#bang! bang! slumber party

[fleuraimer]

Something with dumbification, please!! Anything from the smut starters would be amazing

oooh ok coming right up! kinda made my own prompt/au for this so hope u like nonnie <333

wc: 1.6k

cw: smut. minors dni. 17+. alcohol consumption. d/s dynamics. oral (m receiving). dacryphilia. degradation&dumbification kink. pet name bunny. pls lmk if i missed anything!!

Y/N never thought she'd find herself intertwined with the likes of a biker gang.

They say love makes people do crazy things, though.

"C'mere, Bunny!" Bucky shouts over the commotion swirling through his house, cold neck of a beer bottle clutched in his large, tattooed hand. She glances at him from her spot by the television, where she'd been conversing with the other girlfriends' and female members. Though, suddenly their once riveting topic of conversation is no longer interesting to her.

She knuckles out of her position sat between Peggy, Steve's girl, and Natasha, another member, on the couch with a half-hearted mumble of departure—a departure met with hootin' and hollerin' from her girls', cheering her on in her rousing endeavors. She throws them a desperate look over her shoulder, something that surely reads as please, shut the hell up. They snicker amongst themselves, but otherwise leave her be.

The excitement running through Y/N's body—butterflies with flower petals for wings, fluttering—blooming—soft in her stomach, strays squeezing their way into her throat, stuttering her words—is solely a product of the man beckoning her. She's practically skipping over to his place by the pool table, cue clasped in the hand not holding his beer.

Her enthusiasm is decidedly muted, no less—forcibly subdued—when her approach comes to stop in front of him, hands cradled behind her back, lashes fluttering with her demure gaze peering up at him from underneath. She bites her lip to suppress a giddy smile.

"Hi, Bucky," she mumbles to him as his fist—fingers still clutching the neck of the bottle—moves to her waist, along the side, up to the expanse of her back over her cherry red, tight blouses, through the space between her arms and arching back. He tugs her into him, making her stumble over her feet—legs like Bambi's, just like her eyes, button nose, and pretty, sweet lips—and fall into his chest. Her fingers unfurl from behind her back to swing in front and grip at his pecs, steadying herself there.

He smiles down at her, fond, "Hi, Bunny."

They're pulled from their little bubble when a hand shoves into Bucky's broad shoulder.

"C'mon, Dude, y'brought her over here to help us, not eye-fuck 'er in front of everyone," his pool partner, Sam, groans exasperatedly, though her throws Y/N a sly wink over Bucky's shoulder. She smiles, and shakes her head at his pointless antics.

Bucky sets his drink, harder than necessary, on the ledge of the pool table. Starts to turn, with this ridged, irate look in his eye that has Y/N bringing her hands up to keep his shifting shoulders facing her, not keen to wipe blood from his knuckles.

"He's teasin'," she whispers to him, right hand sliding up the thick of his neck, to his ticked jaw to cradle, thumb soothing over his chiseled cheek. He barely flits his gaze to her's before he's trying to spin out of her hold again—iron-clad, surprisingly, for someone so Bambi-like.

"He's fuckin'—"

"Teasin'," she says again, firmer this time. She brings his eyes back to her's, "What'd you need me for?" Bucky looks at her with that same indignant spark, merely dulled, and his shoulders sag with defeat.

"What was it y'was tellin' me 'bout the other day, the law of— 'f inflection?"

Y/N snorts, smile curling at the edges of her lips, but she can't help the flutter in her heart at his words. He'd been listening, remebered even—incorrectly, but, it's the thought that counts—what she was talking about when she'd been prattling on and on, mindlessly, about her latest physics assignment.

"The Law of Reflection?" She mutters up to him. He nods cartoonishly, and her smile widens. She reaches for his pool cue, "May I?"

He offers her the cue and then lifts his hands in surrender, smirk hinting at his mouth. "S'all yours, Bunny."

She takes the cue and turns on her heel to face the pool table, unfazed by the many eyes surrounding her, watching the game between Sam and Bucky, and Steve and Tony unfold.

"The Law of Reflection states that when light reflects off a smooth surface, the angle of reflection is equal to the angle of incidence," she assesses the position of each pool ball still sat on the table. "Stripes?" she mutters to her biker, getting a rumbling grunt in response. She nods, and bends to lean against the table, lining the cue up with a ball. "In other words, if you hit the ball into the ledge at a 60 degree angle—" she shuts one eyelid, focuses on the projection in her mind, mumbles just loud enough for those around her to hear, "—it should bounce back off at the same angle," and gives the ball a sure nudge. It rolls into the side of the pool table at said 60 degree angle, and bounces off the exact same way, opposite direction, directly into the middle left pocket. She smiles to herself, and stands to her full height, "Simple."

It was most certainly not simple, if the confounded looks gracing the faces of every biker listening to her mini lesson is anything to go off of. She only cares about one biker, though, and turns to face him immediately after finishing her presentation.

"Y'get it?" she chirps, going where Bucky guides her as he wraps his arm back around her waist, pulling the pool cue from her hand.

"Yeah, Bun, I got it," he smiles at her, pressing a kiss into her temple. He doesn't get it, but he knows if he drags her over here next week to do it all again, she'd explain it with that same pretty smile on her face. "Smart girl, is that what them fancy college courses been teachin' you?"

She smiles sheepishly, nods.

He drops his head down to her height, lips to the shell of her ear. "Tryna make me look stupid n'front 'f my boys?"

The deepness of the infliction of his tone—something reserved for her, dark and in need a satiating, raw and searching for a place to reside, a cave of refuge, a hole—heightens her senses and makes them all fuzzy in the same moment.

Her lashes flutter, eyelids suddenly heavy.

"N— No, Bucky! Never."

"Hmm," he hums, dismissive. The hand pressed to the small of her back slips lower, down to the swell of her plush ass, gripping, squeezing. "You'll jus' have't make it up t'me later, won't you, Bunny?" He knocks his knuckle under her chin, pool cue shifted as far from her face as possible, to make her look at him.

She nods, eyes flitting down to his soft lips. "Yes, Sir."

He pats her bottom twice, "Good girl, now go back there to y'girl's, Bunny, and sit pretty f'me."

——

On her knees, hands folded behind her back, with his cock shoved down her throat, is how she makes it up to him.

"Tell me, Bunny," he grunts, fingers dug into her scalp, dragging her mouth along his tongue, spit-slicked lips sucking, spit-soaked tongue petting, laving against the girth of his shaft, stretching the corners of her mouth, straining.

"Hmph hmm," she noises, eyes wet and lashes clumpy. He yanks her off with a stinging tug to her hair. Webs of drool cling from her mouth to the length of his cock as she pants, hiccoughs short breaths and claws into the flesh of her forearms. "Don' 'member, Sir," she whines, reaching to slip his cock back between her lips. He keeps her off by his grip in her hair, smirks all mean like when the tears bordering her lash line leak down to her rosy cheeks.

"Don' remember?" he croons, pressing a thumb past her parted lips. "C'mon, Bunny, think f'me—what happened to my smart girl?" She whimpers, melting into his hold, allowing him to move her—control her, like a puppeteer, fingers tangled in strings, steering their toy.

"Can't!" She cries after a brief moment of thought.

"Yes, you can," he groans, pulling her sweet, crying face into his cock, hips canting up to smear her pouting lips over the swollen, ruddy tip. "Tell me, Bun, tell me what y'been learnin' in all those fancy classes a'yours."

Her eyes roll back and her lashes flutter, tongue unfurling from her mouth, lapping at his hard cock. He moves a hand down to smack her cheek, not soft but not hard, just enough to bring her back.

"Fuckin' tell me, Bunny."

"Don' know!" she whines, lips downturned in a frown. "S'too hard, Sir, I don' know, can'— I can't—"

"Shh, shh shh," Bucky hushes her, reaffirming his grip in her scalp with one hand and fitting his other one to the curve of her jaw, bringing her back down on his cock, tip forced between her blubbering lips. He watches as the thick length of him disappears inside her soft, hot little mouth, groans long and low and deep as he sinks into her throat, head tossed back and Adam's apple bobbing as her button nose nuzzles into the sparse trail of hair at his navel. "Dumb Bunny," he mumbles sweetly as his head rolls forward, eyes fluttering to his smart, cockdrunk girl on her knees for him. "Little, useless thing, only good f'takin' m'cock in all y'tight holes, yeah?"

She gurgles something incoherent against him—mouth drooling, leaking over him, pooling at his full balls—that has his hips stuttering, cock forced farther (if that's even possible) down her throat while he moans from the vibrations of it, rocking through him, from the tip of his cock to the tips of his toes.

"Shit!" he curses, chest starting to shake with a soft laugh. "S'a good girl; forget y'fancy homework but y'always r'member how't suck m'cock, don'chu Baby?"

She nods from under his oppressing grasp on her hair.

He snorts, "Yeah, my dumb fuckin' bunny."

——

a/n: bang! bang! slumber party continues!! hope u like :))

not edited/proofread!!

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

Chan would me so much the type of soft Dom that would do that :

https://twitter.com/lixiesflower/status/1723322200046940312?t=ujHK9DjBehBe3gmrCX5fBA&s=19

🙈

@mykryptonitelight

Here's the link for readers:

Yeah, he really would be the type to tease you with eye contact...particularly if you're shy and your cheeks turn red whenever he stares at you so intensely.

Also when Chan has black hair, his Daddy energy just goes through the roof- I don't know why but when Chan has his dark hair, his dominant energy is just more potent and noticeable.

I think because Chris has a winter complexion so black hair is really the shade that enhances his complexion the most.

I will always be Team Brown/Black Curly Hair Bang Chan.

i believe in past Vlives he has mentioned he prefers having dark hair anyway, I mean he looks gorgeous with any hair colour but his dark hair for me brings out a beauty that the other hair colours don't.

Wow, I really went off-track with this ask but definitely the type to gently cup your chin with his thumb and say...

'why are you looking away? My eyes are here babygirl, don't be shy'.

Are you Team Blonde or Dark Haired Chan??

[baycitystygian]

He looks like he's gonna eat those chess pieces

yup

that scene lives in my head rent free purely for how goddamn pretty he is in it

I cannot put into words how Not Normal I am about this fucking vibe

[mossy-tendencies]

SLIGHTLY BELATED GIFT FOR @bellaleafdrawz OF MAIMS TMA OC AND SASHA JAMES!!!

i finished it On Time but i had sleepy boy disease so i couldn't post it.

my friend's oc is frances walker!! she/her for both these girlies, with walker bein' an end avatar that sings you all nice and sweet 'til you're dead <3

trans rights btw. lyrics and background inspo are from "slumber party" by ashnikko which. well i'll let you look at the lyrics yourself.

[vanilladaises-rp]

Emry glances Chan’s way with a little smile. “I think I do like him… yeah. Like I said, we’ve only had one date, but it was…” she pauses to think back on it. “Nice. It was really nice”. She turns away from Chan to pick out a drink for herself. She’s not sure what any of them are, so she just chooses an attractive looking cocktail.

The dark haired girl sweeps in and out of the conversation seamlessly. Emry watches her leave, wondering how someone can move that smoothly, but her attention is pulled away. “Huh? Oh yeah sure! It’d be nice to sit.

🍓

(I’ll let you choose. I trust you ☺️)

Jiwoo smiles leading you towards one of the loveseats in the Parlor room where fewer people were, including Chan. "So I hear you're new in town, I am too technically but I won't be staying here for long, I'm actually in school" She sighs "Not like that's important but I hope to graduate soon" Jiwoo chuckled knowing very well it was less likely since she is completely behind on her studies "Anyways tell me about you, I heard you like animals? It that why you're dating a dog?" She chuckled glancing back at Chan who could clearly hear her.

"That's it!" He growled under his breath, but Matt was quick to pull him back "Dude chill, she's clearly trying to get under your skin, and you heard Emry , she likes you!" He tried calming him down, even if seeing him so worked up over Emry was a bit comical to him. "Just stay here" He slight ordered him as his alpha instincts showed a bit.

"I know this is a bit forward but it's a slumber party" She smirked taking a sip of her drink "Have you ever been with a woman or ever considered it?" She questioned with a smirk and an arched brow. The questioned caught you off guard which caught the eyes of another female in the room. She was blond, wearing a white crop topped with jeans shorts that had rhinestones on them, her eyes narrowed at Jiwoo and watched closer for her next move.

(Okay cool! let me know if you have any ideas!)

[lovemomhatepolice]

a tiny accident(s) - lando norris

navigation taglist requests

pairing: lando norris x fem! reader

warnings: nose injury, blood, established relationship, drinking alcohol (lando), suggestive talks, nothing more, just lando being stupidly drunk lover, English is my second language!

type: fluff (a little bit suggestive)

word count: 2k

summary: when you feel unwell, but let your boyfriend alone at a party in Amsterdam, you definitely don’t think about what the consequences might be…

This wasn't the first time you've had a headache this week. It definitely wasn't. You had been plagued by terrible migraines for a long time, caused by stress and long-term travel from country to country. It was hard to switch from the Chinese air to that of the Netherlands, and you still had to travel to Miami, Italy and back to Monaco. All this in the span of one month. But what can you do? You were well aware of this when you met him and entered into a relationship with Lando. Travel, travel and more travel.

And so it was today, too. You and Lando arrived moments earlier in Amsterdam after racing in China and immediately got an invitation to a party. Oh, you knew very well how much Lando wanted to go there, so from the beginning you both assumed you were going and would have a great time. Well, unfortunately, fate willed that just today, an hour before the party you were attacked by a severe migraine relapse. Of course Lando wanted to stay with you - he always offers to do so, but you didn't have the heart to stop him and not let him go to the party, especially since you knew very well what helps you best with such ailments. Silence - and it definitely wouldn't have been there if the boy had stayed with you.

It wasn't long after he left that you totally drifted off and fell asleep on your apartment bed, wrapped in every possible layer with a cold cloth on your head. It wasn't long until you were roused from your slumber by the sound of the phone, which, despite your fondest dreams, didn't stop ringing after one time. “Holy shit,” you muttered under your breath, averting your eyes. You took the wet cloth off your forehead and put it down on the nightstand so as not to get the bed wet. You stretched slightly and grabbed your phone, which was vibrating on the nightstand. You unplugged it from the charger and, without even checking who was calling, you put it to your ear, waiting for the voice of the caller. “Hello?” You heard on the other end. It didn't take you long to figure out who the person banging on your phone was. “[Y.N], do you, do you hear me?”

“Um, yeah, yeah. Lando, is something wrong?” You asked slightly worried, recognizing well that the boy was already quite drunk.

You glanced at watch, which hung on the wall in front of you, and could see that it had been more than four hours since he had left, and it was beginning to get dark outside.

“I think I broke my nose.” He said, and you heard him snort softly through his nose. “Baby, what?” You asked, lifting yourself up on your shoulders.

You freed yourself from the quilt that enveloped you and got up on your feet. Now you didn't feel the earlier headache at all, only worry about the boy, who was somewhere in the middle of the Netherlands, drunk and with a supposedly broken nose.

“I think I broke my nose. I smashed it against broken glass.” He exclaimed in pain, and you could already imagine his glazed eyes.

“And do you know where you are now?” You asked, grabbing his car keys and jacket, which you quickly put on and left the room.

“Not very, but I'd like to eat cookies.” He cried out, speaking to you in a pleading voice.

“Excuse me?” You asked, placing the phone on your shoulder and putting your ear to it.

“Cookies. Please,” he muttered, at which you took a deep breath.

“Okay, we'll buy cookies, but tell me where you are.” You replied, shaking your head as you entered the elevator and chose the lowest floor, where the garages were.

“No, we won't buy. We'll make them” He replied, and you could imagine the grimace on his face. “Okay, we'll make them. Will you give me someone on the phone to tell me where you are?” You asked, and didn't have to wait long for an answer.

A good friend of Lando's, who seemed much more sober than your boyfriend, spoke into the phone and gave you the right location to come to. You quickly got into his car and merged into Amsterdam's traffic. It wasn't the first time you had driven his car, but you were definitely not a fan of being a driver. Mostly it was Lando who drove you everywhere and you felt damn safe with him in those cars. On your own, however, you preferred your calmer and rather larger car, which stayed in Monaco.

The road to the place where the party ship Lando was on was not very long. Especially since the navigation guided you with avoiding all the traffic jams that were associated with King's Day. As soon as you got there, you parked the car in a safe place and got out, searching with your eyes for your injured boyfriend.

Minutes later, you couldn't stand to laugh when you saw Lando sitting on the curb, half of his face wrapped in some kind of bandage, and there was an unnecessary crowd around him, through which you quickly made your way.

“Baby!” He muttered, rising abruptly to his feet, which made him wobble and catch the brick wall behind him.

“Lando, sunshine, what happened to you?” You asked, giggling under your breath, because his condition was pretty funny after all.

“I broke my nose!” He replied, stamping his foot. “Well, look.”

