#custom serum boxes

[creativeboxesblog]

Stand Out on the Shelf: The Power of Custom Serum Boxes

In the ever-competitive world of skincare, serums reign supreme. These potent elixirs boast concentrated ingredients that target specific concerns, making them a must-have in any beauty routine.

But with countless brands vying for customer attention, how can you make your serums stand out on the crowded shelf? The answer lies in a powerful marketing tool often overlooked: custom serum boxes.

Beyond Packaging: The Allure of Custom Serum Boxes

Custom serum boxes are more than just a pretty face. They are a strategic marketing tool that can elevate your brand and connect with customers on a deeper level. Here's how:

Attention-grabbing Appeal: First impressions matter. A well-designed custom serum box with vibrant colours, captivating fonts, and high-quality printing instantly grabs attention and sets your product apart from generic packaging.

A Story Waiting to be Told: Don't underestimate the power of storytelling. Your custom serum boxes can be a canvas to narrate your brand's story. Highlight your commitment to sustainability with recycled materials and eco-friendly inks.

Building Brand Identity: Custom serum boxes are an extension of your brand identity. Incorporate your brand's logo, colour scheme, and fonts to create a cohesive visual experience that resonates with your target audience.

The Power of Information: Don't leave your customers guessing. Use the real estate on your custom serum boxes to educate them about your product. List the key ingredients and their benefits. Include instructions for use and safety information.

Emotional Connection: The right visuals and messaging on your custom serum boxes can evoke emotions and connect with customers on a personal level. Feature captivating imagery of glowing skin or satisfied customers to showcase the transformative power of your serum.

Beyond Aesthetics: The Functionality of Custom Serum Boxes

While aesthetics are important, custom serum boxes shouldn't compromise on functionality. Here are some key considerations:

Protection is Paramount: Your serums deserve superior protection. Choose sturdy cardboard materials that can withstand bumps and jostles during shipping and storage. Consider inserts or dividers to prevent bottles from clinking together and ensure safe delivery.

Sustainability Matters: Eco-conscious consumers appreciate brands that prioritize sustainability. Opt for recyclable cardboard materials and eco-friendly inks to minimize your environmental impact. This resonates with a growing segment of the market and positions your brand as responsible and forward-thinking.

User-friendliness is Key: Customers shouldn't struggle to open or close your custom serum boxes. Incorporate easy-to-open mechanisms like tuck tops or magnetic closures. Ensure the box size is appropriate for your serum bottles, avoiding excess space that could damage the product during transport.

From Concept to Reality: Creating Winning Custom Serum Boxes

Ready to design custom serum boxes that turn heads and drive sales? Here's a roadmap to success:

Know Your Target Audience: Understanding your ideal customer is key. Research their preferences, buying habits, and pain points. This knowledge will guide your design choices and messaging strategy.

Define Your Brand Identity: Solidify your brand's voice and visual identity. What makes your brand unique? How do you want to be perceived? Ensure your custom serum boxes reflect these core elements.

Seek Inspiration: Get inspired by successful brands in the skincare industry. Look at their packaging choices and messaging strategies. However, avoid direct imitation – aim for inspiration that fuels your own creative vision.

Collaborate with a Reputable Packaging Partner: Partner with a packaging company that specializes in custom boxes. They can guide you through the design process, material selection, and printing options to ensure a high-quality finished product.

The Final Touch: The Power of Custom Serum Boxes

Custom serum boxes are more than just packaging – they are a strategic marketing tool with the power to elevate your brand and connect with customers.

By prioritizing aesthetics, functionality, and brand storytelling, you can create custom serum boxes that grab attention, educate consumers, and ultimately drive sales. In a competitive market, standing out is essential.

Invest in custom serum boxes and watch your brand take center stage and all of this is available at the beauty boxes.

[packagingmania]

Features of Custom Serum Boxes Can Glorify the Overall Look

Custom serum boxes are used by brands to deliver eye-catching designed packaging because these Custom serum packaging boxes have amazing customization features. These features allow brands to customize serum boxes in various ways, such as using different colors and design elements to make the boxes unique and appealing.

[custompackaginghub]

Creative Ways to Design Serum Boxes

If you have a creative design in mind, it will be useless if the packaging is breaking. Therefore you must concentrate on making strong serum packaging boxes that will be able to keep the product safe within.

The box should be made of packaging material that is sturdy like cardboard, corrugated cardboard, or Kraft. You will get a unique box that you may customize according to the needs of your product and customer base.

A serum box that is strong can make an attractive design look even more amazing. This is why you should get something sturdy.

[ppssession]

Mystic Shop: Leather Serum

Dale is a fat young man with a fairly good education and financial status.

But unfortunately, he was not so lucky in love. He likes men, but sadly, Sky, the man he loves, even though he likes men, doesn't like Dale.

Sky is a good guy. He is Dale's good friend. But he doesn't like Dale because Sky likes men who are good looking and have a good body, which is very different from Dale.

Today, Dale chooses to confess his love to Sky, but sadly, Sky rejects him.

Dale: Why, why don't you accept my love?

Sky: Sorry, my friend only thinks of you as a friend and besides, I have a boyfriend.

They talked in a restaurant, Lael's face showed disappointment before turning into resentment.

Dale: Yes, you like men who are handsome and have a good body, which is not me.

Dale leaves, leaving Sky behind. Despite the shouts, Dale ignores them and walks away with a burning anger in his chest.

Two weeks later….

Dale spends this time watching Sky live a normal life through social media. Eventually, he meets Sky's boyfriend through social media as well, which is him. His name is Moon.

Moon is a handsome man with a great body and is also very famous on social media. He has 900,000 followers. It is no wonder that he is the boyfriend of the lovely Sky.

Dale spent a long time thinking about his plan for revenge on Sky. He intended to get revenge on Sky, but he didn't like the violent methods that might land him in jail.

He walked out and thought of various plans to use for revenge until he came near an abandoned building.

He saw a strange red light coming from inside the building, he wondered what it was so he went into the abandoned building to look. After walking for a while, Dale found a mysterious shop in the abandoned building. He looked at the shop sign that was the source of the red light. "Mystic Shop, this shop will help you change." Dale read the name of the shop along with the description below before walking into the shop and met a young man wearing a black robe covering his face. "Hello, customer of destiny.

Dale asked curiously, “The storefront said that this store will help change. Tell me what does that mean?”

The robed man smiled and placed the catalog in front of Dale. “You can understand everything by reading the catalog.” Dale took the catalog and read it, finding it quite interesting.

The catalog clearly categorizes the products, but what is strange is that the categories and items include the following: possession, transformation, body swapping, special pets, and body suits.

All the products have instructions for use. Dale was most interested in the bodysuit section. He asked the clerk, “How can I trust what’s written on it?” Dale asked, suspicious and wary.

Man in robe: I can show you an example.

The robed man picked up a pill box. He swallowed one pill. Suddenly, his face distorted. The shape of his face, the position of his eyes, the shape of his face, all changed into another man. He spoke in a new voice, “How is it, customer?”

Dale was stunned by the sight before him. He was sure that everything on the list was real. Dale chose an item from the list in the bodysuit category.

The customer selected product number 428, body suit serum. The male employee walked to the back of the store and brought a long needle with clear liquid inside.

Inside, a male employee began to explain the product, a bodysuit serum. When she injects it into the body, the body will gradually become thinner, the internal organs will dissolve and merge with the body. The person being injected will gradually lose strength and lose consciousness. Then, the back of the person being injected will gradually open up, when the person being injected becomes a bodysuit ready to be worn.

Dale took the serum in his hand and asked if I could use it on anyone. The clerk quickly replied, “Of course.” Then Lall took out his wallet. I had to pay. Although the serum was quite expensive, he thought it was worth it. After paying, the clerk spoke up, “Customer, the serum you just bought is a temporary body suit type. Its effects will only last for 30 days, so please be careful.” Dale replied, “How can I make it permanent?” The clerk put on a superior face before answering, “It will be completed in a day. You can wait and come back tomorrow to get it for a little more money.

Dale's face darkened with resentment that could not be waited for, he quickly turned around and walked away. At first, he was going to use the serum on Sky to get revenge.

But he accidentally found Moon walking to the gym, he looked at Moon before smiling evilly, he followed Moon to the gym, luck seemed to be on his side, the gym owner was fixing the CCTV and all the staff were busy so no one paid any attention to Dale.

He watched Moon walk towards the changing room. As Moon took off her shirt, Dale locked the changing room door and attacked Moon. The serum was injected into Moon's back.

When Moon felt the attack before he could do anything, his body lost all its strength, his body slowly became thin like a deflated balloon, Moon's body collapsed to the ground, the direct view made Dale feel indescribably good, not long after, Moon's back slowly opened up, revealing a gap for another person to wear Moon's body.

Dale didn't hesitate, he quickly took off all of his clothes. Once he was completely naked, Dale pulled the moon bodysuit up and put it on both legs.

The feeling of Dale's legs going into the bodysuit made Dale feel indescribably good. He was so happy that he couldn't describe it. His penis was slowly hardening. Without delay, Dale slowly pushed his penis into the bodysuit. It felt like someone was using their mouth to masturbate Dale and it was like he was fucking someone.

Dale put both hands into the arms of the bodysuit and used his big hand to guide his part into Moon's head. When Dale's head was inside the bodysuit, the hole in the back slowly closed. When it was closed, the bodysuit fused with Dale's body. Moon's muscles slowly flexed. When the bodysuit was completely put on, Moon's face slowly opened. He was not the same Moon anymore, but a new Moon.

Without delay, Dale surveyed his new body. “Look at this bodysuit. It’s so nice. I’m sure no one would envy a body like this.”

Dale used his phone to text Sky. Dale: I'm sorry for being mean to you, I get it, I'm not your type. Sky replied to Dale's text shortly after. It's okay my friend, I understand you now. Great, now Sky has forgiven Lall and he is ready to go back to Sky in this new body. "This bodysuit will definitely help me a lot," Dale in the moon bodysuit said before packing up all his things and going back home to Sky.

Upon arriving at Sky's house, he warmly welcomed Moon as his lover, not knowing that this was Dale wearing Moon's bodysuit. Dale pretended to be Moon smoothly. He knew all of Sky's preferences and was able to answer all of Sky's questions before they went to bed. Sky slowly started to get closer to Moon, urging Rome to add more atmosphere.

Moon responded quickly, he pushed Sky onto the bed. He slowly climbed up and pressed Moon's thick body against his back, leaving the target of his pants on Sky's buttocks.

