#I’m really shit at IDs sorry for that
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dumbasswithapen · 1 year ago
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Gods above I am so fucking stupid (but how could I resist) Based on this tweet. Unfortunately I could not extract the mandolin
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[ID: a tweet by @neitherabaron on twitter replying to a reply on another post by Jessica Law. Her tweet reads “Stop taking my lyrics and making them weird!” The tweet in response, by Kofi, reads “my rewrite of trial by song: I’m not a man/i don’t have hands/thought I could speak (followed by 3 mins of dead silence)” end ID]
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tardis-technician · 1 year ago
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I just listened to my first eighth doctor audio and it was chimes of midnight and ohhhhhhh my god
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causeimasinger · 1 month ago
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i love makeup and i love watching videos of people putting makeup on and then being annoyed when it doesn’t work for me bc my hands are too shaky it’s a whole thing but i have seen an uptake in NOSE contouring. our cheeks and foreheads and jawline weren’t enough??? now we have to give ourselves a daily nose job too??? hashtag i only wear concealer under my eyes and blush and contour my jaw and do a little swipe of highlighter and feel like im Full Face Of Makeup like yall are too wild for me
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sbcdh · 1 month ago
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“Oh gosh the fire. Yes it was truly a tragedy. You know, HECA79 was the prototype for the new regulation model. Well, haha, new for the time. It was the seventies after all. It really is fascinating. She was the first one we put in the class N tanks. Fascinating technology for the time, clever as the dickens. You see, the insides of the tank were to be lined with a thin layer of magnetically laminated gold calcite particles that formed a reflective lattice under electrical stimulation. A gold plated one-way mirror for brainwaves! I’m sure you understand, it was the best we could do for 1983-”
“So you subscribe to the, uh, equipment malfunction theory?”
“Huh? Oh! Oh. Terribly sorry. Equipment malfunction? As I recall, it functioned quite well.”
“So you believe the fire was caused by something else?”
“The fire? Oh. Well, I’m not quite sure. I don’t know the exact specifications, but if I recall correctly, there were all sorts of firebreaks and engineers and junior-engineers stationed all around –all helmeted, mind you– to make sure that sort of thing never happened.”
“And yet.”
“And yet. Indeed…Well, between you and me, I think It was one of the junior engineers.”
“Is that so?”
“Oh yes. We were a bit of a maverick bunch back then. Reagan gave us all that research money, but, well, its always a bit different when the wheels hit the pavement haha. Oh. Oh. I hope I haven’t gotten anyone in trouble. They were nice lads all. Well, some of them were Germans, but nice lads.”
“We are more interested in your observations of HECA79. I was told you were able to directly observe her during the incident. If there is anything you can tell us, please, speak loudly enough for the tape to hear.”
“Oh! Oh gosh. You know, I completely forgot we were being taped haha! And you caught all of my rambling! Well, I think I can help you out. Oh yes. Now. You must understand. A good half of this is going to be embellished. You know how memories go, you always get more heroic looking back as time goes on haha. But yes, I think I can help you out. Ah, where should I start?”
“What was the first thing out of the ordinary that you noticed?”
“Her lips were moving.”
“Is that out of the ordinary?”
“By gosh for a plutophant yes! At full emmanation, there is no part of them that is not the market! Every neuron soaked in hypno-amphetamine rocket fuel! Most of them –if you’ll pardon my language sir– shit their tanks the moment their Id touches the sub-finantial background grid! What do you think half those tubes are for! A plutophant in full emmanation doesn’t have a braincell to spare to keep their sphincters closed, much less perform something as complex as speech!”
“I see. Could you make out what the asset was saying?”
“Oh no. No, I’m afraid not. I can’t read lips. Back in those days, they were hooked up to a helmet, and then the helmet read the delta-wave patterns, and then printed that on magnetic tape. That way, we could feed the tape to some lob-, ah translators, and have them interpret the feed.”
“When did her lips start to move? What time of day?”
“Funny thing, almost exactly at 12:03. I should have been off at lunch, but I was procrastinating. I had a crossword I was right on the edge of solving. It was one of those big words that goes all the way across the page. TIMEPIECE. I remember that clear as day.”
“Interesting. I have here that equipment registered the fire almost exactly seven minutes later.”
“Oh dear. Do you understand what that means sir?”
“No, please, enlighten me.”
“Is that a schematic of the N class tank you have there? Hand it over. Thank you sir. So. Back in 1983, we didn’t have any of the fancy digital equipment we have now. Well, we did, but not to the same degree. Most of our equipment was good old analogue. You see this module here? These weren’t part of our system. No, we were waiting on the replacements to show up.”
“And, what is that part?” 
“Think of it like the uh, ah yes, the carburetor in a car. It keeps everything balanced. Keeps the subjects metabolism steady so they don’t chew through the drugs too fast, keeps the tank at the ideal temperature for chemical reactions, without boiling the subject like a lobster haha. But the key is, it was completely mechanical. But at the end of the day, it's just a bunch of tubes full of fluid that move based on pressure differentials.”
“Which means?”
“Well, heat would throw it off.”
“Here, I think we have a schematic. Now, doctor, this is very important. I need you to explain to me exactly how the machine malfunctioned, and how it would affect HECA79.”
“Well technically, it wasn’t malfunctioning at all. It was functioning correctly, just under less-than-ideal circumstances. Oh, haha. Yes, haha, but thats not what you’re looking for haha. Yes. Well. What side did the fire hit it from? Do you know?”
“This one here.”
“Fascinating. Well. Then, the apparatus would have uh, hm. Oh dear.”
“Doctor.”
“It would have spiked the hypnostimulant feed, while introducing impurities.”
“Which means?”
“I- I haven’t the slightest idea. It would've been deadly, I can assure you that. But its as if…Its as if you had a car, coasting in neutral, downhill at terminal velocity, and then you switched gears to high gear, and then slammed the gas while spraying rocket fuel into the intake.”
“Could we ask you to write a full report on your speculation?”
“Frankly sir, I am as intrigued as you are. You would have to hold my wrists to keep me from writing on this. Fascinating.”
ENCLOSED: FINAL READOUT OF HECA79
"BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD"[Phrase repeats over twenty thousand times.]
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gyuswhore · 7 months ago
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Grease (the tragedy)
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“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”
jeon wonwoo x reader
word count: 5.8k
warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!
synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.
[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe
and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh
and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!
masterlist
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 [You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???
Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here. 
It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents. 
[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7  [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine
Today 7:20 PM
[You]: im here?
The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.
So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations. 
Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway. 
The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too. 
You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table. 
“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”
“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”
He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!
It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway. 
“O–oh, I see.”
The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order. 
Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink. 
“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”
“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”
Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved. 
The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time. 
“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”
“Her husband.”
“I see.”
Silence. 
“How do you know her husband?”
He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either. 
“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”
“Workshop?”
He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”
“No, she didn’t.”
It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence. 
One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave. 
“What kind of cars do you work on?”
“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”
“Have I heard of it?”
“The cars?”
“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”
“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”
You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.
“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”
“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”
“Family business?”
“Uh–sort of.” 
“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”
“Is there a problem?”
Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion. 
“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least. 
“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”
“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.
“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”
There isn’t much you can do but stare at him. 
“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing. 
“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving. 
Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him. 
“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”
Did he…snort?
“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself. 
“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever. 
“Nothing.”
That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth. 
If he was gonna be rude, you could be too. 
“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”
Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”
“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”
“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”
Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco. 
“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”
“For laughing?”
“And for being obscenely late.”
“And?”
“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”
“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.” 
Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”
“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”
The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”
“More like I don’t care to be personable.”
“That can’t be good for business.”
“The cars speak for themselves.”
He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances. 
“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after. 
“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”
The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”
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“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!” 
There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck. 
Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”
The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks. 
“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”
“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”
“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”
Lies, it was entirely her fault. 
Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.
“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"
“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”
“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”
“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”
“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”
“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”
Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside. 
That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire. 
“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”
How fitting. 
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“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?” 
You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again. 
Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”
“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact. 
“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”
What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little. 
You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop. 
The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway. 
The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators. 
Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of. 
“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag. 
To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.
“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask. 
“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?” 
No, just a failed love interest.
“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”
“Do you need help with your car?”
“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”
With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside. 
By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things. 
At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.  
“Am I late for something again?” 
Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face. 
“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.
“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”
“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”
He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.
Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all. 
A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage. 
“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you. 
You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”
“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.” 
Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”
“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard. 
“So you can fix it?” 
“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”
Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”
“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”
It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”
“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.” 
“Because that’s gonna cost…?”
“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine. 
“But—” That’s it?
“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you. 
“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work. 
The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him. 
Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular. 
Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close. 
“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”
Wonwoo stares pointedly. 
You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”
He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”
“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row. 
Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”
“What does it do?”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Touché.” 
Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”
Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”
“You’re impossible.”
He smirks, “Touché.” 
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You questioned if this was a mistake. 
Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.
The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course. 
But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again. 
Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke. 
Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t. 
Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…
The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos. 
“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”
“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”
“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”
He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”
“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.
He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”
You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often. 
Goodness, what’s gotten into you.
Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving. 
“Shall we go to the office then?” 
Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra. 
“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”
“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”
It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.
“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed. 
Cute. 
There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet. 
You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”
“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”
“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup. 
He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”
You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”
He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side. 
As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”
“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”
“I can make an exception or two,” he grins. 
“And if you charge me double?”
“Might not charge you at all.”
“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space. 
“Might.”
“And what’re the conditions for that?” 
He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”
You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”
He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”
“Hm?”
“Can I? Let you know?” 
It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying. 
“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues. 
You hesitate. “I think so too.”
“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–” 
“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”
He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”
“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”
“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.” 
“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease. 
You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name. 
Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea. 
“Are you doing anything else today?” 
“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”
He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”
You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.
This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.
He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly. 
Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”
He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”
“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.
“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”
If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?
“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”
You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside. 
Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt. 
When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay. 
“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”
Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly. 
That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination. 
“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”
He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars. 
There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer. 
“Was that okay?”
“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”
“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”
You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway. 
“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched. 
“Fuck, yes you can.” 
With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”
You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top. 
Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers. 
You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs. 
Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster. 
“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”
He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace. 
You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth. 
The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees. 
You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy. 
“There,” he pants. “Almost.”
You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly. 
“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”
And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs. 
The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support. 
“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him. 
He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”
You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”
And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you. 
And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash. 
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adrienneleclerc · 6 months ago
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Slam the Door
Summary: Where Y/N slams the door on her boyfriend’s car to see how he would react.
Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors
A/N: this includes Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, Oscar Piastri, Logan Sargeant, Max Verstappen, and Carlos Sainz Jr. since I am writing about them now
Charles Leclerc
Y/N and Charles were in the gas station. He filled up the car and got back in the car to get his wallet.