You heard, and just a second later the boy was in front of you, grabbing you firmly around the waist and directing your hand to his bandage. You carefully touched the material and twisted it to the side, being careful not to injure the boy.

“Lando silly, you don't have a broken nose. You scared me.” You replied, covering back his nose, which was not broken at all, but only slightly cut.

“Oh, but you don't know how it hurts me!” He howled, hugging your body to his. “Your hair smells nice.”

You laughed under your breath and, after extricating yourself from his grasp, grabbed his hand and led him out of the crowd. After all, he wasn't as drunk as you thought, so the way to the car wasn't long. Worse was convincing him to sit in the seat and not move too much so you could buckle him in.

“Lando, damn it, can you stop squirming like that? You're not going to drive without a seat belt!” You said, slightly resigned, when once again the boy evaded your touch.

“I like the way your hands go down there…” He muttered, guiding your hands closer to his crotch.

“Idiot,” you muttered, giggling under your breath, to which he also giggled and finally let himself be clasped.

The road to the apartment was quite quiet. You were stuck in traffic for a while, because this time it was not possible to get around them so agile. Lando, meanwhile, turned on the music on his radio and the two of you played a song together.

"You know what?" You heard it out of his mouth, and you gently nodded your head, not taking your eyes off the road.

"I'm listening to you," you asked.

"You're pretty sweet," he said, giggling under his nose.

"Well, thank you?" You asked, smiling at yourself.

"But you're also fucking sexy, my God! If you're driving my car, it's in my pants." he said giggling under his nose again.

Whoever knew Lando knew his giggle. At every possible opportunity, Norris giggled like teenage girls who were excited or ashamed. And no matter how long it's been since you two met, Lando still blushed and giggled a lot whenever he got the chance. So he did it all the time.

Of course, the boy did not miss the topic of cookies, for which he had fought so hard before, so your journey to the mixing room was lengthened by a twenty-minute stop in the store, even though you needed a maximum of seven ingredients for your joint baking. Lando could not pass indifferently by the cookie decorations zone (although you did not need them at all) or by the liquor shelf (although he constantly assured that he did not drink anything).

And finally, after all the pain you went through together (or rather you went through), you reached the apartment you had rented for this stay. Both of you laughing, and Lando also, still covered in blood, you headed to the toilet to clean yourself up. There were some splashes of water and quick kisses, which now seemed quite difficult due to his wound.

You quickly went to the closet to take out some looser pants for the boy and returned to the toilet, where he was sitting on the bathtub, waiting for you to fix him better than they did on the ship.

“Oh, my poor little boy,” you muttered, laughing to yourself as you stood between his legs and grabbed some hydrogen peroxide from the medicine cabinet.

“It's not funny [Y/N]” he said, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him.

"Of course it is. How the hell could you smash your nose on a glass bottle?" You asked in disbelief, shaking your head, although after so many years with your boyfriend, this question should have been rather redundant.

"You're laughing at me. And I'm suffering here." He muttered, hissing under his breath when the wound was already quite disinfected and you put a small plaster on it so that he wouldn't touch it.

Sometimes he was worse than a child, but that was what you loved about him the most. You were both still young after all, why would you mature and become serious so quickly?

Soon you started making chocolate cookies. You knew very well that when Lando made something up, there was no way you could just ignore it and pretend it didn't happen. Oh no. Even if it was the middle of the night, you both would have to jump to your feet and run to the store to get something ready. Or suddenly get up and go out of town to watch the stars at night. That was Lando. And so were you. Damn stupid, head over heels in love with each other.

Baking with Lando was always fun. And baking cookies with Lando after midnight when he was drunk? Even funnier. You spilled the flour here, half a pack of cookie chocolates suddenly disappeared - Lando promised on his life that he didn't eat them - and somewhere in between you almost broke the blender. But in the end, you both looked with a smile at the chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven, maybe not perfect, but with some heart in them.

"I can't wait to try them!" the boy said excitedly as you took them out of the oven.

Without waiting for you, Lando put them on a plate and carried them to the table in the living room. Sam sat down on the couch and waited until you joined him.

"Lando, be careful, they're hot-" you started to say, but you were interrupted by the boy's loud hissing, which made you burst into laughter. "Oh my god, you're going to kill yourself."

You hugged him your body, and the boy quickly placed his head in the crook of your neck, placing gentle kisses on it. He lifted his head up and stuck out his tongue at you, which he had burned himself on a moment earlier.

"Oh my god, did you burn yourself? Should I kiss you there?" You asked, laughing to yourself again at the boy's eager nod. "Oh, Lando..."

A/N: quiet short, but I hope that for the first time you will like it and accept it well :) i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open, and I am very close to 200 followers! maybe I can get in by the end of the week?

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

lando nswf alphabet the latest one-shot about lando

[lovebugism]

eddie x shy!reader who has never been kissed before? 🥺

hope u like it :D — you ask eddie why he didn't kiss you last night (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)

The night after Steve’s big house party, you wake up on the floor of Eddie’s room. He’d wanted you to take the bed, of course, but you refused to let him sleep alone. The two of you ended up sleeping right next to the mattress, as lovesick as you are stubborn.

His body is warm next to yours — a furnace that warms the quilt under your body and the comforter thrown over you. He’s lying on his stomach with his face shoved into the pillow. Hair wild and mouth open and so, so far away. You feel the distance like a heavy weight on your chest.

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat when he rouses. His eyes flutter open, and you squeeze yours shut tight. You pretend to be asleep while he stretches his tired limbs. “I know you’re awake, you loon,” he teases through a yawn.

You smile despite yourself, peeking one eye open to find him already looking at you. His curly bangs are frizzed over his forehead. His chocolate button gaze is softly swollen with slumber. He’s sleep-drenched and utterly beautiful.

“No, I’m not,” you insist.

“Oh, yeah?” he huffs and turns onto his side, shifting closer to you. He sighs in contentment when his warm feet entwine with your colder ones. “Sorry, then. Don’t let me disturb your beauty rest, doll.”

He struggles to hold his eyes open, and your tired smile widens. Your hands tremble with the longing to reach for him — to smooth back the curls sticking to his jaw and to cradle his cheek in your palm — but you don’t let yourself. You cage them under your head and crumble beneath the weight of your yearning.

“Do you feel okay?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he answers, slurring slightly as he wakes. “I didn’t drink much ‘cause I knew I had to drive us home.”

He’d partied for an hour or more, soaking in the sunlight of everyone’s drunken attention. You were content just watching him. One painfully awkward exchange on the dancefloor later — involving an almost kiss that ended up as a friendly peck on your cheek — Eddie started to sober up. He scarfed down water and bread and tried to keep a tipsy Robin Buckley from getting into trouble.

“Do you feel okay?” Eddie wonders upon your silence.

“Mhmm.”

“Then what’s this look for, huh?” His hand rises from beneath the blanket and migrates to your face. He runs a gentle finger over the distant frown between your furrowed brows you didn’t realize was there.

“‘Cause you made me sleep on the floor all night,” you tease in a hushed tone.

He scoffs. “I wanted you to take the bed.”

“And Iwanted you to sleep in the bed with me.”

Eddie’s quiet laugh fills the dim bedroom. His crooked smile is quieter. “I just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable, babe,” he confesses.

“Well, it wouldn’t’ve,” you murmur, gaze averted and half-shut. You busy your fidgeting hand with a rogue thread on the pillow beneath you. You wrap it around your pointer finger until the tip of it blooms a deeper shade.

“Good to know,” he smiles.

“Is that why…” The words get caught in your throat, and you trail off. You don’t bother to finish your sentence. You were barely brave enough to start it, anyway.

“Is that why what?”

You shake your head against the pillow. “Nothing.”

“No, c’mon,” Eddie croons, shifting again until his head’s on the very edge of his pillow, closer now to yours. He flashes you a soft, well-meaning smile. “Finish what you were gonna say…” he lilts quietly.

You swallow hard. “Is that why you didn’t wanna kiss me last night?”

Eddie’s breath catches for a moment. He exhales a forced laugh and musters a wavering smile. “You caught that, huh?”

“Kinda.”

“Sorry…” He doesn’t know what else to say — how to say that he’s head over heels in love with you and that he’s just a total dumbass. It’s somehow easier to apologize for being both.

“It’s no big deal,” you shrug, even though the thought has plagued your mind for nearly twelve hours now. “I just— I wasn’t sure if you, like, never wanted to kiss me ever, you know?”

“I wanna kiss you all the time,” he blurts with a scoffed laugh.

Your brows pinch. Your sheepish eyes flit between both his cinnamon ones. “Then why don’t you?”

“‘Cause I want you to feel comfortable around me,” he shrugs. “And I don’t wanna make you— you know— feel like I only want you around to be all over you all the time.”

You’re made of something softer than that, Eddie figures. You were delicate, like flower petals and early spring. He wants to treat you just as gently. He loves you so hard he’s scared he’ll break you.

“Well, sometimes I want you to be all over me,” you admit in a faint murmur, eyes sparkling and lips quirking.

Eddie grins wide. You have no idea that you’ve just unleashed a pandora’s box of his affection. Now that he’s got your permission to touch you, he’s not sure if he’ll ever stop.

“Noted,” he nods, shifting somehow closer until you’re sharing the same pillow. “What about now then, huh? Want me to be all over you— morning breath and all?”

You peer at him with doe eyes, firm and unblinking. “Want you all the time, Eds.”

“Good.”

He kisses you then, a gentle peck you didn’t know someone as brash as him was capable of. His plush lips press gently against yours, in a fleeting moment you grieve the second he pulls away. 

When he leans softly back to make sure you’re okay — to be certain that you still want more of him — you beat him to the punch. You chase him as he goes, caging his mouth in a deeper kiss that tastes only faintly of sleep. Your exhaled sighs fan together. Your lips click gently when you pull away.

“Woah,” you hear Eddie mumble.

It takes you a moment or more to open your eyes. You don’t realize how utterly dizzy you are until then. “Was that bad?” you murmur, face scrunched with misplaced panic.

Eddie shakes his wild head until the words catch up to him. “No. No, I just… I can’t believe we haven’t been doing this the whole time,” he confesses with a boyish laugh.

Your giggling entwines with his — innocent and pure and golden. He’s kissing the breath from your lungs a second later, with all the intensity of someone making up for lost time.

[mysticworks]

One day too late ~ LN4 x Reader

Lando x Pregnant! Reader; Coworker! Reader; Very Angsty; mentions of intimacy but nothing explicit; Borderline Forbidden love; Reader & Lando are friends with feelings

S Y N O P S I S:

Carried away at the party, you and Lando share a beautiful night. Lando, worried about the implications on his career, urges you to pretend it never happened, ignoring your feelings for each other...until 6 weeks later you find out you're carrying his child. Word count: 1.5k

[ Drop a comment to be tagged in part 2 ]

A beam of sun in your eyes pulled you out of your slumber.

Sore. Head pounding. A deep ache in your lower stomach.  

It took you a few seconds to realise that this wasn't your room. The unfamiliar sheets, the duvet much thicker and heavier. There seemed to be so much room across the mattress, stretching out in its emptiness. 

Then every memory from last night came tumbling through. 

After a launch party of the new 2024 season, you’d found yourself a little too lost in the celebrations, Lando right beside you in fits of giggles and dances. 

You'd always had feelings for Lando, ever since you joined the PR team during his rookie days - the working time together bonding into a quickly growing friendship. Yet something had always stopped you from taking it further.

And so when Lando placed his hands on your waist last night, his face inches away from yours before your lips finally collided - every rational thought was thrown out the window. 

The heat of the party. The excitement and psychedelic blood rush. Climbing into Lando’s car. Your legs, entangled. His whisper of sudden hot, breathless confession. Your heart pounding in reciprocated emotions. Your hands in his curl, his... 

You shot up in bed, last night now a vivid image.

Lando was sitting across the room, on his computer, headphones flung around his neck. His eyes flick away from the computer screen at your sudden movement, coming to rest on you, and he draws in a long breath.

You felt the air leave your lungs. How did he manage to look so gorgeous even in the mornings? 

“How are you feeling?” You blinked at his break of silence, words not quite making it out of your mouth. 

“Yeah, I’m…” Raking your fingers through your curtain of bangs in an attempt to collect your thoughts, “I’m fine.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the pounding headache too.” Lando shrugged, sighing, before powering down the screen and in a swift motion making his way across the room, over to you. 

Awkwardness suddenly overcame you and you did everything to avert your gaze from his. 

This proved pointless as he sat himself in front of you, the mattress dipping under his weight. You could feel the warmth radiate off his body, his finger coming to rest under your chin as he forced your eyes to meet.

“Are you okay?” There was a sadness in Lando’s eyes, one that didn’t quite match the gentleness of his voice. You mumbled a reply, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks - his face was so close - forcing your heart to respond with a quickened beat.

“Listen, I’m sorry for last night.” Your brows found themselves furrowing at his words.

“Sorry?” 

“We shouldn’t have…” He raked his curls, shutting his eyes tight for a brief moment, as if pained to say the words. 

His voice was quieter when he spoke again, “We shouldn’t have done what we did y/n.”

You felt something stab at your chest. “I don’t understand, Lando, I like you, you like me, we’ve known each other for years…what’s…what’s the - ” 

He didn't give you a chance to finish. “I can’t risk having…I just can’t risk a relationship right now. We can’t - ”

He pauses, gaze softening as you feel your eyes well up, but you’re determined to keep a stoic expression on your face.   

It didn't help that Lando was looking at you with such an intense look in his eye, his hand cupping your cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Are you saying we can't date?”

You felt your voice betray you, a single tear spilling down your cheek. Lando used his thumb to wipe it away, taking in a shaky breath. 

He looked away. “Please. I’m sorry.” His eyes were almost telling you to stay, now also welled with redness, but his words said differently. 

You felt the world collapse. Your breath hitched. A tremor shot through your limbs as you scrambled out from Lando’s bed. He got up too from his seat, standing limply in the centre of his room.

It was then you realised you were in his clothes, his loose tee reaching your knees, a pair of his joggers clumsily worn over your legs. You paid no heed, now eager to just leave. To run away and hide. 

Never had rejection been so cold. It was almost like he’d used you. A part of you wanted to scream at him, throw things and ask him “why,” yet you felt as if life had been sucked out of you. 

One of the best days of your life had been merely hours ago, before turning into a nightmare. 

“Y/n…” You’d only just reached the door, but his call made you stop in your tracks. There was a shameless hope he’d changed his mind. 

“Here. It’s cold out.” 

He held out one of his hoodies, passing it to you in a gesture to take it. 

You did. Curt and refusing to meet his gaze, before turning around stiffly.

And without another word, you left his apartment, refusing to look back.

----------------------

You weren’t sure when you got home, drenched from the rain that came gushing down along the way. 

You weren’t sure of much…only that your relationship with Lando was over. 

Over before it had even begun.

Climbing out of bed the next day was the worst feeling. With no energy in your limbs, you called in sick to work, refusing to face anyone at the McLaren office, but more importantly, avoiding Lando. 

You stayed in bed, too exhausted from crying to move. 

It wasn’t until a week later that you finally showed up at work. The pain seemed to have subdued; now replaced with forever changing moods. At times you were down in the dumps, exhausted and tired - your head slightly foggy - other times, irritable and angry. Yet you ploughed on at work, ignoring the sleepless nights and restless evenings. 

Avoiding Lando at work was near impossible, and yet you managed. Only speaking to him when absolutely unavoidable through email, or putting on your best corporate voice. 

Eye contact was avoided altogether, even when he craned his head to catch your gaze, you turned away. 

That was a satisfaction you refused to give him.

At 2 weeks it seemed the restless nights had been replaced with exhausted ones, a full night's sleep still leaving you fatigued and nauseous in the mornings. You blamed the sickness on heartbreak. 

Lando watched you more often now, sitting in the lobby of your office during lunch breaks. You turned down the blinds and shut him out.

-------------------

The realisation came, 6 weeks post heartbreak. A quick glance at your calendar told you you’d missed your cycle. The nausea, tiredness, mood swings all made sense now - each jigsaw piece coming together to fit the puzzle. 

Although the fear of raising a baby alone rose in your throat, you were determined to do it. You knew Lando had a right to know. Yet somewhere, deep down in your heart, you refused to give him that.

Perhaps you were running away.

Perhaps this was your revenge.

Your resignation made sure he’d never know. 

L A N D O 'S P O V:

They say you don’t know the value of something until it’s gone. I've learnt this truth the hard way.

I’ve watched her everyday since that night; desperately trying to catch her eye at work; take her aside and apologise. Tell her we can make this happen... start over, uncaring of the world and it's concerns.

I've watched her everyday, slowly starting to shrivel. The bags under her eyes, the tiredness in her smile. I’ve watched her at lunch, nibbling at almost nothing at her plate before silently excusing herself away. 

It devastates me to know that this pain is from me. I have caused it and she didn't deserve it. How I wish I could tell her that I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. 