“I’ve always wanted it.” Moon slowly pulled down his pants, revealing his normally large penis that was released into the air. It bounced between his hot belly and Sky’s ass. Moon quickly thrust his penis into Sky’s ass without delay. Moans of pleasure filled the room.

Their moans were like a symphony in the air, Sky's asshole squeezing Moon's cock that was thrusting in greedily with every thrust. With each relentless thrust, he climaxed. Moon's cockhead released a thick, hot stream of semen into Sky's asshole. "Very good, baby, take all of my seed in."

After the hot sex, both of them fell asleep for a while before they both woke up at 7 am. Today, Moon's body woke up at 6 am, walked to the bathroom and locked it.

Moon grabbed the toy and managed to rip it open. The bodysuit was pulled down to reveal Dale's fat body. "I need to take a shower.

Moon grabbed his neck and successfully ripped it off. The tight-fitting suit was pulled down, revealing Dale's plump body. "I need to take a shower.

After taking a shower, Ple took Moon's bodysuit and cleaned it before putting it on again. He didn't forget to use his hand to grab his flaccid penis to make it hard before inserting it into Moon's dick. Even though Dale's dick was less than half of Moon's dick, when inserted, the bodysuit combined to make Dale's dick bigger to insert. Dale pulled Moon's head and put it on completely, destroying Lael's fat body, leaving only Moon, a famous person on social media, a handsome young man with an extremely hot body.

After putting on the bodysuit, he noticed Moon's hard cock, so he slowly masturbated. His hand grabbed the hard cock up and down, massaging it lustfully. It didn't take long for him to reach his climax, and his semen splattered all over his body. Moon used his tongue to clean Min. "It tastes so good." Not long after cleaning him again, he came out to get dressed.

Sky, Moon's little husband, woke up to find his handsome husband getting dressed. "Honey, where are you going so early in the morning?" Moon quickly replied, "I'm going to meet my advertising sponsor." Sky didn't suspect much since Moon sometimes has early morning business. Moon said, "If we're done talking, I'll text you, honey." He kissed Sky goodbye before leaving the room.

Dale, wearing Moon's leotard, walks to the Mystic Shop again. This time, he wants a serum that will permanently turn Moon into a leotard.

But Dale is having trouble, he can't access Moon's credit card and account because he doesn't have the code. While waiting for the clerk to bring him the permanent body suit serum, he looks at the catalog and finds a new section that makes him smile. When the clerk arrives with the permanent body suit serum, Moon orders the clerk again, speaking in a triumphant tone, "Take item number 555 (memory reading potion for body suits).

Finished as you know I had some personal problems that made me unable to write. Now everything is getting better and I can write again. Maybe not as often as before but I can definitely write again. Thanks, see you soon. Interesting story (This story is a request from my idol. I tried to put his personality into my work along with his personality. I hope he likes it. Hehe)

[idyllcy]

pov ur therapy is doom shopping - tim drake x reader (pretty bird countdown #1)

The world stops for no one.

You drum your fingers against the marble of your kitchen island, browsing through online shops while you're supposed to be working on your paper, humming to yourself as the rain outside your window drums erratically against the glass. It's far too late for you to be awake, but you're also waiting for someone to get home. You wonder why he had picked such an early patrol time for once. It wasn't common for him to be back before two.

"The rain is terrible." Tim sighs, window opening as he slides in, unclasping his boots and cape, locking the window as he turns on the tint. "You alright?"

You hum at him, continuing with your shopping. 

"Whatcha looking at?" He peels off his suit, dropping it down the chute as it lands with a thud, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he stares at your screen.

"Doom shopping?"

"The day's been slow."

"I figured." He hums. "It's why I took an early shift."

"You seem to know me a little too well." You mumble, no real malice behind your words, clicking add to cart. 

"Isn't it nice?"

"I suppose." You scroll through your cart, blinking twice before closing your laptop. "How was patrol?"

"You don't need to fill in the silence, you know?" He squeezes you, carrying you in his arms as he tells you about patrol anyway. You need time off from your mind, and he's more than willing to help you out. You'd have a higher chance of being better in the morning than anything else. "So? What did you do while I was out?"

"I put the dishes in the dishwasher." You hum. "Not to dry. To wash. I think we officially have enough dishes to use the dishwasher instead of handwashing."

"Mhm?"

"And I also made some steamed egg." You shift slightly in his arms as he reaches to open the bedroom door. 

"Did you save me some?"

"Yeah." You yawn. "Middle section of the upper fridge. If you want anything else, there's quite a couple of things in the freezer. I think we need to eat the costco mac n cheese soon."

Tim laughs. "Yeah?"

"Mhm. Also, I was looking through my photos that I got before my gramps passed..."

"Were you thinking about him?"

"I was." You close your eyes as he sets you down on the bed. "I think that's why I'm so down right now."

"Yeah. I feel that." He mumbles. "I'll shower and then we can get to bed, alright? Feel free to keep browsing. The tablet is charged."

"Alright." 

Tim finds that taking care of you is no big deal no matter how tired he is. It's as easy to take care of you as it is to breathe, and even with the ring on your ear and the band on your finger, he finds that it has only gotten easier to be your other half. He's sure you would say the same, your ring never leaving your finger even while resting — never gone even when he's bloody from the worse days of patrol. The dirt and grime slide down his body as he washes, bathroom door opening as you move to sit in the tub to be by him.

"You alright?"

The lack of response and comfortable silence tells Tim all he needs to know.

"Did you see the new video from Bernard?"

"The one detailing Nightwing as a vampire?"

"Yeah."

"I did." You hum.

"Thoughts?"

"Found it funny. He used one of my photosets from April Fools years back as evidence and I thought I was going to lose my mind." You hum. "Do you think the study could fit a couple more blind boxes?"

"I'm sure it can... somehow. We can always layer the figures." Tim reaches for face wash. "Oh, right. I saw your serum was low. Do you need more?"

"I went over my spending limit for the month, so next month." You mumble. "What do you think about a custom figure?"

"You'd have to be filthy rich for that, no?" He pauses. "Wait. Pretty bird. Why do you have a limit if my credit card never maxes out—"

"Well, aren't you filthy rich?" You raise a brow. "What if you divorce me one day?"

"I am." Tim agrees, closing his mouth to wash his face. "That's not happening. Shoo. You'll put me in my grave before I let you get away from me."

"Then, we can afford it." You hum. "Well, might as well spend the money. Considering that we don't want kids and all." You choose to ignore his words.

"I can't believe your mom is still pestering me to change your mind." Tim sighs. "What gene do they want to continue down the bloodline? Your brain?"

"Your brain, birdie." You chuckle. "You're rich, smart, and other than..."

"Hey, don't bring my height into this!" Tim gasps. "Rude." 

"Hey, I didn't say shit." You grumble. "You know damn well your family has a tall gene."

"I might kill you." 

"That'd align perfectly with my interests." You blow a raspberry at him through the glass.

"Regardless, I told her she's getting no grandchildren. Told her I'm sterile."

You cough, laugh stuck in your chest as you gasp for air, wheezing in the process.

"You alright, pretty bird?"

"I just lost it, sorry." You cough, trying to get the words out. "You are NOT sterile."

"That vasectomy says otherwise."

"That makes you infertile!"

"Yeah, but if I tell her I'm infertile, she might tell me that we could always do IVF."

"Evil..." You mumble.

"I know." Tim grumbles. "Well, regardless," he turns the water off, "might as well spend money on the things that matter?"

"Which is?"

"My wife's retail therapy." Tim grins, robe wrapped around his body as he opens his arms for you. "Hm?"

"I don't know, birdie." You pretend to think. "Sounds like a lot of money you're spending there."

"Well, it's all worth it. Happy wife, happy life. happy spouse, happy house." He hums. "As long as you're smiling, then it made all of that nonsensical pining I went through when I first met you in person worth it."

"Yeah?"

"Positive." He grins.

"You've become real sappy, you know?"

"And you don't like it?"

"Mm..." You pinch his cheek as he reaches over you to shut the lights. "No. I do."

"I know you do." He pinches your cheek back. "It's why you married me."

"Maybe I married you for your bank account."

Tim pretends to gasp in offense, jaw dropped. "You couldn't have."

You go quiet, Tim reaching over to pinch your cheek again as you bite his fingers.

"Hey!"

You stick your tongue out at him with a 'blegh' and he huffs. 

"Nighty night, pretty bird."

"Love you too, birdie."

[holylulusworld]

The captain at a sex shop

Summary: You’re just doing your job when you catch the eye of a certain captain…

Pairing: PostWS!Steve Rogers x Plussized(short)!Reader

Warnings: mentions of sex toys, incorrect law terms and stuff, fluff, kinda love-struck Steve, size kink

“Do you have a license to sell these,” you huff as the clerk at the sex shop ignores you. “Hello,” you snap your fingers. “You can either show me the papers or take these out of the display.”

“Who do you think you are?” the blonde snaps at you. “You can’t come here and demand shit.” She clicks her tongue and turns to walk away.

“Well, I work for the Avengers initiative, little miss plastic boobs,” you sneer at her when she dips her head to look you up and down. “Captain America for sure didn’t sign shit for you to sell dildos claiming that the trader measured Captain Rogers’ dick himself.”

“Show me your badge, inspector,” she bites back.

“Fine, you want it the hard way then,” you smirk as you get your badge out. “Tony Stark hired me to make sure no one sells illegal shit any longer. Last year, someone sold an Iron Man toaster, and it exploded. It almost killed a kid.”

You put your hands on your hips and size the woman up. She swallows thickly as you impatiently tap your foot.

“I-I…” she stammers while nervously looking around the shop. Customers stopped looking at the products and followed your conversation. “I found them online…”

“Where? Who sold this shit to you? You know, it’s illegal claiming that Captain Rogers let someone measure his dick. I will confiscate them all.”

“All? But—but I paid a thousand bucks for the dildos, miss. Will I get the money back?”

You laugh. “Miss, you’re lucky Captain Rogers doesn’t sue you. Now pack that shit up.”

“I only wanted to make money.”

“Copyright infringement is a crime, lady. You shouldn’t sell stuff you know is not licensed,” you grunt. “If only people would learn, I could have a very relaxed job.”

“Copyright infringement?” she stares at you. Bewildered. “That’s insane!”

“Well, you claim to sell Captain Rogers’ cock. But it belongs only to him, don’t you think? It’s on his body after all,” you grin when she looks a little flustered. You’re bold and downright cocky. 

“I’ll get them all…wait,” she caves in, but gives you a stinky eye. “I hope you’re happy now.”