“Hey, I can go in pay for it, I kinda wanted some chips and a soda.” Y/N said.
“Yeah sure, Mon coeur, here’s my wallet.” Charles said, sitting fully in the car, handing his wallet to Y/N.
“Thanks, muñeco.” Y/N said, before slamming the door. Charles was startled, his face like when he hit the camera in Australia.
“What was that about.” Charles wondered out loud. “Did I do something? I don’t think I did anything, can’t be her period, she would have told me, can’t be her birthday, not our anniversary, what happened?” He could think about dome thing else since Y/N got in the car. “Why did you slam my door?” Charles asked
“What?” Y/N asked, opening her bag of chips.
“Why did you slam my door? Did I do something to upset you, or…?” Charles asked, starting his car.
“What? Of course not, it’s just a TikTok prank.” Y/N said.
“Oh, okay, but did you have to slam the door so hard, the car actually shook, Mon ange.” Charles said, Y/N laughed.
“Sorry, muñeco, I didn’t mean to. But the car is okay.” Y/N said.
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Lando Norris
Y/N and Lando were leaving the restaurant, they got into his car, Y/N looked in her purse.
“La concha de su madre, I left my ID at the restaurant, I’ll be right back.” Y/N said.
“Of course, baby, be safe.” Lando said.
“I will.” Y/N said, getting out of the car and slamming the door. Lando was in shock, rolled down his window, honked his horn to make Y/N turn around, and yelled.
“You muppet! Were you trying to cause a mini earthquake?” Lando shouted and Y/N was bent over, laughing. “What are you laughing about? I’m pretty sure my phone fell in between the seats.”
“Sorry, fresita, it’s was a TikTok prank.” Y/N said, walking back to the car and showing him her ID.
“Why can’t you be one of those girls who pulls the penal where they walk in on their boyfriends naked? I’d really like that one.” Lando said, starting the car to go home:
“Because that’s not a prank, Lando, that’s your dream come true.” Y/N said and Lando laughed
“Well you’re not wrong.” Lando replied. “Can you help me look for my phone when we make it home?”
“Yeah, of course.”
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Logan Sargeant
Y/N and Logan were going to leave the parking lot when.
“Shit, forgot my phone upstairs, I’ll be right back.” Y/N said.
“Alright.” Logan said. Y/N slammed the door and Logan started looking around the car and looked at Y/N through the windshield. “The fuck was that about.” Y/N walked back to the car with her phone in hand. She got into the car and Logan was staring at her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Y/N asked.
“Do you love me?” Logan asked.
“Of course I do.” Y/N said.
“Then why did you slam my door? It felt like that scene in Jurassic Park where the dinosaurs shook the whole ground.” Logan said and Y/N laughed.
“Don’t be dramatic, I barely slammed the door.” Y/N said.
“Im pretty sure there is a crack in window.” Logan said, pointing to the passenger side window.
“Haha, it was a TikTok prank, let’s go.” Y/N said.
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Oscar Piastri
Oscar and Y/N were putting groceries in the trunk.
“Tiburóncin, can you start the car and turn on the A/C? I want the freezer meals to stay cool.” Y/N said.
“Sure, darling.” Oscar said, kissing Y/N before he enters the car and did as he was told. Y/N finished putting groceries away. Y/N opened the passenger door.
“Im gonna our the cart away, okay?” Y/N said before slamming the door to put the cart back. Oscar just blinked.
“That was weird.” Oscar said, Y/N got back into the car. “Is there any particular reason why you slammed my door? I told you, it’s not the store’s fault they don’t carry your pumpkin seeds.” Oscar said.
“First; they all carry pumpkin seeds, they just carry them raw or dry roasted and salted. Why the hell are there never pumpkin seeds dry roasted in their shells? Anyway, it was just a TikTok prank.” Y/N said.
“Babe, this is my company car, you can’t just slam the door.” Oscar said.
“Sorry, tiburóncin, let’s go home before our groceries start to melt.” Y/N said.
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Lewis Hamilton
Lewis and Y/N were in the parking lot of the restaurant.
“Okay, loser has to pick it up.” Y/N said.
“No way, I picked up food last time, it’s your turn.” Lewis said.
“Fine, give me money to pay for the food.” Y/N said, holding out her hand. Lewis handed her over his wallet. “Thank you, cariño.” Y/N said and slammed the door when she left. Lewis rolled down his window and honked his horn, causing Y/N to turn. Lewis poked his head out the window.
“Did you seriously slam my door because I made you pick up the food?” Lewis asked. “I didn’t know you were so bratty!” Lewis shouted
“You can’t shout that shit out, sir Lewis!” Y/N shouted back
“Watch me! Pick up the food, the sooner we get it, the sooner I’ll fuck the best out of you!” Lewis yelled.
“Dude!” Y/N yelled before entering the restaurant, Lewis winked and blew her a kiss before pulling his head back in. Y/N came back. “I have the food and just for the record, I wasn’t being a brat.”
“Then why did you slam the door?” Lewis asked.
“TikTok prank, you know, it’s a Gen Z, think, you wouldn’t know since you’re a millennial.” Y/N teased.
“You’re trying to call me old?” Lewis asked
“Not trying, I am calling you old. Now I’m being a brat.” Y/N said.
“Oh you’re getting it when we get home.” Lewis said, pulling out of the parking lot.
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Carlos Sainz Jr.
Y/N and Carlos were in the Walgreens parking lot.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” Carlos asked
“Alguien te ha dicho que preocupes mucho? It’s not like I’m in an episode of criminal minds, we’re in broad daylight, I’m fine, don’t worry. I’ll be back.” Y/N said, before kissing Carlos and slamming the door to enter Walgreens. Carlos jumped from the brute force. Carlos rolled down the window.
“Hija de tu madre, por qué haces eso?” Carlos asked laughing.
“Let me get my shit, okay!” Y/N went in and got out quickly, getting into the car. “Ahora sí, whats up?”
“Why did you slam my door? My car has done nothing to you.” Carlos asked laughing.
“Sorry, amor, it was a prank.” Y/N said.
“My poor car.” Carlos said.
“No seas payaso, let’s go home, I got your dog a treat.” Y/N said.
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Max Verstappen
Max and Y/N were sitting in a parking lot.
“Hey, I’m gonna get ice cream, I’ll be right back, okay.” Y/N said.
“Okay, darling.” Max said. Y/N slammed the door when she left and Max just stared at Y/N walking away. He blinks and went back on his phone. “Wonder what’s that about.” Y/N came back.
“So I bought you ice cream, you can eat it now or just put it in the freezer.” Y/N said, showing him the cup with the to-go lid., Max stared at him. “What?”
“You slammed my door, why?” Max asked.
“It’s a TikTok prank.” Y/N responded.
“Okay.” Max said.
“That’s it?” Y/N asked.
“Yeah, I know you’re addicted to the app.” Max said.
“I am not addicted, you take that back.” Y/N said.
“You slammed my door because of TikTok, you’re addicted.” Max said.
“Fine, it’s my ice cream now.” Y/N said.
“Okay, okay, you’re not addicted, let’s go, I gotta see my cats.” Max said.
“Ugh, I gotta take my allergy pills.” Y/N said, continuing to eat her ice cream as Max drives off.
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Hope y’all liked it! I tried something different, should I do more posts like this?
2K notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 1 year ago
Text
peas in a pod | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!russell!reader
y/n and george russell may be twins, but they’re hardly two peas in a pod and oscar is just there for the ride
MASTERLIST | TIPS
yourusername
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liked by georgerussell63, oscarpiastri and 602,344 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: are you alex’s appendix cause you make me wanna bust 😩
view all comments
user1: excuse me 😀
user2: sometimes i’m like yeah george and y/n are defo twins and then she says shit like this and i’m like they can’t be related
alexalbon: erm what is is ?
yourusername: gosh so other people can use your appendicitis for a seat but i can’t use it to appreciate my boyf - PC gone crazy
alexalbon: the only censorship you’ll need is when my foot is up your ass
yourusername: i’d love to see you try i’ll put you back in the hospital
alexalbon: you say that but when i woke up in hospital you were crying your eyes out begging me to never do that again ����
yourusername: i was CHANNELLING GEORGE OBVIOUSLY
oscarpiastri: she cried about it for a good week after alex dw she loves you really
yourusername: TURNCOAT say goodbye to your bedtime privileges
georgerussell63: okay we’ll stop right there, y/n is sorry for joking about your appendicitis alex, and y/n we will not be discussing extracurricular activities with oscar. thank you.
user3: what about the people who want to hear about the extracurriculars? and maybe want to … see them?
yourusername: @oscarpiastri how do you think mclaren would feel about an onlyfans?
oscarpiastri: i think it’ll be a hard no
yourusername: ugh boring
user4: y/n talking about an onlyfans whereas i don’t believe george has even seen a naked woman
oscarpiastri: i love you and your dumb fucking pick up lines
yourusername: what do you mean i’m literally the reincarnation of william shakespeare?
georgerussell63: more like e l james
yourusername: i knew it was you who stole my copy of 50 shades GIVE IT BACK
yourusername: anyhow … i love you too babe x
user5: every comment section we learn new y/n russell lore and it shocks me everytime
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oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 734,513 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: in this house i guess we celebrate hit tweets? happy one year anniversary to the alpine breakup
view all comments
user6: CAKE SCARED ME FOR A SEC I WON'T LIE
yourusername: i think the technical term is “stunting on these hoes”
oscarpiastri: for pr reasons i will not be agreeing
yourusername: @ otmar HE BROKE I’M UP
oscarpiastri: you’re going to get me into even more trouble than that tweet did
yourusername: blame me and tell them to meet me in the car park, no weapons just fists
oscarpiastri: maybe let’s not
yourusername: you don’t wanna be my sexy ring girl? :(
georgerussell63: one day of not threatening people is all i ask for
yourusername: you weren’t saying that when i beat that year 13 guy’s ass in year ten for picking on you 🤨
georgerussell63: well yes but needs must
oscarpiastri: sorry george i’m siding with y/n she’s not afraid to tell the waiter they got my order wrong
landonorris: and she can square up to the people who won’t leave us alone in clubs
georgerussell63: okay i get it damn
yourusername: SMASH
alexalbon: you can’t let anything be normal can you?
yourusername: since you wanna be in my business… lily is a smash too
alexalbon: excuse me?
yourusername: let it be known if i weren’t already with the love of my life, id steal your girl
lilymunhe: oh wow … umm ☺️😳
alexalbon: OSCAR DO SOMETHING
oscarpiastri: idk bro im focusing on being called the love of y/n’s life
user7: silly season was so boring this year thank the lord we have y/n to cause chaos
georgerussell63: do not encourage her
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 823,410 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: you think i look bad, you should see the other girl. don’t touch men without their consent - and definitely don’t touch my man or you will be dealt with. trust.