I miss her smile. Her company; once a comfort. I miss having her by my side; encouraging; so full of energy.

And so this is my chance. My chance to finally set things right.

Clutching the bouquet - glitter roses I spent the last night making - I head over to the PR query desk, determined to start again, if she can give me the chance. 

There’s a new member of staff at the desk; someone I’ve never seen before and he tilts his head up at me, hearing my approach, flashing me a smile. 

He thinks I’m here for a project meeting and begins to rise from his seat, holding up a clipboard as if ready to pass it over. 

“I’m looking for y/n, l/n.” A moment passes.

Legs jittering. Heart tight and constricted; there’s a sense of urgency swelling in me as if telling me to hurry, rushing me to make things right. My fingers tap at the desk, impatient. 

He gives a sigh, furrowing his brows and lowering the clipboard back into place. 

“I'm afraid she's not here. She gave in her resignation yesterday.”

The words hit me like a boulder to the chest.

My legs feel heavy, a tornado whirling in the pit of my stomach. My fingers unclench from the bouquet and with a soft thud, the flowers thud to the ground; petals ripping apart from impact.

They've crumbled. Glitter littering the floor.

It was over.

I was one day too late.

Taglist: @hc-dutch @racinggirl @aileeincomplexity @kravitzwhore @eringaitskill @adoreyou-ido @landoslutmeout @queenofmanydreams

[dadsbongos]

my wife is cool, understanding, and goes with the flow

5.7 k words / warnings - fem reader (+referred to as mother/wife), chilchuck's emotional turmoil (he's so in love and so incapable of verbalizing it)

summary - general strings of yours and chilchuck's marriage. good to bad to making up.

~~~

“You know,” you whisper, “If you ignore how nightmarish they were to raise, then they’re kinda perfect kids.”

Chilchuck snorts, letting you hang off his arm as you stand in the doorway to your living room.

Meijack and Flertom are strewn across the couch in opposite directions, Flertom’s feet dangling off an armrest and Meijack’s in her sister’s face. Thankfully, Flertom is not awake to notice the violation of personal space. Puckpatti is curled on the floor before the couch, long auburn hair flayed out and draped over her arms, which she uses as a makeshift pillow.

The front door is wide open, gentle pittering rain having lulled the girls to sleep. Puckpatti had been the one to suggest a ‘slumber party’ in the common space as it rained, even likening the cool air and atmospheric petrichor to camping to incite Meijack. As far as you know, however, none of the girls have been camping, so you’re mystified how that reasoning actually worked.

“Mei and Fler are so big now,” he muses, “Mei thinks she’s ready for the adult world now.”

“As if,” you lay your cheek on his shoulder, silently wishing he’d take the opportunity to kiss your temple. He does not, “We were barely ready when we had them. How’s a nine-year-old prepared for that?”

“That’s what I’m asking.”

Meijack, as if sensing her parents’ lighthearted jabs, rolls over with a grumble and hum, flinging a foot into Flertom’s nose. The younger twin’s face wrinkles in protest, head jerking in the opposite direction -- you and Chilchuck freeze, anticipating a shrill cry, until Flertom relaxes again. The sigh of relief is short, though.

Abruptly, Chilchuck goes rigid, jolting you off him, “Why is Patti on the floor? Like a dog?”

“How am I supposed to know what goes on in that kid’s brain?”

Chilchuck shakes his head and steps over the young girl to shut your front door. Squeaky hinges pull a whine from Patti herself, drowsily rubbing her eyes and calling, “Papa, don’t shut it!”

“What? You want a troll to get in?” he asks sarcastically.

“No,” Puckpatti answers in earnest.

“That’s why Papa wants the door shut,” you kneel by your youngest daughter, brushing back her bangs just to watch her eyebrows scrunch cutely, “So no nasty trolls can get inside…” then you remember your husband’s complaint, “Patti, baby, do you wanna sleep in a chair? Or a bed? The ground doesn’t look very nice to rest on.”

“Yeah, Mama’s right. The ground’s gonna mess up your back,” Chilchuck joins you, ready to scoop up your daughter when she shakes her head.

“Wanna stay by Mei and Fler…” she pouts.

“Okay, but let me set out some more blankets, alright?” you kiss her on the forehead once, then twice when she beams and nods.

Chilchuck is already standing to retrieve spare blankets from your closet, he’s back before you can impede the hallway. He stops you from venturing further by propping a leg in front of you, “Don’t worry about it, I got everything.”

“She’ll need a real pillow, too, honey.”

“Yeah,” he taps at your ankles with his foot until you’re relenting, turning back towards the living room, “I said I got it.”

“Thank goodness for my big, strong man, huh?”

“I am the breadwinner,” he teases, granting you a kiss on the cheek before dropping to lay the blankets out as a makeshift mattress for Puckpatti.

“Self-imposed!” you rasp, stage-swatting at his back, “I could get a job, too!”

“Do you want to?” you want to smack the smug grin off his lips, specifically with your own. In a kiss. For a long while.

“...no.”

He laughs at your sudden shyness. Tempered down only to avoid waking your daughters, “There you go.”

“Boo,” you pull Chilchuck to a stand by the back of his shirt. You pull, and pull, and pull, and you don’t stop until he’s tumbling on top of you into your shared bed, with your door haphazardly kicked shut, “You’re mean to me.”

“I’m mean?!” he whisper-shouts, instantly more affectionate in how he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into your neck, “You choked me, yanking on my shirt like that.”

“You’re alive, aren’t you?”

“Barely,” he abruptly goes limp, “I’m half dead.”

“Half dead isn’t a thing, Chil,” you giggle, trying halfheartedly to shove him off.

“It is, I’m half dead,” he insists, “There’s only one way to revive me.”

“Uh-huh… and that is?”

“A kiss,” Chilchuck lifts his head to look you in the eyes, suggestively bumping his eyebrows, “A sloppy one.”

“No!” you gasp, dramatically.

“Loud and wet,” he nods in even measures, clicking his tongue, “Only way, I guess. Really tough for you.”

“I don’t know about that,” you wiggle out an arm from beneath his body to poke his cheek, “You seem fine now. Very lively and talkative!”

“Means I’m dying faster. It’s the final burst of energy before I shit my pants and die.”

“Ew!” your shout is smothered beneath Chilchuck’s hand, his laughter rumbling your body, forehead digging into your collarbones.

Between choked chuckles Chilchuck manages out a meek, “sorry, sorry!” he gasps for breath and releases your mouth, “That was gross.”

“Yeah, now get off me. You’re nasty.”

“See? You’re mean to me, one mention of shit and I’m just an expendable stud.”

As soon as Chilchuck rolls off you and onto his back, you’re crowding onto him, pawing at his chest and kissing his cheek, “You are a stud.”

“Can I get a kiss for that, at least?”

“I just kissed you, greedy.”

His deadpan stare inspires a bizarre longing in your thumping chest, you stretch to grant his wish. Chilchuck’s hands cup your cheek, holding you close to prolong the kiss as long as you’ll allow. Such restless and selfish want is reserved for behind closed doors, which you wish you could understand, but you don’t.

You’re preoccupied with the dread of death. Half-foots are blessed to live past fifty. Sure, you and Chilchuck are merely scratching at twenty, but life is too short for him to be shy about these things.

“I wish you’d be more open and lovey.”

“Hm?” he hums against your lips, pulling away to stare at you strangely, “Why?”

“‘Why?’” you mock, “I’m your wife! That’s why.”

Instinctually, Chilchuck goes to wave off the answer as a joke and roll his eyes, but then something barks. Both of you pause, heads turning slowly towards the now gaping door to find a shaggy white puppy standing in the dim space. Swiftly, its tail wags, and it barks again before charging towards your bed.

Your screech at the dash rouses Chilchuck from his shock. Clumsily shuffling so he’s in front of you, taking the brunt of the dog’s pounce.

“Since when do we have a dog?!” Chilchuck looks over his shoulder at you, as if you’d know.

“As if I know!” you parrot your thoughts, breath slowing to a calm when the small dog cuddles your husband’s arms, “Kinda cute though, right?”

“He broke in!” Chilchuck accuses, lifting a shoulder to prevent you petting it -- his plan fails miserably and you’re easily scratching behind the dog’s ears, “He could have ticks! He could’ve bit the girls on his way back here!”

“No,” you whine, resting your chin on Chilchuck’s shoulder, “He has a friendly face, he’d never do that!”

“And you know that how…?”

“Aw, Chil, honey, have a heart! He was probably scared of the rain and snuck inside to get away from it!” you reach under the dog’s head to now scritch his chin, “Which is our fault for leaving the door open, isn’t it?” you’re already a lost cause to logic, repeating back to the puppy, “Isn’t it? Yes, it is! Yes, it is! He understands me! He’s so smart, Chil, we have to keep him.”

His silent glowering makes you wilt over his back.

You retreat from the dog to hug your husband from behind, “C’mon, have a heart!”

Irritation pulses through Chilchuck at the turn of tonight’s events. Everything before this dumb dog felt natural, smooth, and familiar. Until you said that.

One thing that makes his heart rate spike. Even though, at twenty, it means very little to him.

‘I wish you’d be more open and lovey.’

He knows this means more.

“Okay, okay,” he eases, snatching a chaste smooch from you before combing a hand down the dog’s soft fur, “I’ll work on it.”

You two never had a dog, though.

Puckpatti is allergic -- you never would’ve gotten a dog since it’d cause your daughter so much distress.

What’s in his arms isn’t a dog, but it isn’t a mimic.

What’s in his arms isn’t a dog because this isn’t real.

.

.

.

Chilchuck’s eyes drift open, a dusty ceiling stares down at him. Slowly, a crushing weight is relieved from his stomach.

Blonde and black hair mingle in his peripherals, then Laios is leaning over him obnoxiously, speaking to the other two while looking at the half-foot, “Does Chil sleep with his eyes open?”

“No,” Chilchuck takes initiative, shoving Laios away by the chin and sitting up with a yawn. His back cracks unpleasantly, and eye crust pokes into his fluttering lids. Rubbing the gross clots away, Chilchuck settles his elbows onto his knees before resting that way -- leaning into his hands even after his eyes have been cleared out.

For a moment, he silently mourns the fading images of his dream; already having forgotten the beginning. No matter how desperately he clings to the story, it escapes, leaking out his ears until all there is left to mourn is the fact he’s awake.

All he knows is that dream ended differently than it should have. Hopefully the ending this time was better than real life, not that it matters. He wouldn’t remember, nor would it change the fact that in reality you two are not together.

“Chilchuck? Are you okay?” Marcille sounds hesitant. Worried.

The last thing he needs is her fretting and prying into what his Nightmare could’ve been about, so instead he lamely says, “Tired.”

“Oh, okay,” she sounds entirely unconvinced. He’s surprised when she doesn’t push.

He’s further surprised when Laios does, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

…

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Chil’,” you croon, hands curling around the man’s waist as he silently uncorks a bottle of cheap wine. He makes sure not to jostle you off as he moves the dark glass to his lips, even cupping your overlapping hands with one of his own to steady you, “You should talk to me about these things!”

“It was fine, we went in -- got what we needed -- got out. I’m back and alive.”

‘Alive’ strikes you, it sticks in the back of your head as soon as he says it. Your arms tighten around his slim waist, the slots of his ribs dig into your forearms and it makes your chest tighten. Swirling thoughts colliding and dragging each other deeper and deeper into your darker concerns: Chilchuck starving himself to maintain an unhealthy weight, Chilchuck burning calories in a revival, Chilchuck having to drink himself under just to fall asleep.

“Would you tell me if you died?”

“Why would you want to know that?” he laughs, yet you’re frowning into his back.

You bite your lip until raw iron spills onto your tongue, gnawing it with the anxiety of how to soften this question. How marshmallowy can you make your tone to avoid lecturing while also not patronizing him? Eventually, you settle on just spitting it out,

“Would you even remember it?” he hums, confused, “You drink a lot, Chil’.”

He squeezes your hands, setting down his wine to turn in your hold, now cupping your cheeks -- flush with upset and ready to dampen with tears, “I don’t get blackout on jobs, you know?”

“But,” you don’t want to pester him, to drive him away from home even during his off time, “Chil’, honey, you’re… with your weight, alcohol could- well- !”

“I know,” he interrupts your stammering, drawing a thumb across the apples of your face tenderly. Though his posture is rigid, and his next statement confirms your suspicion that he just wants to stop talking about this, “I appreciate you looking out for me, but really, don’t think so much about it. Work’s not worth talking about at home. And my drinking is totally recreational, I want to enjoy myself and unwind, is that so bad?”

“No,” you heave with defeat, now planting your forehead against his shoulder. Clenching his shirt in a bunch, you squeeze and squeeze and squeeze hoping it’ll squash out any thoughts of continuing to nag his drinking. It’ll end the same way it always does.

Chilchuck is fine because work is fine and his drinking is fine and his diet is fine because Chilchuck is perfectly perpetually fine.

You’re just a worrywart wife. Your kids are grown, having flown the coop, and you’re going mad in loneliness. You should think less. You should learn to be fine like your husband.

…

“Woah, no way! They want to meet me?”

“Uh-huh,” Chilchuck’s eyes trail after you as you rush from one end of the room to the other, clicking jewelry clasps and snapping buttons into place as you go, “It’s nothing to dress up over,” when you seem to ignore him, he only gets louder, “We’re gonna be late, you know?”

Let me dress up! is what you want to snap at him, but you don’t. Instead, you let those comments join the many others from him that rattle around in the back of your mind like rocks.

“I want to make a good impression,” you finally utter, “It isn’t like you tell me anything about work, I’m excited to meet your friends! Besides, if you wanted me to be more prepared then you should’ve said something earlier.”

“I get it,” and in a bid to be polite, but just coming out tumbling into the rock pile is, “If you had work friends, I’d wanna meet them, too.”

The obvious dig is that you don’t get out. Now that the girls are older and independently caring for themselves, you could more easily find work… the problem lies in how you don’t really want to. You’d be too scared of Chilchuck returning home to an empty house, whenever it is that he does come home.

The hidden dig is that he’s fibbing, he would never want to meet your friends like you want to meet his.

Nevertheless, you tuck a white hyacinth cob into your hair and head for the spot Chilchuck claims his group frequents for after-work drinks. Before tonight, it never really occurred to you that Chilchuck might be grabbing drinks with other people. Not that such an idea alone is what bothers you, rather that he’s out so often and for so long potentially enjoying himself while you’re stuck at home sick over whether he’s alive.

Upon arrival, a pair of tallmen greet you both. Smiles light up their faces, cheeks balling with glee, when their eyes spot you. It should probably be embarrassing how quickly such an insignificant act can get you excited. You wave and they wave back.

“Gonna introduce the lovely lady?” the slightly taller one, black haired with stubble stretching down his neck, prompts.

“We should get to the table first,” Chilchuck reaches for the door, holding it open for you.

(if you were presenting Chilchuck to your friends then you’d repeat yourself introducing him ad infinitum with shining pride, but you add that thought to your rock collection)

“This is my wife,” Chilchuck pulls out your chair for you, waiting until you’re sat before adding your name and sitting beside you, “Hope she’s everything you all hoped for.”

You choose to ignore that. Preferring to strike conversation with his friends until,

“You know,” the blonde woman at the head of the table leans forward, you’ve been rudely trying to avoid looking at her. But how can you blame yourself when she stares at your husband with such a sultry, lidded gaze, “I think you were exaggerating how spacey she is, Chilchuck. Adorable thing’s been keyed into our conversation the whole time.”

Chilchuck grumbles into his rapidly emptying mug of ale, then locking eyes with the blonde woman, “You don’t live with her.”

“Hey!” you sound bratty and grating with the whine, but your spirit feels worse, “Is that what you tell them about me?”

“And clumsy,” the gnome directly across from you chirps.

“But!” the black-haired one from earlier interrupts, apparently sensing your drowning mood, “You’re a good mom! Great, even!”

“Oh,” the compliment does very little to satiate you, given what’s been said against you (you don’t stop to consider that Chilchuck mentions those things because he finds them charming). You look over to your husband, “I’m a good mom?”

Chilchuck is drunkenly chortling over something you hadn’t heard the blonde woman say.

But at least you’re a good mom.

Something plops against the hand buried in your lap. A scattered white hyacinth. Embarrassed suddenly by how much effort you put into your outfit, you sweep the flower off your leg and stare at the table -- praying to avoid more glimpses of the blonde at the head of the table.

Nobody seems to notice your veil of silence, not even Chilchuck to tease you proving his point about spacing out.

On the trek home, you trail behind Chilchuck to test if he’ll notice. At some point, you’re three full paces behind him, and you theorize that the weight of all your freshly added brain-rocks is slowing you down. Again, he holds the door to your shared home open, but does not ask the cause for your sour mood.

Assuming he’s even noticed, anyway.

Given the way he leaves the next morning for another job with little more than a kiss to your forehead, you assume he didn’t. Venomously, you wonder if he would notice the blonde in a bad mood.

That same morning, not knowing how long he’ll be away this time, you pack up and head for Flertom’s house with Puckpatti.

(a flickering hope tries to toss the rocks through your ears, assuring that Chilchuck will come for you as soon as he’s seen you missing)

…

Four years later, Chilchuck does finally come for you.

“Hey, Mama?” Flertom creeps around the corner to the kitchen, hands wrinkled in the skirt of her dress nervously, “You have a visitor…”

Looking up from your book, you roll the handle of your coffee mug in your palm, making the bottom scrape against your daughter’s tablecloth, “Who’d visit me?”

“Dad.”

That makes you hesitate before slipping your book closed around your thumb, “Your father’s here?”

“He’s at the door,” she nods, voice lowering as if he’d hear her across the house, “There’s an elf lady with him!”

“Oh, you’re- !” you purse your lips, sighing through your nose, and nod. Rising to a stand, you replace your thumb with a proper bookmark before skirting around Flertom and through the hall. Curses coagulate in your throat, and you suffer them silently, holding them until they melt back into your chest, not wanting to swear out your ex in front of his daughter.

With more force than perhaps necessary, you pull the door open and annoyedly flick your eyes from Chilchuck to the blonde elf woman behind him.

“What? Came to show off?”

Chilchuck flushes red, shaking his head and tilting a preciously wrapped bouquet towards you, “No! No, we’re not together.”

Elf Lady lets out a quiet gasp before refusing sharply, “Not together at all! He’s here for you!”

“I figure he’s here for me,” you’re much more bitter than you thought you’d be, although to be fair whenever you imagined Chilchuck coming to see you he was never with another woman, “If you’re not together, why are you here?”

She frowns at your tone, Chilchuck sticking an arm out in front of her, “She’s my coworker. And friend. She pushed me to come see you,” he steps forward, waving the flowers under your nose, “Can we talk?”

“About what, Chilchuck?”

His eyes widen at the use of his formal name, plastic wrap crinkling loudly as he squeezes the flowers. Then his gaze drops to his feet, “I didn’t realize we were so unfamiliar.”

“I haven’t heard from you in four years.”

“You haven’t heard from me?” he grins sideways, an agitated twitch in his left eye, “Do you hear yourself?”

You open your mouth to retort, only to then catch the sight of Chilchuck’s ‘friend’ lingering -- staring -- not even three feet back. Glaring at her, you begin to slide the door shut, “I think we’re done here. You show up at our daughter’s house, unannounced, with some pretty, blonde filly and expect us to chat like old friends? You’re just as insensitive as always, Chilchuck!”

As you go to slam the door, Chilchuck shoves his foot in the way, hissing at the resounding ache all through his instep and ankle. Breathless from the sudden pain, he worms the bouquet through the slim gap -- a few stray powder blue hyacinth petals fluttering to the floor at the pressure. Just above the plush flowers is the sorrowful sight of Chilchuck’s wet lashes and batting eyes.

“Come on,” he huffs, not even taking a huff of relief when you let the door open wider. Tensely, Chilchuck wraps his other hand around the bouquet as well, “It’s not like that, you know me better, don’t you? I just need to talk to you,” the wrap squeals again as he squeezes tighter, “I just want you to tell me where I went wrong.”

He’s playing to your big headedness, vying that he’s alone in the wrong. You know him better, most definitely, you know that as soon as you two sit down he’ll bring up the way in which you left. You deserve that much, don’t you? If you could change anything (given that what you can pick from is what was actually your fault), it would be the manner in how you left. You would’ve waited until he was home to tell him to his face.

(except that’s a lie, if you had waited then you would’ve let him sucker you with soft apologies and unfulfilling promises to change)

This is the most vulnerable you’ve seen him in years.

“She’s not coming into my home.”

Chilchuck nods, lips stretching fondly, “You’re so jealous.”

“She’s tall, and blonde! And pretty. And- !”

He cuts you off, tone just as soft as it was seconds ago, “And I’m not giving her flowers, am I?”

“Apology flowers,” you mutter, though sweeping the bouquet from his arms into yours. Skimming one of the soft petals under your thumb before gliding from one bob to the other and touching there, too. Turning toward the burning feeling of eyes on your back, you find Flertom’s blown out stare meeting yours.

Flertom holds both hands out silently, brows raised. Pushing in neither way, only offering to hold -- whether she holds you or the flowers is your decision. You choose the flowers. She giggles and waves you off, whispering to the flowers about what a lovely, empty vase she has just for them!

“We shouldn’t talk here,” you step out from Flertom’s home, “I don’t want to include our daughter in our troubles.”

“What a good mom,” he teases, waving off the elf as he steps down from Flertom’s porch, holding out a hand to assist you down as well. The remark has a new defiance bubbling beneath your skin.

“I can walk myself,” you bypass his offer.

“I know you can, but let me be nice.”

“You had lots of opportunities to be nice.”

A retort is trapped on the back of his tongue. Ultimately, he swallows it, and says nothing except to suggest a bar nearby, “That could be a good spot,” at your judgmental stare, he sputters, “For talking!”

“Right.”

Chilchuck has a favored tavern in Kahka Brud, the one where you told him you were pregnant with Puckpatti. He, very selflessly and pumped full of blind joy, bought a round for the patrons. It's not a particularly popular or nice place, there’s a lingering smell of mildew and the usual customers are lonely old men (basically: Chilchuck). And the door still creaks when he holds it open for you.

And the tables are just as wobbly when you sit there. Chilchuck tries in vain to mask the tipping by forcing it to one side by pressing his elbows down.

“So, what was she doing there?”

“She kept bugging me about my personal life, so,” he sighs, unsure how to explain himself without sounding out of his mind, “In short, I promised she could meet my family.”

“Pretty against your usual tough front.”

“Not tough,” he folds his arms now, hands on either bicep, still trying to keep the uneven table steady, “I just don’t think they have to know my business.”

“You realize how stupid you sound, right?”

“Oi,” a deep voice approaches from the other side of the bar, a man unfamiliar to both you and Chilchuck stands behind the counter, “We don’t serve kids here.”

Chilchuck groans, pointing at his ears without looking back at the man, then his eyes catch the way you’re prepared to hop down from your seat. He shakes his head, “Don’t move for this dumbass. If he can’t tell a tall-man kid from adult half-foots, he’s a fucking idiot.”

“I guess, but what if he just kicks you out for being a dick?” you glance at the bartender warily, trying to sense if he’s gearing up to throw you and Chilchuck out by force.

“I’m not worried about him,” Chilchuck leans forward, almost as if he can assert control over the situation by a meager height difference, “I’m here to talk to you.”

You’re unsure how to respond to that. It’s something you’ve always wanted to hear from him, but now that you have it feels unsatisfying. After four years of your sudden disappearance from his life, he’s finally given chase.

“Do you have any idea why I left?”

“Roughly,” he admits, voice quiet, eyes redirected to the table in shame, “I wasn’t there for you, right?”

“That’s a bit simplified. When you were on crawls, it felt like you being away for work felt the same as when you were home.”

“I wasn’t there for you,” he restates, nodding slowly, “So, that was it?”

His lack of tension hurts you more than you’re willing to admit. Enough that you temporarily forget that you wanted to make him feel the distance between you both.

“Chil…”

You revert to his first name.

“It’s okay, you can say it. That was it. You had enough.”

It goes unacknowledged, and that hurts all over again. It hurts so bad, you start to get angry that he even maintains such an effect on your heart.

“I didn’t want- it wasn’t- I’m…” you groan loudly, eyes clenching shut to avoid him, “That’s the problem, Chil,” his silence prods you on, “You think of me leaving as… as a ‘that’s it’ moment. Do you know how hard that was on me?”

“Leaving was hard on you? I came home to nothing that day! I thought you were just upset, maybe a little depressed, I didn’t think you were planning to leave me! I never thought you’d leave.”

“I told you. I told you why I was upset.”

“When?”

“I told you all the time!” before he can open his stupid mouth, you’re yelling again, “And if you knew I was so sad, then why didn’t you ask?! Did it never occur to you that I might need support? That I wanted my husband to talk to me about how I felt? That he should talk to me about how he feels?”

“I’m no good with emotional shit, you know that. When I’m upset I just feel uncomfortable spilling that onto others, I didn’t want to intrude.”

“We were married! Spouses are supposed to intrude!”

His shoulders droop, face falling like you said something genuinely devastating (but that can’t be, right? why would he be so upset about something he gave such little thought to?), “Were?”

“I was gone for four years before you came to see me, Chil,” you lay your head in your hands, “Four years before you looked for me.”

“I thought you didn’t want to see me again,” he whispers, “I asked Fler about you.”

“She never told me that.”

“I told her not to.”

Redundantly, you say, “I didn’t know that.”

“I thought you hated me,” Chilchuck draws a slow breath, it fills his whole chest before he lets it all out, “And for the first couple of months after Fler told me you were safe, I hated you, too. I was so mad that you didn’t even leave a note. I couldn’t eat or sleep, I was just… confused, and angry. I couldn’t work,” he swallows hesitation, “And the worst part was… I couldn’t talk about it because nobody knew you. Re-explaining it to people would just piss me off all over again.”

“Your old coworkers met me. And we grew up with Dandan.”

“I didn’t want to talk to Dandan,” he huffs petulantly, “I wanted to talk to my wife.”

So many feelings are bottled between you both; shaken up to a fizzy, bubbling mess about to explode from one of you. You fear it may be you. You almost crave for it to be him, though. You hate him. You miss him. You love him.

And you’re lying through your teeth, still, because you don’t hate him at all.

“Being with you, I felt so lonely.”

“I never took it seriously when you said I should open up more. I thought that because we were married that was enough and you’d be content to just be there,” he purses his lips, “I was wrong. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” you reach across the table and pull one of his hands off his arm, lacing his fingers with yours, “I should’ve left a note. I’m sorry. You must’ve been worried sick.”

“I thought some bastards took you. Ran up and down the coast accusing everyone I could see of kidnapping,” he chuckles, although the ragged beat in his voice clues to you that the incident was not as lighthearted as he’s making it seem, “But when I found out the truth, I just thought you didn’t want to be found.”

“Because you wouldn’t want to be found, right?”

“Right.”

“But- !”

“You’re not me,” he squeezes your hand tight, you can feel the full warm softness of his palm without those gloves he pulls on for work, “You’re way different. You run away to prove points,” a bratty hey! follows, “You know yourself really well, and you’re good at being open. I’ve never been like that. I never knew how, it makes me uncomfortable. But you’re my,” he swallows, “You were my wife, I should’ve been comfortable being emotional with you. You shouldn’t have been in a position where me being home was the same as me being gone for days on end.”

“Thanks, Chil,” you smooth a thumb from his knuckle and along his index finger. You glance back up to his face. A sick nostalgia, or perhaps revived affections, rage up from your gut and overdriving your heartbeat. He’s more handsome than you remember.

He shrugs, studying your conjoined hands. As if it’s the last time he’ll see them like this.

It might be.

“What now?” you ask.

“Dunno,” he replies.

Is it pathetic if you ask to get back together? (YES)

“Want to meet my new coworkers?” he blurts, a vicious red overtaking his face.

This is a step. Where exactly, you’re completely in the dark, but it certainly is a step somewhere new.

“You’re seriously not with that elf, right?”

“Of course, not! What kind of person tries reuniting with their wife while bringing a new girlfriend along?”

“You really want that answer?”

“Oh, fuck you,” he snides, getting down from his chair and holding out a hand to help you down. This time, you take it, and leave his palm in yours as you both exit the bar, “By the way, my old boss is a king now.”

“What?” you gasp, spare hand flying down to smooth out your outfit, “Tell me we’re not going yet! I can look nicer than this!”

“You look pretty like this,” his eyes scrawl over your frame, “Not that it matters, right?”

“Why not?” you frown, “I should at least try to look my best in front of a king.”

“He’s just some guy,” he double-backs suddenly, shaking his head sternly, “I don’t even think he’s attracted to people, I think he’s into monsters. You shouldn’t waste your time.”

Oh!

You smile at your husband widely, “You’re jealous!”

“Not even a little. Why would I be?”

“Exactly,” you pull him into your side by your hand in his, “Why would you be?”

Is it pathetic for him to beg to renew your vows?

Yes.

Does he still plan to?

Yes.

…

“You have a wife?”

“Is that so surprising?” Chilchuck can’t help but preen at the shock, carding a hand through his hair like some pompous dork trying to act too cool for the attention, “Yeah, I’m a taken man.”

Clara, a blonde tallman he usually laughs at rather than with, pesters for more information, “What’s she like?”

Her curiosity makes his skin itch, so he shrugs and tries throwing out answers as fast as they come, “Kind of a space case, and clumsy. But it’s cute…” he scoffs when his party coos and ‘aww’s like he’s some kid talking about a crush rather than a grown man his wife, “She’s really caring, too, it made her a good mom,” Chilchuck clears his throat, if only to smother the sight of his broad grin with his hand, “She’s great.”

“We should meet her,” his black-haired cleric suggests suddenly, “She probably wants to know what group has her husband away from home so often. Hopefully she doesn’t hate us, huh?”

“No,” Chilchuck lowers his hand, still feeling a gentle giddy lap over him like sunlight at the thought of you, “She’s pretty understanding.”

