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#(the muses are ready to party)
polyesterpeacock · 5 months
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// tag drop
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the-badger-mole · 1 year
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The entire world has turned into an absurdist comedy😂😂😂I was angry at first, but then when my guy jumped into the water, fully clothed and swam to that guy's defense, I lost it! I love my skinfolk.
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sourlove · 4 months
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YANDERE ROCKSTAR HEADCANONS 🎸
TW: UNHEALTHY REALTIONSHIP, MENTIONS OF SUBSTANCES AND SUBSTANCE ABUSE, YANDERE THEMES
AN: Sorry for the wait, my darlings. enjoy <333
READ PART 1 HERE
Yandere!Rockstar who likes the way you look at him, like he hung the sun and the moon stars in the sky.
Yandere!Rockstar who has no choice but to take you along with the band, Jailbird, on tour. After all, what's an artist without his muse?
Yandere!Rockstar who never shows you off. He just doesn't anyone to get the opportunity to steal you away after all. You don't mind though. You're more than happy to play the role of his 'assistant' is that means you get to be close to your favorite musician.
Yandere!Rockstar who spoils you in private, fucking you into the mattress and leaving bruises that decorate your skin for days. He adores you, his little starlight, and whispers his love for you in the dead of the night.
Yandere!Rockstar who takes you out when the band is in a new city to new, interesting places. The two of you giggle together as you disguise him so you won't get mobbed by fans. It's risky, but it brings you closer.
Yandere!Rockstar who loves when you tell him how much you love him, and his music, and his body, like you worship him. It drives him crazy, the way you follow him around like you need him.
Yandere!Rockstar who rewards you when 'Y/N', becomes his most popular song yet. The band throws a small party when the numbers come in, and that night Axel kisses you in front of everyone for the first time. Everyone is cheering and laughing but the only one you care about looks at you, only you and tells you that he loves you.
"You're all I need, starlight. My little good luck charm."
Yandere!Rockstar who starts to be a little more open about your relationship. Now, he talks about his inspiration for 'Y/N' and it's connection to his first song, 'Starlight'. He talks about how he needed a single push with with both songs, the second push being you. He doesn't give all the details but it makes you feel warm inside. Axel had finally acknowledged you.
Yandere!Rockstar who no longer makes you pretend to be his assistant to avoid any questions. Now, he dresses you in designer clothes and everyone who knows you, knows you as Axel's girl, the Y/N.
Yandere!Rockstar who becomes even more famous all of a sudden, his music reaching corners of the world you would have never thought of. He can't take you everywhere anymore. It's too inconvenient, he says, to drag you all over the world. Just be a good girl and wait for him in the luxurious penthouse he bought you, okay?
Yandere!Rockstar who slowly starts getting more annoyed the more you ask him to come home. He's busier than he ever was before and has to get a new album ready while still on tour. You obviously don't know how difficult it is for him, since all you do is mope around all day and wait for him.
Yandere!Rockstar who buys a different house for himself when his tour eventually ends. It's just so the grand parties he throws don't bother your peace. But he spent so much time there it felt like he only came to your place when he wanted to change clothes and take a quick nap.
Yandere!Rockstar who buys you more clothes, more accessories and designer trash when you complain. How could you possibly want any more than this? The world is at your feet, you can have anything and everything you want. Everything, except him.
Yandere!Rockstar who didn't bat an eye when you left, too lost in the high of drugs and fame to care about his old girlfriend who was nothing like the models and celebrities he now had at his beck and call. Sure, you had a nice run, but all good things must come to an end, no? Lucky you, you even got a song named after you. You didn't feel so lucky. But you manage to pull yourself together and move on.
Yandere!Rockstar who starts to feel a bit off. He can't put his finger on it though. It bothers him when he gets to his penthouse and it's a mess from a party. It was never like that before. It used to smell like home cooking and fresh flowers. What changed?
Yandere!Rockstar who becomes restless. It's like he's constantly searching for something that used to be there, just in his peripheral, something he always had but never really noticed until it wasn't there anymore.
Yandere!Rockstar who can't write any more songs. It's like he can't string together a cohesive lyric anymore. His band, his manager, everyone gets frustrated with him because they don't understand. They don't understand that something is missing.
Yandere!Rockstar who feels so lonely. There's thousands of people who would give themselves to him if he so much as breathed in their direction. But no matter how much sex he has, how many fucked up, short lived relationships he enters, there's an empty void that nothing can fill.
Yandere!Rockstar who almost gives up. His music has no meaning now and he can't even mourn what would have been in the privacy of his own home. Because everyone, so oblivious to his turmoil, still wants to party with the star.
Yandere!Rockstar who, in a drunken tirade, turns to a model that keeps latching herself to him asks her what she thought of his music. She liked it all, of course. But what's your favorite song, he urges. She thinks for a while and finally mentions a popular song in one of his albums. It's good. A really good song. But Axel frowns and asks, what about Starlight?
Yandere!Rockstar who immediately remembers you. Sweet, loyal you. Because you would never scoff and dismiss Starlight as 'that cheesy song'. You knew how important it was. You were the first to hear the song and see it for what it really was, to see him for what he really was. Starlight, 'Y/N', every single song he had ever written was a love poem to you. The only problem with his new songs was that you were what was missing.
Yandere!Rockstar who got his manager to dig up your information, the woman would do anything to keep Jailbird up and running. Axel barely even thinks of the details or perhaps of what to say to you. All he wants is to see your face and for you to look at him like you always used to, like he was your everything.
Yandere!Rockstar who wanted, more than anything, to have you love him again. And this time, he swore he would never let you slip out of his grasp again.
FIND MY MASTERPOST AND ALL MY LINKS HERE
Please leave a like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed. It took me a while to get inspo so I really hope you guys liked this.
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ckret2 · 8 months
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please more evil ford please i stare with my puppy eyes for this i am obbsessed
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Yeah all right, I've been working on some art. (For context, we're talking about this Evil Ford.)
Evil Ford is Evil as in "cheerfully works with Bill even after learning his full plot" and "is totally ready to conquer and/or destroy the world." But other than the shocking lack of basic ethics and the supervillain objective he's mostly the same guy—which means he still cares about his family. He's hoping to get them to join in on the world conquest plan.
Forty-odd years ago he went off to college promising someday he'd be a big shot scientist who changes the world and he'd make his family a fortune. If taking over reality doesn't qualify he doesn't know what does. The family can join him and his buddy Bill and rule the universe together. Pines Pines Pines Pines!
Unfortunately for him, the rest of the family still has normal moral compasses. And also they've met Bill.
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Bill can't currently possess Ford due to Reasons; but even though he can't get in the driver's seat he still has permission to ride shotgun at any time. Ford talks to him pretty regularly. He HAS been caught doing this. Stan thinks he's just gone a little nutty from thirty years of isolation.
Naturally, since he was always on Bill's side, Ford's perception of events during Weirdmageddon is a bit different:
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I finally made an official Evil Ford New Costume Character Design, check out his exciting totally different brand new look:
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I decided that, since Ford is still basically the same person aside from his terrible life goals, he'd probably have the same fashion sense. And so... nothing changes except two tiny details lmao.
But he DOES have tattoos:
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I traced a canon character model and took off its top to get a base to slap tattoos on, and then went dang... they gave him a big head and arms. He looks goofy. Anyway,
His forearms have less incriminating tattoos—just a birch tree and a sunrise. (The sunrise looks like the Journal 3 "The Muse Has Spoken" page.) The red text is the "triangulum entangulum" ritual; if anyone asks he'll go "it's uhh an ancient Sumerian poem about how great science is." It's not until he's topless that it's like "oh so he's a CULTIST cultist." The one exception is an unconcealed Eye of Providence on his right palm—but it's in an ink that's only visible in certain lighting. It's there so at any time he can point his hand at something and go "Bill are you seeing this BS?"
Of course, he still has the "hey now, you're an all star" neck tattoo. I didn't have room to draw it.
As you can see, he's made being Bill's right hand man a core part of his personality. Rather than spending 30 years scrabbling around the multiverse desperately searching for a way to destroy Bill, he spent 30 years chilling in the Quadrangle of Qonfusion as Bill's specialest favoritest Henchmaniac, and only scrabbling around the multiverse occasionally for fun & profit.
Here's a photo Bill & Ford took at a Nightmare Realm house party like fifteen years ago, three minutes before Bill started an argument and set the house on fire.
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Most people have their wild party years in college, Ford has his in his 40s.
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insightful-mother · 2 years
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“..I’m fine.”
She is not fine. Christmas party RSVP email came in and she is not happy and not okay-
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astonmartinii · 9 months
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a very nonsense christmas | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem singer!reader
face claim: sabrina carpenter
based on this request: Hi, how are you can you please write something with Charles x singer reader like a part 2 of "nonsense... or is it?" based on Santa doesn't know you like I do music video something very wholesome idk you can ignore this if you want, hope you have a good day/night 🤍 - @rana030
MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI? | PART ONE
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,441,934 others
yourusername: do you hear those slay bells ringing? i love christmas so much that i'm giving you guys six new songs for this holiday season !!
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user1: mama is going straight on the nice list for this one
user2: christmas is saved
charles_leclerc: so proud of you cherie
yourusername: says the muse
charles_leclerc: you're my angel on the top of the tree
yourusername: as long as you're under the tree ready to be unwrapped
pierregasly: STOP
alexalbon: we MUST protect the sanctity of christmas
yourusername: oh alex, do not listen to the ep...
alexalbon: too late just pressed play
alexalbon: YOU NEED THE CHARLES DICKENS ???
yourusername: amazing word play, am i right?
alexalbon: no.
charles_leclerc: he doesn't meant that babe. lily has a commitment, he's just lonely
user3: y/n was like "if you weren't aware, i am getting DICKED DOWN for christmas"
user4: as much as i'd peel all of my skin off to be in either of their positions, good for her
maxverstappen1: i think nonsense christmas has single handedly killed my investigative journalism career. i am not analysing charles' massive sack
yourusername: damn right you won't be
charles_leclerc: maybe you should analyse it, you could learn something from it
maxverstappen1: hOW DARE YOU
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yourusername
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liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,887,341 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, taylorswift & killatrav
yourusername: thank you to all the lovely people who came to the fruitcake release party ! xx
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user7: CHARLES AND TRAVIS IN ONE PLACE ALERT
user8: so does this mean we can get a y/n and charles appearance on the new heights podcast?
charles_leclerc: do you think people could tell i was about to pass out while playing the piano?
yourusername: definitely not !
maxverstappen1: yes we could
charles_leclerc: WHAT I WAS JUST NERVOUS AND I DIDN'T WANT TO LET Y/N DOWN AND TAYLOR WAS THERE SO I DIDN'T WANT TO EMBARRASS MYSELF
maxverstappen1: okay i didn't need the pity party. you were good, unfortunately very good. i need to learn piano now. i have to beat you in everything
yourusername: maybe you should've forgone the santa suit... it was quite warm
charles_leclerc: but you wanna be mrs claus ? (i also have a big north pole lol)
alexalbon: ENOUGH
user9: wait so like, was the grid at the release party?
user10: based on most of their instagram stories, and y/n's stories i'm gonna say yes
taylorswift: i had so much fun !! i love fruitcake and tell charlie his piano was great
charles_leclerc: SUCK ON THAT @maxverstappen1
taylorswift: ?
charles_leclerc: we've got bad blood taylor's version featuring kendrick lamar?
taylorswift: i see
maxverstappen1: he's the reason we can't have nice things
user11: someone free taylor from lestappen
killatrav: okay. the girls throw the best parties. esteban and pierre i own your team now, you guys gotta get better at drinking
yourusername: careful travis they're french ...
killtrav: is your boyfriend not also french? he's like a puppy dog
yourusername: HE'S MONAGASQUE
charles_leclerc: i am NOT french
estebanocon: i only threw up because eggnog is not what you guys advertise it to be
pierregasly: i'm not gonna lie i don't remember even seeing you last night
user12: okay so get invited to one of these parties is definitely on the bucket list now
charles_leclerc
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liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 1,922,033 others
tagged: yourusername, killatrav
charles_leclerc: charles and travis 🤝 just happy we got a chance
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user13: if he's not like them i don't want it
user14: if santa doesn't pull through with a man like them under my tree this year ... imma be mad
killatrav: travis and charles 🤝 having girlfriends that make us giggle and swing our feet
charles_leclerc: does the honeymoon phase ever finish?
killtrav: well it definitely hasn't for me
maxverstappen1: NOOOOOOOOOOOO
alexalbon: say it ain't so
yourusername: haters gonna hate 😎
alexalbon: he is so happy it is bordering on insufferable
charles_leclerc: alex :(
alexalbon: i am very happy for you charlie and lily is definitely very happy for you, but if you talk to me for the TWELVE HOUR flight to brazil again i will terminate this friendship
killtrav: i am so confused
user15: poor travis and taylor are just being exposed to the grid chaos
yourusername: you posting this like i'm not the luckiest girl in the world
charles_leclerc: i just love you so much and i'm so glad you shortlisted me for your music video
yourusername: yeah spolier alert there was no shortlist. i wanted you and i didn't want to get out right rejected...
charles_leclerc: as if i would reject any offer from you i think i would've torn down maranello if they said i wasn't allowed to be in it
scuderiaferrari: ?
user16: i'm so obsessed with how much charles has embraced the wag life
user17: can't believe i get to live a life where i can bop along to music about how good in bed charles leclerc is
user18: they better not break up cause i may be tifosi but i shall be streaming
yourusername added to their story
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yourusername
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liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,833,922 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: santa doesn't know you like i do baby
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user21: all i want for christmas is even more y/n and charles content
user22: mum and dad have kept us fed over the winter break
user23: i'm not ready for them to be separated when the season starts again :(
charles_leclerc: not to be that person but we're so hot
yourusername: no, you should say it louder
charles_leclerc: WE'RE HOT
maxverstappen1: can you people knock it off or we're not coming to your christmas party
yourusername: ERM ??? 🫤
alexalbon: you people have single handedly made me the grinch
yourusername: but but but ??? you all begged for an invite :(
charles_leclerc: FAKE and that's why you're all getting coal from us
user24: my god i am so lonely
user25: if i don't wake up to a charles shape gift under my tree i will not make it to next christmas
danielricciardo: just to be sure, this party is not going to be filmed and turned into a music video?
yourusername: it's just an old-fashioned shin dig girly don't worry
yourusername: or by the tone of this, should i be worried?
danielricciardo: no!
charles_leclerc: do NOT ruin my home please
danielricciardo: no promises xoxoxo
user26: y/n might want to film the party but I NEED THE FOOTAGE
user27: @tedkravitz boy do i have a gig for you
danielricciardo
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,093,445 others
tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername
danielricciardo: do NOT drink the eggnog at a y/n christmas party this is a public safety announcement
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user28: i would commit unspeakable crimes to be present here
yourusername: if you weren't a fake fan you would've listened to fruitcake and would know we spike the eggnog 🤷‍♀️
danielricciardo: i am a fan !!!!!!!!!
yourusername: you asked me and yuki how we escaped the north pole last night
yukitsunoda0511: don't think i've forgotten about that, say goodbye to a tow in quali old man
danielricciardo: IT WAS A COMPLIMENT ELVES ARE CUTE?
charles_leclerc: don't call my girlfriend cute that's my job 🤨
danielricciardo: do you people ever let me live? i am battling a hangover like no other please stop shouting at me
charles_leclerc: maybe someone of your old age should manage his drink better
danielricciardo: THAT'S IT I'M GOING
yourusername: thanks we did actually want the kitchen floor back
user29: daniel calling y/n and yuki elves kills me
yourusername: we're not elf height we're cutie patootie height 💅
yukitsunoda0511: amen
alexalbon: i will endure the torture because that was fucking insane
maxverstappen1: @yourusername you're in charge of all after parties now sorry
yourusername: let charlie win and you got a deal
maxverstappen1: i'd rather drink my gin and tonic in a ditch than let that happen
charles_leclerc: BOOO
alexalbon: cocktail recipe immediately @yourusername
yourusername: you've changed your tune ?
alexalbon: i had fun, sue me. plus i am actually happy for charlie but please no more singing about his dick
yourusername: i can't make any promises
charles_leclerc: and there's plenty of material to get the creative juices flowing
alexalbon: FUCK OFF
maxverstappen1: FUCK OFF
user30: the grid will never know peace, not even at christmas time
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charles_leclerc
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liked by taylorswift, yourusername and 1,893,446 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: nothing like the holidays with the love of your life
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user35: how down bad all men should be
yourusername: best holidays ever !!!! love you charlie xx
charles_leclerc: my christmas wish last year came true, and now you're stuck with me
yourusername: no one i would rather be stuck with
charles_leclerc: I LOVE YOU
yourusername: I LOVE YOU MORE
user36: good thing i got presents this year or the sheer sight of this couple would make me so jealous i would spontaneously combust
user37: real
landonorris: you will see to the crime of the stupid amount of mistletoe you had up at that damn party
charles_leclerc: have you seen y/n? (don't answer that) obviously i want any excuse to kiss her
landonorris: i DON'T CARE I HAD TO KISS DANIEL FIVE TIMES I WILL NEVER RECOVER
danielricciardo: i know you enjoyed baby
landonorris: @yourusername @charles_leclerc YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS
yourusername: idk it looked like you enjoyed it to me
landonorris: you WATCHED?
yourusername: i filmed it :) top blackmail material, don't crash into charlie OR ELSE
charles_leclerc: thanks babe
landonorris: @georgerussell63 get the gdpa to intervene nOW
georgerussell63: eh i'm quite entertained
user38: this really is the giving season huh
arthurleclerc: do i mean nothing to you?
charles_leclerc: you're nowhere near as cute as y/n 🤷‍♀️
yourusername: awwwww charlie
arthurleclerc: EXCUSE ME? WHAT HAPPENED TO CHRISTMAS SPIRIT?
user39: charles is really ride or die lol
note: have a very merry christmas! i hope you guys all have a great holiday season and enjoy this quick one! i've been super busy but wanted to give you all a lil christmas treat - much love xx
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veltana · 10 months
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Riding into the night - Biker!Bucky/Reader
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✦ Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader ✦ Word count: ~7,8k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings/tags: AU, kind of soft!dark!Bucky, smut, fluff, past asshole partners mentioned, squirting, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spanking, spitting, edging, dirty talk, praise, degradation if you squint, breeding kink if you squint, manhandling, vaginal sex, condom, cum shot, pet names (Fairy). ✦ Summary: One of the bikers caught your attention as they tumbled inside. Tall, broad, covered in tattoos, and wearing a leather vest. Essentially no different from the rest of the gang. But those blue eyes met yours and for a second the world stood still. It was only you and him. ✦ Note: I don't know how to play pool, just go with it! 😂 This is also posted on my AO3
Masterlist | AO3
It was Yelena's bachelorette party and after dinner and clubbing, she insisted you find a less respectable place to round out the night.
