#I don't think he wears the same outfit twice | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vivwritesfics · 21 days

Text

Max Verstappen Shirt

The fans and fellow wags don't like it when she wears the same out fit to a Grand Prix. She doesn't much care

There were quite a few things Max liked about dating an ordinary girl. 1) she had no idea who he was. 2) she had no idea who his friends were. 3) she didn't expect anything from him.

Max could get takeout for them while they watched a movie and she would be happy. He didn't have to take her out to fancy, overpriced restaurants. He didn't have to take her out shopping for a new outfit every time they left the apartment.

Now, Max would have done all if this I'd she asked. But she didn’t ask. She appreciated him the way he was.

It was a little while into their relationship before Max took her to her first Grand Prix. Her outfit was cute and extremely weather appropriate. A cute top and a cute pair of jeans. Max walked her through the paddock with his hand on the small of her back.

When Max won, he ran over to his team, jumping into their arms. And then he was taking his helmet off, replaced it with his hat and walked over to her, kissing her slowly. (It was captured on video, and circulated the Internet for weeks. Every time it came across her feed, she couldn't stop herself from sending it to Max).

At the next Grand Prix she dressed as well as she could. The jeans were the same, but the top was different. Her outfit was both complimented and criticised online.

Not that she saw the criticism. No, all she saw was the video of Max kissing her after his win. Of her wrapping her arms so tight around him as she peppered kisses all over his face beforing giving him maybe the most memorable kiss of his life.

She knew Max had money. She was aware of it every time she flew in his private jet. Every time she stayed in his Monaco apartment. Every time he drove her in his cars. She knew he had money, but she didn't want him buying her stuff.

No, that wasn't the reason she was with him. She wasn't there because he was an F1 driver, because he could buy her everything she ever wanted. She was there because he was a cute, slightly dorky guy that she wanted to spend every waking minute with.

She remembered the first time she wore the same thing twice to a Grand Prix. The outfit was so cute, but it didn't matter how cute it was.

So far, all of the other wags had been so lovely to her. They were kind, but she hadn't been around long enough to really be friends with any of them.

It was Daniels girlfriend that pulled her to one side before the race. The two had spent the most time together out of any of the wags she had met so far (aided by Maxs friendship with Daniel).

"Hey Love," she said, wearing a charming smile as she wrapped her arms around her. "I love the top. Have I seen it before?" Daniels girlfriend asked.

Y/N couldn't help but grin as she looked down at her top. "Thanks!" She grinned. "Found it really cheap, wore it to Monaco," she said.

Daniels girlfriend sucked in a breath. "Well, as a general rule, Wags don't wear the same outfit to two grand prix," she said, her hand on her shoulder. "Not unless they really have to."

The way she said it, she was clearly implying something. But she wasn't the only person thinking it. There were people online saying the same thing.

"Well, nice catching up," Daniels girlfriend said and walked away, leaving her alone.

She couldn't bring herself to look dejected as she walked back to the Red Bull garage. Unlike other Wags, she didn't have the funds for a new outfit every race. Max would have been only too happy to buy her a new outfit for every Grand Prix if she asked.

But she wouldn't ask.

"What's up?" Asked Max as she walked towards him with an unintentional pout on her lips.

She quickly replaced the pout with when she looked up at him. "Nothing," she said. "Just hold me."

Doubt and all kinds of negative feelings consumed her. But she was a fighter and she needed to do something about it.

There are incredible things you can find on Etsy, like This Shirt Right Here. She bought herself one. No, she bought herself five. The first time she turned up wearing one, it was iconic. The second time she went to a Grand Prix wearing one, it was still iconic.

If the wags and the fans had a problem with her wearing the same thing to each Grand Prix, they could suck her dick.

2K notes · View notes

ooffmlsorry · 6 months

Text

OP Men Dating a "Girly Girl"

A/N: sorry this took so long and I haven't posted anything original in a minute my life is mess and I'm so very tired jfc...I know this isn't more than my usual group but I was just gonna stop at Luffy and then decided to add Ace and Sabo as a thank you because writing these and putting them on Tumblr has been really good for me, so thank you for always being here to indulge me 🥲 ❤️

Sanji, Zoro, Law, Luffy, Ace, Sabo

Sanji

Let's be honest, girly-girls drive Sanji craaaazzzzyy (not that all women don't, but he's definitely more partial to the feminine ones) Your make-up, pretty skirts and dresses, jewelry, and manicure, he can't help fawn over you constantly 😍Although you do it because you enjoy it, it's nice that your efforts are so appreciated!!

He spoils you soooo baaaddd!! He literally can't help himself when he sees something pretty or cute that reminds him of you, he has to get it for you. You're drowning in squishmallows at this point.

A river of blood shoots from him every time you show off a new outfit. You're going to kill him and he'll thank you for it.

Dressing up in nice outfits together, especially on date night, is a shared activity that you love to do together. Y'all are living your best happily ever after lives.

Ya'll definitely have scheduled self-care nights. You put on some slow music, open a bottle of wine, draw a bubble bath, all that.

He's utterly useless when it comes to helping you pick your outfits or makeup if you're stuck because he loves you in everything, it's too hard for him to pick. You're his perfect, beautiful Y/N-swaaaaan 😍💖💖✨

He does love to see you in pink or red though so he might default to those colors

Don't try to test your makeup on him lol, you're going to re-awaken the gender identity crisis...I mean Kamabakka trauma

Listen...I'm not saying Sanji has a mommy kink...I'm not even at Whole Cake Island so idk wtf is going on there. All I'm saying is if you give this man a bath, wrap him in a towel to dry him off, and rub him down with luxurious lotions and oils, you might awaken something...that's all...👀

ZORO

He has no clue wtf you're doing. If it weren't for the fact that there's no proof that witches exist in this world, he'd think you are one

He looks at your vanity full of serums, creams, scrubs, lotions, etc, not to mention the makeup and he's like "??????" Just completely baffled

But what do you expect? This man would use that five-in-one Irish Spring soap if he could.

Just because he doesn't understand it doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate and admire the fact that you have extensive knowledge in something he can't even comprehend

He knows you like nice shiny things, and again, while he doesn't get it, he does think it's really, really cute when you go starry-eyed over a necklace or an outfit in a store.

In the same vein, he knows how much you love cute things and animals. He has absolutely found a cute animal in the jungle, picked it up, and brought it to you just to show you because he knew you'd love it.

Sometimes in his own gruff way he'll agree with you that it's pretty cute. Thank you for helping this manly man admit things are cute and that's okay.

Other times, he's the one making sure you don't get distracted because it's so cute

Unfortunately and fortunately, you're pretty to him no matter what you do to yourself so it's all kind of a moot point to him.

You can try to ask him about which 'x' to wear, sometimes it's helpful because he'll throw out a really practical answer and then other times he's like "How 'bout you just go naked" 😏.

He'll wear a face mask with you like...twice a year. And he's going to bitch and moan about it but he does it because he loves you. The entire process is like trying to give a cat a bath "WHY IS IT SO COLD? THIS STAYS ON MY FACE FOR HOW LONG???"

Exfoliate this man at your own risk...I'm dead serious that water is going to be brown

LAW

I need you to know right now this man will let you paint his nails!!! I mean, not like gel or acrylics or anything, but he'll let you paint them any color as long as it's a dark shade of that color. You once designed Bepo on his middle fingers. He did in fact flip people off a lot more often when he had them.

Let's you wear a pastel boiler suit because you he loves you and wants to see you happy

Much like Zoro, he's got no clue what you're doing. He'll stand back and watch you while making the exact same face as the gif above.

He thinks he's being stealthy peaking around a corner to watch your morning or night routine, but you quickly catch on. Please please pleeaaassee ask him if he has any questions because he does. He's just really curious why you're doing what you're doing and what it does. It's basically skin medicine and he's really fascinated.

Knowing that you like shiny things makes his life admittedly a little easier, it's not that he doesn't think of what to gift you, he puts A LOT of thought into what he gives you, but knowing that earrings, necklaces, and bracelets always make you happy is great just in case of analysis paralysis or he forgets. Sorry.

Also you wearing the jewelry he gets you does something to him, especially a necklace he can pull on a little, mmhhm you're making this man struggle with impure thoughts.

You both love cute things, it's something y'all connect on. It's really good that you help him access that very neglected inner child of his and encourage him to coo and fawn over adorable animals with zero reservation.

He'll do skincare with you too when he's not super busy. He can admit it's kind of nice to sit in bed with a book, glass of wine, and a face mask and just bask for a minute

He acts like he hates when you rub serums across his face and use a derma roller on him but he loves it

Law doesn't really pay attention to your clothes, but when you really go all out he breaks out in a sweat and he can't keep his eyes off you.

LUFFY

I'm not saying he thinks it's stupid, it just...why have an hours long care routine when you could be going on adventure with him??? 😭😭😭

He will help you pick out your makeup but don't expect it to look good. You're gonna end up with neon orange eyeshadow and green lipstick. Like literally every "My Boyfriend Does My Makeup" youtube video.

Plays around with your stuff but that's because he has no idea what all these strange contraptions are. The moment you try to explain his eyes glaze over and next thing you know he's whisking you away to go do something more fun.

He likes the shiny bright stuff (highlighter), makeup probably is the only part he even remotely engages in because it's

Explain how contour works to this man and watch him lose his fucking mind, he thinks you're a shape shifter now (honestly this applies to all of them except Law and maybe Sanji)

He never notices what you wear, Nami is gonna have smack him on the back of the head to get him to realize you put on something fancy

Luffy points out everything, it just so happens that things he points out sometime happen to be cute animals

Hides in all the stuffed animals and squishmallows in your room to surprise attack hug you

*throws mud at you* "Is this the kind of mud you like, Y/N??" He really means well though.

You know those hair masks with all natural ingredients like honey and banana? Yeah, he's gonna start sucking on your hair like spaghetti...I'm so sorry.

He'll bathe with you but that's because he wants to be close to you, it's definitely not about being pampered or relaxing.

Try to put a face mask on him or something else and it'll just become a game of tag around the Sunny. You can't catch him and he's having a great time outrunning and outwitting you.

He knows this is all important to you so even though he doesn't get it he'd never make fun of you for it and the moment someone calls you "extra," he's kicking their ass.

ACE

Maybe all the glam is a little silly to him but that just makes you extra cute!

He will also absolutely let you paint his nails. Hell, he'll let you do a full beat on him just for fun and he'll wear it for the whole day because he's so unserious lol

...As long as he gets to do your makeup after...Much like Luffy you're gonna be covered in neon colors that don't even remotely match, but you guys have a great time lol

Admittedly likes to be pampered by you when he gets back from a long mission.

Please take a bubble bath with this man, it's not like the water is ever going to get cold!

I'm pretty sure you'd legitimately lead to Ace taking better care of himself. Got this man out here talking about his cuticles and shit lol

Honestly, it's really good for him because self care leads to self love and Ace needs a lot of help with that.

He tells Pops about all the stuff you do 1.) because he loves you and 2.) he hopes some of it will help Whitebeard heal a little, god bless him 😢

All of your hardwork doesn't go unnoticed, he legitimately gets kind of misty eyed when you really dress up because he's so so so lucky. He swears he doesn't deserve you.

He always brings back some kind of gift even whether it's a cute plushie or something exotic to wear from all of his long travels

I need to stress how much this means to him, everyone of these things is like a little proposal because he already knows you're it. Every little gift is leading up to a ring from this man.

He's also just genuinely impressed by the skill it takes to do your makeup so well, especially after he tries doing it on you

Much like his little brother unfortunately, he does play with all the little contraptions in your vanity, especially in the beginning because have you seen an eyelash curler? He's so confused lol

SABO

Sabo and Ace truly are his brothers because he really don't get all the effort lol

Admittedly, a lot of that is because he thinks you're so hot already what's the point???

