#fic: I tried to go on like I never knew you

[giannaln4]

For you? Anything.

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Even during the worst week of you life, and no matter how tired he is, Lando would do anything to make you feel better.  (2.6k words)

warnings: fluff, established relationship, language.

a/n: And we are back to our regular schedule! Kinktober is officially over (kinda, more context here) so it's time to post regular fics. So, I wrote this sometime last week before the shit show of yesterday's race so that's why there are no mentions of it, but I do have some planned about that so we'll see when I can work on them. Anyway, this is for me and all the girlies who have been feeling stressed about work, let me know what you think!

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What a week it has been for you. You had done nothing but work on a stupid project your boss put you in charge of. It was very short notice, and the due date was creeping up on you faster than you would’ve liked. 

The good thing is Lando had been away for weeks due to his job; not that you didn’t want to see him or that he was a distraction, nothing like that, but you always preferred to be with him instead of working, which isn’t something you would be able to do this time due to the amount of things you had to go over, but with the house all to yourself, you had the chance to get tons of work done.

It was finally the day of the presentation; you were supposed to pitch the finished project to management and honestly, you weren’t 100% confident in the job you had done. Usually, you were never too harsh on yourself, but with so little time to work on it, you knew there were some parts here and there that could’ve used a little more of your attention, but it was either use what you already have or show up with an unfinished project, so that would have to do. It wasn’t terrible; you were sure of that, but these people always found something to complain about.

You were there for only a few minutes before you were dismissed. What a fucking joke, you thought.

You didn’t even get half the presentation done, and the old dudes sitting across from you were already attacking you with questions, questions that didn’t even make sense or barely fit the theme of what you were trying to talk about. 

Your boss was the one to send you out, saying something like “You have another week; we hope you’ll be more prepared next time,” before standing up and leaving the cold conference room, followed by the rest of the men that were surrounding him.

Only minutes after going back to your office you saw him come in, giving you notes on the things he thought you should work on. As the polite girl that you are, you just nodded and wrote down whatever he was saying, apologising for not turning it up on time, but as soon as he left, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your face, ruining your make-up in the process. You still had half of your day ahead of you, so you calmed down, washed your face, and went back to work like nothing happened.

At the end of the day, however, that’s a different story. You went back home completely devastated. All those sleepless nights you spent with your nose buried in your laptop felt like a total waste. 

As you drove back home, you tried your best to hold the tears, but it was getting harder by the second, especially with each step you took down the hall that led to the door of your apartment, and when you made it there, you started crying as soon as you closed the door behind you.

You instantly got rid of your uncomfortable clothes and got into one of Lando’s shirts, curling up in your bed and letting all that consuming and irrational feeling of failure sink in. You knew you weren’t a failure; you were well aware of your worth, but you couldn’t help but feel like that after miserably failing the presentation you worked so hard on.

Suddenly, the front door opening pulled you out of your thoughts. You let out a loud sigh as you left the bed. You knew it was Lando coming back from his last race, and any other day you would’ve been happy to see him, running to the door to greet him with a hug like he deserved, but right now, you didn't want him to have to see you in that pathetic state.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment, sighing again when you realised how obvious it was that you had been crying, so you’d just have to avoid eye contact.

“Hi baby,” Lando greeted you with his usual pretty smile as he entered your room.

"Hey,” you replied, immediately turning around and walking towards your desk, sitting facing away from Lando as you opened your laptop.

“Did you sleep okay last night? How did your presentation go?” He walked closer to you and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, kissing your temple.

“It was okay.” He stopped when he noticed your heavy mood. 

"You alright, love? You seem down." His brows were slightly furrowed as he tried to make eye contact.

​​"Yeah, fine. I think I’m just gonna work on it a little more; there were some things missing that I need to include," you replied, clearly lacking energy.

“Hey now, let’s not do that." Lando turned the chair over to make you face him. He looked down and noticed your glossy eyes, a worried feeling growing inside him. “Talk to me, please. What’s wrong?”

You just shook her head briefly, a lip-tight smile covering your face. “Everything’s fine.”

“Y/N…” The slip of your name past his lips made you want to cry again. Of course you wanted to be comforted by your boyfriend, but you didn’t like the thought of him having to pick up the pieces anytime you messed up. As a tear rolled down your face, you realised that you didn't have the energy or even the desire to push him away “Oh baby, come here.”

Lando took your hand as he sat on the floor next to you, pulling you onto his lap. Your face was now buried in his black hoodie, the tears wetting it instantly as he brushed a hand softly up and down your back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you." He would understand if you didn’t want to talk about it but would still like to know what was happening. If there was anything he could do to help, he would gladly do it. “Do you wanna talk?”

“I just-” A sob cut you off, “I- I couldn’t do it, even after everything I did, it wasn’t enough.”

“Is this about your presentation?” He asked, his voice softer than ever, and you simply nodded. “It’s alright-”

“No, Lando, it’s not alright. I worked hard to get it together, to get it ready for days and nights and I still failed, I’m so stupid-”

“Hey, baby, look at me," he interrupted you, pulling back a bit and gently lifting your chin to look into your eyes. “You know that’s not true; you’re so smart, and I've always admired your beautiful mind. You gave it your best, like you said, you worked really hard, and even if you didn’t get the reaction you deserved, you know I’m right here.” You simply nodded at his words as the back of your hand wiped some of the tears. “Why didn’t you wanna tell me?”

"Because I don't want you to be disappointed in me like I am right now." You looked down to your lap as more tears fell from your tired eyes.

“You should know that I could never be disappointed in you, Y/N. You are so intelligent and kind; I’ve never met anyone with such a beautiful soul, so I don't ever want you to feel down about yourself because you are perfect." You felt both of Lando’s large hands caress either side of your face, bringing it up so he could look into your eyes again as he swiped at the tears that had managed to escape from your eyes.

The slight smile that had formed on your tear-stained face told Lando that his words meant something to you, and they did. “You’re only saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”

“No, I’m your boyfriend for all those reasons." You giggled slightly. “And I’m sure that no one would disagree with me.”

“My boss would.”

“What does he know?” That made you laugh again, making Lando smile, a smile so sincere that told you he believed everything he just said.

"Thank you, baby, even though you’re being a little biased." You sniffled as you gently stroked the hand that was still on your cheek, keeping your eyes locked with his “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he smiled, pressing his lips to your forehead. You took a deep breath, feeling a lot calmer than you did five minutes ago as you looked at your laptop briefly. 

“I should probably get back to work, though; I have to basically remake the whole thing and meet with them again next week.”

“What? Right now?”

“Yes, right now. I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go to bed? You look pretty tired. We can cuddle, I know we both need it.”

“I would love to,” your gaze fell on your bed momentarily; it looked so comfortable, and it was literally calling your name, “but I really need to get this done, and I have to do it right this time. I don’t wanna be embarrassed again in front of a bunch of old dudes.”

You stood up from his lap and sat back on your desk, focusing on the screen in front of you as you began to analyse what you should take out and what you needed to add. 

Lando just sighed. He knew there was no way he would get you to stop working if you already set your mind to it, but honestly, he thought he would get to spend every second with you once he got back home, so needless to say, he was a little disappointed that wasn’t the case.

He got it though; your job was important for you, and you would never settle for anything unless it was perfect. What made his blood boil was the fact that your boss had the nerve to make you feel like you weren't worth it. 

“Did you eat something already?” He asked you, getting up from the floor and wrapping his arms around you once again.

“Uh- I’m not really hungry.”

“Why don’t I cook something for us? What do you say?”

“It’s okay, baby, you should go to bed.” You tilted your head to look at him and give him a quick kiss. “I know you are tired, the triple header couldn’t have been easy.”

You started collecting your things so you could take over a different part of the apartment. He had been travelling for weeks; it wouldn’t be fair to keep him up just because you needed to get work done.

“Where are you going?”

“To your office, if that’s okay. I really don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not-”

“Lan, I’ll be okay, I promise. Just go to bed, don’t worry about me.” Taking a few steps closer to him, you gave him a loving hug, “I love you.”

You left the room, holding everything in your hands as Lando just stood in the same spot. There was no way he would go to bed without you, not when you were feeling so down and it was clear you just needed to take a break.

Taking a deep breath, he started to make a plan in his head. He took the quickest shower of his life and got into something comfy, praying there was food, or more specifically, ingredients to cook you something that he wouldn’t mess up and that you would enjoy.

Everything seemed to be on his side when he found everything he needed to make some Alfredo. Everything was pretty much premade, so he knew he wouldn’t ruin it. He happily got to work, setting up a nice dinner as he hummed one of the songs that had been stuck in his head for who knows how long. 

In the office, you were nearly breaking your head as you read the information you had over and over again. You kind of knew what it needed to be since your boss gave you a few specific notes, but then again, you weren’t feeling completely confident in your own ideas. 

You didn’t realise you had been locked away for over an hour, your eyes getting insanely tired as you typed away. A break was needed and well deserved, and you were aware of this, but somehow it didn’t feel like you were making any progress, even though you had been working non-stop and you had already readjusted about half of the project.

A loud sigh escaped your lips as you abruptly closed your laptop, your face falling to your hands as your eyes felt wet yet again. That was it; there was no way you could keep going. You needed to grab a quick snack and head straight to bed. You did have an early morning the next day after all. 

Just as you were gathering all your strength to get up, you heard the door open, making you jump a bit.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” You laughed as your hand fell on your heart.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he giggled, walking towards you.

“What are you doing still awake? I thought you went to bed.” 

“I couldn’t sleep without you. Are you almost done here?” He looked at your closed laptop, celebrating internally as he assumed you were done working for the night. 

“Yeah, I guess. My brain stopped working, so I thought my future self can worry about the rest tomorrow.”

“Good. Come here.” He extended his hand out to you, which you happily took. “Please stop overworking yourself, you know this isn’t healthy.”

“I know,” you let out a sigh as you accepted his embrace. “I’m seriously thinking about quitting. Who knows, maybe I’ll find something that doesn’t make me feel this stressed all the time.”

His hand was caressing your back softly as he pulled away to look down at you. “You know you can, right? And I really think you should. I make enough to support the both of us and even a family in the future... Baby, you don’t have to keep working there if you don’t want to.”

His words made a smile appear on your face. Not because he was offering to basically support you for the rest of your life, but because he brought having a family with you. “You know I’d never let you do that-”

“But if you do want to quit and just take a break, you can do that too,” he interrupted you. You nodded, seriously considering it, but that was something you would have to think about and have a serious conversation in the future if you ever did decide to do it.

“We’ll see. Right now, I just need something to eat and some sleep. I have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Speaking about dinner, I made something for you.”

He took your hand and guided you to the dining room, a big smile on his face as he proudly showed off the beautiful set-up and the (hopefully) delicious dinner he managed to cook. He looked back at you expectantly, but his happiness quickly turned into a worried look when he noticed tears falling from your eyes again. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, a hand softly falling on your cheek as he leaned down. 

You were out of words; you truly didn’t know what to say. This is just what you needed, and the fact that he went out of his way to do it for you meant a lot more than he could ever imagine.

“I- Lando, this is-” you cut yourself off when you couldn’t find the right thing to say, so you just jumped in his arms and gave him the tightest hug ever. “Thank you for everything. And I mean everything.”

He let out a sigh of relief, hugging you back as he buried his head on the crook of your neck. “For you, my love, I’d do anything.”

[kerokeeces]

ENHYPEN SFW hyung line fanfic recs!

who am I? im just silent reader who enjoys fics and want to help others find some of my favorites! srry im hee + hoon biased so most are about them

short fic - 1-5k words long fic - 5k+

HYUNG LINE

the look of love by @won4kiss - (how they look at you when they’re blinded by their love) - short fic

low power mode by @sungbeams - (when you get overwhelmed while you're out together) - text msgs

just a bet by @all4yoi - (after a few months of dating, you find out you were just a bet.) - short fic

HEESEUNG

sing me a song by @senascoop - (when you can't fall asleep and heeseung tries to help by singing you a song) - short fic

race to your heart by @coqhee - (lee heeseung who's always been a pro at racing takes on a change of pacing ; racing for your heart.) - long fic

uh oh im falling in love by @won4kiss - (you and heeseung have been rivals for as long as you could remember, constantly competing for the top spot in school—basically everything. living next door to each other only added to the fire, the tension between you, especially when heeseung’s cocky aura never seems to waver. but one single encounter shifts the entire dynamic, leading to confusing emotions arising, jealousy, and new surprising revelations. what happens when rivalry starts to feel like it’s growing into something more?) long fic

a stoner's guide to starbucks by @jayflrt - (in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.) - smau series

she knows her sour patch kids by @allforhee - (living under the protective eyes of your older brother, park sunghoon, he thinks he knows you the best. but litte does he know that heeseung knows you love your sour patch kids more than you love his usual swedish fish.) - short fic

win one win me by @jaylver - (who knew being angry and impulsive can get the captain of the hockey team to notice you? cussing them out when they were losing wasn't the best idea, but it definitely made lee heeseung's head turn, leading to him making a deal with you to win a game in order to get your number. but that wasn't enough for him, he was determined to make you his.) - long fic

from screens to scenes by @enreveriee - (you decide to give online dating a shot but have never met your boyfriend in person, nor do you even know what he looks like. when your friends pressure you into finally asking him out for a real-life date, things take a surprising turn. what you expected to be a simple meetup becomes an adventure filled with unexpected twists.) - long fic

taste of life by @mygnolia - (heeseung is invisible to everyone, robbed of recognition as people pass through and never acknowledge him. to live as a shadow who observes is hard—heeseung sinks into corners and simply wishes for a chance to be a part of something. but when you finally come to the biggest halloween party of the year and see him, he can’t help but be attached.) - short fic

bring the heat by @kairoot - (y/n has always disliked heeseung, the arrogant rising star of the racing scene. she especially dislikes him when he beats her brother in the city’s street racing round and takes it upon herself to do a rematch and race him. but when she gets herself stuck in a predicament, her enemy is the only one who can save her. maybe there’s more to heeseung than just his big ego.) - short fic

bjoux by @okikeu - (The fashion industry is difficult, so when the CEO of Korea's finest, luxury fashion brand, Le Désir, loses the most important ambassador of her career, her life is pretty much over. That is, until she finds a face that makes her previous fumble look like a simple marketing scheme.) - smau series

cliches are okay by @chogiwow - short fic

JAY

how you get the girl by @jaylver - (Beach parties are supposedly fun and exciting, aren’t they? Wrong. Experiencing college parties is rare for you, but you decided to give this one a go after your best friend’s constant pleas. Things were alright until everything turned sour when trouble found you and eventually you were roped into a fight alongside the campus’ famous hockey playboy. As if that wasn’t enough, the devil himself conjured up an idea that you found yourself being entangled in. It was all fun and games up until confusion arose, feelings being confessed and played, in the end, Jay had to learn how to get the girl, his girl.) - long fic

white corvette and lipstick by @okwonyo - (waiting for the cab with your boyfriend in the night.) - short fic

pictures enhypen send you of bf!jay by @ddksoo - fake texts

fast forward by @asahicore - (After yet another romantic disappointment in the form of one Jake Sim, you go to the well you’ve always believed to grant wishes and ask for your one and true love to appear. That night, you go to sleep in your bed but wake up in a strange house. When you head downstairs, you find a man washing the dishes and telling you your favorite meal is waiting on the table for you. You’ve spent hours glaring at the back of that head, you could recognize it anywhere—it belongs to none other than Park Jongseong, your high school sworn enemy… and future husband, or so it seems.) - long fic

JAKE

bed chem by @cupidhoons - (your friend sets you up with a cute aussie boy at her party) - short fic

texts with bestfriend!jake by @silquids - text msgs

found you by @whjluv - (jake is very well known and loved by everybody on campus. equally popular was his relationship with the captain of the volleyball team, haneul. even more popular, sadly, is his breakup after more than a year. the months following the event take a significant toll on jake, who becomes unrecognizable. his once sweet, friendly and pure nature is replaced by a constant gloomy and somber aura. what happens when this new version of jake sim unexpectedly clashes with a very straightforward and quite intimidating member of the school’s podcast?) - long fic

SUNGHOON

deep honey by @paarksunghoon - (the last thing you want to do is interrupt sunghoon’s time with his friends, but your doting boyfriend has always said he’ll be there whenever you need him. when a shift at work leaves you hanging by a thread, he and his friends are there to patch your soul back up.) - short fic

cafeteria confessions by @reinahwanggg - (everyone thinks you're dating your childhood best friend sunghoon. well, everyone including sunghoon because he confessed to you almost a year ago and you didn't exactly know it was a confession because of how casually he said it.) - short fic

sunghoon with a crush on you by @woniecore - smau

get well soon by @senascoop - (You’ve always considered yourself a good person—kind, forgiving, and patient. But Sunghoon tested every bit of that. One reckless, drunken drive was all it took for him to flip your life upside down, leaving you temporarily confined to a wheelchair. The inconvenience was more than just physical; it was a wound to your pride and independence. Sunghoon, however, refused to walk away from his mistake. Guilt-ridden and determined to make amends, he became a constant presence in your life—covering your medical bills, offering you emotional support, and sticking around even when you wished he wouldn’t.) - long fic

love on air by @pshbites - (two podcast groups, both equally popular on the internet, start interacting with one another. however it isnt how fans want it to be.. OR yn sees sunghoon hating on lauryn hill and accidentally starts an entire fanwar with him.) - smau series

the 24-hour dating challenge by @jaeyunverse - (being a famous youtuber isn’t easy, especially when you have to constantly come up with new ideas to keep your audience entertained. and this time, your viewers want you to date park sunghoon, your best friend of nearly a decade, for the entirety of 24 hours.) - long fic

[cuntdevil]

★ PRETTY BROWN EYES !

he hoped to swoon you with his gorgeous brown eyes and bright personality ─── never mind the fact that he has a girlfriend.

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, takuma ino, sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 5,017 words !

╰┈➤ takuma ino & shy student!reader, college!au, infidelity, virgin!reader, yapper!takuma ino, corruption kink, slight public groping, car sex, fingering, unprotected sex, pussyjob, creampie, momentary cockwarming, etc.

( anonymous said . . . ) okay, so i was wondering if you could write for takuma ino. the idea was that reader was a shy new student and he immediately becomes obsessed and wants to be with her, but he's currently in a relationship . . . smut with corruption, loss of virginity trope, and some angst . . .

╰┈➤ author's response: i've never written for takuma before so please don't shoot me if you don't feel like the characterization is correct. i was trying to go with possessive while trying to feign like he was a good guy. hopefully you like it because it was a lot of fun writing this fic!

Men are such easy creatures that it’s no wonder that they’re closely compared to animals when it comes to their instincts. A woman can be nice to them once and they’ll take it as a sign that they’re flirting when it can be the very opposite. Takuma always thought of himself as a better man, but he’s proven wrong when you call for attention. Your shadow shields him from the bright lights within the large room, where you didn’t say much to him at all. In a soft voice that barely raised above a whisper, you simply asked, “Is anyone sitting here?” 

He could tell that you were a timid thing, just by the way you instinctively crossed your arms, waiting for him to answer. He thought he was a better man for always being respectful, abiding by people’s boundaries and giving women their space. He was a sweet thing and according to his girlfriend, he could make any girl swoon with his pretty brown eyes. Boyish features that are so adorably hot that he could bag any woman he wanted— according to his girlfriend. And he never took her seriously, fanning off her words, but here he is right now, wondering if he could potentially “bag” you. And he should feel guilty, he really should, but he wants to take it as a conquest now. His curiosity gets the best of him as he asks himself, could he? 

He doesn’t realize he’s staring at you until you feel a sense of discomfort, squirming at his wandering eyes. “I’ll just— I’ll just go find another seat…”

“Wait! My seat’s—” he blurts in an effort to call out for you, but you ignore him and try to find the next open seat with someone else. He curses under his breath, the professor walking through the door and asking everyone to get in their seats. Takuma slouches as he frowns, his bottom lip jutting out as he spins back in the swivel chair as he opens up his iPad. He knew what his girlfriend said was too bullshit to be true. 

The next time Takuma sees you is at the courtyard. He was supposed to be meeting up with his girlfriend for a study session as they share a few classes together under the same major, but you had completely shifted his train of thought that he made a bee line straight towards you instead. Sliding into the vacant seat across from you, he drags your attention away from your laptop and the tupperware of sushi sitting next to it. Your curious eyes quickly turn to a grimace that you best tried to hide when you saw that it was Takuma. “...Hi?”

“Hi,” he responds back in a more chipper tone, though his insides said the very opposite as his heart panged against his chest. “I wanted to apologize about what happened the last time. I was being a creep.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t expected that, the apology catching you off guard that you didn’t know what to say, but when do you ever? He stared at you with those brown eyes. He was cute, you can’t help but admit, but there’s still something unsettling about him. You’re not quite sure if that’s your anxiety talking or just how he shamelessly sat across you, startling your peace. He had good intentions, though, so you tried your best to not put too much thought into it. At the fact that he has yet to leave, you expect that he’s waiting for your forgiveness. “It’s okay.”

However, to your dismay, he’s getting himself comfortable at your self-acclaimed table for the time being, loosening one of the straps over his shoulder as he slings his backpack onto his lap and unzipping it. He asked no questions on your preference, just making himself comfortable as he pulled out his laptop and set it open on the table. His eyes glancing over at you periodically. “Hey, what’s your major? I don’t really recognize you… but then, this is a large campus, so maybe we’re just running into each other this year.”

Should I answer him? The question rang inside your head over and over, a heavy rise in your chest coming to stand as you felt at a loss of breath. He was only trying to be nice, you figured. And it didn’t hurt to be nice back, your inner monologue reminding you. “I’m a… transfer student.”

His eyes brightened at that, eyebrows rising at the newfound information. “A transfer student, oh really?”

He went on like that for the next hour until you saw a figure coming in your direction. A girl with shoulder-length hair that shimmered from a black to a blue. Piercing brown eyes that seemed deadlier than Medusa the moment they landed on her boyfriend before her eyes found yours. They shone of unfamiliarity before they sparked to anger, her perfectly threaded eyebrows knitted together before stomping towards the both of you. “Ino, what are you doing here?”

Face contorting into confusion, Takuma turns around in his seat. Having forgotten all about his girlfriend, he nearly jumps out of his seat at the sight of her. His first instinct is to reach for the phone, the quick glance leading him to curse. “Fuck. Kazua, I’m so sorry… I—”

“Don’t worry about it.” In a flash, the young man— Kazua— brushes her boyfriend off. “We’ll talk about it later.”

You could’ve sworn you heard her say, I probably wouldn’t have gotten a thing done with you there anyway. She shoots you a nasty glare as she storms away, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Takuma doesn’t hesitate to run after her, but his footsteps stagger as he takes a second to look back at you. His movement stops, where his feet shuffle and he’s unsure what to do. It takes him a moment to muster out a “sorry!” before rushing after the angered girl to explain his side of the story. Which turned out useless as Kazua had given Ino the silent treatment— this time, he’s not sure how long for.

Takuma realizes that he really doesn’t have much charm to him in ways that other men have. He learns this through every interaction that he has with you in comparison to every other guy that’s come to approach you. From what he sees, they’re flirting with you — your eyes would light up and you would smile politely as they slid in the seat next to you. They’d spark up a bit of conversation and actually get more than an ounce of words out of you. Every time he approaches you, there’s a grimace in your eyes. Or, maybe it’s all in his head. 