“No. Why would I? I got to drive around with hundreds of dicks in my trunk and can’t even use one of them,” you snicker when her cheeks turn red. “Now hurry up. I got to check on three more shops. One of them claims to sell the serum turning you into Hulk. I bet it’s a hoax, but you never know…”

While you fight over the dildos Captain America style with the woman, a pair of blue eyes watch you. He grins and chuckles as you try to snatch one of the dildos out of a customer’s hands. 

“Hands off! I just confiscated all of them.”

The woman won’t give up. She presses the dildo to her chest while throwing insults at you. “That’s mine!”

“Listen, lady. If you don’t hand it over, I’ll call the cops,” you purse your lips, “Do you really want me to call them?”

“Ladies,” you stiffen as a familiar voice stops the woman from fighting for the dildo. She pales and drops the sex toy to the ground. “Please don’t fight. She’s only doing her job.

“C-captain America!!! What are you doing here?” the clerk asks. She’s as shocked as you, the customer, and the rest of the people at the shop.

“I was walking past the shop and heard a commotion, “Steve lies. “I thought someone needs help. I was right, I guess.”

“Uh-I’ve got this handled, Sir-I mean Captain. You can leave this to me,” you glance at Steve Rogers, the golden boy. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, nervously looking down at you.

“I can see that,” he smirks when you turn your attention back toward the shelves filled with Captain America dildos.

“Phew, that’s the last one,” you pant as you put the last box filled with the confiscated dildos on the ground. You stored them at your office for the time being, or until one of the people with a higher pay grade decides on the dildos' fate.

You fall into your chair, groaning as your back hurts after carrying all the boxes into your office. All those strong men in the building, and not a single one offered their help.

Of course not. You’re just a little ant, a tiny wheel in the machinery called the Avengers initiative. No one but the colleagues working next door knows your name.

“So…what are you trying to ask me?” Tony rolls his eyes as Steve came to his office only to not say a single word. “Capsicle, I’m not a telepath. If you want to get information, you need to ask questions.”

“The woman working for you, what’s her name?”

“Woman? Which one, Steve? I got a lot of employees,” as Steve tries to describe you, Tony rolls his eyes again. 

“Short, cute, and cocky?” the billionaire chuckles. “That’s the worst description of a person I ever heard. I need more information.”

“She confiscates things for you. Uh-she said something about a toaster,” Steve clears his throat. He doesn’t want to tell Tony what you confiscated today, or that he was at a sex shop. “I don’t know what this means.”

“Oh. This sounds like Y/N Y/L/N. Pepper hired her after the incident with the toaster,” Tony explains. “Someone sold toasters, claiming to be my partner, and that I helped produce them. A kid almost died.”

“Hmm…” Steve nods thoughtfully. “What’s her job? Where’s her office?"

“I don’t know,” Tony shrugs. “Pepper knows more about Y/N’s job.”

“Do you at least know where her office is? I want to thank her for doing a great job,” Steve believes he will go to hell for all the lies he told today. “Tony?”

“Sure…wait…let me check the…” Tony huffs. “I’ll call Pepper. Give me a minute.”

“Hi, can I come in?” someone knocks at your door right when you were about to have a snack. “Hello? Anyone in there?”

“Come on in,” you sigh. You will eat something later then. 

“Hi,” Steve Rogers pokes his head in. He doesn’t enter your office, only glances at you. “Can I come in, or do you have too much to do?”

“You can come in, Captain,” you jump up to open the door wider for Steve. “Hi. Uh-what brings you here? Is it about the incident at the shop?”

“I wanted to thank you,” he hesitantly enters the room. “You defended my…honor…I mean…you know what I mean.”

“Oh-that was nothing,” you play it cool. Steve Rogers makes you nervous. Like really nervous. He’s so tall, bulky, and pretty. You stare up at him, feeling a little lightheaded as he holds your gaze. “I only did my job, Sir.”

“What are you going to do with all of these?” he glances at the dildos in his colors, stored in boxes. Steve licks his lips.

He can’t tell you that the fact you are tiny compared to him makes his size kink go worse, or that he can’t think of anything but you since he saw you at the shop.

“I’m waiting for instructions,” you shrug. “I store them here until my boss tells me what to do with them.”

“What about the serum you mentioned at the store?” his eyes drop to your chest, wandering further down, stopping at your thighs. He inhales sharply as he images your legs wrapped around his waist.

“It was a fake. Someone sold green slushies tasting like spinach,” you drop your eyes to the boxes filled with dildos. “Most of the time they sell dildos or crap, nothing dangerous.”

“How about I invite you for lunch to properly thank you,” Steve offers. He shyly glances at your hand, itching to just grab it. “It’s the least I can do.”

“I was about to have a snack,” you lick your lips. “I could go for lunch, though. I haven’t eaten anything yet.”

He hums as you turn toward your desk to grab your bag and jacket. His eyes glued to your ass he feels his pants grow tighter. Steve bites his lower lip, chewing on it as he imagines putting his hands on you.

“Ready?” you glance over your shoulder, catching him staring. 

“Ready,” he clears his throat, acting as if he didn’t stare at your ass. “I’m glad you want to join me.”

“Me too.”

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[ronearoundblindly]

Threadbare (1)

Steve Rogers x Fashion Designer!Reader

Part One: Yield Strength (see series)

Summary: Steve gets to meet his favorite designer, and you get a surprise visitor at work.

Warnings: none. Maybe a bit of creepy behavior but not from Steve. Yes, I did just want to use the leather jacket gif for shiggles. What's it to ya? WC 3355

Steve Rogers hates stuffy functions. He hates the brown-nosing. He hates trying to convince people who have everything to give scraps to people with nothing. He hates watching the excess and indulgence, even when he knows it ends up giving something to those in need. He hates it. He hates the whole lot of these stupid, asinine—

Steve takes a breath and smooths his hand down the buttery fabric of a double-breasted jacket hanging next to his intended garment.

Ok, fine, he hates the functions, but he actually enjoys the dressing up part.

He didn’t used to. No. The only outfit outside of his Cap suit that ever truly fit him—before or after the serum—was his SSR uniform, and coming from a time of nothing, Steve accepted that as a huge win.

And then he woke up in this world of excess and—what do they call it? Fast-fashion?— realized that what should be easier to acquire was much, much harder to find: room to breathe.

Steve may roll his eyes at Tony’s custom everything, but he admits internally that at least Stark’s comfortable all the time. Steve would settle for being comfortable in his own skin.

This helps though, this gloriously draped, stiff in a supportive way, heavy in a grounding way, and shapely button down. He doesn’t need a whole suit tonight; it’s not that kind of event. In fact, Steve wasn’t specifically invited. He heard Tony talking about the new collection by the designer of this shirt—which happens to be the label for 90% of Steve’s dressier clothing at this point—and Steve outright volunteered himself to go with Tony.

See, Steve Rogers is now a big, broad guy, and it’s been an adjustment, as well as plain difficult, to gather a wardrobe that isn’t custom tailored due to his sheer size and proportions. The team jokes about his tight shirts, but if he buys things large enough for his shoulders, his waist swims in fabric. Steve had to live off of stretchy clothing for the first three years he was out of the ice. He wasn’t out of his Cap suit long enough for the investment to be worthwhile. Then it took another several years before he discovered Tovarich.

The man must know what it’s like to be big and broad, that’s for sure. Steve may not be much for high fashion, but he’s genuinely gotten so much comfort and enjoyment out of Mr. Tovarich’s work that Steve wants to thank him personally. For once, being Captain America is a good card to play to ensure he gets to meet the designer.

Steve adjusts his rolled sleeves a bit in the mirror, smirking at himself for being a bit of a dandy concerning his look right now, but he’s determined to have a good time out with Tony. It’s just a fashion show. How difficult can it be?

Really damn difficult, that’s what it is.

Steve isn’t prepared for the bizarre press interest in who is there instead of what is being shown. He’s used to cameras flashing at him—especially because the bright and loud pops of flashes were much worse in the ‘40s—but Steve’s in awe of the models’ complete indifference while walking a straight line with a straight face in some of the simplest, most magnificent men’s wear he’s ever seen.

If all he had to do was tick boxes on a list to order things, Steve would be in big trouble with a full bingo card and an empty wallet. It’d be worth it though.

Tony tries to talk to him every so often, but the music is outrageously loud. Steve can’t hear a thing.

He gets tapped on the shoulder by some women sitting behind him, and they try to say some more things he can’t hear.

Everyone rises to clap, and Steve joins in, overwhelmed by the fast pace of all the outfits on repeat, when the man on his other side accidentally elbows Steve and drops his program. The paper flutters to land in front of Tony’s feet, so Steve picks it up, hands it back, and the man makes an appreciative face before gesturing vaguely at the runway and mouthing his admiration. Steve nods and smiles, happy he’s not the only one fanboying over clothes.

The lights change in the venue. The photography and clapping stop. Tony starts yammering on about an after party, but Steve wants to meet the designer.

“Oh, Cap, that walk-and-wave was as close as you’re getting today. Tovarich is a hot commodity. I’ll just get you a fitting sometime.” He clamps a hand onto Steve’s shoulder and tilts his head toward the refreshments. “Shall we?”

Darn. Steve should have done more research on how fashion shows work, but he hates how invasive online snooping feels. It was fine when he was catching up on history and historical figures. However, most of the ‘news’ now is not news at all, so he avoids searching for information that way. He doesn’t ask question about Mr. Tovarich because, in theory, it’s none of Steve’s business and Steve may or may not be slightly ashamed at how obsessed he is with something as trivial as clothing.

Fashion is not something he thought about until very, very recently. The most time he’s spent worried about what he puts on is his tac suit, and the main features of that are being blade resistant and bullet proof. Those things don’t exactly interest him so much as they are in his best interest.

So Steve is rather disappointed by the outcome of the evening, but he’ll manage. For once, he’s got a tiny bright light of something to look forward to in the form of a few more dress shirts and a very sharp vest.

He goes on with life as usual.

Months later and they’re doing this thing.

It’s called the Hellfire Gala, and apparently, it’s a big, big deal. Steve’s told everyone goes all out, that he’ll need to be dressed to the nines, and he realizes this is his opportunity.

Tony’s elated to make the arrangements for him with the Tovarich Atélier and plans to go with him. He wouldn’t stop grumbling about how awkward Steve might be, raving that he can’t have Steve getting a bad rap under his clout, so Steve shows up nervous.

Tony sends a text saying he’s running late. Of course he is, today of all days.