Once he gets this is just how you are he's less confused, he's probably the most normal out everyone. He lets you do your thing, although he's really curious how you managed to always look amazing while being in the fucking revolutionary army!!?? Where are you getting the time???

If someone were to intrude on y'all on a free afternoon you're both in fluffy robes with face masks on and Sabo loves to pretend to act like a bitch when he's in selfcare mode with you lol

"Are you seriously bothering us right now, ugh! I can't even right now!!" And then you both break out in laughter

He really thinks you should teach others how to contour and do makeup because it has great applications for disguises and infiltration.

And brags about your skills to everyone

Wonders how many of your makeup supplies could actively be used as a weapon *eye roll* jfc Sabo

There's a part of you that secretly worries all your boujieness will remind him of his blood relatives, but he assures you that it doesn't because you have a good heart and he never doubts that

Besides, being a little extra with him helps him associate those things he used to associate with his blood relatives with you instead so it's even better

He spoils you so bad, but with a Sabo-flair, ie. stealing from shitty people and bringing it back to you because you're oh so more deserving of nice things let's be honest

He gets jealous of the cute animals that you squeal over hehehe, please hug him when he starts pouting

He'll always wear a little pink just for you ❤️

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x reader headcanon #luffy x reader #law x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #ace x reader #sabo x reader

1K notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 3 months

Text

the force is strong with him

pairing: darth vader x reader

summary: various ways vader manipulates the force around you

cw: smut - minors dni, toxic relationship (it's literally darth vader), improper use of the force, sensory deprivation/overstimulation, manhandling, don't like, don't read.

happy indy day @hanasnx !!! okay i know i'm a bit late (for your time zone, at least) but uhhh. i was watching indiana jones and building legos okay i promise i was thinking about you the whole day. anyways vader is sexing you soooo hard for your birthday. so so hard and mean.

You are so much more, so much different than a partner to Vader. You're allowed autonomy, of course- what you eat, drink, wear, read, watch is up to you- provided the outfits are selected out of the closet he stocks for you, and the meals are taken at his right hand. But in the desolate grey walls of your lover's in-progress battle station, nothing but vacuous emptiness beyond its walls, your autonomy has merged with his own complicated being, and more often than not you find yourself being directed by the invisible Force that guides his life.

He strides a half-step ahead of you down the halls, but a tight ring of pressure still encompasses your bicep - he's got you in his grasp, even if there's a disconnect between the bruising force around your arm and his curled, leather-clad fingers. He makes elegant, sweeping turns, and you do the same only because he makes you- he's still holding tight to your arm with the Force. If you tried to keep going straight, or turn the other direction, your arm would be separated from its socket.

You obey; the joint stays in tact.

He is particularly fond of nudging you aside with the Force. He doesn't need to - he could wait for you to catch on that he's trying to move past you, or he could simply shoulder you out of the way with his broad frame. But instead an invisible wall bumps into your left side, and you stumble to the right as it prods you sideways, making enough room for the black-clad figure to sweep by.

It doesn't matter if you huff and puff at him, 'I could have moved myself, y'know!' or if you stutter out apology after apology, 'sorry-!', he answers it the same each time. A silent, head-on stare from a menacing mask with no eyes.

Being regarded by your lover is as terrifying as feeling the Force suck the air out of your lungs, and you endure both. A thrill shoots up your spine whenever you hold eye contact with the mask, and Vader is more than happy to stare at you for as long as you'll be stared at. Blinking does not shift his attention; it is a staring contest that cannot be won. Only continued, prolonged, dragged out until your eyes flit elsewhere, and his remain fixed on your figure, watching, always watching.

He doesn't often need to restrain you- who would dare make that mistake twice? - but he does catch you once, only once with his lightsaber.

It had been set carefully aside for your lover's stint in the bacta tank, and you'd stolen it away to your chambers to inspect it. You've always seen it at his side- never out of its holster unless it rested in his black leather grip, and it's been intriguing to you since the day you'd seen it. You'd never gathered the courage to touch it before, though, not until you were confident you could squirrel it away while Vader was unconscious.

The hilt is heavy and cold in your hand- so heavy, so cold. You know the blade inside vibrates with plasma as hot as the fire that had warped your lover's skin, but it feels so soul-suckingly frigid that you're amazed it's ever been used. It's the weight of a thousand kills, the crimson of gallons of spilt blood, and it rests heavily in your hands.

You're only aware of the footsteps steadily pounding towards you after you're frozen in place, limbs suddenly locked- tied with zipties that can't be cut by your mortal hand.

Vader doesn't lecture you- not right away, at least. Instead he thumbs the triggerplate of the saber in your hands with one finger of the invisible hand that's holding you still, and the red blade hums to life mere centimeters from your face. The heat stings at your skin like a swarm of wasps, itchy, tight, hot stinging. It paralyses you only further, and your eyes yearn to widen where you're being held as a statue.

"That is what a lightsaber feels like when it is an inch from taking your life." Vader rasps, his voice mechanic and bone-chilling, "I urge you not to find out what happens when that inch disappears. I will take it away myself if you dare handle my weapon again."

He snatches it away from your grasp, but your hand is still trapped in his cosmic grip, molded perfectly around the hilt of his blade.

"See to it that you do not make me kill you." He speaks plainly, robotic voice inherently devoid of emotion as he towers over your frozen form, "I would not like to spend time replacing you."

Vader's insertion of the Force into your life is present even in sex. Sex with Vader is convoluted, something he enjoys very rarely in its traditional sense. But to reward you for your unfailing loyalty and obedience, you're pleasured quite often, and Vader revels in manipulating the Force around your body.

Sometimes it is merely that invisible hand prying your thighs apart, dipping into the wet warmth of your cunt and spreading you open for him to see. You're sure it's an obscene view, your cunt bared and open and hollow for him to watch as it expands and contracts around a girth that isn't there.

Other times, however, it is darkness, it is the absence of sound, it is the emptiness of floating in a void of your lover's creation. He steals your senses, takes your sight, your sound, your touch. He isolates you in your own body, you can no longer feel the sheets beneath you or hear the rustle of them in your fingers. All he lets you hear is the raspy rhythm of his respirator, not even your own sounds.

He does it because the less you can hear of yourself, the louder you become. You're sheepish to scream when your own ears pick up the sound, but when he blocks it from your senses, your shouts reverberate around the desolate grey walls of your chambers and each one fills up a meter of satisfaction inside of him that he didn't know was still active.

All he lets you hear his him, all he lets you feel is him.

Sometimes he leaves you in the void- all sound and sight and touch absent - for minutes. Sometimes it is an hour, until the surface of your skin beads with sweat and your brain itches desperately for sensation. Then a finger that isn't really there- that's just an extension of the leather-covered one that your lover is holding out beyond the inky blackness of your consciousness - plunges into your cunt, and the only sense you can feel is the penetration. After minutes- hours of feeling nothing, that single thick finger dips past your slit and shorts out the neurons in your brain. It is everything, it is something after nothing and it is Vader watching intently with that permanent stare that you can never escape.

It is touches far too few in quantity that make you squirt and writhe like you've been fucked within an inch of your life. It is something mysteriously disembodied tweaking at your perked nipples, something phantom putting pressure against your clit.

It is Vader, and it is the way he merges his autonomy with yours as a reward for your unfailing loyalty and obedience. You serve him and now you are granted a space within his person- budge over there below his mechanized lungs, settle into the weary cage of his ribs, stay a while.

#darth vader x reader #darth vader imagine #darth vader smut #darth vader fanfiction #darth vader oneshot #darth vader x you #darth vader blurb #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin skywalker imagine

393 notes · View notes

y2kuromi · 1 month

Text

⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗛𝗬𝗣𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗦 : yuuta okkotsu x reader

࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: the thin line between being friends and lovers is one you thought yuuta would never cross, until he does

contents: no curse au. a smidge of angst. fluff! mutual pining. kissing (how scandalous) maki and toge play cupid. second person pov.

it's early spring, the sun had long since set and the cherry blossoms were in bloom. pale pink petals drifted on your window sill as you gazed out the misted glass.

you were trying to focus on the paragraphs about active sites and substrates in front of you. you'd read the same lines over and over again without absorbing anything. your heart simply wasn't in it. you wanted to talk to someone, not just anyone. your best friend.

if you could even call him that with how distant he'd been over the last few weeks. the two of you had known each other for as long as you could remember and had always been inseparable, but that wasn't the case recently

he was almost a stranger when you talked, barely acknowledging you or any of your actions and his responses to your messages seemed detached when he bothered to text you back

you glanced down at your lock screen. streams of messages varying from toge asking you to play fortnite with him to maki telling you about the gossip she'd heard from nobara. but nothing from yuuta.

you exhaled loudly as you tossed your phone onto your dresser. you missed him but you wouldn't push it. after all, you didn't even know why he'd suddenly fallen off your radar.

you flipped through your biology textbook absentmindedly, skimming over detailed diagrams of organ systems and leaf cells. the words seemed to float above your head and your thoughts circled back to yuuta.

did you do something? no. that wasn't it. if you did maki wouldn't have been able to keep it from you. your mind raced, trying to figure out what could've caused so much distance between the two of you you're so engrossed in your thoughts that you don't hear your door creaking open

"hey" a familiar voice makes you snap your gaze up to find yuuta standing in your doorway. you're startled, undeniably so and for a second you think you've conjured him up. you blink once. twice he's still there.

"i hope you don't mind me coming over, your mom let me in" yuuta rambled "do you have minute to talk?"

you know you should tell him you don't have a slither of time for him. you know you should tell him to get lost. but you don't. because somehow every single thought you have is drowned out by his dark blue eyes.

"sure, i've got a biology test tomorrow but it's just on enzymes and transport in animals so i can study later"

"great!" he grins, shutting the door behind him. he pads softly over to your bed and sits cross-legged beside you. his smile turns more sincere as his blue iris meet your (e/c) ones. he watches you intently and you feel slightly self conscious under his scrutiny.

it's shallow, but you wish you'd opted for studying in a more flattering outfit instead of an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. it's stupid because yuuta doesn't seem to care about what you're wearing.

"what did you want to talk about?" you asked, closing your textbook and setting it down on your bedside table. a sick twisted part of you hoped he wanted to talk about the two of you.

it wouldn't happen, there was a line between what was left of your friendship and anything more that you and yuuta would simply never cross. you knew that. so you didn't understand why the words he uttered next had your heart shattering into tiny fragments.

"i've got a date tonight" he fiddled with the hem of his shirt as he spoke, blissfully unaware of how the words ate you alive. of how they chewed you up into a pulp and spat you out ruthlessly.

your smile faltered briefly, it was barely noticeable — you were quick to mask it with a wobbly grin. your throat suddenly felt incredibly dry as your gaze dropped to your hands. they were balled into fists as you dug crescents into the soft flesh of your palms.

"i asked this girl in my geography class out, you don't have any classes together so i'm not sure you know her...." he says, raking a hand through his dark hair. his voice sounded distant. as if someone else was speaking for him. like he wasn't really there

maybe you really were dreaming. you had to be. yuuta wouldn't do this to you, he couldn't be that cruel. you knew that. yuuta would never hurt you. you were his best friend, he loved you. his love was pure and blameless. it was anything but cruel ( it was everything but romantic )

"....she's really nice, i think you two would be good friends" he beams. it was slowly sinking in that he really had a date — a date with someone else. a date with someone who wasn't you. it stung.

you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy tugging at your heart strings. the twisted feeling was closely followed by one of guilt. it wasn't right to be jealous. you were just friends. that's all you'd ever been.