He never notices how you’ve come to make space for him when he approaches. Simply sliding in the seat across from you and talking your ear off. He doesn’t pay attention when you’re starting to pay a bit more attention, your hums of ‘mhm’ are soft, but still a tell-tale sign that you have been listening— that you are listening. And if he had been truly paying attention, he’d notice the small twinkle in your eyes whenever he’s near and the way your lips curve upwards when he says something interesting or humorous. He’s so caught up in his nerves that he’s blinded by anxiety.

It catches him off guard when he finds you perched at the far corner of the bar, barely noticeable if he hadn’t known you. A bar well-frequented by students of the university, Takuma liked to come here particularly after his Friday classes in the evenings to blow off a little steam. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, it was as if you had miraculously appeared there the moment his vision cleared. It was a perplexing sight because he’d never take you for someone to go to bars. However, there you sit, dressed in a spaghetti-strapped top and a denim skirt that falls a few inches below your ass. 

There’s a shred of confidence that rises within Takuma then as he walks up to you. And he falls into routine, grabbing the vacant stool right next to you. The legs scrape the ground and make you jump in fright. Turning your head, your glare quickly turns into a gaze of familiarity, smiling when you see Takuma. “Oh, hi!”

This time he doesn’t miss the sparkle in your gaze. Have you always been looking at him that way? 

Truthfully, while this had been a Friday night where he’d have come to the bar, he had another reason to be here. His girlfriend had finally messaged him, wanting to speak about things from their short break. And usually, when this arose, he wouldn’t hesitate to meet her here, but now that he was, he didn’t feel any hope in their relationship anymore. His phone buzzed in his back pocket, but he ignored its small tickle as he was completely transfixed on you. “I didn’t peg you as someone who goes to bars.”

“I’m not,” you admit. “But I needed to get out of my dorm room… and my roommate was having some guy over.”

Takuma laughs. “The roommate kicking you out sounds more like what happened.”

You nudge him, despite the bemusement in your eyes. From finding him to be a small nuisance to accepting and genuinely enjoying his presence, you’re grateful that Takuma had shown up tonight. You had felt so out of place and your drink tasted horrible. However, you didn’t want to ask for another and waste it. It wasn’t your first time at a bar, but your first time at one alone. While you were one who enjoyed solitude, the bar wasn’t one of those places where you typically sought it. You felt stupid for coming here. Now, Takuma washed away all of those nerves.

Time washed away to something nonexistent. Takuma had ordered you something that tasted sweeter, better than your other drink. He spoke up for you when you were afraid to do it for yourself, and as the night had gotten later, he had grown more handsy with you. A subtle shift in him that you left unquestioned when you felt his hand touch your thigh, him scooting a tad bit closer to you, his legs unparting yours. He continued talking to you, eyes never deterring away from yours and you couldn’t help yourself from the captivation they held. 

Was this what they called liquid courage? You asked yourself. You hadn’t had much of either drinks, an unfamiliarity swirling inside of you as you weren’t aware whether the attraction you felt towards him was genuine or what you’ve had to drink. These emotions had been sweltering inside of you for a while, but what makes now so different? Why does this patter in your heartbeat feel more distinct than the rest?

Is it the hand that continues to be so daring as he leans closer to you, invading your personal space? How he remains so nonchalant, continuously sporting that boyish charm he possesses while he talks to you. Your skirt’s risen up significantly from its original length, and the lights have dimmed to the point where no one can really detect his movement. They can’t really see how he’s gotten his hand slotted against your inner thigh, creeping closer to what he so desires right now. 

He’s stopped talking at some point, but you can’t tell when. Fingers prodding at your clothed pussy, running smooth and tandem circles right against your clit as he watches you try to keep your composure. Your posture’s become slumped, breath becoming more jagged when he applies more pressure. He has to hop down from the stool to pull yours closer, making the wood touch each other as he’s given you no time to react. Your heart simply races as you come to gasp. He tastes sweet, but you’re even sweeter. Sweeter than he’s imagined. 

Nights where he’s spent thinking about you instead of Kazua, concealing his moans and breathy grunts as his fist is wrapped around himself. Oh, how his cock leaked deplorably to the thought of you underneath him. How he’d love to be sheathed inside of your pussy for hours on end, rutting inside of you until your sweet cunt ached and only begged for him. The smell of him was so pungent that the next day, his roommate didn’t need to hear him to know what transpired during his slumber. 

You were such a cute and quiet little thing that managed to get him so worked up, that he wanted to do the same for you. He should’ve felt ashamed the moment the bartender had interrupted, asking the both of them to leave, the moment things became too obvious. His cheeks should’ve reddened like how grew flustered and didn’t want to look anyone in the face on your way out, but he felt so accomplished within himself that he couldn’t. 

You let him lead you to his car, the small silver automobile that was parked not too far from the entrance. His mind led him to contemplate, to wonder what he should do to you, where exactly should he bring you to, but the moment he heard the click of his doors open, he grabbed your hand and let his cock do the thinking for him. You landed on the leather seats with a thud and a yelp falling from your lips, Takuma hoisting you further inside by the hips as he didn’t hesitate to reattach his lips against you. 

Your skirt no longer covered your ass, hiked up so high that it was around your waist now, your bare legs ready for the taking. The heat of his hands travel up and down your thighs, your moans sounding in the car. The moment you feel his erection ground against your core does this all feel too real. Your breath quickens, but not in its haughty need but with anxiousness as a lump starts to form. Suddenly, you’re not kissing him anymore, finding the strength within you to push him off. It has him taken aback, pulling away in concern. That hunger slowly dissipates as he searches for the problem. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I—” You diverted eye contact, finding entertainment in the back of the front seats instead as you struggled to let your confession out. When you do, it’s below a whisper, hard for Takuma to hear with the sounds of the bustling night, but he catches it— “I’m a virgin.”

It should be shameful for the way he felt jovial at the confession. Something that felt so embarrassing for you to admit was something that ignited something deep inside of him. It made him realize that he truly was no better than any other man with the way his cock stirred and how suffocating the air felt even more for you. Those beautiful brown hues within his pupils pool with a darkness that’s so carnal that it has you shrinking within his hold. “Ta—Takuma?”

He snaps out of it, leaving that headspace and returning back to normal. He gets it now — why guys find it so hot to be with a virgin. That feeling of superiority and power over someone so innocent. Gosh, he should’ve expected it. Everything about you screams the word itself. He brings himself to smile, his pearly whites seeming to dazzle in the dim lights of the street lamps shining inside the vehicle windows. Your eyes— those pretty pretty eyes look up at him with concern, but his smile makes it all go away as he utters out, “That’s fine. I’ll take good care of you.”

His fingers are back to prodding at your panties, pretty pink cotton with a wet patch right at the center. He can feel your arousal bubble at every press of his thumb against your clit, rubbing circles and the infinity symbol into you. You’ve a God-given gift bestowed to him. A blessing you truly are to be splayed underneath for the taking. You moan, every action causing a reaction as you buck your hips, begging for more. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt and to his skin, tugging him closer to you. You can’t think straight. There’s an ache in your back, pressed deep against the leather of the seats and the tight space is all too much. 

When you imagined this moment, you never imagined it in the back seat of a car, but you want this. You’ve convinced yourself of this and so have those eyes of his. You feel no shame anymore when he parts your panties to the side, the pad of his thumb pushing deep against you. Your juices seep from you, coating his digit in your delicacy as he goes up and down, up and down, up and down. Your inner thighs quiver, the feeling of someone’s touch much better than your own. 

He’s gentle— for the most part. He’d nip at your pump bottom lips, making them swell when he sucks at it. He marks up your skin, creating deep and dark blotches on your flesh that are too high up to be hidden with a shirt. And now that his index and middle finger have entered the mix, teasing the entrance of your sweet cunt, he’s ready to bully your insides with them in his greedy attempts to take care of you. 

He tells you, “gotta stretch you out,” when you whine. When in truth, he’s gluttonous for the sounds that you make. How, your voice gets all high-pitched and your nails dig past the fabric and more into his skin that it’s enough to bruise. However, he’ll be bashful to wake up to them. 

“Ah, Takuma!” you cry out, back arching against the seats as your chest presses into his. Bottom lip still caged by him, he bites down harshly against them and causes you to mewl out in pain. Slowly do those moans become whimpers as he batters your poor pussy with his fingers and the gnawing of his teeth against your supple flesh. It feels like a mockery when he sees you crying, cooing at you ever-so-gently as he asks, “Aww, why are you crying? I’m giving you what your pussy needs.” 

He comes to kiss them away, detaching himself from your lips to taste the salt of your tears and further soothing you with gentle kisses that contrast the drilling of his fingers. He fucks you with those two simple digits, ignoring the way your legs would flex and contract, squirming against his hold. The discomfort of the car soon went on ignored from the immense amount of pleasure, your slick drooling down his fingers as they twisted and twirled inside of you. 

A euphoric dance the two of you partnered in. It never slows down until that knot inside your stomach starts to form, a twinkle of light sparking deep inside of you as your walls pulsate around Takuma and you’re stammering out on your words. “Ino, it feels s–so good… Please, I think ‘m about’ta—”

“Yeah, yeah…” he chuckles. “I know.”

You cream all over his fingers, your body instinctively rolling your hips in efforts to feel the way you do now. He finds you beautiful like this, face contorted in immense pleasure as you gasp out an ‘Oh.’ And fuck, it’s so hot how you paint his digits in a white, that he ruts against the car seat, bashfully tasting your release. His pupils dilate, humming in delight as he presses himself down further into the seats. You’re forced to watch in awe, not that you’re complaining, bucking your hips upward in a silent plea for more of Takuma.

“God, you’re just perfect, aren’t you?” he breathes, not wasting another second with his cock concealed in his jeans. Within the tight confines of the car, Takuma shimmies out of his pants, pulling his underwear down along with it. You’ve maneuvered yourself to lean against the car door, your elbows helping you hold your weight up as you watch Takuma’s cock spring free from the tight fixtures of his pants. It’s pretty, just like him— sporting an average length and exceeding in girth. His uncut tip leaks of arousal, twitching in the stuffy car air as it wants nothing more but to feel your tight walls cage him inside. 

He bet it's nothing like his girlfriend’s. He already knows that you’re sweeter than his girlfriend’s. Your moans are even prettier and more sultry than hers. Because you have something against her, an innocence that still ties you down. And unlike his girlfriend, he’ll be the first to break it. Kazua was always straightforward, never wanting to engage in any foreplay. Never would sex last long with her, but with you? He can take his time.

Precum continues to leak from him, his mushroom head glistening in his arousal as he spreads it. So sensitive from its neglect, he hisses when he touches it. His fingers cold as he wraps his fist around it, giving it a few pumps before hovering more over you. It’s dark outside, minus the street lamps illuminating its light inside of the car. Fortunately, no one has come to see them inside. Takuma can see how your pussy still shines from your orgasm, your pussy lips parted with your creamy essence as you occasionally clench around nothing. 

His thumb has become familiar with you, pressing into your hole and eliciting a twitch from your body. He grabs your leg, a hearty grip on it as he drags you down without warning. You squeal, heart racing as your head hits the leather. Your eyes widen as both of his hands meet your hips to make the both of you further connect. He’s got your legs wrapped around him as he plays with your panties, pulling it back and letting it snap against your pussy. He watches how you flinch when it harshly makes contact with your clit, the slight jump making his cock do the same. 

With his length slotted in between your legs, he moves himself perfectly in between your folds. The pressure of his cock maneuvered in between them, alleviating an ache that was there but never to its fullest degree as you still anticipate for more. For that pop of your cherry. However, he teases you and ultimately himself. With the way he presses his tip right at your clit, letting them kiss whenever he glides upwards. 

“Please…Ino…” You beg, feeling ready for him, like you could take this big leap within your sexuality, you arch your back upwards and press it against him more. The fabric of your top and the friction of both of your chests against each other, tickling the dark nubs of your nipples and overstimulating you even further. You whine and whimper out in need, trying to pull him down and coax with the sensualness of your actions. But to no avail, he holds some restraint over himself. He wants to see how messy that pussy can get— just for him. 

Your slick drools and stains his seats, but he can’t be mad at you. How could he when he’s the cause of all of this? Outside the scene of a noisy Friday night, Takuma can hear how sloppy and loud your cunt is, how your juices sound from the motions of his cock pressed against you. The two of you is all that can be heard, yours and his wanton moans and the wet sound of your tantalizing cunt painting his cock in all that is you. It makes it all the sweeter when he finally prods at your entrance, the head of his cock barely stretching it out before you’re tensing up all nervously.

He tries his best to console you, tries telling you that you’re in the best of care, but who is he kidding when all he wants to do is ruin you. But, he still does, hushing out your nervous cries as you hold onto him so tightly. 

“Shhh…” he draws out. “You’re in good hands here—” Slowly, he enters you, careful enough not to scare you away, but still rough enough to where you’re shedding more tears than necessary. Yet, you convince yourself that it’s all part of the process, that truthfully, Takuma didn’t find pleasure in your pain. Part of it is true when the boy can’t make himself go any further the moment that he’s fully sheathed inside of you, waiting until he feels the hammer in your heart die down and until the grip on the back of his neck loosens and those pretty pretty eyes, all teary for him, finally blinks back open and a gentle nod gives him the okay he needs to keep going. 

It’s a pain that stings you at first, filled with nothing but discomfort the more he rocks his hips. But that same pain dissipates moments later, camouflaging itself with pleasure as your legs tense around him and captures him closer to you. When you cry his name, it’s no longer from the pain in your voice, but a plea for more, an approval to his ego that he’s been successful.

The rock of his car is finally the tell-tale sign that calls for people’s attention, the fog within the glass being evident to what’s happening inside. Some people hurry off in disgust, heading straight to their destination without looking back, others lingering as they find out a new kink about themselves, arousal pooling inside of their pants as well. Through all the commotion outside of the bar as people enter the establishment, whispering about it in disgust, it calls for Kazua’s attention as she’s grown mighty impatient about her boyfriend. He has never been late to the bar, but then again, he’s never been late to a study date. 

The past weeks he’s been occupied with that damn person that she never bothered learning the name of, simply looking at them and finding visceral disgust with them. It only made Kazua more upset at how Takuma wasn’t running to her anymore, pleading for forgiveness. No, he had found company in someone that wasn’t her. It made her furious. Furious enough to where she wanted to break up with him, but also not enough where she had the energy to. 

Standing from her seat around the bar, in the far corner where you previously were— with said boyfriend— Kazua calls it a night, pulling out her phone to text Takuma and tell him off and vent about how he’s such an asshole, but the whispers of some stranger before her called her attention before she clicked send. 

“They’re fucking disgusting,” a feminine voice scoffed in disgust. “Fucking like that in the parking lot— it’s not even empty!”

“Yeah, like, have some decorum and try to find somewhere more secluded at least,” their friend agrees, chiming in. “I don’t get people and their kinks these days. They’ve lost the art of shame.”

More and more people come in, speaking on the same subject, naming that the disgusting culprits aren’t too far from here. As a matter of fact, they’re a couple of steps away. In the pit of her stomach, Kazua has a feeling— a feeling that it could possibly be the man she’s been stood up by. However, she tries to convince herself that it was her nerves, her brain playing tricks on her. Nonetheless, she walks through the front door of the bar, eyes looking down both sides of the parking lot before she spots some passers-by, who just so happen to be pausing by a vehicle. They try to squint, peeping inside before they give up. 

Kazua squirms as she tries to decipher if she should seem like a perverted prick or if she should let ignorance, in fact, be a bliss. However, her feet move for her involuntarily as she clutches herself in the chill of the night. The streetlamps overhead illuminate, brightening itself on the all too familiar vehicle that belongs to her boyfriend— Takuma. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at this feeling of bliss, back no longer on the bottom of the seats as Takuma plunges within you with all of his strength. You’ve exceeded his expectations, proving better than his wet dreams about you as he fucks into your pussy in delight. His moans become louder than yours as he bashfully meets your pelvis with his. Your slick, copious amounts pour from out of you, dripping between the crevice of your ass. That familiar coil in your stomach returns once more, a reminder of what’s to come.

“Ino,” you cry, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Fuuuuckkk, I’m about’ta—”

He kisses you, swallowing your warning whole as well as your moans. He feels his cock twitch inside of you, his pace slowing when he pulls away. “Shit, me, too. Fuck, fuckin’ cum with me. Please.”

You nod, a high-pitched ‘mhm’ falling from you as your mouth goes dry. You clench around him, locking his cock to you as your pussy creates rings around the base of him. Simultaneously, you milk him dry, your pussy swallowing every bit of his release until it’s forced out and dripping down. The both of you pant from exhaustion, Takuma stilling his actions as he’s buried deep inside of you still. 

Those brown eyes of his. They look into yours with glee, the corners of the glistening as he smiles. One last chaste kiss he plants, gently gnawing down on your bottom lips as he’s about to fall against you. However, before he could do so, he heard heavy pounding against the glass. It calls for the both of you to sit up, desperately gasping for air as the two of you immediately suspect the police. However, the feminine voice that rings out in anger halts the male more than it does you. “Takuma!” Kazua yells from the outside, calling even more attention to the both of them now. “You better open up this door right now!”

( author's note. ) please let me know what you thought in the comments. i was a bit nervy writing this uwu.

[shslbunnylover]

Hi honey. How about a Wanda fic where R comes back after a long mission and since Wanda got so used to not having R around she's kinda ignoring her. Angst with a happy ending

★ ★ ★ Time Goes By ★ ★ ★

Character: Wanda Maximoff

Summary: When you finally return home after a month-long mission, you realize your girlfriend has started to get used to life without you

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of NSFW, some crying, mentions of abandonment and anxiety,

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay!! Thank you for the request <3

Word Count: 3.63k

Being an avenger wasn't easy, not in the least. There was the constant threat of death, the looming amounts of paparazzi just *begging* to get an interview with their favorite superhero, and your personal least favorite, being away from your loved ones.

You absolutely adored your girlfriend Wanda, a fellow avenger, and when you found out you wouldn't get to see her for at least a month, you were heartbroken to be ripped away from the woman you cherished dearly just in the name of protecting some city on a whole other continent.

Wanda was equally as heartbroken, but she understood, having been a part of the avengers longer than you meant she had plenty of experience when it came to long missions that meant staying in a whole new environment.

“I know baby, I know, but you'll be okay! I'll try and text you everyday to wish you goodnight, and I'll try and text you every morning to wake you up,” She promised you, holding you in her arms.

“I know- But it's in Europe, it'll be a whole other timezone!” You cried.

“We'll make it work Dekta, we'll make it work,”

You were nothing short of a baby for the rest of the week before you left, never wanting to leave your loving girlfriend's side no matter what she did.

But the night before you left, you were held in her arms from the moment you and her got home from work, her manicured nails scratching at your scalp as the two of you watched your favorite sitcom together.

You knew she liked to hold you tightly while watching your favorite sitcoms due to her trauma, as if she was afraid to let you go in fear of that horrid day happening again.

She held you tightly because she knew that's the way her parents died, cuddled up on the couch. She wasn't losing another person in her life, and if another bomb hit your apartment, she wanted to die with you in her arms and her in yours.

She tried to get rid of the thoughts that made her behave this way for years, but subconsciously the redhead would forever cling to you when you watched these sitcoms, as it brought her comfort she wasn't even aware of receiving.

As Malcolm in the Middle played on the TV, you looked up at her, her green eyes sparkling as she watched the TV.

God she's beautiful.

“Wands…?” You murmured.

“Yes Dekta?” Wanda looked down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as her hands pulled you even closer to her.

“You're not gonna forget about me, right? When I come back everything will be back to normal?” You asked, a tear welling up in your eye at the mere thought of losing her because you were gone for too long.

Wanda grabbed the remote, pausing the TV before pulling you fully onto her lap, allowing for you to bury your head in the crook of your neck.

“Oh moya lyubov, I will never forget you,” Wanda frowned, kissing your lips softly as she looked at you, her eyes genuine as she pulled you out from her neck.

“I know, but I…” You trailed off, biting your lip as you shrugged.

“I know,” She nodded. “I won't forget you,”

You looked up at her with eyes that were glazed over with tears, and you attempted to hold them back, but a few finally escaped.

A shaky breath left your lips, and you wiped the droplets out from under your eyelids.

“You better not,” You mumbled.

Wanda looked at you, kissing your lips gently.

“I wouldn't even dream of it,”

You sniffled, holding onto Wanda for the rest of the night until you eventually fell asleep.

She carried you up to your shared bedroom after she had finished another two episodes of the sitcom, tucking you and herself under the covers of your bed.

“Wanda…” You slurred in your drowsy state. “I don't wanna go…”

Wanda sighed, her eyes falling to your sleeping form in sadness.

“I know moya lyubov, I know, I don't want you to leave either,” The redhead ran her fingers through your hair, twirling some of your locks around her pointer finger.

You didn't respond, falling back into your unconsciousness, leaving Wanda to hold you in her arms.

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” She murmured into your hair, shutting her eyes to join you in your sleep.

When she had awoken the next morning, she immediately noticed the lack of warmth in her arms.

She made her way to the kitchen, seeing the plate of pancakes you had made for her before your departure to your station in Europe.

The redheaded witch sat down at the table, quickly cutting up the pancakes so they didn't get cold.

The pancakes you made were delicious, and once she finished, she leaned back, grabbing a napkin to wipe her face.

She slid it across the bottom half of her face, pausing as she felt something a bit sticky being wiped across her cheek.

Her hands pulled the napkin back, and her eyes softened as she saw the clear shimmer of your lipgloss on the napkin.

She frowned, an exhale of something in between loneliness and sadness leaving her.

This was going to be a long month without you.

The days dragged on slower than either of you had wanted or even anticipated, your separation by the fault of physical distance causing you both to crave each other's voice and touch.

The mission itself wasn't much better either, you were mainly just put as a security guard at your post. You didn't even understand why you were here. You hadn't done anything that required any true effort like disabling any sort of terrorist from the gang you were sent out here to help catch.

‘God I can't wait to go home,’ You thought to yourself, leaning against the wall as you held the polaroid you always carried around with you in your hands.

The picture was one that you and Wanda had taken at some amusement park you had passed by on a walk and decided to try out, and on your way home after your time there you took a picture with your girlfriend on the machine provided.

She was kissing your cheek, and you were too busy laughing to notice that the picture had been taken, catching you two in your most genuine moment.

You smiled at the polaroid, putting it back in your wallet before tucking it in your bra so no one could take it without you knowing.

After the weeks of your mission had passed by, you woke up on the day you were to head to the airport with a smile on your face. After what had felt like ages without your loving girlfriend, you were ready to go home and see her more than anything.

You checked your phone, shrugging at the lack of any messages on your home screen. Wanda was 5 hours behind you back in New York, and you were used at this point to not being able to talk or call at all for days on end, but that's why you were so excited to go back home.

You loaded up your suitcases, fixing up the free hotel room provided for you in exchange for your service and work in the country.

Getting on the airplane, you sent a message to your girlfriend before turning your phone on airplane mode.

‘I’m heading home Wands, come and get me soon ❤️’

When Wanda saw that as she woke up, she smiled softly, excited to see her love for the first time in weeks.

She slowly pulled herself out of bed, sliding on a black blazer and khaki pants with a white button up shirt underneath.

She grabbed her keys, walking out of the apartment to her car.

