#SPEAKING OF WOODY I LOVED HIM IN THIS

[juliets-roller-derby-awesomeness]

seriously the most smiley i've been watching an episode (and i've watched bollywood homicide)

sorry for not posting about it, but i loved the reveal at the end, and the one at the climax, and the one at the beginning

i just loved the (head the tail the) whole damn episode. i love despereaux so much, i love shawn fanboying, i love shawn and gus fighting, i love lassie being smug about shawn's downfall, this was all just such a feel-good lovely episode

[zackfairmutual]

gay ppl in my house

[woundedheartwithin]

A girl and her goat ❤️

[goaskangel]

nanami really loving you on valentine's day!

cw : aggresive, perv nanami, groping, dry humping, breeding(?), alcohol mention, yummy asfff

word count : 1.8k

you may have gone overboard with the cleaning. your apartment doesn’t look lived in, more like an IKEA showroom. it’s not like nanami’s an inspector, he’s your boyfriend. new though, you’re not very close and it’s only been a couple of months but he was manly enough to ask you to be his valentine, how could you resist!

he’s just so perfect, you daydream while flattening the creases of the couch’s pillow. golden and groomed blonde hair, ironed suits, old fashioned manners. how his voice goes softer when he’s speaking to you, his strong teeth and subtle smile only coming out for you. it feels like you’ve won a national prize every time you break his calm and collected attitude and manage to make his pale complex warm up. you dimmed the living room since you planned a casual movie-night with him, hopefully not too casual for him. 

god knows he’ll show up in his signature suit and sit up-right while you play a stupid rom-com. that would be kind of nice. finally all alone, together, on a comfy couch. you could crawl onto his lap, tug on his tie, lick on his collared neck. kiss him like you mean it, no fear of the public. 

you squint at your suddenly changed thoughts and get up with a sigh, knowing him, he might not make a move. but he’s only a man…?

you wait for the door’s bell. when it comes, you give yourself a few seconds and fix your hair before walking to the door. you can’t make it seem like you’d been waiting, that’d be ridiculous. suddenly your thoughts of changing your clothes because it’s a bit too chilly pass your mind when you see him. like lava streams in your blood, you warm up to a casual nanami. a pretty man dressed in a gray sweatshirt that painfully compliments his skin showed up timely to spend time with his girlfriend on valentine’s, you could faint!

“hello. picked up flowers on the way, these are for you.” he tilts the bouquet, your favorite, towards you gently, grinning warmly, making his eyes squint. you swear you could eat his face. 

“thank you, thank you!” you’re handed the flowers as he steps closer to you, pressing a delicate kiss to your forehead as you take them, inhaling the floral aroma mixed with his peppery and woody cologne.

“i love them, but you didn’t have to, really.”

“it’s valentine’s day and the least i could do.” same soft smile on his lips. 

you smile, too hard, at his gesture and move to the side to let him in. he kicks off his shoes as you quickly close and lock the front door, placing the flowers on the kitchen counter. 

“it’s not too hot in here, i hope.” 

“it’s just fine,” he offhandedly observes the room, an appreciation for what you’ve done to the place. he tugs at his sleeves and rolls them up, revealing strong forearms. jesus christ. you snap out of your gaze and rush to sit at the couch, a thick blanket and a couple of fluffy pillows decorated the comfy space. rich chocolate and drinks already set at the coffee-table, and his favorite desserts from a bakery? you pat at the spot next to you and hold back a giggle when he sits next to you. his black pants spreading neatly over his thighs, your eyes carefully wandering to the seam of the zipper, your mouth pooling. 

“here, get comfy.” you toss the large pull-over on the both of you, taking in the sight of him, shuffling closer to you and warming up to the blanket around him. 

“quite a fine home you’ve got, it’s extremely cozy.” he throws an arm over you. 

“i try. it’s not usually this… tidy.”

“what? you’re trying to impress me?” he teases. 

“it’s your first time over, i wanna make you feel good an’ comfy.” 

