep breath and walked into the house.

As he stepped through the threshold, he noticed the pleasant aroma of dinner. Rebecca heard the door opened and turned around with a bright smile. It was the smile that had smitten him all those years ago. She embraced him in a warm hug, kissing him on the cheek. “There is my big, hardworking man. Come sit and I will get you a drink sweetheart. Dinner is just about ready.” Brian didn’t object, sitting at the table and took a big sip of the Jack and Coke she placed in front of him. “My god honey, I needed a drink. It was just meeting after meeting. I’m pretty sure my brain has turned to mush. I’m going to try and forget about work until Monday,” Brian lamented. She soon retuned with their plates and the two enjoyed their dinner. He soon finished his drink and she quicky poured him another. “After dinner sweetheart, let me take care of you. Let me help my baby boy relax and unwind, she said in a syrupy sweet tone. He was a bit taken aback by “baby boy,” but he was too tired to really care.

“Here sweetheart, have one more drink and go sit in your comfy chair while I clean up. I will come get you when I’m ready for you.” Ready for what he thought. “Um ok, honey. Thank you for making such a wonderful dinner. I am so lucky that I have you to take care of me,” he replied. She smiled and said, “Of course.” Brian walked into his den and plopped down into his favorite chair. The drinks were starting to kick and soon he was nodding off to sleep. “Is my baby boy sleepy?” she asked while caressing his hand. He opened his eyes and mumbled some apology for falling asleep. “Its ok baby boy. Come with me and we will get you all cozy.” She led him by his hand back to their bedroom. His grogginess soon turned to panic when he laid eyes on his box sitting on the bed. Oh god. I am so fucked. I have no way to get out of this now. He chest grew tight and he felt like he might be sick. For decades, he had managed to keep his secret quiet. Rebecca quickly sensed his apprehension and squeezed his hand. “It’s ok sweetheart, trust me. Everything is all ok. There is no need to scare. I know my big man needs to be taken care of,” she said with such a maternal tone. “Now lay down on the bed for me. You don’t need to say anything. I know you want this. Brian, I know you want to be a baby, I found all of your stuff. I am not mad, I promise. You know I have wanted a baby for years. And maybe that time is here.” Rebecca looked down on him, seeing his eyes dart all over the room. He was scared. She knew he was filled with guilt and embarrassment. Brian thrived on being able to take care of her. “I want to be able to do this for you, but this is the only time I will make this offer. So if you want to accept this, you don’t need to say anything. All you need to do is place your thumb in your mouth and start sucking and mommy will know that you are going to be her little baby boy.”

Brian closed his eyes, as tears rolled down his cheeks. He felt horrified and excited all at the same time. His heart was racing. What do I do? This is my only chance. This is what you have always wanted. Trust her and let go. You need this. He opened his eyes and looked at his wife’s smiling face. He took a deep breath and slowly curled his fingers into his palm. He lifted his hand to his face and placed his thumb in his mouth. There he did it. Rebecca beamed, “Oh mommy is going to take such good care of my baby.” She slowly unbuttoned his shirt and then moved onto his pants. She removed all of his clothes until he was lying completely naked on the bed. She reached into the box and produced his pacifier, “I know you want your binky honey.” Returning to the box, she pulled out one of his diapers. “Get that sweet little tushy up baby,” as she slid the diaper under his bottom. The smell of baby powder seemed to put him in a trance as he sucked harder on his pacifier. She taped up the diaper, making sure it was secure. She kissed his exposed belly and then climbed up onto her side of the bed. “Come here cutie. Let me hold my baby.” He quickly complied with her demand. He laid his head on her chest, feeling her soft bosom. He let out a sigh and melted into her. He was now her baby. A tear escaped her. She had her baby. But she wasn’t content to just pretend. If she was going to be a real mommy, he needed to be a real baby. She ran her fingers through his hair and floated off to sleep.

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hiding-in-the-vault · 26 days ago

Note

How about you share that au

OH OK SINCE U ASKED

here's half of everything I wrote exactly 1 year ago for le sci-fi au. (the other half needs work ,,, )

about 1.5k

Sapnap groaned from the light filtering in through his apartment window. His eyes cracked open in a scowl as it took in the bright glow of an energy drink advertisement staring back at him. He pushed himself off the bed, limbs aching, and sluggishly marched to the window.

With his hands curling into the curtains, he spared a moment to look outside, quietly cursing the stupid fucking flying billboard that just had to stop right in front of his window. The large rectangular ships with flashing commercials on the sides don't usually make their rounds here until noon.

He pulled the curtains closed and turned back to his darkened apartment with a huff. The clock above his cluttered desk flickered.

12:23

Well shit, that would explain it.

Sapnap arched his back in a long, arduous stretch, limbs then falling him to his sides with a heavy sigh. Another day, another few hundred credits wasted on a lost cause.

No, shut up. Not a lost cause.

Holding back a series of sharp, colorful curses, Sapnap got washed up and dressed for the half of the day that remained. Within a few minutes, he left his room and stepped into the hall.

Across from him was the other bedroom. The door was closed and it had been like that for almost a week now. He couldn't bring himself to step inside. The sight of it alone returned a sharp pang of hurt and regret to his chest. He frowned and kept walking.

It was a medium sized apartment and cost a fortune, but that was thankfully not something he had to worry about much since moving in. They had the luxurious possession of two washrooms, in addition to the decent kitchen and living space. It was comfortable, which was a lot more than most people living in the center of the city could say. But compared to the true wealth that existed in the capitol, they were living in squalor, still cramped into a massive supercomplex with a few thousand people stacked on top of each other, hundreds of floors into the sky and some below the ground as well. They were up on floor 102, but there was no value in that when the only view they had was of the hulking complex that towered next door.

Dishes have been stacking up the past few days. Looking at the filled sink lit only by sunlight that drifted in from the living room window, Sapnap still couldn't bring himself to clean it up. He ignored the mess and dug around the fridge. He needed to go shopping.

Frozen pizza for mid-day breakfast would have to do.

…

An hour later, Sapnap had returned to the scene of the crime. The place that was the source of all his problems.

Schlatt & Co., Security Solutions Incorporated.

Dream did loads of research into the place when they were preparing for the operation. He had rambled off most of what he learned, and Sapnap was wishing he payed closer attention now that he was at the front doors, looking up at it.

It was a large cooperate building, maybe a hundred floors tall, tinted glass and shiny metal on all sides. It was meant to look secure and intimidating, fitting for a company that dealt in financial and private security.

He was on the nicer side of town, where they could afford to grow real flowerbeds around the outdoor courtyard just beyond the steps to the entrance. He pretended to admire them as he tried to work up his nerve.

Five days ago, Dream walked into that building and he never walked out.

Sapnap had been outside at the time, being a damn good distraction as Dream snuck in. He looked back on that night and wondered what he should have done different.

With the inside contact they were in communication with, the plan was foolproof. He had no idea what went wrong. It was supposed to be an easy escape, but apparently they had overlooked something. And now Dream was paying the price.

Maybe he wasn't even alive anymore. Maybe Sapnap was wasting his time. Maybe-

He ripped himself away from the stupid flowers. Shut up. He needed to try.

Every day since that awful night, Sapnap had been casing the place and asking around. They had contacts everywhere- or rather, Dream had contacts everywhere, and Sapnap had been hassling them for information. This was supposed to be the circle of the city's most well-connected information brokers, but no one knew a fucking thing. There have been no transport trucks seen for a week, no change in building security, not a single breath within the building was out of line.