You had landed about 30 minutes prior to Wanda getting out of bed and leaving to pick you up, but thanks to TSA regulations, you were delayed from walking to the pickup area of the airport for around another 45 minutes, giving the green-eyed woman plenty of time to arrive.

Once your luggage had been checked by the private agents assigned to avengers flying to their destination, who somehow looked more serious than the actual avengers themselves (Thanks Tony, you make the avengers look very professional), you finally walked to the front of the airport.

Your eyes scanned over the sea of people that were in the building, but they finally paused when they found the familiar sight of your girlfriend's fiery red hair.

“Wanda!” You beamed, almost running over to the older woman with your luggage in your hands.

When she heard your voice, Wanda turned in the direction she saw you coming in.

“Y/N!” She ran up and hugged you. “Oh moya lyubov, I'm so happy you got home safe!”

“I'm so happy to see you my dear,” You hugged her back tightly, your hands finding their way to her cheeks before you kissed her softly.

Wanda kissed you back, her eyes filling with tears.

“I'm so happy to see you too, any longer without you and I wouldn't have been able to handle it,” She separated her mouth from yours, darting her tongue over her lips as if attempting to savor the taste of you, as if she'd never taste you again.

The way she held you in her arms made you feel like you were on top of the world and nothing could go wrong.

But that would all change by morning.

When you woke up after a long night where Wanda couldn't keep her hands off of you and you couldn't keep yourself off of her, you noticed that there was no warmth on your back and around your waist.

“Wands…?” You slurred awake, sitting up and noticing that she had already woken up and gotten out of bed.

You checked the bed, assuming you must have slept in and Wanda had already given you her morning cuddles, but you saw that it was 7:30, the time her alarm usually went off.

Wanda would usually spend 10 minutes cuddling you and stroking your hair in the mornings, waking herself up and usually leaving you with a kiss on your cheek which would then wake you up.

You frowned, but attempted to shake the feeling of abandonment out of your head.

“Maybe she's making breakfast?” You asked yourself, standing up and throwing a robe over your body.

You walked over to the kitchen, not seeing your girlfriend or smelling anything that she might have made.

“Wanda?” You looked around.

No response.

You began to panic, walking to the living room where you saw your girlfriend reading a book while listening to Malcolm in the Middle in the background.

You frowned, calling out for her.

“Wanda?” You repeated.

Finally, she turned around, tilting her head.

“Yes Dekta?” She asked.

You couldn't spit what you wanted to say out, and you just fiddled with your fingers.

“Good morning…” You stuttered out.

Wanda just nodded at you before turning her head back to her book and listening to the sitcom you two were supposed to watch *together*.

You felt a surge of anger and sadness being sent up your spine. Why had Wanda been so loving the night before, but now treated you as if you weren't even there? Had she actually forgotten about you?

You walked back to the kitchen, pulling out a bowl and pouring some cereal into it (and then added milk if that's what you like).

“Maybe she's just tired Y/N,” You mumbled to yourself. “Last night was a lot…but…she never acts like this, even after nights like that,”

You dug your spoon into your fruity pebbles, sighing as you just spun the cereal around the white bowl with the metal utensil.

You tried to get some of the not-so-kind thoughts out of your head, and you frowned even deeper as you lifted your spoon to your mouth, swallowing the cereal before putting the spoon back down into the bowl.

You sniffled, putting your head in your hands.

You weren't sure *why* this was affecting you so much, but it was, and that's what mattered right now.

Standing up, you brought the bowl of cereal to the living room, sitting next to Wanda and leaning your head on her shoulder jokingly.

“Wandss…” You kept eating your cereal, hoping to get her attention somehow.

“Hmm?” She didn't even look up from her book.

“Did I do something?” You asked, sitting up now, continuing to eat your cereal.

“Hm? Oh no Dekta, you didn't,” The green-eyed woman slid her finger tip across her tongue before she flipped the page, tilting her head to the left so she could read better.

You frowned, beginning to get ticked off.

“Are you sure?”

Wanda still refused to look up from the words on the page, actually not hearing you, or at least choosing not to.

You scoffed, standing up once you and finished the cereal before putting it in the sink.

You returned to your shared bedroom, and you pulled out your computer, deciding to play a video game to calm your…well you weren't sure what you were feeling. There was a lot of anger, confusion, and definitely a lot of sadness in there as well. The inability to put an exact word on what you were feeling along with the inability to distinguish what was going on definitely had you anxious as well.

After about an hour or two passed, you closed out of the video game, putting your computer on your desk before deciding to clean up a bit.

With everything that was going on with Wanda and her attitude towards you, combined with the remaining anxiety still bubbling over from the mission, you were doing everything you could to keep your mind distracted. You felt that even though the mission was over, you still were nervous about it and whether you did good or not. It seemed like that if Wanda kept up the isolating behavior, you would tip over the edge of a breakdown. You didn't want to tell her about the leftover anxiety last night, because you didn't really need to. You were distracted and with the person that stood as your comfort.

But now with that stability gone, you knew that it was only a matter of time before you lost your happy front.

The room was clean and laundry was fully down in a matter of 4 hours, and you only noticed just how much time had passed when you started to smell her making lunch.

Your eyes lit up, and you pushed the laundry basket underneath the machine before running down the stairs, freezing when you saw your girlfriend eating all by herself.

“Wands, I didn't know you were making lunch…!” You said awkwardly, walking over to the table.

Wanda licked her lips awkwardly, and she bit her lip before putting her fork down.

“Oh um…I'm sorry Dekta, I only made one plate,” She said awkwardly.

“Oh…” You trailed off.

“You can still sit with me if you want, I'm not going to stop you,” The green-eyed witch lifted her fork to her mouth.

You sighed a bit under your breath.

“Alright,” You sat across from her, attempting to make conversation, but only being left with a nod or just complete silence.

The rest of the week wasn't much better, as Wanda had continued this same behavior.

She would make breakfast, lunch and even dinner all for herself. She wouldn't cuddle you in the morning, and she wouldn't even include you in her activities like she always used to before you left.

It was another one of those times where she had left you home by yourself with your dog, Sparky, who sat comfortably in your lap as you stroked his hair.

“You think Wanda still loves me, Sparky?” You asked the fluffy dog who laid there curled up on your thighs as you played another video game, this one being the game you had been trying to teach Wanda how to play so you could play together.

The dog simply licked your leg, his wet slobbery tongue grazing across your skin causing a small smile to break through onto your lips.

“Arf!”

You laughed, scratching the Jack Russell terrier behind his ears.

“You're such a good boy, aren't you?” You chuckled, laughing more as Sparky twirled around in your lap, chasing after his tail.

You put down the controller after you had paused the game, and you hoisted Sparky up to hold him up in your arms.

“I love her so much, and she seemed so happy to see me when I got home, why has everything changed? She promised that nothing would…” You vented to the creature in your arms, your fingers caressing Sparky’s fur from the top of his head down to his tail.

You waited for a few moments, as if giving Sparky the floor to talk, even though he obviously couldn't.

“Yeah, I know I was gone for a whole month, but she promised me everything would still be the same when I came home. I know it was hard for her, but it was for me too,” You turned around, leaning against the armrest of the couch.

Once again you let the dog give his imaginary input.

“I've just been feeling so ignored, like she got used to life without me. She even started watching our show by herself, and she forgets that I'm even there sometimes!” You sniffled, beginning to tear up from all of the emotions washing over you.

The anxiety of the mission, the coldness and complete lack of your existence being acknowledged from your lover, and the adjustments you were still trying to get used to had all begun to finally take their toll on you.

But just as you began to cry your heart out for the first time in months, you heard the front door in front of the living room creek.

You shot your head in the direction of the sounds, and you were shocked to see your girlfriend back so soon.

“W-Wands-? How long have you been there?” You stuttered, sitting up and placing Sparky on the floor so he could run off and resign from his position as your therapist.

“About 5 minutes…” Your girlfriend admitted.

You wiped your eyes, standing up.

“So…so you heard all of that…didn't you?” Your voice wavered.

Wanda nodded, her beautiful green eyes flooding with tears.

“I'm so sorry Dekta, I didn't mean to make you feel so left out…” Her manicured hands, still having chips of the red nail polish you put on them before you left for that God awful mission, lifted up to cup your face.

You let out a small cry at the touch. It felt so alien yet so…so comforting and familiar.

“Oh, oh Dekta, come here,” Wanda pulled you into a tight hug, massaging your scalp with her fingers. “I'm so sorry my love. The month had been so long without you, and I just…I got used to you not being around. But it wasn't a good feeling, it felt so lonely,” She explained with tears pouring out of her green orbs.

“I know, I just- I felt like you forgot about me just like I was worried about,” You cried.

“Oh no baby…I couldn't ever forget you, I just got so used to having you around, and I still felt so miserable from going so long without you in my arms,” Wanda cooed, sitting you down on her lap as she sat on a chair.

You wrapped your arms around her waist like the needy thing you were, and she held you until you both stopped crying (although you cried for much longer than she did).

“I…” Wanda began, biting her lip, looking down at the floor.

You tilted her head up, sniffling.

“Go on,”

She took a deep breath, exhaling softly as you wiped her cheeks free of her tears.

“I've lost so many people in my life…and I've had to become accustomed quickly to them not being there anymore. I was terrified of losing you, and I had already accepted the fact that I would. So when you came home…I tried to knock myself out of the mindset that you weren't here and with me anymore. But no matter what I did, it didn't work until I saw you crying here with Sparky,” The love of your life explained, her hands gripping onto you with a shaky grasp the more she talked. “It’s not an excuse but I-”

You cut her off with a deep kiss, sliding your tongue around here as your hands grasped onto hers as they remained on your hips.

The kiss lasted for about a minute, and Wanda looked at you with wide eyes as the two of you finally pulled apart for air.

“Y/N…” She panted, her digits loosening her grip on your soft skin.

“I forgive you Wanda…” You blurted.

The witch's eyes lit up in a mix of relief and joy.

“You do?”

You nodded.

“I do,”

Her perfect smile returned to her ever perfect face, and it only made you smile back.

“I love you, Y/N,” Wanda looked at you with pure adoration. “More than life itself,”

You chuckled at how soft and sappy she was.

“I love you too, Wanda,”

She pulled you back into her embrace, and the longer she held you, the time that went by without you dissipated from her memory.

If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3

-Akira

[prettymonegasque]

i'll make up for all of your tears

Fic 1 of the 5 Seconds of Formula One series

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Song: Best Years by 5SOS

You've got a million reasons to hesitate

But darling, the future's better than yesterday

"This is a grade-F diamond, sir. It's 2 carats with a platinum band." The salesperson at the store started explaining as Max zoned out.

Being a Formula One Driver with multiple championships under his belt came with the perk of getting everything he wished for, and boy did he use it. However, the thing he wanted most, unfortunately, didn't come with a price tag on it.

He hated the name Y/N L/N, not the first part, the L/N part. He's been working tirelessly since he was 3 to change it to Verstappen and he's closer now than he ever was. Yet a little voice in him constantly whispered "What if you're not good enough for her?" Max knew that voice wasn't wrong.

2015

Max really missed his best friend. He was extremely grateful that he was on a flight home right now because he wasn't sure how long his sanity would last.

Max was ready to sprint to your house the minute they landed, but his father had other plans. Jos had arranged for a meeting with Max's team to discuss the season so far. Scoring points in his debut Formula One season wasn't something Max expected. He knew it was expected of him but never by him. Maybe it was beginner's luck or maybe he let it get to his head, he couldn't score any points in the last few races.

By the time the meeting was over, Max wasn't sure if he was still alive. He was tormented ruthlessly by his dad. He knew it was all for his good. Everything his dad ever did was for Max to become the World Champion one day. He understood that and he was beyond guilty for messing with that plan with his incompetency. Before he realised, his legs had brought him to your doorstep.

"Maxie! You're back!" The smile on your face was enough for Max. He spent the rest of the day in your room while you caught him up to speed with everything that had happened while he was away. "Oh and then Anton kissed me at the formal! It was beautiful, Max. He brought me flowers and everything" Max could feel his eyes twitching.

He wanted to be your first kiss. He knew he wouldn't be able to make it to the dance, but he didn't know he'd be losing you that night. "Anton kissed you?" he tried to remain calm. "Yes. Love Me Like You Do was playing, and it was all very romantic. You were right, Max. It was worth the wait. He even asked me out!" He was about to lose it.

Every time you complained that you hadn't had your first kiss yet, Max would ask you to be patient. He wanted to make something of himself before he kissed you and now it backfired on him spectacularly. "You let Anton kiss you?? That wimpy little bastard?" Anton wasn't going to win a beauty pageant any time soon but you liked him. He was your boyfriend.

"Don't call him that, Maxie. I really like him. He's nice to me."

"Yeah sure, did he have to use his inhaler mid-kiss?"

"Max that is so rude! Can you not be a jerk?" You tried your best to reason with him. "No no. I wish you and Anton a happy relationship. Don't come crying to me when you find out his dick is smaller than your pinky." Max stormed out of the room, slamming the door on his way out. He knew he crossed a line. He could hear you crying. He hated the person he was in that room.

I wasted so much time on people that reminded me of you

Gave you a million reasons to walk away

Present Day

He'd been to every jeweller in Monte Carlo. Not a single one of them had a ring that would be worthy of your hand. Max was getting frustrated. He can't screw up the ring. It's the only thing that matters in a proposal. No one ever asks "Can I hear the long lame speech Max said on one knee?", it's always "Can I see the ring?" He sighed as he entered another store, Chaumet. It was supposed to have some unique pieces. The same warm tight smile welcomed him in the store. He explained to the salesperson what he was looking for. He was shown the same basic rings he saw in the last eight shops.

"No. No. No, none of these are good. I'm looking for something unique. Something extraordinary. This person means everything to me and while the ring can never be worthy of her, I want it to try." Max was exasperated. His throat was starting to close up and he looked like he was about to strangle someone. The employee gave a polite smile and went to the back. He returned with a small box.

"This is a pear-cut Amsterdam diamond. It's our rarest piece. This isn't for public display but I think this is exactly what you're looking for." The salesperson had a smirk that was proud yet humble at the same time. Max hesitantly took a closer look at the ring. It wasn't huge but it surely looked rare and exotic, just like you. "I'll take it"

2018

As you've done every year, you showed up to the Kumpen Christmas Dinner. But this time there was a man by your side. Lo and behold, it was Anton. To Max's frustration, Anton had quite the glow-up. He was no longer the skimpy little kid with an inhaler. And Max couldn't bear looking at you look at him like he hung the fucking moon and stars for you. You were supposed to look at Max that way.

"So, Max, how are things in F1 world?" You made polite conversation as you cut your steak. "It's alright," Max replied. "You know, Anton works at Goldman Sachs. Aren't they a sponsor of some Formula One team?" You questioned. "Ah yes. We sponsor Mclaren." Anton smiled. "Maybe you two should visit Max during one of his races next season. Wouldn't that be nice?" Sophie suggested. "Oh, that would be fun! We should plan that, Max." You were excited by the idea.

"I don't know. Christian wouldn't be happy with letting in Mclaren people in the garage."

"We'd come as your friends"

"Yeah, I don't think so." Max stood up dropped his serviette and walked out the door. Of course, it wasn't his first time walking out of a room you were in.

Max knew it was a really bad idea to go to a strip club. He makes bad decisions even when calm and sober, who knows what will happen when he's angry and shit-faced. He was cold from walking in the snow for the last three hours and it was the only place open at 1 am on Christmas Day.

He couldn't see well in the dark but he sort of remembered tipping a stripper €1000 for a lap dance. He was getting angrier by the second. He was losing you by the second and there was nothing he could do to get you. He waited too long and everything slipped away from him. He had officially hit rock bottom.

"Hey, sexy. I'm Y/N. You here all by yourself?" Max thought he was hallucinating. There was no way you were at the strip club. He turned to see a blonde in a baby-blue bodysuit. It wasn't his Y/N. "What's your name?" Max slurred. "It's Y/N. But I can be whatever you want tonight." She started running her finger up his torso. "No. No. I want you to be Y/N." Max got up and dragged her to the private room.

I wanna hold you hair when you drink too much

Carry you home when you cannot stand up

Present Day

It's been a week since Max got the ring. He kept it safely hidden. He couldn't find the perfect moment to pop the question. He wanted everything to be perfect for his perfect girl. He can't mess this up.

2020

"He broke up with me" You stood in front of his flat. Max took a second to process the sight in front of him. You were clearly drunk and had been crying. Your makeup was running down your face. There was a dirty bouquet tightly clutched in your hands. Max simply brought you in and sat you on the couch while he went to grab some wet wipes.

He could hear your quiet sobs from his room. His heart broke to see you like this. He wanted to kill Anton. That motherfucker should've been dead long ago. He was spared for Y/N. Nothing was protecting him now. Max put away those thoughts for a bit and worked on getting you sober.

He walked into the living room. "I threw up." You said staring at the ceiling. There weren't any emotions in your eyes. You looked like a shell of the person you once were. Max carried you to the bathroom. He'd worry about the mess later.

He sat you on the counter and started wiping away your makeup and tears. You soon started to heave and leapt towards the toilet. Max held your hair back as you were throwing up. Part of him knew this was his redemption. This was his chance to make you, his. Unfortunately, he was raised better. He wasn't going to ask you out until he was worthy of you. He discarded those thoughts and carried you to the bed, pulling a duvet over you.

"Maxie, I'm still mad at you for not making it to the formal." He heard you mumble with your eyes still closed. "Me too, schatje. Me too." He whispered and turned off the light.

But I'll build a house out of the mess And all the broken pieces I'll make up for all of your tears

Present Day

Max could barely focus on the slides. He was stuck in an aero meeting, but his thoughts were all on the little black box burning a hole in his pocket. Of course, he carried it to Milton Keynes. He carries it everywhere.

He replayed every scenario where he was an asshole to you. You forgave him every time, but he knew he wasn't worthy of your forgiveness. You were too pure, too sweet for him. One misstep and you'll recoil away from forever. His stomach gurgled and he started sweating. He could feel his heartbeat racing.

"Excuse me." He walked out of the room with the little modesty left in him before sprinting outside. Fresh air and your voice are the only things that could save him now. 

“Hey. It’s me.”

2021

Everything was down to the last lap. This was everything Max had worked for. Every late night, every lashing from his dad, every missed formal, every second he spent away from you. It was all for this very second. As he turned towards Turn 16 in the Yas Marina Circuit, your face was all he could see. The chequered flag waved as he crossed the line. He’s won the 2021 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, he’s won the World Driver’s Championship. Most importantly, he’s won you. He’s finally worthy of you. 

He could not care less about the controversy surrounding his win. He parked his car in the No. 1 spot and ran towards his team. This was his moment, he wasn’t going to let some legal altercations take it away from him. 

He spotted you in the crowd from the podium, you were crying and screaming the Dutch National Anthem. After the champagne, he chucked the trophy at his physio and ran to you. He wasn’t going to wait anymore. No more missing anything. He was all yours if you had him. 

You were waiting for him near the Red Bull garage. “Y/N. I need to talk to you.” Before you could reply, he pulled you aside. “I’ve waited long enough. I spent the last 21 years making a better man of myself. I don’t know if that cancels out on all the times I’ve been rude and insensitive to you. But schatje, I promise, from this second I will do everything in my ability to make myself worthy of you and your love.” 

I promise, darling, you won't regret The best years I'll give you the best years

Present Day

You were gonna come home any minute. Max had spent the entire day cleaning the house and cleaning it again. He even pulled out some Christmas lights and decorated the living room. “Maybe I should light some candles” He wondered out loud. Jimmy jumped onto the sofa from nowhere, scaring Max and negating the candle idea. 

When he said he was going to ask you to marry him in your house, his friends and family considered it a bit unromantic. His mum and sister went as far as sending him blogs titled “Top 10 romantic spots to get engaged” But this house was more than just a house, it was home. The pair of you carefully curated and constructed this house, making it your very own. 

The Smart Home system alerted Max that there was movement in the garage. You were here. He did a quick sweep of the room and sighed. He wasn’t sure if the sigh was out of anxiety or happiness, but he was going to find out in about 5 minutes.

The front door opened. “Max. I’m home.” You called out like you did every day. You placed your keys on the little Lighting McQueen and Sally key stand on the wall. Sassy was already nudging at your legs begging for attention. “Hey, girly. Where’s daddy?” You cooed. The house was a little too quiet. Maybe Max was in the sim room. You walked to the living room and turned the lights on. 

“What the fuck?” were the first words to come out of your mouth when you saw the entire room glowing with Christmas Lights and Max on one knee in the middle of the room. You must be asleep. There is no way this is happening. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” You started to tear up.

“Y/N. I’ve given you a million reasons to hesitate, a million reasons to walk away. Yet you stayed by me, every single time. I couldn’t ask for a better friend, a better lover and a better wife to spend the rest of my life with. I’ve wasted so much time on people that reminded me of you when I should’ve been by your side. I want to hold your hand as we grow old. I want to carry you home when you cannot stand up. You did all those things for me when I was half a man for you. But darling, I promise, I’ll give you the best years. Will you marry me?” 

“Yes, Max. I want to marry you.”

A/N: Ahh!! The first fic is out now!! I truly enjoyed writing this. If you saw this being posted on Nov 2 instead of Nov 1, as per schedule, turn the other way pls thanks. Oscar x English Love Affair is next. See you all on November 8. Send an ask to be added to the taglist.

Love, Abby x

taglist: @evermoreandroyalblue  @stelena-klayley @honethatty12 @pippyth3hippy

[leclarifies]

off the grid - III

✰ max verstappen x !driver reader ✰

summary: you strived for nothing but perfection. nothing less was expected from you. being a female formula one driver made it even harder for you to make mistakes. you figured that dating max, your biggest rival yet, wasn't a mistake...right...?

genre: kinda slow-burn? mostly angst, eventual fluff at the end.

wc: 5.3k

a/n: hi, i have been VERY busy HAHAHA. not proofread or checked for grammar mistakes bc i wanted to push this part out asap, please excuse any spelling mistakes. thank u so much for reading

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"(monaco) oklahoma, you made a man out of me." - lany, 'cowboy in l.a'

all you remembered was the screaming.

the glass shattering.

your mother reaching out for you as you curled up into a ball on the floor.

you had your hands covering your eyes, you were just 16 after all.

"you're insane! we promised not to fight in front of our child, now you're throwing things at me?" your mother had yelled, you squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting anything to do with it.

"if you were the one fucking men behind my bed, then i wouldn't be throwing shit at you!" your father retaliated, throwing another glass that narrowly hit your face.

why was this happening to you?

"if wouldn't have cheated if you just paid attention to this family falling apart for once!" your mother had left your side to go and physically fight with your father.

you were in the corner of the room, back facing them as you endured all the fighting.

"stop it! i hate you guys fighting, STOP IT!"

when was this going to end?

a gasp escaped your lips as you sat up from the nightmare. it's been happening a lot recently.

your throat was dry, sweat dripped down your forehead as you assessed where you were and what was happening.

there was a indescribable feeling that specific nightmare gave you, and you couldn't place your finger on it.

maybe it was when all of your childhood trauma started, the first ever fight you had witnessed from your parents, or maybe that was when you realized that you chasing your dreams was a little heavy on the family expenses.

you didn't know.

all you knew right now was that you hated the way it made you feel, how it made your skin crawl, how it raised goosebumps on the nape of your neck.