Steve shuts his eyes and lowers his head in gratitude that there are only two seamstresses when he first arrives. The ladies—one older and one younger—offer refreshments and ask a few questions about the event and what styles he might be interested in. He explains the getup needs to highlight the ‘Cap’ persona since the gala is a celebration of their work as Avengers, but other than that, it’s the-sky’s-the-limit for Tovarich.

The younger seamstress smiles at that and calls it ‘fun.’

Sure. That’s one word for it. Steve would also call it daunting.

As instructed, he stands on a small platform while the ladies bustle about speaking quietly to each other. Steve hears Tony ring the reception bell before any measurements have started, and he heaves out a sigh of relief.

“In time for the good stuff, am I?” Stark winks.

“Always perfectly welcome, Mr. Stark,” you, the younger woman, say politely. “Would you care for anything to drink?”

“Uh,” Tony smooths his hand down his current suit front, eyes flickering to Steve, “have you met me?”

Your smile widens. “Dominica, please,” you signal to your coworker.

Between your fingers, you’ve folded a scrap of paper, something you scribbled while Steve stood awkwardly on the pedestal (which isn’t to say he has stopped standing awkwardly), and Tony snatches the paper from your grasp, unfolding it to make a challenging, inquisitive face.

Steve huffs and glares, praying his friend doesn’t start hitting on Tovarich’s employee before the man even shows up. Steve isn’t the one to be worried about.

Stark takes Dominica’s proffered tumbler of brown liquor, saying nothing.

You are a ninja with the tape measure, gentle hands sliding over his chest and waist and—Steve swallows—his hips, all while rattling off numbers…which no one writes down. Steve moves his arms and legs when told. When you’re kneeling on the edge of the platform, eye level with his crotch, Steve decides to distract himself and get some answers.

“I’ve been looking forward to my first meeting with Mr. Tovarich. When might he arrive?”

Tony clears his throat, wincing. “Not possible, buddy.”

Steve tenses.

“I thought that—“

“You can’t meet him for the the first time.” Tony holds up a hand before Steve can move. “You already did. She’s measuring the distance between your balls and the floor.”

Steve startles out a ‘what,’ snapping his legs shut with your hand between his thighs.

“Captain Steve Rogers, please meet your favorite designer,” Tony beams, shoving his tongue against the inside of his cheek and hiking up his eyebrows.

Steve shrinks, face burning.

“Hello, Captain Rogers,” you introduce yourself with a lovely smile, “I will…need my hand to make your suit, sir.”

His open-mouthed impression of a fish is cut short by standing at attention, releasing the seal of his thighs. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”

“Very polite,” you mutter before turning to Tony. “Mr. Stark, was that entirely necessary?”

“For the look alone, yes. My god, I’ll pay you again just to watch now that he knows.”

You push off the platform and practically skip over to Tony, reading over his shoulder. “How did I do?”

Tony looks at the piece of paper. “Damn it. Spot on,” Tony grunts.

“And that means…?”

“That I leave you alone for the rest of the consult,” Tony whines. “Fine, but make it worth it, buddy. Lady gets paid by the hour.” He snaps his fingers playfully. “Dominica, let’s take room two, my dear.”

Steve’s not sure what to do with his hands and mistakenly remains up high on the pedestal while you pull out a notebook and sit at a small table.

“Oh!” You look up at him with tender, lively eyes. “You may step down now.”

He feet seem to thunder to the floor even against the carpet. “I didn’t mean to—I just assumed that—I’m sorry, Misses—”

“It’s Miss,” you correct him. “And don’t worry. You are not the first, and you won’t be the last. Have a seat, Captain.”

“Steve.”

“Steve,” you correct yourself this time. “I’ll tell you a secret. I prefer that most people assume a man runs this business. You get to see people’s true colors when they finally find out.”

That doesn’t help Steve’s hot flush of embarrassment.

“You are one of the good ones. I can tell,” you add, adjusting to a fresh page in the notebook and marking the top corner.

In the silence Steve asks, “so you already knew my size?”

“You aren’t so different from my standard cut.”

“No,” he allows. Of course, he should have known that seeing as everything he buys from your label fits him so well. He kicks himself internally while trying not to frown at his slip up. It is, however, easy to keep a smile while basking in the glow of yours.

You pop your shoulder up into a shrug, lips morphing into a wry tease. “And I’m pretty good at what I do.”

Amazing, Steve thinks to himself. You’re amazing…at what you do.

Your elbow rests against the table, hand cupping your jaw as you hold Steve’s gaze.

“Some even call me a master of the male form.”

His swallow is deafening, which only makes you happier, and he looks down at his knee, rubbing his pant leg while his face heats.

“But for today’s purposes—“ you lean back in your chair, twirling your pencil playfully, a magic wand in your brilliant hands “—why don’t you tell me what makes me your favorite designer so I can make you my favorite client?”

Why’d you have to be so pretty? Why do you need him for so few fittings?

Steve has to stop himself from spending a Tony Stark-sized fortune on clothing for the pleasure of walking into your store and seeing you alone—well, in the hope of seeing you at all. Dominica is very sweet, sassy in a hard ass mom kind of way, and she’s one of four total assistants you have at the shop. Steve’s met three of them.

There’s just only one of you, and you’re busy.

Between his duties with the Avengers, actually sleeping, and debating with himself about what constitutes looking desperate, Steve is lucky to have caught you in-house only half the times he visits.

And then he tore a shirt. In fact, he tore three shirts, and to his credit, two of them were by accident. The third…uh, there’s a chance that when Steve exclaimed “oh shoot, I didn’t see that nail poking out” that he 100% saw that nail and deliberately brushed himself against that wall. He also may or may not have deliberately done it in front of Tony, faking that it was no big deal, because now he has the excuse that Tony is the one who told him to go see you.

Yeah, Steve agrees, if you say so.

He’s all excitement and nerves again when he rounds the corner of your street, but then the adrenaline shoots through Steve’s veins for a different reason.

A squad car has jumped the curb in front of your shop, lights flashing, doors left open, and Steve can hear lots of tense voices.

It’s a stressful enough day without the uninvited guest. Not many people—who know how you work and are not assholes—would dare to show up within a month of the Spring Show, without an appointment, and demand a rush job.

A rush job on a custom suit that you explicitly said could not be rushed before its scheduled time, mind you, but the surprise visitor doesn’t care.

Richard Fisk is broad. He has dirty blond hair that falls in front of his eyes when he tilts his head to smile. He often travels with a whole team of other imposing men.

The son of Wilson ‘Kingpin’ Fisk, however, is a prime example of personality souring good looks. Where it’s bashful and adorable that Steve Rogers hides his smile, Richard barely bridles his menacing entitlement.

You hate him, but he’s not a person you can outright refuse. He makes all of your assistants uncomfortable. Fisk is needlessly hostile to Tarik, who is thankfully not here today; he’s a creepy dick to Abby, who you insist stays in the fitting room with Anja, your longtime client who trusts you to push the envelope tastefully for a redheaded woman in her sixties; and he almost made Jules quit because he couldn’t follow instructions during a consult. Dominica stands in as the perfect buffer when she’s here, but the eldest of the Tovarich Atélier employees is currently on the other side of the city for a VIP delivery.

Your busy, busy day just got much harder.

His trio of beefy entourage flanks Fisk at the front of your shop.

“Here for my suit, sugar,” he drawls, flicking his used toothpick into a corner on the floor.

He eyes Abby as she shuts herself and Anja away from his direct ire, and although this leaves you alone, it stops your worry for their safety in addition to your own.

“As it stipulates in the commission, we take at least—“

“Those little hands are free now, I see,” he spits, stepping within an few inches of your face. His breath is foul and hot.

The aggression has you stumbling back, smashing into a side table and knocking a box of supplies to the ground.

“How ‘bout you get to work.”

You take in a heavy, fortifying, and quiet gasp. “Per your order, the fabric is manufactured off-site because teal is not a standard color. It takes time to produce. This was made very clear when you signed.”

Fisk flashes that menacing smile. “We can wait. One of these fine men can…keep you focused till you do your job.”

The condescending tone and disrespect of your work ethic spark flames of rage in your gut. Even though terror still simmers beneath, it’s too easy to let an insult fly.

“You’re lucky I’m even making it. The all white one last summer was a stretch, but teal? On you? Not something you can pull off.”

He lunges forward again. “Keep up the cheek, and I’ll lock you in my basement until I get everything I—“

“Ma’am,” a cop bursts through the shop door, “we got a call…” The officer goes quiet after one look at Fisk.

Abby must have phoned after hearing you knock supplies down, and you’re grateful, yes, but police are of little help with this guy. Cops wouldn’t dare ruffle Kingpin’s feathers or his awful son’s by proxy, but if you roll over now, you’ll never get back out from under him.

The only way forward is to put your foot down.

“Mr. Fisk, I wouldn’t make you a black and white striped three-piece if you did chain me in a basement. You’re a spring, and I have standards.”

“Ma’am,” the officer warns, his partner standing nervously in the open doorway.

“What kind of professional would I be if I let you walk around looking like a mental asylum inmate? I’m doing you a favor!”

Richard brandishes another toothpick. “The customer is always right, sugar.”

It’s stupid. You know it’s stupid to taunt him and yell. Being insulted and diminished doesn’t make you want to be smart though; it makes you want to be right.

Your hands ball into fists of fear and rage. “It’s my name on the label,” you bark, “and I could just refund you to get you the hell out!”

Now you’ve really done it.

The boy gangster’s face twists and his oral fixation goes limp in disbelief. No one talks to Richard Fisk that way, least of all women.

His men step between both the cops and their boss, leaving Fisk himself to grab a solid wood tie box from the nearest counter and fling it at your face.

Your arms fly up to block it, but nothing ever connects, nor is there a crash behind you.

An officer’s voice wavers from across the room. “Uh, I’m sure this can all be worked out. No need to…start anything.”

You’re ashamed to say that your hands are shaking when they return to your sides and reveal an entirely different bulky blond.

Steve Rogers casually holds the caught box in his hands, staring daggers as he shifts squarely in front of you to block Fisk.

“This doesn’t concern you, Captain,” the bully grunts. “Piss off.”

Steve strides forward to replace the box neatly and plants himself inches from Fisk’s face.

“Can’t do that. She’s expecting me.” He turns back to you. “Ready?” Steve asks with a tight smile.

You swallow down one iota of your alarm and clear your throat.

“Yes—” the word cracks but you hope familiarity will scare off Fisk for now “—thank you, Steve.”

That seems to be Captain America’s cue to handle everyone else at odds in the storefront. By the time you get control of your trembling limbs, Steve has shown Fisk the door and promised the officers that you’ll be looked after.