~~~

+ and btw and fyi: i think it’d be cool if the dream was actually terrible and only appeared pleasant cuz laios saved chil, like how marcille remembered having a nice dream after being saves. like if the real dream was coming home from a long job to discover his family horribly murdered <3

[fleuraimer]

requestin a lil… nsfw alphabet with carmy berzatto (au or not is up to u!) bc i am GONE GONE GONE for this guy and the way you write him - 🍓nonnie <33

BERRY GET OUT OF MY HEAD I WAS JS THINKING ABT MAKING ONE OF THESEEEEE

tw!! nsfw alphabet. this shit finna get filthy y'all 😝. buckle up!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

ok i think boxer!carmy is the type to wanna hold his cub after sex for literally as long as possible like. arms still wrapped around her waist even after she's come down from that fuzzy, floaty headspace he sends her to, fingers tickling the flesh of her forearms, supple thighs, her bruised up, heaving chest, her sagged shoulder, or curled up in her mussed hair, scratching gently at her sweaty scalp. when he goes supa hard on his girl i can see him being extra attentive (like he's always there when she needs him but he refuses to leave her side when he's been rougher than usual—carries her everywhere like a small child, hand feeds her foods, keeps her off her feet more than her had when he had her on her damn back). he's always asking if she needs anything from him or if she's feeling good or if he'd been too rough with her anywhere—just very sweet and kinda anxious to make her as comfortable as fucking humanly possibly because he's just so thankful for her and fucking grateful that she fits to him—molds to his whims—so perfectly :((

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

ASSSSS!!!! like carmen berzatto loves his cub and could spend hours trying to find the words to describe her ethereal beauty but this man is a SUCKER for her pretty ass :)). he definitely pretends to hit it from the back any and every fucking time she's bent over; he's holding her there when she's in his lap, stood beside him, tucked into his side, embraced in his burly biceps—hugging his big body, her little hands grasping at the broad of his back with his massive paws pressed into the fat of her ass :(((. he likes to lay his head on it when he finds her laying on her stomach across the bed, scrolling mindlessly through her phone or reading a book or stetching in her notebook. other times he come in and eye her there from the doorframe for a minute, head titled curiously, and then come up behind her—quiet enough that she usually doesn't notice—and issue a sure smack to her teasing bottom. carmy just loves to grab it, smack it, lick it, bite it, kiss it; and she makes it damn hard not to with those tight and tiny clothes she insists on wearin' all the time—not that he's really fuckin' complaining. he just loves cub's ass :)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

i think carmy doesn't really care where he comes as long as it's on or in his cub. like obviously he loves spilling into her sweet cunt, or down her tight throat, but he's also obsessed with rubbing himself into her skin—printing, marking—coming hard over her soft tummy, or her arched back; her bite ridden, spit-slicked breasts, or her hand-printed, irritated ass, and massaging his essence into her flesh... idk it makes him dizzy and gets his cock stirring equally as fast as watching his cum drip from her ruined pussy or her throat bob as she swallows a load she's just given him does. hard decisions :((

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

well this secret has been revealed already but bear loves cub's pretty pink toes :)) she's usually always wearing heals—a personal preference—so he lovessss when she comes home after a long day and makes him unbuckle and/or slip her shoes off and give her a foot rub. flops down on the bed or couch and tugs her legs over his lap, leans forward to grab the shea butter and tv remote to hand to his cub. and takes a dollop of shea butter and rubs it into his palms as she picks some rom-com—set it up tonight, a fan favorite—to watch before taking one of her feet in his paws, smoothing the moisturizer into her skin, soothing the ache, digging them out from the crevices of her muscles with those heavenly fingers of his. in the bedroom, he kisses and sucks on her little pink toes, keeps them pressed against his pecs when he's got her on her back, pulls them up to his stomach when he's got her on all fours. he just thinks they're so cute, little pink things, and he loves the way she reacts when he sucks them into his mouth it makes his head spin almost as much as when they’re sliding up and down the length of his hard cock.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

boxer!carmy was a whore. key word; was, but still, you know? that little comment about ring girls he made to his cub during their first fight was not just some information he picked up after years of being in the industry, carmy knows. it's a fact that his cub loves to throw in his face whenever he gets unreasonably jealous at her interaction with the male species, because she has to watch him get swarmed by ten different scarcely clothed girls every time he wins a fight with a fucking smile on her face; he can suffer through a few minutes of her making idle conversation with the opposite sex.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

oh lawd i feel like this is a toss up between missionary and doggy. carm loves missionary because, for one, he gets to see his cub's gorgeous face and study each reaction and inflection she offers him. he can easily reach for her heaving tits and squeeze them in his massive paws, or lean down to suckle a trail of hickies over them. he'll throw her legs over his shoulders and fall into her, folding her in on herself, spreading her open for him, sneak his hand down between their bodies to smear his thumb over her clit. but then there's doggy where he can press and play with her perfect ass as he sinks his cock into her to the root, pushing down on the bend of her back to force her farther into and arm, face smushed against the sheets, shoulders slumped, ass up and pressed tight to her bear. more hard decisions :(((

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

i definitely think our bear is more on the serious side. it certainly wouldn't ruin the moment if he tripped over himself when trying to yank down his pants, or they bump foreheads or he gets elbowed when he manhandles her around where he wants her, a brief, soft and loving laugh exchanged between them. but they fall right back into each other when the moment has passed, drunk of both lust and love, a fatal attraction. their affection—obsession—for one another is too serious for their sex to be any different.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

despite his honorific, carmy keeps it clean down there. not smooth-shaven, but not prickly or bushy either. it's just the right length and amount that it's honestly more attractive that he isn't completely smooth. he prefers to wax, and will shave to trim up anywhere thats needed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

our boy carmy craves being close, so it's hard to imagine him being anything but intimate when he's with his girl, between the sheets or not. no one said he was conventionally intimate, however. he shows his intimacy through a hand sealed to the hinge of her jaw, keeping her mouth near his. or with fingers digging into hips, locking her to his cock; through a fist in her scalp, or a hand pressing down on the bulge in her stomach. i feel like carm is more primally intimate than romantically intimate, you know? anywhore...