view all comments
user8: someone leaked the video and omg that girl has hands
user9: she did NAWT hold back omg
oscarpiastri: i love you, thank you for defending my honour
yourusername: i love you too, i’d protect you with my life but don’t get it twisted, i’d throw hands for anyone
oscarpiastri: no but for real i’m very thankful for you standing up for me
user10: why is everyone praising this? all this shows me is that piastri is a pussy that needs his gross girlfriend to stand up for him?
yourusername: i’m going to stop you right there. that girl thought she could touch a man without his consent, and it’s completely out of order. so she was handed the consequences. oscar couldn’t do anything so it fell into my hands. you are the problem, do not talk down to him or other victims in those situations.
georgerussell63: as much as i joke, im glad you and oscar have each other.
yourusername: thank you georgie
oscarpiastri: thanks george, but your sister is the real knight in shining armour here
yourusername: i'll always save you princess 👸
alexalbon: everyone is being very sentimental but YO I KNEW YOU SAID YOU HAD HANDS BUT DAMN
user11: alex spill how brutal was it?
alexalbon: i had a front seat and it was like prime anthony joshua she was NOT playing
yourusername: oh wow that’s a big statement
alexalbon: i don’t wanna sound unprofessional but it was honestly crazy and i am so impressed y/n should really consider combat sports
yourusername: in my defence she just fully turned in on my fist
georgerussell63: okay normal service resumed she's making fun of me again :(
user12: why are we celebrating violence?
user13: people have no respect for the drivers these days, just because you’re in the same club as them does not mean that you’re entitled to harass them ??? you fuck around you’re going to find out… esp when y/n is around LOL
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oscarpiastri
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liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,023,444 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: so a lot has happened. i don't want to give the girl any more attention. i love my girlfriend and i love how much she loves me. cry more.
view all comments
user14: OOP HE GAGGED THE HOES
georgerussell63: "cry more" y/n has clearly been rubbing off on you
yourusername: i can assure you i've done much more than just rub off on him
georgerussell63: NO NO STOP RIGHT THERE MISSY
oscarpiastri: to be fair you walked right into that one george
georgerussell63: introducing you two really is the stupidest thing i've ever done
oscarpiastri: first of all, arthur introduced us months before you "introduced us", second of all, this is a lot coming from the guy who cried to me about how i'm so great for your sister and can't wait to have me as a brother-in-law
yourusername: AWWW GEORGIE YOU SOFTIE
georgerussell63: yes i am soft. i love love. sue me gosh.
user15: they are so aesthetically pleasing to my eyes
landonorris: so does like y/n wanna give self defence classes?
yourusername: for a price, soz nothing comes for free in this economy
danielricciardo: please can you do classes? i wanna harness your rabid chihuahua energy
yourusername: i am NOT. a chihuahua take that back daniel
oscarpiastri: she's more like a kangaroo, cute but will steal your dog and beat your ass
yourusername: true, i just wanna put you in my pouch
yourusername: that sounds weird, but i just wanna hold you and never let go
danielricciardo: okay i was just messing around no need to be disgustingly cute
logansargeant: i'm glad you're both okay, but that room service debrief went so hard
oscarpiastri: honestly if i weren't holding an ice pack to my girlfriend's face it would've been top two
yourusername: eh i think it's still top two, nothing is unseating when we were next door to lando shagging and we made it a drinking game 😭
landonorris: WHAT ????
oscarpiastri: no comment
logansargeant: no comment
yourusername: it was drink every time you moaned impressively loud 👍
landonorris: no comment
alexalbon
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 822,304 others
tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri, lilymunhe
alexalbon: idc you can never get me to hate her ass if you poke the bear expect to get bitten
view all comments
user16: sorry to the galex truthers but y/n and alex are the superior friendship
yourusername: i knew you loved me + and i knew you loved oscar SEND ME THE LAST PIC NEW LOCKSCREEN INCOMING
alexalbon: i've been the personal photographer for both russells for years and i'm only just being appreciated
yourusername: HOLD ON i take just as many of you and lily
alexalbon: well that's easier because we're much easier to photograph
oscarpiastri: WOAH hold your horses pal, call me ugly all you want but one shall not dishonour y/n
alexalbon: okay someone spent the break at the russell house
yourusername: HE'S NOT UGLY YOU POOL NOODLE TAKE IT BACK
alexalbon: damn it's a tough crowd. and on a post literally appreciating you
yourusername: bare minimum
user17: okay the kardashians are over - netflix can we please get a drive to survive spin off about y/n, george, oscar and alex ????
landonorris: lando norris erasure
charles_leclerc: charles leclerc erasure
oscarpiastri: move over twitch quartet, there's a new sheriff in town
landonorris: okay i'm banning y/n from mclaren you've spent too much time with her and now a rookie is bullying me :(
yourusername: he ate you up... i'm so proud
landonorris: is this the environment the russells promote? @georgerussell63
georgerussell63: you're on your own on this one lando i gave up years ago
yourusername: @oscarpiastri i think that's called maximising our joint slay
oscarpiastri: they wish they were us for real
user18: i love watching a black cat gf slowly corrupt her golden retriever bf
yourusername: oscar is like an evil little kitten really
oscarpiastri: and you love it
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note: quick one cause i'm in my feelings. enjoy this random oscar cuteness he is an aussie queen (also a friend of mine literally went to the same school as him it's so weird)
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avionvadion · 4 months ago
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if i had a nickel for every time the nrc boys lost their shit about something happening to them that yuu already deals with ("OH NO OUR MAGIC" in glorious masquerade and *gestures at nightmare before christmas*) id have two nickels which isnt a lot but i think yuu should get their asses for that as a treat
Malleus, Sebek, Leona, Jade, Riddle, Trey, Azul, Vil, Epel, Idia, Jamil: “OH NO WE’VE BEEN ISEKAI’D WHAT DO WE DO, HOW DO WE GET HOME, WE’RE SO SCARED.”
Yuu: “Yeah, really sucks, huh? Good thing you were with friends when it happened. Would’ve been DEVASTATING if you got isekai’d all alone.”
The boys, staring at Yuu, remembering who they are and how they got to their school: “Oh shit, fam, you right. Sorry.”
Idia: “WHAT DO WE DO, HOW DO WE SURVIVE THIS ISEKAI, O’ CHOSEN ONE!???”
Yuu: “THANK YOU, IDIA. Let’s follow Jack!”
Vil: “You just want to hear him sing.”
Yuu: “THIS WORLD IS MY CHILDHOOD AND THE ONLY GOOD THING TO HAPPEN TO ME THIS FAR. I HEREBY RETIRE FROM HEROISM, YOU BOYS ARE ON YOUR OWN. I’M LIVING IN HALLOWEEN TOWN WITH MY NEW BESTIE.”
Skully: “WE’RE BESTIES NOW!? YAY!”
Yuu and Skully run off after Jack, arm in arm, singing This is Halloween.
Idia: “This is it. This is how we die. Ortho, big brother is sorry… Book-Kun got me…”
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toytle · 11 months ago
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happy birthday barry, hope this one doesn’t give you war flashbacks 🎉
redraw + remix of Flash: Rebirth vol. 4
[ID in alt text + below cut]
Fanart comic of Barry Allen’s birthday, page 1: Barry is rigid in shock as Iris pushes him towards his surprise birthday party. Along the side are panels of each guest wishing him a happy birthday as bloodied flashbacks play behind them of the moments when Eobard Thawne had murdered them.
Page 2: Panel 1 is a close up shot of Barry with a horrified expression, beset by a red background reminiscent of the bloodied flashbacks. He manages to get out the words: “Thanks… everybody….” Panel 2 is Barry walking away from the guests, touching his face in distress. He says, “Sorry. I’m really glad to see everyone… I just… Just gimme a minute….” One of the guests behind him suggests, “Maybe he’s a little shellshocked?” The red background continues to swarm him. Panel 3 is a closeup of Barry’s face as an off-screen voice says, “Hey, buddy….” His fingers slowly slide off his face as he looks up in its direction.
Page 3: Panel 1 reveals Hal Jordan holding a box and wearing a smile. He says, “Looks like I’m right on time.” The red swarm surrounding Barry doesn’t seem to touch Hal. Panel 2 is Hal handing Barry the box, which contains a model plane, as he says, “Happy birthday, Barry.” Barry takes it in his hands with a worn but blank expression. Panel 3 is much the same with Barry unmoving as he’s processing the exchange. Panel 4 is Barry suddenly giving Hal a fond, sarcastic smile as he says, “Great gift, Hal. I especially liked it when I gave it to you for your birthday two years ago.” The red swarm gradually dissipates from each panel, clearing up entirely in the last one.
Page 4: Simplified doodles of Hal and Barry stand in the large, empty space of the page. Hal has one hand in his pocket and the other gesturing in explanation. His expression is embarrassed but good-humored as he says, “Really? You sure? Uh… Haven’t been home in a long time, so….” Barry responds, “Too long… I’m just happy to see you, buddy.” He holds the gift close to himself with an innocent, close-eyed smile. An arrow points to him, reading: Literally snapped out of it to be a little shit. /end ID
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moonstruckme · 5 months ago
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CONGRATS ON 7K!!!! I've never seen a blog that deserves it so much!
for the bake sale- id love apple pie number 14 (laddered tights). I'm not sure if poly! marauders is an option- if not James would be great!
hope you have an amazing day ☀️
Poly!marauders is always an option ! Hope you have an amazing day too <3
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 418 words
You hear Sirius’ quiet hiss, followed by James’ “now you’ve done it” before you can even look down. 
You see the chipped polish of your boyfriend’s fingernail at the epicenter of a new tear in your tights. 
“Sirius,” you sigh. “Really?” 
“I’m sorry.” He presses his hand over the tear as though to stop it from spreading. “You said these were supposed to be un-rip-able!” 
“That doesn’t mean you’re supposed to try to rip them.” 
“I wasn’t!” Sirius pouts at you. “I wasn’t, baby, I was just…I was…” 
“He was feeling you up,” James supplies. 
“I was admiring how your tights look on your legs. Through a tactile lens.” 
“Can they be fixed?” Remus asks, leaning over to see. The four of you are squished into a corner booth at a cafe. You and James had a craving for hot chocolate when the weather turned earlier this week, and you’d brought out your new tights for the occasion. 
“No, there’s no fixing them,” you sulk, cutting Sirius a look. “You owe me a new pair.” 