"are you alright?" max's soft and sleepy voice emerges from his bedroom, and that's when you finally recognized where you were. he had heard shouts of distress, knowing that it was you in another nightmare.

you turned your head slightly to meet his eyes, his soft blue sleepy eyes that were flashed with concern and worry. words were stuck in your throat as you tried to get them out, but all that came out were pathetic sobs.

you curl up in a similar position that you once knew all too well, and sobbed while hugging your legs. max was quick to jump to your side, stroking your head as he usually does and asks you what was wrong but the words wouldn't come out. a mixed feeling of regret and self-pity bubbled up in your chest as max captures you in a hug.

all you could do was sob in his shoulder.

"it's okay, i'm here. nothing can hurt you anymore. i'm here," max spoke softly as you tried to come down from the nightmare.

"i-... max—"

"shh, it's okay. i'm here, you're okay."

you didn't want to be a burden to anyone anymore, and tonight, you were feeling everything like being a burden to everyone.

"her expenses are getting out of hand, we cannot keep fueling her karting career if this goes on," your mother had been whispering under her breath but you could hear her, hiding behind a wall. you freshly turned 17.

"she is chasing her dreams, i am not letting you rip that away from her," your father sternly spoke to your mother.

"she is nothing more than a burden to our expenses, can't you see? she will never get far in karting, women never do. stop fueling her delusions like this, it's not good for anyone or anything," your mom interjected again as she throws the bills into the kitchen counter.

you never knew that your mother had felt that way about your karting career. it hurt.

more than the comments of the boys on the grid.

because at the end of the day, even your own mom didn't believe in you.

why should you believe in yourself?

"you are a cruel woman. how do you think she'll feel when she hears that from her own mother?" your father had reprimanded your mother, his eyes sharp and his tongue even sharper, "why can't you believe in your daughter for once? does it cost you money to be supportive?"

"in this case, yes! she is draining the expenses and you know it," your mother growls, just loud enough for you to hear.

god how you wished she understood how you felt.

you had fallen asleep in max's arms once again, maybe the third time this week. max never had the heart to wake you up and leave your side after a particularly bad dream, so he would always move you to lay on top of his chest and sleep with you on the sofa.

you stirred awake for a bit when you felt him move you.

"max..?" you mumbled, your eyes barely open but planted a soft, chaste kiss on your forehead. it fluttered something in your sleepy stomach that you couldn't quite place.

"sleep."

"you can always go back in your room," you slurred your words from the tiredness from the emotional draining you had to do earlier but he shook his head gently, saying no to your suggestion.

"sleep."

"but—"

"sleep, schatje."

you woke up the next day to max's hushed voice talking, he sounded quite irritated. it sounded like he was fighting. none of the words made sense to you until you finally started waking up.

"—like i said kelly. i want nothing to do with you anymore— you cannot use p as leverage. i'm happy now..." max's hushed voice trailed off, you fluttered your eyes open to see that he was sitting up and you were laying on his lap.

you sleepily look up at him before he smiles at you, focusing back on his phone call, "i have someone else now kelly, if you can't accept that then it's your issue to deal with," he mumbled before shutting off the phone, finally giving you all of his undivided attention.

"kelly giving you trouble again?" you ask, sleep laced in your voice, stretching a tiny bit, he pat your head twice and nodded.

kelly had been borderline harassing him, almost a year later and begging to take her back. maybe she finally realized how hard her life was once she couldn't mooch off his money anymore.

"just the usual, i can't be arsed to deal with her."

you sit up and look at max apologetically, "did i give you a lot of trouble last night? i'm sorry for bothering you again, i told you i would be able to handle it by myself."

max rolled his eyes sarcastically, really not minding and liking the way he had to take care of you and how you naturally drifted towards him for comfort.

"i told you, i want to take care of you. you're not a burden to me, you are perfectly fine just the way you are," max had said, while he was talking he had stood up right in front of you and held both of your hands.

"i just don't want to feel like i'm burdening anyone anymore, i just—... i hate it," you look up at him, "you understand how i feel right? i just don't want you to feel—"

"you're doing it again."

a sigh left your lips and you look away from max's blue eyes, "look at me," he tells you softly, finger hooked underneath your chin to make you look at him.

"you're doing okay, you're fine. i am here for you. you're gonna do great this season," max had told you words of encouragement, "i am so proud of you. just do your best. i will always be here to support you."

"thank you max."

"you're welcome schatje."

"this question is for y/n, how do you feel coming into this season of formula one? your third year and it has been a fabulous ride with you in the red," the interviewer had asked, you were elected to be on the panel for media interviews this time around.

you put the mic up your mouth and spoke, "i feel great, helping ferrari get their constructors' cup after so long did help with that feeling. charles also had a hand in this, so i won't take all the credit. i do wish to win the driver's championship this year— that's if charles lets me," you finish it off with a chuckle as you glance at charles who was on the left of you.

charles gives you a teasing look which you roll your eyes playfully to.

"next question is to max," the interviewer smoothly moves over to max who was to your right, you glance at him before listening to what the question was, "how is your car after testing season? do you think you guys might be able to fight for the constructors' cup this year? why or why not?"

"i think the car is miles better than last year, i think we have a good shot in winning the constructors' cup this year— no offense to the two ferrari drivers to the left of me," max gives you a glance as you both lock eyes, you swiftly look ahead and to the panel of interviewers.

the interview was shortly wrapped up as you guys were dismissed to head home for the night. third day of testing had finally finished and you just had enough of the media duties for today. having to film content for ferrari socials as well.

it was almost routine for the two of you guys to walk to your hotel and just yap to eachother for about thirty minutes of the walk, as you were wrapping things up and gathering your things in the motorhome, charles walks in and greets you.

"you going home with verstappen tonight?" charles winks at you as he approaches you and stands next to you, you scoff and nod, "you've been spending a lot of time with him lately and a small birdie tells me that you also live in the same apartment as him."

"we've been living in the same building for almost a year now charles, where have you been?" you joke with him as you zip up your dufflebag and carry it on your shoulder.

charles just laughs as your response and shrugs, "you guys getting closer? in that sense, if you know what i mean," he wiggles his eyebrows and you laugh and shake your head, knowing everything between the two of you guys was entirely— maybe not entirely but they were mostly platonic.

"you are worse than the media pen charles, really," you laugh as you wave him off, wanting to retire for the night. now you knew why charles asked if you were going home with max or not, he was waiting for you outside of the motorhome.

you smiled at him and he smiled at you, motioning to the exit as you followed close behind him.

throughout the years of spending time in his apartment, you had slowly but surely opened up about things that have happened in the past that still haunted you to this day. max did the same. telling you similar stories from his childhood that he fortunately had gotten over as the years went by.

but they were still scabbed scars that you kept picking on, making them bleed red every time you remembered.

it had barely been a decade since you escaped your childhood home, filled with fighting and violence from your mother.

max was there through the countless nights of nightmares, always holding you tight and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

you always hated those nights.

not only did you feel like a burden to max, but you felt as if you were burdening the entire world.

no one should see you in that state.

smack!

the sound of the slap rang through the air as you protested your mother not letting you leave the house.

"you are not going to your silly races anymore, you are a girl, y/n. act like one," your mother had sternly reprimanded you, but you only glared at her in response, not being able to say anything. knowing that if you did, sobs will come out and your mother would make fun of you.

"just because me and your father divorced, doesn't mean i'm going to support this stupid delusion of yours going into formula one, never," your mother had continued as she dragged you by the shirt into your room, "now sit there and think about how pretty you're going to dress up when you go to tonight's party."

the door slammed shut in your face.

you called your father of course and getting you out of your mother's house was a hassle, your mother was refusing entry to your father because it was not his day of visitation and your father was trying to force himself in because it was race day and you were due there.

it was your debut in formula 2, and your mother had managed to make it hell for you. first race and you had tears in your eyes because what you had to go through in your mother's home.

your debut in formula 2 wasn't smooth, nor was it easy. but you had your father there at least, cheering from the sidelines. it was tough enough that the f1 academy didn't exist at this time, only being able to progress through to f1 to actually compete with the nepo babies that surrounded the paddock.

"you okay?" max had stopped in front of you, you blinked plainly before focusing on his blue eyes, you bit your lip, feeling guilty. he was probably talking about something and you were not listening.

"uh, yeah. sorry, i was just in my own head there," you smile slightly at you, "were you saying something?" your brain had been running completely on autopilot, just walking wherever max was walking.

max looked at you that said it all.

"stop thinking about her, she's not worth your time. are you really gonna let her ruin your days in f1?" max crossed his arms in front of his chest, "you told me that's what most of your dreams were about, she terrorizes your dream but you cannot let her ruin this for you."

"it's easier said than done, max," you look up at him sadly before looking away from his gaze, you hated the way he looked at you when he knows what you're going through. as if he could see through the tough exterior you built for yourself.

max gently took your hand and caressed it.

this was what you meant when it was mostly platonic.

"look at me— look at me when i'm talking to you, y/n l/n."

you gently tore your gaze away from the city skylines and look up to lock eyes with his steely blue eyes, they were like the sky. you just couldn't look away sometimes.

"i believe in you, okay? you have been a wonderful driver the two years you've been in formula one, do you understand?"

you nod at his encouraging words, not knowing what else to say. the words lost as they reached your mouth.

"you have achieved so many things in your rookie year that so many people in the sport can only dream of doing, have a little faith in yourself and in your skills," max gently squeezed the hand he was holding, "hell, you even beat me to the constructors' cup last year and the year before that—"

"charles helped—"

"do you always have to discredit yourself when it comes to your team's achievements?"

you could only sigh when he said that, you genuinely believed that you didn't deserve to be here. that someone much more talented did, not realizing that you indeed do have the skills, that you just had to give yourself more grace.

"yeah, that's what i thought. let's go back to the hotel and relax, okay? you deserve it. sometimes being in the paddock for too long can mess you up," max says before tugging you along back to the hotel.

"radio check," anthony sounded out from the garage, you were ready for this race. you were always ready for a good race.

"loud and clear," you say as you sat in your car, starting front row next to max. taking pole was easy in monaco this time round.

"okay y/n, stick to plan a. don't take unnecessary risks. just play it safe, defend, and bring it home," anthony had reminded you, you hum a response before focusing completely on the race.

fred had informed that they were going to prioritize you this race, charles has been having engine problems since free practice and he told you that it was okay for you to take the lead on this one, not having much hope on his car seeing the mountain of problems it had caused him this weekend, but he was still willing to try. placing himself p4 on the grid.

"welcome to the monaco grand prix this weekend, as we see l/n on pole, verstappen p2, lando norris p3 and charles leclerc p4. merely seconds from the start of the race, it's lights out and away we go!"

you booked it from lights out, pedal to the metal when you saw the red lights go off.

max was always resilient when it came to racing, even though he had a soft spot for you (which he will never admit outloud), he still respected you enough to still think of you as a competent driver and would never give you an easy win.

max was still as aggressive as ever, always taking the chance to fight for that spot for p1. but this was your home race and you were going to die before you let max get first place easily.

lap after lap, max tried to contest the your lead, but you were smart, conserving your tyres when you didn't need them as much and pushing them to their limits when you did need them.

"we're gonna have you box together with charles," anthony had informed you through the radio, but you interjected.

"can we box when the red bull boxes? i don't want to take the chance of us losing this lead when we have it in the bag," you told anthony but he wasn't having any of it.

"just trust us, y/n. we have this. box with charles next lap, then fight for p1 again. they're going to have to eventually box too," anthony rejected your idea so you followed the team's lead and did exactly that.

charles had climbed and overtaken norris and helped you defend from max, being aggressive with max meant that he had less aggressiveness to put on you, which made it perfect for you.

"and ferrari has decided to double box against l/n's decision to keep pushing, letting max through to p1, whilst the ferrari duo now sits in p4 and p5."

lando was ahead of you, alongside george who had managed to take p3 while you boxed, but you had the advantage of heating up hard tyres and overtook him easily.

overtime, you slowly got to p3 with a double overtake with charles. him taking p4 respectively.

you didn't exactly know what happened between lando and max because you were behind lando, but at the hairpin, but they both lost control and crashed into the barrier, your eyes widened as you zoomed past the both of them, ferrari taking p1 & p2 simultaneously.

"is max okay?"

"focus on the race, y/n. he will be fine."

"no, tell me what's going on with the red bull and mclaren, did lando rear-end max?" you asked hurriedly, still trying your best to bring this race home.

"i will update you as soon as i get info," that was anthony's way of telling you to shut the fuck up and focus on the race.

your mind was racing a million miles an hour, you were worried. for once, it wasn't the two of you involved in a crash.

you brought the race home at the end, scoring a ferrari 1-2, but your mind was not there on the podium where it should be.

"dad!" you yell as you see your father in the ferrari garage after all of the celebratory processes had been gone through, tears instantly brought to your eyes, you run and almost knock him over from the force of you flying and hugging him.

"i'm so proud of you," your father held you tight and you cried into his arms, "i always believed you could, now i'm looking at the future world champion."

and that's where you finally realize, maybe you did deserve the iconic red car after all.

"i'm going to break that mclaren wing, i swear," you mutter quietly as you sit next to max who was resting on the hospital bed of the medical center, you had gone straight to visit max as you finished everything up around the paddock.

"you have anger issues—"

"i do not!" you gasped and looked at max who had a loopy smile on his face, you act as if that was a scandalous thought and scoffed. he was under some painkillers to manage the pain of whatever injuries he sustained from the crash

"you do, you always have. even when you were a rookie. i remember when you crashed into me on that quali, it was funny watching the race over and hearing you say motherfucker over the radio. you got fined for that right?" max asked, glancing at you who was on his left.

with a sigh and a huff, you reply a small 'yes' before crossing your arms in front of your chest like a child throwing a tantrum.

again, max would never admit it outloud but he considered you cute.

the door of the room opened to reveal a lando with a few of mclaren's representatives, he had a sorry look on his face but you frowned when you saw him.

you then caught yourself and was confused, what was this feeling?

protectiveness? care?

what the hell was this?

you cringe at yourself before lando gave you a raised eyebrow.

"is there a problem?" lando asked before you catch yourself another time, eyes wide and shook your head.

"sorry, made a face out loud on accident."

lando looked away from you for a split second before turning to look at max, "hey mate, i'm really sorry about crashing into you back there. it was a complete mistake on my part."

they sorted out whatever "beef" they had and that night max was cleared to go home. you had volunteered to take him back to his apartment, since it was monaco, the fia didn't have to book hotels for the both of you.

max had a gentle hand always holding yours as you walked him back to your apartments.

he had stopped in the middle of his tracks, your hands naturally disconnected, you turned to ask him if he was alright before he uttered the words out of his lips.

"what are we?"

you looked at him, almost confused. you passed it off as the meds at first.

"max, you're drugged. don't say things you don't mean," you walk a few steps to grab his hand again, but he was steadfast in his resolve. not wanting to move until you answered his question.

but you didn't know the answer to that either.

"answer the question, y/n," max said softly, he didn't want to make it seem like he was mad at you, he never was, "what are we exactly? i kiss you on the forehead to comfort you and i call you schatje but you've never reciprocated my moves, so tell me what are we?"

"schatje is a term of endearment right? what do you mean by that max?" max had always told you at schatje was something that someone would call their loved ones, you didn't bother searching it up either because he was the native dutch here, you took his word for it.

"i lied," max said quietly, his eyes were on the floor and he looked absolutely rejected.

you could never ignore the feelings that bloomed in your chest when max would sacrifice his sleep for you, the way he would wrap his arms around you, the way he would kiss your forehead with so much love in his eyes that he might break if he held in anymore.

you never realized it until now.

"so what does it mean?" you asked as you stood in front of him, trying to search for the answers in his pretty blue eyes but all you could see were the hints of disappointment and sadness.

"it means love, or baby— it doesn't matter what it means," max was frustrated now, you could tell by the way he tousled with his hair when he finished his sentence, he wanted an answer and fast.

you didn't know what to answer with.

it was undeniable that you did reciprocate his feelings but you didn't know how to word it out.

you were always bad with words.

"i don't know what to answer you with," you replied, as honest as you could get, you didn't want any misunderstandings with max. especially not now, not ever.

you guys had gotten close for a reason. he was your safe space, as you were his and you didn't want to throw it away all for a title to name the two of you.

"so you don't feel the same way? all these months of me comforting you, patiently listening and waiting for you to open up? it was all because you considered me a friend?" max asked, his grip off your hand was now slipping.

it was also a metaphor of your relationship with him breaking apart.

"i'm— i don't know max. this is all confusing to me, i've never dated anyone before and i don't know how to answer—"

"so when i kiss you, you don't feel it in your chest too? the warmth? the comfort? it's all just flat— just platonic to you?" max took a step back, it was almost he was stepping back from whatever was going on between the two of you.

"i'm not saying that—"

"let's not ruin your win tonight by arguing," max brushed past by you and continued to walk, not bothering to look back to see if you were following or not.

you weren't.

"p6, dnf, p10, p12, dnf, p18, p16, dnf— do you actually want to be a formula one driver, y/n?" fred had dropped a stack of papers of data of your past performances, you were frustrated too. you hadn't been able to get a good night's worth of sleep since monaco.

"look, i told you. i'm just having trouble with sleeping and the doctor prescribed me with pills for the insomnia too, what else do you expect from me fred?" you asked with a sigh, rubbing your temple, absolutely frustrated with your recent performance too.

"i want you to bring whatever you did in monaco, this isn't good enough for me, y/n. i can't keep defending you forever," fred had told you before leaving you with a headache and a stack of papers to analyze over.

"fucking fuck shit, stupid—" you stopped yourself as you set your elbows on the table and rubbed your face with your hands.

max...

it felt like you were stuck in a loop.

a never-ending, bad performing loop.

you didn't know what to do, you ate those sleeping pills like candy and they did nothing.

nightmares were more frequent now, having them almost everyday. the stress was slowly getting to you and you could see it in your performance.

you spent that night going over the data and simulating your races. your best tracks, worst ones and picked apart what you could do better.

every race, even your best tracks. it ended with something stupid.

understeering, oversteering, bumping into your own teammate, bumping into sim max, bumping into literally everything that wasn't supposed to be bumped into.

it was supposed to be flawless— you were supposed to be flawless.

what the fuck happened?

you knew the answer to that but didn't dare answer it for yourself.

"it's not working," you whispered to yourself as you took off the headphones and practically slammed it against the desk you were currently occupying. it was useless.

everything was fucking useless when it came to you.

your relationship with max was strained, he wouldn't even look at your direction, let alone talk with you. while him and charles were celebrating most of their podiums in the cooldown room, you were stuck here, overanalyzing whatever the fuck you did wrong.

rubbing your face with your hands again, you had barely heard someone come into the room with you with a sympathetic smile.

"it's one of those slumps, is it?" charles' voice had flowed into the room and it startled you, nearly jumping out of your own skin.

"jesus fucking christ, charles. knock," you rubbed your temples, your sleep-deprivation had earned you major migraines, they were practically permanently thumping in your skull now.

"sorry, i overheard fred talking to you earlier. then he told me that you might need a little help..." charles trailed off as he noticed the mess all over you, it was late and your flight for the next grand prix was due tomorrow morning.

"it's fine— i'm fine. i am not a child that needs to be babysat," you spat out in anger, "if he wants to get rid of me, he can. fucking coward," you growled the last part under your breath but charles was still understanding your situation.

"you know y/n, it's okay to ask for help sometimes—"

"i don't need help! i just need to sleep for once in my life," you closed your eyes, hoping for the thumping in your skull to just go away.

"are—"

"just get out."

first simulation, crash, dnf.

second, collision, dnf.

third, mistake on the curbs, p9.

fourth, spun out, dnf.

fifth, minimal mistakes, could be better, p2.

80% of your simulations ended in a crash.

"how the fuck did i do so well earlier this season? fucking shit ass car, shit ass team, shit ass driver—"

it was max.

"shut up!" you screamed out loud at your brain.

you were spiraling, it was obvious to everyone else but yourself.

being behind the wheel only a week after your kiss with the barriers had unnerved you.

was it even legal to drive an f1 car being this sleep-deprived?

you didn't want to know the answer to that.

"just focus on the race yeah? don't stress yourself out on anything else, just do your best—"

"i don't need your shitty peptalks before my race, anthony," you warned your race engineer and he didn't say anything remotely encouraging for the rest of the race.

your performance this time around was better than the rest of the races you overanalyzed a week ago.

p3.

podium.

more humans to interact with... yay.

if there was a time where you wanted to die, this was it.

max was in the cooldown room with charles.

you were dreading it.

"good job on the podium today! i knew you could do it," charles flashed you a big smile, you could only give him a small smile back.

this wasn't your peak performance, you knew it but you didn't want to say anything snappy, feeling bad for the words you yelled at him the other week.

you weren't doing good, and he knew so he always gave you some grace.

you didn't utter a word in that cooldown room, feeling lightheaded from the adrenaline and the lack of sleep.

you couldn't even feel the cold champagne on your skin when it came to podium celebrations, you were just thankful it was time to go home back to monaco when the race was over. autumn break was in full-swing and you wanted to sleep the entire break over.

THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE IM SORRY. i have been very busy :[

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 12

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 11 | Series Masterlist | Part 13

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.7k

Chapter Summary: Bucky gets under your skin when he takes you shopping.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dirty talk, mild dubcon (kissing, touching), tension, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, gaslighting, manipulation, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and hope you enjoy! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren’t sure how much time passed with Bucky’s head resting in your lap, your fingers absentmindedly moving through his hair. While his body relaxed, you remained rigid. You tried to think of positive things. Your upcoming trip to the winery, Addison’s wedding. The images in your mind darkened though as if a cloud loomed over them. In a way, it did because you didn’t know what Bucky had planned for those events. Because even if Bucky really let you go to the winery alone, someone would be watching.

You forced the cloud in your mind to lift. Things could still be positive. You could still have a good day and have the best time with your friends.

“I’m sorry, but I have to get back to work,” you whispered.

“Of course,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your thigh and lifting his head with a smile. The darkness had left his eyes. How long until it returned? “Thank you for calming me down.”

“Of course,” you echoed because what else could you do?

Brushing his pants off once he got to his feet, he helped you up and didn’t let go of your hand. You didn’t attempt to pull away. He made sure to grab the money you left on the table before he paid the server and you tried to give the poor guy a smile when you thanked him. You just wanted to get on with your day.

As Bucky led you out of the cafe and back to the shop, you caught Ray’s gaze as he stood by the car and waited for his boss. Whatever concern he showed for you faded when he blinked. How did he deal with this life? Would he ever walk away from it?

“I’ll pick you up after work then?” Bucky asked.

“Sure,” you said. You didn’t tell him when your shift ended, but he knew, didn’t he? “Thanks for lunch.”

“It was my pleasure, but one more thing.” Bucky stopped you before you could enter the shop. “This regular customer you mentioned earlier. How often does he stop in?”

He asked as if he had no idea and maybe he didn’t in this case. That assumption didn’t ease your worries. “Once a month,” you said, your stomach turning slightly. “Listen, the roses he tried to give to me, I gave them to him first. They were his usual order and I thought it would be nice gesture and I was just-”

His brows pinched a little as his hands gently framed your cheeks. “Kotyonok, why do you sound so upset?” He asked, his thumbs moving in a soothing motion as you took a deep breath. “Wait, are you scared that I’d be mad at you?”