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he doesn't even remember the meaning of the term 💀 only if the hand jacking his stiff cock belongs to his cub :))

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

oh em gee this actually just popped into my brain but like i can see carm lwk liking temperature play but like not normal?? y'all HEAR ME OUT THERE'S A VISION. after like a particularly brutal fight (our baby won still, dw) carmy has to take an ice bath to soothe his muscles, so he slips inside a large tin bath with his girl by he side, sitting in a chair pulled next to the bath. he's shivering as he sinks down to his neck, heavy breath coming through pursed lips, hands clenched into fits beneath the ice. he curses under his breath but eventually settle, his cub's hand pressing sweaty curls away from his forehead. he rolls his head back against the padded ledge and flits his droopy eyes up to her, smiling softly. and then, unprovoked, "come sit on m'face, cub." and like... ok! so she moves her chair to the head of the tub and then sits with her front facing the back of the chair. she grips the top of her seat as carmy fits his head between her parted thighs and lifts his freezing arms from the ice water and "quiet f'me, baby, don't need anybody walkin' in." so... yeah 💆🏽‍♀️

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

carmen will fuck his girl literally anywhere in the house—it's their fucking penthouse, he should be able to shove his cock inside his cub whenever, wherever, and however he fucking feels like. i feel like they fuck in the locker room way too often in the beginning stages of their relationship, and at least twice in the actual arena on the canvas of the ring. oh, he lovessss a good car and/or limo sesh, reminds him of their first time <333

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

literally anything his cub does. anything. some favorites, though, are when she dances for, with, or on him, when she licks sweat from his skin in some feral display of affection, when she tries to manhandle him the way he can her, and when she asks him for help—seriously, she's so goddamn stubborn and coy that she rarely ever just asks for something, there's always some game to play.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

hmmm i think he would never do anything with a knife or something involving blood when it comes to his cub—like, if there's cuts and bruises on his body from a fight and she's pressin' and kissin' and bitin' on them, drawing his ichor to the surface, he's not gonna stop the show. but if he claws at her flesh hard enough to scrape away a few layers of skin and draws crimson to the surface, he's literally throwing a fit, like borderline calling an ambulance, about to report himself for a crime. he's not against the infliction of pain in a sexual context—clearly not, he'll bite and smack and yank his cub to his heart's content—but the second it turns from something enticingly heady into something hurtful and damning all facades are dropped and he's tending to his sweetheart :((

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

bear is a MUNCHHHHH!! he's always gagging to get his head between his cub's thighs, and he's damn good at it. he pays close attention every time he's down there, listens for every bleat and moan she lets slip past her plump lips, hands soothing any patch of flesh he can paw at. he'd never turn down his cub's—hot and wet around him; knows everything he likes, needs, to finish him off—but if she says some dumb shit like, "do you want me to give you head or do you want to give me head?" he pulling her into him and ripping at whatever his blocking his mouth from her sweet pussy so he can fucking show her what he wants—

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

i think it deffffinitely depends on the mood/situation. like he always sets the pace in the moment, based off the vibe the night has curated and the way his girl has been behaving for the night. HEAVY on the behavior; all she has to do is be good and she'll get what she asks for—but we've established she doesn't ask for anything, she plays games, and so why would this be any fucking different. so i suppose most of the time it's firm and deep but not necessarily fast, only when she begs for it, and, on the rare occasion she plays nice, he takes soft and slow with his sweet cub.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

if his girl's down, he's down 😛.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

i feel like he's open to anything that doesn't cause real harm to his cub. like he'll try out exhibitionism with her if she wants to but only in a controlled environment. keeps the details to himself so she feels like it's raw and unstaged, but he'd for sure rent out like a club or restaurant and fuck her on the table in front of everyone—everyone being a group of paid, NDA signed actors, you know?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

MJ said it best y'all; he's makin' sweet love 'til the break of dawn 🤧 (like regardless if he just got beat down—if his girl wants his cock, she's getting his cock).

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i don't think carm every had or really used toys before he met his girl, and they don't use them particularly often in the bedroom to begin with, but he's not averse to them, and when they do it's always a good time—for some more than others (the some being carmen, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of his twitching cub, c'mon, baby, gimme more, gimme that fuckin' cream—).

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

jesus lord 😖. mean, mean, mean man, our bear :(( he riles his cub up 37,000 times a day and leaves her high and soaked each time. slips a rogue hand up her skirt to pet at her clothed pussy, fits his hand to her jaw when she gets snippy, keeps a hand on her—usually her ass—at all times, tell her to open up when he pulls away from a kiss to offhandedly spit in her sweet mouth. then he just... smiles and gives her an unnecessary wink, moseying off to do whatever it is that he does :(((

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

i'm a FIRM believer that cub is the only person—despite carm's gross (in her opinion) body count—that can make him moan, you know? like deep, from the pit of his stomach, rooted in the pleasure she stirs in the belly of the beast—the bear, her bear—a low, rumbling moan fallen past his red, bitten lips, parting and un-parting over stuttered breaths. like she makes him sing the way he does for her, and she's the only one that can :))

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he lets her use the tip to scroll 💀 (i can imagine this so vividly in my head 😭 😭) BUT ANYWAY i think our bear likes nip sucking...idk i can just see him with a lactation kink :)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

i feel like i covered this the best i could in the first time blurby but if it wasn't clear our man is THICK. like his cock is no longer then six, six and half inches long, but the width??? literally tearing his girl in two 🤕

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

IF HIS GIRL'S DOWN, HE'S DOWN, SHE IS HIS SEX DRIVE.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

boxer!carmy only falls alseep after he knows he's girl is knocked out for the night. he tickles, gentle, with his finger-pads, up and down her arm, whispers sweet praises in her ear and presses kisses to her sweaty temple and lull her into a dreamy, sated state and eventually to bed. only then, with her nose pressed into his neck and her hands bunched up at his chest, tucked in his side, with her leg thrown over his slowly rising and falling stomach, does he allow his eyes to grow heavy with sleep. when (if) he dreams, he dreams of her.

——

a/n: this was fun!! hope u enjoy my berry 😚

not edited/proofread!

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

is there something specific in bangchan's chart that makes him so thirsty for attention/adoration? like i haven't really seen other idol being so into parasocial relationship with fans and it feels to me like he basically thrives on it, like he needs this more than his fans. and it's not just flirting, but also putting himself in position of idk mentor/father or something, giving advice on topics that he's actually not that well versed in.

to be clear i'm not dissing him here, it's more of me feeling i guess concerned. he gives me "someone who as a child didn't get enough attention and now will do anything to please others, act however they want him to, to get that attention" and it just makes me sad, like dude you don't have to beg for it, have some self respect, people who like you for you, will continue liking you.

Hey, this is a great point and something I've always wondered about myself because his fanservice and his relationship with fans go way more than just 'a part of his job' with how he constantly telling his fans that 'he'll protect every single one of them' and the few times Chris has sent Bubble messages saying 'give me all your problems and I'll take them away from you'.

I think his caregiver complex and his persistence in feeling needed goes way more than just his natal chart, yes...his Libra stellium and LIbra in the 5th House does have a huge influence but as someone who has anxious attachment style myself...Bang Chan has textbook traits of someone who has quite the anxious attachment style.

I don't like delving deep into the childhood of an idol because it's not my place but I do feel he grew up in an environment where love and affection was earned and I think he probably felt emotionally neglected or like his support system was emotionally unavailable because of all the training he had to go through at a very young age.

So yeah, I don't think he probably received a lot validation and had to grow up way too young and way too quickly and it manifests in him having this...I guess co-dependency on Stays (particularly his babygirls).

It's also why I'm still on the fence about whether he voluntarily ended Channie's Room or whether the company did for their own reasons because those lives were a way of receiving all that parasocial attention on a weekly basis.

I wouldn't be surprised if Chan experienced a type of withdrawal or is a bit 'sad' or flat after ending Channie's Room because it was a part of his weekly routine and was something I feel he genuinely needed to receive that reassurance and validation he gets from Stays.

[hughesyodaddy43]

Pizza solves everything ⎸ L.H

pairings: bf! Luke x fem!reader. Platonic!Ethan Edwards and Mark Estapa x reader Genre: fluff warnings: angst?,mentions of cheating, stressed reader, exam season synopsis: Lukes girlfriend gets worked up over finals. Ethan and Mark attempt to make her feel better. requested?: yes word count: 3.1k authors note: I am not from America so i don't know how exams and schooling work over there, i hope this still makes sense. i gave reader a nickname, 'missy' and will probably use that name for future Luke fics.

You groan as you type on your computer, sitting at your desk with mindless tv playing in the background. You currently live in a tiny apartment with your best friend, Ethan. It's a two bedroom and can only really house two people before feeling cramped. However it is right next to Umich and is far more convenient than living in the dorms. 

You only started living with Ethan last year, after your previous roommate moved out and you needed someone to share utilities with. Seeming as though Luke was leaving for New Jersey and Ethan never left your house anyway - it seemed only logical that he started paying rent.

Having a boyfriend in the NHL is both a blessing and a curse, the blessing being the fact that your hot boyfriend is in the NHL and the curse being that everyone else thinks he is hot too. 

You never were the jealous type, or at least not before you saw all the girls that crowded Luke when he went to parties. Something in you cringed when you saw how awkward he got when denying girls, it was common that you'd have to step in otherwise that man would have just stood there like a statue the entire encounter. It wasn't like he would ever cheat on you, you were confident that he wouldn't. However when your hair is fitted to a much darker shade then the girls he interacts with, it's hard to not think about him wanting a more ‘conventional’ Hockey Girlfriend. 

Luke is always first to tell you he doesn't care about that stuff and you believe him, but when you haven't called him in days, sometimes weeks, it gets less easy to control the unsettling feelings.

Everytime you call with Luke, it's always cut short, whether it’s Ethan banging on your door at 11 o’clock  for a ‘late night snack’ or Jack barging in to argue with Luke about something, you never get to talk about what you're really feeling. 

Because of the distance and lack of communication, the relationship has been a bit strained, it's not like you could tell if luke felt the same since he's too busy sleeping or playing hockey to communicate that with you. You were so proud of Luke, no doubt about it, however something in you boiled when he only ever mentioned hockey during the ten minute phone calls.

Since the last phone call you had with him, you've only really exchanged small text messages every couple hours. It was upsetting that you couldn't talk to your boyfriend about everything going on but it was also a nice way to get away so you can finish up and focus on all the upcoming exams.

You had your next one tomorrow and really needed to knuckle down and get studying for it. You've managed to get what you needed done for tonight so you thought you'd call Luke for a final call before bed.

After wriggling comfortably against your pillows, you lean against your head board. bringing your phone up close to your ear, you press the dial on luke's contact  listening closely to the ringing sound on the other end.

Ring 

Ring 

Ring 

Your breath hitches as you hear Lukes voice on the other end, only this time it was his voicemail. You take one last deep breath before shutting your phone off and sinking into your pillows. 

Your phone vibrates on your nightstand and you view a message from your best friend and biggest hater, Ethan.

House rat: the team got too much pizza, if you're still up I can bring you some?

House rat : Silence speaks volumes missy 

Pissy missy : no. i'm just asleep

Pissy missy : You're disturbing my slumber 

House rat: oh well pizza is good for your soul. Mark is coming too ;)

Pissy missy: Fuck.

You sigh and put your phone back down, wiping your eyes, you sit up against the headboard once again and pull your computer onto your lap, Resuming your place in your essay.

“MISSY  COME HERE GIRL” Ethan calls out from the front door, walking towards your room in long strides. He bursts through the door with a box of pizza in his hand and makes his way to sit at the end of your bed, Mark slowly entering behind him. Mark moves to sit further on the bed, next to Ethan, pulling out a piece of pizza from the box.

“How are you?” Mark asks as he stuffs his face with the crust.

You sigh, reaching to rip a piece of pizza from the rest, bringing it up close to your lips

“Been okay, I guess” you take a bite, avoiding eye contact with the two boys in front of you “are you sure? You've seemed a bit distant'' Mark asks “im fine.” you say, taking another big bite of the saucy crust “are you sur-” “I'm fine so quit asking” you yell, adding an edge of venom to your words. Taking the boys by surprise “wow, someones a bit extra pissy tonight” Ethan adds. 

That's when something in your throat tightens, you feel yourself bubbling over. You don't understand why, your whole nickname stems from the fact that you get pissy from time to time but it feels like that was the last straw.

Tears begin filling your eyes, vision goes blurry as you feel your cheeks burn up. Sniffles are heard as the boys go silent before you. Tears drip onto the final bite of your pizza.

“Im-sorry-i-just-so-stressed-and-upset-and-luke-hasnt-been-talking-to-me-and-i-miss-him-and-i-think-hes-gonna-breakup-with-me-and-im-just-so-sad-and-i-dont-mean-to-be-mean-but-im-just-so-angry” you hurry through muffled sobs as your eyes go red and your sinuses block up.

“Woah hey hey, Missy i didn't mean to make you upset.” Ethan says , leaning forward to meet your eyes

“Yeah, talk to us..but a bit slower please” Mark says softly, careful to not make you cry again.

You take a deep breath, lifting your head up to see the two young hockey boys worried faces, your lip quivers slightly as you breathe in and out, ready to spill out what has been hurting you.

“I don't know, I'm just so stressed with these exams and I think I'm gonna do fine but I'm just scared.” you start, trying to get one problem out at a time 

“I know for a fact that you'll do fine in your exams and assignments” Ethan comforts “yeah! you're like the smartest person i know!” Mark chimes

“Thanks.. It's not just that tho” you say, sniffling a bit as tears continue down your face and onto your swollen lips, the taste of salt sinks into your mouth. The Hockey players stay silent, waiting patiently for you to continue. 

“Luke and I haven't really been talking and I think he wants to break up.”

 The boys share a knowing glance but say nothing. 

“And you know i've seen all the girls jack brings home, the pretty blonde girls i mean what if luke met one of them and they fell in love” you say, growing more and more hysterical as each thought processes through your head.

Logically you new Luke would never cheat but with your emotions running high you couldnt help but think that  Luke had fucked the entire female poplutation of new jersey ranging from 18-25 by now.

“And all he every talks about when we do call is stupid fucking hockey” you rise your voice slightly before looking at the boys 

“no offence” you add, placing your hands in your lap and finishing your pizza

 “ he didn't even answer my call tonight” you finish, the last sentence being muffled as you swallow your food. 

To your surprise the boys stay silent and stare at each other with Ethan looking down at his phone then back up at mark then sharing a look back to you.

“OMG SO HE IS GONNA BREAK UP WITH ME” you scream, tears streaming down your face harder 

“WHAT NO NO NO” the boys choir, eyes wide.