He manages to look chastised. James brushes his hand aside, poking his own finger into the tear. Like he’s pulled a thread, it snakes up the rest of your thigh. 
“Shit!” He pulls back.  
“It’s okay,” you say, though you sound dejected enough that Remus coos and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “There’s really no way to keep it from getting worse.” 
“Oh, so when he does it it’s fine?” Sirius crosses his arms. “When did we get so blatant with our favoritism?”
“They’re already ruined,” you remind him. “Anything anyone does now is just speeding up the inevitable.” 
You take a long, slow sip of your tea while he sits with that, but when your boyfriend starts to look actually guilty you crack. 
“It’s really okay.” You offer him a smile.
“I’ll get you a new pair,” Sirius vows. 
“You don’t have to. I was only giving you a hard time.” 
He narrows his eyes at you playfully. “I know you were. But I want to anyway.” 
“You don’t have the backbone to be a very good tormenter, angel,” James teases you. Remus hums his agreement. “You give in too easily.” 
You scoff. “Like you can talk.” 
“Seal the deal with a kiss?” Sirius simpers at you. 
You roll your eyes. “Fine.” 
You lean towards him, but neither of your other boyfriends seems at all surprised when Sirius leans down to kiss your laddered tights instead. 
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somerandomdot · 1 year ago
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Random Nsfw Halsin Headcanons
Hello I’m just trying something out, if you like it or have a different opinion or would like to share yours you may. Id appreciate if you suggested kinda, anything! Thank you for reading)
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Omg I love his eyes in this GIF bro, his puppy eyessss
First off, for some reason this part in my brain just screams that this man has a dry humping kink, or any kinda of just pinning in general.
BIG MAN HANDS ON ME. Sorry, okay his hands are on your waist, shoulder, honestly any part he can grab at. His hands are either on your body or in your hair. He is a handy man.
One hundred percent this man has a breeding kink, I mean obviously… as nature intended
Going back to the pinning thing, I feel like with how large this hunk of a elf is he generally wouldn’t want to use much strength being worried of hurting you.
Honestly I feel like him putting half of his weight on top of you, or pushing himself against you is already crushing enough. So he’d be rather soft and slow at first.
We already know Halsin already is a giver when it comes to head, but one thousand percent he would like the same treatment. But would not really ask for it, so you’d probably have to ask him, since he’d never expect you too, caring about your pleasure and getting off on it.
If he’s on the receiving side of head, I feel like he’d not be the whimper type at all, but just groans, heavy breathing and saying your name/praises while you work on him with your mouth.
This man cannot keep his hips still, he’d be bucking into your mouth every so often, then apologizing for it as you’d gag from the unexpected thrust.
I can imagine this man is, rather large and thick when it comes to his sizing, rather on the more thick around the tip and thinning out to the base.
I feel like he wouldn’t be into heavy kinks, unless you’d ask to try something else/share kinks your with him. I feel like he’d be more into passionate sloppy sex.
His favorite position is either picking you up while he’s standing, your legs around his waist, back against any surface or none at all and his hands on your hips or wrapped around you as he controls the momentum by either thrusting up into you or literally lifting you up and down by your hips or just bear hugging you. (Had too) Or either the classic missionary, legs over his shoulders or around his waist as he thrusts into you as you layback and enjoy it.
Halsin enjoys long sessions rather than short ones, taking his time and edging himself and you. Agonizingly slow soft thrusts to than picking up his pace and roughness for a bit then continuing onto the slow soft ones.
He’d slowdown once you announce that you’re getting close, but if he unsuccessfully edges you as you hit your climax he wouldn’t punish you. If anything he’d make the session last longer enjoying the way you twitch and shudder beneath him or against him.
Eventually when he’s done edging himself and you he’d change his pace to a slow but rough thrusting, while he praises you or either has his head pressed into you neck, occasionally bites and nibbles on your neck and shoulders.
Only time I feel like he’d actually moan or whimper is while he puts it in or while he is comes.
He has, A LOT of ‘ammunition’, honestly feel like he’d come quite a bit, three to four shots. Making a nice cream pie.
Obviously he is an amazing person with aftercare, cleaning you up, helping you get dressed and healing if necessary.
Man’s loves cuddles, no shit he’s a big teddy bear, but due to his protective instincts he’d be holding onto things while he sleep, either it be a random pillow, you or wrapping his arms around himself he always sleeps holding something.
You made it!! Thank you so much, if you have any opinions, suggestions or any advice I’d love to hear it! Enjoy the rest of your morning/afternoon/night!
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cinnamanz · 1 month ago
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# DARLING, I — chapter fifty-two!
when new york city’s widely-known spider-woman's life becomes unknowingly entwined with a member of the rising global girl group katseye, she learns that juggling superhero duties, university, and a sudden crush may or may not just be the downfall of her. but hey, at least she's helping people, right?
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THE END
frozen at the sight of manon holding one of the red spider-woman masks, y/n shuffles around the room awkwardly, slowly backing up to the window and slipping a leg out of the ajar space. “sorry, wrong room.”
“i know that’s you, y/n. come back here or i’ll drag you back inside myself.” y/n sighs as she pulls her leg out of the window, following the other’s command obediently as she tugs her mask off, revealing her band-aid littered face. manon clicks her tongue. “and here i thought you were cheating on me.”
confusion washes over the taller’s features, head tilting as her lips pressed into a thin line, shaking her head. “seriously? you think i’d ever cheat on you? i mean, i might have hit my head many times from being spider-woman, but i haven’t hit it that hard that it compels me to cheat on you.” she retorted, the thought of cheating on manon highly offensive.
manon scoffs at her witty response, brows raising at her as if to challenge her, crossing her arms over her chest. “please. the past dates we’ve had, you either cancelled or left halfway through. who wouldn’t think you were cheating?”
“okay, valid. but if i were cheating, i wouldn’t come back all bruised and shit.”
“shut up about cheating now. i thought you joined some kind of fight club. you know, like the movie?” manon said with a sigh of irritation, running a hand through her braids. “i mean, it was the only thing that made sense at the time.”
“manz, i’m a university student that part-times as florist. you really think i’d have the time to join a fight club?” y/n responds, flabbergasted at her words, something that grows bigger every word that escapes her lips, while manon takes the initiative to approach her and grab the mask from her hand, tossing it somewhere behind her shoulder.
“shut up.” she mumbled, wrapping her arms around the superhero’s neck, eyes raking over every single feature, as if engraving it in her memory. she brings a hand up to her face, the pad of her thumb running across y/n's cheek adoringly.
“you’re annoying.” pressing her lips against the other’s soft ones, she leaned up slightly on her tip-toes, a hand snaking its way to the back of y/n’s head and pulled her even closer, lips moving in a slow dance as she poured every single bottled feelings into the kiss.
y/n’s arms instinctively wrapped around the singer’s waist, smiling into the kiss before manon had pulled back for air. “be my girlfriend?”
“took you long enough to ask.”
pressing a quick peck on her lips with a chuckle, a light bulb appears on y/n’s head. “hey, wanna go on a swing around the city? i wanna show you something i made earlier.”
manon nods, willing to go wherever the superhero takes her. “if you drop me, i'll kill you.”
“it’s fine. i’ll catch you anyway.” 
“i don’t care. drop me and i’ll break up with you.”
"thought you said you'll kill me?"
"ugh, stop being smart and carry me already!"
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masterlist 🕸️🕷✮⋆˙ next
imagine being accused of cheating when yall arent even dating yet n e ways ID LIKE TO THANK EACH N EVERY ONE OF U WHO'D SUPPORTED THIS SMAU TILL THE VERY END I LOVE U ALL SM <333
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taglist : @yeetaberry127 @urmom2314 @lararajjj @artrizzler19 @ninguitar @ohmyhaely @firstclassjaylee @meganskiendielsbtc @sed7ction @modanisgf @vrtualstar @ssamlovr @grahstumhurts @sixflame438 @fearnotfearmore @c-yerim @taikabui @saturn-projector @uchinagai @goofymickeyr @rosiehrs @lunawriteskstuff @meiyoksnumberone TAGLIST CLOSED!
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lostgirlmuseum · 1 year ago
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honey
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader
Words: 2.7k
Summary: Bucky notices you've been acting really strange lately... like, really strange. And flirty? What happened to you, and are your eyes... glowing?
Warnings: Mentions of reader having hair long enough to twirl, kissing w/o consent??? No use of y/n.
A/N: Hiiii. um. Is this bad? At first I didn't think so but then Idk I was like.. this isn't good. But then I was like, no it's fine... and then I was like no it's terrible, and now I'm like.. it's okay! I think? I'm sorry.
Dividers: @firefly-graphics, moodboard by me (more info at the end.)
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It was late, and you felt sleep tug at your eyelids as you shut the door to the communal living room, a room you had to pass through to get to your bedroom. You were ready to get out of your street clothes, dry your damp hair, and get some shut-eye.
“Where have you been?” A gruff voice sounded and was quickly followed by the ‘click’ of a lamp and a dim light illuminating the figure seated in the corner of the room.
“Jesus!” You clutched your chest and nearly dropped your bag. “Fuck, Bucky, you scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you doing lurking in the dark?” You whispered harshly, although it was unnecessary. No one sleeping would be able to hear you from the living room.
“It’s three in the morning.” He stated, unmoving.
“I’m aware. Thanks.” 
“This is the sixth time in two weeks you’ve come home this late.” His voice remained low, his tone both bored and accusatory.
“So you’re watching me now?” You scoffed, your heartbeat finally slowing from his previous scare.
“Our rooms are right next to each other, I know when you’re not in there.” 
“Perv.” You rolled your eyes.
“I’m going to ignore that.” 
“Good night,” you offered and began to leave the room.
“You haven’t answered my question yet.” He leaned forward in his seat and placed his forearms on his thighs.
“My whereabouts aren’t your business.” You stopped at the doorway and spoke over your shoulder.
“Your whereabouts became my business the second it started affecting your ability in the field.” He stood up and took a couple of steps towards you.
“You don’t need to worry about me.”
“I worry that your negligence and refusal to take care of yourself is going to result in a failed mission, or maybe even you getting a fellow teammate hurt.”
“Aw, and for a second I thought you might actually care about me.” You faked a pout and continued your way down the hall and to your room. He followed you the entire way, not saying anything. 
“My abilities are fine,” you stated, holding your ID up to the pad that would scan and unlock your door.
“You’ve been missing morning training, you’re slower than usual, and you’ve practically been falling asleep in your breakfast.” He sidestepped you to get a better view of your face.
You ignored Friday’s “Welcome back,” chime and stepped inside your room.
“Careful now, or I might start to suspect you’re a stalker.” You teased and began to close your door on him, but he pushed it back open.
“And why the hell is your hair damp? Because I know it wasn’t raining outside.”