He was getting desperate. He had half a mind to run in there and start breaking shit until someone important came out to stop him. Then he could simply ask: what the fuck did you do with Dream!?

Hyping himself up, Sapnap anxiously cracked his knuckles and started moving for the concrete steps. As he got close, the glass doors slid open. Inside was the receptionist area and the usual lobby décor; pointless couches and coffee tables, and that faux-leather scent of cooperate bullshit.

Before he could step past the threshold, his phone buzzed. He paused in the doorway and pulled it out, having to do a double-take at the semi-transparent screen and the text that looked back at him.

404: Stop

His breath hitched in his throat and Sapnap quickly turned on his heel, hurrying back the way he came. Alarm bells were ringing in his head and his pulse was suddenly racing. He anxiously looked around the courtyard and settled for slipping down the path between Schlatt Inc.'s next door neighbor, feeling slightly safer once he was out of sight of the looming building.

Sapnap: wtf

Sapnap: where the fuck have you been

Sapnap: everything went to shit

404: Don't do anything stupid

He was hoping for more than that. Sapnap sent a few more texts, urging the man on the other side for answers, but he didn't get an answer for all of the ten minutes he sat there.

While the silence only further annoyed him, it was also comforting to know that their contact on the inside hadn't completely ghosted them. After Dream's disappearance, Sapnap was outraged and assumed the worse, especially when none of his pleas for info got him anything in return. 404 was usually pretty quick was responding up to the night of the operation, but then afterwards, nothing.

But he was still alive, and he was still watching. That was something. (Although still unnerving.)

He sat against the wall with a heavy exhale for a few moments longer.

Sapnap: please tell me if Dreams alive

He stared at the screen for a minute, fought the urge the throw it against the opposing wall when there was no response, then tucked the phone into his pocket.

They hadn't known 404 for long; a few months proceeding the operation, maybe. They knew he worked at Schlatt & Co. as a system developer, or something like that. Computer stuff. He was already acquainted with the third party that hired Dream and him to sneak inside, and was asked to help get them inside. They didn't know a single personal detail about the guy, but he was funny in a dry sort of way, occasionally throwing out an unhinged comment that would leave them struggling to breathe from laughter. Sapnap liked him. But if 404 was withholding information about Dream now, there would be hell to pay.

Or maybe he was just keeping his distance while the company was on high alert.

Either way, Sapnap needed more info soon before he did something he would regret.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dream woke to a hand on his jaw and a bright light in his face.

His head was turned forcibly to the side, irritating an existing ache in his neck. He groaned and squint through the light, unable to make out the blurry face in front of him.

Movement flickered in front of his eyes, cutting the harsh light in and out. He flinched away from it, jaw tense.

“...eyes still damaged?”

“...replace them.”

“No.”

“Sam?”

“... Carefully. I can't let this one die. If something goes wrong-”

“Nothing will go wrong. We've done plenty of tests.”

“It's still in experimental stages.”

The hand from his jaw fell with the figure moving out of view. Dream's head swam without the steady hold keeping him still.

“Put him back under. Try again.”

A sharp spike of fear burst in Dream's chest. He reeled back and shook his shoulders, finding his arms restrained at his side. He didn't know why he was afraid, he didn't know who was around him or where he was, but some small instinctual voice in his aching head knew this was bad.

That was the last thought he was able to register before fading out.

#vault asks #vault writes #scifi au #resisting the urge to call myself cringe #i shall NOT #i love scifi nonsense words #i always get squirmy about sharing writing rahhhg

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interpolanticssuperfan · 1 year ago

Text

nothing natural | ken x fem!reader | part 1 | 18+ only

warnings: this will eventually contain smut so please be mindful. part of my goal is to explore ken developing a relationship with a human who struggles with their own vices, and doesn't feel qualified to teach him how to be human. i'd consider this slow burn with obviously eventual relationship fluff and smut (this includes ken doing things like drinking alcohol for the first time, having sexual experiences for the first time, etc.) not sure how many parts this will be but i will keep everyone updated!

also - my main is @snuffbby i just didnt feel comfortable posting it there, but you can follow me there if you want to chat or ask questions about this ongoing work. thanks <3 <3

Meeting Ken was actually a complete and unforeseen fluke – not on your part, it’s not like you were looking for him.

Frankly, you weren’t looking for anything at this point in your life. Burnt out, at the end of your rope with men and content to enjoy your own company in the comfort of your apartment, happy to work your menial clerical job for the rest of your life until a better paying career fell into your lap.

Or whatever.

You didn’t really care. As odd as it sounded, you were thankful right now for boring. For humdrum chores, for cleaning the kitchen and brainlessly answering emails for eight hours a day until your joints ached.

Having been out of college for four years now, you’d put in a decent tenure at your current company doing data entry. It wasn’t challenging and afforded you plenty of freedom in your schedule. That being said, most days were seamless copies of one another – wake up, feed your guinea pig, stretch on the tiny sliver of patio out front, then head to the library down the road to work until your eyes crossed from screen fatigue.

Nothing really ever changed. Yogurt for breakfast every morning. Repeated motions of the only three yoga poses you knew. Even your guinea pig seemed to look at you with confusion sometimes when you fed her, tiny eyes ogling up at you from her spacious enclosure.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you’d mutter, dropping in romaine lettuce and pellets for her. And after every complaint, she would twirl in a circle, waiting for her daily brushing.

The library was a godsend on these hot summer days, air conditioned and quiet. You didn’t even need headphones, but preferred them to focus. The secretary stopped asking if she could help you find anything when she realized you’d become a regular patron of the modern looking white table near the massive windows.

“Good morning, Pat,” you’d smile as you passed, and she’d give you a little wave, usually on the phone with someone or engrossed in a book of her own.

Updating spreadsheets. Notifying supervisors of progress. Nearly nodding off at eleven thirty. It had been shaping up to be an entirely normal, predictable, cut and dry day. Until a silhouette by the front desk grew bigger, approaching your peripheral and then flat out startling you. Numbers and figures had started to blur together, so you blinked hard and shut your laptop – just to find an incredibly curious sight across from you.

Sat comfortable and cross-legged in the opposing chair was one of, if not the most objectively attractive men you’d ever seen in your entire life. Pretty in a way that bordered on unnatural, like a living sculpture. A long, denim-clad arm splayed out lazily along the back of the chair.

This man gave you a calculated yet warm smirk that danced across his features. Bleached blonde like a model and face angled, glazed in sunlight that inched through the windows. He was something straight out of a fairytale – picturesque, almost glowing.

Where had he come from?

“Is this seat taken?” Inexplicably you felt the back of your neck heating up, a ring of sweat forming around your collar where your necklace was clasped. It seemed to sear into your skin as you fumbled over your words, deciding what to say to the stranger who’d placed himself in front of you like an apparition.

“I… no, I’m here by myself. Working, I’m, uh. Just working.” Strangely, you noticed him make a fist to himself, concealed partly by the table, but his gesture of victory was obvious, as if he’d just won a bet or something. The blonde composed himself then with a twitch of his neck, nodding evenly, instantaneously cool as a cucumber again. His bright blue eyes studied you, your laptop and planner on the desk, your bag hanging across the arm of the chair. You’d never needed the air conditioning to be effective more so than this moment. Crank it way up – igloo this place all the way.

“Excellent. My name’s Ken.” Big blue eyes finally locking with yours, he puffed his chest out, like a purple and green speckled peacock trying to attract a mate with his confidence, his easy bravado. Though it was difficult to ignore the openness – the curiosity in his eyes as he took you in.