“Then why are you looking at eachother like that? And who the fuck are you messaging at 12o’clock at night???” you yell pointing towards ethan. 

“No-no one” ethan adds, throwing his phone away to the end of the bed.

Mark moves to sit next to you, throwing an awkward arm around you in a comforting embrace 

“missy, he's probably not gonna break up with you'' Mark adds 

“PROBABLY??” you cry 

“NONO he means he is NOT going to break up with you” Ethan interjects, throwing a pointed look at Mark “oh yeah sorry that's what i meant” Mark stuttered

You groan loudly as your head flys back onto your pillows, you bury yourself into your blanket

“Okayyy so you're tired so we're gonna get outta here” Ethan says, dragging the pizza off your bed with Mark sliding off behind him.

“Good night, Missy'' Mark says, patting your head, peeking out slightly 

“Good night!!” Ethan yells from the kitchen with a mouthful of pizza.

X

X

You wake up to the blaring sound of your alarm, you look at your phone that reads ‘7 am’ and still you have no response from Luke. You sigh and remove yourself from your bed, making your way towards the shared bathroom you have with Ethan. 

You walk down the hall and pass Mark who is sleeping soundly on the couch, you continue walking and stop by  Ethan's room, you peer in to see him sprawled out on his bed, keeping note that you should keep quiet as you get ready so you don't wake the two up prematurely.

You take time in your shower to clear your mind, enjoying the warm hug as the water runs down your back and soothes your sore neck. You recite in your head that everything will be okay and to just focus on your exam first, then worry about whatever bullshit Luke is pulling.you finish your shower and get dressed in warm attire. You pair your favourite long sleeve shirt with your fav baggy sweats and continue on with your hair and makeup. Finishing up, you leave the bathroom and are met with the inviting smell of fresh breakfast.

Walking down the hallway you are met with Mark and Ethan who have both woken up and are now stuffing their faces with every breakfast food you own.

“Good morning” you say, giggling slightly 

“Morning” Mark says, eyes still drawn to the tv 

“Heyy, do you want a bagel?” Ethan asks, walking over towards you “you're gonna need some brain food” he adds 

“Maybe not, i'm too nervous to eat right now” you say

“Hmm, are you sure? What about I make you one for later?” he asks

“Maybe next time” you say as you turn on your heels back to your room, rummaging through your cupboard you find a comfy hoodie to throw over your body to keep you warm and toasty throughout your exam. You pack up your bag and walk back out into the kitchen. You then return back to your room, retrieving your charging phone. 

“Missy, do you need a ride?” Ethan asks 

“Nah, the walk will be nice for me, good way to clear my head” you add, walking back out of your room. 

You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulders 

“Thank you by the way, for last night” you add looking back towards Ethan and Mark 

“No problemo, i'm sure you'll feel better soon” Mark says, turning his head to give you a cheeky wink 

You giggle a bit as You look back at ethan confusion still evident in your face 

“Don't listen to him, he's weird” Ethan adds as he walks towards you to give you a pat on the back “you'll do great” 

“Thank you” you say as you move out the door and towards school.

X

X

The timer blares through the room as everyone stands , making their way towards the teachers desk to send off their papers. You sit there for a minute, staring down at your paper, revising everything you wrote down. The girl beside you nudges you out of your trance as she waits for you to stand up and hand you paper i with her. All you can do is quietly walk your way down the daring stares that lead to the front of the class. You hand in your work with a deep breath and make your way back to your previous seat, ready to go home and eat your feelings. 

“How do you think you went?” the girl beside you asks as you both walk out of the room,

“Um i think i did okay, passable i hope” you responde 

“I'm sure you did great, you wrote a lot more than i did”

“Hmm how do you think you went?” you ask 

“Good.. i hope”

“You did good, i know it”

“Thanks, missy. I was gonna ask before but how's everything going with Luke? Are you gonna see him soon?” she asks

“Maybe, idk. We haven't been talking too much recently”

“Aww thats a shame well i hope all goes well”

“Yeah, thanks”

“Bye missy” she exits the conversation, making her way over to her next class 

“Bye” you add, thankful that this was the only class you had scheduled for the day.

The walk home was calming , the cold breeze blowing on your face created a refreshing cooling to your hot body as you walked through the campus, passing a couple friends and saying hi briefly before separating.

You make your way to your apartment, trudging up the stairs in a final burst of energy. Unlocking the door you walk into your heated apartment, looking down as you remove your bag, take off your hoodie and hang your keys up, not making note of the tall figure sitting on the bar stools next to your kitchen. 

You turn around and are met with Luke - your boyfriend. The man who you love. The man who's been ignoring you. 

“Hey baby” he says, standing up to walk towards you

You take a step back, anger and confusion plastered on your face 

“Well at least you have the courtesy to do it in person” you say, crossing your arms over your body, sliding your sleeves over your knuckles.

Luke looms over at you, he stares in confusion, trying to read your emotions.

“What are you talking about?” 

Your gaze leaves the floor and meets his, anger bubbling inside your stomach 

“You wanna break up?” you say bluntly, mono toned and unnatural 

“What?? No ??Why would you think that?” Luke argues, voice becoming higher and his breath itching slightly at the information that his girlfriend thinks he drove 9 and a half hours just  to break up with her.

“Are you serious? No call? no text? no nothing, not even a stupid instagram reel and you think my mind wouldn’t wander to that?” you say, stepping forward at each word, announcing your words with a spit of fury.

“I did call and I did text” Luke defends, hands slapping against his sides.

“Barely, Luke we only called for ten minutes a week and all you talked about was stupid hockey and I love hockey but that's all you would talk about. And not to mention the dry messages I mean we barely even talked like normal people, just robots with no love for each other.” you rant on, eyes feeling heavy as tears glistened in your sockets, afraid to let them fall you do your best to blink them away before luke notices.

“Missy” Luke whispers, snaking his hands to your forearms 

“I was only trying to give you space, I knew you would get stressed with your upcoming finals so I wanted to give you as much time as you needed to study. I didn't mean to be dry and unloving towards you” his voice was soothing and calm, his fingers brushing lightly on your clothed arms.

“Well it was a dumb decision” you grumble, earning a snicker from luke 

“yeah , it was and I'm sorry.” he agrees 

“So why are you here then? If you aren't gonna break up with me?”

“I was planning to come down after your finals were finished, I was originally driving in tomorrow but Ethan messaged me last night telling me to come early” 

“Oh. so that's why they were acting weird” you say, reciting the events of last night in your head.

“Yeah, Do you know why he said that?” 

“Well i was a bit emotional last night, i was crying while stuffing my face with pizza” you laugh looking back up at luke.

“Oh my, so is that why Ethan sent me 43  messages at midnight?” Luke adds, smiling to himself before pulling up his phone to show you the absurdly concerning amount of texts from the boy.

“I'll take it that Ethan and Mark were not very good at comforting you?” he says, sitting back down on the bar stool and pulling you to stand in between his legs 

“They weren't too bad , maybe not the best tho” you say, giggling slightly at the situation 

Silence fills the room for a bit before luke speaks up 

“I'm sorry I caused you so much stress, I love you and I wouldn't trade you for the world. Maybe I should try and talk to you more and not just about hockey, hm?” he speaks, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear 

“Yes please” you smile before leaning in to give him a deep kiss. You both pull away before going back in for a warm and comforting hug, swaying slightly.

“I don't know about you but i'm starving, do you wanna go get some food?” Luke asks, speaking into the crook of your neck 

“mhm, exams make me hungry and that breakfast bar Ethan snuck into my bag wasn't very filling” you add, moving so you can look at Luke once more, placing a delicate kiss on his lips 

“About Ethan, should I talk to him about how pizza doesn't solve every problem?” 

You giggle at his comment, staring softly into his muddy blue eyes before being interrupted by Ethan opening his door 

“PIZZA SOLVES EVERYTHING” he shouts just before slamming his bedroom door closed.

“He's been home this whole time?” I ask Luke 

“Who do you think let me in?” Luke chimes, smirking down at you.

wriggling out of his arms its not long till you're pulled back by a  gentle hand on your wrist 

“Wait, I  gotta ask how your exam went” Luke asks, hands sneaking around my waist and resting on my lower back.

“It went okay, i didn't give up so that's good” i say, shrugging.

“Mhm good, never give up” he says, finishing his comment by  patting my head.

Silence is left between us once again, eyes frowning as he tries to read my expression 

“I missed you, Lukey. Don't pull that shit again”

“I missed you too, and judging by how angry you were when you came home i definitely won't” he says as we both make our way out the door and down the stairs.

[tan1shere]

Slumber Party pt 2

A/n: think I've sorted it ! Yayy so if you would like a part 3 let me know ;) (repost)

Summary: like the song slumber party. Ellie thinks she can treat you better then your shitty girlfriend

Warnings: heavy smut, cunnilingus, Dom but soft Ellie (in a way???), riding, touching, alcohol, mentions of smoking, strap usage, pet names. If there's anything else I missed, pls lmk !!

Pt 1 here ! ~ pt 3 here!

It had been a few weeks from the last incident. Everything was pretty normal (for your living) Isabel would occasionally scold you for this or that but never yelled since that one time. You were happy about that as it always made you feel so empty inside like someone had grabbed your chest, yanked your heart and stomped on it. Even if you didn't necessarily love Isabel anymore the situation was hard. You knew you could go to Ellie, but that left you with that weak feeling again. Like you couldn't fend for yourself. You refused to reach out for help until it got to the point where it was bad. Incredibly bad. And that was today. A day before Isabel was suppose to go away to New York. You were cleaning, cooking meals.

You even packed her bag for her while she was at work. Like you had been asked to do. You were always like this growing up. The relationship didn't change you. You always go by the rules and making people happy. If you didn't you felt empty. You felt like you failed them. "I'm home." She calls out sounding tense, dropping her bangs down in an angry manner, but you didn't hear her as you were in the shower. She looks around to see some food. Ones she would take with her and the dinner for that night. She noticed something she didn't request on the list. First mistake of the night. She came into the bedroom to look for you finding her suitcase. She looked at it done differently to how she usually does it. You come out of the bathroom wrapped in your towel. "God you're pathetic. Can't follow simple instructions. Can you!"

You stand there shocked. "I've had a shit day to come home to more. Shit." "Iz-" She strides closer looking furious. "You are so fucking useless." She spat with fury. Raising her hand landing a slap to your face. You quickly put your hand over it before your gasping, widening your eyes, as she wraps her hand round your neck. "You will get changed. Do the meals I ask, and pack my suitcase the way I want. Got it." You nod desperate to get some air into your lungs. Relieved when she finally let's go. You let out a few coughs, watching as she walks out of your bedroom.

You start to bawl your eyes out as you try to calm down, when you get a call from Ellie but you're too scared right now to even answer. Getting dressed and trying to regain your composure as you start on your bag. Now, this was very unlike you to ignore her calls, and especially not say anything on why, soon after. She starts blowing up your phone panicking. You haven't told ellie about the abusiveness. But she's had a bad feeling for awhile now that she may hurt you. You go to look at your phone for a quick second.

"Oh no you don't." You see Isabel coming over to you, snatching your phone. "Hey!" She does the unspeakable and smashes it on the floor. "No!" You look down at it then at her. "What did I say?" You stand there out of pure shock. "Answer me damn it." You look back at her. "I- I was about to-" She stares at you, about to turn away when you think of Ellie and how strong she is. Embody her Y/n. Do it. "No." You whisper slightly, but she hears. "What was that?" You keep looking at her. "If you don't like it you should've done it yourself cuz I've been working all day on i-" She storms towards you nearly knocking you off your feet with a punch to the face. Inaudible.

You feel frozen, stunned. Like everything has stilled, you start to hear a ringing in your ear at the impact. "Dont EVER speak to me like that again. Do you hear me?" Tears flow like a streaming river. "Do you fucking hear me." Blood can be felt dripping. "Y-yes.. sorry." You try and gain balance but feel incredibly light headed. "I'm sick of this." She says, heading for the front door, she is met with an angry and concerned looking Ellie. "Do whatever the fuck you want I don't give a shit anymore." She screams as she leaves for the car. Ellie knits her eyebrows together as she watches her leave. She walks in the house, beginning to hear sobs, she sprints into the bedroom to be met with you on the floor, blood dripping down your nose, it smeared on your hands as you try desperately to stop it from flowing even more. "Shit, fuck."

Ellie curses as she comes closer to you, kneeling on the ground. "I- I yelled at her and it- I got-" You try explaining. "Shh sh. Tell me later ok?" You just gently nod as she tries to get you on the bed, on a more comfortable surface. "Don't panic, I'm just going to get some towels and such, I'll be right back." You nod yet again. Trying to focus on her. Her words. She comes back not long after with the supplies she will need. "Hold this to your nose and tilt your head back a bit, can you do that for me?" Again, you nod, doing exactly as she says. She sighs. "I had a feeling she was like this. Why didn't you try to tell me?"

She softens her look. Her voice. "I was afraid she'd find out and do worse.. I'm sorry." She shakes her head. "Never be sorry for something that isn't your fault." Once she's done she looks at you, looking at the bruises on your face. "I'm sorry she did this to you angel, I really am." You look down at your hands. Not sure how to speak right now. But she knows that. She goes closer to you bringing you in for a hug. You sink into it. Into her touch. You missed being held like this. It felt special, especially when she was the one hugging you.

You woke up the next morning to Ellie being gone. You were saddened but you look to your side to see a note. 'When she leaves tomorrow I'm coming to pick you up. You don't need to be there, there's no point.' It was obviously Ellie who wrote it you can tell by her messy handwriting. You look at the clock that was on the wall reading the time. It was right when Isabel was suppose to be leaving. You had slept for a few hours. You touch your nose remembering the events of yesterday, feeling it had dried but still sore. Suddenly you hear the front door being opened and a suitcase being dragged on the hardwood floor. Getting up to go see her leaving. "I'll be back in a week." She says coldly. You nod gently, watching as she leaves. Once you know she has you let out a deep sigh, looking around the room, going to the fridge as you were hungry. Scavenging for something tasty you settle on a

cheese stick. Simple but enough for you. That sentiment reminded you of Ellie a little bit. She was very simple, the way she lived her life. But enough for you. She was perfect. You shake your head out of those thoughts like you always do but a tiny bit linger. It was no lie how she would make you feel, whenever she would talk about space, art, dinosaurs. Your heart would flutter. You loved listening to her pretty voice talk about her interests. It inspires you to dive into your passion. But that'd never become reality. Just a simple dream. You wanted to be a designer. Whether it was clothes. Furniture. You loved making everything tidy, and pretty. In an order that was well planned out. It was your little thing. And the only person who knew of this dream was Ellie. She'd tell you to chase after it, but with how you lived, there was no chance of that ever happening. So you like to daydream about it. You walk over to the couch sitting down, only for a split second when you hear a car pull up outside. You listen. It was Ellies car. It was old but she loved it. Which made you love it. You finish your cheesey goodness before grabbing your shoes and heading out to the car, you smile as she notices you. To which she returns that smile. "Hey you. Sleep alright?" You give her a small shrug. "It was alright. The pain wasn't subsiding at all though." You let out a breath through your nose at the thought, whincing as the cold air makes it sting a bit.

"We will just have to take it easy. I still think you should consider my offer-" You immediately shake your head. "Its fine, maybe this trip will do her good." You state. "Or make her more agitated." Ellie mumbles. You hear her clearly. "But we aren't worrying about that we are having a fun filled week. I have a new drawing to show you. I went down to the beach and sat in my car, I saw these seagulls fight over a burger bun. Quite entertaining if you ask me." That makes you let out a soft giggle. "Can't wait to see how you drew that." She smiles at your giggle. "You're gunna love it!"

Once you arrived at Ellies home you take a breath in. It always smelt earthy, in the best way possible. "You can take my bed-" She began but you cut her off. "I'm staying here?" She nods. "While she's away, I'd hate for you to be alone." You look around for a second. "You really want me here?" You look at her. "Why wouldn't I?" She laughs slightly at your question. You nod, going over to the couch. "But please, I can take the couch, this is your place after all!" She simply shakes her head. "I want you to be comfortable." "But I am Els. I'm always comfortable when I'm here." She takes a moment to look at you, then remembers. "Ahah! Almost forgot to show you the amazingness." She stands up fully, going over to her art room and coming back with her sketch book. You wait in anticipation to see this drawing. She opens it out so you can see it. "Tada!" She speaks in triumphant. You smile wide as you observe the sketch of the seagulls. "I adore it Els!" She then goes to turn the page, you guessed to show something else but she realizes what it was soon after. It was a sketch of you. "Oh fuck, that's not important but, the seagulls were going crazy over that burger patty, I started cracking up laughing-" You can't help but think of the drawing of you. "You've drawn me before?" You look at her, puzzled but interested. "It was just-" She sighs.