"i'm really happy for you" you say, the words dripped from your tongue slowly, deliberately — drenched in false sweetness and blind loyalty. he deserved to be happy , you just selfishly wished it was with you

"thank you" he says softly, dark azure blue eyes sparkling. the expression on his face was so warm. so familiar. you wanted to reach across and take his hand. to hold it tightly. to keep him close to you so he wouldn't leave again. but he wasn't yours. and you were sure he never would be.

"so...why are you here? shouldn't you be getting ready for your date?" the questions came out harsher than intended, but yuuta wasn't fazed. he's oblivious to the bitterness in your tone, he's oblivious to your feelings.

"i need your help" he admits sheepishly, "i've never been on a date before so i thought you could teach me the basics" the confession brings a slight flush to his cheeks and his fingers tap nervously against his knees.

you blinked once, twice and then shook your head lightly. you'd waited so long for him to notice your feelings. and now he was asking you for advice?

the universe was cruel. undeniably so. it seemed to be laughing at you. mocking you for thinking your best friend could ever view you in such a light even if you only dreamed about it subconsciously.

"let me get this straight" you sighed, rubbing your temples " you want me to teach you how to go on a date?" yuuta nodded earnestly, a small pink tint creeping across his cheeks

"yes please" he was so cute. so perfect. you couldn't say no to him. even though he hadn't spoken to you properly in weeks. you wouldn't say no to him. not now, not ever.

"there isn't much to say in all honesty, it'll come naturally to you so just be yourself. you're a really sweet guy yuuta, any girl would be lucky to have you" you felt tears prickling at the back of your eyes

you weren't lucky. you were absolutely, unequivocally, cursed.

"what if she wants me to kiss her? i've never kissed anyone before i'm kind of nervous about it" he said shyly, his cheeks reddened with embarrassment as he stared intently at your covers.

"i doubt it'll come to that" you murmured, "you don't have to kiss on the first date, it's better to take things slow"

"have you ever kissed someone on the first date?" yuuta asked curiously.

"that's a bit of a personal question isn't it?" you mused, "but i have" you reflected on the clumsy clashing of lips and wandering hands you'd experienced after mediocre first dates. nothing worth writing home about.

there were no sparks flying, no currents coursing through your veins. just unfeeling touches as you tried to find someone, anyone to fill the void. but they were never anything special. they weren't yuuta.

"can you teach me?" the question caught you off guard. he was staring right at you, those deep blue eyes searching your soul.he seemed nervous, unsure of himself.

"what?" you resisted the temptation to gulp audibly

"can you teach me how to kiss ?" he asks slowly, pronouncing each syllable carefully. like he was testing the waters to see how far he could get.

"kissing isn't something i can teach, it's just something you figure out besides how would i even go about teaching you how to kiss?" you rambled, wringing your hands in your lap.

"you could kiss me" yuuta suggested with a bright, hopeful grin, he held your gaze with unwavering intensity. his voice was unusually steady and clear.

"i can't do that" you splutter. the words tasted bitter on your tongue. yuuta's face falls and he's quick to avert his gaze.

"why not?" he sounds genuinely perplexed. it was a good idea, a great idea even. he didn't understand why you were so adamant about saying no.

"because, we're friends" you say the words through gritted teeth "and i'm not going to kiss you when you're going out with another girl. it's not fair to her" and it especially wasn't fair to you.

not when he'd ignored you for days— not when you were hopelessly in love with him.

yuuta stared blankly at you, brows furrowed in confusion as the words processed slowly in his head. you watched him, gnawing at your bottom lip. this sucked more than being ghosted. you wanted to cry. to scream. to do anything but deal with this.

"you should go yuuta" you said quietly, "you're going to be late for your date" you forced a smile which only served to make him frown even more.

"are you upset with me?" he asked anxiously. this wasn't supposed to happen. if maki's hypothesis was right, pretending he had a date tonight should've result in you blurting out a confession and ending this stalemate "i'm sorry"

"don't apologise" you sighed, "i'm not upset....maybe a little, i just think you should get going. it's rude to keep your date waiting"

maki's hypothesis was wrong. so wrong. he'd gotten his hopes up for nothing. it had taken him time to process his feelings for you, and he'd gone about it in confusing ways. this was a last ditch effort to fix things. and it was a bust.

he could see your friendship — his whole world — falling apart because of him.

he wasn't sure how to tell you that you consumed his thoughts wholly. that you were the first and last thing he thought of every day. that he couldn't envision a future without you. he was trapped by his feelings for you and he selfishly prayed the truth would set him free.

"there isn't one" he admits, " there's no date.. i lied so you would kiss me" his gaze met yours again, you blinked owlishly. none of this made any sense.

"you wanted me to kiss you?" you repeated incredulously. "why would you want that?"

"i don't know if you ever noticed but i'm in love with you" he says firmly, a serious look etched onto his features. your lips parted slightly, and your breath caught in your throat. "i needed time to process how i felt and being around you made that too difficult"

you sat in silence for a moment, trying to process what he'd just said. yuuta okkotsu was in love with you. not the girl from his geography class that he'd conjured up. you. you didn't expect to hear these words coming from him. never in a million years.

"i understand if you don't feel the same way. it's selfish of me to say such things after being so cold to you and i'm sorry i lied" his words crashed into each other," not that it changes anything it was maki's idea. i asked her if i had a chance and she told me this would answer my question—"

"why would you listen to maki?" you interrupted, bewildered. he shrugged, it had seemed reasonable at the time. though he should've been able to tell she had something up her sleeve from the glint in her gold flecked eyes.

"she knows you better than anyone and i was desperate because toge told me someone asked you out after school today and i was going to lose you if i didn't do something quickly" he confessed, running his fingers through his dark hair

"you've always had me" you said softly, this sweet, caring, innocent, adorable soul, had no idea how much you liked him. and it was the most obvious thing in the universe.

he lets out a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding. relief floods over his pale skin, the smile on his face is so wide it looks almost painful. "that's a relief"

"you had me fooled" you laughed, "maki'll thank you later, i was a few moments away from calling her in tears" it's a bit embarrassing to admit out loud, but honesty seemed to be the theme with both of you tonight.

"you care that much about me?" he asks hesitantly. it's almost impossible for him to believe it. you'd both placed each other on a pedestal, thinking that you weren't good enough for the other. but sharing the mutual understanding that you were better together

falling in love with your best friend was no longer deemed an unfortunate curse but a blessing "you don't know the half of it" you admitted, brushing his hair away from his eyes.

the lines between friends, and what you are now are blurred mosaic tiles that cloud your vision. yet all you can see is yuuta. he's yours. wholly. his beautiful smile and his kind heart, every inch of him.

the sound of his heartbeat filled every single inch of your brain. it drowned out the obnoxious ticking of your pochacco alarm clock, it drowned out the chiming of your phone — probably with texts from maki and toge — it drowned out the giddy feeling in your stomach as his blue eyes lingered on your lips

"can i get that kiss now?" he asks shamelessly. you can feel your heart hammering as his hands brush against yours. you nod silently.

you could feel yourself drowning in the oceanic pull of his eyes. the tides are threatening to pull you under. but yuuta is holding your hand and pulling you impossibly close to him until your noses brushed against each other softly and you could smell the spearmint and cherry blossoms lingering on him

you're not sure who closes the gap as your lips ghost over each others. it's tentative and hesitant but it feels right. he tasted like love, in every sense of the word.

he was different from the boys you'd gone on dates with. yuuta kissed you gently, with feeling. he kissed you like he meant it. that's all it took to make fireworks explode inside your chest. that's all it took to make you fall in love with him all over again

#ִֶָ 𓂃˖ mimi writes?!#⋆ 𝓳.jk ﹕#𓂃˖ letters from: yuuta #yuta x reader #yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #yuta x you #yuta x y/n #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #⋆ characterisation for this was TOUGH #a literal mess but #yuuta brainrot

250 notes · View notes

alonetimelover · 7 months

Note

Do you think you could do a blurb of competitive swimmer!y/n? I always see blurbs of y/n being different types of athletes but never a competitive swimmer lol. Face claim could be kaylee mckeown?

pairing: Harry x swimmer!reader

fc: Kaylee McKeown

a/n: I am so sorry it took me so long to make this request, but despite that, i hope you'll enjoy it!

masterlist taglist

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by ynupdates, hArrysbtch and 45 302 others

harryupdates HARRY followed YN YSN. YN is a competitive swimmer from Australia, and she's been following Harry for a while (she stated multiple times that she's a fan)!

view all 2 201 comments

ynupdates 'i mean, i always request his [harry's] songs at practice. i think he's great' GIRLLLLLL

⤷ ynsmybestie she manifested, i think

hArrysbtch isn't she an Olympian?

⤷ ynupdates she is! gold medalist too!!!

harrysmoustache ohhhhh, i see somethin cookin

user93 why

user023 that's odd but im gonna wait and see what this unfolds

ynsmymama girl, teach me how to make my crush notice me

——————————————————————————————

ynupdates

liked by ynsmybestie, harryupdates and 8 302 others

ynupdates YN via her IG story!!

view all 102 comments

harryupdates oh, she's hilarious!!!

ynsmybestie my poor baby! i would react the same if Chros Evans followed me

⤷ ynsfan39 i would react that way if SHE followed me

⤷ ynsmybestie true!

hArrysbtch oh i already love her

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by ynupdates, hArrysbtch and 93 302 others

harryupdates HARRY VIA HIS DELETED IG STORY !!!

view all 4 202 comments

hArrysbtch iendjskiw

hArrysbtch what the fuck

hArrysbtch i don't know what to react to first? like....

hArrysbtch ONE DIRECTION SHIRT?????? HAVING A CRUSH????? COPING YN'S STORY????

ynupdates ijust know yn is smiling so much and kicking her feet

harrysmoustache i just spend some time on yns ig and let me tell you: she's beautiful, she's successful and she's hilarious! Good for you harry

ynsmybestie well.... he's having a concert in Sydney soon

⤷ harrysfan93 why does it matter?

⤷ ynsmybestie yn said multiple times that she wanted to attend at least one night in Sydney! i just hope they somehow meet each other!

harrysfan82 harry, learn how to use your close friends or correct ig account

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by yourbestfriend, harryupdates, harrystyles and 103 202 others

yourinstagram 🍒 out! i think i won't be able to jump around though... unless...

view all 10 202 comments

yourbestfriend i have tape, babe! you're gonna be jumping and not flashing people for free!

⤷ yourinstagram life saver!

ynupdates have a good night!

harryupdates this is what i call THE outfit

hArrysbtch and SHES HOT???? fuck off

harrysmoustache i love women

harrystyles red is definitely my favourite colour

⤷ yourinstagram favourite enough to sing cherry for me?

⤷ harrystyles nice try

⤷ ynsmybestie yn blink twice if you're freaking out

⤷ yourinstagram *blink* *blink*

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by ynupdates, stylesbabie and 78 302 others

harryupdates "Why so many of you are wearing red, huh? What? Oh! You guys work quick! I'm not blushing, go away! Go away! I'm not singing Cherry, it's y'all's fault!" HARRY TONIGHT IN SYDNEY

view all 3 202 comments

hArrysbtch he was blushing so much, oh god!

harrysmoustache he's smitten

ynsmybestie i know yn was giggling there

⤷ harrysfan40 she was! i was standing near her and she was blushing too!

stylesbabie harry has a cruuuuuush

harrysmylife i think we gonna witness the beginning of the great relationship

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, harryupdates and 193 302 others

yourinstagram all hearts for the fruit man 🍉🍒🍇🍓🥝

view all 12 202 comments

yourbestfriend oh we look good good

comment liked by harrystyles and 3 201 others

ynupdates night 2 baby!

harryupdates i can't wait for another interaction tonight!!

stylesbabie i swear im not drooling

harrysmoustache i still live women

harrystyles no red?