“well, it’s working.” he smooths his hand over your hot cheek, the metal of his ringed index finger brushing over you.

you spend the remaining time opening chocolate and bakery boxes, feeding each other and occasionally kissing while a movie plays in the background. you hope for any move during the time he’s with you, any move at all. maybe a lingering kiss. it’s so distracting the way the shadows of the dark room and light source from the tv brighten his sharp features. you’re leaning into his warm chest as his fingers graze over your exposed thighs, sipping the wine you bought that he surprisingly, and thankfully, really enjoyed. 

another scene of the characters just talking and spilling lore, he sets the half-full glass down and focuses on you. eyes on the screen but his palm has splayed to soothe and grope over your thigh. he notices your obedience, spreading your legs just by the tiniest bit. his slips his hand into your inner thigh and that’s where you roll your body slowly. 

his eyes are now on you, and your bodies mingled under the sheet as you watch the movie. mmm, thank god you wore thin shorts and a random t-shirt. you feel as his fingers graze over your thinly covered cunt, tips coming down to rub your clit. your gaze stays straight but you don’t focus, you’re unable too.

“c’mere,” nanami fixes your slouched posture so you sit with your back on his chest, your legs open and pliable for him to touch and grope at your body. 

“kento.” you mumble, dazed, when his hand slides underneath your damp panties to tease at your folds. 

“mhm, you’re so beautiful.” he sniffs at your hair as his other hand grips under your bra to hold and fondle your breast. the wine was really getting to you both. a sudden pulse at your lower back as he grinds gently into you, how tight had his pants gotten? 

finally, finally, he got his hands on you. even under a blanket, you look down to watch the fabric move in waves as he rubbed your most sensitive parts, the alcohol heightening your senses. skilled hands pacing gentle but greedy circles on your buds as you gripped the remote. you appreciate his sexual activity, it’s just so much more aggressive than you thought he ever could be. his sweet words and gestures all hid his intrusive and perverse actions.

“god, i need to feel you.” he highlights his eagerness with an extra squeeze. you pathetically push the blanket off the couch and with trembling hands, you move yourself to face him. he lays himself down as you sit on his lap. you moan quietly when you feel him against your soiled shorts, bucking your hips down to get more of the twitching sensation below his belt. humping the fat chub under his pants, you craved it more than anything.

“uh-huh, that’s good. baby, you’re so good to me. that’s it.” his hands hold a bruising grip on your hips as you grind slowly but firmly on his hard cock. 

“couldn’t stop thinking about this,” he groans when you rub your fat cunt directly on his tip, “this pretty body on mine, you’re so fucking hard to resist.” his cursing going right to your achy clit. you hop off and watch him violently take his belt off, switching your spots and filling the void between your legs with his hips. pulling his sweater off and tossing it as you do the same with your top. his pale skin so handsome and soft with his softer muscles and a layer of fat on his stomach from eating all his favorite breads. so sexy, you wrap your legs around his waist. you shake your head at the condom he pulls out from his pocket. 

“needa feel you, your cock in me, please. don’t want anything between us, kento, please please. it’s valentine’s, let me do this for you.” 

“perfect girl, you’re gonna kill me.” but he complies, gladly tossing the latex and pulling the confinements of his cock down. you whine at his contents. big and hard, the first time you’ve seen this part of him. you love it, he hasn’t even fucked you and you already love it, love him. 

you nod aggressively when he lines his chubby, weeping tip against your soppy pussy. letting it catch a few times as he rocks back and forth, the moves of his sexy hips making you throb. he fulfills his own fantasies of his raw cock on his beautiful girl’s wet cunt whilst she begs for him to fill her up and make her his. 

“you want it, sweetheart?”

“more than anything, yes yes yes.” 

“no protection, nothing protecting you? you sure, love? it’s risky.”

“don’t care. i’ll have your babies if you want to, if i have to – jus’ give it to me.” 

“mmm, babies, huh… you sure that’s not the wine talking?” sick, even if it wasn’t the lust from being slightly tipsy, he wouldn’t, couldn’t, stop himself.

you could cry with all the teasing he’s doing but you lose your breath when he pushes himself into your perfect, tight cunt. all his. he takes your limp and delicate upper frame to his advantage and undoes your bra. nanami rolls himself deeper into you as he watches your pretty tits bounce with every move. 

“so good, ken, thank you..!” as he presses himself into the depths of your cunt. you're unbelievably tight and so warm when he bottoms out as far as he can without really breaking you in. 

he’s slow, eager and certainly not collected as he usually is but he takes his time to fuck you. you’re so drunk on lust and sex that you just agree to whatever he says. his pretty girl wants to be all his? have his kids? marry him and be taken care of and fucked so good daily? you nod and babble to all of it. as he speeds up, his sloppy kisses and skilled tongue on your nipples slow and he concentrates on making you both come. the movie ended a while ago and the rooms filled with groans and moans, sloppy and slippery squelches and slaps. 

his kisses his thumb wet and massages little circles into your sensitive clit. you writhe at not only the delicious friction but how you tighten up again around his cock, stretching you out all over again. 