That’s how you end up in the sleazy bar at the edge of town that smells of sweat, stale beer, and badly fried food. The drinks are watered down but it doesn't tamper the mood of the party, because they have a few pool tables strewn about, and you never miss an opportunity to crush your friends with a few good games. The only problem is the group of bikers that rolled in fifteen minutes ago, filling up the rather empty bar with their loud voices.
As you're bending over the table to aim you can't shake the feeling of being watched. It throws off your concentration and you don’t hit the ball where you want, making you fail the shot. Righting yourself you sigh with irritation.
"That's not like you," Natasha points out as she gets ready for her turn. With a shrug you say, "Maybe I'd just had too much to drink." Yelena snorts, "I've seen you drunk enough to barely stand and still beat everyone." She waggles her eyebrows, "I think it's a pair of blue eyes that's distracting you."
You give her the finger, but you know exactly what she's talking about. One of the bikers caught your attention as they tumbled inside. Tall, broad, covered in tattoos, and wearing a leather vest. Essentially no different from the rest of the gang. But those blue eyes met yours and for a second the world stood still. It was only you and him. It felt as if diving into a clear blue lake on a hot summer day with not a problem in the world for you to care about. Then you realized you were staring and quickly looked away, breaking the small hypnosis.
Despite having had the most to drink all night, Yelena's observation skills never evade her. She saw what happened and she'd be damned if she let an opportunity to taunt you go to waste.
Quickly shooting a glance at the table, you find the man with the blue eyes. Unabashedly he's staring at you from where he sits. The others around him are talking, laughing, being rowdy, but not him. He takes a drink from his beer in silence, tattooed fingers holding the bottle, and never once does his gaze waver from you. His dark hair is in a ponytail but small strands have broken free to be tucked behind his ears.
You wouldn't say you have a type, but if you did, it wouldn't be him. You like nice guys. So far not anyone you've dated has had a single tattoo. On the other hand, you don't have to date him to fuck him. And that is something you're in desperate need of.
"And now she doesn't even realize it's her turn!" Carol breaks you from your musings and you look at the pool table. Shaking out your shoulders you try to dispel the feeling of eyes boring into your neck. Surveying what you have in front of you, a plan forms in your mind.
"Oh, I know that look!" Natasha shouts unnecessarily loud. She’s had the second most to drink through the night. You and Carol on the other hand are as close to sober as it gets.
Taking a breath, you get into position. In quick succession, you hit three shots dead on and they go right where they should, but when you move to the fourth, Carol is leaning against the edge. "You're in the way," you tell her. "I know!" she smiles. "Can you move?" "No, unfortunately not."
You try to push her off but she's solid muscles. Natasha and Yelena laugh at your failed attempts. "You know I'm going to win this anyway, right?" "I don't have to make it easy for you," she points out.
There is only one other option if you want to make the shot. So you climb up, sitting down on the edge to lean awkwardly past Carol. Just as you move the cue, she taps the edge, causing it to graze the top of the ball and then slide off. "Hey!" Hopping down, you poke her with the stick. "That's cheating!" "It's not like you to miss, are you feeling okay?" she grins. "You're such a sore loser, you know that?" "I have no idea what you're talking about." "My turn!" Natasha yells and shoves you to the side.
You take a few steps back and walk into something solid. Craning your neck to look up over your shoulder you freeze. It's him. The heat from his chest warms you and you're enveloped in his smell of fuel, beer, and cologne that is in no way unpleasant. "How about I buy you a drink as compensation for losing?” his smooth voice asks. That should make you mad because technically you didn't lose, Carol sabotaged you, but it's hard to conjure those feelings when your insides feel as if they’re liquefying. Instead, you nod dumbly before turning to your friends.
"Hey, is it okay-," you start but Yelena won't let you finish. She just waves her hand in a shooing motion and the others don't acknowledge your supposed question. "I'm just going to put this back," you gesture with your cue, but another, equally tall biker comes up beside the man with the blue eyes.
His hair is shorter and blond, cute, but not as drop-dead gorgeous as the other. "I'll take it, play your last rounds," he smiles and grabs the stick, before making his way to your friends.
With a grin, the man with the blue eyes nods his head towards the bar and you follow the short distance. When both of you have taken your places on the high chairs he asks, "What do you want?" "Just a beer's fine," you shrug. He orders from the bartender and then turns to you. "I'm Bucky," he says. After introducing yourself you ask, "Is that your real name or is it your ‘biker-name’?". He chuckles and puts a strand of long hair behind his ear. "It's actually a nickname I've had since I was a kid. And Steve," he gestures to the big guy who took your pool cue earlier, "Has always called me that. My legal name is James."
"But you prefer Bucky?" He shrugs, "I don't think anyone has called me James in a long time." "It's a pretty name, but Bucky sounds cooler. Way more biker!” you smile. That makes him laugh and you find yourself beaming. There is just something about him. He looks tough on the outside but you have a feeling he's a big teddy bear on the inside, and hearing him laugh makes you giddy.
The beer gets lower in your glass as you talk. He buys you another one but is still sipping on his first. "Not a fan of beer?" you ask. "I want to be able to get home in one piece later, and getting drunk is a recipe for crashing." "Have you ever crashed?" "Multiple times, but never anything severe." "What kind of bike do you have?" "I can show you." There is a glint in his eyes that makes your gut clench most pleasantly. "I would love to!"
When you hop off the stool, you lose your balance for a second. Yelena insisted that you all wear heels but you're not used to it in any way. Luckily, Bucky is quick with his arm, putting it around your waist and pulling you into his side to steady you. "Woah there, lightweight. I didn’t know anyone could get drunk off that beer." "I'm not drunk, it's these damn shoes! lost my balance!" "I better keep my arm around you, just to be safe." His smile is warm and playful and it’s as if his touch is burning your skin through your clothes. Your heart speeds up, fingertips tingle. "Yeah, just to be safe," you answer in a low voice.
His eyelids lower, blue eyes turning stormy. Electricity crackles between you and you wonder what he tastes like. But making out in the middle of a bar feels weird so instead you say, "About the bike?" "Yeah, the bike,” he murmurs and it takes a second or two for him to start moving again.
Before you leave, you stop by the pool table where the majority of the bikers have joined the small party. Someone has taken the tiara Yelena previously wore and put it on Steve's head. Another guy is wearing her sash. She's telling them about her wife-to-be, showing them all the cute pictures she's taken of Kate. As you pass Natasha you tell her, "We're just going to look at his bike." She eyes you up and down. "If that is some biker-slang for sex, just say that instead."
Bucky howls with laughter as you punch her in the arm, telling her to fuck off. She brushes her skin. "I think there are mosquitoes in here."
Before you can give her a piece of your mind Bucky drags you outside. It’s a warm evening and you’re glad because you only have a thin blouse on. "You're not a mosquito,” he comforts. “You’re too pretty for that, more like a fairy covered in all that glitter.” Your tummy loops when he calls you pretty and you look down at yourself. At some point, Carol had produced a can of glitter spray to drench all of you in. "I think there is a joke in there about sucking, but I can't find it right now,” you tell him instead, which makes him chuckle before stopping in front of a huge black bike. It's one of those chopper-esc things, not the sporty kind, and in the light from the streets, it looks menacing. "That's a monster," you point out. "It's not that bad." "It's standing still and I'm scared of it."
Bucky moves you from his side to the front of him, making you take a few steps closer. Then he grabs your wrist and puts your hand on the handlebar. "See, it's not so scary," his voice is low, right by your ear, making you shiver. "Yeah, it is," you mumble. "Promise I won't let anything happen to you if you hop on." You look up at him over your shoulder. "You underestimate how clumsy I am. What if it tips over?" "It won't," "Just, don't kill me when it happens, okay?"
What he says next is so faint you almost don't catch it. "There are other punishments I would rather use." Somehow your brain filters that into the purely sexual category and another shiver runs through you. Yeah, Bucky seems like the person who would administer sexual punishments. That is something you've never explored before but it still sends a tingle of excitement down your stomach.
Ignoring it for the moment you swing your leg over the saddle and settle on the seat. The tank in front of you has a huge red star on it and you trace it with your fingertips. "How does that feel?" he smiles down at you. The shadows make him look as menacing as his bike but he feels a lot less scary.
"Okay, I guess," you shrug and try to reach the handlebars but your arms are too short to properly grip them. "How do you even…?" "Scoot over and I'll show you." He gestures and you slide backward before he gets on like he's never done anything else in his life, gripping the handles without a problem.
"Should I start it up?" he asks over his shoulder. You shake your head vigorously, "Absolutely not!" He gets off the bike, just to straddle it the opposite way so he's turned towards you. First, he grabs your legs and puts them over his thighs, then pulls you closer with his hands on your waist. Your breathing gets shallow being so close to him. "Then how am I supposed to take you home, Fairy?" You grab a hold of his vest to steady yourself. "You wanna take me home?" "It's all I've been thinking about since I walked through the door tonight," he confesses.
"Oh," you just answer. His hands are warm through your blouse, the blue eyes piercing despite the low light. There is no denying you want him, you do, but going off with a stranger makes you weary. "Come on Fairy, tell me you don't feel the same?" "Yeah I do, it's just that I don't know you." You brush your hands inside his vest, letting them travel over the broad expanse of his chest, feeling him through his t-shirt.
For a moment you sit quietly and touch each other. Your brain is going a million miles per hour, weighing pros and cons. Bucky doesn’t seem like a psychopath who will rape and murder you. But on the other hand, he might as well be. "Then how about this," he suggests. "I go back in there and let your friends take a pic of me, leave my address and if you don't check in by midnight they can call the police." Your mouth hangs open. "You want to fuck me that bad?"
"I don't think you understand," he seems a little frustrated and his hands harden at your waist even though his voice stays soft. Leaning down, brushing his nose against yours, he explains, "Not only are you the sexiest thing I've seen in a long while. You're gorgeous. On top of that, I've learned in the last hour, that you’re funny and sweet too. So indulge me, let me take you home and show you just how good I can make you feel."
Your mouth is dry as a desert. No one has ever spoken to you like that before. No one has in such a short time made you feel so desired. Finally, you decide to go with your gut, hoping it’s not going to turn out to be a terrible mistake. "Okay, Bucky," you nod.
With a wicked smile, he gets off the bike and walks back to the bar. You take out your phone and quickly write in the group chat, telling them your location is on and sending them a picture of his bike with the red star showing.
It takes longer for Bucky to come back than you thought it would and when he emerges, you notice his vest is gone. "What happened?" "That red-headed friend of yours gave me a stern talking to, and made me leave the vest." "Why?" "She said it seemed important to me, and you're important to her, and if I do something to hurt you she's going to do unspeakable things to the vest and my reputation."
That makes you laugh. Natasha may antagonize you on a regular basis but she's also fiercely protective.
He snatches a helmet from the bike beside and turns to you. "Ever ridden one of these before?" "Not a motorcycle! I've ridden a regular bike." He huffs at that before listing off some do's and don'ts. "But the most important thing," he finishes. "Is that you hold on to me really tight." He smirks, before putting the helmet on your head, tightening the straps. It's a little big but you don't think it will come off.
Bucky gets on and the bike roars to life. Telling you to hold on to him was unnecessary because the moment the sound and feel of the bike hits you, your arms go around his waist and grab onto his clothes. Your heart is hammering and you feel a nervous sweat run down your neck. He never puts a helmet on and before you know it you're flying down the streets.
You have no idea how much time passes or where you are in the city since you’re devoting all of your concentration to hanging onto him. Finally, he slows down and drives into a parking garage attached to a high-rise building. Cars stand in neat rows and he parks in an unoccupied space before getting off.
With shaky fingers, you try to open the clasp to the helmet but fail three times before he notices and does it for you. "That bad huh?" he asks as he hangs the helmet on the handle. "I don't think I can stand," you confess.
As you get off, Bucky holds you to his chest until the ground stabilizes around you. You take the opportunity to study him. There are crow's feet at the edge of his eyes that tell you he smiles a lot. Above the cleft in his chin is his full lips that you've been eyeing for most of the evening. They look soft and delicious.
Your hands travel up and braid behind his neck. Experimentally you pull, seeing if he'll follow, and he does. "I think a kiss would also help," you hint. "Who am I to say no," he hums in response.
As he bends down, you rise up and your lips meet halfway. At first, it's slow but you're both a bit desperate and it quickly gets heavier. Your finger loosens the hair tie and tangles in his long strands, pulling lightly, drawing a pleased sound from his throat. In response, he cups your ass and lifts you off the ground to pull you closer. A surprised moan leaves you before you wrap your legs around his waist and he starts walking. He breaks away just so he can find the button for the elevator, then he is right back to your lips.
Inside, he presses you up against the wall hard enough to get his hands free. They slide up your sides, in under your blouse, making you sigh into his mouth from contentment, fisting the hair at the nape of his neck harder, pressing him closer. Too quickly, but also not quickly enough the elevator dings with the announcement of its arrival on the floor.
Once again Bucky carries you to the door where he fumbles with the keys before getting it open, never breaking from your mouth.
You don't see much of the inside of his apartment because as soon as the door shuts you start pulling at his clothes, wanting them off, to feel his warm skin. The sheets are blue and the bed soft you notice as he places you down on it. With pants and blouse off, the next thing that goes is your bra and he stops the feverish kissing long enough to take you in.
"Fairy," his voice is grovely. "Fuck!" Is all he says before he gently cups your tits, thumbing your nipples and drawing small pleased sounds from you. The fabric of your panties is soaked and every pass over your sensitive peaks shoots another bolt of desire through you.
"Bucky! Can you… please!" you try. It's hard to form words. In an alarmingly short period, he’s got you unbelievably horny and all you can think about is that you need to be touched, to come!
Still playing with your tits he asks, "What do you need Fairy? Tell me what I can do for you." "Take the rest of your damn clothes off and eat me out, or finger me, or something! I'm dying!" "We don't want that now do we?" he smirks and bends down enough to give each of your nipples a kiss. When the last of his clothes go, you suck in a breath because he looks fucking divine. Just like his arms and fingers, his chest and abdomen are covered in tattoos but it doesn't hide the powerful muscles underneath. “You are… wow…” you tell him and swallow roughly. Before you have time to inspect every swirl of ink, he climbs onto the bed and starts up where he left off. His mouth trailing down from your sternum, over your stomach, dragging his teeth tantalizingly over your hip bones, kissing your mound before carefully ridding you of your underwear.
He spreads you with his thumbs, moaning when he sees how wet you are. "Fairy, I think your cunt likes me," he teases. You're about to grip his head and shove his mouth to where you need it, telling him to shut up and get going, but luckily he doesn’t waste any more time.
The cry of pleasure that leaves your mouth is probably heard by the neighbors. Feeling him work you over sends your head spinning and your body twitching. With his tongue and his lips, he tries different pressures and speeds just to see what makes you moan the loudest. "Fingers, Bucky! I need your fingers!" you tell him and seconds later two thick digits start pumping in and out of you, crooking every now and then to find the right spot.
It builds inside you in no time, the dual sensation making it brilliant. But what you feel as you near the edge makes you put your hands against his forehead, pushing and saying, "Wait! Bucky, stop." Hastily he pulls away, fingers leaving you, eyes wide and confused as he sits up. "What is it? Did I hurt you?"
Panting heavily, trying to get your quivering body under control, you wave your hand. "No, no, it's fine! Don't worry!" Then he dares touch you again. His hands slide up and down your inner thighs in a soothing gesture. "Tell me what's wrong. Do you want to stop?" His voice is as soft as his gaze on you.
"God no, I don't want to stop! It's just, ehm…" you feel the embarrassment in your chest, heating you from the inside in an unpleasant way. "Please tell me, Fairy. We can do whatever you want." You try to explain in as roundabout terms as possible, "Sometimes… when it's really good… I can't control what my body does." If you had been smart you would have had this conversation before getting into bed with him, but you weren’t, so now you have to face the unpleasant consequences. "Fairy, what are you saying?" Burying your face in your hands you continue, "Sometimes it's only a little and sometimes it's a lot, but I don't know beforehand so it's better to stop and let me calm down a bit."
There is a beat of silence before his command cuts through it, "Look at me." Slowly you lower your hands. "Were you about to squirt?" he asks point blank. "I hate that word,” you mutter. "Tell me, Fairy," he commands again. "Yes, I'm sorry. I can't control it, it happens!” You’ve had this conversation before, usually after it was already too late and you know how it goes. Luckily you remembered to stop. You’re not sure you would have been able to live it down if it had happened with Bucky. But he does not look happy at all, his eyes near slits, and you reach out towards him, letting your palms graze along his arms to placate him. “I've calmed down now so we can keep going if you want. It rarely happens when I have sex so we can just do that!"