⤷ yourinstagram who said im not wearing any red?

comment deleted

ynsmybestie yn, baby, i saw that comment, and i have one sentence to say: you naughty naughty girl, get that man!

——————————————————————————————

The audience for the second show in Sydney was incredible. The energy beaming from the crowd and towards Harry was almost overwhelming, hard to believe in. People were jumping and having the time of their lives. And so did Harry. Especially because of one of the audience members that was very special to Harry for the past few weeks.

"Okay, guys! Now is the moment for some talk, isn't it?" Harry screamed into the mic and smiled when the arena was filled with screams and whistles. He loved the love he was receiving. "Today was incredible whether, did you guys catch some sunlight, took a walk, swim maybe? You guys know how to swim, right?"

Once more, people around Harry screamed from the top of their lungs, but he got his eyes on that one person. Just her.

"What is it, that the person that swims the best in this room screams so quietly, huh?"

He took a few steps forward to get closer to where YN was standing with her best friend. She just shrugged at his question and grinned at him, eyes shining.

"She's shrugging. Well, what do I need to do to make you scream more, goldie?"

And that was the moment when Harry really regretted the question he had just posed. Or maybe regretted wasn't the best word to describe it. Let's say he wished he asked that in a more private setting. Though he didn't mind the loudness that the question had caused.

"A few things, really!"

Harry was surprised that YN was able to be heard but smiled at the response, giving her a thumb up.

Well, maybe there really was something growing between them.

——————————————————————————————

hArrysbtch

liked by harryupdates, ynupdates and 34 202 others

hArrysbtch this is harry right after asking yn what he could do to make her scream more and her replying with: a few things.... boy, you had one job

view all 2 101 comments

harryupdates he was so extra tonight!

ynupdates the flirting went to another level

ynsmybestie he called her goldie 🫠

harrysmoustache he could flirt, smirk, tease but he decided to just do the 'thumb up' smh

ynsmybestie oh they're gonna be together in no time !!!

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by yourinstagram, hArrysbtch and 102 204 others

harryupdates HARRY SWIMMING IN SYDNEY TODAY! YN WAS SEEN WITH HIM!

view all 5 302 comments

ynupdates show-off

hArrysbtch i know he wanted to impress her

harrysmoustache the back muscles...

yourinstagram feet not placed properly, and twisted posture

⤷ harrystyles i thought it was 'that is very nice, harry'

⤷yourinstagram i was talking about you back muscles

⤷ ynsmybestie girl, have you seen yours? they are immaculate

⤷ harrystyles i agree

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 201 302 others

yourinstagram swam, dined and wined with you 🧜🏻‍♂️

view all 14 302 comments

harrystyles is that... is that a merman?

⤷ yourinstagram didn't you say you felt like in h2o just add water?

⤷ harrystyles naur

harryupdates soft launch!

ynupdates you looked beautiful!!! where is that dress from?

⤷ harrystyles it's Gucci.

⤷ yourinstagram no, it's not. it's my mom's dress altered to my measurements, love!

hArrysbtch she's soo beautiful

ynsmybestie how did you manifested baby?

⤷ yourinstagram pure luck this time

——————————————————————————————

a/n: here we go with another athlete!reader. i feel like im collecting them like infinity stones. two down, more to go...

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles instagram #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fake ig #swimmer!reader

542 notes · View notes

rustedhearts · 6 months

Text

blue christmas (boxer!steve harrington x fem!librarian reader)

summary: it's christmas time, and your boyfriend's traveling the country kicking ass. will he make it home in time—or will you be spending christmas alone?

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the king of the ring (1989) ✶ christmas carols ✶ main masterlist

tags: christmas!; descriptors for libby's friends but of course, not libby; kinda hurt/comfort (she's just a sad girl!); fluff; alcohol consumption; nothing major.

"i'll have a blue christmas without you. i'll be so blue just thinking about you. decorations of red on a green christmas tree, won't be the same dear, if you're not here with me."

— blue christmas, elvis presley

hawkins, indiana. december 1989.

“I can’t believe you won’t be here.”

The ribboned rubber of the telephone cord curled around your finger. You pouted at the flowered fabric of your bedspread, imagining Steve in a little Christmas sweater he’d never wear—but he’d be here. Cozy, warm, big and bulky under layers of cable-knit.

Christmas was in three days, and your boyfriend wouldn’t even be here.

“I know, angel,” Steve sighed through the phone. “‘m sorry. I wish I could."

And he does. It's your first holiday season together—your first winter full of fluffy white snow, and cold afternoons that make you want to curl up and sleep the days away. It was the season of love and affection; the time of the year meant for nuzzling noses and burying in coats for warmth.

You imagined so many times what the holiday season would look like if Steve were here to stroll through the town square holding your mittened hand. He'd come up for weekends—twice since the beginning of November—but it was never long enough. He'd get in Friday night, and have to leave Sunday morning. You never got to sleep in and feign domestic bliss, tangled in his sheets in the white, early light.

Too many times, Steve kissed your head in a half sleep and whispered his goodbye; a note on his pillow where his head was supposed to be.

Angel,

I'll miss you more than ever.

—Steve

"Me too," you mumbled, pout evident in the huff and puff of your quiet words. You let your chin fall to your arm propped on the edge of your bed, glaring ahead at your wallpaper.

The house fogged with warmth from a home-cooked meal roasting in the oven downstairs. Your mother had a jazzy Christmas tune pipping from the stereo on the counter. Your father—last you checked forty minutes ago—was reading the paper in his armchair beneath the yellow lamplight of the living room. Your brother was somewhere up the street getting into trouble with his friends, driven to boredom without school to keep them busy. You had a Christmas party to attend tomorrow night, and you still hadn't picked an outfit, or wrapped your Secret Santa gift.

"Baby," Steve sighed. "C'mon, don't...don't make me feel bad."

You rolled onto your back. "I'm not, I'm not...I'm sorry."

Commotion clattered behind Steve—hotel doors opening and closing, voices muttering. The bed springs squeaked with his shifting. Your chest ached and squeezed with what you already knew was coming.

"I gotta go, angel...I'll call you later, alright? Be good f' me?"

You pinched your eyes shut, willing the stinging to stop. You nodded without words a moment, and then heard the buzz of his waiting. "Okay...love you."

"Love you too, baby. Bye."

"Blue Christmas" spun on Lisa's turn table in the sunken den of her parent's basement living room. Still stuck in 1975 and decorated by her mother for the sole purpose of hosting cocktail parties, it was the perfect place for Lisa to hold her first "adult" holiday party: pink shag carpet, silver-tinseled Christmas tree, pastel wrapping and perfect bows, and geometric decor of diamonds and stars on the wood-paneled wall.

Lisa, Holly, Tammy (and even yourself) dressed in their best getups, hair and makeup perfected for Polaroids. They already snapped enough to cover the end table, and in every single one, your smile never met your eyes. You were too concerned with ruining Lisa's highly-anticipated party to be a drag, but the lack of Steve really weighed on you.

"Oh, honey," Holly sighed, padding her way over to you. She flopped onto the sofa beside you, arm wrapped around your shoulders. "You miss him real bad, huh?"

You sighed, head falling onto her arm. "That obvious?"

She sipped her (fourth) cocktail—something red and fruity and rimmed with crushed candy cane. "You haven't spoken a word in thirty minutes. It was just a hunch."

"I thought he'd at least...try to be here. I mean, he doesn't have a fight until next week. He could fly back and forth—but maybe that's...not right of me to ask that."

Holly hummed, setting her coupe glass on the Polaroid table. She turned to you, blonde hair neatly curled and pinned on either side, and pursed her glossy mouth.

"It's not too much to ask, hun. If he wanted to be here, he'd be here. He said he loves you, then he wouldn't miss your first Christmas together."

You peered at her, wondering if this were true. From their place near the tree, arranging gifts and flicking through Elvis albums, Lisa and Tammy looked up.

"Oh, that's not true!" Tammy squawked. "He's just busy. They're talkin' about him all the way in New York now."

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, stomach twisting. "They are?"

If Steve were truly gaining popularity across the east coast, you had more than just a missed Christmas to worry about. You sensed its arrival—his fame and popularity. Steve was up and coming, and he had an aggression not many fighters had these days. He had the drive, the passion, the determination. You saw it all in his eyes. You knew he wouldn't stop until he was the best, and he wasn't afraid to make the sacrifices necessary to be just that.

And maybe it was selfish of you to want him all to yourself—but you've never felt this way about anyone before. Steve was everything.

"Oh, Libby," Lisa cooed, hurriedly rushing your way. Tammy followed, and soon they were all surrounding you, perched on the sofa and the coffee table.

"It'll be okay! He loves you, it's so obvious. You just have to realize...maybe his career will always come first. You just have to find a way to be okay with that," Lisa offered meekly.

You nodded, but only because your tongue felt like lead in your mouth. The girls glanced at each other momentarily, and then Holly stood in a flash of sparkly, bubblegum pink and glitter.

"Well, to hell with Steve! Let's get drunk and open presents."

The glasses drained themselves, really. The records spun and scratched, the pretty, gilded wrapping paper shred to pieces, and the girls in the den soon became nothing but giggling messes. When you got bored of the music, you turned to the television, turning the knob until you reached a fuzzy, pixelated picture of It's A Wonderful Life, though the static-y voices fell on deaf ears.

"Oh, it's darling, Libby, really," Holly gushed, holding up the pink satin slip you gifted her for Christmas.

Holly was easiest to shop for—she'd be pleased with anything pink, soft, and fancy.

"I'm glad you—hic!—like it. And I love my book, Tammy. It's so beautiful."

The book, a cloth-bound classic, was wine-colored and gorgeous. It was so pretty you didn't even want to put it on the shelf. It would sit on your dresser for a little while to look at.

Lisa gave Tammy a pair of red Mary Janes, and Holly gave Lisa a new set of hot rollers. The remains of the wrapping paper sat in bits and pieces around you on the carpet, and you had to shoo away Lisa's cocker spaniel, Lady, before she ate it all. She trudged into your lap, shedding soft hair over your dress as you stroked her long, floppy ears, watching the pink-flushed faces of your friends through the glowing white light of the Christmas tree.

Despite Steve's absence, you were happy. You had your friends.

The giggles faded when the doorbell rang through the house. Lisa waved it off, peering up the steps of the den toward the first floor. "Probably just a caroler. Ignore it."

But the doorbell rang again. Lisa huffed, and Tammy and Holly giggled as she fumbled up the steps. In her absence, they turned to you, all gushing over each other's presents and asking after more cocktails. They kissed at Lady in your lap and tossed popcorn at her waiting mouth, and you fell in line with the amusement until Lisa's socked feet came flapping into the room.

"Libby, Steve's here."

You weren't sure you heard her right. The giggles dwindled again, and your hand stilled over Lady's head in a half-stroke. Your heart was in your mouth, pulsing dumbly.

"W-what?"

Lisa, out of breath and wide-eyed, had her hands on her hips with an ecstatic smile. "He's here. Steve, he's here—he's waiting outside."

"Well, for God's sake, Lisa, why didn't you invite him in?" Tammy chimed in.

Lisa shot her a glare. "He said he'd wait outside for her! Probably heard your cackling and got too scared to come in."

Holly soothed your friend's sting with a half-hug around Tammy's shoulders, but you were still numb. You carefully scooped Lady up and placed her on the floor, away from the wrapping paper. You pushed to your feet, smoothing down the skirt of your dress. You put your book on the sofa, and turned to your friends still on the floor.

"Do I...do I look alright?"

"Gorgeous, babe," Holly beamed. "Let me just..."