“close, i’m close. keep fucking me, kento, yes, mhm. yesyesyes..” you jump at the overwhelming, intense orgasm and milk out every single ribbon of creamy cum into you. growling and furrowing his dark brows as he creams directly at your cervix. 

“good, good girl.” he snaps through his teeth as he finishes inside you. smoothing his hand over your pelvis and under your naval. gasping and panting as you both collect yourselves. he sinks down to rub his sweating face into your neck, kissing you gently again as you pull and stroke his blonde locks. ending such a day with all his love! <3

happy valentine's day you FREAKS

masterlist

[kiyokowastaken]

A Piece Of Heaven.

James Sunderland x Female Reader.

Minors Don't Interact!!!

CW: fingering, overstimulating, p in v (no protection), hair pulling/tugging, blowjob, babying a middle aged, miserable man, dirty talk, OOC James, porn with plot, age gap (reader is in her early twenties while James is in his mid-thirties), tit sucking, creampie, dom!James, oral (male and female receiving and giving, face f*cking, James has a breeding kink.

Summary: After partnering up with James and Maria, you could see the dynamic between them. A beautiful blonde vixen flirting with a miserable and pathetic man in search of his supposedly dead wife. Feeling a bit jealous of the interaction between them, you decided to climb the roof of the hotel to watch whatever of the sky that you can but you’re interrupted by someone.

This isn’t revised so excuse any misspelling or grammar mistakes! I was also inspired by another amazing James Sunderland x Reader writer named sundrlands so check them out!!

Enjoy loves ^^!

The fucking fog.

How come in some areas it’s dense as fuck but now when you need the fog to be dense, it’s not. You saw the blonde haired woman named, Maria latching onto James’s arms as if she couldn’t hold her own. You knew that the male was far too awkward to say anything about it, so he merely just let it be. You looked around the area, it seemed not as rundown and ruined as the other places that you guys have encountered, you caught a glimpse of a flower shop and your interest was piqued to say the least.

You jogged over to the small shop as James was looking down at the map trying to figure out where the hotel was as Maria was merely talking his ear off. You were pleasantly surprised when the flowers looked to be alive, they were still blooming in such a terrible condition. Your fingertips reached out and graced the soft petals of a Lily, the beautiful flower slightly moved by your touch before it got covered by a shadow.

You turned around to see James, which caused you to take a few steps back. His cologne was faint yet lingered around him, he smelled like clean laundry with a hint of a musky yet woody scent, the kinda smell that when you hugged someone you would try and take another whiff, “Uh..I figured out the way to the hotel, we would get there in a couple of more minutes..” The blonde haired man would mumble.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as you looked back at the blossomed flower, “You speak as if I’m going to snap back at you.” James merely flushed a bit at your comment as it took him a moment to think about his next choice of words. He always seemed to do that, instead of other people who just spoke their minds without considering what others might say.

James was the opposite, it’s like he handcrafted his response for you, yet he still fell short, “I didn’t want to disturb you, you looked peaceful over here in your own world.” He hummed out as he looked down at the flowers before he reached out and tried to stroke the flower but it seemed that he lacked a certain softness to his touch.

The very Lily that you once caressed so tenderly and gently, lost a petal once James touched it. James seemed a little disheartened as the sad look on his face that he always had seemed a bit more sadder, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched it, it seems like whenever I touch things they always end u-..” You stopped James’s sad monologue as with a bit of confidence, you grabbed his hand with your own and gently moved over to a flower, a budding bushel of Heathers.

You guide his hand and with a gentle brush of both hands, the bushel waves gently before you pulled your hand away with a small smile as you turned to look at the taller male, “Don’t always be pessimistic James, you have a gentleness to you. You just need to be patient, now come on, Maria is waiting for you.” You said with a slight bitter tone that James seemed to catch before his soft yet gruff voice said, “You mean, us, she’s waiting for us.” To which, you merely nodded before walking back with James.

A few minutes turned to a hour and the sweet moment between you and James had seemed to dissipate into thin air. Maria was once again walking side by side with James, their hands occasionally brushed against each other more than they should. At one point, Maria mentioned how cold she was which caused James to pause before he tugged off his military jacket and held it out for her which she graciously took and slipped on. You, in the meanwhile just scoffed, how unbelievable. James was merely being a gentleman and gave the women his jacket, so she wouldn’t freeze to death and here you were acting like it was the worst betrayal of your life. I mean, it stung a bit, you asked James to borrow his jacket during a moment of rest since the room you guys were in was cold to which he merely just got up and went through the hassle of finding a semi-clean blanket and handing it to you.