Abby peeks out of the fitting room, surprised to see only Steve.

“Did they send you instead?”

She opens the door wider for Anja to see.

The redhead quirks an eyebrow. “Call the police more often, honey. They’ve upped their game.”

The now bashful, broad blond tilts his head, rogue hair falling across his face. His blue eyes sparkle beneath long lashes while he apologizes for lying, but you can’t for the life of you figure out why he’d feel guilty.

“I…” Steve stumbles. “I don’t have an appointment. I just wanted to see you.”

Currently estimating four parts to this grumbling into the ether but who knows. I clearly cannot be trusted to estimate length anymore...

[Next Part]

You can find more to read on my Main Masterlist! For readers under 18, please see the Light Masterlist which contains all-age-friendly works.

@supraveng @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @femefetalelevelingup @darsynia

[battorlstuff]

A Real Dad

Chapter 3 - Gains Within Him

That same night everyone had agreed to rest and start tomorrow with the planned activities, Carlos entered the room shared with Frank, took off his clothes and looked at himself in the mirror flexing his incredible muscles without noticing the obese silhouette behind him. It was a strange contrast and even 'prophetic' for Frank, in the mirror Carlos' reflection showed nothing but hot muscles, a fit jock with a beautiful physique, but the shadow was that of an obese guy, that large silhouette hid the muscular silhouette of Carlos himself.

Frank looked at Carlos and approached, hiding something between his fingers, he wanted to wait until the jock fell asleep, but all those voices in his head of idiots and bullies seemed to come from that perfect physique in front of him. That broad back, those deltoids, Frank didn't even know the name of some of the beautiful muscles on Carlos' body.

Frank couldn't wait any longer, they were tired to go out, but nothing prevented them from having fun with Carlos today, right? He wanted to ruin him now, starting with Carlos' downfall, having power over someone like that for the first time in his life. One prick that's all it took to start the ruin of that sexy body.

"What..." Carlos jumped as he felt a sting on his right side, but he was distracted from it as soon as he saw Frank "Hey dude you scared me hehe..." As Carlos spoke the liquid Frank injected him ran through his veins and made the serum he drank begin to accumulate inside him reacting in something as simple as a growl in Carlos' stomach.

"You hungry big guy?" Frank asked unable to avoid the smile that formed on his chubby face.

"Well I guess it was a long trip...I gotta keep these sexy muscles you know?" Obviously Carlos takes the opportunity to show off his muscles, while Carlos felt so superior flexing his muscular body in front of him and contrasting with the obese Frank, the man only remembered his dream, and it all started with that red spot on Carlos' side.

"You're lucky, I know the owner... they'll open the buffet just for us..." Carlos thought Frank was smiling thinking about food, and he wasn't wrong, but Frank wasn't thinking about what he would eat but about how the young jock would stuff himself uncontrollably.

The man gathered all the dads immediately, it wouldn't be the party night Carlos was expecting certainly, but he wasn't the one who was supposed to have fun anyway. As they prepared to leave, everyone fell silent as soon as they looked at Carlos, some dads looked upset like Frank and others even looked jealous, standing there was the sexy jock with a buttoned shirt too tight on that muscular torso, the fabric allowed to see his hard pecs and even his perfect six pack.

"Ready?" Carlos smiled arrogantly, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt, revealing his juicy, muscular pecs.

They headed to the hotel buffet, some guests looked at Carlos drooling as soon as they saw him walk through the lobby, Frank gritted his teeth and couldn't help but look too, he just wished his sexy pecs would transform into the most disgusting and obese moobs anyone could ever see, and he would ohh he would make sure to give those hard pecs some attention. As soon as they entered Frank greeted the chef, and some waiters who seemed to have known him for years, the other dads didn't waste any time, they took Carlos to a table, practically dragged him and sat him down eager to get the night started. It was empty, just them and yet everyone seemed to be preparing to cater to hundreds of customers, they carried boxes of food and bags to the kitchen. The jock was somewhat puzzled by the men's attitude, they seemed too abrupt and excited at the same time, unlike Frank, who remained still and did not stop looking at him, nor the waiters who did not even bother to take his order, they just started to arrange everything and cook at Frank's request.

Carlos looked back at a young waiter who looked strange, closed the door of the buffet, gave him a sad smile and a look of pity admiring that tight body and that handsome face, as if he knew what was going to happen, what that handsome guy was going to lose... or gain.

It all started with a big plate of lasagna. Carlos even doubted that he could eat it all, but his stomach growled and he almost doubled over in pain as he felt a horrible stomach cramp, he took the fork and started eating. He had a strange need, his hands were shaking and it was hot, very hot, he was sweating more and more with each bite, he was hungry... too much, he looked around, why was it so hot? Why was no one else eating? Why was everyone looking at him? Behind him Frank kept turning up the heat enjoying watching Carlos drenched in sweat, weaker and more and more confused.

The food arrived at the table, the laughter, the looks...the hunger, the hunger didn't go away no matter how much he stuffed himself, he stuffed piece after piece of lasagna into his mouth and soon that big plate that he thought he would never finish was gone in a few minutes, another arrived, and another, the waiters didn't let his plate be empty.

"Mgggg...more...hungry...delicious...mghhh" Carlos seemed desperate to eat, chewing loudly and yet his stomach still wanted more, it growled and something inside him made him feel the need to eat more to calm the cramps.

The place was filled with a stench of grease and sweat, Carlos was giving off a strange and quite repulsive smell, his sweat was quite thick almost like oil... he was so hungry that he put everything that was put in front of him in his mouth and everyone made sure that he had food right in front of him, hamburgers, lasagna, burritos, nachos, bacon, cakes, fries, pizza... Carlos was chewing loudly and starting to pant, everything had become confusing, he was out of his mind, he didn't even use the spoons or forks anymore, he took everything with his hands and put it in his mouth as if he hadn't eaten in days.

They ripped off his shirt, his sweaty muscles in plain sight of everyone and those abs that Frank was starting to hate were shining with sweat, that oily sweat, although disgusting, made his sexy six pack look even more perfect. There was no trace of bloat even though Carlos had been eating for almost an hour, but Frank knew that was how things worked, he would have to endure looking at the jock's muscles a little longer, still the sight of the stud choking and stuffing himself was enough to get him horny.

Frank had to go to the bathroom he was so hard from watching that stud in that state, no self control, that muscled stud that could have been any of his college bullies was there being fed and ruined by a bunch of fat men. He started to masturbate, even in the bathroom you could hear Carlos’s gasps and the laughter of the fat men, he could imagine him, all his bullies and hot guys that had humiliated him in the past, they were all there being fed... ruined, every gasp was a mouthful, Frank came in buckets hearing Carlos gagging and coughing as he continued to eat, he came out of the bathroom and saw the confused guy chewing a big slice of cake, all the chocolate and frosting dripping down his pecs and abs.

Carlos didn’t know what was happening, there came a point that night when everything was spinning, the guys kept encouraging him “Come on chew faster, chew! What’s wrong jock you can’t do it anymore? Look at him under all those muscles he’s such a pathetic pig, I can’t wait for it to kick in give him more!!” the dads didn’t care to comment anymore anyway Carlos was stunned.

Even though Carlos wasn’t moving his arms the food kept coming, in fact he was motionless in the chair just his chest and stomach rising and falling as he breathed loudly, his abs and pecs moving somewhat strangely as if something under his skin and muscle was absorbing all the fat and calories the stud was ingesting or being forced to ingest. The food kept coming into his mouth, the other dads forcing more and more, though his muscles seemed intact with no sign of swelling. His tight sexy body was still there, but for some reason Frank’s sly grin didn’t waver as he watched him at the mercy of the other fat dads.

Carlos felt horny, too hot almost to the point of fever, all those chubby hands on his muscles, kneading his abs, he felt the discomfort of being full, that pain in his stomach, but there was only a sexy six pack...for now.

Frank approached him, putting a huge spoonful of pudding in him and smiling, watching Carlos swallow it all desperately, he smiled, pulling down his pants, he was completely naked, they began to masturbate him, he was so horny and in his mind there was only food, he didn't understand what was happening, it was overwhelming, he felt pleasure and disgust at the same time, but hunger, that damn voracious hunger wouldn't go away, it clouded all his thoughts and he let the men touch him without more.

The pudding kept coming into his mouth between moans, Carlos writhed in the chair, they touched him and masturbated him very slowly, Carlos couldn't be hotter, the sweat dripped staining the tablecloth and even making a puddle on the floor, a puddle that was joined by his semen when he came in buckets, but Carlos didn't moan, they didn't allow it, putting another spoonful of pudding in his mouth, making him almost choke.

"I knew you were hungry big guy..." everyone laughed while Frank put his chubby hand on Carlos' jaw and made him open his mouth then the waiters brought a huge beer keg with a hose.

It was a strange smelling alcohol with a milky appearance Carlos could feel that each sip made him hungrier, his beautiful body was covered in sweat and grease from the food, the table in front of him was full of plates, as if a large family had had a great feast, but it was just him eating, he came to believe that it was all a dream, the place was spinning he felt dizzy, but wherever he turned he only received food in his mouth. Everyone took turns feeding him, there came a point in the night when the stud seemed so out of himself that he needed the other parents to help him eat, putting their hands on the jock's jaw to make him chew.

Carlos was lying on the chair panting and almost unconscious as they shoved a last piece of sausage into his mouth and made him chew it. At that moment the young waiter from before approached Frank to tell him that all the food was gone, but that with the money he gave them they would have everything ready for the next night. Frank sighed, but he was more than satisfied.

"Alright gentlemen, the food is gone, time to take the pig to the pigsty..." everyone laughed and looked at Carlos seeing him slumped there in the chair, they knew he wouldn't be able to stand up on his own. Carlos groaned as they made him stand up, his tight body was still sexy and intact, except for all the dirt from the food, but the guy felt like he was going to explode, they put his pants on, but left him shirtless, Frank wanted everyone to see how that strong jock needed the help of some fatsos to even walk.

It was the strangest thing for someone like Carlos, so used to daily activity and exercise, so used to his tight and agile body. It was a tremendous effort for him to climb the stairs, he was panting and red, he looked strangely at the drops of sweat that began to fall again on the floor, was he dripping with sweat? they were only a few steps...ahghhhh...mghhh, it was strange to see that jock needing the help of some fatsos to climb the stairs and soon even to walk, almost begging for them to use the elevator.