Like it was his first time talking to a woman, or at least trying to do… whatever he was doing right now with you.

You felt that your instincts would warn you if this neatly manicured man was making you uneasy or frightened, but you didn’t notice an inkling of displeasure. On the contrary, it was almost electrifying to be stared at like this. Flattering.

Had been months, almost a year since anyone paid attention to you like this.

“Ken?” Unable to stop the laugh, you tilted your head sideways, scooting your chair back to get a better look at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a Ken. Wait – I’m sorry, that’s not true. My dad’s boss was named Ken. But you wouldn’t, um. You wouldn’t know him. At least I don’t think so, I have no idea where you’re from. He was an engineer, this senior engineer for a huge company in New Jersey… we don’t keep in touch, he’s sort of an asshole.” You found yourself rambling on as you drank this surprising man in, freely sharing details about yourself without even telling him your name first.

But what an interesting view he was. Painted still with this deeply intoxicating smile, pupils darting and eager like an energetic puppy.

“I am not from New Jersey. But I’m sorry the other Ken was – what did you call him?”

“An... asshole?”

“Yes, I’m sorry he was that.” Your long winded introduction didn’t seem to bother him one bit. He kept his gaze unmoving right on your face, like he was terrified to break eye contact.

You eyed his white cowboy boots (did people still wear those?), black leather pants that hugged his legs like a gift from the heavens, and a long sleeved white denim jacket that appeared to be cropped, revealing just a hint of his lower stomach, and when you caught your eyes lingering for just too long on the tanned patch of skin peeking out, you sighed, shutting yourself up.

You couldn’t shake one thing, though; leather and denim on a day like this? It was nearly ninety outside, you remembered, and cocked your head at him.

“Oh, I was talking about my dad, not his boss. And I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“A lovely name for a lovely lady,” Ken replied, studying you to gauge your reaction to his compliment. It was clear Ken was attempting to hit on you, and it was equal parts unfamiliar and gratifying.

“Thank you. I’ve never had anyone say that about my name.” Ken winced as if shot through the heart, his flawless eyebrows flying up to his flawless hairline, and he clutched at the buttons on his jacket. This display would have probably seemed incredibly dramatic on any other man, but for some reason it read as… serious on Ken.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You shook your head. “I’m not.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

“Well, I really appreciate your honesty, Ken.”

“It’s no problem at all. I would never lie to you. Not in a hundred million years.”

Very heartfelt words coming from someone you’ve known for all of… four minutes, generously.

You quirked your head, caught off guard by his comment. “I… thank you. If you don’t mind me asking, what brought you over… here? To sit with me, I mean?”

This caused a beam to unfold across Ken’s face, and he leaned back in the chair, perching his chin up so as to look professional. “Can I tell you the truth?”

“Well. Yes, I’d like that.”

“I saw you here last week. On – what’s the one that starts with an ‘F’?” Ken screwed his eyes shut, scanning his brain meticulously for a piece of very common, everyday information.

This is a bizarre way to flirt with someone for the first time, you thought to yourself, bewilderment sinking into your gut as you helpfully offered, “Friday?”

“Yes! That’s it. Friday,” He uttered to himself and dropped his eyes, seemingly making a mental note. “So, I saw you here Friday. You were getting a book from right over there.” Ken pointed to the magazine rack nestled against the front desk that you once in awhile perused when the weekend approached, for lack of anything better to do at home.

You had checked out a magazine last Friday, in fact, after you clocked out for the day and packed up your things. It wasn’t anything special, just a stupid crossword puzzle collection with a recipe for a quiche you wanted to try making.

“You saw me on Friday and didn’t say anything?”

“Exactly. You got the magazine, and then you walked home, and I didn’t know what to say because you were already inside. So then I walked back here – the library – and waited in case you came back. But that rude lady up there told me they were closing at nine, so I had to leave. Actually, she told me a little more than that. She said that I couldn’t loiter, whatever that is, but I was free to check out a book, so I asked her what book you had just gotten. But she didn’t want to tell me that for some reason.”

Ken recounted this like he was describing the weather with a colleague, just simple, redundant water cooler talk. Your jaw hung open in disbelief. Was he being serious? You’d finished work at four thirty. He sat here, allegedly for hours until it closed?

He’d followed you home?

Before you could interject with a dozen questions flying through your mind, Ken continued.

“Anyway, I thought about walking back to your house �� and you have a big house, by the way! I had a feeling you would. You seem like a very successful lady. That’s why I had to meet you. Successful, captivating, beautiful, I couldn’t just go all the way back to Barbieland after I saw you!”

Had he mistook your apartment complex to be something you owned? And – what did he just say?

“Go back. To Barbieland.” You stated, smile faltering quicker than Ken managed to absolutely stun you with his fanatical tale.

“Right? I knew you would understand. I just knew you would, (Y/N)! Not to mention how long it took me to get here in the first place. So after security kicked me out –”

“Hold on, I’m sorry. I just… Ken?”

“Yes, my dove?” Ken’s taken to periodically toying with his jacket in positions that display his pronounced biceps. It’s endearing. It’s distracting. He’s stiflingly mesmerizing.

“Okay. Can we back up for a moment?”

Ken’s wide eyes regard you with infinite patience, wisps of his almost silver-like bangs falling against his brow bone. You remember that it’s only noon, and you’re still technically on the clock. In fact, your supervisor is almost certainly trying to get ahold of you for his midday rounds, checking on your team’s progress for the day.

“Ask me anything you want. I am an open book. Especially for you.” He enunciates each syllable, adoring eyes raking over you again, and it’s beginning to feel a bit too much – and there’s a lot more information you need to derive from Ken before you can backpedal to… introductions and amicable conversation. (Not to mention the curling heat that’s pooling in your lower abdomen the more Ken devours you visually. He may have just dropped a bomb on you, yes, but he’s… well. He’s bewitching, alluring in a fashion that’s barely comprehensible.)

“Right. Here’s where I’m at. With all of this. I am very flattered by you, and your… dedication to finding me.”

Ken’s grin overtakes his face, eye lines wrinkling with complete satisfaction. You almost forget your next words, forget to draw a line in the sand with this (gorgeous) stranger who’s just admitted to essentially stalking you.

But somehow, the pit in your stomach ceases its knotting when you meet his honest cobalt eyes. Not a hint of malice behind them, not a shred of ill intention. Not for the first time since you’d met Ken, you’re astounded that with any other man this behavior would scare you, probably compel you to call the police, even. Maybe you’d misjudged him.

He forgot the word for Friday, for Christ’s sake.

But then there was this talk about traveling a long way to come here… about Barbie? This didn’t sit right with you, and the concept that Ken might be mentally unwell dawned on you, though he seemed coherent and relatively well spoken. Just a half hour ago you’d been toiling away with spreadsheets, and now you were silently cataloging all psychiatric facilities within a ten mile radius, wondering if a man of average height and average build could walk that far on a sweltering hot day. And still look, for lack of a better word, perfect.

As you sat agonizing over the right words to say, Ken merely watched with his hands in his lap, boot tapping against his knee with no discernible rhythm. Patient with an emotion akin to devotion swimming through his watchful gaze.

“Ken… where are you staying?”

“What do you mean?”

“Where have you been staying while you’ve been in town? Do you live around here?”

Ken smirked again, leaned in close to you, resting his elbows on your work laptop. “There’s that humor I like about you. Silly girl. I already told you, I live in Barbieland. It takes me seven hours to get here!”