“I… I don’t know,” you said. You didn’t necessarily think he’d be upset with you, but after his mood swings at lunch and everything else so far you weren't sure what to expect. “I just don't know.”

“No, no, no, I’m not mad at you. Why would I be mad that you were kind to another person? That’s one of the things I love about you. It drew me to you,” he assured you. You oddly felt better by his assurance. “I don’t want you to stop doing kind things for others because you’re worried it might upset me.”

“So, it doesn’t upset you?”

“You being you would never upset me,” he smiled. He had said more than once that he loved you as a person, so maybe he was telling the truth. “A man trying to give flowers to you while going through a break-up is, at the very least, a little strange.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you said, not wanting to admit that he had a point and that you were slightly put off when Clark tried to give the roses to you.

“I’m also well aware that you don’t hit on any guy who comes into your shop, so I wouldn’t view any act of kindness to a customer as trying to get their attention.”

“That’s true,” you agreed. Even Ray had pointed out to you that you didn’t give guys in the shop the time of day. Why would you when most of them were buying flowers for someone else? “But I just wanted you to know.”

“I appreciate you telling me, but you have nothing to worry about. Just have a good rest of the day.” With a kiss to the corner of your mouth, he whispered, “I’ll be thinking of you until I see you again.”

You weren’t sure why your heart fluttered. Relief that Bucky reacted calmly to what you said? You didn’t dwell on it as he held the door open and smiled after you as you went back into the shop. It was time to concentrate on work again.

Mrs. Crandle smiled and waved to Bucky through the door. “Oh, he is a looker,” she winked. ���How was lunch, dear?”

“The food was good and Bucky and I got to talk a bit, which was… nice,” you answered, glancing around the shop and wondering if the place was bugged, too. Could he get access to the shop? Letting you continue to work seemed too good to be true, but he’d have nothing to worry about if he had eyes and ears there, too. “He’s taking me shopping tonight.”

She clapped her hands. “Oh, that’s wonderful! And don’t you dare be modest. Let him spoil you.”

“I have a feeling he’ll spoil me even if I don't ask him to,” you said.

Your whole experience with Bucky was whether you wanted it or not, so why would he stop now?

As expected, Bucky arrived back at the shop a few hours later to pick you up. Instead of giving him the chance to go inside and speak to Mrs. Crandle again, you grabbed your bag and rushed out the door to greet him. He caught you easily when you nearly collided with him, and for the first time, you felt like you were intruding in his space instead of the other way around.

“Eager to see me?” He smiled, his voice teasing as he kept a hand on your shoulder and helped you into the vehicle when you didn’t immediately answer. “How was the rest of your shift? I hope no one else bothered you.”

Just you.

“It was uneventful. I got a lot done,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you from the normalcy of your afternoon. “And no one bothered me.” Your gaze flickered to him and he was hanging onto your every word. He also looked much more relaxed, like the moodiness at lunch never happened. “How about you? How was your day?”

“Also uneventful. A couple of boring calls. Kept thinking about you though and it got me through the day,” he said, slipping an arm around you as the car door closed. The way you two were speaking to each other sounded almost normal. Checking in on each other, seeing how the other was doing. “Steve asked about that double date.”

“I’m sure he’s excited for that,” you said, wondering if that poor coat check girl had any idea.

“We both are. You can find a dress for that, too,” he smiled fondly. “In fact, what would you think of me getting you a new wardrobe when you move in? Your style, your choice on everything. You name it.”

You raised an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty washing over you. “Is there something wrong with my current wardrobe?” You hadn’t done anything to deserve a whole new set of clothes and you hoped he wasn’t suggesting it to mold you more to his liking.

“Nothing wrong with it at all. You have great taste and I just want to spoil you,” he said, running a finger down your side. This was the man who let you go into his exclusive club wearing a dressed down outfit simply because it was you, so he’d probably let you get away with any sort of wardrobe you wanted. “Do you know how ravishing you look right now?”

“I’m not ravishing. I’m in my work clothes,” you muttered.

“You are ravishing,” he said, moving his finger back up as you shivered. “We should get some stargazer lilies for your first night in our home. I could strip you down, lay you out on our bed, and brush one of the petals along your skin.”

You inhaled sharply and closed your eyes, trying not to picture him spreading you out on a luxurious bed. He would say something like that when he was right in your space and you had nowhere to go. The man went from zero to sixty in seconds. No doubt he could feel you tremble and knew your heart was racing.

“Bet it’ll feel soft against your nipples,” he whispered, exhaling against your ear. “And your pussy.”

Your next breath was shallow, but you managed not to whimper. “Where are we going shopping?” You asked evenly, hoping to get to the destination sooner rather than later.

You stubbornly kept your eyes shut when he chuckled. “You’re changing the topic because you’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Worried you’ll get your panties soaked before we get to the shop?” He questioned, your heart thudding. You didn’t want to think about it at all. You wanted out of the car so you could properly breathe again. “I’m sorry. I’m not playing nice, am I? We’re going to one of your favorite stores and you can pick out whatever you want.”

You’d no doubt look at the price tags out of habit since you shopped on a budget and bought your nicer pieces on sale. “Do you ever really play nice?” You asked, opening your eyes. “One moment you’re being vulnerable and talking about your family and the next time I see you you’re talking about sleeping with me. I’m shocked the whiplash hasn’t scrambled my brain.”

The image of him destroying the utensil at lunch like it was nothing flashed in your mind for some reason. And him and his gang beating up John. Just how strong was he? Was he a killer?

“Sometimes we’ll talk about something tough or serious and the next it may be something more fun or intimate. That’s part of being in a relationship,” he said. If only it were an authentic relationship. “I want that with you, telling you what’s on my mind and how I feel.”

If he cared about what was on your mind or how you felt, he’d back off and let you have a bit of space. “Relationships are built on mutual respect and trust,” you said. Did he not see that the mutual respect wasn't there since he pushed for things to be his way? And trust was something he couldn't force no matter how powerful he was.

“I understand that. You also said a first date was getting to know each other and seeing if there's a mutual connection. I'm opening up to you, letting you get to know me. I’m getting to know you, too, beyond the things I knew in advance,” he said. What was he learning about you that he didn’t already know? “And you can't tell me you don't feel something for me.”

“Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear, Bucky? That I want you and want to be with you?” You asked. Even if you did develop feelings for him, it would have to be classified as some form of stockholm syndrome. And even then, strong feelings wouldn’t be enough. He wanted everything from you. “That I don’t want anyone else?”

The hand along your side crept up to your neck, tension heightening when he gently squeezed. He loved putting his hand around your throat. “You do want me, you do want to be with me, you’ll never want anyone else once I have you and I know you love how much I want you,” he spoke with confidence, like he could make the words come true as you took your next breath. “Should I check your panties before we go inside and feel how wet they are?”

You needed to distract him. Fight him. Do something. “What’s your love language?” You blurted out. “Physical Touch?”

“What?” He whispered, your heart still pounding when he slowly moved his hand away from your throat.

“Your love language. You constantly touch me when I’m close to you, so I guessed Physical Touch,” you explained. He always had a hand on you.

He sat back with a pensive look. “No one has ever asked me that.”

“Oh,” you said as the car rolled to a stop. You blindly reached for the door handle. “Well, it’s something to think about if you don’t know.”

He held your arm when you tried to get out. “You express yourself through Acts of Service with loving gestures and helping with tasks, but what you crave is Quality Time because you value meaningful interactions and connecting with people on a more personal level.”

You nodded slowly. It was why you loved hanging out with your girlfriends. You cherished making memories with them.

“You also appreciate Words of Affirmation, even if compliments make you feel uncertain because you sometimes feel overlooked. The combination of those languages makes you feel seen and heard,” he continued, giving you a tender smile. “I can hear and see you if you let me.”

You found yourself unable to speak as he gauged your reaction, your throat tight as if gripped by an unseen force. He nailed it right on the head about your love languages, didn't he? “I need air,” you whispered, letting yourself out of the car once he let you go.

The tightness in your throat moved to your heart. Bucky saw and heard you in his own way, didn't he? Not just as a passing thought but because he genuinely believed he loved you, deeply and wholeheartedly. The more he sank his fangs in, the more venom he injected. You had to be your own antidote.

With a shake of your head, you glanced up at the shop. True to his word, it was one you loved. Another piece of yourself that would now be tied to him.

You jumped when Bucky appeared beside you and took your arm. “You okay?” He asked, studying your face with gentle eyes.

“Just fine,” you replied, smiling for his sake. “Let's go shopping.”

You walked into the boutique together, the air filled with a subtle mix of lavender and something sweet that made you feel right at home. The space was a blend of trendy and rustic, exuding charm and intimacy. Clothes lined the wooden shelves and vintage racks, showcasing a variety of styles that ranged from casual to bold. Delicate accessories sparkled in the soft light, inviting you to explore.

You could easily find the perfect dress for the winery here.

“Hello! Welcome to… Oh! Mr. Barnes,” the associate smiled, her heels clicking on the floor. She was a picture perfect example of style and beauty. “I have the back dressing room set up and I’ll be sure no one disturbs you or your girlfriend. It was sundresses you requested, correct?”

Bucky looked proud of himself. “Yes, the perfect sundress for my girl,” he smiled, his blue eyes sparkling as he looked at you. “And whatever dress you choose, you’ll need jewelry. Oh, and a clutch.”

“Girlfriend?” You asked. He must not have wanted a repeat of how the hostess treated the two of you at lunch. “Wait, you already have dresses selected for me to try on?”

“He called and gave us all the details. And we’ll make sure you have everything you need,” the associate promised as Bucky nudged you ahead of him to follow her. Was anyone else in the shop? “Would either of you like a water?”

“No thank you,” you said. You were never offered a water when you shopped there before, but you were never there with Bucky Barnes.

“Just let me know if you need anything at all,” she smiled, opening the dressing room door.

Bucky thanked her as he took a seat in one of the chairs across from the door, watching you expectantly. “If you don't like any of them, we can go somewhere else.”

“I’m sure they're fine,” you said, going into the room and shutting the door before he could say anything else.

Quickly slipping off your shoes, pants, and top, you turned your attention to a small rack with a range of sundresses. Checking each tag as you pushed through them, none of them on sale, it wasn't a surprise that they were all your size. And all something you'd consider wearing. After flipping through the dresses twice, you decided to try on a sleeveless white dress with small rosebuds. It would be nice for a vineyard.

Before you could put the dress on, the door opened. “Need any help?” Bucky asked as you spun around in your bra and underwear, his eyes slowly scanning your body before you had a chance to cover yourself.

“No. I…” you trailed off as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

He stared at you for what felt like an eternity before he breathed your name, want written all over his face. The dressing room felt small. Hot. You could hardly breathe as panic threatened to overwhelm you. And you couldn't do anything but step back as he stepped closer, a predator ready to capture his prey.

Your back hit the mirror when he brought a hand to your chin, your knees shaking as he leaned in. “You’re right about one thing,” he said in a husky tone. “I do crave Physical Touch. Yours.”

He pressed his lips to yours, keeping you still and giving you no chance to turn your head away. It was a light, feathering sort of kiss before his tongue flicked out to trace your lips. He teased you until you opened up for him and allowed his tongue to sweep into your mouth. You couldn't think as he groaned and continued his claim. It was only a matter of time until he claimed you completely.

Bucky pulled away a little, his free hand moving down your torso in a possessive path. “Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he rasped. You felt so small, your insides both frozen and melting from his touch. “Just wanna take you home and make you ride my face before I fuck you.”

You gasped when his knee moved between your legs, your hands flying up to hold his arms. He rocked his leg and you felt power in the motion, a promise of what was to come once he had you where he wanted you. “Bucky,” you whispered. The next word out of your mouth was smothered by his lips, but he didn't increase the urgency in his kisses. He took his time. Like the world could be burning around you and he’d let the flames take over as long as he was kissing you.

You bit back a whimper when he rocked his knee harder, the friction sending heat to your core. Another roll of his body and you were certain you felt the outline of his cock. Bringing a hand to his chest, you lightly pushed. It was already going too far. To your surprise, he broke the kiss. His eyes were still hungry though. “You said you want to hear me?” You asked breathlessly, your lip trembling when his thumb brushed it. “Then not here, please,” you whispered, praying he'd stop.

If he was going to have you, it wouldn't be in a dressing room.

“Right. Not for our first time.” He tipped his head back as he took a breath, no doubt trying to control himself. “Just one more kiss, Kotyonok. One more for me to dream about tonight,” he groaned, bringing his face back to yours for one more kiss with fervor. Just when you thought it would turn more ravenous, he shifted to something soft, tender. A feeling that had both of you shaking when it ended, but likely for different reasons.

You stayed upright when he stepped back and gave you space, but your legs still shook as he straightened up his clothes and looked you over once more. If he could devour you with a look... “Thank you.” He actually listened to you and didn't push it any further.

He glanced down as he adjusted his pants and you tried to avoid looking at the tent he began to sport. Horror filled you when your gaze went lower to the wet spot by his knee. He hadn't gotten you off, but you both knew he sparked some arousal within you. “Can’t wait ‘til you really make a mess on my pants,” he smirked, walking out just as quietly as he entered the tiny room.

Fighting back tears once he shut the door, you touched your lips. Bucky finally kissed you. Your mouth still tingled. You still felt him there.

Glancing at the rack of dresses, you wished he really was a sweet boyfriend trying to spoil you just because he could. But he hadn't given you a chance to pick them out yourself. He spoke for you, like you were a doll. It was just another piece he put in place for his twisted puzzle of your relationship.

What was wrong with you?

You pulled your clothes back on and flung the door open so hard it almost hit the wall. Bucky’s smug look immediately changed to concern when you walked out holding a sundress. “This one's fine,” you said in a flat tone.

“Are you sure?” He asked, sitting up more in his chair. “You didn't try it on, did you?”

“It’s the one I want,” you said, calling for the associate before Bucky had a chance to argue. You gave her a stiff smile when she joined you and handed over the garment, feeling Bucky’s eyes on you. “Whatever jewelry and handbag you think will go with this, I’ll take it. I trust your judgment.”

“Oh, this dress is lovely and we have the perfect accessories for this. Would you like to look at shoes as well? Or maybe something to go with any of the other dresses?” She asked, her eyes wide as you brushed past her. “Miss?”

“I’m sorry. I need to step outside,” you said, not wanting to be rude to her.

Bucky called after you, but you ignored him. You were furious with yourself. You let him kiss you and allowed some of his words to get under your skin. He didn't fuck you, but he still won, didn't he? And you were letting him. Just like with everything else.

You took two steps out of the shop before you felt a grip on your arm. “Woah. Slow down,” Bucky said, turning you to face him. “What’s wrong?”

Everything.

“It doesn't matter, but if you really want to see and hear me, please, pay attention,” you said, yanking your arm away. “I want to go home.”

“Why? Is it because that kiss meant something to you and you don't want to admit it?” He asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “If you're embarrassed that it made you wet, don't be. I'm flattered. Besides, it got me hard.”

Heat filled your cheeks and you wanted to smack him. There was a fine line between the delusion he had in his head and the reality of the situation. The tightrope you were walking was close to snapping. “I’m not embarrassed. I can't breathe.” You stepped back, trying to give yourself space. Was Ray watching from the car? “Everything in my life recently has revolved around you or you being there. Say what you want about me being lonely, it doesn't give you an excuse to take over.”

Bucky’s smile slipped, like he was really seeing how bothered you were. “I told you I just want to love you. And you enjoy Quality Time.”

“Quality Time when we agree upon it. And love itself should be the thing to take my breath away, not you smothering me,” you gently stated.

“I’m not trying to smother you.” He shifted like he was the one uncomfortable, his gaze flicking to the ground. “I… I know you can't breathe,” he said, lifting a hand as if to reach out before he dropped it and took a deep breath. “That’s why I'm leaving you alone tomorrow,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You're what?” You asked in disbelief, catching the hint of vulnerability in his eyes as his shoulders dropped. He hadn't left you alone since he broke in. Why in the world would he stop now?

“I was going to bring it up when I dropped you off.” His hand worked its way through his hair. “I’ve been thinking about it and talking and… I’m smothering you. I know I am. Rearranging your schedule, making you meet my friends, and everything else. So…” He reached for you this time and took your hand. “I’m giving you a breather and I’m not going to be around tomorrow. No surprise visits. No calls. Maybe a text, but nothing more.”

You blinked. “So, we won't see each other tomorrow?” You tried not to get too excited. It was only a day, but between that and the girls day that was still something. You had to go the cautiously optimistic route again and take what you got.

But you also couldn't help but wonder why he was really giving you that space. Did Ray or someone say something to him? Was this another ploy to keep you in line?

“You won't see me. God knows I’ll miss you, but it's just a day, right?” He squeezed your hand. “Maybe you’ll miss me, too.”

“I appreciate you giving me that space,” you said sincerely. He needed that space, too, even if he didn't believe it. “And maybe I will.”

“We won't have to miss each other much longer once we're together in the penthouse,” he said, his tone soft and your heart sinking. “Will you answer one thing: Did that kiss mean something to you?”

You didn't want to answer that. If you denied it, it would be a lie or he’d either see through it or snap. If you confirmed it, it would feed him more hope. You still had to examine your feelings because you were afraid and you couldn't think with him staring at you with those longing eyes.

“It meant something,” you answered, not expanding on what exactly it meant when he exhaled. It wasn't smart to let him decipher it how he wished because he could use it against you later.

He took your breath away once more when he pulled you close and brushed his lips against yours. Just as quickly as he started, he stopped and brushed his nose against yours. Any passerby would think it was a sweet moment between a couple making up from an argument. “Thank you,” he whispered, his thumb moving along the racing pulse in your wrist. “Come back inside, please? Pick out a few things for real and then I’ll take you home so you can relax.”

You remembered that the bugs were still in your apartment, which took some more of your enthusiasm away. But if Bucky was really going to leave you alone tomorrow, you’d have to appreciate the time to yourself. Maybe you could pack a bag and get out of the city even sooner than planned.

It wouldn't hurt to try, right? What was the worst that could happen? Making him freak out over your safety? That could be bad.

“Okay. A few things for real and then home,” you agreed.

“That’s my girl.” He turned and paused at the door with a smile. “Can I at least help you try on the dress? Or you can model it for me and I'll tell you how beautiful you are.”

You smiled back a little. “Don't push your luck,” you said, missing the pair of blue eyes that watched you and Bucky go back into the shop.

So, a little bit of action. 😏 Will it be enough to tide Bucky over? Is he really going to leave you alone for a day? Who was watching you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[wcnderlnds]

i don't mind | peter maximoff

・❥・ summary: you're hungover and peter tries to take care of you in his own peter way ・❥・word count: 1.1k ・❥・warnings: alochol mentions, painkillers mention, maybe some swearing. ・❥・ authors note: bless my bestie @ldydeath for giving me the idea. she always comin' in clutch to help your girl. first peter fic in a week, i missed writing him (i say this as if its been a thousand years lmao)😭

Parties at the mansion were few and far between but when they did happen they were some of the wildest parties to ever take place. There was always too much alcohol involved causing people to either make the worst decisions. Like the time Scott thought the alcohol suddenly cured him (egged on by a snickering Peter) so he took off his glasses and blew a hole right through the wall into Professor Xavier’s office. Or the time Peter had convinced Kurt that he had a shot with Kitty so he went to try and make a move on her only to end up phasing through her and falling flat on his precious little face. Peter always seemed to be at the centre of everything because - thanks to his mutation - it took a lot for the alcohol to affect him so nine out of ten times he was usually always the most sober in the room. It wasn’t by choice because he definitely would be partaking in drunk shenanigans if he could. Instead, he just encouraged everyone else. That was Peter down to a tee – a bad influence but with his charm and wit he could always get away with it.

Last night’s party had taken its toll on you. That was completely Jean’s fault. She had dared you to do at least eight shots of Fireball in five minutes to catch up. You’d been late to the party due to finishing up one of your assignments for Logan’s class so she had insisted you catch up quickly. So, with the one brain cell you had left, you decided that was a great idea. It, in fact, was not. Once they hit, you were completely smashed, only worsened by the other drinks you kept finding in your hand through the night. To be honest, you weren’t even sure how you made it to your own bed but judging by the silver jacket wrapped around you, you guessed Peter had something to do with it.

Peter was your best friend, your best pal, the only person you would trust with your entire heart. Of course he was the one that had gotten you safely back to your room. Not that the others wouldn’t have but you knew he would have insisted it was him. Due to growing up with his mom and sisters, Peter always made sure the women in his life were taken care of. He would do anything for them and for you. He knew the kind of shitty things women had to deal with especially when it came to alcohol and being around other people so he just had to be the one to make sure you were safe. It always put his mind to rest. Not that his mind was ever really at rest. Trying to figure out what the hell was going on in Peter Maximoff’s brain at any given time was the world’s most unsolvable puzzle. Over the years you’d learn to never question him. It was best to go along with him – only calling him out when he said or did something utterly stupid which could be often.

With a groan, you rolled over, refusing to open your eyes just yet. Your head was already pounding with the massive hangover you were suffering with. The last thing you wanted was to be blinded by light. Instead, you snuggled into Peter’s jacket. His lingering scent making you smile. It was comforting to know that you always had him around to look after you even if he could be a pain in the ass.

“Wakey wakey, sleepyhead,” Peter’s voice rang out as he dashed into the room with a glass of water and painkillers in his hand. He placed them down on your bedside table opting to prod your cheek to try and wake you up. “Come oooooon. You can’t just bury yourself into my jacket like a hamster. I mean, I’m gonna need that back. Kind of my favourite jacket. Honestly, you should feel special that I even left it on your drunk ass. For all I know you could’ve puked all over it but that’s just the risk I take for our friendship, babe.”

“Peter? Shutup,” you sat up, finally opening your eyes to come face to face with your obnoxiously smiling best friend. “You talk too much.”

“Hey, the Prof said that to me this morning, too. Common consensus, huh? You should be used to it by now.” Without a care in the world, he jumped on the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him as he rested his head against the headboard, his hands behind his head. No shocker to anyone that he’d made himself at home without even asking. “Or is that pesky little hangover making you a big ol’ grumpy pants today?”

“I really hate the fact you don’t have to suffer like this.” Throwing the pills into your mouth, you swallowed them down with the water, settling back into bed. In a dramatic show of grumpiness, you threw your arm over your eyes to block any and all light out. “Wish I had the powers of transferring feelings so you could experience this torture.”

Peter laughed. If this was any other day, you’d probably be elated at the sound. You knew it was wrong to have a crush on your best friend but how could you not? With how he took care of you and always seemed so attentive to how you felt, it was hard not to fall in love with the silly speedster. Without even seeing it, you knew he was watching you with that fond, concerned expression on his face. It was confirmed when he gently pulled your arm from your eyes, sliding his hand into yours and lacing your fingers together. It was a simple gesture but it brought a smile to your face.

“Just to clarify, me holding your hand doesn’t, like, mean anything. Not in that way. I mean… unless you want it to. That’s cool. I don’t mind. Just trying to be here for my very hungover friendorino,” Peter rambled, his soft eyes still gazing at you. He really did have the most expressive eyes. It was impressive how he could express a simple emotion by just looking at you. 