“I’m going to bed now, Barnes.”
“If you don’t tell me where you’ve been I’ll bring my concerns to Steve.”
You rolled your eyes at his intense stare. “I’ve been doing some research.”
“On?” He lowered his hand from the door at your answer, secretly surprised you’d actually given him something.
“Nunya.”
“What’s—”
“Nunya business,” you laughed and slammed the door shut before he realized what you’d done.
You stifled a laugh at the grumbles you heard from behind your door and imagined how funny he looked out there. Fool.
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Bucky stood at the kitchen counter pouring syrup on his waffles, trying his hardest not to think about the events of last night. Just as his frustration was slipping his mind, he heard footsteps entering the room. 
“Hi,” he offered roughly, not bothering to look up from his waffles as he could sense that it was you.
“Hey, pretty baby.”
Bucky choked on air and dropped the syrup bottle onto his plate, regrettably spilling half the container onto his now soggy waffles.
“Wh—what?” he tried to compose himself, eyebrows pinched in shock and confusion as he finally looked up at you.
“Pass me that peach, won’t you? I’m famished.” You slid onto a seat at the counter that Bucky was on the other side of, and pointed to the fruit bowl to his right.
Bucky, suddenly too stunned to speak, wordlessly handed you the peach. Only after watching you take a couple of bites did he find his words again. 
“What’s up with you?” He asked, suspicion lacing his tone.
“A girl can’t be hungry?” You wiped some juice from your mouth with the back of your hand and tilted your head innocently.
“What are you wearing?” His gaze shifted to your glamorous outfit, one he was shocked that you owned. He had never seen you dressed up so much. 
“Oh, this?” You glanced down at your scarlet silk slip dress and set your peach on the counter. “Just a little something I found buried in the back of my closet. Do you like it?” You stood and gave him a little spin. 
Bucky blushed and snapped his mouth shut, wondering how long he had his jaw dropped. Before Bucky could process what was happening, you had made your way in front of him and grabbed his vibranium arm.
“Stunning,” you breathed, inspecting it like you’d never really noticed it before. Bucky continued to stare as you laced your fingers, of which were adorned by many rings, with his metal ones. You held it up appreciatively.
Bucky swallowed as his gaze found your wrist. “That’s Tony’s watch.”
“I found it. Shiny, right? He won’t miss it.” You giggled, continuing to ogle his hand.
Bucky began to utter your name, but the word was cut off by your pointer finger meeting his lips, effectively shushing him. 
“Don’t call me that,” you ordered, and Bucky could sense your hostility, though it was quickly fading.
“You mean your name?” He mumbled once your hand receded.
“Call me Honey.” You grinned, voice smooth and silky again.
“Why?”
You brought his metal hand up to hold your cheek and used your other hand to gently grab his chin. Bucky could’ve sworn your eyes had a subtle gold sheen. You watched his pinched brows rise as you guided his lips to yours. The kiss lasted no more than three seconds before you pulled away, smirking at the way he gawked.
“Because I’m sweet?” You brazenly offered, leaving him a final kiss on his stubbled cheek. “I’ll see you later,” you smiled and walked away without glancing back once.
Bucky stood dazed, jaw loosely open again, blue eyes wide. Snapping himself out of it, he looked at the clock. 9:32. Bucky was certain you first walked in at 9:20. How long had he been standing there alone in shock? 
He whipped his head around the room for any hidden cameras or even a sign that he had imagined the whole thing. Maybe he was daydreaming? But his eyes fell onto the half-eaten fruit abandoned on the counter, and he subconsciously licked his lips. 
A subtle peach flavor lingered on his tongue.
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“You’re seriously telling me you haven’t noticed anything off about her?” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest as he watched Sam stretch for his run.
“I’ve hardly seen her lately,” Sam mumbled, bent over and touching his toes.
“She kissed me.”
“Ha, sure.” 
“Sam, she kissed me.”
“Wait,” Sam shot upwards and nearly tripped from the movement, “you’re serious? When? Why?”
“This morning. I don’t know why. She was acting—I don’t know! Weird!” 
“I would say kissing you is a solid indication of weirdness.”
Bucky ignored his comment.
“I swear, I saw her eyes glow…or shimmer, or something,” he added, looking off distantly.
“Cool it, loverboy,” Sam laughed.
“No,” Bucky grabbed Sam’s shoulder, tired of not being taken seriously, “I mean literally glow. Like, gold.”
“Where is she now?”
“Not sure.”
“Okay, well as long as she’s not hurting anybody I’m sure it’s nothing to be too concerned about. Maybe she’s wearing colored contacts? It’s a thing now.”
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The next day Bucky knocked on your door. You opened it, and Bucky was surprised to see you covered in triple the amount of jewelry you had yesterday. Gold and silver bangles lined your arms, countless rings covered your fingers, and you even had some shiny new clips in your hair. He did notice that you still only had on a single necklace, the same golden topaz pendant you had yesterday.
“Hello, pretty boy.” You greeted, voice sickeningly sweet.
“Where did you go last night?” Bucky asked, straight to the point. He was more worried than ever now with your late-night adventures.
“Why? Worried I was with someone? Don’t be jealous, Darling.”
“You’re not in your right mind,” he said, catching the way your eyes shone again.
“My mind is perfectly clear, Sarge.” You smiled and shook your head at him like he was a child.
“I really don’t think so, ‘Honey’. Until yesterday, I wouldn’t have described you as a kleptomaniac.”
“It’s not a crime to like shiny things.” You laughed like he was the one being preposterous. 
“But it is a crime to steal them. Cough it up.” Bucky snapped his fingers and held his hand out. He knew none of them were yours, and he wondered how many unsuspecting strangers you managed to con.
“You’re such a tease.” You tried but saw that he wasn’t going to budge. “Ugh, fine.”
One by one, you removed your collection from your body, starting with your diamond earrings. Bucky continued to place the jewelry in his many jacket pockets as you handed them over.
“Tony’s watch, too,” he chided when he noticed you made no effort to remove it. You gave a dramatic huff and unclasped it.
You had given him everything except the necklace and he was getting impatient. 
“You’re being a child, give me the necklace—”
“No!” You screamed and swatted away his hand as it stretched toward your neck. “Don’t you fucking touch it.” You snarled.
“Jesus—” He nearly pissed his pants, he had never seen you so aggressive.
“I keep the necklace.” It was not a question.
“Fine.”
“You can leave. You’ve stolen my joy.” Your sultry and sweet demeanor had completely vanished, leaving you with a cold stare. 
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It was clear the instant you bared your teeth at him that the necklace was the culprit of your personality transplant and gilded eyes. 
The big question was how was he going to get it off of you? And would taking it off of you be enough to fix you?
And does he even want to?
I mean, you are much nicer to him this way…
God, stop it Bucky! She needs your help. Start thinking with your brain.
Bucky cooked up a plan, and it involved more jewelry.
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“I come with a peace offering.” Bucky knocked on your door, not too differently than how he did the day before.
“What is it?” You asked, cracking the door open in curiosity.
Bucky gave an awkward smile and held up a gold necklace he got Natasha to lend him.
“Oh my God, it’s magnificent,” you cooed, opening the door fully to let him in.
You had a one-track mind.
“Do you want me to help you put it on?” Bucky offered, hoping it would be that easy to fix you. It was simple—trade your cursed ‘voodoo doodoo’ necklace for a normal one.
“I’ll wear it later…I like the one I have on now.” You nodded, protectively clutching the golden gem.
Okay, so not as simple as he’d hoped.
“Fair enough. It is very pretty.”
“I know.” You smirked and took a seat on the side of your bed.
Bucky did his best to casually sit next to you.
“Where can I get one?” He asked, eyes lingering on your black skirt.
“You like shiny things too, handsome?” You asked, walking your fingers teasingly up his arm.
“Sure.” He suppressed a shiver as your fingers got closer to his neck.
“I hate to burst your bubble,” you laughed, bringing your hands to cup the pendant, “but this necklace is one of a kind.”
“And how did you get your hands on it?” He asked, trying to keep his voice light enough that you wouldn’t suspect his ulterior motive.
You bit your bottom lip as you thought of whether to tell him. You rolled your eyes playfully, “I’ll tell you a little, but only because you’re so cute.”
Cute? Fuck, you might be more fucked up than he thought if you’re thinking he’s cute.
“Someone hired me a couple of weeks ago to find it. I guess they were a fan, familiar with my investigative research before joining your ‘big league’ Avengers. I did a lot of work to find this puppy.” Your eyes only seemed to glow brighter when you stared at it. 
Bucky knew he had to play this safe. If he took the immediate hostile route of ripping the necklace off of you, he’d be risking it failing, and then you wouldn’t trust him again. He realized he needed to give you another reason to get close to him, and his next thought made his cheeks warm.
“Why are you getting so blushy, soldier? Do I make you nervous?” You giggled.
“More than you realize,” he chuckled and let his gaze fall to his feet.
“You are just the sweetest thing. I’ve always taken a liking to you.”
“You have?” Bucky swung his head to you at your disclosure.
“How could I not?”
Come on Bucky. You can do this. Be a man.
You’re doing this for her. You’re doing this for her. You’re doing this also a little bit for yourse— no, you’re doing this for her!
“Can I kiss you?” He rushed, his voice only cracking once.
“You don’t need to ask, sweet thing.”
Bucky took a deep breath and closed his eyes, not wanting to see your distorted honey eyes bore into his. He leaned forward, met your plush lips, and slid one hand to your shoulder. One second you’re kissing, and the next he’s yanking the chain from your neck so quickly that you barely had time to scream.
The impact of his effort left you falling onto the floor and clutching your neck, heaving like you’d just come up for air after being underwater for much too long.
Bucky called your name and fell to his knees beside you, instinctively putting a hand on your back to console you.
“Hey, you’re okay! You’re okay,”
You looked up from the carpet into his worried eyes and let out a sharp sob. 
“I don’t—I don’t even know what—” your stutters quickly dissolved and with a gasp, your hands flung from your neck to your mouth as if you couldn’t believe what you’d done. “Oh, Bucky, I’m so—I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay, I know it wasn’t you,” he rushed, simply wanting that look off of your face.
“Stupid, so stupid,” you sputtered, and he couldn’t tell if you were referring to yourself or the necklace.
“Where did you get this?” Bucky asked, lifting the cursed pendant that he had yet to drop.
“A boat wreck just off the coast,” you said, itching at your neck.
“So that’s why your hair was wet…and someone’s been paying you? To find this?”
You nodded your head and pushed back the hair that fell into your face.
“Who?” Bucky gently grabbed your jaw to get you to look at him. “Why do they want it?”