She stood, reaching up to fix your hair. She fluffed it, poofed it, found your purse on a hook near the door and spritzed your perfume at the crown of your head, and under your ears. She handed you your lipgloss and a mirror, and when you were content with the pink-eyed doeness of your appearance, you stepped toward the stairs.

"Go, go!" Lisa ushered you, giving you a nudge.

You steadied yourself on the wall, steps careful and cautious. Those drinks made you a little woozy, but nothing felt as fuzzy as the thought of Steve waiting for you in the snow. He came all the way here, for you. Your cheeks warmed at the very thought. Your stomach crawled its way up to your throat.

You made your way through the house, taking one last glance in the nearest mirror, before pulling open the door.

A cold rush immediately burst into the house, but any thought of shivering fled your mind at the sight of Steve looming before your eyes. Brown leather coat, black sweater, Levi jeans tight at the hips and loose at the calves. He had his hands cupped around his mouth, blowing hot, white air into his palms—but at the sound of your steps, at the scent of you, he stopped.

All you could do, for just a moment, was stare. Three long weeks since you last saw him—those perfect, round hazel eyes, those high, rosy cheeks. The tip of his nose was wind-nipped pink, the tops of his ears blown red. He smelled like vetiver and leather cologne, and he looked beautiful.

"Oh, Steve."

You crashed into his chest, arms wound tight around his stomach. He enveloped you in his own, holding you as close as he could; and the warmth of him immediately melded with yours. You buried your nose into his chest and hummed, eyes pinched shut just to hold onto this. This moment, this scene, this feeling of him so close after so long apart. You didn't want to let go.

"Merry Christmas, angel," he whispered, and then his mouth sat atop your head, pressing it into a kiss.

When the cold got unbearable, you pulled Steve inside. Fingers intertwined and cheeks sore with grinning, you skipped your way back down to the den where your friends feigned innocence despite their heaving breaths.

"Well look who's here," Holly cooed, watching you tug Steve down the steps.

You giggled, tipping into his side, one foot coming to kick up giddily. You felt like a schoolgirl with her very first crush. That's how love should always be, right?

"Steve, you know everyone. This is Lisa, Holly, and Tammy. Girls, this is Steve."

Your friends waggled their fingers in bashful little waves, and Steve lifted a wide palm in hello. You could smell the Marlboros on his coat, see the outline of a new pack in the front of his pocket. His hands were starting to warm up against your own.

"And this is Lady," you cooed, watching the cocker spaniel sniff at Steve's boots.

You dipped down and scooped her up, bringing her up against your chest to wave a tiny paw at Steve. He cracked a sideways smile, reaching out to scratch at her chin. You let her scamper back over toward the girls by the tree, and turned to Steve with your fingers looped together behind your back.

You could barely contain the giddy glee flooding through your body. Steve noticed. He nicked you under the chin with a gentle knuckle, and another small kiss placed on your sticky mouth.

"You girls been drinkin'?" he gruffed, thumb pressing on your bottom lip.

You shrugged. "A little. It's Christmas, Steve."

He hummed, eyeing the dazzled, feminine setup of the room. A mess of pretty paper, tinsel knocked astray, empty coupe glasses and picked-at pigs-in-a-blanket and bowls of snacks, a dog sniffing around for scraps and attention—harmless, he decided. Maybe even sweet.

As if waiting for his approval, and recognizing the submission, Steve turned back to you with a small smile. "Okay."

You took him by the hand again, tugging him toward the tree. "Come on."

But Steve paused, tugging you with just the resistance of his solid stance, snapping back like a rubber-band.

"Wait, honey..." You turned to him, and he reached into the lining of his coat. "Got somethin' for you."

He pulled out a slim, black velvet box. You pressed your lips into a smile and huddled close.

"But, Steve...yours is at home—"

"—shh. Just open it."

You were acutely aware of your friends craning to see over your shoulder from their place on the floor, petting mindlessly at Lady and munching at shortbread. But in this moment, it was just you and Steve. And he watched you intently once he handed over the box, gnawing at his own lip. God, he wanted a smoke. He just wanted you to love it.

You pushed the box open, hinges snapping back to reveal a navy blue satin lining, and a gorgeous golden locket strung inside. An "S" sat etched on the center of an intricately engraved heart, adorned with swirling roses on a delicate chain.

"Oh, Steve." It was all you seemed to be able to say today.

"D' you like it?" he asked, voice edged with worry.

You fingered at the locket, feeling the cool metal. "I love it, Steve. It's gorgeous."

He exhaled. "Good. Lemme put it on."

With fingers too big for such delicate things, he plucked the necklace from its box and pulled the clasp open. You spun around, moving your hair out of the way for his hands. With your back to him, you could properly convey your excitement to your friends, who mirrored your beaming grin with equal delight.

The locket rested perfectly in the center of your chest, and once clasped, you felt it against your skin with your palm.

"Thank you, Steve. I love it so much."

Steve, hands braced on your shoulders, tipped his head and kissed your cheek. "Anything, angel. It's all yours."

Lisa snapped the head of a gingerbread-man cookie off with her teeth, and Holly cooed. Tammy busied herself with the dog.

But you had a band of butterflies in your stomach and a drum line in your chest, and you turned to look up at Steve with nothing but adoration.

"Look inside." He nudged his nose toward the locket again.

Wedging a nail between the hinges, you popped the heart open. A crudely-cut picture of yourself and Steve—so minuscule it would be difficult to discern from a blob if you hadn't recognized the very moment captured in time—sat in a black and white fashion in the heart.

Another smile at Steve, loving and sweet. "Who knew you were so romantic, Steve Harrington?"

He tucked his bruised fists into his coat pockets and shrugged. "I try."

Steve had hours before he had to leave and a plane ticket burning a hole in his back pocket—but it was Christmas, and he'd do anything, even blow off his coach and a team full of people, if it meant seeing your pretty face.

"Merry Christmas, angel."

The softest of kisses shared between warm mouths. Strawberry-cigarette smooches were what life was all about.

"Merry Christmas, Steve."

#rolly!#boxer!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington au #steve the hair harrington #stranger things fic #stranger things au #steve stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #boxer!steve

382 notes · View notes

sebscore · 1 year

Note

hi ! I love your gen z driver series so much !!

i have a request that she and zhou show up to the padock in the same outfit unplanned

like i feel this would happen - they both fancy showing up in something so different and the other would be wearing the same thing !! <3 fashion icons think the same 😌

THE HELMET BET

pairings: zhou guanyu x driver!reader / f1 grid x driver!reader

warnings: swearing. based on the 2022 grid. mention of sexism and racism. joke about doing an orgy.

author's note: idk if this is what you had in mind, but I had already written a small part of this fic and then your ask came in and I couldn't help myself. I love zhou so much, ugh thats my man fr. also, thank you for loving the series, it means a lot to me 💞

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''We're gonna get in trouble.'' Zhou said, shaking his head.

Y/N frowned at his words. ''Why would we get in trouble? It's always super boring and our bet can at least spice it up a little.'' She reasoned, using a lot of hand gestures to show how serious she was.

''You know those meetings are about our safety, right? We should take them serious.'' The Chinese driver didn't want to get in hot water with the stewards.

''But this is a serious matter! We're putting an end to the debate,'' she retorted back, not seeing the harm in using the upcoming driver's briefing for their bet, ''lately, I've been seeing way too many people saying you've got better style than me and I've had enough of it.''

The female driver had seen the countless online discussions between fans regarding the most stylish driver on the grid, the winner usually switching between herself, Lewis and Zhou. In her opinion, Lewis had the best style, she didn't need to think twice about it. But it is important for her to know who his successor is, who is the number 2?

To answer that question, she had come up with a brilliant idea: her and Zhou wear their best outfit to the next driver's briefing, not some team merchandising, and they get the other drivers to vote on which outfit is the best and therefore, which person has the best style. The person with the most votes gets to design a helmet for the loser and they have to wear it at the next racing weekend.

''Okay, I'm in,'' Zhou admitted, shaking hands to commemorate the challenge, ''be prepared to lose, Y/N.''

''Don't worry about me, Guanyu.''

Y/N was confident in her win. The young woman knows she has style, her several brand deals with high-respected fashion houses being the proof of that. However, she knew not to underestimate her rookie friend, Zhou has had some killer outfits in the ongoing season.

They had known each other for some years, but it was only this year that the pair had gotten close. Y/N broke the ice by complimenting one of his outfits at the start of the season and the rest was history.

The outfit she had gone with was simple, but she looked good and she felt great in it. It was inspired by one of Michael Schumacher's paddock outfits (reference), knowing she would at least have Mick and Seb's vote with that one.

Y/N got out of her car, ready to make her way to the F1 paddock and straight to the driver's briefing. In the corner of her eye she noticed Zhou's car pull up, his performance coach waving at her through the window. She reciprocated the action and decided to wait for him, thinking it would be nice for the two of them to enter together. She was curious as to what her friend would be wearing, secretly hoping he had fumbled the bag really hard.

Her hopes came crashing down as Zhou got out of the car, observing the clothes he was wearing and noticing one clear detail.

They were wearing the same outfit.

Her eyes seemed ready to bulge out of her head, in complete disbelief. ''Are you fucking kidding me, Zhou?''

The Chinese man appeared to be much more amused by the situation, covering his laughter with his hand. ''You look very nice, Y/N.'' He giggled, greeting her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

''It's turned into a ''who wears it better'' challenge, what the heck.'' She commented, eyeing him up and down before glancing at her own fit.

Zhou chuckled. ''Well either way, I'm winning.'' A small smirk appeared on his face, still sure of his win over his friend. Y/N simply scoffed, grabbing her pass from her purse and walking to the entrance. Zhou and his coach followed her steps, still entertained by her annoyance.

As soon as the paddock reporters noticed the sight of the two drivers, their cameras were whipped out from their bags and they began taking candid shots of the pair. Zhou and Y/N played along for the cameras, pointing at each other's outfits and pretending to look annoyed.

Eventually they made it to the right room, already seeing most of the drivers waiting inside. Zhou went in and greeted the others, while Y/N waited outside, ready to lock the door as soon as everyone had arrived and was inside.

Lando had been the last one to walk down the hallway. ''Hurry up, Norris!'' She exclaimed, her hand motioning for him to pick up the pace.

''Why? I'm on time.'' He replied a bit agitated, it was a bit too early in the morning for him to be scolded by his friend.

Y/N didn't respond to him, simply pushing him into the room and locking the door, making several drivers look up from where they were sitting or standing.

''Y/N, what are you doing?'' Sebastian spoke up, curious as to what she was up to this time.

The young woman urged Zhou to get up from his seat and to stand next to her. The man felt a bit embarrassed, but followed her orders. Y/N stood in the place where their director normally sat when he answered the drivers' questions or listened to their concerns. She placed both her hands on the desk, looking like a teacher that was about to scold her students.

''As we all know, Mr. Hamilton over there is widely accepted as the driver with the best style,'' she pointed at Lewis, who nervously smiled as the other drivers glanced at him, ''but that's not why we are gathered here today! We are gathered here today to decide who his successor is. Who is the most stylish person after Lewis? That's a question that we will settle once and for all, here, now, in this room.'' She finished her monologue.

''Me and Mr. Guanyu found ourselves in a battle for the title of second most stylish driver of the grid, so I challenged him. We would wear our best outfits today and have our lovely colleagues vote for who had the best one. But as you all can see, me and Mr. Dior over here, are wearing the same exact fit.'' Y/N waved her hand between herself and Zhou.

''So, instead of you deciding who is wearing the best outfit, you'll be voting for the person you think is wearing the outfit best.'' She concluded.

The crowd had mixed reactions: some looked confused, some seemed entertained by what Y/N had told them and others appeared to not care.