Snuggling into him, you brought your joined hands around you so he was holding you instead and laid your head on his chest. If he could get comfy then you could too. “Let’s just lay here for the rest of the day and we can unpack that statement later but… for the record, I don’t mind either.”

taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @ldydeath @jazz-berry @lemoniiiiiii @honeymoon8 @bohnerrific69 @lacucarachapisser @evanpetersbf

[genyawritesshizz]

Promotion - Sentinel Prime X Reader

Spending your days endlessly mining energon you yearned to one day be promoted. To finally free yourself from the frame aching work of the mines. Yet when you catch the optics of the Sentinel Prime, that promotion may come at a terrible cost, maybe you should have read the fine print.

Tbh it’s very little plot mostly just smut.

Written in bullet points, may go back to further flesh out in more detail but for now it will remain in this format

IVE NEVER WRITTEN FOR TRANSFORMERS NOR HAVE I READ MUCH FIC OF IT BUT I TRIED TO GET THE TERMS RIGHT BUT YA KNOW, ITS A LOT.

Possible part 2, we’ll see how this does.

WARNING: Dubious consent, emotional manipulation, Power Imbalance, (TBH Sentinel is a walking red flag), Sexual Coercion, Size kink, SMUT, Cybertronian reader,

This is essentially just robot porn I'm sorry to all my anime followers :(

The first time Sentinel Prime had set his optics on you he knew, much to his initial disgust, he wanted you. 

A miner. 

Of all the femme’s at his disposal the one that at last managed to catch his gaze was a cogless, bottom level, miner. 

“That thing?” With a snarled lip and multiple sets of trailing skeptical eyes, Airachnid's own revulsion was evident. Far down below the balcony on which they stood, walking the bustling city streets you at last returned to his hungry gaze. 

“Unfortunately so.”

Primus, what an honor it was to be within the presence of Cybertrons protector, the bot who single handedly protected all Cybertronians from the Quintessons; Sentinel Prime. 

After being approached by Arachnid and ordered to follow her you had initially feared you had broken an unknown protocol, resulting in a demotion. Yet much to your shock within the gold columned building you had been led to he was there.

The look of pure admiration within your optics as you stared up to him in awe coupled with the now quiet whir of your internal fans as your spark raced within his mere presence fed his already raging primal desire.

Such blind naivety.

"Walk with me. I’d like to discuss something important." His tone was warm but carried a weight of authority. One you could not help but blindly follow. 

The two of you stroll through the empty corridors, arachnid standing guard just outside of its entrance.

“Tell me, have you always felt bound to the mines? Or have you ever imagined something greater for yourself?" You shift, pace faltering a smidge, taken aback by his directness. You're proud of your work as a miner but can’t deny that you’ve thought about rising above this level.

"The mines are… Well, they’re home. I have my friends down there. But I’ve always wanted to do more…to make a real difference for Cybertron." 

Sentinel nods, his optics narrowing slightly. Searing blue scanned from the top of your dull paint chipped helm to your transfixed gaze, (noting how you subconsciously averted it away from him when noticing his search), down to your chin.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, signaling his satisfaction in finding whatever he had hunted for. 

Vulnerability suited you well.

"I could see that. You carry yourself with a strength that is rare, even among the most seasoned warriors." 

His confident stride deviates him closer to you and he lowers his voice just a touch. 

"Cybertron needs warriors with your spirit. And not just in the mines. In places where real change can be forged." 

His words spark something in you. Your gaze sharpened, instantly locking with his, the once thick humility gives way to a flicker of pride. 

‘Is he going to promote me?’ You hopefully thought. You had been working your frame down to the wire for the last few rotations in hopes of this.

Sentinel picks up the change in demeanor immediately. Before continuing his sweet talk, he comes to a complete stop and turns towards you.

His frame is significantly larger than yours, as to be expected when comparing a cogless to a Prime.

Though, the way he truly towered over you left you feeling far weaker than usual as he had to bend down significantly to reach optic level with you.

"Too often, talents like yours go overlooked down there. Others might not see it, but I do. Imagine if you were to rise up, to stand among those who shape Cybertron’s future. Those who ensure our planet’s place as the greatest in the galaxy." With each passing word he had leaned closer, faceplate now mere centimeters from yours.

Your spark fluttered. 

His venting flowed deliciously warm against your intake.

Proximity feedback signals fired on high and energon lines pumped furiously fast. 

Yet despite your system's shock at his actions, you could not look nor move away.

“You really think… I could be that?”

A set of servos planted themself around your lower chassis, their span long enough to completely wrap around you. 

Your servers struggled to process exactly what was happening, focusing solely on the swirling lights of blue that threatened to swallow you whole.

“I know you can.”

The digits ensnaring your waist tightened, pulling you flush against his wide frame. 

His helm delved lower, denta lightly nipping at the sensitive wires between the spaces of your minimal plating. 

The second you beeped in surprise then melted into his embrace, helm craning to the side allowing him further access, he knew once again. 

You were not going anywhere. 

But then again, why would you want to?

When your protector was so kind enough to show you, a nobody, such special affection. 

Never had you anticipated that you would ever find yourself within a Primes personal suite yet here you were. Sprawled out atop a luxurious berth, hidden away from the rest of Iacon city, with desires you had never even thought to dream of coming true.

Your gracious leader's frame was reduced to a hunched, yet still ever imposing, form as he kneels between your legs. Your modesty paneling had long since been retracted, revealing your array to his hungry gaze, and allowing you to relish in all the new sensations your Prime was bestowing upon you.

No, in all your cycles you had never found the desire to fragbond with someone. Yet now as Sentinel Prime’s silver glossa ravenously glides through the throbbing mesh of your valve and mouthpiece occasionally latching onto your external node you cannot believe your hesitancy for such pleasures. 

To think you had gone for so long without.

Not to worry, never again shall you ever have to suffer such a fate.

It is extremely out of character for Sentinel to give his partner's pleasure this way or in any way/to care about it. 

Normally he wastes no time in pleasuring others, he was a busy man after all. Instead focusing solely on his own release within others bodies then disposing of them.

But something about having you pinned beneath one of his arms, the other easily reaching over your head to hold your wrists down, the way you cried out for him, your Prime, and to be completely at his mercy…It has his spike twitching beneath his own paneling.

Savagely he feasts upon your now swollen valve, thick glossa entering your spasming opening, nose buried atop your external node.

“M-my, oh Primus! - My Prime I-” You were completely unfamiliar with the feeling boiling inside you, it felt as though a coil was winding. Each intrusion of his glossa only pulled it tighter.

“That’s right, say my name.” A smug smirk tugged itself into the corners of his faceplate before he delved back where you so desperately wanted him. 

You looked and sounded both pathetic and desperate.

He loved it.

“Sentinel!”

Overloading into the mouth of said mech was absolutely euphoric.

Though despite your high, he was left utterly displeased to hear you leave off the Prime in your cry.

He had earned that title.

It was his name.

You would learn the error of your mistake soon.

He did not ask permission to continue. 

Standing up from his crouched position, the grip that once held you down now flipped you onto your chest plate and dragged you towards the edge of his berth, allowing your legs to dangle off the edge.

Even on the tips your pedes you would still not touch the golden floor beneath.

Positioning your aft up into an arch he at last retracted his paneling, allowing his spike to spring free. 

Central processor still short circuiting under the throws of overloading, you did not even notice the shift in position.

Once your intake had returned to normal your mind followed suit, catching up to the reality of what was happening.

Yet it was too late to protest as something sickeningly thick prodded at your valve's still quivering entrance.

It felt like far too much.

Trying to squirm away from it you're met with a dark chuckle and thick digits atop your shoulder, easily pulling you back down into position.

“Where do you think you're going? We're just getting started sweetspark”

The moment the head of his spike entered, you felt an immediate sense of dread wash over and a cold shiver through your struts. 

“Too big...” Your vocalizer had barely returned, causing the whine to sound utterly pitiful, drowned in static and served only to feed Sentinel's ego.

“Hm? What's that?” Leaning over your form, faceplate centimeters away from your audio receptors, steam rolled with his words; fogging over the heaving metal of your shoulder plates.

“Frag…You-You’re too big.”

“Oh, do you want me to stop?” His tone was high in pitch and laced with manipulation. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint your Prime now would you?” 

A strangled whimper and a shake of your head ‘no’ gave little confirmation to his taunt in ‘permitting’ him to keep going, not that he cared whichever direction your response led. 

Even if you wanted to stop, you had no power to break away from him.

A deep, dominating, chuckle bubbled within his chest plate. “I thought not. You’re serving me, a great honor really.”

It felt like being pried open, the way his spike speared into your clamping valve was utterly painful. 

Despite your cries you attempted to stay still as the gold winged Prime behind you continued to push further. 

Each half centimeter only served to strengthen the burn.

Halfway in you had closed your optics, denta plates gritted tightly shut. 

“Take it all, I know you can.”

The same four words that once filled you with hope now filled you with burning heat.

You will take what he is so graciously giving you. 

Finally, after what felt like eternity, his entire spike was successfully sheathed inside. 

Though this was just the beginning.

“So tight,” Your body was clamped around the intruder in a vise grip. Desperately begging for it to be removed. “So small.”

His pace was brutally fast. The servos on your shoulder and hip kept you from escaping or sliding too far away from his attack. 

Surprisingly, after a few klicks, the tight inner calipers of your valve slowly loosened. His spike, now slathered in a combination of fluids, began sliding without much resistance. 

At last, a few surges of pleasure coursed through your system. 

Soon both of you were grunting, occasionally moaning. Though your sounds far outnumbered his. 

Your servos clenched into the smooth bedding atop his berth, surely tearing the fabric though in this moment neither of you cared. However it was something he would be sure to punish you for later. 

“You're mine, little miner.” His hips pistoned faster, slamming against your aft, surely to leave you sore. “All Mine.”

In response all you could do was hold on tighter, moaning louder with each intense slam.

“I’ll. never. let. you. go.” Each word sent another wicked surge into your swollen valve.

Blind sighted by the throes of pleasure bordering on overstimulation his words simply did not translate in your faltering audio receptors.

Though he meant every bit of it.

Helm falling back and a loud moan echoing throughout the gold-plated room, his overload blazed hot through his system. Filling your already stuffed valve to the brim with his transfluid.

Fans whirling on high, neither of you moved from your conjoined position for a few klicks.

After he's regained his senses fully, he removes himself from your valve, being sure to marvel at his work of completely ruining your once virgin body with a devilish smirk. Admiring the way his bright blue transfluid seeped from your still clenching valve.

Though this will be far from the last time he sees you like this.

With wobbling arms, you attempted to rise, though as you began to lift yourself up a large palm pushed you back down.

"We're not done."

True to his word, you had earned a promotion.

Fitted with only the finest armor paneling and a fresh coat of paint you had earned yourself the pristine position of his pet.  

A position you held with utmost dignity, after all you were serving your Prime.

[slut4bill]

All For You - B.Kaulitz

𝜗𝜚 - bill kaulitz x fem!reader

𝜗𝜚 - horror

𝜗𝜚 - mentions of blood, murder, just gore in general

ღ - a/n: decided to try my hand at writing horror while I work on some smut fics...

"Baby" he cooed in your ear, putting on his sweet innocent facade as if he hadn't just brutally murdered your best friend right in front of your eyes. You felt sick to your stomach looking at the bloody scene in front of you, almost gagging when you saw what looked like a chunk of brain next to what used to be a head.

It wasn't always like this of course. When you first met him, he seemed like a sweet, decent guy, much different from the losers you were used to going out with, those men always used to getting praise for doing the bare minimum. Bill, however, would buy you gifts and shower you with love and affection, and in your eyes, he was the best boyfriend you had ever had. Perfect even. But of course, like all good things it had to come to an end, this whole 'perfect boyfriend' act becoming too good to be true. It started slow, as you noticed the way he started to become more protective of you but that was only natural right? He was just being a good boyfriend and it seemed like a sweet gesture. But then he started to get weirdly clingy, never leaving your side, always begging to spend every moment of every day with you which was a bit odd but hey you can't exactly say you hated the attention. Next came the small bit of obsession, it seemed normal at first just a few small mumbled I need yous or a random moment where he accidently blurted out something you swore you had never told him. And then came the killings, almost like a real life scream movie except the murders were never random, always someone you knew, someone you had just talked to the day before you saw their disfigured bloody body on the news. You were terrified when your boyfriend, the guy you loved so much, the guy who you swore would never hurt a fly, came crawling in through your bedroom window covered in blood with a toothy grin on his face as if he had just accomplished the greatest thing in the world. You were frozen in fear, eyes wide open as you tried to wrap your head around the sight in front of you. He trapped you in a warm embrace kissing all over your face assuring you that everything was fine and trying to convince you that all the people he killed had a reason to die.

Bullshit

You were shaken out of your thoughts by the feeling of lips pressing against your neck and the warmth of a pair of arms tightening around your waist. The only sounds filling the atmosphere were the soft clicks of Bills lips leaving your neck with a small 'tch' sound, not seeming to be stopping anytime soon. "Did you like my surprise?" he asked in a hushed tone breaking the silence. What? "What?" I ask more rhetorically than literally as tears brimmed at my waterline threatening to spill at any second. "Did you like my surprise?" he repeats again emphasizing every word this time. "I did this all for you baby, for us" he whispered in my ear as he continued trailing soft kisses down my neck. "Did I like it?" I laughed, "Did I fucking like it are you fucking insane you psycho piece of shit??" I yell as my voice shakes in anger, fear and shock. He looked down at me with a small hint of hurt in his eyes. "Don't yell love I was doing something nice for us" he frowns as if you getting upset about this was unnatural. you look up at him in disbelief. How is he failing to see what exactly is wrong about this? "How is this nice Bill you killed my best friend what is wrong with you-" you cut yourself off as your voice began to crack signaling that you were about to start crying. You sob looking at the lifeless being on the bathroom floor, the tiles already smeared with blood. "My best friend- h-how could you Bill" you asked in a hoarse voice, body still shaking from the breakdown you were having. He just hugged you tighter against his chest leaning down to kiss your cheek. We both stood in silence for a moment before he spoke up again. "She was trying to take you away from me I couldn't have that love you have to understand" he explained trying to reason with you. You were speechless and scared. More scared of your own feelings than the gruesome scene that had just unfolded in front of your eyes. Scared because despite everything he's done, what he just did, a part of you still loved him. And you couldn't bring yourself to push him away. "Let's go get you cleaned up, yeah baby?" he says referring to the small splatters of blood on your face and clothes sure to leave a stain later. You just nod still in shock and not able to properly speak as your mind tries to process everything that just happened. "Arms up" he hums as he lifts your shirt up over your head tossing it on the bloodied ground somewhere. He unclips your bra tossing it near the shirt and bends down to do the same with your jeans and underwear. He helps you step over the body and turns on the shower waiting for the water to heat up. Once it started to get warm, he carefully helped you in the bathtub squirting some shampoo in his hand and lathering it on your head, making sure not to get any in your eyes.

"I love you baby, I always will" he hummed in an affectionate voice, looking at you with nothing but genuine love in his eyes.

and you loved him too.

You were trapped in a living nightmare.

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 27 - Voiceless, “I have no mouth and I must scream”

I feel like I’ve been mean to Wind a lot heh, I feel bad for the little guy. It’s better than the three arrows I put in his chest in that other fic! ...Maybe, anyway.

Warnings: redeads

Ao3 link

————————————————————

Wind was not happy.

He struggled and kicked, tried to squirm out of the bruising hold on his arms, went limp and tried to just give the two soldiers dragging him along some underground passageway as worse of a time as possible. They’d already taken his weapons and only held him tighter as he struggled, but Wind kept it up anyway.

One of the Yiga grumbled in annoyance as Wind kicked at his legs, and he felt a glint of satisfaction.

“Rotten kid, that attitude will die plenty quick where you’re going,” the other Yiga snapped, ignoring Wind’s attempts to bite him. “This cell was for the hero, but what better way to lure him there than to dump his little brother in it first?”

“You built a cell underneath the outskirts of a village? Wow, that’s normal well-adjusted behavior,” Wind huffed, and one Yiga sneered.

“We merely adapted it for our purposes. And you’re the perfect person to test it out.”

Wind finally managed to clamp his jaws down on one of the soldier’s hands, and he yelled, gloves not thick enough to really protect him. The other one snatched at Wind and put a dagger to his throat before he could press his attack, and Wind reluctantly released the hand, getting the message.

“Link’ll never fall for your stupid trap anyway,” Wind said with a glare, and the Yiga both chuckled.

“Oh yes he will. Have fun, kid.”

A door was opened, and Wind was tossed through without any sort of fanfare, stumbling as he landed. He whirled back around to the door, but it was already closed and firmly locked.

Wind scowled at it, then turned to look around his prison, mind already turning towards thoughts of escape. Who did these Yiga guys think they were, kidnapping him off the street? He was the Hero of Winds! How had they even gotten the drop on him?

Wind scowled again and kicked at the floor of the cell. At least he’d been walking around with Four and Wild. Surely one of them would notice he was missing soon. And if not, well, Wind was pretty good at getting out of tight spots if he did say so himself.

No problem.

Wind put his hands on his hips, looking around the dark cell. There was a single tiny torch hung up on the wall, too high for Wind to reach that lit up the skinny space. A stone wall stood at the far end of the cell, but the two sides were open bars, darkness yawning beyond them.

It... kinda made his skin crawl.

Wind crossed his arms, feeling cold all of a sudden, but he shrugged it off with a huff. He needed to figure out how to get out of here, creepy darkness or not. The deep shadows beyond the bars suggested a bigger area, so if he could just find a loose one, he’d be set. Maybe he could even climb up and grab the torch.

Wind walked over to a side, starting at one end and giving each bar a solid shake. They seemed pretty firmly in the ground, but Wind worked his way across anyway, hoping for a loose one. He got all the way through without a single loose bar, and sighed, crossing to the other side to try there instead.

He’d gotten about halfway when he heard something, creaky and quiet.

Wind froze, listening, and the hair on the back of his neck went up as he heard it again. That noise was familiar. He couldn’t place it, but he knew it was familiar.

And that it was bad news.

A low moan came from somewhere in the darkness, and Wind slowly began to back away, nerves all alight. If he could just see he wouldn’t be nearly as nervous. Maybe the darkness was just freaking him out, and he was imagining noises because of that?

A bloodcurdling scream rang out, and Wind’s eyes went huge as a familiar sensation wracked through him, deathly cold and terrifying.

Oh no, he thought in a panic, his feet frozen to the floor, body unable to turn away from the shambling footsteps he could hear. Oh no oh no oh—

A face appeared in the flickering light of the torch, decaying and horrible, eyes glowing. A rotten hand stretched forward and wrapped around the bars, and Wind stared at the Redead, trapped in its unnatural terror.

It didn’t look like his version of them, taller, with a few ragged clothes on its lanky body, but the feeling it left him with was the same, sheer, unnatural terror.

I’ve got to get away, maybe by the door I’ll be far enough it won’t be able to—

A different scream rang out, sending another jolt through Wind’s chest, and he watched in horror as another redead grasped at the bars, reaching out to him, trying to pull him close. Beady eyes stared at him, glowing and malicious with hunger, and Wind might have whimpered if he could move his mouth.

He fought the paralysis as much as he could, but the moment it started to wear off, one of them screamed again, leaving Wind with no escape. More screams joined the first two, and Wind choked on his breath as a whole group of redeads shambled out of the darkness. Screams came near constantly from their lips as they grabbed at the bars and reached through, trying to get at him.

They can’t get through, they can’t get through they can’t hurt you, it’s just to scare you, Wind thought frantically, heart drumming in his chest. They don’t want you to escape that’s why they put them there you’re okay you’re okay you’re okay.

The screams just kept coming, endless and piercing and shooting Wind’s heart through with inescapable terror. He couldn’t even move to cover his ears, and he felt a terrified scream build in his own throat.

But it wouldn’t come out. Wind could only keep standing there, immobilized, tears trailing silently down his cheeks.

It felt like his heart was being encased in ice, frost shooting through his veins with every scream and grazing touch. More screams joined the agonizing chorus from behind him, and the terror felt like it would crush him, repeatedly crashing over him like a freezing wave.

Hands grabbed at him, nails grazing his skin. Wind couldn’t move, the torrential screams hammering at him, cracking him, filling him up with so much terror his mind couldn’t focus on anything else.

His world narrowed down to screams and beady eyes, Wind drowning in terror, eyes darting around wildly, mind screaming every time a hand grazed him.

If he could move he’d be curled up on the ground, but all he could do was stand here and sob in his mind as a deathly cold hand finally closed around his wrist.

Then a different noise rang out over the screams.

It was garbled in Wind’s ears, some sort of talking he couldn’t make out over the redeads’ shrieks. But suddenly music poured into the cell, cheery and bright, and the screaming stopped.

All of it.

Wind’s ears still rang with them, and the terror still pressed over him like a wet blanket, but there was finally silence, and the hand trying to drag Wind closer to the bars had stopped in its efforts, the redead’s mouth stuck open with its teeth bared.

Wind would’ve sobbed if he could move, and he heard footsteps and talking, his ears still ringing too much to make out. Strong arms pulled the hand off his wrist and cradled him to a chest, shouted something at the other sets of footsteps. The song trilled again, bright and warm, and though Wind still couldn’t do much as twitch his pinky, some of his panic eased as he felt a steady heartbeat against where his ear rested.

The others were here.

There must have been a trip out, but Wind missed most of it, still trapped in the lingering screams he could hear in his mind. Tears trickled steadily down his cheeks, and past the unnaturally sharp fear was a flicker of annoyance at crying so much.

But the terror mostly blotted it out.

Sunshine finally fell onto his face, warm and soft, and whoever was holding Wind lowered themselves to a knee. A face looked down at him, and Wind saw Twilight, eyes fearful.

“Hey Wind, you alright?” he asked, and Wind could only stare at him, heart pounding, terror still clenching like a talon around him. “Wind?”

“Is he okay?” someone else asked, and Twilight leaned back, Time and Wild’s faces both coming into view next.

“He’s not responding,” Twilight replied, and Time leaned in, studying Wind’s face with a worried look.

“Wind, can you hear me?” Time asked, setting a hand on his chest.

I can hear you fine, I just can’t move! Wind wanted to scream, but his mouth was still frozen shut. The only thing that he was still able to do was cry, apparently.

Time gently wiped his tears away, and if Wind wasn’t still so terrified, he was sure he’d be embarrassed. “Do we know how long he was down there?”

“An hour, hour and a half? No more than two based on when we started looking,” a voice Wind placed as Wild added anxiously. Oh good, he avoided the trap. “Is that bad?”

“It’s a long time to be around an attacking redead, no less dozens of them like he was,” Time replied, gently tilting Wind’s head around as he looked at it. “Usually the song fixes things, I have no idea why he’s still frozen like this.”

“Prolonged exposure I’d guess,” Four’s voice added, and Twilight’s hand combed gently through his hair. “It might just take him longer to break out of it. He’s so cold...”

“I still can’t believe we lost sight of him like that,” Wild said quietly, and a different hand touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Wind.”

Oh Wild, it’s not your fault, Wind thought, trying to look the champion in the eye and convey the sentiment. I’d tell you so if I could.

Some more footsteps pounded against the grass suddenly, and the amount of voices around Wind doubled, more faces leaning over to look at him, worried questions floating over his head. The other Links had obviously joined the group, and Wind struggled even harder against the paralysis making him nothing but deadweight. But he remained as frozen as ever, a scream still stuck in his throat, ice around his heart.