“I don’t know, some art collector? They didn’t give me a name." You winced. "Can you please get that thing out of my sight? It’s making my head hurt.”
He glanced at the necklace, “Of course, I’m sorry,” and tossed it behind him.
You sat quietly for a moment, just thinking. You groaned and began to stand up. Bucky quickly offered his assistance.
“Buck, can we do this another night? I really just need to…I need to sleep this off I think.”
He quickly nodded, secretly embarrassed at being essentially kicked out, and shuffled to the door. Just as he was about to close it behind him, you called for him to wait. 
Confused, he turned to see you racing up to him. You stood, gave a shy grin, and leaned in to give him a light kiss on the cheek. 
“Thank you,” you whispered. "For saving me."
A chill crawled up Bucky’s spine. 
He barely caught the golden glint in your eyes.
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A/N: Maybe I should've spent longer on this, but I just got to the point where I felt like I needed to just post it. Please let me know if you liked it!
My Masterlist
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image 1 image 2 image 3
*I edited using good ol' picsart
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oncasette · 1 year ago
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𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗦 (𝗦𝗢 𝗗𝗢 𝗜)
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KINKTOBER ACT II, eric northman x fem!reader
summary: 2.7k
“You smell fucking amazing,” he groans and his teeth drag against your pulse point. Before you can make any sort of comment on that, you feel his teeth puncture into your skin just as two of his fingers sink into your cunt. His incredibly long and devastatingly thick fingers that are already stretching you out as they slowly thrust in.
or the one where eric has a specific taste for blood. yours.
warnings: not beta’d, smut, significant age gap (eric is like 1000, r is early 20s), dub-con, mind control on the low, blood drinking, high sex (eric's blood/v), smoking
masterlist | taglist | kinktober
When vampires had first come out of the coffin, you’d been barely above the age of seventeen, and their integration into the mainstream had been a whirlwind you’d been utterly unprepared for. Being from the south, your parents had instilled a deep sense of distrust in your fanged counterparts. Or, in your own words, fear. 
Your parents had nearly tried to keep you out of college because of it, claiming you’d be much safer here at home, but you’d nipped that in the bud fairly quickly. Still, that didn’t mean you were going to let it slip to them where you were going on your evenings spent at home over the summer. All they needed to know is that you’d be home in the morning. 
Your friends had been begging you to go to this bar across town with them for ages. They’d been going for years, but, being the only one in the group not willing to get a fake ID, you’d been left out of all the fun. Now, though, that you were over the legal drinking age, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to check it out seeing as your friends seemed to like it so much. Or, as you came to find out, seeing as they apparently liked the owner so much. 
“You’re gonna freak when you see him,” Rachel says, looking over at you from the driver’s seat. You’d been friends with Rachel for forever, longer than you can remember. She’d gone off to school somewhere in the northeast–a liberal arts college with less than two thousand total students–and it’d been ages since you’d last seen her. 
“I don’t get what’s so special about him?”
“Are you kidding me?” Rachel squeaks. “About Eric fucking Northman?”
Anyone who’d been west of Baton Rouge knew the name Eric Northman. It was undeniable. Someone could whisper the name in a corner of a packed ballroom, and a hush would fall over the crowd. 
And, yet, somehow, despite living in Shreveport since your conception, it hadn’t crossed your path. 
“Yeah?” you drawl. “He’s probably just some guy.”
“Some guy,” Gina scoffs. 
“He’s quite literally the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen,” she says as she fiddles with her engagement ring. “He’s a fucking god.”
“Sure,” you say, rolling your eyes. 
It isn’t much longer before you’re pulling into a shady parking lot behind a vacant liquor store. There’s a couple other cars in the lot, mostly what your father would call shit-boxes that have either been sewn together with duct tape or have bumpers that have been left to drag the ground. Slamming the passenger door shut, you reach into the pocket of your jacket to take out the pack of cigarettes, stamping one on your bottom lip as you dig further in the pocket to find your lighter.
Your friends have already walked across the lot to step into line when you finally get a light, shoving your materials back into your jacket as you jog over to where they are at the back of the, thankfully, fast-moving line. 
“Really?” Rachel asks. 
“Just be glad I didn’t do it in the car, okay.” You offer a squint of your eyes in a pseudo smile. 
“Whatever,” she sighs. 
The bouncer lets the three men in biker jackets ahead of you in and stops to examine you. She seems to recognize your friends and nods at them to follow the men, only to stick a manicured hand out in front of your chest as soon as you take a step. 
“I’m with them,” you huff, tapping the ashes out of your cigarette. 
“Sorry, sweetie. I’m gonna need to see some ID,” she drawls. The sweetie comes out in a sharp bite that has you taking a step away from her outstretched arm. She grabs the butt from between your lips and stamps it out beneath her stiletto’d heel.
“Fine,” you say. Digging in the other pocket of your jacket, you grab your wallet and hand over your driver's license. You’re thankful you’d just recently gotten your ID updated and have the horizontal one now, or you’re sure she would’ve kept you back. Where, you’re also sure, your friends would have left you to sit for the rest of the night. 
“Have a good night,” she says, handing it back to you and allowing you to step into the crimson bar. As soon as you’re through the door, you dig your pack out and light a new cigarette. Bitch. 
Your eyes gravitate toward the stage. A very large throne sits to the side of it, flanked by two overgrown men with their eyes scanning the small dance floor at the foot of the stage. The man in the throne is bigger. Much bigger. Large to the point that he dwarfs the chair you think would swallow you whole. You watch as he sits up, spine straightening as he looks the crowd over. 
You don’t think anything of it until his gaze falls on you. He seems to smile, and it’s then that you see the sharp canines extending out of his gums. 
You suppose coming to a vampire bar should’ve made you mentally prepare to come into contact with a vampire or two. 
The man on the throne appears before you in an instant, fangs retracted as he gives you a softer smile than he’d had previously. It unnerves you, still, with the way his eyes seem glazed over and his body hovers over yours. You glance back at the stage, eyes flickering nervously back and forth as if it’d just been a trick of the lights and you’d catch him lounging there again if you blinked hard enough. 
“You are… a pretty thing, aren’t you,” he says, voice growling in a register lower than you’d been expecting. It sends a shiver down your spine. He’s tall. Frighteningly, inhumanly tall in a way that has you cowering beneath him. Even seeing him on the stage before, it’s much more shocking up close. “It’s a shame you feel the need to taint it with that.”
He gestures to the stick between your lips with a flippant gesture, plucking it from your mouth to stamp it beneath his boot. What’s with everyone stealing your cigarettes tonight?
“Hey-”
“Still,” he leans down until his nose is inches away from your jaw and inhales. You don’t have the time to push him back before he’s returned to his full height. 
“Who the fuck are you?” you ask, attempting to take a step back only to bump into one of the bustling–and fairly sweaty–bodies behind you. The man raises his brow in surprise. 
“My, my,” he says. “Coming all the way out to my little bar and you treat me this way?”
“Eric,” you exhale. Your friends were right. He’s beautiful. 
“And you are?” You give him your name in a huff. 
“Follow me,” he says.
“I don’t know-” His fingers come up beneath your chin to tilt your face so that you’re like him in the eye. Something swirls within them, something you can’t place. You do your best to ignore the dull throb emanating beneath your dress. 
“Follow me.”
Your legs seem to move of their own accord, hand reaching up to take his as he leads you across the dingy floor towards a door beside the bar. You dodge bodies crumpled together between tables and chairs and slink behind him as he nods at a bouncer guarding the door. Once it’s open, he gestures for you to enter first. 
It’s a small office looking room. Various pictures and files line the walls and every surface is drowned in boxes and other small objects. You don’t have the time to get a good look at any of them, though, before Eric is spinning you to face him once again. 
You can see the way his lips twitch as you meet his gaze, nostrils flared. His hand lands on your shoulder, dragging down the side of your arm as goosebumps sprout in its wake. You want to blame it on the fact that he’s freezing, on the fact that he’s got fangs. On the fact that he owns this whole bar and now you’re standing in his office with the door locked. Not on the fact that he’s probably got decades of experience. Or, god forbid, centuries. 
“Why did you bring me here?” you ask. It comes out in a whisper, voice hoarse from swallowing hard. Breath hitching, your knees do their best not to buckle as Eric steps into you, forcing you back until your ass hits the edge of his desk. His leg comes to press between your thighs. With a nudge, his knee would be pressing directly against you, and you’re thankful he gives you the space. You inch up the desk until you’re halfway sitting on it. There’s no reason for you to be as hot as you are right now, and less of a reason for him to know about it so soon. Honestly, he can probably smell it on you. 
“Why do you think I brought you back here?” he asks, hands falling against your thighs. There’s no pressure, just their presence. 
“I don’t fuck random guys in bars,” you say. 
He stalls, hands crawling up to rest on your hips. 
“I’m the owner.”
“So I was right,” you say. “You lured me back here just to fuck me.”
He hums. You can’t tell if it's in agreement. His knee presses into you fully and you hope he chooses not to comment on how you’re pulsating against it. 
“Would you like that?” he asks. He brings his hands down again, this time to the hem of your dress. He begins to push up. Slowly. Oh, so slow, you barely register it until it’s bunched up at the tops of your thighs. You’re not sure why you nod. You think if asked you at a different time, a second before or after, you would have shaken your head and allowed him to lead you back out to the patrons, to your two friends who would lose their minds if they knew where you were right now. 
His mouth finds yours as he pushes your dress the rest of the way up. You can feel the way you’re leaving a damp spot against his pants and try not to whimper as he applies more pressure with his knee. You don’t succeed in that venture. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss. It’s not nearly as rough as you had expected it to be, but it’s far from soft. His tongue is in your mouth, licking at the flats of your teeth. His fingers dig into your skin as he thumbs at the seam of your panties, pressing it to the side enough to gather the wetness coating your slit and drag it up to your clit. Your hips jump against him. 
He disconnects your lips to trail his kisses down the dies of your face and down your neck. Pulling back, he draws your eyes up to look, and the dark swirl from earlier returns. “Don’t scream,” he says. “Unless it’s my name.”
Before he re-attaches himself to your neck, you watch as his fangs click out, and you feel the cold rod of fear as it slides down your spine. 
“You smell fucking amazing,” he groans and his teeth drag against your pulse point. Before you can make any sort of comment on that, you feel his teeth puncture into your skin just as two of his fingers sink into your cunt. His incredibly long and devastatingly thick fingers that are already stretching you out as they slowly thrust in. 
“Eric,” you squeal. You’re already dizzy, his tongue laving at the skin of your neck. Finally, he pulls back and you feel seconds away from passing out. His fingers are still inside of you, massaging your walls. His free hand comes up to his mouth, and you watch as his fangs pierce the skin there and he’s holding his bloody palm up to your mouth. 