“Okay. Right. So, let’s try this. Friday when I went home and you came back here. You remember that?”

“Uh huh,” Ken bobbed his head with sincerity, unfazed by this line of questioning, not picking up on how perturbed you’d grown.

“Where did you sleep that night? Do you know anyone here?”

Ken took his bottom lip in between his teeth, thoughtfully chewed on it. “Besides you, I don’t think so. The book lady who kicked me out doesn’t count as knowing someone. Right?”

“...Probably not. So where did you sleep?” You didn’t have the heart to tell Ken he didn’t really know you.

“I didn’t.”

“Sleep. You didn’t sleep?”

“No one’s asked me that before. I don’t really… get tired.” This confession strikes you as highly strange.

Your head began to feel fuzzy, and you guessed it wasn’t from skipping breakfast this morning. At least the sweat on your back had finally dried, and you inhaled deeply, trying not to startle Ken with your obvious worries.

“How about we do this. As you can see, I’m working right now,” you open your hand towards your long forgotten computer. “Well, I was working. And I’m not done for a few hours. But I think that we need to sit and talk about… everything. That you’ve told me.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll just wait here with you until you’re done! Look – I wanted to show you this. I even got a book before you got here.” Ken seems excited to share, so you purse your lips, watch him as he procures a book from underneath his chair.

Ken holds out and frames a well worn paperback titled “Misty of Chincoteague”, frayed at the edges and featuring a wistful painting of a horse on the cover. For some reason, this childlike display of wonder touches you, and against all reason you’d ever acquired throughout your life, something nags at your conscience to trust this strange man – something tells you, like a mantra beating in time with your heart, that this man is not a threat to you, he is not going to hurt you.

“Are you a horse lover?”

“I’m more of a horse admirer… they intrigue me,” Ken quips, scanning your face again to see how you’re reacting to him. He seems to be at once keenly self aware and simultaneously oblivious to how he sounds – how he’s received by others. This man is a conundrum, made up of so many conflicting personality traits and mannerisms that don’t belong together but mesh nonetheless.

And, you tell yourself, you’re still giving him your undivided attention.

“I wouldn’t have guessed that about you.”

“Really?” Ken’s act of unbothered macho-man seems to slip slightly as his eyes bulge, intently seeking for validation, wanting to hear you talk more about him, your impression of him so far. Maybe this is the way to get more information out of him, you realize, so you humor him.

“Not at all, Ken. Tell you what – why don’t you come back with me to my ap… my house, and you can tell me more about the things you like? Would you like that?”

In the minutes since you’d begun talking to him, Ken shone brighter than ever, practically buzzing with enthusiasm, gilded with a golden halo from the unrepentant sun as he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Perfect. You lead the way, I’m ready whenever you are!”

#ken #barbie movie #ryan gosling #ken x reader #ryan gosling ken #ken x fem reader #ken barbie #female reader

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bradshawsbaby · 2 years ago

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afternoon delight

pairing: rhett abbott x girlfriend!reader

author’s note: this idea has been rolling around in my head for a while, and all the recent lew content has given me the push i needed to finally write it. i’ve been in a bit of a rut with my writing lately, so i’m just glad to be able to get this out of my system!

warnings: 18+ for explicit sexual content (semi-public sex and nearly getting caught), language, a healthy dose of fluff

Nothing was more boring than working the afternoon shift at your parents’ general store.

Well, maybe that wasn’t exactly true.

Nothing was more boring than working the afternoon shift at your parents’ general store alone.

At least when Moira or Kayla shared a shift with you, there was time for some idle chitchat and laughter. But it was a few weeks yet before the spring semester was over and the girls would return home from college for the summer, so today you were on your own.

And you were bored.

It wasn’t that nobody in Wabang visited the store in the early afternoon hours, but there was definitely a lull in the already slow activity once lunchtime rolled around. Most people in town headed home around noon for a quick snatch of respite and sustenance. That, or they headed to The Handsome Gambler for a liquid lunch. Either way, their minds certainly weren’t on buying a new shovel or a few cans of paint.

So the store remained virtually empty as the bright afternoon sun reached its zenith in the wide open sky, and you were left dusting the already clean shelves for what felt like the hundredth time since you’d arrived. Your parents would have been there working with you, but they’d taken a drive to visit one of their suppliers.

“You’ll be alright on your own for a few hours, won’t you, sweetheart?” your mama had asked before she and your dad left.

It was a rhetorical question and you both knew it. Besides the fact that your parents were already well aware there’d be hardly any customers in their absence, you’d also grown up in the store and knew how it operated like the back of your hand.

“I’ll be fine, Mama,” you assured her, waving as they headed out the door. “See ya’ll later.”

And you were fine. You were just so bored you thought you might lose your mind.

Tapping your fingers absentmindedly on the countertop near the register, you glanced down at where your phone sat, silent and still. You’d toyed with the idea of calling Rhett and asking him to come keep you company, but you knew that wasn’t fair. He had a lot to do on the ranch, especially at this time of year, and he couldn’t afford to play hooky just to keep you entertained at work. Besides, he’d already promised to take you out to dinner tonight. As much as you missed him, you knew you’d just have to be patient.

Huffing out a decidedly impatient breath, you stepped over to the ancient radio your father had refused to part with and fiddled with the knobs until you landed on a radio station you were satisfied with. At least now the silence in the store wouldn’t feel so deafening. You couldn’t help but grin as a new song began, the mildly familiar tune swirling in the warm air, among the dustmotes and beams of light spilling in from the large glass windows at the front of the store. You didn’t even know the name of it, but you knew it had been playing on the radio the other night when Rhett took you out to go stargazing, the two of you lying in the bed of his truck and lazily pointing out various constellations in between whispered words and slow kisses.

Your mood brightening considerably at the memory, you began humming softly under your breath as you decided to take the time you had to yourself to restock some of the shelves in the back of the store. Stepping into the back room, you grabbed a new box full of deodorant and shampoo and dragged it towards one of the shelves along the back wall. You were so focused on lining the shelves in the orderly manner your mother had taught you that you were caught off guard by the sound of the front door opening, the small bell tinkling to announce the arrival of a customer.

“I’ll be right with you!” you called out, your back to the entrance of the store as you reached for the last couple bottles of strawberry-scented shampoo. You smiled to yourself when you remembered the time Cecilia had come in and bought a whole case of it at a discounted price. Rhett had smelled like strawberries for over a month. Not that you minded one bit.

So caught up in the vividness of that memory were you that you didn’t register the heavy footfalls making their way down the aisle until a familiar pair of muscular arms were snaking their way around your waist and the stubbled face you loved more than anything was pressing against yours.

“Mmm, and what if I’m in a hurry and too impatient to wait for you up there, huh?” Rhett’s husky voice whispered low in your ear, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine as his lips ghosted over your cheek.

“Rhett!” you gasped in surprised pleasure, dropping the shampoo bottle you’d been holding without a backward glance as you turned around and faced your boyfriend head on. He looked exceptionally rugged and handsome in his Stetson and Wranglers, the sleeves of the plaid shirt he was wearing rolled up to the elbows, revealing his sunkissed forearms, the ones that made you feel so safe whenever they were wrapped around you.

“Heya, honeybee,” he grinned in that way that had you mentally pinching yourself to remind you that he was real and not just a figment of your wildest dreams. Pushing his hat back with one calloused finger, he lowered his head to plant a slow, lingering kiss on your lips.

“What are you doing here?” you breathed out once he finally pulled back, your eyes half-lidded and your brain feeling a little fuzzy.