"You were just sitting there, you looked so peaceful. I guess you inspired me.. you inspire me alot actually." She goes to flip the page again showing you more. "I never wanted to say anything in case you thought it was creepy or something." You have known Ellie for how long and she's still thinking like this? "Els. I'm so flattered. I could never be creeped out. If anything I'm honored to inspire your art." She smiles at you. "Well I'm glad because I'd really like to do more. Ones where you're actually looking at me. I tried to do already existing photos but it didn't feel right. Wasn't in the moment." She states. You love how beautifully she would always words such things. It made your heart swell. Was that wrong? You were with someone already. Not a very nice someone, but thats besides the point. Not to mention Ellie was your best friend. You shouldn't ruin that as she's the only true person in your life right now. You gotta push these feelings aside. "So what happens in a day to day life of the Ellie Williams?" She smiles at your words, plopping on the couch and leaning back into the cushions. "Well nothing that exciting. I mean I can do whatever I please whenever I please. Usually I'll wake up late, maybe have something to eat. Watch TV. Just boring stuff. Maybe have a small time to smoke but that's about it."

You nod as you listen. That's one of the things she loved about you. How you'd listen. Especially when she'd say something stupid (Only she would think that) You would just give a gentle smile and nod, signaling that you were taking in everything she said. "Why don't you draw me now?" She looks at you. "Yeah?" You nod. "Alright then." She stands, heading to her art room to get some stuff. "Here wear these." She hands you some petite round glasses, with a thin black rim. "You have props?" "Why ofcourse I do." You smile at her and put them on. They had no lense so you could see just fine. You look at her waiting for what she wanted you to do. She looks at you thinking. "I want you to hold this book. Put your legs up and rest them on your knees. Then." She ponders some more. She goes to ruffle your hair a bit. "Els!" She shh's you. "Let me do ma thang." She moves a bit of your hair over your face having one of your beautiful eyes poking out with the glasses. "And perfect. Not that I needed to do much."

She smiles. You feel heat rise to your cheeks. She always talks to you like this, why are you now reacting? She begins to sketch, while you sit there looking at her. Admiring how concentrated she was. She would occasionally chew on her lip as she looked at the page, even sticking a bit of her tongue out while biting it. You saw the way her features lit up as she looks at you. You were infact. Falling inlove with Ellie. And you don't think there was any way of stopping it.

It was a few days later, you were in the kitchen making food for the both of you as she then walks in the room. "Woah there whatcha doin?" You turn around to look at her. "Just making breakfast." You smile wide at her. She chuckles. "Uh uh. You aren't in that hel lhole no more, you don't need to be doing that. We can just order something. Relax for once." She flops on the couch. And for once you decide to do so going over to her and sitting by her. "I was thinking of inviting my friend over tonight, you remember Dina right? She will possibly bring her boyfriend but I just wanted to see what you thought about it." You look at her. "Sooo like a small party?" She thinks of a response. "I guess so, but it'll just be the 4 of us, I would really like if you got to know them, they will really like you I promise!" She smiles at you. "Sounds fun to me." You return the smile.

Things had been going good. You were all laughing, enjoying yourselves. You were into your third drink now. Just honestly glad you decided to. "I was really missing out!" You take another sip but Ellie takes it and sets it down. "Slow down angel- you don't want to rush into it." You just giggle, making her smile at your slightly tipsy state. "Remember old times in school. We would always play truth or dare, or. What are the odds!" Dina explains. "Oh no, I know where this is going. 'Let's play it'." Ellie mocks her voice. "Well duh, lets do it!" Ellie shakes her head laughing. "What are we 12?" Dina nods. "Yes. Yes I am. Right who's starting?" At school you'd never get invited to parties. (Is it obvious?) Even if you did, you'd never attend one. It wasn't your thing. So you never had played nor known much about these games. "Y/n. Truth or dare?"

So when Dina asked you, you decided to go for the safest option. As you had seen on TV in random romances. "Truth." You smile softly. "Have you ever had a three way?" She smirks. "Dina she probably doesn't know what that is." You think back to all the things Ellie has told you about but you never once heard her utter those terms. "I haven't no." You look at Ellie. "Guys you should know she's not really into this sort of thing." Dina looks at you. "That's ok, we can do something else if you don't want to play this." You look at her as she gives you a smile.

"Oh no that's alright. I don't mind playing it's just not going to be very interesting as I haven't done anything." She furrows her brows. "Nothing? At all?" "I've only ever kissed someone and that's my partner currently. She's the only one I've kissed." Ellie looks at you. "Wait only her? You've had other girlfriends-" You nod as she's right. "We weren't really with eachother long enough for us to get to that stage." Dina smirks. "And you said it wouldn't be interesting. If anything this is more intriguing." You laugh gently at her words.

You were saying your goodbyes to Dina and Jesse. You turn around, facing Ellie once they're gone. It might be the alcohol talking but she looked really good right now. You stalk closer towards her. She smiles at you. "Come on I think you need some rest." She takes a few steps closer but you just look at her dumbly. "Did you know you're all I've been thinking about all night." You blurt out, unable to control anything at the moment. "Y/n you're drunk. Let's get to bed-" "kiss me." She widens her eyes in shock. Not exactly sure how to respond. "Go on Els. You can." She sighs. "I wish you had this much confidence sober." She goes to grab you bringing you to her bedroom to get you to lay down. She had made you sleep in her bed. There was honestly no turning it down as she kept insisting on it, so that's where you slept the whole time you were there.

"Ellieeee." You whine out. "Go to sleeeep." She trys to get you to stay down. Failing as you're a mess right now. "Atleast stay with me." She sighs again. "Pleaseeee." You try and Ellie being Ellie, she caves in. Getting in with you and bringing you close to her. You look up to her smiling. You decide to just lean in anyway and give her a messy peck to the lips. She's shocked to say the least. She freezes. In all honesty, she can't believe it had happened at all.

She would always think about it. How soft your lips would be. How much she'd be able to kiss you better then that asshole you're with. She knew she could. She let her thoughts wander. Thinking about your body, how she'd treat you just how you should be treated. She wanted to badly. She snaps out of these thoughts as you snuggle into her. She let it. This has been what she wanted. She couldn't though. What on earth was she gunna do now.

You woke up the next morning to a slight headache. Not horrid but it was definitely there. You genuinely don't remember much, that is until you turn your head to see Ellie fast asleep. You widen your eyes, suddenly regaining memory of the events. Oh shit. That's incredibly embarrassing. You kissed her? So carelessly. That is not how you wanted that to go whatsoever. You gently sit up, feeling her stir at your dumb attempts to be quiet. "Good morning you." She looks at you with a tired expression. Then she remembers. Sitting up also. Awkward. So incredibly awkward. It's not like you haven't hugged Ellie before or anything. Nor cuddled.

So why is it incredibly awkward. Because your dumbass kissed her. Better yet while drunk. You remember how it felt though. Amazing to say the least. Incredible even. But she's your best friend. Not to mention you're still with Isabel. Oh my god. You cheated. That begins to play over and over in your head along with the lines of 'you're a bad person' You don't even want to think about it. So you get up and head out into the living room, leaving Ellie to feel more awkward and confused. This wasn't good.

It was a day later from the mishap. You didn't even speak to one another. You still panicked over the fact you had 'cheated' you were going stir crazy. Ellie was also thinking similar. Not about the 'cheating' because in all fairness she couldn't give a shit, she knew Isabel would have deserved it. She's worried about you, and your thoughts. Are you going to distance yourself from her? Are you going to try forget the moment. She tried to guage your emotions. Something she would always do pretty well. But not this time. You were currently watching TV. Ellie had, had enough of the silence. "I enjoyed it." Was the only thing she thought to say.

Only thing that seemed less stupid that came to her mind. You turn around to look at her. "W-what?" You were confused, but also starting to get nervous. "I like you. There's no doubt about it. Actually, no I don't like you Y/n I love you. And I can't just sit here and watch that bitch keep on hurting you when I know for a fact I could treat you so much better, and that kiss is doing all sorts to my brain right now I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop thinking about how stupidly I didn't kiss back-" You stand to meet her, still smaller than her but you swiftly grab her shirt and pull her into you. Forcefully kissing her again. She was shocked, but this time kisses back almont immediately.

She grabs ahold of your waist pulling you impossibly closer to her. It was heating up. And fast. You two pull away for air, to think about this all. But neither of you wanted that you just wanted to do. She grabs your cheeks to kiss you again. Missing the feeling of how soft they really were. And in all honesty. They were better then she imagined. She slowly pushes you gently onto the couch, climbing on you, not once breaking the heated kiss you two were having. She moves her knee in between your legs subconsciously. You let out a small breath at the feeling. She starts to move the kiss to your jaw. Then your neck. "Els.." You let out a content sigh. "Is this alright?"

You nod, eagerly, for more. "I'm not going to lie to you Y/n. I've dreamt about this. Dreamt of how I was your first and how I could make you feel amazing. Better then you even think she could." You stare at her as she speaks. "God I've been waiting for years." She says hungrily going in to kiss you again, starting to take your shirt off leaving you with nothing as you usually didn't really wear a bra. She devoured the fact you didn't. Immediately leaning down to suck on your newly hardened nipples. You let out a long shakey moan at the feeling, finally getting what you've wanted but been too scared for. There was no denying it. You were not, scared no more. You wanted it all. You wanted her. And she couldn't of folded for you any more. She trails those sucks down slowly to your small shorts.

She takes them off with the same pace. Letting out her own slight moan as she sees more of you. Sees how the thin fabric of your underwear clings to you, especially now that she's gotten you worked up, wet. She hums to herself. "Wonder who did that. Huh, baby?" She taunts, knowing it was her work. She goes to take them off completely leaving you completely naked. You didn't mind but you grab at her bicep. She got what you were hinting at. "All in good time angel. All in good time." She wanted to savor this. Make it longer. But she also didn't want to wait any longer then she had been. For years on end. And neither did you. You wanted to feel all the amazing feelings. Especially with Ellie. She strips off her hoodie leaving her in her wife beater.

"I can't wait any longer." She dives down to your needy core, wasting absolutely no time, eating you out like it's her last meal. She knew she should go slow but she just couldn't resist. You obviously don't mind. "Els.. Fuck-" You let out a slightly louder moan at the way she's moving her tongue in you. It was long, there was no doubt about it. And very skilled. She twists and turns it, occasionally moving up to your clit, flicking it every so often for a different sensation. You roll your hips into her mouth and arch your back. Making your head lay back into the couch as you relish in this beyond amazing feeling. You shakily sigh as you begin to feel a indescribable feeling in your lower tummy. Ellie feels you clench around her tongue so she knows you're also close.

But she suddenly gets a small idea before she makes you have the most jaw dropping orgasm. She takes her phone out and gets Isabel's number, she had from awhile back when you gave it to her just in case of- anything really. She goes to type, feeling so pussy drunk right now. She was enjoying how you taste like crazy.

She smirks against your skin at the reply, setting her phone down and speeding up her movements. "Ellie..." You sigh out, in between a moan. She hums. "Let go for me pretty. I've got you. Yeah baby. Cum all over my face." That just about makes you break, with her words, her voice, her tongue her mouth- you let out one of the loudest moans that you've ever mustered up. Feeling your body shake as you cum all over Ellies face. You watch as her eyes roll back enjoying that way too much. She eats it all. Laps it up. Running her hands along your thighs, soothing them from the shakeyness. You lay there, incredibly out of breath, wondering what on earth had just happened.

"I'm not done with you yet sweet girl. Whether or not this is the last time I get to do this, I'm making it worth it." She says standing up off the couch, holding her hand out. You take it, cautiously standing with her. She takes you to her bedroom and gets you to lay down. "I think about using this on you. How you'd struggle." She declares, holding the strap in hand. You only know what its called because of her, how she'd use it on all these girls. Now you get the privilege of getting fucked by her with it. "But I don't want to rush you. Even if you are ready." She sits on the bed, maneuvering to lay down. "I want you to come sit on my lap, and ride it. You think you can do that for me?"

You nod, swiftly going to her lap, excited to. "Good girl." She breathes out going to put it on. You feel weak as she says that, and for the first time in, well. Ever. You don't even care. Once she's done you go to hover over it, her slender hands holding the base. "Sink down for me- there you go baby." She grunts as you lower yourself slowly but surely. You let out a small whimper at this new profound feeling. Resting your hands on her torso, once you're comfortable enough you begin to move. Easing yourself into this feeling of complete and utter pleasure. You let your mouth hang open as she grabs ahold of your hips. "That's it, shit. You learn so fucking well. So incredibly good for me aren't you." You nod, biting your lip with a small whine. "God I can't wait to fuck you dumb into this mattress. It will happen I count on it."

The way she says these filthy things makes your pussy flutter, she leans her beautiful hands up to your breast, squeezing with ease. "I feel you hugging me tight angel. I know you're close." She knows she can't truly feel it but she feels the way your struggling as your walls begin to squeeze up around the strap. You let out a struggled hum, feeling as though you could burst at any moment.

"Come on pretty girl. Let go for me." She says softly but oh how dirty it really was. You nod, as you can feel it approaching.

"That's it, such a good girl." She grunts, leaning a hand to your aching clit,  rubbing small circles. It sends you over the edge, cumming with another loud moan, feeling the liquid drip down your thighs. She then feels herself cum in her boxers. The harshness of your movements causing the friction to impact on her, she felt just as amazing. You flop onto her chest, exhausted and heavy eyed. You feel her strong arms wrap around your tired, fragile figure, feeling warm and content. "You're mine. And you always will be. No matter what, or who. Mine, angel. Mine." She says into your hair, as you fall into a deep, blissful sleep.

[vanilladaises-rp]

“Hmmm?” Emry hums as she hears a voice behind her. She’s mid-bite into some tiny sandwich, so all she can really do is humm. Behind her she finds a very pretty and almost sharp looking girl. Emry chews and swallows as fast as she can. “You mean Chan?,” she says, “Well, technically we’ve only been on one date. I don’t know if that constitutes as fully dating… it’s not really my area of expertise… dating that is.” Emry reaches a hand out to shake. “I’m Emry,” she greets, “and you’re far prettier by the way.”

🍓

(Ooof who do I want to interact with??? Well, I don’t know any of the female muses that well, and girl friend would be nice. Felix seems like he’d make an adorable friend. And Jungkook would be amusing to chat with. Plus he was my main bias for a good number of years, before I got into stray kids. Idk. Maybe throw whoever you think would make for fun interactions at Emry??)

Jiwoo forms a small smirk on her face “Ah, so I still have a chance then” She teases before picking one of the glasses of wine being served “Chan is his name? Hmm, do you like him? If you ask me he seems too nice” Jiwoo scowls as she looks at him from afar, Chan’s eyes laying on her as well. Henry had mentioned a thing or two about Jiwoo at their previous meeting, of course neither were good which made Chan worry, and bit curious as to why she was talking to you. What did she want? Was she bulling you? Chan really didn’t want to treat you like a child or seem over protective even though he can be so he tried his best to stay calm.

“Although I do agree he smells like a dog” Another female joined in, this one being a little taller and having long black hair “They look good together” She sent a small smile to Emry, holding a small glass of what appears to be some sort of margarita. Sunmi actually didn’t care for your relationship at all, her intentions were to help new friend Jiwoo “Patience is a virtue, wait and she will come to you” she whispered to Jiwoo before waving at Emry and walking away. “How about we go sit down and get to know each other better” She offered.

(Okay cool! I can definitely incorporate a female bestie I was thinking either Soyeon, Jennie or Miyeon. We could also do all three! I don’t mind at all 😊🫶🏻)

[hearts4golbach]

can you make a long Johnnie x fem reader fluff?🙏🏼🫶🏼

Slumber Party.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

a/n: happy april foolsss!

i impatiently waited for my boyfriend to text and tell me he was done recording with jake. i scrolled aimlessly on tiktok, reposting videos that reminded me of johnnie. about an hour had passed before i received a text from him.

johnnie: hey baby i'll be over soon if i can still stay over :))

me: ofc you can 😭 i'll see you when you get here ❤️❤️

johnnie: i'm so excited to see you

johnnie: i've been so busy

johnnie: i miss you

me: i miss you more, now hurry up and get here

johnnie: yes ma'am

10 more minutes had passed, my heart beating faster as i heard a knock on the door. i practically sprinted towards the door, throwing it open to reveal my handsome boyfriend. he stood there with a smile on his face before pulling me in for a tight hug. i jumped up, wrapping my legs around his waist as he laughed.

"did you miss me?" he teased, running his fingers through my hair. i remove my head from the crook of his neck, giving him the look. he giggled again before leading me back to the living room. he gently dropped me on the couch before plopping down next to me. "did you have anything planned."

i nodded, "mhm. i bought cookie dough so we can make cookies and watch a movie. but, we don't have to do that." i smiled softly.

he pats my knee before standing up, "well, let's go make those cookies. are you gonna watch scary movies with me tonight?"

i roll my eyes as i open the fridge. "why are you so persistent? horror movies aren't really my thing." i complain, setting the dough out on the counter.

johnnie had already gotten the cookie sheet out. "i think you'd really like them, you just haven't gotten to see any good ones!" he protests.