It was impossible for Carlos to get to the room on his own after that feast, it was as if under those muscles and that tight body there was a morbidly obese and useless guy. He was sweating in torrents, huffing and puffing with every step.

"Mggggg...ahhhhh...pfggg...helpogggg" he grunted as they helped him walk and he almost tripped "Aghhhh pgffgg elevator…pleaseeee...." they just laughed at him and made him go up another step.

When he got to the room Carlos fell onto the bed. That night he had a horrible nightmare, he was in bed, and when he tried to get up he grunted and screamed for help, the room was dark and hot, he kept trying to even lift his head, but he couldn't, there was a great weight on him, one that kept him practically immobile and even made it difficult for him to breathe, then even in the darkness he heard footsteps and laughter, he felt that they were touching him everywhere, pulling here and there, poking and kneading... his fat? He felt like he was being pricked with some kind of pin all over as they mocked him, the light turning on...

"AHGGH...WHAT!!!...what is this?!!what happened to me..."he was obese...a fucking whale, his folds of flaccid fat fall down the sides of the bed, his disgusting mobs reach his ankles and make him sweat even more, they are practically stuck to the mountain of fat rolls that his abs had transformed into.

He could only watch and cry as these strangers played with his new fat, then they threw something on his face, their mobs those flaccid disgusting things were on his face preventing him from breathing, he was in a panic fighting, but he couldn't do anything while these guys kneaded and played with his obese moobs, he struggled to lift his fat arms and from the effort he farted uncontrollably causing more laughter, it was pathetic, never in his life had he felt so weak and vulnerable, he felt like his obese body was being pinched.

"Ugh it hurts damn...fuck...ahhh" while Carlos was trapped in the nightmare, the men had woken up to give Carlos a large dose of the serum, they laughed watching the jock writhe in bed sweaty, they poked every muscle, every abdominal, every pec and every inch of his biceps, his obliques were covered in little bites, and his legs looked somewhat swollen due to all the serum they injected him with.

Frank pulled out a briefcase, smiled telling the rest of the parents to give him a moment, they all stepped aside as Frank pulled out some long needles. He injected one into each of Carlos' 6 abs, who writhed and moaned on the bed, it was painful, and that's why Frank did it very...very slowly. A sickly smile appeared on Frank's face, there were even more syringes in the briefcase and they were all for those juicy pecs...the needles went in and out, Frank knew that one injection for each pec was more than enough but he ended up injecting more than 20 per pec...that was going to be disastrous, he couldn't even imagine the pain Carlos was feeling, but he supposed it must have been horrible because the pecs were red hot and Carlos even peed himself while he was pricking his chest. That mass inside him was moving uncontrollably now, stimulated by all that serum, surrounding his muscles and ready to come out as soon as Frank activated it, but the fat man was far from finished, he wanted Carlos as ruined as possible and for that he would have to feed him non-stop for a little longer, besides that was part of the fun of their trip.

[robowriting]

kinktober day 7: aphrodisiac

summary: a powerful aphrodisiac has leo too impatient to wait until he and keeper get back to their room.

“oi, keeper! come look at this!”

keeper turned to look at the bottle leo was pointing at amongst the street vendor’s wares. leo watched him eagerly as he read aloud, “fountain of life: for human male fertility.” 

keeper swung his head up to stare at him. leo could have sworn he saw some yellow laughter mixed in his keeper’s default electric blue. 

“keep reading,” leo insisted, grinning. 

he shook his head at leo and teased, “what are y-you, ten years old?”

“read it, keeper,” leo said crossly.

keeper looked back down and recited, “with o-our miracle serum, you’ll be pumping out- stars, who wrote this? -pumping out u-up to 10x more sperm. that seems a bit excessive, i-i-“

leo cut him off, about to burst. ”for the love of the moon and the stars, read their slogan at the bottom. please, you haven’t read the best part yet.” leo waited with baited breath. 

keeper’s lights got scrunchy with annoyance before looking down again. “with e-enough fountain of life, you’ll have enough sperm to get anything pr-“ keeper stopped reading, and released a loud peal of laughter.

leo grinned, elated at his reaction. “enough sperm to get anything pregnant,” he finished, drawing out the last words. keeper’s face was turning pink and leo decided he wanted it a shade darker. “they underlined it, keeper! for emphasis! do you think we ought to purchase a bottle? try it out, see if it works?”

keeper leaned in closer, making leo flush even as he smirked. it was only three nights before that keeper had nodded his head in vigorous agreement when leo whispered that he was going to fuck keeper until he got the droid pregnant. the memory made leo grow warmer and he took the bottle from keeper’s hand, wanting to hold hands or to pull keeper’s arm around his waist instead.

just then though, the shopkeeper finally appeared, bustling to join them behind the stand, his eyes bright on the bottle leo was holding. “apologies your sir, i hope i haven’t kept you long. that’s a fine product there, if you’re ready to make your purchase? i can ring you up and, if you don’t mind me saying so, we have some discrete packaging as well. i’ve had several customers come back and swear it by it, they’re dads before they know it-“

leo put the bottle down with a clatter. what had been a pleasantly warm tingle turned into a fierce blush, embarrassment all the way through. “no. stars, no” he rushed to say. “i’m not buying this, this isn’t something i need, we were just browsing.”

the shopkeeper eyed them thoughtfully. he then pulled out a box from below the table. “of course. these are some other products from that brand, if you’re interested. give a shout if you want to make a purchase, i’ll just be here.” and the man took several paces back with a clipboard and started sorting some boxed merchandise.

leo’s eyes met keeper’s face.

voice low, leo said, “be a good boy and pick out something for us to try tonight?”

”oh, a-absolutely.”

* * *

the label on the bottle read: enjoy the orgasmic state of the arthurian legend: Came-a-lot! polishing your mighty sword has never felt this good before. use our magical serum for much increased pleasure.

leo and keeper laughed all through the crowded streets, bustling with street vendors and customers. leo was deathly curious, and retrospectively could admit that he jumped the gun just a little bit. while keeper stopped at one final shop to look for a replacement part, leo pulled the bottle out from the bag. he read the label again, unscrewed the top, and sniffed the concoction inside. 

it smelled heavenly. sweet, sharp, and spicy. it drew him in, wanting more of it, until before he knew what happened, he’d brought the bottle to his lips and taken the smallest swig. it burned on its way down his throat, seeming to awaken his senses as it sunk into him. everything around him seemed crisp. he slipped the bottle back into the bag.

keeper made his purchase, none the wiser, and they trooped back to their lodgings, hand in hand. leo couldn’t stop his eyes from sliding over to look at keeper as they strolled. they got to their hotel, and as they strolled through the lobby, leo realized with a great rush that the serum had worked much quicker than he’d expected. much better than he’d expected, too.

keeper’s fingers tangled up with his set leo into a tailspin, as did the way that keeper’s soft voice was reaching his ears. he was listening, of course, keeper was talking about their plans for the next day and suggested ordering room service for leo tonight instead of going back out for dinner. but in a much more immediate sense, leo was focused on the fact that he was growing hard right there in the hotel lobby as they waited for the elevator. he waited for keeper to look away, and once he did, he risked a quick glance down at his crotch. it was growing more obvious. he tried to adjust himself, but the friction of his underwear against his cock was enough to make leo throw his hands away, for fear of it overwhelming him. 

‘much increased pleasure, indeed,’ leo thought to himself grimly. he just needed to make it to their room, and then he would fess up to not waiting to try to serum, and they could start their fun evening a little bit early. leo’s mind supplied images all too quickly: keeper on his knees, keeper’s hand wrapped around him, keeper sprawled out in bed just for him-

“leo? a-are you alright?”

leo returned keeper’s steady gaze, words seeming far away. he made an attempt. “i’m so… i already had…”

the bell of the elevator shook leo from his reverie. people filed out of it, and then leo and keeper entered. it was just them, and the enclosed elevator felt so small, like there wasn’t enough room for them to stand with any distance between them. leo leaned in close, pressing his shoulder against keeper’s. keeper was solid and strong and the touch of their bodies caused a hot trickle of heat to move through him. he breathed slowly, trying to keep a handle on the situation. he was fit to bursting, sure that if a breeze struck him the right way, he would slip into euphoria. 

keeper reached out to hit the button that indicated their floor. in such a small space, the smell of keeper’s engine oil reached leo’s nose and he nearly moaned. keeper turned back to look at him, sharp pinpricks of orange dancing across his screen.

”y-you’re flushed and your heart rate is high. is something wrong? you’ve been a-a little quiet.”

the elevator shuddered into movement. leo desperately clung to the words he could find and tried to arrange them, one by one. “i took a sip… of the serum already. i’m…” even saying the word seemed like it would push him over the edge. he hung his head.

keeper followed his gaze and the way his face screen lit up with red at the sight of leo’s pants tented made a small whimper leave leo’s lips.

keeper chirped, “y-you're so impatient,” and then leapt into action.

keeper whipped his head around to the button panel. they were halfway up the very tall building. he turned to look at leo and without another moment’s hesitation, reached out and cupped leo’s cock over his pants. before leo could warn him that he was about to burst, keeper drew his hand upwards, applying pressure and then his fingers stroked leo’s clothed, but extremely sensitive, tip.

that was all it took. leo’s hips pushed into the pressure of keeper’s hand hard, and then jerked with each wave of pleasure. he let out a small shout as the pleasure overcame him so suddenly, and the sound echoed in the sleek elevator. his head was filled with static or cotton or pretty, orange light, and all he could do was pant against keeper’s shoulder, where he found himself clinging.

the elevator slowed, and just a moment later, the bell dinged. leo hastily straightened and hoped that the wetness in his pants wasn’t too visible. the doors opened to someone waiting, and leo was sure that the flush on his face and the brightness in his eyes was unmistakable if inspected closely. keeper put a hand on his back though, and steered him through the doors, blocking leo’s body as much as he could. 

they rushed to their room, laughing once the elevator doors closed again, giddy and silly. leo stared directly at keeper’s not-quite-there metal arse as he unlocked the door for them, and said, “i wonder how long this lasts. it’s not going to take long before i’m ready again.” the prospect wasn’t quite as stressful at their room as it was in public.

door unlocked, keeper pulled him inside. they made quick work of his dirty pants, and by the time keeper pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him, leo was begging for more.

[creativeboxesblog]

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-Skin So Soft, Soft and Sensual Body Lotion

-Vitamin C Exfoliating pads

-Organist AppleCider Vinegar Clarifying Shampoo and Conditioner

-Anew Platinum Age Delay Serum

-Anew Ultimate Multi-Performance Night Cream

- Anew Hydra Fusion De-Puffing Eye Serum

-Beyond Glow Vitamin C 6% + Ferulic Acid Serum

- Beyond Glow Snail Mucin Complex + panthenol cream

-To top it off with a fragrance- My favorite! far Away!