“Now what kind of greeting is that when I drove all the way out here to see you?” Rhett teased, reaching out and resting his hand on the shelf behind your head so that he was leaning over you slightly.

You smirked in return, not minding at all the close proximity of his hard, muscled body. “Do Royal and Perry know you’re sneaking off like this?” you asked with a chuckle, one of your fingers trailing lazily along the buttons on his shirt.

“My mom had to take Amy to a doctor’s appointment, so I told them I’d drive into town and pick up some lunch,” he explained, running a hand down your bare arm. You’d worn one of your favorite sundresses today—one that just so happened to be Rhett’s favorite, too—which left your arms and a good portion of your chest exposed to your boyfriend’s hungry gaze. Food clearly wasn’t the only thing on his mind. “I think they figure I’ll be a little while,” he added with a suggestive wink, which made your cheeks grow warm instinctively.

“Hmm, and I was just thinking to myself how lonely things were getting around here. You’ve got some timing, Abbott,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him down to you, kissing him deeply.

Rhett responded in kind, a low groan escaping his mouth as his arms wrapped around you and he pressed you tightly to his chest. As the kiss grew more intense, his tongue snaking out to brush against your bottom lip and beg entrance into your mouth, the two of you stumbled backwards, your back slamming up against the shelves you’d just been painstakingly restocking and upending an entire row of men’s deodorant, sending them crashing to the floor.

With low moans of both yearning and frustration, the two of you broke apart and glanced down at the mess you’d made.

“I’ll clean it up later,” you panted with an indifferent shrug of your shoulders, your lips seeking his once more.

“Damnit, honeybee,” Rhett moaned as you bit down gently on his bottom lip, his hands reaching up to play with the straps of your sundress. “You just had to wear this of all things?” he murmured, his voice thick and husky with want.

“Thought you’d like it for dinner tonight,” you whispered, smiling against his mouth.

He threw his head back slightly, which granted you access to his exposed throat. “Like it right now,” he ground out, his fingers running through your hair as you nipped and sucked on his neck. “Fuck, baby, I need you. Right now,” he practically growled, holding you closer so that you could feel just how intense his need was.

“Not here,” you told him, glancing over his shoulder. “Someone might walk in.” You could feel his heart thrumming in his chest, could hear the unsteady rhythm of his breathing. Your own heart was beating wildly, your body aching with just as much need as his. “Come help me with something in the back,” you told him with a mischievous grin, taking his hand and leading him into the back supply room, making sure to close the door firmly behind you.

It wasn’t a huge room, but it felt even smaller with Rhett standing in it, his large, powerfully built frame the only thing your eyes could focus on.

His gaze was fixed on you as well, his blue eyes blazing as he looked at you. He only broke eye contact for a moment to glance around the room, a smile curving his lips as his eyes darted back to your face.

“Never imagined we’d be fooling around in here, honeybee,” he murmured, his pulse racing at the very notion of taking you in the back of your parents’ store, a store which anyone from town could walk into at any moment.

“Do you not want to?” you asked, chewing on your bottom lip and twisting your hand in the folds of your dress.

“Oh, make no mistake, baby,” Rhett rasped, stepping closer to you. “I want to.” His eyes were serious as he suddenly wrapped his hands around your hips and lifted you up onto the wooden worktable that sat behind you, spreading your legs so that he could step between them. “I want to,” he said again, burying his fingers in your hair as he kissed you like a starving man.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” you breathed out, rubbing your body against his and kicking your sandals off so that they fell to the floor. “Someone could—I mean anyone might—”

“Honeybee, trust me,” he cut you off, resting his forehead against yours. “The way you got me goin’, I don’t need much time.”

You mewled softly in response, turned on by his words as he lowered his head to kiss you once more. You were desperate to run your fingers through his hair, but his hat was in the way. Moaning softly against his lips, you reached up and tugged it off his head. For a moment, you considered dropping it next to you on the table, but then a better idea struck you. Smirking slightly, you dropped his hat right on top of your head, feeling the way his body went taut beneath your palms.

“Honeybee,” he grunted, his work-roughened fingers digging into your waist through the fabric of your dress. “You’re really determined to make me lose my damn mind, aren’t you?”

“Come on, cowboy,” you whispered teasingly, your tongue flicking out against his lower lip. “Clock’s ticking.”

Your words seemed to flip some kind of switch in his mind because suddenly he was pulling you to the edge of the table, his hands less than gentle as he shoved your dress up, bunching it around your waist. Slipping his hand between your legs, he pushed your panties to the side and swiped two fingers up your slit without preamble.

“Fuck,” he panted under his breath, his head falling forward to lean against your shoulder. “Already soaking wet for me, honeybee,” he moaned, pressing a kiss to your bare skin just to the right of your dress strap.

You just gasped out his name in response, your arms tightening around him, which spurred him to slip both those fingers inside you, curling them against your spongy walls in a way that had you struggling to catch your next breath.

“Rhett,” you whimpered, burying your face in the crook of his neck as his fingers pumped in and out of you at a relentless pace. He smelled like sweat and sun and the Wyoming earth. He smelled like Rhett. And there was nothing that aroused you more.

“Sh, sh, I got you, baby. I’m gonna take care of my girl,” he murmured softly, peppering your temple and the side of your face with kisses.

“Need you,” you gasped, fisting your hand in the front of his plaid work shirt. “Need you inside me. Now,” you begged, your pulse racing in your veins as the temperature in the back room steadily climbed.

Rhett didn’t put up any argument, his fingers sliding out of you as he reached for the waistband of your panties and tugged them down your legs, leaving the soft scrap of fabric dangling around your ankles, all while you reached for the belt at his waist, unbuckling it with lithe fingers before making quick work of the button and zipper of his jeans.

“Damn, honeybee, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you move so quickly. Like lightning,” Rhett chuckled hoarsely, pressing a sloppy kiss to your mouth.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” you laughed breathlessly, helping him tug down his jeans and his boxers just enough so that he could free himself from their constraints. He was thick and hard and ready, but he pumped himself a few times for good measure before lining himself up against your entrance.

“You alright, baby?” he asked, stroking your cheek with his free hand. He knew you were usually used to more foreplay than this, and he didn’t want to hurt you.

“Mhm,” you nodded, cupping his face in your hands to reassure him. “Please, baby,” you mouthed against his lips.

Within seconds, he was buried deep inside you, your fingers tangled in his hair and your legs locked around his waist as he began rocking his hips back and forth in an increasingly frenzied rhythm.

It was messy and sloppy and chaotic, and you loved every minute of it. You cherished the moments of slow lovemaking that you and Rhett shared, when he worshiped every inch of your body and took his time giving you more pleasure than you ever could have thought possible. But you also loved these wild and crazy moments, when the two of you were so overcome by your animalistic need for each other that your bodies came crashing together in a way that was so uncontrolled and frantic and perfect because it was yours.

“Rhett,” you moaned, your voice high-pitched with pleasure. “Rhett, Rhett, Rhett,” you cried, tugging on his hair and panting against his ear, your words tumbling out in concert with the sound and rhythm of his thrusts.

“Right here, honeybee,” he gasped out, lacing his fingers through yours as he reached for one of your hands. “I’m right—oh, yeah. Oh, shit, baby. Shit, shit, shit,” he grunted as his movements became more frenetic and out of sync.

You knew he was close. So were you.

“Rhett! Baby, I’m—”

“Sweetheart?”

Everything came to a crashing halt as the sound of your mother’s voice suddenly pierced your consciousness. Your back stiffened immediately and your eyes went wide with horror.