“Give him space, I’m pretty sure he’s aware of what’s going on and you all are crowding him,” Warriors’ voice chided, and the majority of heads pulled back from his view. The captain’s face appeared in his line of sight, full of worry. “Wind? Can you move anything? Even just something small?”

Wind started at his feet and worked his way upward this time, trying to move anything he could. Fear still thrummed through him, his body on high alert, tears tracking down his cheeks, but he finally managed to twitch his eyelids a little.

“Hey, there we go,” Warriors said with relief in his eyes. “Can you do it again?”

Wind focused, managing another twitch, and almost did a full blink when he tried again. Warriors’ face was still worried, but he looked encouraged by even the tiny movement.

“Here, let me see if this helps some more,” Time said then, and Twilight shifted Wind around in his arms so his head was a little more upright.

Time pulled out his ocarina, purplish blue in the sunshine, and he played the trilling song again, the one Wind finally recognized as the song of passing. Time played it through a couple times, magic falling over Wind like a beam of sunlight. He was surprised the time of day itself didn’t change, but maybe Time was stopping it from doing that somehow.

Suddenly the magic loosened something inside him, the icy terror cracking, thawing a little. Some feeling swept back into his body, and the scream that had been stuck in Wind’s throat this whole time suddenly burst out, loud and terrified.

Time immediately stopped playing, and Wind began to tremble as feeling slowly spread to the rest of him, his scream ending in a hiccup. It felt amazing to finally give voice to the horrible coldness in him, and Wind barely noticed when a thumb brushed along his cheek.

“Wind?” Time asked quietly, and Wind breathed in a shaking breath, firmly blinking tears out of his eyes.

“Th-thank, tha-ank y-you,” he managed get out in a miserable-sounding whimper.

Sighs of relief went up around him, and Time gave Wind a smile, even with the way Wind was shaking and still unable to stop the tears from escaping his eyes.

“You’re welcome Sailor,” Time replied, and brushed a few more of his tears away.

Wind managed a shaky smile back, then relaxed into Twilight’s arms, more and more of the ice in his chest melting away into bright sunshine.

[amazingmsme]

Special Delivery

AN: still catching up on tickletober & I just had to start with our favorite fish boy! Inspired by some headcanons I got a while ago with Hermes & Poseidon, & after 600 strike I think we all need this. Without further ado, here’s day 29’s fic!

Poseidon was dosing off on his throne when a familiar agitating voice startled him awake.

"Knock knock darling, I'm coming in," Hermes said, waltzing through the cave entrance to his lair like he owned the place. Poseidon leveled him with a glare.

"To what do I owe the displeasure?" he asked, propping his chin in his hands as he slumped forward. Hermes scoffed, taking a step back.

"Well excuse you, but I'm just doing my job!" he huffed as he dug through his satchel. "Special delivery," he held out a wax sealed envelope, yanking it back each time Poseidon tried to snatch it.

Hermes reeled back and tutted, shaking his head. "What's the magic word?"

Poseidon growled and snatched his wrist, yanking the paper from his hand. He yelped as he squeezed his wrist, trying to twist free to relieve the pressure.

"Okay ow, ow!" he complained, rubbing the soreness away.

"Oh shut up, I barely touched you. What is this, anyway?" Poseidon asked as he turned the black envelope over in his hands. It bore a crimson seal with three howling wolf heads. Great.

"A formal invitation down below. No rush, just whenever you get the chance to stop by," Hermes explained, sitting on the throne and making himself comfortable by throwing a leg over the arm of the chair. Poseidon sneered down at him.

"If my brother wants to speak to me, he can come up here himself. I'm not going back to that shit hole, I've got an ocean to run," he brushed him off.

"See, he knew you'd say that," Hermes mused. Poseidon rolled his eyes, yanking him up from his throne. Hermes giggled and held his hands up in surrender. "But he's completely swamped at the moment! Turns out sorting over 500 new souls is rather time consuming."

Poseidon couldn't help but smirk when hearing his brother's plight.

"I thought he'd appreciate the gift. He's always looking to expand his kingdom," he said thoughtfully, leaning back in the stone chair.

"Pft, yeah, good one," Hermes chuckled, nudging him in the ribs playfully. He didn't expect Poseidon to jerk away so violently, going completely stiff as he leveled him with a cold glare.

"Don't fucking touch me," he threatened through clenched teeth. Hermes gasped, a hand flying up to cover his delighted grin.

"What's this? Don't tell me the great, fearsome Poseidon is a little bit ti-"

"Don't you have more mail to deliver?" he cut him off, his tone harsh. Well, harsher.

"I think that is the rudest thing you've ever said to me," Hermes dramatically proclaimed, smirking when he Poseidon rolled his eyes. He could've sworn his lips twitched upwards, if only for a moment.

"It's not," he said matter of factly, leaning back in the throne. "Trust me."

"Do you just pride yourself in being an asshole?" he asked, his amusement only growing.

"Yes," he said without hesitation. Hermes tossed his head back with a shrill laugh. Poseidon winced away at the sound.

"You'll never be my favorite uncle with that kind of attitude," he taunted. Poseidon rolled his eyes.

"Yeah right, like Hades is so much better," he scoffed, but when Hermes didn't answer, he looked him up and down in shock. "Seriously? Ugh, whatever. I always knew you had bad tahahaste! I said dohohon't touch me!" he growled, reaching down where he felt Hermes scribbling his side. Only, there was nothing to grab.

"Whahahat the-"

"What's the problem?" he asked smugly, cocking his head. "I'm not touching you, am I?"

Poseidon didn't know what exactly he was doing, but he knew he was doing something. "Y-you lihittle shihihit! Stohop it right nohohow or I'll kihihill you!" he threatened. Hermes only laughed at him.

"Will you?" he taunted, flicking his wrist to shove Poseidon against the back of his throne. His arms were held down against the armrests, and he couldn't bring himself to stand no matter how hard he tried. "How exactly do you plan on going about it?" His casual tone was infuriating.

"You dohohon't wanna knohow," he choked through deep chuckles.

"Oh, so you're bluffing! Good to know!"

"I am nohohot! Lehet me gohoho now!" he demanded, but he sounded significantly less scary than he intended. The most he could do was arch his back and squirm.

"Thanks, but I'll pass. This is the most fun we've ever had together! Wouldn't you agree?" Hermes taunted, cocking his head to the side. He snapped his fingers, and it felt as though the sensations doubled. Poseidon yelled in frustration, tugging on the invisible bonds keeping him in place.

"Nohoho!" he snapped, muscles straining as he fought against the magic holding him there. If only he knew what exactly Hermes was doing, he could counter it. But that proved hard to do with the swirling, tingling sensation spreading over his skin.

"Pity. And here I thought we were finally bonding," he mused aloud, shaking his head solemnly. Then he added his hands, digging into his ribs.

Poseidon barked out a hearty laugh, trying to curl in on himself. "You wish! Noho wait!" He was lost to hysterics when Hermes began walking his fingers up his ribs.

"Still as stubborn as ever, huh? Don't worry, I can help with that!" Hermes chirped, happily squeezing down his sides.

"No! Dohohon't you dahahare!" he tried to sound intimidating, but wasn't very successful when every other word is filled with giggles.

"Oh, I dare," Hermes practically purred, skittering his fingers at a maddening pace. Poseidon grit his teeth together, determined to stop the free flowing mirth from escaping.

"You bahahastard! Lehet me go rihihight nohohohow!" " he demanded, muscles straining against the magic holding him still.

"Mmmm, I'd rather not. I'm pretty sure you'll kill me if I do that," Hermes pointed out with a giggle of his own. With another snap of his fingers, the tickling all but doubled, and Poseidon let out a desperate scream of laughter.

"I WIHIHILL IF YOU DOHOHON'T!" he held firm in his threats, even as he spiraled deeper into hysterics.

"Kill me if I do, kill me if I don't, there's no winning with you, is there?" he cried dramatically, tracing around his gills until he was a snorting, wheezing mess.

Poseidon couldn't bring himself to answer the probably rhetorical question, focusing all his efforts on breaking free from whatever spell or magic Hermes had placed on him.

Control slowly came back to his body as he twitched and squirmed, and if Hermes wasn't so distracted by his little power trip, he might have noticed the warning signs before it was too late.

He was scratching behind his ear fins and cooing about just how endearing he was like this when a hand suddenly yanked him back by the hair, throwing him to the side. Hermes yelped in shock and fear as he hit the ground, quickly standing up before Poseidon could do it again.

"Look, I'm sorry, but it was all in good fun, yeah? I promise, your secret's safe with me," he assured, trying to keep his nerves under wraps. Poseidon shot him a cold glare as he stood up from his throne.

"Like hell it is, you fuckin' blabber mouth."

"Okay, ouch! I'm not that bad!" he whined, shrieking when Poseidon took a step closer. He flew a little higher, just to stay out of reach. "Okay, maybe I got a little carried away, but I couldn't help myself! You know I'm a man of opportunity! I'm sure you would've done the same if you were me," he tried to justify.

Poseidon seemed to consider it for a moment before a sly smirk stretched across his face. Hermes felt his stomach sink as he realized the only exit was blocked.

"For once, I think you're right."

Oh he was so fucked. But it was worth it.

[th3-steambird]

Wishing upon a dying star

Wanderer angst (gn reader x Wanderer)

Warnings: Reader died, (?) Suicidal thoughts, doubt, overall angst.

Tw: Gn reader x wanderer, canon story, not proofread.

An: based on the song Love like you by Steven Universe 💕 I saw an edit of it on the Wanderer and thought it might fit ✨ This is my first work please be nice to me 🫣

I thought I might be bad

The Wanderer was by no means a ‘good’ person. Everyone who roamed teyvat, even he knew that. From his Fatui background to every part of his wooden heart and limbs tied with strings did he ever consider himself pure, nor innocent.

But now I’m sure that it’s true.

Sure, he had scorned the world for all its worth and cursed the lands he despised, but now, looking at you, if he thought previously he was a monster, he now realized he must be a demon.

And your an angel.

‘Cause I think your so good

Your smile, your laugh and every fleeting touch felt like a gift from the archons he never had believed in. You were the epitome of perfection- you were everything good in his godforsaken world, basically. Why you chose him, he’d never know.

And I’m nothing like you

He really wished he could be like you, he really did. He wished he had the courage to walk up to you and say he loves you. He wished he was brave enough to hold your hand and never let go. He wished that he felt worthy of your presence in his life. He wished for a lot ever since meeting you. But wishing never got him anywhere, did it?

Look at you go

Wishing really never got him anything

He wished that his creator had loved him, he wished his friend would stay with him forever, he wished the child would have lived the life he hadn’t.

He wished he could spend eternity with you.

“Ha. How stupid. I should have never…”

Never what? Met you? Loved you? Cared for you?

No.

He should have never wanted to be more than what he was to you.

A cold, heartless puppet. 

I just adore you

Yes, Wanderer adored you. Even as your skin turned colder and colder in his hands, you were still the most bright thing in his world. 

Your so kind. You wouldn’t leave him, right? 

Please don’t.

Because deep in his heart he knew this wasn’t his fourth betrayal.

A betrayal is when someone else stabs your back and hurts you.

No, this time it was his fault.

This was your first betrayal he supposed. 

And it would be your last.

I wish I knew

There he was again, wishing for something he didn’t deserve, how frivolous. Disgusting. Something he expected of himself.

What makes you think I’m so special

If Wanderer looked back, he’d ask you why you loved him. He wasn’t special. Everything he did was failure, failure, failure.

He failed his creator

He failed his companion

He failed his friend

Now he failed you.

Really, he cursed this world. If it wanted to take everything away from him, it might as well kill him.

Coward.

Cowardly world.

Cowardly him.

Disgusting world.

Disgusting him.

Perfect, beautiful you.

I suppose you deserved to leave him and this world.

You must be somewhere better.

With someone better.

His mind could no longer accept any other possibility.

So please let this puppet live his delusions.

Guys did I do good for my first fan fic? I don’t know if anyone will read it but oh well ✨ I tried.

Ps: send me requests please send me requests 😭

[thyln4gf]

Masterpiece

✞ You were well aware of his feelings towards you and your body, and he thought that he was aware too... But was he really?

✞ Word count - 1,2k

✞ I have synesthesia! Heres 5 songs that i associate with this fic - "masterpiece" - MIW, "cheers to goodbye" - Escape The Fate, "saviour II" - BVB, "the apparition" - Sleep Token, "killing me slowly" - Bad Wolves.

✞ Warnings - suggestions towards smut, mentions of alcohol consumption.

✞ Carlos Sainz jr. x reader

✞ Note 1 - my requests are open, and waiting to be used. Wink wink. Note 2 - this was done by request. I hope you enjoy<3

Carlos had always sworn that you were his deity of some sorts, this pretty gorgeous thing. And you presented him with the exact same... enthusiasm. Or, well, you tried. Hed always get ahead of you in the terms of charisma one could radiate, all while you were accusing him of cheating in this little game you two had established. Not really his fault though, isnt it? Just like he liked to tell you, anyone worthy of your presence could become the god of confidence - after all, he doesnt really think that anyone could pass on the opportunity of having you. He knew that he didnt.

Your relationship probably wasnt for everyone to understand (not like he wanted them to) - most viewed it as this weird back and forth of rather thirsty sarcasm, and it always reminded everyone of the fact that you both had a little too much confidence. And they have never seen what happens in private, either. It would blow their existences as whole away.

Speaking of which. You could feel what was coming exactly - you were both on your way home from dinner, or more like, he was driving you home. You were tipsy, and he was currently trying to multitask - he wishes that he could just give into you trying to charm your way into his pants already, but he wasnt exactly a passenger, like you were. So imagine - having to keep pushing you away, while also being very eager for something that you were trying to achieve. And, driving. How could he forget that.

By the time he had managed to get you into the apartment, you were all over him. A kiss here, a bite there. A gentle tug over there. He had an idea of what you were trying to do - but in reality, he had no idea of what was coming. And he would be lying if he said that the idea didnt excite him more than anything else in his life.

Carlos thought that youd be willing to speed the whole process up, judging by how desperate you seemed to be in the car. But you... You were taking your sweet time, murmuring the sweet words of praise into his ear. And it felt like a whole new world to him. He had always had half a mind of asking you to take the reins into your hands, but he couldnt. Not when he could see just how much you were enjoying his attention in that specific way.

But here you were, taking charge, like it was something that you were used to. Like it was something that youve done numerous times at this point - it all felt so natural, for both of you. Your fingertips slid across his cheeks, his jawline, his (now exposed) collarbones. They eventually grasped the collar of his shirt with such gentle intensity that he could almost feel himself falling straight onto his knees. But, this did not end here. You were proceeding with unbuttoning his shirt, one button after another. Doing it so ever so slowly. You traced the path of your fingers with the gentle kisses and carried on with the praise - the words almost felt like a prayer to him. Carlos could barely stand straight due to how dizzy he had become in such a short time, grabbing onto your waist to somewhat steady himself. You felt it too - and he figured it out the moment he got pushed into a wall. Holy... Shit...

He opened his mouth to say something else, but he got shut off by the lips that he had grown to love the most - yours. Your kisses always tasted so sweet, and he found himself wondering the same thing each and every time. Am i ever going to get tired of this? Probably not.

Before you both knew it, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his clothes making a trail to the shared bedroom. You have barely let him touch you, leave alone undress you in any way - besides letting him watch as you slowly peeled your shirt off a bit earlier. His whining can get... persuasive, per se.

While your hands rubbed along his thighs, your lips werent resting either - they were making their way towards the spot that showed his enthusiasm the most. He could feel just how much you appreciated him, and the feeling only got amplified with each and every kiss of yours. Once you finally bit into his thigh, he let out something that reminded you of a moan - if it was let go through ones throat in the form of a hiss. Not exactly used to you interacting with him like that, he was getting quite overwhelmed already.

You were teasing him - your tongue running across the thing, up to the tip, and then straight down again. You were savouring the feel of him, while trying to show him just how amazing he is. Usually, you wouldnt even think about it - his confidence would shy you away from any thoughts of the kind. But the alcohol has been buzzing in your brain for a few now, giving you the extra boost, that extra push you seemed to need. You had always joked that you need a few shots for confidence before getting intimate with him, but never acted upon the words due to them being, well, a mere joke. They seemed to be the truth, though.

And now you both couldnt really be happier.

If he wasnt so overwhelmed already, he surely would have let out a gasp or two - from his point of view, you looked stunning. Your face was prickled with a few tears. Those wet lips that pulled away from him just for long enough to whisper a few words his way. 'Youre so beautiful, baby' - these would probably be his favourite ones so far - and, weirdly enough, just like the ones that he liked to remind you of all the time. He could be mistaken, but it looked like you were trying to return the favour - and he wasnt complaining. After all... as long as he had the pleasure of having you in the sheets, he was yours to do as you please.

The teasing part wasnt over, though. Just as he was starting to inch closer to achieving the high, you pull away. A whine leaves his lips - but, once again, it gets silenced pretty quickly - the sight of you hovering over him manifests faster than his present consciousness can keep up, as you had just pushed him backwards, onto the bed. God. He could survive off of the sight of you alone, it kept him going. It kept him alive. You take his chin with your two fingers, steadying his face. He had never, ever seen you so beautiful. The feeling was mutual for you as well - he was starting to look more and more like a masterpiece, a canvas that you had painted with your own eyes, lips, and fingertips. Something that you wouldnt mind staring at for the rest of your eternity. You cant resist from making a comment about how purple fits him just as much as the colour red - and he cant resist the blush that creeps onto his cheeks. After all, you were his deity.

But now, it was his time to be worshipped and appreciated.

[luxcuriousao3]

Dove: A Zombie Ghost Story (Chapter Two)

Summary: He shuffled back some, giving her plenty of space. Enough that she could get out of her hiding spot and run away, if she wanted to. He would follow her again if she did, a hidden, monstrous protector. But he didn't want to hide. He wanted to be next to her, to have her ask him more questions, to not be alone, anymore… Word Count: 2129 Warnings: no smut this chapter (this fic is the slowest of burns y'all, strap in for a looooong ride), vague, brief references to unspecified abuse in the OC's backstory, semi-graphic violence, POV switches denoted by line breaks Notes: This is by far the shortest chapter in this fic as it currently stands. I am thinking of doing a double update today to make it up to the few of you who read this, whoever you are XD let me know if that is something y'all would like. AO3, Masterlist

Lelia woke up slowly, sore and confused. She wasn’t in the bed she shared with Andrew, back at the base, stealing precious hours of sleep in the time that he was gone, unable to relax when he was lying next to her. No, she was somewhere else, somewhere that smelled of damp earth and—rot?

Lelia opened her eyes, trying to figure out where she was—and then screamed at the nightmarish sight that greeted her.

Milky white eyes stared at her through a dirty, broken skull mask. The zombie’s jaw hung open, bloody, grey flesh peeled away from its sharp teeth and blackened gums, leaving them exposed threateningly. Lelia tried to back away, but she was cornered, stuck in a trap of her own making.

It was then that the events of last night came back to her, and she sucked in a breath as she realized the zombie in front of her, who was now groaning quietly as it—moved away from her? What?—was the same one from last night, the one that had scared off all the others that had left her stranded in a tree. The one that had almost seemed to understand her when she’d begged for help, and then for it to go away…

***

Ghost hadn’t left his little dove’s side all night, standing over her like her very own guard dog. The comparison would’ve bothered him, when he was human—but he was more beast than man, now, so he simply thought it was fitting.

The zombies he’d heard earlier had indeed caught his dove's delicious scent, but one deep, rumbling growl from him had scared them off when they’d gotten too close for comfort. He’d checked afterwards to make sure he hadn’t woken her, but the poor thing hadn’t so much as twitched. Her utter lack of survival instincts dumbfounded him. He had no idea how she’d made it this long. But he was oddly glad for it, even if it concerned him. The end of the world hadn’t taken her softness from her, and he knew it would have been just as intriguing to him when he was alive as it was now. Ghost had never had something soft in his life, and his undeath had stripped him of everything warm, too. She was both. It made him want to curl around her like a shield, and protect her from the horrors of the world. To keep that innocent spirit from breaking. And he could, now, in a way he wouldn't have been able to do before. Because he had no other purpose, anymore. She could give him one, and if only she’d let him stay, maybe she could give him some of that warmth and softness, too…

Hours later, he heard her begin to stir. He took another step back from her little hideout, but crouched down so she could see his face, his stiff knees creaking ominously. He knew it wasn’t exactly a comforting sight, but he hoped that she might be slightly less frightened if she recognized him from last night, the zombie that had saved her and then let her go, rather than thinking he was some random infected.

When she screamed bloody murder upon seeing him, though, he reevaluated. It had been quite a while since he’d seen his own reflection—maybe he looked even worse than he thought…

Ghost automatically raised his hands as if to show he wasn’t a threat. That only made her curl in on herself, though, like she was expecting him to lunge for her. Which, well, of course she was. He was a zombie. A flesh eating monster. And she smelled so good…

He grunted as he shook the thought out of his virus-laden brain. His little dove let out a small, terrified noise, burying her sweet face in her knees, so he stopped. He wished he could tell her that he wasn’t going to hurt her, but every noise or move he made only seemed to scare her further. How was he supposed to explain that he was different from the other walking corpses? That he wanted to protect her, not eat her?

He looked down at the dirt, and he had an idea. He clumsily swiped away the leaves and other debris, then began to drag his fingertips through the clean patch of dirt. He was trying to write a single word—safe—but as he went to draw the first letter, he realized he didn't know what it was.

The thought made him go still. How did he not know how to spell such a simple word? He was no genius, but he wasn’t a bloody idiot, either.

Ghost growled, frustrated and more than a little bit afraid. He didn’t want to admit what he knew to be true—that the virus had destroyed so much of his brain that he was now illiterate. It was maddening. It was terrifying. He’d already known he was just a shell of his former self, barely clinging to his humanity, and yet…

“Wh-why aren’t you trying to e-eat me?”

Ghost looked up so fast that his broken jaw wobbled precariously, almost looking like it was about to fall off. He reached up and tried to put it back into place, to seem just a tad more human, but it simply fell open again as soon as he let go, dangling uselessly. None of that mattered, though, because she was talking to him. For the first time since he’d been infected, he was having a conversation. He would have smiled if he could have, so bright that Johnny would’ve asked him who he was and what he’d done with the real Ghost.

Who’s Johnny?

Ghost didn't know the answer to that question, but he didn’t linger on the wisps of longing and grief that came with it, nearly giddy from his dove’s question. She looked like she didn’t truly expect him to understand her, let alone answer, but the fact that she’d asked at all was enough. This was his chance. He couldn’t fuck this up. He couldn’t.

He shuffled back some, giving her plenty of space. Enough that she could get out of her hiding spot and run away, if she wanted to. He would follow her again if she did, a hidden, monstrous protector. But he didn't want to hide. He wanted to be next to her, to have her ask him more questions, to not be alone, anymore…

He settled down onto the ground fully, and then stiffly patted the spot next to him, inviting her to come sit. He didn't expect her to, even if he hoped she would—he just wanted to show her that he wasn’t a mindless animal, nor a threat. He wished he had food to give her, or even just a blanket. Anything to prove that he came in peace, and that he was useful to have around.

***

“You… you want me to sit with you?”