"No," his cold tone answers and your stomach drops. Before you can crawl off the bed to go home he says, "Turn over, ass up, head down." "Bucky, I can just…" You aim your thumb at the door but he doesn’t acknowledge the gesture, only telling you, "Do it, Fairy."
Confused but also curious you turn over on your stomach and bring your knees in under you, doing as you’re told. His hands start making slow steady circles over your ass, caressing and squeezing. "Have you ever been spanked before?" "What?" "You heard me. Have you?" "No… not really…" "So, because you robbed me of your fountain orgasm I'm going to spank you as a punishment. And then you're going to turn over again and I'm going to make you come until you've ruined the sheets. Are we clear, Fairy?" "But, I just thought-,” you begin but he interrupts you. "Whatever someone has said to you before to make you think that you don't deserve to come as hard as you can, makes me so fucking angry. I want all of your pleasure, Fairy, and you're going to give it to me. Understand?" Once again you’re surprised by his words and you give yourself the benefit of the doubt that he knows what he’s in for. With a soft voice, you tell him, "I understand Bucky," and arch your back, showing him that you're ready. "Fucking beautiful."
The sting to your ass is more pleasure than pain. With every impact from his hand, a jolt goes to your cunt. If you were wet before, you're dripping by the time he declares you're done. Each of your ass cheeks gets a kiss before he pushes at your hip and makes you lay on your back again, the sheets cool against your heated skin. He crawls up over you, giving you a long hard kiss. "How are you feeling?" "Very horny," you confess. "Ready to come for me?" "Absolutely, Bucky!"
In no time, he’s back between your legs and starts as he did before, licking and tasting you until you're begging for his fingers. The combination of your slick and his saliva have wetness running down your ass, making a puddle below you. Since you were already so close before you made him stop, it doesn't take long for the coil to wind tight in your lower belly. It’s the same feeling as earlier and you warn him before it happens. "Bucky, I'm going to come!" For a second he lets up to tell you, "Please do, Fairy, I want every last drop."
Maybe it's because of the unplanned edging together with the spanking or it's because Bucky knows exactly what to do with his hands and mouth, or everything combined, but when you arch off the bed with a mind-boggling orgasm, the sides of your vision go hazy and your legs spasm hard. You think you hear Bucky moan but the blood is rushing in your ears.
Panting worse than before you sink into the bed, body lax with the release and you look down to see the unmistakable sign of your climax. Not only are your thighs wet, but the sheets are a shade or two darker, and Bucky is wiping his smirking face with the edge of the cover.
Biting your lip you try to not feel too much shame, but it's hard after years of being told it's disgusting. Although he said he wanted it, maybe he didn't know what he signed up for. "Sorry," you finally say. "Don't ever say that to me again after coming, Fairy. That was fucking amazing!" "Everything is wet." "Everything can be washed," he reassures you. Then he gets off the bed to rummage through a drawer, pulling out a condom. When he turns to you he says, "Now be a good little Fairy and grab your legs for me so I can fuck that sweet cunt of yours."
You watch with anticipation as he rolls the condom on before you pull your legs up, holding behind your knees. As he gets on the bed again, he takes a second to swipe his cock-head through your slick, lubing himself up, but you're impatient, whining and wiggling to get him inside.
"Yeah, yeah, don't worry, you'll get my cock," he’s trying to scold you but it gets lost when he can’t take his eyes away from the view of pressing inside you. The sensation being carried from your cunt throughout your body as he steadily fills you more and more makes your breathing labored and your hands clamping down on your legs harder. "God, that's a pretty fucking pussy taking all my cock," his voice is so low it travels through you like a baseline. Slowly he pulls out and presses in again, mesmerized by what he's seeing, but for you, it's just pure torture.
"Bucky, I need more!" you beg. His answer isn't to fuck you harder or faster like you want. Instead, he spits on your exposed cunt, making you gasp before he presses a thumb against your oversensitive clit. A loud moan rips from your throat and your legs shake. “You get so fucking tight when I touch your clit, feels amazing!”
He keeps the thumb still as he fucks you. Slow, deep thrusts that keep you right on the edge of coming. If he just moved his finger and sped up a little you'd be flying again. But he seems determined to drag this out, his groans and moans are telling you that he's enjoying it very much. Bucky's eyes keep shifting from your face to your chest, down to where you're connected, watching his cock spear you.
Suddenly he removes his hand, but before you can sound a word of protest he's leaned forward, using both his hands to grab the back of your neck. He bends your head down and lifts you from the bed a little until there is no mistake what he wants you to see. “Watch your pussy take all of my cock, Fairy. It belongs there. As if it was fucking made for me. Sucking me right back in every time I pull out.”
Briefly, he lets you have what you need, fucking you faster, slamming into you, making you feel him deep as you watch your body take him over and over again. You understand why he can’t stop watching. It’s filthy at the same time it turns you on more. In desperation, you reach down to touch yourself but he lets you go, making you bounce against the bed slightly before batting your hands away. Then he pulls out and you cry in protest. “No! Bucky! I wanna come! Fuck me!”
Sweat is glistening on his naked chest and his cock stands out from his body, the condom shiny with your slick, but he doesn't acknowledge your plea, only tells you. “On your stomach. Grab a pillow and put it under your hips.”
The pulse in your cunt is uncomfortable, almost unbearable, and you glare at him, having half a mind to just finish off yourself and get some god damned relief. Bucky raises an eyebrow in question as to why you're not doing as he says. With an irritated huff, you turn over, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it under your hips, folding your arms and laying your head on them with a pout, clearly showing him that you're not happy.
The swat to your ass makes you yelp since it's much harder than when he spanked you earlier. It earns him a glare over your shoulder. “Don't be bratty, Fairy,” he reprimands you before his knees push your legs wider and he presses into you swiftly again. He pulls your hands out from under your head, lacing your fingers together before laying down on top of you, kissing your shoulder.
“We were having such a good time,” he says as he starts fucking you again. The new angle makes his dick press right against your g-spot, forcing a whine out of you. Even though you don’t want to give him the satisfaction you can’t help to push your ass against him. With all his weight on top of you, it's hard to move, but your body craves him. “But now you're mad at me, Fairy. What can I do to make it better?” Rutting harder he sends white-hot pleasure through you. You've never been able to come from penetration alone, but the way your body feels makes you think that this might do the trick. “I want to come!” you almost sob.
“Yeah, I know Fairy. Don't forget that I can feel every little pulse of your cunt around me.” There is no comfort to be found in his tone. “Why are you being so mean?!” you cry. That makes him laugh into your neck. “Oh little Fairy. This is not me being mean. This is me wanting to give you the pleasure of your life.” He nips at your skin. “We could have been done a long while ago. You feel so good I could come any second. But I don't want that.” His hands squeeze yours. “I want you to always remember this. No matter what happens after, it'll be seared into your memories. Every time you're with someone else you'll wish it was me fucking you.”
The little show of possession makes your heart beat double and you're about to tell him you don't want to be with anyone else ever again, but that's crazy, so instead you respond with what you hope will get you what you need. “Then fuck me like you fucking mean it because right now your performance is mediocre at its best,” trying and failing to sound unaffected. This time his laugh is tinged with something cruel and you have a second to wonder what the hell you've let loose before he raises himself, pressing your joint hands into the bed to keep his weight on, and then starting to fuck you in earnest.
A sharp cry is forced from you by the brutal thrusts. The angle is much better and your body starts burning from the inside. Screams, moans, and pleas all tumble together from your lips.
Every time you think you might be close to coming he slows down, just enough to keep you from reaching any kind of high. That makes you livid and when you curse him out, he releases your hands, instead placing them between your shoulder blades, pressing you down hard into the mattress, before starting up again.
“I wish I had a vibrator to shove between your legs. Put it on the highest setting and force you to come over and over again. You'd be begging me to stop instead, trying to run away, crying. I bet you'd look real pretty sobbing.”
Your cunt clenches hard at the mental image he's presenting. You can't decide if that would be worse than this. Your body feels like a livewire, ready to release all the pent-up pleasure that has accumulated in your body. All it needs is the right touch at the right place.
One moment you’re on your front, and in the next, he’s flipped you over on your back again. You don’t even have the presence of mind to be surprised because he’s instantly inside you, your legs over his shoulders and his hands gripping your head, kissing you fiercely. It’s teeth and tongue and lips in a jumble. With his pelvis pressing against your clit it drives you fast towards the edge. “I need to see your face when you lose it on my cock,” he rests his forehead on yours. Despite his words, he slows down when it starts to climb inside you. You groan, almost in pain, the edging is making you feel crazy. Over and over again he refuses you the release you’re so desperately after.
A little too late you realize that maybe there is something you can do, instead of begging, that will get you what you want. “I wish you could come inside me,” you whisper, looking right into his eyes, clenching around him when you speak. When he groans you know you’ve hit the spot, but you press down the grin. “You want to fill me up with your cum, Bucky?” you ask before you give him a ruthless kiss. “Yeah fuck, Fairy!” He thrusts hard in response. “Better fuck me good then, and maybe I'll come back and let you do it.”
“Oh Fairy,” he growls and moves one hand to the headboard, gripping it, the other grasping the base of your skull. “You’ll come back. I'll have you outside my door, on your knees, begging for my cock.” The pace he sets has the bed creaking disconcertingly. “Maybe I'll even let you in, crawling on all fours.”
As his voice paints the picture of your submission, the climax mounts in you. Bucking up against him, you try to get more when he’s already giving you everything. All thoughts about teasing him are forgotten with the immediate pleasure. “Don't stop-don't stop-don't stop!” You chant. “Never, Fairy. Come on my dick. Let me see you.”
Your vision goes spotty when the orgasm hits, your throat screaming his name, body convulsing in a way you’ve never experienced before. Afterward, your body goes limp, twitching with aftershocks as Bucky seeks his own release. Maybe you can't have him come inside you, but you want something more. “Come on me,” you tell him in a hoarse voice. “Fuck! What?” He’s so beautiful above you with his hair hanging down in his face, sweat making his skin shine, the clear desperation and shock on his face. “Paint me with your cum, please Bucky,” you say once again. “God dammit, Fairy! Fuck!” He sits back and rips the condom off. A few swipes are all it takes and he's shooting ropes up your stomach and chest, blue eyes wide and staring as if he can't believe it, moaning your name loudly in his deep voice. It makes you grin like the Cheshire cat, knowing you can affect him just as much as he does you.
He sags down beside you, panting heavily. You never want to move but as the sweat and cum start to cool, your heart calms down, and you start feeling something else.
“Oh, I think I…” you mumble, looking down between your legs. “When I came I…” “You squirted?” Bucky chuckles at your unwillingness to say the word. “Yeah. That usually doesn't happen with sex.” “It did. You almost pushed my dick out when you came too.” He kisses your shoulder and up your neck. You turn your head to meet him in a soft kiss. “You also called me James,” he smiles against your lips.
You stare at him in horror as your mind catches up with what he’s saying and you realize you did in fact do that. “Oh god,” You wish you could sink through the bed and continue into the earth's core. “I don't know why I did that!” He kisses you again. “Don't worry, I liked it,” he reassures you.
After some more kissing, the various bodily fluids on your skin compel you to get up and head for the bathroom to clean yourself up. When you're done you study yourself for a moment in the mirror, thinking that you’ll see something different after you've just been fucked within an inch of your sanity, but you look just the same.
When you get back to the bedroom, Bucky has stripped the bed and is in the process of putting new sheets on. After you help him, you start looking for your clothes, thinking you'll take a cab home, but Bucky stops you by pulling you into a warm embrace. “You need to text your friends. I prefer my vest and my reputation untarnished.”
With a laugh you move to find your phone and when you do you notice you have a bunch of notifications. It's well past midnight.
It seems as if he doesn't want to be far away from you because as you’re writing a reply, he comes up behind you and hugs you close. Suddenly you have a better idea and stop what you’re doing, instead, you take a picture of the two of you, aiming it to just show your bare upper shoulders and your faces. The flash goes off in the dim room and when you see the picture you giggle. What you couldn't tell in the mirror, the picture clearly shows. Two fucked out people. You send it with just a short line about being alive.
When you're done you turn in Bucky's arms. “Satisfied?” “In more ways than one,” he smiles cheekily before kissing you. After a lazy make-out session standing naked in the middle of the room, you begin to pull away. “I need to-” “Stay,” Bucky finishes for you, tightening his arms. “Stay?” “Yeah, I'll make you breakfast tomorrow and then take you home.” “You don't have to,” you tell him. “Indulge me?” “Fine,” you sigh as if it’s a great burden. “I guess I could stay, but if you don't cuddle me, I'm leaving.” He pinches your ass in reprimand, making you jump. “You have no idea what you've signed up for, Fairy.”
True to his words Bucky hardly lets you out of bed, even in the morning when you need to use the bathroom. When you come back he holds up the cover and pats the mattress. As soon as you're beside him he pulls you in closer, putting his face in the crook of your neck and mouthing at your skin. A pleasurable sigh leaves you as you snuggle in closer to his warm body. Although the both of you were naked together the night before you never had time to explore his body, so now you let your hands roam everywhere they can reach.
Bucky lets his own hands travel over your skin, but those touches don’t stay innocent long and soon his erection is pressed into your stomach. Taking pity on him you spit in your palm and grab him, making him hiss at the contact before you lazily start pumping him. When he tries to reach between your legs you push his hand away. “No, let me take care of you,” you say sternly. “Whatever you say, Fairy,” he groans and thrusts into your palm.
There is no finesse to it all, just a quick morning hand job. He comes between your bodies, dirtying the sheets. When you see his eyelids starting to close again you poke him and they fly open. “You promised me breakfast!” “You just missed it,” he winks. In response, you roll your eyes before getting up. “Men!”
Instead of pulling on your jeans and the blouse drenched in glitter from the night before you snag the t-shirt he was wearing and find your discarded panties. The t-shirt barely covers your ass but at least you're semi-dressed as you go out into the kitchen to find something to eat.
Muttering under his breath about you being a stubborn woman he follows you in sweatpants and a fresh henly. Before you can find the coffee he hauls you up and puts you on the kitchen island, boxing you in with his arms on either side, lowering himself to glare at you. “Instead of opening every cupboard in the whole damn kitchen, tell me what you want and I'll make it.” “Coffee, with milk and sugar.” “And to eat?” “What do you usually make for the women you bring home?” you tease.
That makes him rise to his full height, looking down at you, and crossing his arms. “You think I have a habit of bringing women home and fucking them like I did you last night?” “You didn't get that good by theorizing,” you point out. “There hasn't been anyone, in a long time, Fairy,” his voice is suddenly soft as he cups your cheeks. You have another teasing comment on your lips but think better of it when you see his guarded look.
Instead, you put your arms around his waist and pull him in between your legs, resting your chin against his sternum to look up at him. “Then you make me whatever you want. But I don't like fish.” With a smile, he asks, “How about scones?” “Sounds perfect.”
When you’re done with breakfast he puts you on the table, insisting that he needs dessert and showing a much gentler side than the night before as he strums your body until you tell him you can't come anymore. Then he carries you to the couch and puts on a random channel. Together you watch reruns until you slide down his body to give him some of his own medicine. No matter how much he begs, you take your sweet time tasting him and when he comes it’s with a roar of your name. After some more cuddles and a nap, you convince him that you actually need to go home.
Just as you're about to head out there is a knock on the door and Bucky opens it to find Steve outside, holding his vest. Earlier he explained that Steve lives a few apartments down the hall. “I was told to give this to you.” Bucky takes it and inspects it quickly before hanging it up. To you, it seems untarnished.
“Hope Nat didn't give you too hard a time,” you smile. Assuming they'd stayed late at the bar and when she'd seen your text she'd given it to Steve. His eyes quickly flick away and there is a blush on his cheek. “No, no, it was fine.” You narrow your eyes and study him, noticing a small red bite mark on his neck. “Oh my god!” you exclaim and start laughing. Steve blushes even more. Bucky looks confused between the two of you. “What?” In a very loud whisper, you tell him, “I think Nat is at Steve's place.” Bucky's eyes glimmer with mirth and he looks at him. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Steve waves and heads back down the hall. Just as he pulls the door open you yell. “Tell her I said hi!”
Fortunately, Bucky also has a car, and as he drives you home, he keeps his hand on your thigh the entire time. Outside your apartment, he turns to you. “I want to see you again,” he says. “Okay.” You want that too. So much! “When?” “Tomorrow ideally but if that doesn't work, how about a date on Friday?” You could do tomorrow but you feel yourself already falling for him. Some distance would do you good, so you say, “Friday sounds great! Give me your phone.” You type in your number and save it under the fairy emoji before sending yourself a text. Then you save him under a motorcycle emoji.
Before you can get out he pulls you in for a long, deep kiss. “Now go before I kidnap you and keep you warm in my bed all week.” “Don't tempt me with a good time,” you wink and give him one last peck before getting out. In an act of pure self-preservation, you don't look back.
After a long shower, and checking your phone a million times throughout the evening to see if he’s texted, you come to the realization that you will never make it to Friday. You: [If I told you that I’ve changed my mind and want to see you tomorrow, would that make me seem desperate?] The response is quick. Bucky: {No more than I feel right now. I’ll pick you up after work. When do you get off?} Refusing to let an opportunity like that go to waste, you reply. [Preferably quicker than last night. I’m not sure I’m a fan of edging ;)] {Fairy, don’t make me spank you again. Off of work.} [I’ve told you not to tempt me with a good time ;) I get off at four]
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dadsbongos · 3 months
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my wife is cool, understanding, and goes with the flow
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5.7 k words / warnings - fem reader (+referred to as mother/wife), chilchuck's emotional turmoil (he's so in love and so incapable of verbalizing it)
summary - general strings of yours and chilchuck's marriage. good to bad to making up.
~~~
“You know,” you whisper, “If you ignore how nightmarish they were to raise, then they’re kinda perfect kids.”