“Rhett!” you whispered frantically, your boyfriend still rutting inside you.

You could tell from the way his head had shot up in alarm that he could hear your mother, too, but he was too far gone now. You both were, and neither of you knew how to stop.

You heard your mother call out your name, louder this time. “Are you here, honey?”

Terrified of what your voice would sound like when you called out to her, you first made sure to clamp a hand over Rhett’s mouth, trying to keep him as silent as possible.

“Y-yes, Mama!” you called out, breathing through your nose to keep from screaming out in pleasure as Rhett continued to pound away, hitting your most sensitive spot. “I’m in the back!”

Rhett’s forehead screwed up in concentration and you felt him take your fingers into his mouth, which sent your eyes rolling into the back of your head in ecstasy.

“Are you okay? Do you need help?” your mother asked. It still sounded like she was near the front of the store.

“No!” you practically shouted, eyes widening once more. “I mean, um, I’m okay! I’ll be out in a m-minute,” you announced, your legs starting to tremble violently.

Burying your face in Rhett’s shoulder, your hand still clamped firmly over his mouth, you rocked your hips against his at an almost violent pace, desperate to drive the both of you over the edge.

You could feel him tense up, caught his gaze as he looked at you, his blue eyes almost hazy from the high of his pleasure. Wordlessly, the two of you stared at one another as, seconds apart, you came undone, your mouth open in a silent scream as your climax tore through you. You could feel the warmth flooding you as Rhett reached his finish as well, his chest heaving as you continued to hold your hand against his lips.

Your mother called your name again as Rhett’s lips met yours in a searing kiss, one that robbed you of any breath you might have had left.

“Just a minute, Mama!” you called, hoping you didn’t sound as lightheaded as you felt.

“God, I love you,” Rhett whispered, holding you close to his chest as he stroked your back slowly.

“I love you, too,” you whispered in return, leaning against him for support.

Knowing you were short on time, he pulled back reluctantly to reach for your panties, sliding them back up your legs and securing them in place. He pressed the fabric against your entrance, knowing it was liable to get messy when you stood up. He dropped a kiss on your forehead before stepping back to adjust his pants, buckling his belt as quietly as possible.

“Grab that box off the shelf,” you instructed him, sliding off the table and adjusting your dress. “There’s no way Mama isn’t going to see you, so we’ll just tell her you were helping me get some things from back here.”

Rhett shot you a mildly skeptical look, but did as you told him, pulling a large box off a high shelf.

Just as you were about to open the door, however, he suddenly hissed. “Honeybee! My hat!”

Gasping, you quickly pulled off his Stetson and dropped it back on his head, grateful that he was paying more attention than you were.

When you and Rhett finally stepped back into the store, your mama looked over and raised a surprised brow.

“Hi, Mama,” you chirped with an overly bright smile. “Rhett just stopped by on his lunch break and offered to help me get some boxes from the back,” you offered before she could even ask.

“Ma’am,” Rhett nodded respectfully, his cheeks turning bright red.

Your mama glanced from you to your boyfriend, then to the back of the store, and back again. You felt your heart plummet inside your chest. Your mother wasn’t a stupid woman. And you weren’t a very good liar.

“Thank you, Rhett,” was all she said, glancing down at the cash register. “Always such a good boy.”

“Of course, ma’am. Um, thank you,” Rhett stammered sheepishly, unable to meet your mother’s eye.

“Um, well, shouldn’t you get going, baby? I’m sure your daddy and brother are getting hungry, waiting on you to bring home lunch,” you said, shooting him a pointed look.

“Oh, yeah,” Rhett nodded, blue eyes widening slightly. “You’re right about that. I best be off. I’ll see you tonight, honeybee,” he told you, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. Turning towards your mother, he tipped his hat in deference before hurrying out the front door.

As soon as the door slammed shut behind him, your mother turned to look at you, eyebrows arched.

You swallowed nervously, wanting nothing more than for the earth to devour you whole.

“Just be glad, little missy, that it was me and not your daddy who came back early,” your mama said, shooting you a knowing look before pulling out the ledger from underneath the counter. “Now can you go pick up that deodorant that’s all over the floor?”

“Yes, Mama,” you nodded, your mortification complete as you slowly walked towards the back of the store.

As you walked, you felt your phone buzzing in your dress pocket. Pulling it out, you saw it was a text from Rhett.

Sorry, honeybee 😬😘

Smiling despite yourself, you tapped out a quick message in response.

You’ll just have to make it up to me tonight 😉

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett x reader #x reader #x female reader #outer range #lewis pullman

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seat-safety-switch · 2 years ago

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“They” say that unattended cooking is the number one cause of kitchen fires, but I was standing right next to the oven when that pot full of carburetor cleaner went up in flames. Okay, not carb cleaner. I can’t afford the good stuff. It was a pot full of Pine-Sol. Okay, Columbo, it was dollar-store brand imitation Pine-Sol, which is indeed flammable.

The most important thing to do in the event of a fire is not to panic. Luckily for me, my life experience consists of dealing with many fires. Panic is actually completely impossible for me at this point, as the part of my brain that handles the adrenaline response for such a disaster is no longer responsive to stimuli. Last doctor I had was pretty sure it had just burned itself straight out from over-use, did two papers on it. She got a job at some AI-run drug company, one of the ones whose name is all consonants. Let’s get back to the fire.

I had a fire extinguisher. In my kitchen, no less. It was just attached to a big chunk of Chrysler Imperial, because it used to be part of an NHRA-standard drag racer. Those guys are sticklers about fire protection, probably because you can only watch so many up-and-coming teenagers with immense racing talent reduce themselves to barbecue before you decide it might be time to ask them to carry a fire suppression system onboard. I hit it with my adjustable wrench, which is the only thing an adjustable wrench is good for, and it goes off, blanketing the room in some horrendously caustic fire-uncausing chemical. I also sometimes use it (the wrench) to grab hot pots off the stove when I can’t find my oven mitts. Now is such a time, and I quickly throw the entire assembly out of the missing kitchen window into the snow, where it sizzles and is rendered inert.

After a few minutes to regain my composure and discover the furthest extents of man’s discoveries of new and exciting profanity, I step outside to retrieve the carburetor. Clean as a whistle. I smile, and walk back inside, ready to begin the arduous task of forming my own carburetor gaskets out of old roof shingles.

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musings-ofthe-unamused · 11 months ago

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Honey So Sweet pt. 1 (Genshin Impact)

Pairing: Childe x Reader, Harbingers x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Childe

A/N: Man, I could deal with Childe if he gave me money

It sucks being broke. You had no luck in job searches and college had ended more than three months ago. The only solace you had was going to the café near campus. It was cheap and quiet most of the time. The only downside was that the coffee sucked. Big time. Your nose scrunched as you set down your mug and deleted yet another rejection email.

It was raining outside. It seemed to match your mood, the way it poured relentlessly. The gray cloud swallowed up every bit of sunshine there could be. You watched as a flash of bright orange hair flashed past the window. The bell attached to the door rang as a man walked in. He huffed and shook off the water droplets from his hair. His outfit was impeccable. A thick gray wool overcoat covered a nice looking black dress shirt. His matching gray slacks were impeccably clean and tidy, expensive leather Italian dress shoes pulling the whole outfit together.