"fine." i give in, earning quiet cheers from johnnie. "if you traumatize me even more, i'm going to kill you."

"whatever you say, love." he smirks before placing a kiss on my forehead.

we began to make small balls of cookie dough and placed them strategically across the pan. i made johnnie put the pan in the oven since i had always been afraid of heat. i thanked him quickly, placing a kiss on his lips before eating some of the raw cookie dough. i gathered some of the leftovers on my finger and licked it off, my mouth making a pop sound. he raised his eyebrows before doing the same.

i smacked my lips slightly. "so, i had an idea." i smile nervously, "we should do face masks."

he raised his eyebrows higher. "i mean, sure."

"do i get to post us on instagram if we do?" i plead, pressing my hands together.

he dramatically rolled his eyes, "sure."

"your fangirls are gonna eat that shit up." i teased. "we can put them on while we wait for the cookies to bake."

"yeah," he held a goofy smile on his face.

we took an adventure to the bathroom. i pulled out a container of peel off face mask that i had gotten at dollar tree, funny enough. "this shit may burn our skin off, it's from dollar tree."

"oh, whatever. my skin is fucked up anyway." he replied, covering his face and shaking his head.

"oh, shut up." i laughed. i handed him a headband. "we gotta pull your bangs back, babe."

he scrunched his nose before obliging, slipping on the slug eye headband to reveal his forehead. i took a makeup wipe and began to take off all of the excess makeup he had on. he washed his face as i did the same, taking off all my makeup then washing my face whenever he was done.

i hopped up on the counter to get to eye level with Johnnie. i squeezed some of the face mask onto my finger before spreading it all over his forehead and face. the sparkly hot pink face mask was a drastic contrast to his fully black clothing and dark hair.

he looked in the mirror, making weird faces as the face mask began to dry. "give it here, let me do yours." he giggled like a child before taking the tube from my hand.

while he was putting the pink goo all over my freshly washed face, another idea popped into my head. "what if we built a fort to watch a movie in with our cookies?" the giddiness in my voice shone through.

he smiled, "what? are we in 5th grade?" he asked me teasingly as he washed the leftover face mask off of his fingers.

"no, but what's stopping us? come on, it'll be fun!" i pleaded with him.

"i'm just messing with you, i'd love to." he admitted. he kissed me forehead, getting face mask on his lips. he laughed, "shit." he mumbled as he wiped the residue off of his mouth.

"okay, let's go heck on those cookies." i dragged him out of the bathroom back into the kitchen. as i opened the oven, a strong draft of chocolate chip cookie smell hit me. "oh my god, they smell so good." i exaggerated.

"well, are they done?" he asked impatiently.

"looks like it." i scooted out of the way so he could pull them out of the oven.

we let them cool as we migrated to the living room to make our fort. johnnie pulled in chairs from the dining room as i gathered all of my extra sheets and blankets. i made a palette on the floor and Johnnie put a chair at every corner and 2 on either side of the blankets. from the floor, we could see the tv perfectly. using teamwork, we draped a sheet over all of the chairs. finally, we tossed all of our pillows inside.

the cookers were still warm but now they were edible. i tossed a bag of popcorn in the microwave as we plated the cookies and grabbed glasses of milk and another miscellaneous drink from my fridge.

Johnnie and i crawled into the blanket fort. i leaned back into his shoulder, careful as to not get any face mask on his shirt. he smelled faintly of his cologne and the face mask. i turned on IT, specifically the one from 2017. It was one of my favorite movies, obviously. i pulled out my phone and took a picture of the two of us before setting it as my new wallpaper and posting it on instagram.

Johnnie began to pick at his now dried face mask. “i think mine is fully dried.”

“the. you can peel it off and put the scraps-“ i paused, looking for somewhere to set them for the time being. “somewhere. we can throw them away later, i don’t want to get up now.”

after i had peeled all of mine off, i curled up in johnnies arms. i leaned my head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer. we laid like that for a couple hours, adjusting as needed as we watched IT and the sequel to IT.

“you hungry?” Johnnie gently shook my shoulder, making sure i was awake. “i’ll door dash us something to eat, if you are.”

i nodded, “yeah, i am.”

“wanna order Chick-Fil-A?” he asked, scrolling through the door dash app.

i hummed, “that sounds so good right now, yes.”

he made the order. i rolled over to check my phone. it was around 1 in the morning, and surprisingly i wasn’t all that tired. Johnnie decided to turn on The Crow since i had never seen it before.

whenever the food finally arrived, we ate our hearts out and finished off the rest of the cookies we had made. we turned on another movie whenever that was over. Johnnie and i laid there in each others arms, full and content.

as both of our eyelids began to get heavy and our eyes watery, we decided to move upstairs into my bedroom. i threw myself onto the bed and Johnnie crawled in next to me, wrapping his arms around me before pulling me closer. he kissed my forehead, whispering a sweet goodnight before we both drifted off to sleep.

[elvenisms]

drunk on you —; s.h.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader [2.4k]

summary: Steve is a needy, needy drunk, and you just can't get enough of it. 18+ MDNI

cw: smut, fluff, established relationship, no use of y/n, sub!steve, dubcon (they are both drunk), unprotected p in v (don't try this at home), mention of oral (male receiving)

author's note: always need more sub!steve in my life, so i got a little carried away. my first piece of writing on tumblr in, like, 5 years. enjoy!

masterlist

Tonight was one of your favorite kinds of nights. 

Eddie’s trailer was littered with empty bags of snacks, beer bottles, and nearly bursting at the seams with how loud the music was playing. In the middle of the room, Robin and Nancy were holding hands, jumping around in a circle, screaming out the lyrics to I Wanna Dance With Somebody; they were just drunk enough to go full slumber party mode, which was highly typical. Coincidentally, Eddie was just drunk enough to sing along, sat back on the couch with a huge grin on his face.

You would’ve joined the pair, had Steve’s arms not been so cozy around you. You were sitting in his lap, hips between his thighs, his arms snugly around your waist. Now and then, he’d drunkenly rest his head on your shoulder, nuzzle his nose into the side of your face, or press a kiss to your neck. God, he’s adorable, you thought. You thought that every day, but when you were drunk, it turned into every minute or so.

During one of his nuzzles, Steve’s lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. “Take me home.” His voice was breathy, higher in pitch.

There were lots of reasons tonight was one of your favorite kinds of nights, but one in particular: Steve was a needy drunk. Needed to kiss you, needed to touch you, and needed you to take care of him. It was a special, wonderful change of pace from being constantly cared for by him—one that sent a warm, jittery feeling down your spine.

You could feel his arms around your waist tightening as he began to pepper soft kisses behind your ear, down your neck. It made thinking through the logistics of getting your drunk selves back to his house harder, to say the least. And speaking of hard…

You turned your head towards him, trying to keep it together. “We’ll have to walk. There’s no way either of us are driving.”

“I don’t care.” He replied immediately, his lips coming off of your neck just long enough to say it. 

Unsure if you could last another minute without taking him on Eddie’s couch, you redirected your attention to the group; a lull in the music made for perfect timing. “I think we’re gonna head out.” You bit back a smile, trying to be discreet. Oh, who were you kidding, Steve was still mouthing at your neck, he’d just moved to the other side now. 

Eddie laughed out loud when he noticed the spectacle, kicking his feet like a little kid. Robin did much the same. “No driving!” Nancy, as motherly as she could in her state, wagged a finger at you. “Why don’t—” She hiccuped. “Why don’t you just use Eddie’s room?”

“Absolutely the fuck not!” Came from Eddie, causing Robin to drop to the ground in an even bigger fit of giggles. Even Steve was laughing now, all five of you trying to catch your breath.

“We’re walking!” You managed to get out, patting Steve’s leg to signal you were getting up. “And I would not be caught dead banging in your room, Eds, no offense. I don’t think you’ve cleaned in… like… seven years.”

“Eight, actually.” He held back more laughter, the stupidest things hitting everyone’s funny bones at this point. Within a few moments, you and Steve were saying your sheepish goodbyes, the rest of them poking fun until the door was closed behind you.

Absolute idiots, you thought, and I love them to death.

The walk to Steve’s was cold, but the promise of what was to come paired with the alcohol in your systems made it bearable. He was all smiles and gentle touches; at one point you said you’d race him, but you both nearly fell flat on your face, so that stopped pretty quickly.

By the time you reached his door, he could hardly keep his hands off of you—clinging to you anyway he could, kissing any spot he could reach. His silly grin had been replaced with a furrowed brow and a desperate look in his eyes. He had no idea how crazy it drove you to see him like this, needing you so deliberately, hair messy, nose red from the outside air. So, as soon as you were inside the house, you kissed him with a ferocity you’d been holding back since Eddie’s. 

It was enough to make him stumble backward, but he immediately adjusted, gripping you like you might float away any moment. It was messy, a little rough, not how you’d usually handle him in this state, but you needed to get it out. Your hands slid into his hair, grabbing the strands with your fingers, and he practically whined. “Need you, baby, please.”

“I’ve got you, Stevie.” Your voice was warm and low as you thumbed across his pouting lips. “Gonna take care of you, babe. Let’s go upstairs.”

He nodded, entwining your fingers with his and leading the way to his bedroom. He immediately flopped onto the bed, causing you to giggle as you fumbled with your shoes, tossing each one aside. Soon enough, you were crawling into the bed as well, lowering yourself so that you were lying on top of him.

You put your lips on his gently, and he brought a hand up to cup your face, deepening it. “You’re so pretty like this,” You whispered between kisses, feeling him harden against your abdomen. “Needy for me.” You needed to tell him now, instead of sober, when he’d get all shy and embarrassed about it. One of these days, you’d convince him it was the sexiest thing ever. 

His hips softly bucked up against you, unintentionally, and he made a beautiful noise. “Couldn’t stop thinking…” He pushed some of your hair aside to kiss your jaw. “...At the party.”

“What were you thinking about?” You asked sweetly, hand traveling down to palm him through his jeans. “About—oh—about you r-riding me,” His hips began moving to meet your hand, fingers squeezing your hips. “Cumming in you.” God, help me, you thought. 

“I can make that happen.” You bit your lip, resisting the urge to absolutely ravish him right now. It’s always better when you wait. “Need some of these clothes off, though.”

Steve nodded, already completely lost in you, and pushed himself upright, allowing you to grab the edge of his t-shirt. You pulled it over his head, and quickly did the same to yourself, his hands immediately finding your chest as he laid back again. His eyes were open wider than they had been the past three hours, and it made you chuckle. 

“I love this one,” His fingertips traced over the red lace on your bra. “S’my favorite one.”

“I know it is.” You preened, consistently amazed at how you’d bagged the sexiest dork in history. 

His fingers traveled around your back, and it took a bit more effort than usual to undo the clasp. Once he did, though, he was kneading at your breasts, his hips beginning to cant up again. “Fuck, baby, so gorgeous,” His eyes squeezed shut, and the combination of his hands, hard-on, and praise made your breath hitch. “Need you so bad, so, so bad.”

Your head fell back, enjoying the sensation for a few more seconds, until you started toying with the button on his jeans. You were trying with all of your might to go slowly, to fight against the way your brain was going fuzzy, but Jesus Christ, you just wanted him mewling beneath you—and you knew he would be soon enough. The role reversal was intoxicating.

Both of you were nearly nude within a few moments, Steve straining even harder against his briefs as he felt the warmth pooling in your underwear. You leaned down to kiss him, lifting your hips to keep him from grinding against you, though everything in you screamed to let it continue. 

“Want you in my mouth, Stevie,” You breathed against his neck, kissing the moles there. “You want that?”

He whimpered then, at both the loss of contact and the proposition. “I do, but, don’t think I’d last,” His hands ran down you wildly, your neck, stomach, thighs, as if they wanted to be everywhere at once. “Close just from this.”

Embarrassingly, a small noise left your lips just from hearing that; it almost sounded like a beg. You quickly decided that you couldn’t deny him anything else. “That’s okay, baby.” You cooed, brushing some stray hairs away from his forehead. “Want you so bad, gonna take care of you, okay?”

He was all uh huhs and pleases now, and you moved down to slowly remove what was left between the two of you, chests heaving in anticipation. Steve was achingly hard, which made him look even larger than usual—you wanted to take a photo of him like this, a sheen of sweat on his skin, hair mussed, lips kiss-bitten and pink. A piece of heaven. 

“D’you need me to,” He panted, far too gone to form a full sentence. “Don’t want it to hurt.”

On a normal day, he was insistent about getting you ready for him, opening you up with his fingers; he refused to let you experience any kind of discomfort, unless, of course, you asked for it. You found it highly endearing that he considered it now, as desperate as he was.

“No, baby.” You laced your fingers with his, a small smile on your face. “I’m ready for you, promise. Sit up for me, yeah?”

He nodded quickly, removing his hand from yours to push up from his palms, his back now against the headboard. You moved forward to straddle him, and his hands found your waist, squeezing the skin there. “Love you so much,” You cooed, drunkenly, pressing more kisses to his jaw. “My boy.”

“My girl.” Was all Steve could manage, though you knew that meant I love you, too.

You reached between the two of you, rubbing the head of his cock between your soaked folds, and it made him keen beautifully, jaw slack, eyes closed. Finally, you began to sink down on him, elliciting a long, low moan from both of you.

“Baby, baby,” He whined, his face finding the crook of your neck, and your hand slid up the back of his neck. “I know, Stevie, feels so—” A groan broke through your lips, feeling yourself filled to the hilt. “—so good, you feel so good.”

You moved your hips, beginning to slowly grind against him. His fingers immediately dug into your back, pulling you as close as possible. His skin against yours was warm, safe, perfect. The small, choked noises he made caused you to clench around him, making his cock twitch in return. You were both completely adrift in each other, sure that the house could be burning down around you without notice. 

His hands began to wander again, searching for purchase, and you could feel his breathing grow more labored against your neck. “What do you need, baby?” You whispered softly, hips still moving at an agonizing pace. When his head tilted back, you had to choke back a sound at the way he looked. A complete and utter mess.

“Need—just,” Words failing him, his fingers gripped at your hips, pushing you down on him even harder with each grind. It hit you right where you needed him, and a filfthy sound fell from his lips, the combination making you wonder how longer you’d last. 

“Shit, baby,” You breathed, your fingers coming up to card through his hair. “Need it harder, yeah?” Steve nodded furiously, nosing against your cheek. There was no way you could deny him this way, pupils blown, jaw slack.

Your fingers wrapped themselves in his locks, like an anchor, before picking up the pace with your hips. He cried out immediately, pressing himself even deeper in you, making that familiar warm feeling spread through your abdomen. “Sh-shit, fuck, thank you, thankyouthankyou,” He babbled, fingertips certainly leaving bruises on your hips, and you relished in the feeling, your mind an endless stream of Steve Steve Steve.

“M’gonna, fuck,” He sounded almost pitiful, and it made staving off your release difficult.

“Let go, Stevie, c’mon,” You coaxed, giving his hair another tug, and that was all he needed to turn white-hot.

The noise he made was obscene, hips stuttering up into you, face pressed to your chest. It sent you straight over the edge with him, your walls squeezing him desperately, amplifying the near-pornographic sounds between the two of you. You clung to each other through it, coming down slowly, entirely blissed out. Your grip on each other subsided, but you stayed where you were, chests heaving, tangled together sweatily.

“Thank you.” Steve kissed your collarbone, coming to rest his forehead against your own. He was smiling sweetly, eyes hooded from drunkenness and exhaustion. 

“Thank you.” You emphasized, probably looking much the same. “You’re… God, you’re something else.”

He chuckled at that, and you slowly rose from his lap, careful not to overstimulate either of you. You grabbed one of his t-shirts from the dresser, sliding it on, and padded your way to the bathroom for your responsible, post-sex pee. Once you’d returned, Steve was tucked beneath the comforter, already asleep.

You took a moment to admire him from the doorway, shaking your head softly, before climbing in beside him, drifting off just as fast. 

“Last night was amazing.” You smirked, seated at Steve’s kitchen table the next morning, tucking into some breakfast. “Love it when you get like that.”

“Like what?” He asked from the kitchen, feigning innocence. He rounded the corner, holding his own plate, and took a seat next to you. You gave him a look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The smug look in his eyes said he definitely did know what you were talking about, and he had enjoyed every second. You decided two could play at this game.

You shrugged, taking another bite. “Maybe you should ask Eddie, Robin and Nance.” He choked a little on his food, making you grin. “You started pretty early.”

He groaned, bringing his hands to his face. “No I did not.”

“Oh yes,” You stifled laughter, “But, it’s alright, I’m sure they’ll have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His fingers parted over his face, one eye peeking through. Your smile was enough to break him, both of you dissolving into a fit of giggles, his face slightly redder than it was before.