Chilchuck snorts, letting you hang off his arm as you stand in the doorway to your living room.
Meijack and Flertom are strewn across the couch in opposite directions, Flertom’s feet dangling off an armrest and Meijack’s in her sister’s face. Thankfully, Flertom is not awake to notice the violation of personal space. Puckpatti is curled on the floor before the couch, long auburn hair flayed out and draped over her arms, which she uses as a makeshift pillow.
The front door is wide open, gentle pittering rain having lulled the girls to sleep. Puckpatti had been the one to suggest a ‘slumber party’ in the common space as it rained, even likening the cool air and atmospheric petrichor to camping to incite Meijack. As far as you know, however, none of the girls have been camping, so you’re mystified how that reasoning actually worked.
“Mei and Fler are so big now,” he muses, “Mei thinks she’s ready for the adult world now.”
“As if,” you lay your cheek on his shoulder, silently wishing he’d take the opportunity to kiss your temple. He does not, “We were barely ready when we had them. How’s a nine-year-old prepared for that?”
“That’s what I’m asking.”
Meijack, as if sensing her parents’ lighthearted jabs, rolls over with a grumble and hum, flinging a foot into Flertom’s nose. The younger twin’s face wrinkles in protest, head jerking in the opposite direction -- you and Chilchuck freeze, anticipating a shrill cry, until Flertom relaxes again. The sigh of relief is short, though.
Abruptly, Chilchuck goes rigid, jolting you off him, “Why is Patti on the floor? Like a dog?”
“How am I supposed to know what goes on in that kid’s brain?”
Chilchuck shakes his head and steps over the young girl to shut your front door. Squeaky hinges pull a whine from Patti herself, drowsily rubbing her eyes and calling, “Papa, don’t shut it!”
“What? You want a troll to get in?” he asks sarcastically.
“No,” Puckpatti answers in earnest.
“That’s why Papa wants the door shut,” you kneel by your youngest daughter, brushing back her bangs just to watch her eyebrows scrunch cutely, “So no nasty trolls can get inside…” then you remember your husband’s complaint, “Patti, baby, do you wanna sleep in a chair? Or a bed? The ground doesn’t look very nice to rest on.”
“Yeah, Mama’s right. The ground’s gonna mess up your back,” Chilchuck joins you, ready to scoop up your daughter when she shakes her head.
“Wanna stay by Mei and Fler…” she pouts.
“Okay, but let me set out some more blankets, alright?” you kiss her on the forehead once, then twice when she beams and nods.
Chilchuck is already standing to retrieve spare blankets from your closet, he’s back before you can impede the hallway. He stops you from venturing further by propping a leg in front of you, “Don’t worry about it, I got everything.”
“She’ll need a real pillow, too, honey.”
“Yeah,” he taps at your ankles with his foot until you’re relenting, turning back towards the living room, “I said I got it.”
“Thank goodness for my big, strong man, huh?”
“I am the breadwinner,” he teases, granting you a kiss on the cheek before dropping to lay the blankets out as a makeshift mattress for Puckpatti.
“Self-imposed!” you rasp, stage-swatting at his back, “I could get a job, too!”
“Do you want to?” you want to smack the smug grin off his lips, specifically with your own. In a kiss. For a long while.
“...no.”
He laughs at your sudden shyness. Tempered down only to avoid waking your daughters, “There you go.”
“Boo,” you pull Chilchuck to a stand by the back of his shirt. You pull, and pull, and pull, and you don’t stop until he’s tumbling on top of you into your shared bed, with your door haphazardly kicked shut, “You’re mean to me.”
“I’m mean?!” he whisper-shouts, instantly more affectionate in how he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into your neck, “You choked me, yanking on my shirt like that.”
“You’re alive, aren’t you?”
“Barely,” he abruptly goes limp, “I’m half dead.”
“Half dead isn’t a thing, Chil,” you giggle, trying halfheartedly to shove him off.
“It is, I’m half dead,” he insists, “There’s only one way to revive me.”
“Uh-huh… and that is?”
“A kiss,” Chilchuck lifts his head to look you in the eyes, suggestively bumping his eyebrows, “A sloppy one.”
“No!” you gasp, dramatically.
“Loud and wet,” he nods in even measures, clicking his tongue, “Only way, I guess. Really tough for you.”
“I don’t know about that,” you wiggle out an arm from beneath his body to poke his cheek, “You seem fine now. Very lively and talkative!”
“Means I’m dying faster. It’s the final burst of energy before I shit my pants and die.”
“Ew!” your shout is smothered beneath Chilchuck’s hand, his laughter rumbling your body, forehead digging into your collarbones.
Between choked chuckles Chilchuck manages out a meek, “sorry, sorry!” he gasps for breath and releases your mouth, “That was gross.”
“Yeah, now get off me. You’re nasty.”
“See? You’re mean to me, one mention of shit and I’m just an expendable stud.”
As soon as Chilchuck rolls off you and onto his back, you’re crowding onto him, pawing at his chest and kissing his cheek, “You are a stud.”
“Can I get a kiss for that, at least?”
“I just kissed you, greedy.”
His deadpan stare inspires a bizarre longing in your thumping chest, you stretch to grant his wish. Chilchuck’s hands cup your cheek, holding you close to prolong the kiss as long as you’ll allow. Such restless and selfish want is reserved for behind closed doors, which you wish you could understand, but you don’t.
You’re preoccupied with the dread of death. Half-foots are blessed to live past fifty. Sure, you and Chilchuck are merely scratching at twenty, but life is too short for him to be shy about these things.
“I wish you’d be more open and lovey.”
“Hm?” he hums against your lips, pulling away to stare at you strangely, “Why?”
“‘Why?’” you mock, “I’m your wife! That’s why.”
Instinctually, Chilchuck goes to wave off the answer as a joke and roll his eyes, but then something barks. Both of you pause, heads turning slowly towards the now gaping door to find a shaggy white puppy standing in the dim space. Swiftly, its tail wags, and it barks again before charging towards your bed.
Your screech at the dash rouses Chilchuck from his shock. Clumsily shuffling so he’s in front of you, taking the brunt of the dog’s pounce.
“Since when do we have a dog?!” Chilchuck looks over his shoulder at you, as if you’d know.
“As if I know!” you parrot your thoughts, breath slowing to a calm when the small dog cuddles your husband’s arms, “Kinda cute though, right?”
“He broke in!” Chilchuck accuses, lifting a shoulder to prevent you petting it -- his plan fails miserably and you’re easily scratching behind the dog’s ears, “He could have ticks! He could’ve bit the girls on his way back here!”
“No,” you whine, resting your chin on Chilchuck’s shoulder, “He has a friendly face, he’d never do that!”
“And you know that how…?”
“Aw, Chil, honey, have a heart! He was probably scared of the rain and snuck inside to get away from it!” you reach under the dog’s head to now scritch his chin, “Which is our fault for leaving the door open, isn’t it?” you’re already a lost cause to logic, repeating back to the puppy, “Isn’t it? Yes, it is! Yes, it is! He understands me! He’s so smart, Chil, we have to keep him.”
His silent glowering makes you wilt over his back.
You retreat from the dog to hug your husband from behind, “C’mon, have a heart!”
Irritation pulses through Chilchuck at the turn of tonight’s events. Everything before this dumb dog felt natural, smooth, and familiar. Until you said that.
One thing that makes his heart rate spike. Even though, at twenty, it means very little to him.
‘I wish you’d be more open and lovey.’
He knows this means more.
“Okay, okay,” he eases, snatching a chaste smooch from you before combing a hand down the dog’s soft fur, “I’ll work on it.”
You two never had a dog, though.
Puckpatti is allergic -- you never would’ve gotten a dog since it’d cause your daughter so much distress.
What’s in his arms isn’t a dog, but it isn’t a mimic.
What’s in his arms isn’t a dog because this isn’t real.
.
.
.
Chilchuck’s eyes drift open, a dusty ceiling stares down at him. Slowly, a crushing weight is relieved from his stomach.
Blonde and black hair mingle in his peripherals, then Laios is leaning over him obnoxiously, speaking to the other two while looking at the half-foot, “Does Chil sleep with his eyes open?”
“No,” Chilchuck takes initiative, shoving Laios away by the chin and sitting up with a yawn. His back cracks unpleasantly, and eye crust pokes into his fluttering lids. Rubbing the gross clots away, Chilchuck settles his elbows onto his knees before resting that way -- leaning into his hands even after his eyes have been cleared out.
For a moment, he silently mourns the fading images of his dream; already having forgotten the beginning. No matter how desperately he clings to the story, it escapes, leaking out his ears until all there is left to mourn is the fact he’s awake.
All he knows is that dream ended differently than it should have. Hopefully the ending this time was better than real life, not that it matters. He wouldn’t remember, nor would it change the fact that in reality you two are not together.
“Chilchuck? Are you okay?” Marcille sounds hesitant. Worried.
The last thing he needs is her fretting and prying into what his Nightmare could’ve been about, so instead he lamely says, “Tired.”
“Oh, okay,” she sounds entirely unconvinced. He’s surprised when she doesn’t push.
He’s further surprised when Laios does, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Chil’,” you croon, hands curling around the man’s waist as he silently uncorks a bottle of cheap wine. He makes sure not to jostle you off as he moves the dark glass to his lips, even cupping your overlapping hands with one of his own to steady you, “You should talk to me about these things!”
“It was fine, we went in -- got what we needed -- got out. I’m back and alive.”
‘Alive’ strikes you, it sticks in the back of your head as soon as he says it. Your arms tighten around his slim waist, the slots of his ribs dig into your forearms and it makes your chest tighten. Swirling thoughts colliding and dragging each other deeper and deeper into your darker concerns: Chilchuck starving himself to maintain an unhealthy weight, Chilchuck burning calories in a revival, Chilchuck having to drink himself under just to fall asleep.
“Would you tell me if you died?”
“Why would you want to know that?” he laughs, yet you’re frowning into his back.
You bite your lip until raw iron spills onto your tongue, gnawing it with the anxiety of how to soften this question. How marshmallowy can you make your tone to avoid lecturing while also not patronizing him? Eventually, you settle on just spitting it out,
“Would you even remember it?” he hums, confused, “You drink a lot, Chil’.”
He squeezes your hands, setting down his wine to turn in your hold, now cupping your cheeks -- flush with upset and ready to dampen with tears, “I don’t get blackout on jobs, you know?”
“But,” you don’t want to pester him, to drive him away from home even during his off time, “Chil’, honey, you’re… with your weight, alcohol could- well- !”
“I know,” he interrupts your stammering, drawing a thumb across the apples of your face tenderly. Though his posture is rigid, and his next statement confirms your suspicion that he just wants to stop talking about this, “I appreciate you looking out for me, but really, don’t think so much about it. Work’s not worth talking about at home. And my drinking is totally recreational, I want to enjoy myself and unwind, is that so bad?”
“No,” you heave with defeat, now planting your forehead against his shoulder. Clenching his shirt in a bunch, you squeeze and squeeze and squeeze hoping it’ll squash out any thoughts of continuing to nag his drinking. It’ll end the same way it always does.
Chilchuck is fine because work is fine and his drinking is fine and his diet is fine because Chilchuck is perfectly perpetually fine.
You’re just a worrywart wife. Your kids are grown, having flown the coop, and you’re going mad in loneliness. You should think less. You should learn to be fine like your husband.
“Woah, no way! They want to meet me?”
“Uh-huh,” Chilchuck’s eyes trail after you as you rush from one end of the room to the other, clicking jewelry clasps and snapping buttons into place as you go, “It’s nothing to dress up over,” when you seem to ignore him, he only gets louder, “We’re gonna be late, you know?”
Let me dress up! is what you want to snap at him, but you don’t. Instead, you let those comments join the many others from him that rattle around in the back of your mind like rocks.
“I want to make a good impression,” you finally utter, “It isn’t like you tell me anything about work, I’m excited to meet your friends! Besides, if you wanted me to be more prepared then you should’ve said something earlier.”
“I get it,” and in a bid to be polite, but just coming out tumbling into the rock pile is, “If you had work friends, I’d wanna meet them, too.”
The obvious dig is that you don’t get out. Now that the girls are older and independently caring for themselves, you could more easily find work… the problem lies in how you don’t really want to. You’d be too scared of Chilchuck returning home to an empty house, whenever it is that he does come home.
The hidden dig is that he’s fibbing, he would never want to meet your friends like you want to meet his.
Nevertheless, you tuck a white hyacinth cob into your hair and head for the spot Chilchuck claims his group frequents for after-work drinks. Before tonight, it never really occurred to you that Chilchuck might be grabbing drinks with other people. Not that such an idea alone is what bothers you, rather that he’s out so often and for so long potentially enjoying himself while you’re stuck at home sick over whether he’s alive.
Upon arrival, a pair of tallmen greet you both. Smiles light up their faces, cheeks balling with glee, when their eyes spot you. It should probably be embarrassing how quickly such an insignificant act can get you excited. You wave and they wave back.
“Gonna introduce the lovely lady?” the slightly taller one, black haired with stubble stretching down his neck, prompts.
“We should get to the table first,” Chilchuck reaches for the door, holding it open for you.
(if you were presenting Chilchuck to your friends then you’d repeat yourself introducing him ad infinitum with shining pride, but you add that thought to your rock collection)
“This is my wife,” Chilchuck pulls out your chair for you, waiting until you’re sat before adding your name and sitting beside you, “Hope she’s everything you all hoped for.”
You choose to ignore that. Preferring to strike conversation with his friends until,
“You know,” the blonde woman at the head of the table leans forward, you’ve been rudely trying to avoid looking at her. But how can you blame yourself when she stares at your husband with such a sultry, lidded gaze, “I think you were exaggerating how spacey she is, Chilchuck. Adorable thing’s been keyed into our conversation the whole time.”
Chilchuck grumbles into his rapidly emptying mug of ale, then locking eyes with the blonde woman, “You don’t live with her.”
“Hey!” you sound bratty and grating with the whine, but your spirit feels worse, “Is that what you tell them about me?”
“And clumsy,” the gnome directly across from you chirps.
“But!” the black-haired one from earlier interrupts, apparently sensing your drowning mood, “You’re a good mom! Great, even!”
“Oh,” the compliment does very little to satiate you, given what’s been said against you (you don’t stop to consider that Chilchuck mentions those things because he finds them charming). You look over to your husband, “I’m a good mom?”
Chilchuck is drunkenly chortling over something you hadn’t heard the blonde woman say.
But at least you’re a good mom.
Something plops against the hand buried in your lap. A scattered white hyacinth. Embarrassed suddenly by how much effort you put into your outfit, you sweep the flower off your leg and stare at the table -- praying to avoid more glimpses of the blonde at the head of the table.
Nobody seems to notice your veil of silence, not even Chilchuck to tease you proving his point about spacing out.
On the trek home, you trail behind Chilchuck to test if he’ll notice. At some point, you’re three full paces behind him, and you theorize that the weight of all your freshly added brain-rocks is slowing you down. Again, he holds the door to your shared home open, but does not ask the cause for your sour mood.
Assuming he’s even noticed, anyway.
Given the way he leaves the next morning for another job with little more than a kiss to your forehead, you assume he didn’t. Venomously, you wonder if he would notice the blonde in a bad mood.
That same morning, not knowing how long he’ll be away this time, you pack up and head for Flertom’s house with Puckpatti.
(a flickering hope tries to toss the rocks through your ears, assuring that Chilchuck will come for you as soon as he’s seen you missing)
Four years later, Chilchuck does finally come for you.
“Hey, Mama?” Flertom creeps around the corner to the kitchen, hands wrinkled in the skirt of her dress nervously, “You have a visitor…”
Looking up from your book, you roll the handle of your coffee mug in your palm, making the bottom scrape against your daughter’s tablecloth, “Who’d visit me?”
“Dad.”
That makes you hesitate before slipping your book closed around your thumb, “Your father’s here?”
“He’s at the door,” she nods, voice lowering as if he’d hear her across the house, “There’s an elf lady with him!”
“Oh, you’re- !” you purse your lips, sighing through your nose, and nod. Rising to a stand, you replace your thumb with a proper bookmark before skirting around Flertom and through the hall. Curses coagulate in your throat, and you suffer them silently, holding them until they melt back into your chest, not wanting to swear out your ex in front of his daughter.
With more force than perhaps necessary, you pull the door open and annoyedly flick your eyes from Chilchuck to the blonde elf woman behind him.
“What? Came to show off?”
Chilchuck flushes red, shaking his head and tilting a preciously wrapped bouquet towards you, “No! No, we’re not together.”
Elf Lady lets out a quiet gasp before refusing sharply, “Not together at all! He’s here for you!”
“I figure he’s here for me,” you’re much more bitter than you thought you’d be, although to be fair whenever you imagined Chilchuck coming to see you he was never with another woman, “If you’re not together, why are you here?”
She frowns at your tone, Chilchuck sticking an arm out in front of her, “She’s my coworker. And friend. She pushed me to come see you,” he steps forward, waving the flowers under your nose, “Can we talk?”
“About what, Chilchuck?”
His eyes widen at the use of his formal name, plastic wrap crinkling loudly as he squeezes the flowers. Then his gaze drops to his feet, “I didn’t realize we were so unfamiliar.”
“I haven’t heard from you in four years.”
“You haven’t heard from me?” he grins sideways, an agitated twitch in his left eye, “Do you hear yourself?”
You open your mouth to retort, only to then catch the sight of Chilchuck’s ‘friend’ lingering -- staring -- not even three feet back. Glaring at her, you begin to slide the door shut, “I think we’re done here. You show up at our daughter’s house, unannounced, with some pretty, blonde filly and expect us to chat like old friends? You’re just as insensitive as always, Chilchuck!”