Like you, Childe was a regular. More than several times, he had bought you coffee and kept you company as you searched for jobs or studied. As much as you appreciated the company, he was annoying. Not only was he talkative, but he always talked about the expensive items he bought or the lavish trips he went on. You couldn't help the jealousy that grabbed any common sense and destroyed it. You wanted the lavish lifestyle. You wanted to stop drinking bad coffee and get the expensive shit that only tasted slightly better. You wanted to-

"It's pouring down, huh?" Childe pulled you away from your thoughts. He slid a piece of chocolate cake towards you. "I thought I was gonna get soaked."

You hummed and happily accepted the cake. "Maybe you shouldn't wear an expensive coat like that. It could get ruined."

"I'd just buy another one."

There it was. That smirk paired with the nonchalance of spending wild amounts of money. It drove you crazy. You angrily pierced the cake with your fork. For once, you just wanted to live life comfortably. Was it too much to ask? Probably. The world enjoyed laughing at your expense. Your empty wallet was just an ongoing bit. But at least you had free cake.

"Tough day?"

"Another job rejection." You sighed and lowered your head. "Why can't I be rich?"

Childe leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand. "Let me take you out for dinner tonight."

You groaned and shook your head. "Can't. No money."

"I'll pay."

That piqued your interest. You raised your head. "Okay… but where?"

"The new place that opened just outside campus."

"The steakhouse?" You snorted. You couldn't even afford to look at it. "I don't have clothes fancy enough for that. Why don't we just-"

Childe took out his wallet and produced a black card. He held it out to you. Your eyebrows furrowed. Was he just trying to show off his money now? You took the card and turned it around in your hands, studying it. Childe stared at you with a smirk. He was most definitely planning something.

"Buy yourself some clothes. Then go out to dinner with me."

"I couldn't-"

He stopped you, his hands moving over yours. "Yes, you can. You deserve it, okay? Think of it as a gift."

"No one is ever this generous without a hidden motive."

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't have hidden motives. Other than wanting to see you happy for once."

You took a deep breath. What was the worst thing that could go wrong? If anything, you could just return whatever clothes you got after dinner. Your eyes drifted over to your laptop. After months of constant rejections, you did deserve a break. You deserved some happiness. And it wasn't like you didn't trust Childe. At least, you didn't think he would have anything malicious planned. So you nodded and agreed. Nothing bad would happen. Right?

***

The restaurant Childe chose was all the buzz. You heard your classmates dream about even stepping inside. And here you were, your arm looped around Childe's as he led you into the fine dining restaurant. The place was big with a wide open space. Chandeliers decorated the ceiling, the lighting soft and intimate. There was a stage towards the left of the dining area where a grand piano sat. The pianist played music that flowed throughout the building and added to the already romantic atmosphere. This was… a date.

You looked up at Childe. He had a grin on his face as he held you close. So this was his whole plan. To take you on a date, woo you, shower you with gifts, and then suddenly it's two years later and you're a stay at home housespouse. You took a deep breath and sat down as Childe pulled out your chair. He then walked around and sat, giving you a smile.

"You look gorgeous tonight."

"All thanks to you."

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "Did you enjoy shopping?"

"It wasn't bad…" You looked away from him. "It felt kind of awkward. Like I was afraid to buy something too expensive."

"Please, you barely left a dent in my wallet." He picked up the menu then motioned for you to do the same. "Get anything you want."

You picked up the menu. As you expected, everything was out of your price range. Not to mention, you barely understood any of the names on the menu. It was one of those places that didn't have pictures either. You frowned, bringing the menu closer to your face. You peeked over the edge to see what Childe was doing.

He was staring, of course.

Your face flushed and you brought the menu back up. "So… see anything you like?"

"I was about to ask the same."

"Uhm…" You slowly set down the menu and gave him a sheepish smile. "Why don't you order for me?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart."

Sweetheart. There was definitely something fishy going on here. Childe had never wanted to talk to you so much before. And now he was acting like… he enjoyed pampering you. As the dinner went on and you ate food too fancy for your tastes, your mind tried to find a reason for him doing this. Even as you enjoyed yourself, you couldn't help but think that something deeper was going on. Maybe it was because you felt so out of place. You were a commoner, someone who had to rely on some rich spoiled kid to give you even a singular day of relaxation.

After dinner, you two were walking back to campus. Childe's arm was looped around yours as he held you close. He felt warm and shielded you from the cool night air. It was silent as you tried to rationalize why someone would ever do something like this for you. Childe pulled you closer. It felt so right, but there was still something off. Eventually, the two of you made it back to your dorm.

"Wanna go shopping this week?" He asked, his eyes trained on you.

You looked up at him. "Me? Why?"

"Because you deserve it. And I want to see how you shop."

"Is this not a waste of money?"

"I'm rich, sweetheart."

You frowned and stopped walking. "Childe, why are you doing this? I'm starting to feel like a sugar baby."

"Hah!" He chuckled and rolled his eyes as he leaned towards you. "Wouldn't be too far off."

You stared at him in disbelief. "Are you a sugar daddy?"

"A new one, yeah. I was getting bored. I wanted to spend my money somehow, so I signed up for this app that hooks up sugar babies to sugar daddies. Or mommies. Or whatever you'd like."

"Okay… but why me? I know for a fact I'm not on that site." You crossed your arms and tilted your head. Was this a blessing in disguise?

He hummed and reached out, pinching your cheek slightly. "Because I couldn't resist that cute sad face of yours."

Your face scrunched up. You couldn't tell if that was a compliment or pity. Either way, it felt weird. So there was an ulterior motive. It may not have been sinister, but it was something different than you expected. You sighed and pushed his hand away. "So I'm your sugar baby?"

He shrugged. "If you wanna be. I'm not the type to force you if you don't want it. It'll be a learning curve for me too."

"I'll… I'll think about it."

"Great." He leaned in and kissed your cheek. "I'll text you."

With that, he left. Your hand brushed where he kissed you. You went inside, dazed and confused. As you lay in bed in your too expensive dress, you took out your phone. Childe had texted you asking if you got in safe and when you were free next. You sighed and set down your phone. You had to admit, under all the bad vibes you felt, the date was fun. Hanging out with Childe, going shopping… you enjoyed it. Your phone dinged and you got another text.

Childe: "Here's the app in case I'm not enough ;)"

Your eyes widened. He wanted you to have… more? Was this normal? You weren't exactly educated in glucose activities. But… nothing could go wrong. Right? As long as Childe was okay with it, there would be no harm in trying out at least another one. So you downloaded the app. The way it was set up was exactly like a dating profile. You made an account fairly easily. As you swiped right through the ones you didn't like, one caught your eye. He looked well off, brand name glasses perched on his nose and dark long hair put into a neat side ponytail. His eyes were closed in a joyous smile.

"Pantalone, huh? I guess… It won't hurt." And then you swiped left.

#x reader #fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin childe x reader #childe x reader #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin tartaglia #fatui harbingers #genshin harbingers #harbingers x reader

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maidssingapore · 1 year ago

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sunnylands-world · 2 years ago

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stepdad draco x crybaby needy y/n smut

CRYBABY

Pairing: step dad draco x fem reader

Summary: Draco brings you to work but instead of helping like you're supposed to you, you whine about him not touching you until he has enough…

Word count: 1'707

Warning: fingering, daddy kink, oral [female receiving], reader is a crybaby, unrealistic description of taste, dirty talk, oral in a workplace?, Mean Draco to soft Draco

Mistakes are all mine

Universe: step dad

A/n: sorry it took me a while hope you all like it!!?