Kevin was the first one to speak, getting up from his seat and walking towards the door. ''Y/N, this is not the time to do this, we're here to talk about the race.'' He was about to turn the lock when her voice stopped him.

''Magnussen, you're being a party pooper- do you want to be a party pooper?'' She looked at him sternly, trying to convince him to sit back down and go along with her antics. ''Don't pretend like you're not secretly enjoying this.'' The Haas driver rolled his eyes, but defeatedly put his arms up and went back to his seat.

''Alright, we'll go around the room and each person says either my name or Zhou's.'' She explained further, moving in front of the desk.

Checo's hand went up in the air. ''Can we also pass?'' He asked, looking at Y/N.

''If you refuse to choose, we will consider it sexist and racist as I am a woman and Zhou's Asian.'' She answered him, garnering chuckles around the room and a nervous-looking Zhou who hoped people took it as a joke, since he didn't want to be making enemies as a rookie.

Y/N clapped her hands together. ''Okay, we'll start with our party pooper, KMag! Me or Zhou?''

''Zhou, since he didn't yell at me and didn't call me a party pooper.'' He chose, making the female driver narrow her eyes at him. ''Alright, 1 for Zhou.''

The person sat next to Kevin was his teammate, Mick. ''Schumacher!'' He was about to speak, but the woman interrupted him. ''Before you choose, I took inspiration from one of your dad's outfits.'' Y/N tried influencing his decision.

''I was gonna choose you anyway.'' He told her, making her jump up as her and Zhou had an equal score. ''Thank you, Mickie.'' She smiled brightly at him.

''Valtteri?''

''I choose Zhou, I'm loyal to my teammate.'' He answered, smiling at the man in question.

''Lando?''

''Zhou, because he doesn't humiliate me in front of the entire internet.'' The McLaren driver said, referring to their regular back-and-forths on social media.

Y/N rolled her eyes. ''You're such a crybaby, Rumplestiltskin.'' Her words caused Lando to give her the middle finger, but it was all in good fun.

''Anyway, Daniel?''

The Australian pretended to think hard about his answer, looking in-between her and Zhou. ''I'm gonna go with Y/N, cause I'm kinda scared what she'll do to me if I don't choose her.'' His answer got a laugh out of the other drivers, some of them nodding their heads.

Y/N herself couldn't help but break a smile at Daniel's words, happy her friend had chosen her. ''Okay, next one.''

The voting was nearing its end and there was a tie, 9 people had chosen Zhou and 9 others had voted for Y/N. It all came down to one person.

Sir Lewis Hamilton.

Despite some of the drivers' dislike for the bet at the beginning of the meeting, everyone had gotten pretty invested. ''The maestro himself has to choose his next prodigy.'' Daniel joked, looking at the 7x world champion.

Lewis shifted in his seat, not too fond of having the last vote on the matter. ''Can't I just say both of you? The two of you look very good.''

''No, mate! You have to choose.'' George argued, the others agreeing with him.

Y/N was quite sure that Lewis would choose her. She was much closer to him than Zhou and the pair had talked about fashion before, discussing how it was a great way to express yourself. She was already designing Zhou's helmet in her mind.

''Well, then… I guess Zhou.''

Her mouth dropped open, shocked that the senior driver had chosen the rookie over her. She wasn't the only one that seemed surprised by his choice, Seb turned around in his seat and Pierre's eyes had widened, mouthing ''wow''.

The young man next to her, lightly slapped her arm. ''I'll send the design to your team next week, Y/N.'' He teasingly laughed, a big smirk present on his face.

''This is a joke, right? I can't be number 3!'' She dramatically stated.

''Hey! What's wrong with being the number 3?'' Daniel looked up, feigning being offended by her words.

She was about to give another monologue about betrayal and how men are all the same, but several loud knocks on the door interrupted that from happening. Y/N sighed, but took a few steps to turn the lock.

Their director didn't look too happy. ''Why was the door locked?''

''We were having an orgy.'' She sarcastically answered him, not planning on explaining to him why she had blocked the door from opening.

''Y/N!''

The actual driver's briefing began and soon enough most drivers were already dozing off, some of them even wishing Y/N and Zhou's bet had taken a bit longer. They wouldn't admit it to the young woman, but ever since she'd made her arrival to these briefings, her unserious antics had made them much more bearable. Some drivers had even started looking forward to the meetings, because the girl always had something up her sleeve.

As soon as the last issue was resolved, the meeting ended and everyone was out the door. When Zhou saw Y/N talking with Mick and Esteban, he swiftly moved next to Lewis. ''Hey, man,'' he patted the Brit's shoulder, ''thanks for that, I really appreciate it.''

''No problem,'' Lewis smiled, ''we made a deal, I'm keeping my word.''

Zhou nodded. ''Yeah, you vote for me and I let you help me design her helmet.'' He recalled the promise they had made a day earlier.

''Great! I was thinking we just collect all kinds of embarrassing pictures of her and plaster them all around her helmet…''

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 x oc #f1 female driver #female f1 driver #zhou guanyu x reader #zhou guanyu x oc #f1 grid x oc #f1 grid x reader

2K notes · View notes

schrodinger-swriter · 3 months

Note

Can I request prompts 8, 10, and 11 with Lucifer please!

Prompts 8, 10, and 11 with Lucifer

Greetings, I return once more! I have a little free time to kill, about half an hour to be exact! Figured I may as well knock out some more writing!

I hope you enjoy, Anon! C:

MUTUAL PINING:

When Lucifer is crushing on someone, he feels a little... conflicted. He's still so hurt over Lilith leaving him, and we don't know if he ever got closure behind the scenes. Even if he did, it still deeply effects him. He feels a little guilty for moving on, even if he knows it's absurd to feel that way. He's also not all that eager to potentially go through the same thing.. oh, but you make him feel so happy. He finds himself carving you instead of his ducks.

On the opposite side, there is you. Lucifer seems to be so buried in his own thoughts that he may not notice your feelings. Or your attempts. He's had people try to come on him before, but for once he can't see your advances. Leave him notes, that will make his heart flutter. Check in on him, too. It's going to take time, but eventually you will both slip into a routine... you might even get together before either of you realize you've slipped into that territory.

SHARING CLOTHES:

He lets you borrow his coats sometimes. A lot of the time actually. In fact after a while you don't have to ask! You're cold? He's already shrugging off the one on his back so you can bundle up. Want to borrow one to complete and outfit? His entire wardrobe is open to you! Miss him and want to hold something to stave off the loneliness? Why have some piece of fabric when you can have the real thing! Sure, it might not be massive on you, but he still thinks you look good! He's going to make sure you know his thoughts, too!

DOMESTIC:

A house husband. He's been living on his own for so long, though that's assuming he hasn't hired anyone to keep the house in check for him in the midst of his depression... However, having you around pushes him to want a private life with you. You divide chores within the house evenly, though Lucifer is more than willing to take on more if you need a day to hold back a little. He wears aprons when he cooks, he has a collection of some. Eventually he gets some matching ones for the two of you. Surprises you with breakfast in bed at least once or twice a month. Not one day goes by where he doesn't lean into you for a kiss, something small to reassure you of his love.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer imagine #lucifer x you

273 notes · View notes

fantimati · 4 months

Text

"Venti sus"- list of things that makes Venti (and Mondstadt) incredibly weird and suspicious

Venti is talking to Aether in the Webtoon. This takes place before the game since Aether's elemental signifier thingys are black. But it's also much later then Vanessa's time since he is wearing the outfit he has in game. We do not know if this is the abyss sibling or the traveler.

Aether asks if entering Celestia makes you a god. Venti completely dodges the question.

Venti then proceeds to list several irl gods and genesis myths as "in distant worlds". This gives him a meta aspect similar to alice

Speaking of Alice, he knows her well enough that he helped set up a summer vacation for her daughter and her friends. Twice.

He is also on good terms with the hexenzirkel. A group that includes Gold Rhinedottir, the woman that had made at least 2 nation destroying abyssal dragons and rift wolves.

When he's waking up he has the same effects as Vennessa turning into a falcon. He is even briefly seen as a bird .

This sigil seen here is also seen in liyue (I cannot for the life of me find a picture but yeah), in stormterror's lair and his hold skill

He only wakes up when something bad is happening ie: the cataclysm, Lawrence clan's rule, dvailn. So... why is he still awake

HIS HELLO VOICE LINE???

"*Yawn* That was a refreshing sleep. Ah, Traveler, we meet again! What? You don't remember me? Ahaha, well, allow me to join you on your quest once again. I must see to it that the bards of the world tell the Traveler's tales!"

That's not what he said in the archon quest???? When does this take place??? Why would Venti expect them to remember him and why don't they???

He straight up god infected by the Abyss. He's fine. I don't think it's ever mentioned again.

Why is his statue the one being hung like that

Venti is mentioned in a letter in the Chasam. IN LATIN

Currently the only god who has wings other then the statue of the omnipresent god and Phanes

Was friends with the tsarista before the cataclysm. The had a falling out afterwards

Used to be worshiped alongside Istaroth

Mondstadt has TWO descendents of Khaenri'ah, Albedo and Keaya.

The base of the statue in Mondstadt reads, "Gateway to Celestia"

The hands of Barbatos' statue points directly to the spiral abyss portal

#genshin impact #venti

229 notes · View notes

sunshine-and-moonshine · 10 months

Text

Baby Matching Outfits

Requested: Yes [Since request are open.........I HAVE ONE.... CAN YOU PLEASE WRITE 141, KÖNIG, ALE, KEEGAN. WERE THEY MATCH THERE OUTFIT WITH THEY'RE KIDS, BUT YOU DON'T KNOW ABOUT IT AND THEY COME TO YOU AND SHOW (YOU KEEP THEM ASKING WHERE IS YOURS)🤭💞 PLEASE CAN YOU WRITE 🥹🫶]

Warnings: Sweet enough to rot your teeth

A/N: Trimmed off Price to make this six characters (the limit).

Gaz

Gaz grinned proudly at you as he held your daughter in his arms, the little one grabbing at the controller design on his t-shirt, probably recognizing it as the same thing that she’d see her Daddy holding when she was snuggled up next to him or in his lap as he played. A favorite activity of his, he liked to pretend that she was playing with him.

“I think this is the best purchase I’ve ever made before.” He tells you, bouncing Sunshine in his arms when she started to get a bit fussy. “I think she likes it! It’s a sign that she’ll like playing video games just as much as me.”

Ghost

Ghost does it unintentionally. It’s likely something that you bought because why wouldn’t you? It’s cute, references him, and it was just overall wholesome. But Ghost never really wears the shirt, and even more rarely puts the onesie on Asa. He just doesn’t understand the point. But he’s in a rush one morning to surprise you at work so he throws on the first shirt he sees and dresses your daughter in the onesie at the top of the pile.

Which leads to him holding Asa, surrounded by a group of your coworkers cooing about how cute it is that he’s matching his daughter. It’s very uncomfortable for him to say the least and he’s forever grateful when you finally meet him in the middle, shyly fiddling with Asa’s little hands.

Soap

It was a spur of the moment decision for Soap. He’d already been on his way to meet you, Bombi in his arms, when he saw the matching set in the window of a store. Ever the impulse shopper, Soap hadn’t even thought twice about whipping out his wallet and changing out his shirt and Bombi’s onesie in the bathroom before continuing on his way.

And of course he basked in the attention he got from you, even if 99% of it went to Bombi instead of him. He was proud that you liked it! “Maybe next time all of us can match, yeah?” He says, already coming up with a million and one ideas on how to do just that.