As you go to slam the door, Chilchuck shoves his foot in the way, hissing at the resounding ache all through his instep and ankle. Breathless from the sudden pain, he worms the bouquet through the slim gap -- a few stray powder blue hyacinth petals fluttering to the floor at the pressure. Just above the plush flowers is the sorrowful sight of Chilchuck’s wet lashes and batting eyes.
“Come on,” he huffs, not even taking a huff of relief when you let the door open wider. Tensely, Chilchuck wraps his other hand around the bouquet as well, “It’s not like that, you know me better, don’t you? I just need to talk to you,” the wrap squeals again as he squeezes tighter, “I just want you to tell me where I went wrong.”
He’s playing to your big headedness, vying that he’s alone in the wrong. You know him better, most definitely, you know that as soon as you two sit down he’ll bring up the way in which you left. You deserve that much, don’t you? If you could change anything (given that what you can pick from is what was actually your fault), it would be the manner in how you left. You would’ve waited until he was home to tell him to his face.
(except that’s a lie, if you had waited then you would’ve let him sucker you with soft apologies and unfulfilling promises to change)
This is the most vulnerable you’ve seen him in years.
“She’s not coming into my home.”
Chilchuck nods, lips stretching fondly, “You’re so jealous.”
“She’s tall, and blonde! And pretty. And- !”
He cuts you off, tone just as soft as it was seconds ago, “And I’m not giving her flowers, am I?”
“Apology flowers,” you mutter, though sweeping the bouquet from his arms into yours. Skimming one of the soft petals under your thumb before gliding from one bob to the other and touching there, too. Turning toward the burning feeling of eyes on your back, you find Flertom’s blown out stare meeting yours.
Flertom holds both hands out silently, brows raised. Pushing in neither way, only offering to hold -- whether she holds you or the flowers is your decision. You choose the flowers. She giggles and waves you off, whispering to the flowers about what a lovely, empty vase she has just for them!
“We shouldn’t talk here,” you step out from Flertom’s home, “I don’t want to include our daughter in our troubles.”
“What a good mom,” he teases, waving off the elf as he steps down from Flertom’s porch, holding out a hand to assist you down as well. The remark has a new defiance bubbling beneath your skin.
“I can walk myself,” you bypass his offer.
“I know you can, but let me be nice.”
“You had lots of opportunities to be nice.”
A retort is trapped on the back of his tongue. Ultimately, he swallows it, and says nothing except to suggest a bar nearby, “That could be a good spot,” at your judgmental stare, he sputters, “For talking!”
“Right.”
Chilchuck has a favored tavern in Kahka Brud, the one where you told him you were pregnant with Puckpatti. He, very selflessly and pumped full of blind joy, bought a round for the patrons. It's not a particularly popular or nice place, there’s a lingering smell of mildew and the usual customers are lonely old men (basically: Chilchuck). And the door still creaks when he holds it open for you.
And the tables are just as wobbly when you sit there. Chilchuck tries in vain to mask the tipping by forcing it to one side by pressing his elbows down.
“So, what was she doing there?”
“She kept bugging me about my personal life, so,” he sighs, unsure how to explain himself without sounding out of his mind, “In short, I promised she could meet my family.”
“Pretty against your usual tough front.”
“Not tough,” he folds his arms now, hands on either bicep, still trying to keep the uneven table steady, “I just don’t think they have to know my business.”
“You realize how stupid you sound, right?”
“Oi,” a deep voice approaches from the other side of the bar, a man unfamiliar to both you and Chilchuck stands behind the counter, “We don’t serve kids here.”
Chilchuck groans, pointing at his ears without looking back at the man, then his eyes catch the way you’re prepared to hop down from your seat. He shakes his head, “Don’t move for this dumbass. If he can’t tell a tall-man kid from adult half-foots, he’s a fucking idiot.”
“I guess, but what if he just kicks you out for being a dick?” you glance at the bartender warily, trying to sense if he’s gearing up to throw you and Chilchuck out by force.
“I’m not worried about him,” Chilchuck leans forward, almost as if he can assert control over the situation by a meager height difference, “I’m here to talk to you.”
You’re unsure how to respond to that. It’s something you’ve always wanted to hear from him, but now that you have it feels unsatisfying. After four years of your sudden disappearance from his life, he’s finally given chase.
“Do you have any idea why I left?”
“Roughly,” he admits, voice quiet, eyes redirected to the table in shame, “I wasn’t there for you, right?”
“That’s a bit simplified. When you were on crawls, it felt like you being away for work felt the same as when you were home.”
“I wasn’t there for you,” he restates, nodding slowly, “So, that was it?”
His lack of tension hurts you more than you’re willing to admit. Enough that you temporarily forget that you wanted to make him feel the distance between you both.
“Chil…”
You revert to his first name.
“It’s okay, you can say it. That was it. You had enough.”
It goes unacknowledged, and that hurts all over again. It hurts so bad, you start to get angry that he even maintains such an effect on your heart.
“I didn’t want- it wasn’t- I’m…” you groan loudly, eyes clenching shut to avoid him, “That’s the problem, Chil,” his silence prods you on, “You think of me leaving as… as a ‘that’s it’ moment. Do you know how hard that was on me?”
“Leaving was hard on you? I came home to nothing that day! I thought you were just upset, maybe a little depressed, I didn’t think you were planning to leave me! I never thought you’d leave.”
“I told you. I told you why I was upset.”
“When?”
“I told you all the time!” before he can open his stupid mouth, you’re yelling again, “And if you knew I was so sad, then why didn’t you ask?! Did it never occur to you that I might need support? That I wanted my husband to talk to me about how I felt? That he should talk to me about how he feels?”
“I’m no good with emotional shit, you know that. When I’m upset I just feel uncomfortable spilling that onto others, I didn’t want to intrude.”
“We were married! Spouses are supposed to intrude!”
His shoulders droop, face falling like you said something genuinely devastating (but that can’t be, right? why would he be so upset about something he gave such little thought to?), “Were?”
“I was gone for four years before you came to see me, Chil,” you lay your head in your hands, “Four years before you looked for me.”
“I thought you didn’t want to see me again,” he whispers, “I asked Fler about you.”
“She never told me that.”
“I told her not to.”
Redundantly, you say, “I didn’t know that.”
“I thought you hated me,” Chilchuck draws a slow breath, it fills his whole chest before he lets it all out, “And for the first couple of months after Fler told me you were safe, I hated you, too. I was so mad that you didn’t even leave a note. I couldn’t eat or sleep, I was just… confused, and angry. I couldn’t work,” he swallows hesitation, “And the worst part was… I couldn’t talk about it because nobody knew you. Re-explaining it to people would just piss me off all over again.”
“Your old coworkers met me. And we grew up with Dandan.”
“I didn’t want to talk to Dandan,” he huffs petulantly, “I wanted to talk to my wife.”
So many feelings are bottled between you both; shaken up to a fizzy, bubbling mess about to explode from one of you. You fear it may be you. You almost crave for it to be him, though. You hate him. You miss him. You love him.
And you’re lying through your teeth, still, because you don’t hate him at all.
“Being with you, I felt so lonely.”
“I never took it seriously when you said I should open up more. I thought that because we were married that was enough and you’d be content to just be there,” he purses his lips, “I was wrong. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” you reach across the table and pull one of his hands off his arm, lacing his fingers with yours, “I should’ve left a note. I’m sorry. You must’ve been worried sick.”
“I thought some bastards took you. Ran up and down the coast accusing everyone I could see of kidnapping,” he chuckles, although the ragged beat in his voice clues to you that the incident was not as lighthearted as he’s making it seem, “But when I found out the truth, I just thought you didn’t want to be found.”
“Because you wouldn’t want to be found, right?”
“Right.”
“But- !”
“You’re not me,” he squeezes your hand tight, you can feel the full warm softness of his palm without those gloves he pulls on for work, “You’re way different. You run away to prove points,” a bratty hey! follows, “You know yourself really well, and you’re good at being open. I’ve never been like that. I never knew how, it makes me uncomfortable. But you’re my,” he swallows, “You were my wife, I should’ve been comfortable being emotional with you. You shouldn’t have been in a position where me being home was the same as me being gone for days on end.”
“Thanks, Chil,” you smooth a thumb from his knuckle and along his index finger. You glance back up to his face. A sick nostalgia, or perhaps revived affections, rage up from your gut and overdriving your heartbeat. He’s more handsome than you remember.
He shrugs, studying your conjoined hands. As if it’s the last time he’ll see them like this.
It might be.
“What now?” you ask.
“Dunno,” he replies.
Is it pathetic if you ask to get back together? (YES)
“Want to meet my new coworkers?” he blurts, a vicious red overtaking his face.
This is a step. Where exactly, you’re completely in the dark, but it certainly is a step somewhere new.
“You’re seriously not with that elf, right?”
“Of course, not! What kind of person tries reuniting with their wife while bringing a new girlfriend along?”
“You really want that answer?”
“Oh, fuck you,” he snides, getting down from his chair and holding out a hand to help you down. This time, you take it, and leave his palm in yours as you both exit the bar, “By the way, my old boss is a king now.”
“What?” you gasp, spare hand flying down to smooth out your outfit, “Tell me we’re not going yet! I can look nicer than this!”
“You look pretty like this,” his eyes scrawl over your frame, “Not that it matters, right?”
“Why not?” you frown, “I should at least try to look my best in front of a king.”
“He’s just some guy,” he double-backs suddenly, shaking his head sternly, “I don’t even think he’s attracted to people, I think he’s into monsters. You shouldn’t waste your time.”
Oh!
You smile at your husband widely, “You’re jealous!”
“Not even a little. Why would I be?”
“Exactly,” you pull him into your side by your hand in his, “Why would you be?”
Is it pathetic for him to beg to renew your vows?
Yes.
Does he still plan to?
Yes.
“You have a wife?”
“Is that so surprising?” Chilchuck can’t help but preen at the shock, carding a hand through his hair like some pompous dork trying to act too cool for the attention, “Yeah, I’m a taken man.”
Clara, a blonde tallman he usually laughs at rather than with, pesters for more information, “What’s she like?”
Her curiosity makes his skin itch, so he shrugs and tries throwing out answers as fast as they come, “Kind of a space case, and clumsy. But it’s cute…” he scoffs when his party coos and ‘aww’s like he’s some kid talking about a crush rather than a grown man his wife, “She’s really caring, too, it made her a good mom,” Chilchuck clears his throat, if only to smother the sight of his broad grin with his hand, “She’s great.”
“We should meet her,” his black-haired cleric suggests suddenly, “She probably wants to know what group has her husband away from home so often. Hopefully she doesn’t hate us, huh?”
“No,” Chilchuck lowers his hand, still feeling a gentle giddy lap over him like sunlight at the thought of you, “She’s pretty understanding.”
~~~
+ and btw and fyi: i think it’d be cool if the dream was actually terrible and only appeared pleasant cuz laios saved chil, like how marcille remembered having a nice dream after being saves. like if the real dream was coming home from a long job to discover his family horribly murdered <3
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russellsppttemplates · 6 months
Text
We don't fit together (Lando Norris)
Your lifestyle is so different to Lando's that maybe everyone else is right
Note: english is not my first language. I'm not sure how I feel about this, it's like a love hate relationship with it to be completely honest... I hope it's still enjoyable to read! Update: there's a part 2 here !
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions reader's insecurities about herself and about her relationship with Lando, alcohol consumption
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
Lando facetimes and he's going to a club wherever he is
"Hello, baby!", Lando greeted with a bug smile when you picked up his video call.
"Hey love, congrats on your podium!", you smiled back, now able to congratulate him face to face even if through a screen, "Don't you look handsome, hm?", you bit your lip once he set the phone and clasped his bracelets on his wrist.
The outfit was simple but he made it look so good. He was wearing black jeans, a white t-shirt and a backwards black cap was covering his curls. Had he been right in front of you, you would have already laced your arms around his neck and littered little kisses along the tanned skin.
"Thank you, baby", he blushed slightly, "Max and Kelly are also going to the club where Martin is playing tonight", he smiled, "it's really good and it's supposed to have the craziest nights out in town, so we're going to check it out - I miss you loads, can't wait to go back home", he mused.
"Me too, but I'm glad you're having a good time out there! I'm not going to say I wish I was there because it doesn't look like my scene, but I can't wait to have you with me, love", you giggled.
"That's true, I don't think it would be very enjoyable for you", Lando agreed, "we're leaving in the morning, which will be night time for you, so I'll text you updates and then when I arrive we can have an early dinner in that restaurant you really like near my place and then you could spend the night. How does that sound?", he suggested.
"Sounds good to me", you smiled at the prospect. Time couldn't go by faster.
"I have to go, baby - Max and Kelly are already downstairs waiting for me! I love you and I can't wait to kiss your gorgeous face", he winked.
"Go enjoy yourself, Lan, you deserve it! Give my congratulations to Max and send Kelly a hug from me. I love you!", you blew him a kiss before he ended the call.
Work commitments and some family situations had kept you from going to the race weekend. It was a common thing to happen but it still left you missing Lando like crazy, counting down the hours until he was on your arms again.
You finished cooking your dinner, ate it and then headed to the living room, ready to unwind and start your bedtime routine, getting a selfie from Kelly with Max and Lando in it too, the club lights illuminating then enough to tell them apart.
When you woke up, like promised, Lando had sent you a text saying he had boarded the jet and everything was on schedule. Opening the text, you saw that a few hours before he had also sent you a video.
It was less than a minute, but you could see Martin and Lando at the DJ table, happily interacting with the crowd before mixing some music up and dancing along, "I love you, baby!", Lando said into the phone before he ended the video.
You did your morning workout, showered and while you were having breakfast, you scrolled through your social media, seeing some edits from the race and a couple of videos from the club Lando, amongst other drivers, partied in.
The first one was a different angle from the one you had been sent, someone on the dance floor recording it and sending it to a fan page.
They usually didn't say much other than stating facts about the video, where it was taken, who was in it and who had sent it. This one, however, seemed to spark up the conversation as a lot of people had opinions about it.
He just looks so good 🥵 I'd never be able to leave his side if I was with him!
He always has the best night out spots
He just looks so happy when he's doing it, it's great he has friends who support him in it outside of racing
Scrolling down, a gossip page post popped up. Unlike the other videos, this one was in a controlled environment and it seemed to be from someone on the VIP area. You could see Lando and Martin talking to a group of people before the girl flipped the camera, speaking into her phone as subtitles showed "I can't believe this, it's Lando Norris! Fp you think we should go up to him? I bet he's here alone as usual", the blonde girl said as she swept her hair over her shoulder. She looked stunning, hair curled to perfection and make-up done in such a complementing way it showed skills you knew you didn't have yourself, "I've seen Max and Kelly, and Carlos was just at the bar I think", another girl with short black hair said.
"You know what I mean, he's never here with what's her face", she giggled tipsily.
Dating Lando meant that you were exposed to these type of interactions from people online on a daily basis, more frequently whenever he posted you or you joined him for the race weekend. On the comments, some people alerted the page admin and the girl who sent the video about how offensive it was and how they didn't have the right to talk about you like that, but it didn't seem to do much as other people left their opinion.
He'd be so much better without her, did you see the article where someone at the club said he left with another girl? She's done for...
It wouldn't surprise me tbh, there's only so much it can work before you realise you don't have similar interests and things are not making you happy
Lando would be so good with someone who is in the public eye, can you imagine all the content we would get?
Shaking it off of your body, you closed the app and locked your phone, taking a deep breath as your mind started filling with all sorts of doubts.
At the start, noise from the media was easy to reason with, but lately it was all you could think about. Every week with every interaction Lando had with another woman, they would suggest he was in a relationship despite knowing you were dating eachother. You didn't understand why, but they had even taken the extra step of having someone comment on it and give their opinion on it, as if there was an opinion to give on who he dated and didn't date.
Getting up, your put some music on your headphones and started tidying the house. You couldn't sort your thoughts out, so might as well deal with the mess on your apartment.
"I missed you so much", Lando said once you opened the door, his arms instantly wrapping around your body and walking you backwards, closing the door with his foot, "hello, my love", he said, nipping a few kisses on your neck before he looked up, finally kissing your lips after having spent so long away from you.
"Hello, Lan", you cupped his face, kissing his lips again as his hands roamed along your waist and back, "I'm so glad you're back home", you smiled.
"Me too, especially when I'm greeted like this", he smirked, looking you up and down. In the last two years, you still hadn't gotten fully used to the way he would look at you.
His heart swelled with pride because you were his, all for him and no one else, "I love this colour on you", he kissed your exposed clavicle, "as much as I'd love to continue this, we have reservations to get to", he smiled before licking the spot he just kissed, "let's go, gorgeous", he encouraged, making you get your coat and bag and put on your shoes, ready to go.
.
Lando got VIP entrances to a fairly new club, and since Max was in town, too, you decided to join them on a night out. Despite the opinions everyone on the internet seemed to have, you did enjoy going out, just not every week or even every month. Shutting down your laptop after sending the last e-mail, you went to shower and start getting ready.
Making sure the towell was secure on your head and the robe was soaking up all the water remnants from your skin, you walked up to your wardrobe, running your fingers through the options you had for tonight. Settling in an outfit you felt both comfortable and beautiful in, you were quick to dry yourself and change, grabbing a simple black bag out of your closet and then heading to the bathroom for hair and make-up. You clipped your loose waves away from your face once they were dry while you applied some foundation to even out your skin tone, hiding the dark circles that came with the little sleep you'd gotten that week, bronzing, highlighting and contouring what needed, doing your brows and applying some mascara to your lashes. You weren't too fussed about makeup, choosing to stay on the simpler side of things, not bothering with the little moles and pimples that still showed through as you'd end up with your face resembling a pancake instead.
Checking if you were on time, you grabbed your watch and bracelets and clasped them to your wrist before clasping your necklace on your neck and putting simple hoop earrings, appreciating your final look in the mirror.