It wasn't often you went with your stepfather to work. You went with him every once in a while to help around the office, but today he insisted that it was bring your kid to work day to which you told him you were not a child. you were 20 for crying out loud! but he chuckled and said "you're still my girl" so like the good girl you are you didn't argue and made your way into the shower; washing your hair clean of dirt and following up with your skin.

After your shower, you threw on your nice baby blue dress. you had decided you needed to look the part. It hugged you nicely and even gave your breast a nice push. you brushed your teeth again, brushed through your hair, and gave yourself an encouraging nod, only to pull the door open and have the wind knocked straight out of you.

HOLY SHIT.

Now you had seen your stepdad in his business clothes before but you'd never seen him in this all-black suit that he was wearing now. His shoulders were high as he fixed the end of his sleeve. The man looked large and expensive, something you wanted so badly but couldn't afford and he was standing right there in front of you. you swallowed after eyeing him shamelessly.

When you met his eyes they twinkled with a look you recognized very well. He was sex on legs in this suit and you were more than happy to remove every layer of his clothing to worship him like the god he is.

"You look gorgeous," he hummed, licking his lips. you crept forward, fingers wrapping around his tie making him arch a brow.

Don't play dumb Draco. I know you want me.

"Maybe you should cancel so we can stay home" you whispered, and he nodded in agreement.

I got him right where I wanted him.

"tempting," he says bringing his thumb to run over your bottom lip-

Just put it in my mouth and I'll suck it for you

before he pulls back, slapping your ass with his other hand, making you jump.

"But I have work and you're coming today," he said, turning on his heel and heading for the door.

"Wish I was," you called back, a pout coming to your face as he chuckled. How could Waltz in here, tease you and then reject you for work? What type of man does that?

"You just rejected me" you whined, looking at him as he drove to his company, his hand gripping the wheel making you clench your thighs together as you watched from the back seat. Why were you in the backseat? Because he told you to sit there saying he didn't need distractions while driving.

"I did not reject you! you know if I didn't have work I'd-" he sighed, his blue eyes meeting yours in the rearview mirror. you huffed, turning towards the window your arms crossed over your chest.

"I just wanted you to fuck me" you cried. Draco inhales, focusing his gaze back on the road as you enter the parking lot.

"Don't," he said, pulling into his spot.

"I'm not doing anything," you snapped, jumping out of the car as he turned the key, heading for the building. Draco followed behind you with his jaw clenched as you entered the elevator. He pressed the button to the floor still not saying a word and it only made you more upset.

"Daddy please," you wimped, pulling on his sleeve.

"I said wait! Stop being a brat!" He sneered, tugging his hand away.

"but daddy"

"I said no! that's final." With that, he stepped out of the elevator heading for his office. Your lip trembled at his tone, your eyes watering as you turned towards the girl's bathroom.

Why was he being so mean? Did he not want me to want him?

You can't help that you were so turned on by him this morning. It was him to blame for looking so good. you only wanted him to touch you. You still did, finding the wetness between your legs uncomfortable, but he refused to. The tears escaped your eyes from the sexual frustration before you whipped them away. you met your reflection in the mirror.

Your face was puffy and your skin flustered. you sighed, heading for his office, waving at people who said hello before entering it and taking a seat in the corner. The day continued silently with you running around for him. He'd brush your hand as you grabbed the paper but you didn't make any fuss about it. He seemed to be hurt that you hadn't spoken to him, not even to joke or anything. You sat back in your seat, a pout still on your lips as you flipped through a magazine ignoring his stare across the room.

"[name],"

no answer.

"[name] baby look at me" he called. He was begging. You glanced up for a moment before looking away.

"Don't be like that. I'm sorry I was just busy and a bit stressed out. I wasn't trying to be mean to you babydoll, I'm sorry" he said softly, walking over to you from around the desk, his hand resting on your thigh, sliding its way up.

"Let me make it up to you," he said, his fingers rubbing your, clit through the fabric of your panties.

"Don't you want me to make you feel good baby" you bit your lip trying to hold back the sound making its way out. You were almost mad that you caved so easily. He was always good at making you forget why you were upset.

"Draco," you whine, bucking your hips into his touch. "uh uh that's not my name" he smirks, easing a finger into your tightness. That smirk. You weren't sure if you wanted to slap or kiss him for it. His fingers work inside your warm wet walls with ease.

"daddy" you moaned

"good girl" he praised standing a bit to kiss your lips hard and apologetically, swallowing your cries. your legs trembling as he fingered your sobbing hole.

"you poor baby having to wait for daddy" he teased and you only could whimper in Response.

"You're so wet for me baby, bet I could slip right inside you." He moans. your cunt sucked his digits greedily as your head fell back against the glass of his office.

"You look so pretty like this," he groans before he pulls his fingers away. you whine in protest.

"Hush baby, I'm not done," he says, pulling you from the couch. you stood as he grinned, grabbing a cushion from the couch.

"Lay down princess," he says, helping you walk over. With your head resting on the pillow, he lowers so he's lying between your open legs.

"Beautiful," he says, bringing a blush to your cheeks. He spreads your legs wider so he can fit, his mouth latching onto your pussy, his tongue lapping at your juices as you cry out boldly. His large hands pull you closer, baring him completely between your legs.

He takes your clit between his lips, sucking on the throbbing bud and switching to flicker his warm, wet, tongue against it. Your eyes are rolled in the back of your head, your hand tugging at his blonde hair as you scream his name into the office. The thought someone could hear you sends a shiver all through you.

"Fuck you taste good, could eat you for hours," he mumbles. Your back arches like your trying to reach the sky, but there was no need when Draco would fuck you with his tongue to oblivion. You looked down at him between your legs and it sent you spiraling as he grinned at you. You bucked your hips into His face. It felt too good for you to be ashamed.

The way his blue eyes peered into yours made it all so intimidating. How could he make you feel small and submissive when he was the one between your legs?

"You're gonna look so good when you cum all over my tongue," he groans, slipping it right into you. licking at your walls and thrusting it deep like he was trying to taste every space inside you. your legs shook. They went through a battle about whether or not to shut or stay open. The knots in your stomach made your toes curl and your body felt like it was weakened from every stroke.

Fuck, he's good at that!

"Daddy!" He already knew and he nodded against you. You wondered if that was on purpose so he could bump his nose against your clit. You were whining and whimpering as tears filled your eyes. You wanted to cum so badly and Draco would get you there one lick at a time.

His hand left your thigh, pushing two fingers in as his mouth moved back to your clit, sucking. His fingers are knuckle deep as he slams them into you, having no care for your insides and neither do you when it feels so good. It's not like you'd stop him, even if you could when he Blurs the line between pleasure and pain, making you feel like you were floating from the ground in the best way. You weren't even sure what you were saying or if you were even saying anything, but he cooed in response to it and it had your heart fluttering. His other hand rubbed your thigh in a comforting way.

You were his precious girl. "That's it, baby, give it to daddy," he says sweetly. He managed to be so soft with his words while he was destroying your pussy and it pulled all the right strings inside you. Your body spasmed as he moved on top, kissing you. His tongue shared your sweet taste as you worked yours against his in a filthy kiss. He moved his hand to hold you close as you fell apart. He was playing with your heart and your pleasure all at once. God blessed you with this amazing man. You had no interest in ever stopping being greedy. For your daddy, you would always be a crybaby...

Request open 😺

Draco's lovers and requests

@alexxavicry, @sarahthehuffpuff, @supercoffeeblogs, @thatwattpadobsessed, @amyclare04, @kyracanwrite, @animeloverfreak310, @imafangirl22, @phildunphyisadilf, @jac1ndaa

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