Alejandro

The matching outfits were given to him by his Mama, a late Father’s Day gift! She didn’t read English very well so she really only saw the cowboy hats and went “Perfect!!!!!” And Alejandro couldn’t help but agree. Which would be why he changed them both into the matching outfits right away and swiftly started making his way to your work, a grin on his face at every compliment he received along the way.

And then he was standing in front of you, practically glowing with pride as you cooed over him and your daughter, tickling her chubby tummy before giving him a kiss on the cheek. He definitely wouldn’t mind matching with your little one again.

Keegan

Keegan is really not one for dressing up. Barely owns a decent pair of jeans and a single shirt or two without holes all over. To say he doesn’t really care about his appearance when he’s not deployed is an understatement. Life Ghost, he probably matched with Skully unintentionally. Threw on the first shirt he saw and went with it.

So he was definitely confused when you kept giggling to yourself, looking between him and Skully, tickling the boy’s tummy as you complimented Keegan on his fashion sense. That was when he finally noticed and couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching over to hold one of Skully’s little hands in his. Maybe he could dress up a little better, as long as he matched the little one.

König

König loves to match with Princess! He has several matching shirts and onesies for him and her and he likes to wear them whenever possible. Today is one such day, your tiny baby in his arms, whining all the way to the park where he would be meeting you for lunch.

And oh he just melted when you cooked over them both, praising him for finding such cute clothes as you gently readjust the crocheted cap on Princess’ head, amused by the floppy green ears that were attached.

453 notes · View notes

6lostgirl6 · 1 year

Note

could u do something for the lost boys with a cute and innocent gf? maybe like cat valentine or sumthin

Ingénue

Pairing: Poly!Lost Boys x Innocent!Reader

TW: small mention of sexual innuendos, hints of possessive behavior.

You are the exact opposite of the group of vampires and they found the striking difference to be extremely attractive.

While they were clad in haunting dark colors and leather, you sported outfits that were decorated in floral patterns and pastel colors.

They were very surprised that you weren't apprehensive of them when you all met the first time.

You simply smiled sweetly with doe-like eyes and engaging in conversation with them without a care.

They knew that they had to keep you for themselves. That selfish need that consumed them prevented them from letting you go until you were offically theirs.

Your relationship with them turn heads when you all visit the boardwalk.

The image of a sweet girl spending time with a bunch of trouble-makers left many people thinking that the world was ending.

You are practically their bright and shining star that has blessed them with your love and sweetness.

Whenever a surfer nazi bothers you, they immediately are on the defensive.

Marko has no trouble starting a fight with them to get them to leave you alone.

You're theirs.

They love the sound of your voice, high-tuned that reminded them of bells.

You don't understand sexual innuendos and jokes and Dwayne slaps Paul when he tries to explain it.

David pretends he doesn't like your style and wants you to dress darker but it's only because he can't handle how delectable you look.

Dwayne has a silent yet expressive fascination with your outfits.

Whenever he would see you wearing ruffles and lace, he would quietly and gently grab the fabric and play with it with his fingers.

Paul loves the sound of your laugh and will constantly make jokes to hear it.

He also loves your expressive gestures because he does the same thing and the boys used to tease him about it.

Whenever Paul sees you dressed in bright colors, he playfully hisses and shields his eyes, yelling, "Too bright!"

Marko appreciates fashion, given that his jacket is handmade, he likes learning about your style.

Marko, the artist, has hundreds of sketches of you in your different outfits.

Every night is a new outfit, he never sees you wear the same one twice and teases if you have those specially delivered or something.

"No I made them! (^w^) ♡" You would say.

You created matching bead bracelets consisting of pastels and you all wear them. Despite, David complaining.

"Ew, what is this?" "A bracelet, I can take it back..." "No, it's mine, fuck off."

When you discover their secret, you were understanding, but had so many questions.

"Does garlic hurt? Does the sun kill you? Can you turn into a bat? Bats are so cute!!"

Your bond with them would be even tighter with them.

At times, your innocence triggers their vampiric instincts which they try desperately to control.

You're their mate, yet their instincts scream at them to pin you down and consume you in a primal urge to claim.

Best to stay away from them when they're starving or going through heat.

Spam Liking = Blocked

Taglist: Comment to be added!!

@prettywhenibleed @ghoulgeousimmaculate @pixielostboy @britany1997 @brattyloserprincess16 @blenna3967

914 notes · View notes

silver-itallics · 4 months

Text

My Favorite Inside Source

Leon Kennedy x reader

Part 2!

Warnings: Non-con, drugging, kidnapping, kind of cnc, Leon being a weird old man and feeling bad about it

Title is from Rape Me by Nirvana

This is inspired by Waste Me from @gilfhub !! super cool awesome person I love their brain

This was a stupid idea.

Most of your ideas have been stupid recently.

But you feel stupid, so your antics fit.

You don't have enough self respect to care anyway.

There's a red solo cup in your hand, inside it a mix of alcohols that will probably give you liver damage in your thirties. Raising it to your lips, the drink isn't half bad.

Or maybe you're just too drunk to tell.

The alcohol burns your throat, making you feel a strange mix of nauseous and euphoric. Around you, everyone else seems to be in the same condition.

People grind against their partners in a sorry excuse for dancing, stumbling as much as you are.

It's perfect.

For the past few weeks, you've been doing this. Getting drunk or high out of your mind, sometimes both, in hopes of someone looking your way. You've exhausted your skimpiest of outfits, and worn enough makeup to provide for a beauty pageant.

You leave your cups unattended, and drink any suspicious substance you can get your hands on. You flirt without paying attention to any red flags, letting your neckline hang low enough to practically show nipples.

It's like you're begging to get scooped up and thrown in the back of a trunk.

Actually, what you want is worse than that.

All of your antics are an attempt to get bent over in a stranger's bedroom or a dirty bedroom while you scream "please, no!"

In your mind, no one will lay their hands on you unless you're one step away from unconsciousness.

Pretty girls get taken home. Pretty girls get paid attention to.

You, however, are begging to get raped.

Quite literally.

The last guy that came close enough to shoving his hands down your pants got scared away. You begged him to rape you; you were drunk enough for it to be considered the sort.

He pushed you off, calling you a freak and all sorts of names without even touching you.

Ever since then, your efforts have doubled.

You put your body on display, despite how unattractive you find it. Even in a skirt so short you can see your panties and a shirt so low cut your bra is showing, you barely get any attention.

Maybe it's your soft jawline, or hip dips. The lack of attention could be chalked up to your round tummy or the pimple below your lip. Or it could be your frizzy hair, or the fact that you only talk about three things.

You could make a list out of things you hate about yourself.

Instead, you're fishing for attention, using your tits and ass as bait on a hook.

Still, you keep coming up empty handed.

As you lean over the bar, purposely looking away from your drink, you can feel eyes on you. You push the thought away, your insecurities not believing that anyone would look at you that way. But actually, quite a lot of people look. Only because your pussy is practically hanging out of your skirt, but you catch their eyes anyway.

This time, though, you don't feel just a fleeting glance. You can feel staring.

Turning, you find the culprit. A man twice your age with shaggy dark blond hair watches you like a hawk. You're surprised, considering he's quite attractive. The guy is well built, with muscles and a sharp jawline with a bit of stubble. Pretty. You'll bite.

You give him a smile, playing up how drunk you are. However, it's not hard, considering you'd probably break a breathalyzer with how much alcohol is in your system. The fact that you haven't thrown up yet is a miracle.

Instead of walking over to him, you shift your focus to the bar once more, playing hard to get. Guys like that. At least you think they do. You've never really caught enough guys' attention to say for sure.

Shifting your hips, you arch your back to give him a good view of your panties. The skirt you're wearing is already quite short, but the angle makes the fabric slip up your behind even more. At least there's enough fat in your body to give you some semblance of an ass.

That seems to do the trick, as in a few minutes, you feel a warm hand on your lower back. Now that you've got his attention, time to reel him in.

"Hey handsome," you slur, stumbling a little. That gives you the opportunity to press your cup against his chest in hopes he takes the chance to roofie your drink.

The guy catches you, his hand slipping to your waist. You have to stop yourself from melting into his embrace and begging for it already. He smells like whiskey and gunpowder, and you can feel his strength in just the simple touch.

"Hey yourself."

You talk with him for a few minutes, making sure to compliment him as much as possible and insult yourself at every given chance. Playing the pathetic role isn't difficult, as you aren't really pretending.

Eventually, you learn the man's name is Leon, and as you guessed, he's quite a bit older than you. Almost twice your age. Which is even better in your twisted mind.

"Gonna go pee." You shove your cup into his hand, walking to the bathroom at the back of the bar. There's a long line, which gives Leon enough time to decide what to do with your drink.

At first, he protects it. His hand is wrapped around the opening, and he keeps an eye out for anyone that might have looked your way earlier.

But really, he should be protecting you from himself.

Leon didn't come here with the intention of taking anyone home. Especially unconscious.

But you played into his hands so perfectly, practically putting yourself on a silver platter for him. You probably wouldn't even notice if he slipped something in your drink.

Guilt twists in his stomach.

Girls were always hard for Leon. They liked his looks, but never stuck around long enough to appreciate his personality. At least that's what he told himself.

Except for you.

You liked both his looks and personality, easily charming jokes out of him. And you even laughed.

Some of them you genuinely found funny.

Plus, your self esteem was so low, you'd probably give him what he wanted if he asked politely. Still, there was the chance you'd fight, and he couldn't have that.

The thought made Leon feel sick.

What the hell was he doing?

As quickly as the nausea came, it subsided. The feeling was replaced with the memory that Leon hadn't had pussy in years. He knew you had a nice warm cunt that you'd turn over in minutes.

But you'd be tighter if he took it from you.

That was what helped him decide.

He was only a man, one with needs. You were a fragile, insecure girl.

This would be a cakewalk.

Leon slipped his hand into his back pocket, pulling out a few melatonin tablets. He kept them on him because he couldn't sleep most nights.

He probably wouldn't be sleeping after the guilt of what he was about to do, but the need to feel your plush walls was stronger than any morals Leon had.

Normally, he'd be better than this. But after his entire team got killed in front of him because of a stupid mistake he made, Leon hadn't been the same.

He dumped the pills into your drink.

They drop down to the bottom, fizzing as they start to dissolve. Hopefully the little tablets disappear fast enough for you not to notice. That way, the only evidence would be the effects you'd feel later. Hopefully he'd be able to keep you entertained long enough to scoop you up.

Just in time, you appear behind Leon, dragging your fingers up his arm.

"Sorry, line was long. Miss me?" You tease.

"Lots," Leon chuckles. He gives your drink a subtle shake before handing it back to you. Without even checking the contents, you take it.

"Protected it with my life."

You smile at Leon's stupid joke, taking a big swim of your drink. You really hope he put something in it.

"Well, thank you for your service."

Swishing your drink, you make sure not to look down at the liquid. Leon is glad you don't, as the pills at the bottom are still dissolving. God, he's even bad at drugging stupid sluts at bars.

The only thing he feels he's good at is guns.

They're easy, people aren't. When his gun jams, he knows exactly what to do. But Leon's mouth goes dry when you look at him with those doe eyes of yours.

The two of you talk a little longer, and you make sure to down your drink quickly. Once you get down to the bottom, your face twists a little at the unfamiliar taste. Leon notices, and panics a little. But he needs to be calm. Pretend like nothing's wrong.

So he claps a harsh hand on your shoulder, shaking your body with the motion. He almost forgets what he's doing as he watches your skin jiggle a little.

"It's okay, kid. I didn't like alcohol at first, either."

He manages a smile, but Leon knows he's an idiot. Calling the girl he's about to take home and fuck senseless a "kid" is not the right move. Even if fucking isn't the right word for what he's about to do to you.