Not too much, not too little, but you didn't look like the girls your boyfriend was rumoured to be dating. The article came from a magazine where they had analysed everyone they thought would suit Lando and his lifestyle, and even though you tried yo ignore it, Lando was the first to come to your place and tell you, in person, that he had nothing to do with those girls and most of them he didn't even knew personally anyway, spending the rest of the night in your bed reminding how much he loved you and only you.
Lando was coming to pick you up soon, so you headed to the living room to wait for him. A knock on the door announced his presence, "I'm here to pick up the most beautiful woman in the whole wide world - my girlfriend", he charmed before taking a good look at you, "you're stunning, baby, breath taking", he gasped.
"C'mon, let's go", you urged, your cheeks blushing at the attention he was giving you, "Baby girl, a little twirl for me first", he smirked, as you did it, "we're both one good looking couple, aren't we?", he added, kissing your cheek as you played with the thin chain around his neck, "you look great, handsome, so great", you kissed his throat before closing the door behind you.
As you walked inside the club with Lando, who laced your hand in his as soon as he saw the crowded place, you took it all in.
It would be a lie to say that your senses hadn't been invaded all at once when you stepped into the VIP area of the club, different kinds of substances in the air and some perfume notes invading your nose, lights flashing your eyes as the loud music rang in your ears and drummed on your feet.
Lando carefully guided you through the people - the less crowded zone helping your movements -, always keeping you close as he looked for Max and Martin.
"Hey! You finally made it!", Max said as he greeted you, "Y/N, fancy sering you here! You look amazing as always", he complimented your black pants and emerald green one shoulder top outfit.
"Hi, I'm Martin, have we met before?", he asked after he pulled you for a half hug, "I don't think so, no, I'm Y/N", you smiled at his kindness and welcoming demeanour.
"You weren't joking when you said you were going to bring special company tonight", the dutch DJ nudged Lando with his elbow before fistbumping his hand.
"My special lady only goes out when the music is really good, so you should feel honoured, mate", Lando tsked, kissing the side of your head and smiling down at you. He was so happy you were there with him.
"The bar is over there, c'mon! Let's go and get something", Max suggested, leading the way with Martin right behind him as Lando's hands squeezed your waist again as he guided you to the bar, occasionally nodding to acquaintances you two bumped into.
Getting yourself a drink and Lando grabbing something non-alcoholic for him, "I'm driving us both home tonight, I don't want to do anything irresponsible", he reasoned as the four of you engaged in conversation about the set Lando and Martin would be doing. You had always been a kept to yourself type of person, not really letting people in until you knew for sure what their intentions were, but having Lando and Max there gave you enough ease to chat with Martin too while you waited for them to go up to the booth.
Granted this wasn't your usual choice of plans, you had been out enough times to know what it entailed and what to expect, a lot of people you didn't know coming up to greet your boyfriend, some seeming closer friendships to him that others.
"Are you okay, baby? We'll have to go up in a bit, do you want to stay here or go up there?", he questioned, "I need to go to the bathroom, I won't be long hopefully, but I can meet you up there when I come back - do you think that will be okay?", you wondered, "yes, of course! Just wave at me or Max if anyone gives you any trouble, beautiful", he kissed you, "I love you", he mumbled against your lips, squeezing your hips softly before Martin pulled on his arm.
On your way to the bathroom, you accidentally touched the railing on the stairs when you were set your cup down on the designated area, the liquid on it making your squirm a little as you held out your hand like you had touched poison. For all you knew, it could be something like that.
There were two girls waiting to use one of the stalls, prompting you to gently slot yourself in front of them, "sorry, but do you mind if go first just now? I just need to wash my hand and then I'll be back to the line", you asked politely as they nodded, the first one going to the stall that freed up and making room for you as the other girl stepped out. Her face was familiar as you took a glance in the mirror, and from the smile she gave you through the mirror, you assumed she probably recognised you too.
Washing your hands again when you came out of the stall, you walked to the bar and got yourself a bottle of water, noticing your boyfriend already pressing and tapping the buttons on the mixing table as everyone danced and many captured the moment on their phones while you waited. The booth looked tight and, truthfully, quite exposed, so you decided to stay where you had been previously, still able to enjoy yourself and dance while you watched Lando and Martin.
Max must've thought the same as he spotted you a few minutes later, twirling you around before he set his drink on the high table.
"Ruby!", Max yelled as the girl from the bathroom walked up to him and gave him a hug followed by another girl you assumed was her friend, introducing her to Max before turning to you.
"You're Y/N, right?", she asked, noticing your surprised expression, "sorry, I didn't mean to be so blunt - I'm Ruby, this is my friend Katie", she introduced, "we bumped into you in the bathroom, and it looked like you knew who I was", she clarified, still noticing apprehension from you, "I know Lando - we're acquaintances, I guess", she said.
"I'm so sorry, your face was familiar but I didn't know where from", you apoligised, "I kept going over in my head but I couldn't pinpoint where I knew you from", you gulped.
Up close and in the club environment, you were now sure of why her face was so familiar. She was one of the girls the gossip magazine page mentioned. She was gorgeous and from the way people greeted her, she seemed to attend many parties and nights out at that club.
"It's okay - Lando has told me about you, by the way", she smiled before her friend pitched in, "it's so nice to finally see you here, it's a good thing you came here to see him. I didn't think it would suit you, but it does look like you're having a good time", Katie offered before sipping from her drink.
"Yes, it's quite fun actually, Martin and Lando are a good duo I'd say", you smiled, pushing the backhanded compliment to the back of your mind for now.
"Do you want something to drink, Y/N? I can get it for you!", Max offered and you shook your head no, thanking him for his offer but politely declining as you saw him walk to the bar with Ruby.
"How has your night been, Y/N?", she tried to start up a conversation and appear put together even though it was clear she had drank over her limit, "I never see you here with Lando - he usually hangs out with us when he isn't pretending to be a world famous DJ", she giggled, "so are you enjoying it? I know it's not really your scene".
"It's not my usual, no, but I enjoy a night out every now and again", you remained polite, "He's really happy when he does it and he gets to relax a little and forget his troubles for a bit, it's a good thing".
"He's really funny, yes, and charming too", she hiccuped, "I'm sure people come here for a good night out anyway, but I just know that most of these people here", she pointed to the people dancing, "are here for him because they know he enjoys a good party and they do too - I guess they're hoping their similar interests will cross paths", she smiled.
She was really trying to get to you, and much to your disappointment in yourself, she was successfully doing it.
"That's how he is wired, you know? Parties after parties, living it up with all the luxury he has access to, and at such a young age, he has everything on his fingertips, anyone even! It's just a matter of him choosing what he really wants", she added, straightening herself against the table when Ruby walked back with Max.
"What were you two chatting about?", Ruby asked as she set the drinks on the table, Max doing the same with his.
"I was just telling Y/N how it usually is around here, but tonight they've upped their game because Lando is playing, look at him!", Katie pointed at your boyfriend before she started dancing around.
"He's really fun at these functions", Ruby offered, "looks like it is something he enjoys doing", she said in an earnest tone, and for a few seconds, you wanted to believe she wasn't digging at you like her friend was and was just stating a fact.
Lando had a big smile on his face. His skin was glowing both from his tan and the sheen of the sweat from how warm it was up there, occasionally holding Martin's hand when he hugged him from behind and rested his hand on his sternum. All troubles were put to a halt when he enjoyed his time off with friends doing things he loved.
Once the set was over and the speakers played what you assumed was some random playlist for the moment, Lando and Martin came back to join you at the table, "did you enjoy it, Y/N?", Martin asked.
"I did, it was very good!", you smiled, feeling Lando's hands on your waist before his mouth whispered on your ear, "Hi, baby" and kissed your neck.
"Did you stay here for the whole set?", he wondered, "yes, it looked a little cramped up in there so I stayed here with Max, then Ruby and Katie joined us for a bit", you nodded with your eyes as Katie seemed to notice your eyes on here, waving back at you and Lando.
"Oh, Ruby - she's nice, I met her girlfriend the last time I was here - so that's her friend?", he mused turning fully around to face you.
"Should be, we didn't really talk much", you shrugged your shoulders.
"Did you really enjoy it, Y/N? You can say no and we'll be out of here of you don't want to stay", Lando offered, "I myself am getting quite tired actually", he said as he rested his hand on top of his stomach.
"I did, you did really well up there, and you looked really handsome", you smirked, twirling a curly lock that fell on his forehead.
It didn't take long before people started leaving, the night already mostly done with after Lando danced with you for a bit, noticing you seemed to also have spent most of your battery and wete in deep need of going back home. Bidding goodbye to everyone, you and Lando made your way to his car as he drove you back to his apartment where you had planned to spend the night.
Taking your heels off and putting on your slippers, you waited for Lando to lock the door and join you in the living room, thumbs fiddling with eachother.
Noticing your behaviour, Lando knocked on the door and approached you gently, "You alright, baby? You've been quiet since before we left the club. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better? Is your tummy upset? Or is it your head", he listed the possible causes of your discomfort.
He was however missing the point. It seemed you both missed it until now. For you at least anyway, he still didn't notice it.
Better late than never.
"I'm not judging your choices, it's not my place and definitely not on this... but... do you think we work?", you quesioned, your lips trembling slightly as all emotions seemed to come back to the front. How different you were, how his interests weren't similar to yours, how his happiness was something you were getting in the way of.
"What do you mean if we work?", Lando asked, genuinely not understanding your question.
"We're so different, Lando. Your lifestyle has nothing similar to mine, and I'm not even talking about money - that's a pretty obvious one and something not most humans can do anyway -, I'm talking about being the soul of the party, always ready to go on to the next night out and plan everything surrounding it. I don't do nightlife like you do, I barely do it at all. And that's okay for me as it is okay for you with what you do", you clarified.
"What are you saying, Y/N?", he inquired, a new tone of defensiveness in his voice.
"I'm saying we don't fit together like that", you let the words out, your heart shattering as each syllable came out.
"Y/N, that doesn't mean anything", Lando began, "sure, there are different interests that we don't have in common and that we don't share, but that doesn't make it not work between us! Why would it?", he argued, "it sounds to me like you're calling our relationship out because I like to go out and you don't and I don't agree with it".
"Lando, it hurts, it's painful", you stated, tears falling from your eyes at your admission.
It caught him off guard and his brain shifted somewhere else. To the promise he made you and the promise he made himself. He would never make you hurt and he would never be the cause of your pain.
"Y/N, baby, we can talk about this better when we've gathered our thoughts", he tried even though any suggestion he could make would potentially increase your pain. And he couldn't bear to do that.
"No one would ever see you and see me and say that we were good together, it just took us longer to see what they have noticed so long ago - so much so that they think you deserve someone else", you murmured.
"But I don't need anyone else's opinion when I have you", he mused softly, wanting to take your hand in his but you still fiddled with your thumbs before wiping your cheeks.
"Y/N, I promise that whatever is going on in your head is not the truth - your mins is telling you awful lies. I love you so much and I don't think like that", he tried to reason, "That's not what we are".
"I want to go home", you gulped, "I'm going to get an Uber", you announced, looking at a broken Lando.
"Can I drive you there, please?", he asked, himself feeling like prolonging the argument would only lead to worse but needing to make sure you felt he wouldn't give up, "I'd feel better being in charge of the car taking you home than anyone else at this time", he reasoned.
"You won't ask me anything else? Can we do it in silence?", you asked. The words had a bitter taste on your mouth like they didn't belong there. Chatting with Lando was one of your favourite things in the world, hearing his voice and his giggles, those were the best sounds ever known to man.
"Okay, if that's how you want it", Lando assured, grabbing his keys while you put your shoes back on along with your coat.
The drive to your apartment was agonisingly silent. Lando wanted to ask you where this left your relationship, you wanted to ask him if what he said was true.
"We're here", Lando announced, stopping the car and getting out, waiting for you to get out and meet him by the driver's seat door, "I- Y/N, is this goodbye?", he worked himself up to ask, "because I don't want that, we can talk about his and sort it out, please, this is what we do, love", he pleaded.
"Can we talk about it another day? I can't think straight tonight, and I don't want to say things that will hurt you because of that", you suggested.
"Sure", Lando sighed, "whenever you're ready. I love you, Y/N", he looked into your eyes, refraining from kissing your forehead even though that was all he wanted to do.
"Thank you, for this and for bringing me home, Lan, I love you", you looked back into his eyes.
He was hurt, too, and the last three words you said seemed to have brought anger to the mix as well. There was a grey hue and the sparkle was lost despite the moon glistening.
"Have a good night, baby, I love you more than words can say, and I will fight for you and for us, even if I'm the only one in the battlefield, I'll fight for both of us", he assured.
Part 2
848 notes · View notes
zablife · 10 months
Note
🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ screeching in here now that my coffee has kicked in and I can type sentences again. Very excited that your requests are open again!
Please could I have something based around ‘Are you jealous?’ with Tommy?
Sorry I know you’ll get a million Tommy requests but I’m just a girl 🙈 I am not immune. Ideally the filthier the better 🤭 but just wherever the muse takes you babe! xxx
Thanks for the request, Alex! I've combined your ask for smut with another lovely anon's request for a Cillian character w/ breeding kink. I hope this is ok! (Slight warning for hints of dark, possessive Tommy, but not to worry bc it turns to fluff at the end.)
All Mine 🔞
Tommy x gf reader
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Tommy's nails dug into your forearm as he dragged you away from the party you were hosting. "Where are we going?" you whispered, stumbling slightly to keep pace with his strides. Taking one last glance over your shoulder, you flashed an apologetic smile to your guests, realizing they were as confused as you were.
Once out of earshot, Tommy's composure shattered, rage melting his icy blue eyes. "Why didn't you tell me you'd fucked my new business partner?" he seethed.
You shook free of his hold with an indignant look. "Jesus, Tommy! That was five years ago!" You rolled your eyes as he began pacing the long corridor. In his haste to leave the table, he'd forgotten his cigarette case and without the distraction, his agitation grew.
Throwing your hands up, you exclaimed, "Yes, I have a past! But I didn't think someone like you would hold that against me."
He stalked toward you, narrowing his eyes as he came close enough for you to smell the whisky on his breath. "But I do, especially when you spend half the fucking night whispering in his ear!"
You gathered your long skirt over your arm in preparation to leave, shaking your head at him in disbelief. Every conversation you'd had that evening was in promotion of Shelby Company Limited. Frankly, you were fed up with all the business talk and ready to scream at him for his ungrateful attitude. However something stirred inside when you glimpsed the tortured look in his eye. Your shoulders relaxed, backing down from the fight when you realized he was nothing more than a hurt little boy lashing out.
"Are you jealous?" you asked incredulously, an irrepressible giggle bubbling up from your chest at the idea of him pouting like a child.
"You're the one making a fool of yourself," he grumbled, not in the mood for teasing.
Caressing his face with your hand, you attempted to bring back the confident man you knew. In these moments he needed you to quiet his inner voice of inadequacy. "Where do you get these ridiculous notions and when will you give them up?" you scolded with a peck to his lips. You only intended a brief moment of affection before returning to your guests, but Tommy had other ideas.
Leaning down to hook a strong arm beneath your knees, he lifted you off the ground. Yelping in surprise, you threw your arms around his neck to brace yourself. You couldn't be sure, but you thought you detected a hint of a smirk tug at Tommy's lips as he carried you toward the staircase and away from the noise of the first floor.
Alone in the quiet of the bedroom, Tommy's intentions were clear. Hands roving your body, he hitched up your skirt, squeezing the flesh of your ass appreciatively. His body pressed into yours insistently, slamming your back against the vanity mirror with enough force to break it.
"Tommy, slow down," you begged, unable to keep up with his feverish kisses. However, his ministrations did not stop, his large hand encircling your throat possessively as the other dipped between your legs. He unexpectedly forced your underwear aside to push two fingers into your sopping heat.
"Is this for him or me?" he demanded in a low voice, pumping his digits into you the way he knew drove you wild. You could scarcely think as he worked you into a frenzy matching his own, but you knew he expected an answer.
"You...always you, Tom," you huffed out in uneven breaths, gripping his shoulder for support when he began biting and sucking near your collarbone. With that declaration Tommy abruptly stopped, staring into your eyes to determine the truth. Finding them glossy with unshed tears and feeling the flutter of your desire around his fingers, he was satisfied you were being honest with him. He rewarded you by hooking his fingers against the achingly delicious spot within you that set stars dancing behind your eyelids.
"So perfect," he praised, pressing his forehead to yours. "And loyal?"
"Yes," you whimpered as his thumb grazed your clit, sending sparks shooting through you.
"Then there's one more thing you need to do to prove it," he pronounced, withdrawing his hand and denying your pleasure so as to have your undivided attention. You whined at the sudden loss of stimulation, tears nearly spilling onto your flushed cheeks in protest.
The hand at your throat stroked your delicate skin gently as he fed you his soaked fingers. You sucked wantonly on your own juices while he nuzzled his nose against yours and whispered to you softly. "If you give me a child, there won't be any more doubts."
Your eyes went wide at his request, but he scarcely noticed, rubbing himself against your thigh to show how eager he was to begin. "Take off your dress," he commanded in a low voice.
"Now? We have guests," you reminded him, but he wouldn't hear any arguments.
A growl of frustration rumbled in his chest as he answered, "I don't give a fuck. Take it off now or I'll do it for you."
Apparently you didn't make your decision quickly enough because you heard the snag of fabric before catching the rapid motion of his hands out of the corner of your eye. Within moments the slit at your thigh was torn to your waist, exposing your lower half and sending shivers through your entire body.
With a harsh gulp, you removed the damaged garments as Tommy watched with lust filled eyes, stroking himself before you shamelessly. "That's better," he hummed in satisfaction, palming the globe of your breast. You nodded, biting your lip. You'd learned long ago you were powerless against Tommy's will, his desires becoming your own.