“Drink,” he says. You oblige and suddenly you’re dizzy in an entirely different way. Every touch feels heightened, every item in the room seems to glow, and Eric truly, honestly, looks like a fucking god. The open wound on your neck stops aching and you swear you feel the holes close up. 
“Eric, please,” you whine. He tugs your panties down first, balling them up in his fist and tossing them somewhere behind his desk. Then his belt comes undone and he’s yanking his pants down just enough to pull his cock out of the confines. And if you thought his fingers were big before. 
“That’s not gonna fucking fit,” you gasp. He jerks himself until he’s fully hard. 
“Trust me, sweetheart. It will,” he says as he notches himself against your entrance. 
“No, I swear, you’re gonna rip me in half!” “Trying hard not to do that, already,” he says. He pushes in with one solid thrust. Even only halfway in, you can feel him in your throat. “Feel even better than you taste.”
Your ankles link around his back and your feet dig into his ass in an attempt to get him to move, to push into you until you can feel his pelvis against yours. He does. One thrust, then an agonizing pull back before he slams back in. 
Every part of you trembles as his pace picks up. 
“Oh my god? Oh my god,” you squeak. 
“Just me,” he quips and his head falls back. He’s fucking you at a superhuman speed, hips snapping into yours with so much force you think he’s close to bruising your cervix. And still. It feels good. It feels so fucking good. Every touch leaves you tingling and you think you’re going to explode with his hand finding your clit again. He pushes your legs open wider, allowing him to press into you further. 
You’ve never been this wet in your life. Not with your vibrator, not with any of your boyfriends, not even with the one you swore you were in love with when you were a sophomore in college. The squelch of his cock driving into you rings in your ears and you don’t think you’ll ever forget the sound. A coil within you begins to wind tight, your body on the precipice of turning into jelly in Eric’s hold. 
“I want you to cum for me, sweetheart,” he growls and it’s enough to send you flying. You clench around him, walls fluttering and throbbing as you feel his dick twitch in you. 
As soon as you’ve regained your consciousness enough to offer him a weak smile, he’s pulling out of you and spinning you around so that the front of your hips are against the desk. He thrusts into you swiftly once more, never once faltering from the ruinous pace he’d started up previously. Your back arches into the desk. Your pussy feels raw, overstimulated, melting into the pleasure he’s driving into you. Another orgasm is sure to follow. And quickly. 
“You are mine, whether you agree to it or not,” he growls. His thrusts begin to grow sloppy, cock twitching with every pump of his hips. With a final push in, he cums and offers you the first bit of warmth he’s been able to give you all night. You fall down the same rabbit hole moments later. Your entire body twitches as you do and you can barely feel anything as he pulls out of you. 
He gives you a minute to catch your breath, to gather yourself and spin around to face him as you tug your dress back down your thighs. You’re panting, still, as he wipes the semi-dried blood off of your neck and brings it up to his lips to lick clean. 
“No more cigarettes,” he says. “I can’t wait to see how you taste when you’re… pure.”
“I don’t know if I can promise that,” you say. 
“You will.”
He grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. 
“Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” he says. “I’ll be seeing you.”
He’s gone before you can ask what he means by that. 
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starkeyisthelastname · 8 months ago
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It’s Always Been You Chapter One
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Okay.. so here is the first chapter of my first series. Things will get more exciting! Hope you loves enjoy! 🥰 Things are a little different in this universe and don’t necessarily follow the exact OBX plot line. Here is the back plot for anyone who missed!
Back Plot
Rafe is a total dick to other girls, you’ve been warned. 😅
Chapter One:
The girl below him, whose name he couldn’t remember, let out a loud moan as he shoved himself inside her entirely. He pressed her head down into the mattress, telling her to shut the fuck up. He closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling of her cunt as he tried to get a quick nut in that night. It had been a long work week, and tonight he needed a distraction from wanting to go out and get wasted. It was when he was mid stroke that his phone rang on the bedside table. He went to ignore it, but eyes glanced over the caller ID to see it read your name.
“Hey slut, listen to me. Don’t make a fuckin sound when I answer this..” Rafe spat, smacking the girl’s ass hard before sliding his thumb across the screen to answer.
You had plans to go out that night with some friends, but now we’re laying in bed with your makeup done, pajamas on as they had changed their minds, leaving you alone on a Saturday night. As you held your phone up to your ear, you heard the voice of your best friend answer after a few rings.
“What’s up?” He asked, hips not slowing down as he continued to thrust into the girl. “Club doesn’t sound too busy?” He laughed, hearing the sound of a tv in the background.
You were completely oblivious to Rafe having company, and if you did know then you would have probably shut yourself down tonight not wanting to think about all the girls he constantly was fucking that weren’t you. It was your own fault really, but he had been your best friend since before you two knew what that even meant. You couldn’t ruin your lifelong friendship by telling him you’d been in love with him since you both were teenagers.
“The girls changed their minds, don’t ask me why either because I don’t even know.” You laughed, as you were sure it had to do with one of them wanting to see their boyfriend instead. “But… can you come over? I’m bored… and can you bring food?” You asked with a soft giggle. It was when you heard a faint moan in the back, that your heart sank. That wasn’t his tv, and you knew it by the name Rafe being followed. “I-I’m sorry.. I didn’t know you were busy. Um.. just text me later.” You said, clearing your throat as the last thing you wanted was for him to hear the sad tone in your voice. It was best you hang up the call and quickly.
Rafe barely had time to respond, before the call ended. His thrusts completely came to a stop, no longer caring about his nut as he tossed his phone on the bedside table and pulled out. “Get your shit and get the fuck out of my house.” He said, voice cold as he grabbed his sweatpants from the floor. He hated himself for doing this. Meaningless hook ups to avoid how he felt about his best friend, and his anger only grew as he would have completely dropped this whiny bitch to go over to your place in a heart beat.
The girl sat on the bed, frown on her face as she watched Rafe pull the grey sweatpants over his toned hips and grabbed his vape off the dresser to take a hit of. “B- but, I didn’t cum.” She said with a pout, only to earn a mean laugh from the man that had been inside her the only moments before.
“I told you to the shut the fuck up when I was on the phone, think I care that you didn’t get to cum? Better be out of here by the time I get out of the bathroom.” Rafe said causally, walking towards his connected bathroom, not carrying that she mumbled asshole under her breath.
He was an asshole, always had been. That stemmed from some deeper issues that he didn’t talk about often. The only ones who knew about his mental health problems were his family and you, something no random girl would ever understand. He sighed, running a hand through his hair before slamming his fist on the marble counter of the sink. Why was he continuing this torture on himself? Why was he such a pussy about telling you how he felt?
You heard the beep of the alarm, signaling someone had unlocked the front door. There was only a few people who knew the code, your parents, Sarah, Wheezie and Rafe. Walking down the stairs of your townhome, you saw his tall figure stepping in quietly, a bag of food in his hand. You took a sigh, stepping onto the hardwood floor as you looked at him. You wanted to be mad at him, but you couldn’t. There was no reason to be. Right? He was just doing what Rafe Cameron did.
“What are you doing here? I thought you had your little girlfriend over.” You asked, trying to hide the obvious jealousy in your voice. Your fuzzy slippers glided over to where he stood, taking the food sack from him and turning around to head into the living room. You heard him chuckle behind you, but didn’t look back as you plopped yourself onto the couch.
“Not my fucking girlfriend.” Rafe snorted, throwing his keys on the coffee table. “You know I don’t do serious shit.” He said, collapsing down next to you as you pulled the food out from the bag. He didn’t do committed relationships as he was far too busy working at his father’s company, trying his best to become the man he needed to be. In an out of jail, high off blow and after nearly killing someone, he was trying to do right for the people he loved and more importantly himself. The only committed relationship he was willing to be in was with you, that was if he ever manned up enough to tell you.
As you unwrapped your food, you couldn’t help but feel your heart clench at that statement. For as long as you’d known Rafe he’d never dated anyone longer than a month. He was too selfish to be tied down and after everything he had went through during his coke fiend, you knew his focus was work and trying to stay clean. You just wondered if he would ever want anything serious when it came to you.
“And you really thought that bitch was important enough for me to skip coming to hang out with my best friend?” He asked, stealing a fry as he leaned back against the cushion.
Best friend.. and that’s all you would probably would ever be to him. You brushed the thought away, slapping his hand away as he started to reach for another fry. “Why didn’t you just get something if you planned on stealing my food?” You asked with a laugh as he pretended to look hurt that you slapped his hand.
Rafe always seemed to have a stick up his ass for the most part, a brooding look constantly on his handsome face. You knew it was hard for Rafe to let down the wall of being vulnerable, or even his funnier side. You felt lucky that you got to see the side of him that not a lot of people got to experience.
“I just wanted a couple, damn. It’s the least I can get for waiting in that long ass line for some damn chicken strips.” He scoffed, muttering about how the worker was an asshole anyway.
You rolled your eyes, taking a bite of one as he pulled his vape from the pocket of his hoodie to take a hit off. “Please tell me you aren’t gonna complain this much on family vacation.” You said, jokingly, meeting his blue eyes you loved so much as you looked up at him.
Blowing out the cloud of flavorful smoke, he rolled his own eyes before leaning his head back against the couch. “Don’t fucking remind me, that my dad picked fucking Disney World of all places.” He said with a grumble, shuddering at the idea of all the kids he was going to have to be around for 7 days.
It had been a tradition every summer for as long as you could remember that both of your families took a trip together. The first one of this year being Disney World, which you were excited for. Rafe on the other hand would rather go anywhere else than the happiest place on earth.
“Wheezie’s been begging to go for years and we’ve always gone elsewhere. Let your sister be happy.” You said, knowing the thirteen year old hardly got to choose anything that she wanted to do as she was the youngest out of everyone.
“She’s 13. Don’t you think she’s a little old for Mickey Mouse or some bullshit.” Rafe said, eyes traveling back to you. The way you looked so effortlessly beautiful, having washed your face free of makeup. Your hair on top of your head in a messy bun, and cute little set pink pajama set on that hugged those gorgeous curves. He wanted to groan, not only from the thought of leaving for Orlando in a few days but also that he wanted you more than anything he ever wanted in his life. Rafe pretty much got whatever his heart desired, except having you as his girl.
“You are never too old for Disney.” You told him, matter of factly as you continued to eat, completely clueless to the fact his cerulean eyes were bored into you as he watched you.
Rafe let out a small chuckle, shaking his head at the fact you and everyone else seemed to be thrilled about visiting a place he didn’t find so magical. “Are you that excited princess?” He asked, the nickname one you were used to but still felt butterflies when he said it.