Thirty minutes. Leon needs to occupy for thirty minutes, so that the melatonin kicks in. Surprisingly, the task isn't as hard as he thought. Even if you're a little annoying, you entertain yourself well, talking as if he cares. You're like a puppy chasing its own tail. He almost feels bad for what he's about to do.

Almost.

Leon pulls you closer as you yawn, supporting your weight on his biceps. Jeez, you're heavier than he thought you'd be. That might be a problem.

"'m sleepy," you mutter, completely forgetting what you came here for. Well, either way you wanted someone to take you home, and that's exactly what you're gonna get.

You lurch forward, feeling dizzy and sick. Even in this dazed state, you realize: you've actually been drugged. Fear creeps up your belly, latching itself on each of your ribs. For so long, you've fantasized about this, and now that it's happening, you're getting cold feet.

There's a look of inebriated panic on your face, clear as day. Feeling sluggish like jelly, you reach up, pointing a wobbly finger at Leon's chest.

"Leon… you…" slurring, you can't even get the words out. The bartender looks curiously at the two of you, to which Leon puts on one of those charming smiles of his. The one that's gotten him so far, the one he's mastered from years of kissing up to the president.

His hand slides into place around your waist, pushing down your accusatory finger.

"Think she's had too much to drink," he chuckles, looking down at you. "Haven't you, baby?"

Baby.

The word is enough to make you compliant. Leon's voice repeats in your head, putting you to sleep like one of those audiobooks you listened to as a kid.

Sleepily, you nod, relenting your body to him. You're like a bunny chasing a carrot on a string. Except you'd follow that carrot even if it led you into an active volcano. Leon almost pities you. But he pities himself more.

He's rough when he shoves you into the car, and you drift off in seconds. You're out like a light, so he's gotta work fast to get you to his apartment. Leon could always rape you in his car, but he's classier than that. He's a private man, even if he's a dick.

When you're finally on his bed is when he realizes what he's doing. Sprawled out on his pillows, your hair drifts out like a halo. With your eyes closed and lips parted, you look sweet. Even if you're not a blonde bombshell on the cover of playboy magazine.

You're just some girl, an average one.

Some might even call you a victim.

Leon feels nauseous again. Normally he can hold his whiskey, but this is a different type of sick feeling. He's sick in the head, and he knows it. Like a parasite in his head, one he can see, but can't remove.

That same parasite is what makes him crawl between your legs as you're sleeping, pressing his face to your panties. Nice ones, too. He lifts up your skirt to get better access and a better look at the lacy fabric covering your slit. He takes a deep whiff before pushing himself back up.

Leon's gotta work fast, as you're just asleep, not paralyzed. Another amateur mistake. He might have to concuss you if you make too much noise. Surprisingly, he's okay with that. He's broken plenty of skulls, and yours would be just one more. Except you're not infected with any disease, except for a similar one that he has, and you're not a war criminal.

Looking you over, Leon notices what little clothing you're wearing. Claire would tell him it's not good to say that girls are "asking for it", but it kinda seems like you are. He's not sure whether that makes this whole situation better or worse.

Whatever.

The top of your obnoxiously colorful bra peeks out from your shirt, and Leon tugs it down. Your boobs are average, but the first real ones he's seen without paying for them. Even if he'll probably pay for this later. Just not in money.

He's old now, and can't get hard as easily as before. But that doesn't stop his dick from trying to. Man, he's stooped low.

In his twenties, he had girls throwing themselves at him, but never the ones he wanted. Before, his expectations were high. But now he's getting chubbed from the sight of some average tits.

You're an average joe in almost every way. Boobs aren't too big, and your ass isn't huge either. You're mostly fat, which is probably to blame for most of your ass anyways.

But if Leon is good at anything, it's dealing with what he's given.

So he lowers his mouth down to one of your tits, taking your nipple in his lips. He's not as good at it as he used to be, but the skin hardens anyways. Maybe you're good at settling, too. Just like he is.

You squirm a little each time he sucks on your nipples, eyebrows creasing. Leon takes them both in his hands, and each of your boobs fit nicely in his palms. Maybe this isn't so bad.

He jerks his hips forward, trying to get his dick hard. You make it a little easier for him to get it up, compared to the night he spends alone. At least he has some material tonight that's not on paper or a screen.

Your panties are starting to get wet, which is fine, even if he'd prefer you a bit drier. You'd be tighter that way.

He leaves most of your clothes on, figuring you'd be less violated than way. Leon's line of thinking doesn't always make the most sense, but he does it anyways. When he pulls away your underwear, he chuckles a little. You've got a pretty pussy for an average joe, but with a hack job of pubes.

At least you smell nice.

He slides your underwear off your legs, tossing them into a drawer in his nightstand. A keepsake. Trophy. Or maybe material if you ever get away. Probably evidence if you ever go to the police.

Maybe Leon's life will turn around if he gets arrested. Or the president will just break him out and he'll be back to fighting nightmares day and night.

He's trapped in this stupid job. But he's not trapped with you. With you, Leon finally has control. He can make you jerk by playing with your nipples and whine when he kisses your clit. But being nice is boring.

Normally he'd eat a girl out, for the sake of chivalry or whatever. But this is about him, not you. You don't have control here.

He pushes his jeans to his knees, just enough to get his dick out. At least it's hard now, from the sight and smell of your pussy. Probably your best feature.

When he presses the tip against your pretty folds, you gasp. The first sound you've made tonight. Leon doesn't find the noise to be unbearable, so he keeps going.

When he pushes in, he's the one that makes a noise. You're tight as hell, and just wet enough to slip in, but not too much to be sloppy. Christ, you squeeze him like you're trying to kill him.

This is when you wake up. If the state you're in can even be considered consciousness. You feel like you're dreaming, but you fight Leon off anyways. Or try to. The way you push at him is pretty cute honestly. Similarly to how a kitten plays with a piece of string.

"Leon! Stop… it hurts…"

Your smaller hands push at his clothed chest, and he easily catches both of them in one of his larger hands. Sure, you wanted to be raped, but now that you are, you're scared. The fear in your eyes is laughable.

"Thought you wanted this," he mumbles out, struggling to push into your tight walls. You bleed a little, which helps him slide in. Leon's used to blood on his hands, or really everywhere. But never his dick.

Now you're crying. You feel stupid, incredibly so. But Leon's only focusing on the bounce of your tits and stomach, the tight squeeze of your cunt.

"I did!" You hiccup. Your hands still push at his own, despite the fact he's got you pinned and straddled. "I- I don't know!"

Your sobs subside as you focus more on the feeling. The pain is still there, of course, you haven't had dick in years. But it feels good in the same way that popping pimples does or sticking safety pins in your fingers.

Even in sex, you're self destructive. You stop fighting, even starting to enjoy it a little. With the melatonin still in your system, you drift in and out of sleep, which probably helps your case. Leon's thrusts are a little too rough to take fully conscious.

"There we go," he says, speeding up. He's taken to a rhythm that feels good for him, and if you like it too, that's fine. He'll hate himself afterwards either way.

Leon grabs your chin, squishing your chubby cheeks between his fingers. He lets go of your hands, which fumble for his shirt, but not to push him off this time. You're pulling him in even closer. Wiping the tears off your cheeks, the older man smiles down at you. It's sadistic, but a smile nonetheless.

"Good sluts take what they're given, yeah?"

You whine, nodding dumbly. Your tongue feels numb in your mouth and your pussy feels sore. In a way that you probably shouldn't like. Leon's fucking you in a way that will probably cause you to book an appointment with a pelvic floor therapist.

He grunts, and your eyes go all starry. Leon ignores the stupid look you're giving him, splaying his hands on your fat thighs, spreading them further. He's close.

Maybe fifteen years ago, he'd be able to last longer or be kinder to you. But the squeeze of your cunt and soft, slick noises are driving him crazy. Crazier than he has to be to do something like this.

He's about to tell you of the predicament, figuring you'd be relieved. But you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling his hips flush with yours. The pain of his dick hitting your cervix makes you a little nauseous, but you're sick enough to like the sting. Your head is thrown back in a moan as he cums inside of you.

For a moment, Leon feels like he's actually fucking someone he cares about, not just some slut he drugged at a bar. There's a sense of normalcy as his brain goes fuzzy with the orgasm. Your tight pussy makes him cum so hard he sees stars. Something that hasn't happened in years.

But when he comes down, slumping on top of you and breathing heavily, he realizes what he's done. Leon rolls over to the other side of the bed, giving you more than enough space. You're falling back asleep already when the post nut clarity hits him like a truck.

He almost cries, even if he's not the one that is currently bleeding onto his sheets from being treated so roughly. There's even slight bruises on your jaw and hips from where he'd been grabbing you all night. Feels like the night he planned to kill himself all over again. That time he had Sherry to keep him alive, but now she's all grown up and better off without him.

You mumble something in your sleep, causing Leon to turn his head to look at you. He didn't even have the patience to undress you fully; your tits are haphazardly pulled out of your shirt, and your skirt is bunched up around your hips. He didn't even look close enough at your body, the way you deserve. The way he can't give you.

God, he's an asshole.

Or probably even worse than that.

Leon watches you sleep. You're not the prettiest, or the most confident, but now he's stuck with you. Trapped the way he is with his job. In a strange way, he feels connected to you. Not in a love way, but in the way that the bruises on your jaw are in the shape of his fingers. Not anyone else's.

Maybe he won't end it tonight. Maybe he'll stay alive another day. Since he roughed you up so badly, and you're still living. Even if you're leaking a mixture of cum and blood on his sheets. Stupid thing, did nobody teach you to pee after sex? But Leon's not going to wake you. He's probably not even going to get up, either. You'll have matching UTI's and be stuck even closer in this fucked up spiderweb he's created between the two of you.

Sometime past five in the morning is when Leon falls asleep. Surprisingly, he's been given a decent vacation after his last screw up. God knows how long that'll last.

When he wakes up, blinding light filtering in through his dusty apartment, the first thing he sees is you. You're laying on his chest, still barely dressed. Your arms are wrapped around his waist, and you're drooling a little on his shirt.

He's not even considerate enough to try not to wake you, shoving you to the side so he can go pee. You fall to the side, blinking slowly as you wake up.

"Where are you going?" You ask, voice scratchy from sleep and all the crying you did last night. Screaming, too.

Leon can't even look at you. He's still stuck in that state of realization. Because now he knows what he is. Before, he was the golden boy, the president's favorite. But now he's a rapist and overall a big splotch of a mistake.

"Gotta piss," he grumbles, already halfway in the bathroom. You watch him curiously, as if you want to come in. Leon immediately shuts the door, a bit too harshly.

He stays in the bathroom too long. Your blood and other fluids dried on his dick and pelvis, which he only cleans off because it's itchy. But also because he doesn't really want to be reminded of what he did. Leon wishes he could clean off last night like the dried blood on his skin.

But he knows he can't.

Once he's done, he stumbles into the kitchen, planning on downing a bottle of whiskey for breakfast. Or lunch. It's already past noon.

Leon's plan comes to a screeching halt as he smells food cooking. You're fully dressed again, albeit, without underwear.

All of the guilt he's been feeling all night can't compare to the absolute misery he feels watching you.

The girl he raped last night.

You're cooking breakfast for him, like a little housewife.

The fact that you're not crying even hurts more. You're humming softly, poking around some bacon in a pan with a spatula. Somehow, you found something to cook for him, though he's been living off of takeout and microwave meals for about a week now.

After a few minutes of staring is when you notice that Leon is there. You turn, confirming the fact that you're cooking for him.

"Hey," you're smiling at him, bright doe eyes and rosy cheeks. "I just wanted to say thanks for last night."

God. What the hell has he done?

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #dark content #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon smut #dead dove do not eat #leon kennedy x you #x reader

168 notes · View notes