"Have to show that bastard who you belong to," he said through gritted teeth as he pushed you onto the mattress. You could only nod in agreement as he entered you swiftly, setting a brutal pace from the start. It was unlike anything you'd experienced before with Tommy rutting into you with reckless abandon. His hips slammed into yours with punishing force, fingers at your hips wrapped tightly enough to leave crescent shaped bruises.
Your cries soon echoed through the room and he did nothing to quiet you. In fact he spurred you on, demanding to hear how much you wanted his seed. You had no trouble complying, cries falling from your lips with each deep stroke. "Please, Tommy," you pleaded in a high pitched whine you barely recognized as your own, needing his comforting warmth within you instead of spurting across your chest or stomach.
The sight of you with half lidded eyes, begging for his cum was all Tommy needed to tumble over the edge. Quickly losing rhythm, he clutched your waist mumbling, "Going to fill you up." Suddenly his hips stuttered to a halt as he seated himself deep within you. You moaned at the intoxicating feeling of rope after rope of hot cum coating your insides, his release triggering your own. While you rubbed your clit to prolong the waves of pleasure, you heard Tommy moan at the way your cunt continued to milk him. "Such a good girl, taking every last drop," he praised.
He took a moment to admire you, watching your ample chest heaving and plump lips parted in ecstasy. He'd never felt so satisfied, but he soon collapsed upon you in contented exhaustion.
The enormity of what you'd just done came rushing toward you, but you were calmed by the weight of his body holding you down. Running your fingertips through the soft, shorn sides of his hair you mused, "Tommy, what is it you really want?" You could still feel the way his heart beat against his ribcage, transferring vibration through your body. It felt as though you could share anything with each other in this moment, while you were still joined as one.
He raised his face from the crook of your neck to place a tender kiss to your lips. "You," he stated simply. Running a hand down your body to rest over your stomach, he added, "Can you blame me? You're the most incredible woman I've ever met. Of course I want you to have my children."
You beamed at him, heart swelling with pride at his admission. He wasn't normally so effusive. Leaning in to kiss him, he withdrew from you and you let out a whimper at the aching emptiness. As sticky white rivulets of his spend ran down your inner thighs, Tommy scooped it up with his fingers, pushing it back inside you.
You sighed contentedly as he placed a kiss to your temple, aftershocks from your orgasm causing you to clench onto his fingers, drawing his cum further inside you. "Good girl, keep it in," he instructed, peppering your face with kisses as you grew sleepy.
However, one thought lingered in the back of your mind. "How could you have thought I wanted anyone else? You know I'm all yours," you declared, hoping to dispel any lingering worry he might have. As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt Tommy's cock stir against your thigh.
Removing his fingers from you, he replaced them with his cock and began slow, gentle thrusts against your opening until he was hard enough to bury himself into you once more. He groaned at the sight of your tightness split around him, looking as though you were made just for him. Leaning down to cradle your neck and shoulders under his arms, he held you close. Hot breath fanning over your ear, he murmured, "When I see your beautiful body swollen with my child, then I'll know you're all mine."
A needy cry escaped your throat as his cock dragged against your oversensitive walls, your nails clawing at his back to urge him back inside. "S'alright," he hushed, "I'm going to keep you full," he promised with a snap of his hips. You wrapped your legs around him, heels eagerly pressing into his back to accept everything he could give.
------------
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risuola · 4 months
Text
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▶ BOYFRIENDS — two is better than one.
contents: college+roommates!au, alcohol consumption, college party kind of situation, groping mentioned — wc. 845
a/n: you were voting in the poll and picked the stsg protecting the reader from the drunk so there we go! our boys making sure we're safe!
𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist
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“C’mon cutie, it’s jus’ a dance.”
You’re far from being a mind reader. Sometimes you struggle with getting the point of something someone is telling you straight on, but this time you were sure it wasn’t a dance the man wanted from you.
A thick stench of alcohol saturated the air whenever he was leaning towards you, rendering the oxygen useless because you’d rather suffocate than introduce that toxic waste into your lungs. You were trapped, between the counter in a small, dorm kitchen and a guy you recognized from a sport’s team popular in your college. He’s not the top dog, average at most, but famous nonetheless and apparently such condition turned his ears deaf to any sort of refusal. The small of your back burned in the place where he glued his hand and it wasn’t a pleasant type of burn.
“I’m not gonna dance with you, get away, creep,” you scoffed, frowning upon the stubborn behavior and pressing the open palm of your hand against his chest, trying to put your strength against his own. No luck there, he didn’t budge the slightest.
“Hard to get, huh? I like that,” he grinned and next thing you noticed was a hand on your butt, squeezing the flesh like an orange. You flinched at the feeling, digging your nails into his forearm, doing about as much damage as a little kitten. That’s why you didn’t like college parties. “You sure are a feisty one, aren’t you?”
“Get. Off.” A groan left your throat and your fist clenched to your side. A knee itched to meet his crotch, a drink in your hand begged to be spilled over his stupid face and wash off his stupid smile, maybe even refresh his stinky breath a little.
You thought about violence, your body tensed and muscles contracted, getting ready for a strike, but then, you heard a hum. Soft, melodic, like a cotton and silk, soothing your nerves and making you relax. The sound made you stop; it made the drunk stop as well and your position shifted.
“Does my beautiful mochi have a problem here?”
You could physically feel how Satoru removed the unwanted hand from your rear and the wince on the boy’s face in front of you told you his grip was much heavier than the tone of his voice suggested. Then, your friend wrapped his arms around your waist, effectively pulling you out of the toxic orbit; your back met his wide chest and his chin dropped to rest on your shoulder. His bright blue eyes sized the guy in front of you from above the dark shades he wore that night and you noticed him smiling. It was confident, it was judging and so very challenging. You could tell he wished to get down and dirty with the drunk.
“And you are—?”
“Her boyfriend. Back off.”
“Boyfriend, huh? Bullshit,” the boy scoffed, clearly unable to comprehend the danger he put himself in. He hiccupped drunkenly and then found Suguru in the crowd, pointing at him. “That bitch told my friend her boyfriend is that guy.”
Satoru hummed again, amused, and then chuckled vividly. You felt his embrace tightening protectively around you and his fluffy hair tickling the side of your face. As if summoned, Geto made his way towards you and soon he joined your other side.
“Suguru, this guy over there called our girlfriend a bitch and dared to lay a hand over her ass,” Gojo painted the picture with a sweetly threatening tone and even pouted a little for the added effect.
“Oh yeah?” Brunette mused, raising an eyebrow and you heard a soft crack of his bones when he tilted his head to one side and then the other, stretching his neck. Oh, how menacing. “It can’t be.”
You watched as confusion washed over the features in front of you. The guy was drunk, but it seemed as if the dots were finally connecting in his brain, as if the message was reaching and realization was sinking in — very likely the sound of Suguru’s cracking knuckles made the process much more quick and efficient.
And he crumbled.
The boy shrunk under the set of gazes and tensed atmosphere. Mumbling something incoherent, he backed off, grabbing a can of beer on his way as if pretending to not be bothered when very visibly he was.
You sighed.
An exhale of relief made you wilt a little inside the protective embrace of Satoru’s arms. You felt your body relaxing.
“Thank you. He was damn persistent,” you addressed your friends, smoothing over the hands snaked around your waist and looking up at Suguru.
“Always,” brunette smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, while Satoru nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. Then he bit you, of course he did, but this time you let it slip.
“I’d be persistent too if I saw those tits unattended,” the snow-white mumbled, and Geto immediately nagged him, causing the dramatic roll of blue eyes.
You, on the other hand, laughed.
Those idiots.
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jsluvtzu · 1 year
Text
late nights
g!p minatozaki sana x fem!reader
summary: you get a taste of her version of an after-party
cw: smut!!! really nasty smut!!!!!, somnophilia, breeding kink, honestly no plot, men dni
wc: 2k
a/n: wrote this while listening to muse by pnd anddd lemme tell yall… this fic is so muse coded
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you splashed your face with water one last time, pat drying it with a towel.
it was 11:24 pm on a friday night, and you decided to have a self-care night while your girlfriend drank her life away at a work party.
the song you had playing on the bluetooth speaker paused and got replaced with a now blaring ringtone.
you disconnected your phone from the speaker and answered it to hear the one voice you’ve missed all day.
“y/nnnn, my favorite girl everrr, hiiii”, sana’s slurred words and giggly tone filled the ear you held to your phone.
you chuckled at your girlfriend’s cute greeting, wondering how many shots of soju she’s had already.
“hii cutie, you having fun?”
“mmm i guess.. nayeon unnie keeps crying and telling me how pretty i am.”
you hummed and walked into your shared bedroom, switching the call to speakerphone and placing your phone on the bed.
“what’ve you been up to without me?”
“i just finished getting ready for bed, that’s all.”, you missed being able to have some time to yourself, but you missed your girlfriend more.
“yeah? what else did you do?”
you heard shuffling noises and small grunts over the phone, but thought nothing of it as you took your sleep shorts off, sliding into bed with nothing on other than sana’s oversized tee.
“hmm, i cleaned a little, took a nice, hot shower, did a face mask, and-“
sana interrupted your rambling with louder groans and you finally realized what she was doing.
“mhm, keep talking for me baby.”
your cheeks burned up immediately at the thought of sana touching herself to the sound of your voice.
“sana.. aren’t there people around you right now?”
“i’m in a stall love. don’t worry about me, ‘just wanna hear your pretty voice.”
“why don’t you just come home and let me help you? it’ll feel so much better, i promise.”, your mind getting filled with dirtier thoughts by the minute.
“fuck, i can’t baby, not yet. jeongie wants us to play some dumb drinking game.”
you groaned in annoyance and pulled the comforter higher up your body.
“i know, ‘m sorry baby, i’ll be home in an hour or two, okay?”
“mhm, whatever..”, you knew that was a lie. every time sana went out with her coworkers, it would always be an all night thing.
unfortunately, sana got you all needy for her from just one phone call, but she wasn’t there to help you relieve your urges.
you turned to lay on your side and rubbed your thighs together in an attempt to soothe the throbbing pain between your legs.
“shit, i gotta go y/n, just wait for me. i’ll be home soon and make you feel better, yeah?”
reluctantly, you agreed and hung up the phone, placing it on your nightstand and turning on a random show on the tv, putting the volume on low.
the dim light from the living room was the only source of light that shined through your open door, the warm ambience calming you into a state of drowsiness.
you fought with yourself to keep your eyes open in hopes that sana would actually keep her promise and come home at a reasonable time.
that fight ended rather quickly.
several hours had passed when sana finally came home, extremely drunk and horny.
she stumbled her way through the hallways, bumping into anything and everything in sight.
when she got to the doorway of your shared room, she stopped and held the door frame, stabling herself.
she stood there, staring and observing your peacefully sleeping figure.
you were laying stomach faced down and had one leg hanging out of the blanket, ass fully on display for her.
sana pushed herself off the wall and carefully approached the bed, trying her best not to make any noise.
not that it would wake you up anyways, you were always a pretty heavy sleeper.
as she made her way over to you, she kept her eyes locked on your visibly wet pussy, simultaneously slipping out of her leather jacket.
she got close enough to brush her fingers over your ankle all the way up to your waist, and up again to your face, softly caressing your cheek with the side of her finger.
your messy hair covering half your face. your soft, deep breathing and curved figure. you sobered sana up better than a good night’s sleep could.
she had a moment of clarity. never having thoughts any clearer than right now.
she needed to fuck you. just like this.
sana reached her free hand down her crotch to unzip her jeans, fishing her own cock out in hand.
it wasn’t enough to just stand there and stroke herself to the mere sight of you, she needed to use you.
she stood up straight and lifted one leg up and over the bed, clumsily straddling herself over your legs on her knees.
her skinny jeans were limiting her movement, so she pulled them and her boxers further down her thighs, allowing them to pool at her knees.
sana’s cock was hurting at this point, just eager to have your tight walls wrapped around her.
she ran her tip along your puffy folds, collecting your previous arousal on it and mixing it with her leaking precum.
soft moans escaped her lips when she accidentally dipped herself inside you, throwing her head back and biting her lip, relishing the moment.
“fuck y/n, you’ve just been here all wet and ready for me, huh? poor baby must’ve been so tired, she couldn’t even stay up a few more hours.”, sana whispered.
she was mumbling the filthiest things and having a whole conversation with herself.
“i know this is wrong love, i shouldn’t be this hard when i see you laid out like this. lookin’ all pretty for me while you’re sleeping.”
sana slid your shirt up your back as far as she could without lifting your body, losing her grip on reality when she saw the way your back was slightly arched.
“arching for me even in your sleep? fuck baby, you want this. yeah, you were waiting for this. just waiting for me to take advantage of you when you can’t tell me yourself.”
sana rubbed her hands over your ass, gently massaging your flesh.
“ ‘this why you wanted me to come home so bad? so i could fuck you out of your dreams? wake you up with my dick so fucking deep inside your pussy? huh? my pretty girl..”
you let out a small, short grunt, stretching and adjusting your position, still fully asleep.
sana paused her movements in fear that she woke you up before her fun started, but she smiled when she realized you actually had no clue what was going on, subconsciously angling yourself at an even better position for her.
“look at that.. poor needy little thing just begging to be fucked even when she’s unconscious. how cute..”
she tapped her cock up against your clit a couple times before she ran through your slit down to your entrance, inching herself inside.
dragging out her slow thrust, she made sure to feel every single bit of you, taking in how your pussy stretched around her thick, long cock.
she let out a low groan when she hit your cervix, the whole length of her cock disappeared from view.
“shit.. y/n. you take me so fucking well. god, look at you baby.”
she pulled out of you at the same leisurely pace with no struggle, given how wet you already were.
sana lifted up her t-shirt with her left hand, bunching it up just above her breasts, her abs flexing with every breath she took.
her right hand stayed on the small of your back, holding you in place while she teased herself inside of you, thrusting in and out of you painfully slow.
“you feel so good like this, y/n. fuck, you were right. i should’ve just- fuck- came home and let you help me.”
her pace was getting sloppier, words struggling to become coherent.
“still not awake yet, love? better be dreaming of me if you’re sleeping this good.”
sana was closer to cumming than she thought, her neediness getting the best of her.
she leaned over your figure, hands landing on either side of you, lowering herself to fuck you at an insane pace.
“ ‘gna put a fucking baby in this pretty little pussy.”
you heard her voice right in your ear, slightly stirring out of your sleep.
sana moved her hips in an uncoordinated and messy rhythm, her drunkenness still apparent.
her thrusts were heavy, the whole bed shaking when she started fucking into you roughly.
you were almost fully awake now, feeling how full of your girlfriend’s cock you were, moaning lightly at the way sana pushed up against your sweet spot.
“s- sana..”
“aww, is my baby finally up? change your mind?”
sana stopped and waited for your approval, or any sign that you were genuinely uncomfortable.
“no, please. keep going..”
she leaned down to kiss your cheek, moving down to your neck, the smell of alcohol on her breath pungent.
“i knew you wanted it, baby. such a pretty fucking slut for me. you’d let me use you anytime, wouldn’t you?”
your breathy moans and whines encouraged sana to fuck you even faster than before, her growing urge to cum inside you being the only thing on her mind.
sana straightened herself back up and grabbed your hips, pulling you closer to her so that you were supported on your knees, face still down on your pillow.
her bruising grip stayed on both sides of your waist, resuming her animalistic speed.
you clutched onto the sheets below you, screaming out in pleasure into your silk pillow.
sana hated that your moans were muffled, she needed to hear every pretty sound you made.
her right hand left your side and made its way up to your hair, grabbing a fistful of your strands, yanking forcefully until you were flush up against her.
you yelped at her roughness, moaning at the way it turned you on twice as much.
“fuck, sana. just like that, fuck- please don’t fucking stop.”
“yeah? you like it when i fuck you like the toy you are? hm? ‘love it when i use you like a fucking fleshlight. dumb slut can’t even think right when i’m fuckin’ her this good.”
you moaned uncontrollably at sana’s words, your mind going blurrier and blurrier.
both you and sana’s moans were in sync, a perfect harmony.
“shit- i’m so fucking close y/n. ‘gna fucking cum inside you.”
“fuck, please, yes, please, i can take it, ‘just fucking get me pregnant.”
you didn’t even realize what you said, too fucked out to think rationally.
sana was basically growling in your ear, holding you tightly against her with her arms wrapped around your waist.
she let her grip on you go, flipping you over and pushing you down on your back, thrusting into you inhumanly fast.
tears rolled out the corners of your eyes, the pleasure overwhelming you.
sana’s hands wrapped around your throat, her eyes staring deeply into yours and her mouth slightly open, letting out short groans and curses.
“fuck fuck fuck, ‘m gonna cum, oh fuck-“
sana slammed her hips down, stilling her movements and moaning every time her cum pulsed out of her cock.
you felt her warm liquid filling you up, whining at the way her dick twitched inside you.
her hands loosened from your neck, her body crashing down onto yours as she tried to catch her breath.
she didn’t pull out yet, her dick too sensitive to move.
you reached your hands up to her hair, raking your fingers through her tangles, stroking her head gently.
the sleepiness was sneaking its way back to you, your eyes fluttering closed.
after a couple minutes of sana laying on top of you, she pulled out and looked up at you, kissing her way down your body.
she reached your sticky, cum-filled core, hovering over it with hungry eyes.
“let me clean you up, baby.”
you didn’t even care that sana stayed out too late anymore, she definitely made up for it.
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juiles · 1 year
Text
We’re always with you.
Requested: yes.
Summary: you have autism and hide it from the team and your girlfriends until one unfortunate party incident.
Pairing: wandanat x autistic!reader
Warnings: overstimulation and a small panic attack
Tags: hurt/comfort
Masterlist here.
Taglist here.
Request form here.