Lelia could hardly believe the words coming from her mouth, or the sight in front of her. A zombie, staring at her rather than eating her, inviting her to come sit next to it. A zombie that bobbed its head at her question and let out a soft groan, like it was trying to say why yes, yes I do.

Lelia was officially insane.

“Are you going to eat me?”

She was crazy, and she was going even crazier for entertaining the notion that a walking corpse could understand her, could communicate with her. All the survivors on the base had said the infected ceased to be human the second they turned. The second they were bitten, in some of the more ruthless soldiers’ opinions.

She shivered at the memory. She didn't like soldiers. She didn’t trust them, not anymore. Not after what they’d done to her. And as she really looked at the zombie, she realized something terrible—he was one of them. Or he had been. It was all so confusing…

The zombie shook its head stiffly, broken, hanging jaw clacking as it jerked back and forth at the movement. It was incredibly disturbing. She looked away.

“I don’t know what to do,” she confessed in a whisper after a long moment, still not looking at the undead soldier. She didn't know why she was still talking to it. She should stop. She shouldn’t play into whatever delusion this was. But she couldn’t seem to control herself. “I don’t know how to survive out here. But I won’t go back. I won’t.”

The zombie made what could have been considered a questioning noise, if Lelia was insane. She turned to glare at its terrifying, rotting face and its black, bloody, ragged tactical gear.

“The military base,” she answered, like it had actually asked. Her narrowed eyes were haunted as she stared at it angrily, tears threatening to fall. “I know what evils you soldiers are capable of. And I won’t suffer them, not anymore. I’d rather be torn apart.”

The zombie groaned quietly, lowering its head, almost as if it was ashamed. Of what, she didn't know. Being military? Or its fellow soldiers’ cruelty? No. Lelia was just projecting. It was probably a groan of hunger.

She swallowed nervously at the thought, shifting like she was going to try and make a run for it, because she was. But the zombie’s gaze darted back up, and she froze. But when it didn’t move, she slowly began crawling out of her little tree hollow again, until she was standing over it’s crouched form, staring down into empty white eyes. Gathering her scraps of bravery, she turned her back on it and began walking away from it as quickly as she could, still too sore and tired to run like she wanted to.

She looked over her shoulder so many times during that first hour, she lost count. The zombie had followed her once already—what was to say he wouldn’t do it again?

That was, if it was even real. She had begun to convince herself it wasn’t, at least not this second time. It had to have been real last night, there was no other explanation as to how she was still alive. But today? There was just no way. It had seemed far too intelligent to be real, today. She’d practically had a conversation with it!

She shook her head, letting out a huff of disbelieving laughter. No. Last night had been an anomaly, a fluke, some sort of strange zombie infighting, maybe some territorial hierarchical dominance ritual…

Lelia was definitely losing it.

Finally, she felt confident enough that no zombie soldier, figment of her imagination or not, was following her, and she stopped bothering to check. She was on a mission to find… something. Something to eat, something to drink, somewhere safe and warm to rest. Just… something. Anything to help her live another day.

After several more hours, in which Lelia had truly begun to flag, fate took pity on her, and brought her to a run down cabin in the middle of the woods. She quickened her steps, stumbling through the door, desperate to get out of the cold.

She barely had a second to notice the infected waiting inside before it was upon her.

Lelia screamed, trying to get away, but the woman’s stumbling corpse held on tight, jaws snapping in her face. Lelia barely managed to keep it from biting her, using all her strength to hold it back. But her arms were already trembling, and with every second, the gnashing teeth were getting closer.

This is it, she thought, terrified. This is how I die.

Suddenly, the zombie was ripped off of her, and Lelia fell to the ground, watching with wide eyes as her zombie—the one she’d seen last night and hallucinated this morning—slammed the other against the wall, over and over again until it finally stopped moving. A dark patch of black blood stained the wood where its head had been after the undead soldier dropped it, and Lelia stared at it, dazed and confused.

Suddenly, she felt gloved hands on her body, quickly running up and down her limbs. She shrieked, kicking out as she tried to scramble away. Her foot connected with something hard, but it didn’t move. It just let out a familiar grunt and released her.

Lelia froze, her panic clearing enough to register her zombie standing over her, taking a step back as it let out a gurgling noise. It had touched her. It had killed the undead that was trying to eat her, and it had touched her. She’d felt it.

It wasn’t a hallucination. “You’re real,” she breathed, feeling dizzy at the realization. “You’re real, and you’re not eating me, and you’re— you’re protecting me. How? Why?”

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Pomegranate | Nikolai x F!Reader

Chapter 2

Your second meeting with Nikolai

cw: cw: dark fic, dubcon/noncon, reader is being trafficked, human trafficking, blow jobs, piv, abusive relationships, shower sex, he gives her alcohol to calm her down

Masterpost

You knew the drill this time. All your clothes taken off, this time folded, and left in a stack on the floor. The panties and bra he left you were still too small and were a light pink this time. He must have a collection somewhere, hopefully one he bought rather than gathered. The door beeped and unlocked. 

“Kotenok, come here,” He called down the hall from the living room. You hurried over, footsteps softened by the rugs he had laid everywhere. “Ahh, there you are. Prekrasnyy”

He was standing by the bar, shaking a cocktail, shirtless with his various tattoos on display. “Do you drink?”

“Not normally, Sir.” You stood next to the bar, hands at your side. He poured out the shaker into a glass and slid it over to you. 

“I don’t want you shaking as much tonight.” He gave you a pointed look till you picked up the glass and took a sip. It was fruity and strong, burning a bit as you swallowed.

“Thank you, Sir.” 

“Go wait for me on the couch.” He turned his back to grab another bottle off the shelf for his own drink. 

His house was always a bit cold, making your nipples hard and your skin pimple. Your feet were always cold since he never gave you shoes. A double edged sword considering how others had made you pace for hours wearing six inch and higher heels. 

You sat on the couch trying to seem sexy, back straight with your chest jutting out and a leg extended across the cushions. Just be an object, a pretty object for him to stick his fingers into. 

A hand gripped the back of your neck, not painfully but forcibly. He held you still as you gasped.

“Finish your drink, Kotenok.” He tilted your head back so your eyes were on him. You drank it down in three quick gulps, maintaining eye contact with him. You watched carefully for any sign of pleasure or approval but nothing came. “No more shaking, yes?”

You nodded and he let go of your neck. The liquor sloshed around in your stomach. He had a heavy pour that was clear. 

He sat down and motioned for you to come over. He guided you till your head was laying on his lap, face up towards the ceiling. He held your neck again, massaging the sides of it. He smelled like oud and musk and tobacco and gunpowder.

“You fuck anyone else today?” He asked, taking a sip from his own drink glass. 

“Yes, Sir.” Don’t shake, you screamed at yourself. “I cleaned myself before coming. I remembered how you like it.”

He gave you a pleased sigh,  “Good girl.”

You tensed up as he sat his drink down on your forehead. “Don’t spill.”

One of his thumbs forced its way into your mouth, his ring catching on your teeth. You dug your nails into your legs, transferring all your anxious energy to other parts of your body. Both your hands fit around his one, holding it gently while you sucked on his finger. Condensation from his glass dripped down onto your forehead. 

“Are you afraid of me, Kotenok?” He asked, pulling his finger from your mouth only to flick it against one of your nipples. You bit down on your tongue to stop yourself from flinching. 

“No, Sir.” His hand trailed down to rest on your stomach. You avoided looking at him, not wanting to see if he caught your lie. You were in his den, laying between his teeth, praying he wouldn’t clamp down. You knew enough about the men who paid Arno to know he was dangerous. Outside of these meetings he exchanged blood for gold. The security, the art, the liquor, the sheets all cost money. A lot of money. The tattoos were the same you saw on Russian mobsters. 

“Are you afraid of Arno?”

Yes. Arno was in charge of the club, of you, and the rest of the girls. He was the one who trapped you into debt, threatened your safety if you tried to flee. His threats weren’t empty. A couple months ago a girl got as far as Glasgow before being dragged back here. He gathered everyone into the main club room and broke her legs. You never saw her again. You imagine she went to one of the clients that paid extra to break their toys. 

Arno slapped you across the face once because he thought you gave him a dirty look. He rarely fucked any of his girls. His drug habit prevented him from getting hard so it was more to save himself embarrassment than a lack of desire. On good days he kept to himself in his office.

“Kotenok, answer my question.” His fingers flexed against your stomach, claws ready to come out and gut you. 

“Yes,” you said meekly. 

“He take the money I gave you?”

“No.” It was tucked away safely in the lining of your coat. You told no one about it. A hundred years ago the Romanov girls sewed jewels into their petticoats. It caused the bullets to ricochet around the room when they were killed. Pound notes wouldn’t protect you the same but the coat was yours. You slept in it most nights, a better blanket than you’d ever been given. 

“Good.” He patted your stomach. “He’s a fucking siklo.”

“What does that mean?” The question slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“He’s a pussy,” he chuckled. “You can tell him I said that. Might not work well for you if you do though.”

He took the glass off your head and downed it one gulp. He took your chin between two fingers and turned your head to his crotch. He stopped you from sliding off the couch to get between his legs. “Want you up here with me.”

It was an awkward angle as you rolled over onto your stomach. His hand rubbed circles on your ass as you undid his trousers. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you rubbed his cock through his boxers. His head was already tilted back, eyes closed. 

You wondered if you could bite his throat hard enough to kill before he could stop you. You took an anatomy class once, the vein was right up front, right? That’s where they always cut in movies. He’d kill you before he died or someone else would kill you afterwards. You could get a lick in before that. Get an ounce of flesh for revenge before he cracks your skull under his foot. 

He pinched your ass. You’d stopped moving.

“Sorry, Kolya.” You kissed his cock through the fabric. 

He hummed pleasantly, eyes still closed. You stroked him to half hardness before taking his tip into your mouth. You bobbed your head, sucking on his tip when you went up. He groaned softly, bucking his hips up as you took him deeper and deeper. His breath hitched when you licked his slit. He pinched your ass again when you took him out of your mouth completely, only to rub the spot apologetically when you took his balls into your mouth, stroking his length with your free hand. 

“Want to come in your mouth, Kotenok.” A hand tangled in your hair and pulled you upwards. You took him back into your mouth, lavishing your tongue around the head of his cock. His groaning turned to growls. He flooded your mouth with hot salt. He held your head still, lazily thrusting his twitching cock down your throat. 

When he moved his hand you finally pulled yourself off him and laid your head sideways on his thigh. 

His thumb tugged your lower lip down, opening your mouth for him to look inside. You stuck your tongue out, showing you swallowed him. 

“Did they feed you tonight?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

“No, sir. They didn’t.” 

He sighed, “Arno never takes care of his girls.”

He moved you off his lap and left. Your head was busy. You didn’t know what to think of him. He had been kind but you weren’t here because you wanted to be and he knew that. He knew Arno made money off your rape. He paid for it and presumably for the pleasure to do the same to other girls before you. You told yourself to remember that. No matter how nice he was to you, he was not a good man. He’d just as soon kill you as fuck you.

You sat up when he reentered the room, a plate in hand. A chicken breast and some roasted vegetables. Your mouth watered. Food at the club was protein bars and whatever snacks you could get your hands on. You didn’t remember the last time you ate meat. 

“Eat. You’ll need the energy.”

“Thank you.” You said, taking the plate as carefully as you could. Part of you was afraid he’d snatch it back before you could get one bite in. You ate slowly or so you thought.

“Hungry, Kotenok?” He chuckled.

“I’m sorry.” You rested your fork on the plate, face turning hot.

“Don’t be. You need to eat. Finish your meal.” He nodded at you.

You sat cross legged beside him, moaning as the juice from the chicken hit your tongue. He rubbed the back of your neck. There was a fascination in his eyes like he’d never seen someone eat before. 

“You don’t go hungry when you’re here, understood? I don’t want to hear your stomach growling when I’m trying to sleep.”

You nodded as you swallowed a mouth full of veggies. He wiped the corner of your mouth, “Good girl.”

When you finished eating he tucked you under his arm and turned on the news. His fingers played with the elastic of your panties. He leaned in to press his lips to your hairline, “Touch yourself. I want you wet for me.” 

You might have played it up, breathing heavy against his side as you played with your clit. Two fat, ringed fingers pushed their way into your mouth. You remembered his words from last week, “I don’t like liars.” You quieted down, sucking on his fingers obediently. His arm kept you pinned to him in a pseudo headlock. The hair of his arm tickled your face. You felt a pulse in your cunt, liquid heat pooling inside you. Last week’s lube was a courtesy, you understood that now. You rolled your hips a little, grinding against your hand. 

His cock was still out. You watched him grow larger and perk up under the curve of his stomach. Drool was seeping out around his fingers and dripping down your chin onto his leg. He hooked one of his fingers against the corner of your lips and pulled, letting a cascade of drool pour out with a chuckle.

“Want you to ride me, Kotenok.” He wiped his wet fingers on your stomach.

Straddling him on the couch was when you first became aware of how small you were to him. There was a burn in the muscles of your thighs. Your hips fit perfectly into his hands as he lowered you down on his cock. You held his shoulders tight, gasping and whining as each inch disappeared inside you. His eyes were dark, pupils blown out. It was a hungry look. Men often looked like they wanted to devour you, he was the first who might actually be able to do so. 

He let you take a moment as you sat flush with his hips. He rubbed your spine, murmuring in Russian against your cheek as he laid small kisses. He’d never kissed you before. You hadn’t moved yet and your thighs were shaking. You felt overstuffed, your pussy clenching around him as it adjusted. You let out a shuddered breath. 

He leaned back, arms stretched out across the back of the couch as you started to roll your hips. You tucked your head under his chin, riding his cock. Your ass smacking against his thighs. The head of his cock dragged against your walls and you couldn’t help but keen when his cock bumped against that spot inside you. 

“Yebat,” he groaned, a hand slapping against your ass. He suddenly gripped your hips and started thrusting up into you. “Pussy fucking made for me.”

You dug your nails into his shoulders, “Kolya…fuck…Kolya.”

Part of you hated how good his cock felt inside you. Hated that this is what you had to do to survive now. Hated how you shivered when his stubble rubbed against your cheek when he nipped at your earlobe. Hated how vulnerable you were yet you were moaning wantonly on his cock.

You slipped a hand between your legs to rub your clit, scissoring it between two fingers. His hot breath skated across your face,“Going to come on my cock again?”

“Yes, Kolya,” You cried. You hardly knew how to discern between pretend and actual pleasure anymore. What want really was. You did want to come but you’d rather be alone with a toy between your legs rather than riding the cock of a large Russian man. A large calloused hand gently pushed yours away and began to rub your clit with fervor. 

“Come.” He ordered. You melted in his hold, your teeth dragging against his chest. Your thighs gave out, collapsing you fully on his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm, muttering about how tight you were. “Going to fill you up, Kotenok.”

He grabbed your hair and pulled your head backwards, your chins touching. “Open your mouth,” he breathed. You did and he spit into it. You kept your eyes on him as you swallowed. He grunted loudly, cum filling any space left in your cunt. 

He slumped against the couch while you did the same against his chest. His heart was beating wildly under the hair and tattoos. 

He kept you on his cock, lighting his cigar as he went soft inside you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and laid your head under his chin. He smelled good. You tried to let yourself relax. He’d turned the news off at some point, letting the two of you sit in silence. He laughed softly. You glanced up and he was staring down at you.

“You’ve made a mistake.” You opened your mouth to apologize, confused as to what you could have done in this moment. “You’ve made me like you too much. Going to call you back every Tuesday. You’re a good cocksleeve.” 

He made you another drink and then another. Then fucked you on the floor doggy style. He fucked your throat again after turning on a football match. You started to lose track of what was happening when he pushed you down onto the floor again. Several hours later you were splayed out on the rug, cum dripping out of you and “Kolya” coming out like a mantra. He heaved you up and over his shoulder.

“Did I tire you?” He chuckled, smacking your ass. Your head rolled listlessly as he carried you upstairs. 

He wiped you clean with a warm wet rag before pulling the comforter over you. You drifted off quickly. His bed was soft and warm, much more comfortable than the cot you slept on in the club’s basement. A lot of men didn’t let you sleep in their bed. One even handcuffed you to the couch for the night so he could sleep without worry. You woke up an hour later with Kolya’s arm around your middle, his nose buried in your hair. He didn’t grumble when you got up to drink water or use the bathroom. Only beckoned you back to him, pulling the covers back over the two of you. 

At one point woke up to him pulling one of your legs over his hips, cock sliding between your folds. 

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “Want you like this.”

Exhaustion pulled you back under easily even with his hips hitting your ass and his hand groping your breast.  

You woke up alone in bed. No tea left for you on the side table. Through the bathroom door you heard the shower running. You dragged yourself out of bed and to the bathroom, knocking on the door.

“Come in!” He called. 

The bathroom was so full of steam you could barely make sense of where anything was. A wet hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you into the shower. He pinned you to the wall of the shower while kissing you sloppily. It felt intimate in a way you weren’t familiar with. He cradled your face while stealing the air from your lungs. His knee slid between your legs and you felt his cock on your thigh.

“Dobroye utro,” he purred.

“Good morning…?” You guessed his words. 

“You learn quickly,” He grinned. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, opening your mouth for his tongue to slide in. Kissing clients was not a regular occurrence, wanting to kiss them back never happened. Yet here you were, moaning softly as his tongue tangled with yours. He rolled one of your nipples between his fingers. “Want you again.”

He fucked you against the shower wall, your legs wrapped around his middle as he bucked into you. You were sure you’d cut open his back with your nails. He sucked a mark against the crook of your neck. He moaned when you tugged on his hair. He came on the tiles only to pin you to them again and rub your clit till you were jelly. 

“You’re shaking again.” He said, holding you by an arm around your waist as he cleaned you both up with a washcloth. 

“I’m hungry,” you answered, honestly.

“Let’s get breakfast, then, yes?”

He got you a plush robe to wear.. He padded around the kitchen in his boxers. From your place atop the counter you watched him make batter and pour a small amount into a pan. He was making you crepes. 

His phone started ringing and he sighed as he looked at the screen. 

“Go wait in the dining room for me, okay, Kotenok.” You nodded and left quickly, hearing him switch to Russian on the phone. He sounded upset and you wondered if you were going to actually get food before leaving. 

You sat to the right of the head chair, resting your chin on the table as you waited. You could hear him get loud every so often. 

“Eat up and I’ll call your car.” He laid a plate in front of you. Two crepes layered with strawberry jam and whipped cream. He was tense, you could tell by the way his hand held the plate. 

“Everything okay?” A dangerous question. It was none of your business. Nothing to concern yourself with. You added quickly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“No, you shouldn’t have.” He rested a hand between your shoulder blades, at the base of your neck. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. My Kotenok’s just worried about me, yes?”

You nodded, looking up through your lashes. Sweet as a lamb you could be. Don’t shake. Don’t shake.  You took his hand and kissed his rings, “Yes, Kolya.”

“Eat your food.”He ordered, sitting down beside you with a cup of espresso in hand. 

“Thank you, Kolya.”

The bottom of one crepe was burnt. You ate it without a word.

He walked you to the front door this time. Kissed your shoulder as he took the robe off. 

“For you,” he handed you another stack of hundred pound notes. Six this time. You held it close to your chest. 

He pushed your hair from your face and kissed your cheek. “See you next week.”

He shut the door behind you, locking you out. You put your clothes on as quickly as you could before shoving the notes into the lining of your coat with the rest. 

The car was idling outside. 

“Hurry up,” Abel snapped. He was one of several drivers Arno had on hand. He was also the meanest. Acted like he was dropping off and picking up girls from the lap of luxury instead of the equivalent of a haunted house.

You stayed quiet in the backseat. You’d forgotten one of your socks.

You were hurried into the back door. Men and other girls moving around chaotically..

Someone grabbed your upper arm and yanked you roughly into a side room.

“At least he hasn’t fucked up your face,” Marcus said, holding your chin and moving your head around roughly. Despite being the reason you were in this situation he was still aggressively possessive of you. Hands clenched in fists whenever he saw you head to a client’s. “Whatever you did, Arno’s pissed. Expected to see you with broken teeth when you got back. ” 

“I…I didn’t do anything. He said he wanted to see me again.” You didn’t know his actual name. Kolya had to have been a diminutive of something but you didn’t know enough Russian to guess. He ripped the letter from your hands. He had sealed it with wax. Funny honestly. Probably knew that every man in this building was itching to climb over another for an extra dollar. 

“Let’s find out for sure, then.”

He dragged you down the hall in a bruising grip. 

“Arno! The Fixer’s bitch is back!” He knocked on the office door.

“Marcus, stop!” You hissed. You didn’t want to be in a room with Arno during one of his bad moods especially not if Marcus was intent on making it worse. 

The door opened. Arno barely scraped six feet tall but he was thin with a square jaw and blue eyes that always seemed blown out. It was no secret he had a nasty coke habit. He always looked a little strung out, a little manic. 

“There she is. ” He hung onto the frame of the door, looking over you and Marcus. He always seemed surprised to see you, like he forgot he’d imprisoned you. He grabbed the front of your coat and pulled you into the office with Marcus at your heels. 

You were shoved onto the couch in the office. Marcus sitting next to you with an arm around your shoulders, holding you against him.

Arno sat on his desk, seething.

“You know what Nikolai said to me today?”

“I don’t know.” You answered meekly, wringing your hands in your lap.

“He’s fucking giving me orders now. Said you weren’t allowed to fuck anyone twenty four hours before going to visit him.” Arno let out an incredulous laugh and threw his hands into the air. 

“He didn’t say anything to me.” You tried to assure. You never rocked the boat, just held onto your oar and hoped your life preserver worked. Marcus grabbed your arm roughly, almost pulling you into his lap. 

“I don’t believe you. I think you’re trying to milk him for everything. You suck his cock extra good? He’s sweet on you now?” Marcus laughed and pulled on your cheek. “Maybe I’ll send you back to him with my cum dripping out of you. How do you like that?”

“I didn’t ask for that.” You pleaded, looking at Arno desperately for some relief from Marcus’s taunts.

“He’s fucking with me,” Arno sighed, rubbing his face harshly. “He’s fucking fucking with me!”

He angrily slapped the lamp off his desk, sending it shattering against the wall. You leaned back against the couch. You had to get out of this room. 

Marcus released you and leaned back on the couch. “Just don’t send her back. What’s the old cunt going to do?”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Marcus.” Arno glared. You bit your tongue to hold back a laugh. “You know I can’t do that. We need his money. That’s why he’s fucking with us. Probably doesn’t even like her that much.”

“Hear that? Don’t get attached.” Marcus pulled on your cheek again. “Nikolai will dump you in a ditch soon enough. Right, Arno?”

He stared at you, blinking slowly, his brow furrowing in anger. He must have forgotten you were there. His brain barely making connections with his own eyes. 

“Get her out of here, Marcus! What the fuck is she even doing here!” Marcus jumped up and pulled you with him. “She shouldn’t be hearing any of this!”

“Sorry. You know how these sluts are. Nosey cunts” He shoved you out of the office, growling close to your face, “Wait for me in my office.”

His ‘office’ was a storage closet with an old desk in it. The door was slammed in your face. He was going to punish you for his own humiliation.  

Through your coat you felt the notes. You would get out of here. You would be your best for Nikolai. He would keep paying you and you’d get out of here. Get on a plane and never be seen again. You were getting out.