Swallowing a bite, you looked up at him to meet his gaze with a nod to your head. Disney was the place where dreams came true and maybe there you would finally have the courage to tell your best friend that you were in love with him.
tag list: @alinavalentine
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goldenempyrean · 7 months ago
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Hi there! If you are still taking them id love to request a fic where the avengers are bantering/teasing Natasha because she supposedly never gets sick but a little while later R finds her crying and thinks its because the guys have upset her but its really because she feels so terrible.Maybe including Baby, I think this is more than just the sniffles and Oh my god you’re completely burning up. Sorry if this is too specific I just think it would be so cute
You're My World
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〚 Notes - Wow, its been a while. I haven’t written Nat in so long, finally getting this request done <3 〛
〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛
〚 Summary - Nobody really believes it when Natasha gets ill but there’s always going to be one person thats always there for her. 〛
〚 Wordcount - 2100 〛
〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙
╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝
“Afternoon sunshine, and just what time do you call this?” The voice of Tony called out with a small chuckle, raising his eyebrows from behind a mug of coffee.
“Lay off her Stark.” You bit back, shooting him a glare and came over to where your girlfriend had shuffled into the room. She was leaning against the doorframe, her pale complexion a sharp contrast to her messy red curls.
You put down your own coffee and came to her side, hand reaching up to cup her cheeks, “Morning baby,” You murmured, kissing her forehead gently before taking her hand and leading her over to sit by the kitchen island, “You still not feeling good?”
The two of you had been cuddled in bed together last night when she’d complained of being extra tired and after some gentle encouraging, she’d eventually admitted that she’d had a growing sinus headache for most of the day.
When you’d woken up that morning, Natasha had still been asleep, still curled up in your arms. Usually, she was up before the sun had even risen, getting in a workout or simply just enjoying her morning. After some careful consideration you decided it would be best to let her sleep in, so you’d carefully detached yourself from her arms and pulled the blanket back over her before silently tiptoeing out from the room.
Natasha shook her head, “I think I’m getting a cold.” She mumbled glumly, letting her head fall onto your shoulder as you sat down beside her. She stayed like that for a moment before falling into a painful sounding coughing fit.
“Baby, I think this is more than just the sniffles,” You sighed sympathetically in response, “You wanna head back to bed? I can bring you some water and something to eat?”
“Heading back to bed? At this time in the afternoon?” Tony interrupted with a playful scoff as she jumped up to sit on the countertop. He looked at you then Natasha before whistling through his teeth, “You, Miss Romanoff, look like shit.”
“Shut up Stark.” It was too early to be dealing with his shenanigans. Natasha just rolled her eyes, judging it best to simply ignore him, “And just for the record, it’s barely 10am. No idea what world you live in where that’s considered afternoon.”
"That's probably the world where Tony's been up since 4am tinkering with his latest suit," Steve chimed in, entering the kitchen with a knowing smile. He grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter and took a bite, eyes twinkling with amusement.
Natasha gave a weak chuckle which was quickly followed by a short cough into her elbow, rubbing a hand down the front of her throat. She swallowed and tried her best not to wince at the painful sensation which followed.
Of course you noticed. “I’ll grab you that water.” You rubbed her back gently for a moment before heading to the fridge.
“I didn’t even know you could get sick yknow.” Clint piped up, seemingly deciding to join in on the conversation. He’d previously been too engaged with trying to solve the children’s word search on the back of his brightly coloured cereal box.
She looked over towards him, “What do you mean?” Her eyes narrowed a little.
“I dunno.” He shrugged, “I just mean, I’ve never even seen you close to sick. Like when you had the gnarly shoulder cut that got infected, you didn’t even run a fever or anything like most people do.”
Tony pulled a face of disgust, “Barton, I really do not need to be hearing about gross shoulder gashes when I’m trying to enjoy my coffee, thank you very much.” Clint pulled a similar face to mock him before throwing a tea towel in his general direction, leading the two of them to start bickering at each other.
You’d just been handing your girlfriend the bottle of water when Bruce strolled in - adjusting his glasses and taking in the scene. "How come everyone's so chipper this morning," He asked dryly. "What's going on?"
"Romanoff’s caught the plague," Tony took a break from messing with Clint to speak in his most serious voice, earned several eyerolls from around the room, "But don't worry, Doctor Banner, I'm sure ‘Miss I Never Take Sick Days’ will pull through."
Natasha groaned, “God you’re such an asshole.” She sniffled, rubbing at her nose for a moment. Whatever itch she’d been trying to get rid of clearly hadn’t been listening because a second later she drew in a sharp breath and sneezed twice in quick succession.
It wasn’t exactly a dainty sound, like her usual sneezes rather harsher yet still somewhat feminine. Obviously, it was still adorable, but you couldn’t help but think now wasn’t the best thing to vocalise that.
Instead, you settled for a loving, “Bless you.” as you offered her a tissue from the box nearby. She mumbled a quiet thank you, dabbing at her nose. The teasing continued as you rubbed her back, trying to comfort her.
"Maybe she just needs more vitamins," Clint suggested with a smirk. "Or maybe a new suit of armour, Tony?"
"Please, like I'd let anyone else touch my suits," Tony replied, his voice dripping with mock horror. Natasha sneezed again, a little louder this time and he pointed over in her direction, “Plus there’s no way I’m letting someone that drippy inside one of my suits. I’m not in the mood to expose my lab to a walking biohazard.”
“You’re exhausting.” Natasha sniffled from behind a tissue. Her nose was starting to take on an irritated red twinge. She coughed again before clearing her throat roughly, “s’cuse me.”
You felt your gaze soften a little, “You’re okay sweetheart.” You spoke reassuringly, before offering an outstretched hand as you slid from your stool, “How ‘bout we head back up to bed, get you away from all the men-pheromones. They surely can’t be making you feel any better.”
It didn’t take much convincing for her to agree.
She accepted your hand gratefully as helped her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist to support her as you both walked back to your room.
Once back in your room, you gently guided her to sit on the edge of the bed. "How about I run you a nice relaxing bath?" You suggested, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. The subtle heat rising from her skin didn’t go unnoticed though, “Poor girl, you're completely burning up here, aren’t you?”
You made a mental note to take her temperature and get some medicine into her later. You knew she’d likely fight you about it, but that bridge could be crossed when it came to it.
In the current moment Natasha nodded, “A bath sounds nice.” Her voice was a little worse than earlier, a little more congested and scratchier.
“Okay, give me a few minutes and I'll get it ready," You said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before heading into the bathroom.
It didn’t take long to draw the bath. You methodically checked it to make sure it wasn’t too hot nor cold, even going as far to add a generous squirt of your berry-scented bubble bath. You weren’t entirely sure she’d be able to smell it but the clouds of fluffy bubbles covering the surface of the water certainly did the job. The steam began to rise, filling the room with a comforting warmth. You smiled to yourself and drew a little heart on the condensation-soaked mirror before heading back out to get Nat.
Natasha wasn’t where you’d left her. Instead, she was led down on the bed, curled up with her back facing the door. You knew she wasn’t asleep by her breathing, so you gently came to sit by her side, “Natty?” You murmured quietly, reaching out to stroke her back when you noticed the damp sniffles coming from her. She was crying.
“Oh baby, what’s up my love?” You were pulling her into your arms in an instant. She clung onto you; her body wracked with feverish chills. You knew fevers made her weepy, but this was different. Your poor baby was distraught.
The redhead sobbed for a little longer, before sniffling thickly, “I don’t know.” She managed to stammer out, wiping her eyes but fresh tears quickly came to replace them.
“Was it the boys earlier?” You scowled, “I know they didn’t mean harm but-“
She shook her head, looking more vulnerable than you’d ever seen her, "No, it's not that. I’m just- I just feel so exhausted... my whole-body hurts and I feel so ill." Her voice cracked as she tried to speak, blinking as your hand gently moved up to wipe away the tears streaming down her fave.
You wrapped her in a gentle hug, rubbing her back soothingly. "I know, sweetheart, I know. It's sucks to feel sick; I understand especially how hard it is when you’re not used to it either. You’re my world Natasha, so just let me look after you, alright?”
She nodded after a moment and you gave her a few minutes to let it all out, holding her until she was ready. Eventually the tears stopped, and she looked up you again, “I’m okay. I’m sorry I just lost myself for moment.” She leaned away from you as she cough harshly, her poor voice sounding even worse then earlier.
You rubbed her back until she managed to stop coughing and catch her breath, “You’ve got nothing to apologise for. You and fevers don’t go well as if we both know but if we’re being honest, I think you needed that, to just get all of that out. Sometimes its better to cry it all out.”
“It still sucks though.”
“I won't argue with that,” You couldn’t hold back a chuckle. She did have a point. “How about we get you in that bath now?”
The offer wasn’t refused and soon the two of you were cooped up in the bathroom. You found yourself kneeling down by the side of the tub as you gently washed her hair, running your hand through her damp red curls.
“How does that feel baby? The steam should help open up your sinuses a little.”
Natasha closed her eyes, a small sigh escaping her lips. "It feels good, really good." Her voice was softer now, a bit more relaxed as she leaned into your touch. You continued to gently massage her scalp, feeling the tension slowly melt away under your fingers.
You reached for the cup nearby, carefully rinsing the shampoo from her hair, ensuring none of it got into her eyes. "You're doing great," You murmured, placing a soft kiss on her temple.
She sniffled again, but this time it wasn't accompanied by tears. "Thanks for taking care of me," She whispered, her eyes meeting yours with a grateful look.
“Of course.” You smiled lovingly. The two of you continued the talk quietly as you continued to wash her hair. Nat had insisted she was okay to sit by herself but the way her eyes kept drooping closed didn’t have you convinced. Eventually the water began to turn cold, and it was time for her to get out.
There was a fluffy towel ready and waiting to be wrapped around her. You’d already laid out a fresh pair of matching pyjamas for you both to change into.
You helped her into the pyjamas, making sure she was warm and comfortable. As she settled onto the bed, you pulled the covers up around her, tucking her in gently. Natasha's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, but she opened them again, looking at you when she felt something being gently nestled into her hold.
Her small brown bear. Something only, you knew about. It brought her comfort when there was nobody else around, it was something you’d given to her before you’d gone on a long undercover mission. If anyone else knew how much it meant to her, she’d probably have to kill them. This was something only she could know.
"Do you need anything else my darling?" You asked quietly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face as you climbed beneath the covers beside her.
Rolling over to face you, Natasha buried her face in your chest, “Just you, only you.” She muttered before hiding a yawn against your shirt. You knew she’d be asleep soon and you began drawing random shapes down her back as she settled into your hold, her eyes fluttering closed as she fell into a gentle sleep.
It was true Natasha Romanoff didn’t get sick often but when she did? Well, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.
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