A/N: sorry it took so long for me to respond to this request but I really hope you enjoy!! If you want something written message me or send me an ask!!
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“Come on detka. It won’t be that bad.” Nat muttered into your ear as she held you from behind as you stared at your form in the mirror, her arms wrapped around your waist gently. “It’ll be a couple of hours then we can come up here and cuddle okay?”
You hummed looking up, meeting her eyes through the mirror. At the moment, all you wanted was to rip away from Natasha, strip down, put on some safe comfy clothes and burrow into your special duvet however you nodded, putting a small smile on your face. “Okay Natty…”
She released your waist, one hand dragging down to capture your hand gently and tug you away from the mirror. You pulled your hand back, a normal motion for you. The girls didn’t know why but sometimes being touched made your skin crawl however they never questioned it much. You fidgeted with your top as you followed your girlfriend out to meet up with Wanda.
“You two finally ready?” She mused turning around to look at the two of you. Her face turned from a smirk to a loving smile. “You two look amazing…”
“You look great too detka.” Nat said placing a soft kiss on Wanda’s cheek before the two of them turned to face you, your hands fidgeting with your shirt again. Each of them placed a chaste kiss on your cheeks before the three of you made your way down to the party.
The music was loud as Natasha pushed the door open, revealing a throng of people dancing around, milling around the bar and sprawled out on the multiple couches chatting. Going in there seemed like the worst idea however, you had gone this long without anyone finding out as you managed to avoid any parties that Tony had thrown. Your brain instantly started to scream however you put your mask on and followed the two in front of you to the bar where they both ordered a drink before turning to you.
“What do you want malysh?” Wanda asked placing her hand on the small of your back, bringing you back to the present. Your eyes glanced over to Natasha who had concern swimming in her green eyes. “Do you want me or Natty to order for you?” She mumbled into your ear. You nodded softly, one hand going up to fidget with your necklace.
After ordering your drink and receiving the three of them, the three of you made your way over to the couches where all your friends were sitting.
You sat silently between the two girls as they all chatted. Your body stopping you from talking, earning you a few glances from your concerned friends, glances you brushed off with a small excuse of being tired.
After a couple of hours, your mask had started to slip and your could feel overstimulation take over. Your hair being in your face was causing you to constantly push it behind your ears. The clothes you were wearing were too tight, the shoes pinching your toes, your makeup felt like it was burning your skin. The music suddenly felt like the sound of nails on a chalkboard. the throbbing lights causing a migraine to start forming behind your eyes.
You started to feel your fuse grow shorter and unfortunately it was Natasha that received your final snap.
“Oh my god Natasha. Just fuck off!!” You screamed, your whole body freezing as soon as you realized what happened. Natasha turned to you with wide eyes, confusion running over her face. “Detka…?”
Your head whipped around to face a mad Wanda. “Y/N! Natasha did nothing wrong! What is wrong with you?! You’ve been nothing but stand off ish all night! She was checking to see if you were okay!” You could feel electricity running through your veins so you stood and bolted out of the party, ignoring all the people trying to bring you back with tears now streaming down your face.
You pushed the door to the staircase open and bolted up to the living floor where you flung your old bedroom door open and closed it behind you. After some digging through your drawers, you found some old safe clothes and peeled the fancy clothes off pulling on the cotton material. You flicked the small light off and burrowed into your weighted blanket after whispering for Friday to sound proof your room and unplugging all the electronics. It couldn’t have been more than 5 minutes before you heard a soft knock on your door and you let out a soft whimper.
The sound shattering the hearts of the two women outside your door. Natasha pulled Wanda a little farther from your door. “Autism.” She muttered causing the witch to look at her in confusion. “She’s got all the signs. I don’t know how we’ve never noticed it before. It explains why she exploded.” Wanda’s heart shattered again taking a glance at your door.
“I snapped at her… what do we do?” She asked softly looking back at the assassin who wiped the tears off the brunettes cheeks.
“We put on some cotton clothes, grab her little stuffed animal and her other comfort items and go check on her. She may not want us to touch her and that’s okay but she needs to know we’re here to support her okay?” The redhead said with a soft smile at the witch before the two rushed off to their room.
Your heart felt shattered as your brain played Wanda’s little rant at you over and over again. You had messed up and now she hated you. You knew eventually your autism would ruin it for you. It always did. It’s the reason your parents gave you up and you never found a forever home, dealing with the shit side of the foster system. You hid it from the team over the last 3 years, the fear of being a burden to strong to tell them.
You were once again snapped out of your thoughts with a soft knock on your door. You didn’t respond but the door opened anyways letting in some light causing you to whimper, pulling the cover over your head blocking it out. You heard two sets of footsteps and the door closing before pulling your head out of your blanket to see a sheepish Wanda and a concerned looking Natasha holding all your comfort items.
“Im so sorry detka… i shouldn’t have snapped at you…” She muttered placing your bear in your arms before taking a step back, your hand instantly reaching out towards her and your other girlfriend making grabby hands. “Do you want us to hold you malyshka? It won’t be too much?”
You shook your head. “Pressure…” Your voice came out shaky and almost silent. Both girls climbed into bed with you, you settling your head on Wanda’s chest, Natasha spooning you from behind.
It took around 40 minutes for you to finally feel okay to talk. “Im sorry… I-I-I… I didn’t mean to be a burden… I tried so hard to be normal… but I can’t…”
“And you don’t have to love. You are NOT a burden and anyone who ever called you that is wrong. You are you and that is beautiful.” Natasha muttered pressing soft kisses to your head.
“We love who you are no matter what you think. Your autism doesn’t change that detka. Being “normal” isn’t real sweetheart. Your differences are what makes you exactly what you need to be. Understand me?” Wanda said softly into your hair.
You sniffled and nodded softly in her shirt. Both women pressing kisses into your hair is what you fell asleep to that night.
The next morning, you woke up buried into your two girlfriends who were talking quietly. “Morning sleepyhead…” Wanda said looking down at you, you just tucking into her neck again with a soft whine. “How are you feeling?”
“Better but still tired…” You murmured. “I’m sorry again… i should have been honest with you but… i don’t want to lose you…”
“None of that. We aren’t going anywhere baby. Nothing will change that. Understand?” You nodded into the witches neck receiving soft kisses. “I can’t imagine how bad it was last night but you never have to go to one of those parties again okay?”
“I can go just not for that long… I have to learn my limits…” You said glancing up at Natasha who smiled softly.
“We will help you with that baby.” She said tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Because we’re always with you.”
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ravstars · 28 days
Text
Bad date (ᗒ⩊ᗕ)
⌇Wanderer/ Scaramouche x Reader.ᐟ
જ⁀➴Smut: Your usually stoic and ignorant college roommate seems abnormaly engrossed in the date you had planned with a mutual friend, insisting on giving you advice on how to dress, etc. When you come back that same evening, all pouty and disappointed, telling him about how bad it had went, he can't help but show you what you're missing out on with him.
a/n: Careful, this is smut! If you do decide to read it, i hope you enjoy! This is AFAB and Scara does refer to the reader as a good girl. I am still kind of figuring this whole layout thing out as I go so I might change some stuff up sometimes. ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
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Scaramouche was very annoyed.
As if you weren't insuffrable enough, having a date with some imbecile, who you both knew from some party you forced him to go a few months back, made you even more intolerable than before. Why would you go out on a date with some ugly idiot anyway? He huffs, deciding to check in on your pathetic state of getting ready for an immature frat boy.
You were sitting down on the floor infront of your dresser, messily looking through every dress you had. Scara doesn't hesitate to put his hand on your head, making you flinch away and complain about ruining your hair.
''I don't understand what your issue is, just pick a random dress, why are you being so peculiar about this? It's quite frankly pitiful." He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as you don't even look at him once.
"The white one or this navy one?" You hold two options up, one navy denim dress and one classy white dress with intracate details. He looks at both and decides to indulge himself for this once. It's not like he gets to take you out anyway, so he might as well make you work for his opinion.
''Try both on.'' He simply states, his expression unreadable. You hesitate but agree nonetheless. Getting up with an exasperated sigh and kicking him out until you try the first dress on. You decide to indulge him and show him the first dress — the navy one. You step out of your room, spinning for your roommate, waiting for a reaction.
“Well?”
“It kinda makes you look weird.” He says, suppressing a smirk. You looked ravishing in his truthful opinion, yet he would never admit that.
You huff, wordlessly turning back into your room and trying the other dress on. A pretty basic white dress, fitting for any occasion.
Stepping out once more you’re greeted with complete silence. You spin suspiciously, brows furrowed
“Wear the other one.” He simply says before turning on his feet and leaving you be.
Did this one look that bad? If only it did, Scaramouche thought.
Due to the uncertainty he had left behind, you do decide to wear the navy dress, getting ready as usual. Time had finally come and you couldn’t wait to meet your date, you couldn’t be blamed for being so excited, could you? You walk out that door and leave to the restaurant, Scaramouche unenthusiastic in his goodbyes, the only thing him having said to you being a mumble of ‘…you better stay safe… I don’t want to be responsible for anything later’.
Apropos later… well, it wasn’t an ideal date.
“Look, I arrived there and, first of, he was 10 minutes late. It’s not like that’s a big deal in itself but considering how he didn’t have any manners, it just adds to everything. He kept asking invasive questions and even asked me if I was interested in sleeping with him 30 minutes in. Who does that?” You groan, taking another sip of your energy drink, now a few hours later and at home again, in a big T-shirt as you vented to Scaramouche, who hadn’t said a word the entire time.
“It was horrible, Scara. Why do all the men interested in me have to be such douchebags?”
“Hm,” He mused, the corners of his lips twitching upwards, “Maybe because you’re the one choosing those idiots.” He was a selfish man, he knew that, especially when he felt great gratification when he found out your date had gone terribly. He only offered an energy drink in consolation and an ear, though, he was just an actor like that.
“Oh, and where are those non-douchebags I’m supposedly not choosing then?” You sigh, putting the drink down
“Tch. Dumbass, right here.”
“Huh?”
You turn to him, seeing him with a determined look, his eyes seeking out yours.
“You heard me.” He simply says, as if challenging you to make sense of what he’s telling you.
“Stop saying things like that, Scara…” you grumble, looking down.
“And what if I don’t, hm?”
You feel both of his arms encasing your body, having semi-crawled on top of you. You look up and your noses almost touch as you do. He looks different to you from this angle and you see the faint blush on his cheeks. You look into his eyes and he meets yours the same way. It’s as if he’s asking for permission as he bumps his nose against yours, your lips gaping in silent consent. His eyes flicker down to your lips before he closes them and finally leans in.
His lips press softly against yours, testing the waters with how far you’re willing to take it tonight. As you make no move to pull away he lets his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, asking for permission to enter your mouth.
His tongue curled around yours in a passionate dance of growing arousal. His hands have found their way to your waist, his nails softly digging into the soft skin of your sides.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.” He purrs out, breaking the kiss to look at your flushed expression
“Watching you go out with these weird, undeserving dimwits…” He kisses along your jaw before trailing gently down your neck. You can’t help the sound at the back of your throat when he sucks particularly hard at one spot on your neck. He chuckles under his breath before continuing his work on you. His hands trail down to your thighs and squeeze gently, parting them slowly settling in between
“Are you sure about this, Scara?” You ask, looking up at him from underneath. His lips are shiny, as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, tasting your saliva on them, so sweet, he thinks to himself.
“Are you sure about this, princess?” He answers with a question back, eyeing your expression with smug curiosity, making you gulp. You have never been this close to him before, what did you even feel for him in the first place? All you knew was you wanted him and you craved his touch deeply.
“I am, I want this.” You reassure shyly, earning a light chuckle from the man above you.
He responds by pressing his lips against yours again, this time more powerful, grinding up against you slowly. He hums at your reciprocation, your hands flat against his chest.
“Mm, may I?” He mumbles into your mouth, hands itching up to play with the hem of your oversized T-shirt. You hum, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer. He dares to slip his hand under your shirt for the first time, losing his mind at the feel of your skin. You were always perfect to him, there was no doubt, but right now - this has to be his favorite way of seeing you. He feels you up, hands roaming your hips, rubbing his thumb over the fabric of your underwear on your hip.
“So perfect… haah…” He pulls away with a gasp, his free hand on your jaw “You’re so perfect.”
You can’t comprehend what’s happening, the words coming out of his mouth. He hooks his two fingers under the fabric, startling you. He waits for you to adjust before tugging the fabric down your thighs.
“I can’t wait anymore.” He admits and you nod, closing your eyes. “No, no, look at me, open those eyes, keep your pretty eyes on me.”
Pushing up your shirt he feasts upon your anatomy, kissing and tasting your warm and flushed skin. He groans, growing needy at your gasps and moans.
His fingers find your cunt, gently rubbing your clit, as he relishes in the noises you make, squirming against him.
“I can feel you getting wetter and wetter, hm?” He’s breathless, trying to appear calm and collected, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.
“It’s unfair…” you start, making him stutter in his movements “You have to take your clothes off too.” He chuckles at your complaint, taking his hands off you momentarily to pull his shirt off. Your hands find his bare skin, smoothing over him, over anything you could see - beauty marks, scars, anything and he swears he could die, drowning in your touch, in your attention, in your love.
You begin to feel your core aching, longing for something of him, a fragment, a piece, anything you could get.
“Please,” you urge and he immediately knows what you want. So he enters one finger into you and opens you up, preparing you gently. Your eyes flutter shut in response, squeezing closed.
His eyes are trained on you, watching every reaction and every expression you made. He leans down to kiss the spot under your ear, feeling you shudder against him.
“Can I put in another one?” He asks, feeling that you were ready for it. He doesn’t hesitate when you nod, groaning as he feels you around his fingers.He grows impatient soon, pulling his fingers out of you just as you were about to cum, making you whine at the loss of contact.
“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, working on unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down to his knees. Your eyes fixate on him, straining painfully.
“Are you okay?” He makes sure one last time, as he tugs down his boxers and you can barely nod, not trusting your voice.
“Ah, shit,” he lubes his cock up with your juices, grinding up and down your folds for as long as he can take.
“Put it in, please,” You force out, hands reaching out for his own. As he intertwines your hands he pushes his tip in, both of you panting in pleasure and maybe overwhelming emotions. He bottoms out quickly, leaning down to be close to you, yearning for more and more and more of you.
Whimpering, he starts to set a pace fitting both of you. He’s never felt so vulnerable before. Being so intimate with you, of all people, it made his heart ache. He liked you - No, he loved you, but he could only express that through his actions right now. He starts to go faster, hitting that spot in you making you roll your eyes.
“Oh, good girl, such a good girl- ah,” he kissed you desperately, the pleasure burning in his veins. He felt so good, it was all he could think about. The feeling of you, hot and a mess under him, was pushing him further and further to the peak of pleasure already.
“I’m close,” he pants, “are you close?”
“Mhm, I’m so close…” you hold onto him tighter, feeling each other.
His hold on you suddenly tightens before his hips stutter against yours, burying himself to the hilt as the pleasure takes over both of you, your orgasm hitting you right where you needed.
“Fuck,” he heaves, eyes searching yours, “are you okay?”
“Ye- hahh, yeah, are you?” your pupils dilate, your body shaking
“Yes, yes, I’m…” he trails off, slumping against you. Mind too dazed for anything else, you close your eyes, letting the exhaustion catch up to you.
You wake up the next day that Saturday, surprisingly in your bed, in fresh clothes and unsurprisingly sore. You sit up in bed, recalling the previous night when you hear a knock on your door.
“Yeah?”
“I made breakfast, get up, sleepyhead.” Scaramouche opens the door, and his eyes soften seeing you in bed
“You good?”
“I’m sore, you dumbass.” You groan with a smile
“You weren’t complaining yesterday.” He scoffs, walking into your room and pulling you up, helping you
“Don’t be so dramatic, my god.” you both laugh, and you hit his shoulder, making him scowl playfully.
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 months
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Aaaawwww Jason was so soft and tentative with reader 😭it’s so nice to see big grump Jason Todd being all sweet and shy about it
Another party of the century, Alfred," Bruce sighed, adjusting his cufflinks, "Are the children ready?"
"The ones attending, certainly, sir," Alfred said.
"Right," Bruce said nodding, remembering belatedly that Cass was not 'public ready' and that you hated these things. So it made sense for you to stay with Cass. That way you both had company. "The girls-"
"And Master Jason," Alfred added, giving Bruce a meaningful look.
"Why?"
"The heart wants what it wants, Master Bruce," Alfred said simply. "But he did say he had paperwork to catch up on."
"He's not even trying."
"He did make a good show of it, grumbling and all," Alfred said. "If it weren't for him watching Miss Y/N so intently I might have believed him." The butler half smiled. "Not to worry. Miss Y/N has a selection of movies to introduce miss Cassandra to and I believe she's going to do her level best to replicate a proper girls night, even if most of the girls are missing."
"Cute," Bruce chuckled. "Please don't let them-"
"I'll prepare the popcorn. And all the facemasks are, I believe store bought. No potions are going to be "DIY'D" in my kitchen EVER again," the butler huffed. "But I will say I prefer that to holes in the dry wall and someone needing stitches."
"Very true," Bruce snorted. He paused straightening himself up and let Alfred finish fussing with him, "You're sure it won't cause trouble? I can still tell Jason-"
"Master Bruce," Alfred chuckled, "it's unlikely he'd behave in anyway unbecoming. And what's more, if we were to try, if Miss Y/N didn't force him to stop through sheer panic alone, Miss Cassandra would compel him by force. There's next to no danger of anything other than some stammering and Jason making a fool of himself. It's good for him. It'll remind him he's still human. And maybe," the butler mused reasonably, " give Miss Y/N a chance to stop being a wall flower."
"She's comfortable there," Bruce reminded.
"Yes, well. Comfortable doesn't always mean happy, does it?"
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