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I will also have curated boxes available as well!

all future plan details will be posted after Christmas!

[511digital]

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[atvace]

Lady Dior and the Seven Dilfs

Chapter 5: Rabbit Hole

Masterlist

You tidied your bedroom a little to make it more comfortable. you did some sweeping, you cleaned the window, and pulled out your carpet. You have your beanbag, scented candles, and those carts with wheels in white to fill in your midnight cravings. you have 2 small fridges to store your skincare and cold beverages.

you ordered a customized mattress to place in the bed frame. if you weren't so lazy, you would've replaced it with metal. you have a full XL bed with soft satin covers, you have your varieties of Squishmallow on top and an Ikea Blahaj plushie.

Moving to the window with beige curtains, you have your own desk. well, Price or Artofay never really told you about having to do paperwork but you have your military laptop with cute stickers around it because you hated the dirty yellow color. Beside it, theres a round desk mirror with a portable lamp to do your makeup and skincare.

It's nice to see outside the window too while at it. your clothes are neatly hung on a clothing rack. below it, there are a few boxes of the heels you brought. you took your time admiring your hard work in your own room until there was a knock on the door.

"Hi, (y/n). can we come in?" Soap peered to your level with Gaz behind. you leaned yourself to the door frame, crossing your arm "Is it gonna be 'how was your room makeover' or 'can I lay in your bed', Soapy?" you smirked at them eyeing your bedroom. "How'd you know? should've used witch as your callsign" Gaz laughs. well, you're not wrong. when you were busy in your own room, Soap wouldn't stop talking about the empty ikea boxes in the base's trash bin.

"Please. I'll cook you... what does American like.. Oh, Cheeseburger!" Soap pleaded with a try-hard puppy eyes. "Do not touch my Squishmallow." you stated and he sprinted into your bed the time you moved to the side. "(y/n), Knowing well you've been doing this all alone, I genuinely think you did a great job decorating a whole room," Gaz commented as he was looking through your scented candles. "It's more than decorating, this is my therapy and work out." you smiled at Gaz.

"God this is the softest fucking bed I've ever been in.." Soap buried himself into your bed. You just chuckled at the two snooping around in your room. you sat in your beanbag scrolling through your phone.

Gaz opened one of your small fridge, he was confused at the content. "(y/n), I know you're rich and all but.." you look up to him "...you drink nia..cy an mide?" he squinted his eyes at your niacinamide face serum. your eyes widen in terror. "Jesus, Gaz. I'm sorry sweetie but please put that back carefully." you pointed at the small glass pipette bottle he's holding. "Oh, I'm sorry (y/n)" he did what he was told.

"It's my skincare thing. you know those jelly things girls wear..." You smiled and got up. "the fridge don't just cool the contents, it kills bacterias in it too." you explained. showing Gaz your skincare routines. "can we do that?" Soap's head emerged from your covers. "Do what exactly..?" you glance at your bed squashed by a humongous man. "Jelly on face thing. can we do that"

you paused and looked at Gaz who is nodding in agreement. "What's your skin type?"

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"Si," Price called. "Here is the last ammunition. it's best we store the combat supplies now. Have you packed?" he gave the last two boxes to Ghost. "I have, capt." He coldly said before placing the boxes and scanning the trunk. he noticed something he hasn't seen, the biggest box in the corner of the trunk.

"What's this one?" Price looked up from the table. "Which?" "The one with carved LD, rectangular black box." Price paused for a moment before forming his mouth into an 'ooh'. "Princess's, those are customized," he said clearing the table off. Ghost got irritated hearing your nickname. "your favorite, I see." he closes the trunk angrily, it made the other car alarm go off.

Price quickly turn the car down with a remote and sighed, "Simon, please." he leaned to the table facing Ghost. "She doesn't even have respect the first she sees me," He walked towards the captain. "she's all 'I wear what I want' bullshit, that's a liability to us, Captain." he crossed his arms to his chest. "Simon, this is getting out of hand." Price defended, he scoffed beneath his mask. "She's the one getting out of hand, one day she'll make a mistake and all she can do is say 'Oopsie Daisy' like a little bitch." Ghost's voice grew angry.

"Simon, you do not call your superior-"

"Was." Ghost refute.

"She was, captain. I admit it, she IS the FBI's world-class multimillionaire soo much above us, richer than four of us combined. claimed hundreds even thousands of honors authentication from the governor, I know." He pointed at the small pink Barbie heels toy Price got for you as a map dummy.

"but she was demoted for a reason, and I know she will make a nuisance on the field." He rested his tensed fist on the table.

"Simon," Price sighs. "If I demote you from lieutenant, does that make you less valuable?" he knitted his eyebrow and looked through Simon's eyes. Price made him tensed slightly. hearing the word 'demoted' draws images of you in Simon's mind, but he kept his head high. "Depends on the reason, captain."

"what if the reason I relegated you was because you don't trust your own teammates?" Price tilted his head, digging for another complaint from Ghost. if he says he's not dumbfounded at Price's statement, He'd be lying.

"If I were you, I would feel the same, Simon. but just for now, please. Her first mission with us starts tomorrow, and I hope that changes your doubt." He opened a multipurpose screwdriver set. Ghost then sigh in defeat and glanced at his tactical wristwatch. '3.45 PM,'

Price gandered at the time too. "You have two something hours until our team meeting. Might as well unwind yourself for a moment. I want the meeting less personal and more rational could you do that for us, Simon?" Price said whilst fixing a device, dismissing Ghost softly. "Affirmative. I will take my leave, captain." Ghost bowed slightly and left Price alone in the garage.

upon leaving the garage, he found out that the shed and range remained untouched. taking a trip to the cafeteria, he lost his tea appetite due to the sudden tranquility. he noticed the box of Jenga and uno Soap brought to play with the team is in the exact same place.

"too bloody quiet." He muttered. he also found out there was nobody in the main bathroom. "Soap?" his voice echoed against Soap's empty bedroom, the same goes for Gaz's bedroom. "Where the fuck is everyone." He heard his own heartbeat and footsteps bouncing in the hallway.

he ran his palm to the top of his head, slightly anxious. He enjoyed the silence, but too silent is suspiciously weird for someone as loud as Soap and Gaz. But soon then he realizes after that your room is the last chamber he have not checked. He noticed that the door isn't closed shut, he took his time to eavesdrop.

"AND THEN BOOM he got hit by a big ass truck!" Your voice resonated. "Whaaat?!" Gaz and Soap's laughter is heard after. Ghost sighs in relief and decided to glance at the sight. your room was rather dark, the only thing lighting up is your Bath and Body Works scented candles.

Soap wearing a pink skincare bandana with a heart-shaped plush in front of it. his face is covered in some kind of a green gooey jelly-looking substance. but his eyes and mouth remained bare. Gaz's wearing a yellow pineapple imprinted bandana too, but the jelly thing he smeared all over his face is pink.

and you are wearing a white bandana, your hair is neatly tied with a silk robe that reaches your knee. but your thighs were exposed from the slit of the side making you look illegally divine. you have black jelly slathering all over your face. honestly, you guys were just wearing a jelly mask. something someone like Ghost would have no idea about. you can wear a clay mask and he'd think you fell to a cow shit.

"When I was on duty in Cali, the radio of our car actually played TS's song. I think it was like Lover or something, Gaz? remember that time?" Soap tapped Gaz's shoulder as you continuously nodding while filing your nail. "Yeah, and since then Soap was all about Swifties." the three of you laughed at Gaz's statement. "I'm not sure about my song of choice though, I.." Gaz shrugged his shoulder. "I listen to anything I feel like. mostly Beyoncè." Soap tilts his head to you, "Remember that one time about the awards drama thing?"

you clicked your tongue and threw your nail filers to the side, "is it the VMA? like that one time when Kanye said something like 'this is suppose to be beyoncè' type of shit, like who the fuck does he think he is, I love Beyonce but TS deserves that win too." you gossiped while tilting your head to Soap. "Girl, you know I think he's giving-" "Desperation." You, Gaz, and Soap said at the same time.

"That dumbass, quote on quote MADE Taylor Swift famous while she was winning an award-" Soap flicked your Prada magazine page while squinting his eyebrows. "How does that add up???" Gaz replied. "I know right??" Soap rolled his eyes.

you were laughing with the two until the corner of your eye caught a glimpse of another life."...Ghost?" Your calling made the two of them jolted, only to see He's leaning in the dark inside your walls already. "(y/n), you're delusional no one is-" Ghost took a step forward letting the light from your candle illuminates him. "Bloody hell you're scary" Gaz hides his face with the magazine Soap is holding.

"People smearing their face with colorized mud versus my existence. I think you're more horrific." He sternly said. Ghost was actually impressed that you noticed his arrival. "It's called Skinwalker, Ghost." Soap exclaimed. "..Skincare," you whispered. "It's called skincare, Ghost." he tuned again.

Ghost rolled his eyes and walked towards the three of you. you were laying flat on your stomach in your bed whilst Gaz and Soap is on the floor leaning against your bed. "There's space here if you'd like." you put yourself in a sitting position and patted the empty space of your bed. he pauses himself before deciding to join the three of you.

but as he sat down, there was a pause between the four of you. Gaz, Soap, and you glanced at Ghost whose making the bed sinking into him as if he was a dark hole.

but not long after that, a small creak and the sound of the bedframe breaking down made you, Gaz, and Soap yelp.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Ghost watches you angrily dumping your duffle bag near his wardrobe. you were walking around his room placing down your necessities in certain spots. he lets you use his desk to put down a few bottles of your morning skincare.

"(y/n) I-" "Don't." you cut him off as you plug your mini skincare fridge into an available power socket. "I rather not talk about it, I won't beef about it I promise." You huffed your cheek in annoyance.

"Okay, you can use the bed on top. I'll use the lower mat-" "That'll do." you cut him off again. he was slightly irritated but your tone and words reminds him of how he'd treated Soap back when he was first assigned to him.

"Okaaay. I thank whoever is in the sky for whatever mess that happened tonight," you took a deep breath and close your eyes, locking your fingers together. "I hope with today's bad luck, tomorrow will go smoother." you exhaled dramatically. "Okay, I'm off to Capt's." you turned your back and left the room. "Byee." you sarcastically cooed as the door closes behind you.

Ghost sighed in defeat and eventually walked towards the door. but he couldn't help but notice a piece of Polaroid has slipped through one of your binders book. he didn't want to care but he's genuinely worried if it was important.

picking up the small square film, he flips it to see the content. God, you wish you saw his eyes widening in terror. it was someone's mug shot, with a concerning amount of bruises in the face.

On the board, it said 'Rick McRaynott'. Price's voice about your drug smuggling case that made you demoted replayed in his head. he looked over his own desk that you've occupied with her pink binder book and a few bottles of skincare he can't pronounce.

the cover of the book has a red lipstick kiss mark in the middle with a suspicious amount of doodles in the corners. on the center, it said 'Burn Book' with multiple cut-out letters. he scooted over and opened your book. On the first page, there was a thin FBI identification card with your picture printed too. it was inside a plastic and glued securely.

Federal Bureau of Investigation

(Y/N) (L/N)

Place and birth of date: Classified, */**/****

Rank: Executive Agent In Charge

status: Active on Field

card validity period: November 2025

Property of The United States Of America

in God we trust.

he sighed at the card and flipped the pages again. despite the repugnant content, there are multiple cat stickers and doodled flowers all over the pages. even a letter sticker saying 'Homicide UwU' and green tape with frog doodles around the edges of the page. he bit his tongue after recalling how many times he has snitched to Price about you because of his own personal hesitation. he felt guilty.

God, it looked like Leonard Lake's diary but it's all pink and glitters. he saw gruesome pictures of a soaked bloody machete with a note saying 'evidence weapon:3' in blue glitter ink. another picture of a presumably deceased Japanese man with the guts spilling out of a bathtub, followed by your handwritten note again. 'Koisheki (35), 8-10-2018' and a red stamp saying 'solved' over it.

he rubbed his temper in stress because there are multiple gut-wrenching pictures of the victim's dead body. but he lost it in the mug shot pictures with again, your handwriting. saying:

'Mateo X - Rania Gianvito Rossi Pumps'

'Alba R - Emmy London Rebecca Suede Pumps'

'Elioud H - Louis Vuitton Patent leather nude pumps'

he killed multiple people before, he saw gushes, wounds, and unexplainable injuries and he treated them well. but something about your 'Burn Book' surprisingly took a chunk out of his sanity. he never expected himself to discover that the classified stuff you went through before demotion was something that can shake his senses.

"Bloody fucking hell," He quickly places Rick's mugshot on the empty note saying '8 Inch black heels PLEASER BEYOND' assuming that it's where the film belongs.

he fast walked from his room towards Captain Price's office. rethinking his life choices about going through your binder clip. As he was walking, he thought about all the contents. Mid-walking, he stopped in his tracks and inhaled sharply at the sudden realization.

Those abhorrent pictures in the mugshot weren't just assaulted criminals. it's your handwritten records of which high heels you've beaten them with.

you've been working alone. you tortured those bandits by yourself, with your heels.

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹

"Alright," Price spread open the rolled map on the table, right in the center of the room. Ghost's eyes haven't left your head, but you didn't notice this. Price placed a few pawns on top of the map and colored Sharpies. the small pawn toys consist of a Barbie heel, a skull toy, a cap, a fish, and a bullet. "How come you get to be the cool one?" Gaz picked up the small fish toy. "I think the fish reminds me of you when we went fishing in Islamorada." Price chuckled as he wrote down something with the marker.

your eyes glistened in awe as you pick up the small pink Barbie shoe. you felt Soap's hand around your shoulders. "Let's be tactical, yeah Dior?" He chuckled to you as you look up at him. "affirmative, sir" you playfully leaned to his side.

Time flies as Price plans out the mission. for some apparent reason, the kidnapper hasn't really contacted anyone in the authorities for bail money. After a few talks and conclusions, the hostage is needed alive. you pointed at a specific spot on the map, "Hostage situation is always needed alive. Unless a ransom is fulfilled, they either dismiss her or eliminate her. But in this case, Its obvious that they don't want our interference." you concluded.

"I think it's best if we do a translucent scout complaisant...which sounds stupid." You said, placing your Barbie heels on top of the Scrabble in the map. "...bargain search and clear?" Gaz commented at your statement. "That sounds stupid too, I guess."

"That's not a bad idea, Dior." Price moved his bullet pawn beside yours. "Soap hijacks cctv, Gaz look out. Capt and Lt could do the sweeping," You drew a few lines around the map. "And you? gonna sit still?" Ghost hissed. "I was about to say I'm gonna lurk with Soap's vision but since you said that, maybe I'll change my mind." You sarcastically shrugged.

"Bloody fuckin hell." He muttered. "Is 'bloody fuckin hell' your signature catchphrase or all british says that" you raised your eyebrow which irritated him. but he held back after the content im your book replayed in his mind. "I think that was extraneous but I do agree about the lurking part." your eyes sparked at Price's.

"(y/n), are you going to use your compound?" Soap drawed a few lines in the map, which caused you to look at Price with sad eyes. "we have that choice, you think the one you broke is the only compound in the world?" he chuckled. "I mean, I'm confident to hit streaks. maybe I'll need a lot of arrows that can crush skulls." You place your finger in your chin, "For plucking eyeballs, I need the ones with a contracting stemmed bullet point." you added.

"we have that. were heading to the headquarter first before Urzsk, I'm sure they have multiples kind of arrows with a bunch of stocks." Price said looking down proudly at the plan they've discussed. "or you should hold at least two handguns, just in case." Gaz continued, you smile at him in agreement.

Task Force 141 decided to intelize the kidnapper, bait with bail, get to the location, clear and go home. easier said than done, thats one. "They won't hesitate to kill her if we made the wrong move, I think the biggest responsibility will be at my stake." you tightened the bow in your robe. "Then don't make the wrong move or shake the pot." You frowned at Ghost's statement.

"Alright off to bed you kiddos, we should leave earlier in the morning, avoiding rush hours. pack for a week, snacks for 3 hours, I drive. dismissed!" Price clasped his hand and tidied the map. you rolled your eyes and left the room.

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹

You stretched yourself in your...well, Ghost's bed. but technically its kinda yours for a few night until they replaced your bedframe. but you have your covers and a fluffy blanket to keep yourself cozy.

you used your eyecover and layed facing to Ghost's bed. usually at this hour, you're busy scrolling TikTok to see Leon Kennedy thirst trap edit, Tumblr to see Miguel O'Hara nasty fanart or Ao3 to catch up your favorite fanfics of other fictional dilfs you worryingly simp over but tomorrow is a big day for you.

you heard the door creaking open and closes. you knew who it was so you don't bother to see who it is. you could hear him laying on his bed and taking his time to position himself comfortably. you pay no mind.

"(y/n)-" "No." you cut him off. your peace is disturbed as you feel your jaw is gripped with strong palms, yanking you up from the bed. "You bloody fucking look at me, y'hear?" you pressed his buttons too much now.

"Well I definitely can see you right fucking now, Ghost." you hissed, your eyelids fluttered as he ripped your sleeping eye mask off. "Hey!" you slapped his wrist off your jaw. his hand is fucking hard. "You rip my shit, I'll shove your balaclava up your ass!" you take over your eyemask checking for any signs of torned. "What is wrong with you? are you mad at me because I drank tea with milk or what?" You faced him fearlessly.

"Nu uh, you're just bloody fucking annoying," he sternly said. "and you better not fuck up tomorrow's mission." your mouth falls agape at his judgement.

"Fuck you mean nu uh, I ain't done shit." You crossed your arm in annoyance. "You better have some respect for your lieutenant tomorrow, because we're going tactical, you fucking demoted shit." He threateningly pointed at you. "When the lieutenant has earned my respect, then I'll be fucking tactical, brits." You fumed to him, he glared daggers to you and tilt his head disturbingly whilst you put your eye mask back on. "I'm sorry?"

"apology accepted." you pull your blanket over your head, huffed and sleep facing back from him.

He was stunned.

Ghost, a man of war. there's no way he is going to sleep easily, hell the last time he slept comfortably was definitely when he came to his apartment back in Manchester. Which was a long time ago, he has severe insomnia.

You were softly breathing in your sleep, which was good. you definitely didn't have dirty thoughts about your fictional men before you fall asleep. Ghost in the other hand, he has your binder book in his bed and his laptop dimming the light. everytime you turn in your sleep, he'd briskly pull his cover so you wouldn't see your book in his hands if you were about to wake up.

he enjoyed the silence and the soft muttering you made as he was researching your past cases. he found out a lot of things.

your personal beef with Sheperd, the classified governer's website and how to access them. A lot about Kate Laswell and other people. he even managed to dig himself into your records back when you're in a private military school.

He sees your flaw, your strength, your insecurities, pictures of your childhood, pictures of you proudly cuffing your first felon, picture of you and Kate Laswell when she got married to her wife, and a copy of your demotion letter. with a handwriten sticky notes below it

'Fuck the military' he rolled his eyes as he read it.

he found out about your mom, but not your dad. which is weird to him. he actually gets to learn about you, even your ex lovers. he knows your specific customized starbuck drink, knew your favorite food, your period cycle, knew why you were so petty to everyone, your Leon Kennedy obssession, why you bitch a lot, why you wear heels all the time, why you-

"No please don't.." Ghost pulled his covers in reflex. "...Dad, could you not do that... I can't.." he gazes his eyes to you sleep talking.

"No I dont like this, can you make it stop... please"

'Jesus, she better not be cryin, I ain't paid enough for that.' he got up and sat in his bed watching your voice shifting from talking to whimpering, listening to every word you muttered in your sleep.

Unfortunately, his expressions changed when you started to hyperventilate.

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Top 10 New Year Gift Hampers to Surprise Your Loved Ones in Style

As the New Year approaches, it’s the perfect time to express your love and appreciation with thoughtful gifts. New Year gift hampers are a fantastic way to surprise your loved ones in style. They combine practicality with creativity, making them a memorable choice for family, musketeers, and associates. Whether you’re looking for commodity luxurious, substantiated, or gleeful, the right gift hinder can leave a lasting print. Then’s a companion to the top 10 New Year gift hampers that are sure to spread joy and cheer.

 

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 New Year Gifts for guests 

 When it comes to professional connections,  New Year gifts for guests  should be elegant and sophisticated. Commercial gift hampers with decoration teas, epicure eyefuls, ingrained scrapbooks, or leather accessories reflect thoughtlessness and appreciation. These hampers not only leave a positive print but also strengthen business connections. 

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 Celebrate the New Year with meaningful gestures that showcase your love and gratefulness. With courteously curated New Year gift hampers , you can make the season indelible for everyone in your life.