You merely just looked around at whatever you could in the surrounding scenery as the fog began to slowly disappear. You looked back to see the hotel, it was small but it was near an embankment of water which gave it a nice appeal. You guys got closer and before you guys knew it, you guys separated off into your own rooms. James got the room in the middle while you and Maria got the right and left rooms next to his.

Once, James got his jacket back from Maria, you all settled into your own rooms for the night. It was a delightful surprise when the water still ran through the pipes of this hotel, it was clean water as well. You stripped out of your clothes and turned the warm water on as once your body stepped into the warmth, it melted away any stress that you had away. You guys had battled all sorts of weird ass monsters coming to this hotel, so this was refreshing to say the least. You cleaned off the grim, sweat, and the blood off your body before getting out and changing back into your clothes.

They were a bit dirty but nothing too bad, you then debated into taking a nap or just roaming around the hotel. You guys could probably stock up on whatever you needed to finish this fucked up adventure so without a second thought, you grasped the handle of the door opened it before stepping outside into the fresh night breeze. Silent Hill looked less scary when it was night, the fog almost seemed lifted and the surroundings were now noticeable.

You turned towards James’s door to see him talking with Maria as they both leaned against the iron railing. You squinted a bit and you found yourself a bit shocked to see a small smile on his face, you had more than enough seeing the two of them together so you turned on your heel and walked to the opposite side. You looked through the few rooms that were accessible and grabbed some bandages and couple of food supplies before you found a latter up to the roof of the hotel.

You shrugged before you grabbed ahold of the latter and started to climb your way up to the room. Once on top of the roof, you let out a deep sigh as the air felt fresher up here. The cold wind stung your warm skin and blew through your slightly damp hair before you found yourself sitting on top of the roof. It was comfortable, the concrete of the roof was smooth enough to not be uncomfortable as you laid back and looked up at the sky and for once in Silent Hill, you felt at peace.

You closed your eyes for a moment as the wind blew small strands of your hair away from your face, you slowly reopened your eyes and the moon was bathing everything in its moonlight, including yourself. You looked serene, downright ethereal to James as he finally found you, he was getting worried once he searched your room and every other room that you already ransacked and didn’t find you.

He took a deep breath air before releasing it as he could now be calm. A few minutes ago, he was talking to Maria, the woman was good company. She was cocky, confident, and a downright temptress but he had enough of those types of women in his younger years. The attention was nice but you caught his eye, he really shouldn’t even be considering anyone when he’s looking for his wife, yet you graced him with patience, a loving and gentle touch, and the way your eyes always seem to shine a bit more brighter whenever he talked to you made him feel..good. Mary, they had their arguments and yet, they loved each other but somewhere along the way the glimmer in her eyes and the way she looked at James, it no longer felt like home. Yet, here he was searching for her after three years of her supposed death.

James saw you staring up at the sky and found himself also in awe at how beautiful the stars shined. He then cleared his throat as he saw you perk up as if he had frightened you, “Sorry..I didn’t mean to scare you, I just got worried when I didn’t find you in your room.” He said softly, as he walked a bit more closer before he found himself sitting down a bit away from you as he didn’t want to invade your space. “Are you okay..? I mean, obviously we aren’t since we are stuck in this hellhole but you seem to become a bit more reserved.” James said as his eyes glanced at you before looking elsewhere.

A silence followed afterwards and it seemed to eat at James, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

You let out a huff as you turned your body to fully look at James, “Are you something with Maria?” You rebutted with a question of your own. James was stunned at the question as he felt a red flush settle at the tips of his ears as he shook his head, “Me and Maria..we are just uh..good acquaintances. That’s all..” He stumbled out as your eyes hyper focused at his small movements and gestures.

“Then..why don’t you act the same way with me? You found Maria and me at the same place, we have been traveling together for a while now and yet, it seems like..you dislike me.” You muttered out before peeling your eyes away from James. James didn’t mean to make you feel that type of way, he didn’t mean to make you feel isolated from your small little group. This place was already isolating as it is.

“I-..I’m sorry, it’s just that..well I find myself feeling some kind of way whenever I’m near you and I don’t want that to affect us, it’s difficult to explain.” You could see James in the corner of your vision, he was rubbing the back of his neck. A bubble of confidence or maybe the way the moonlight reflected on James’s eyes made him seem all the more pathetic. You patted your lap as you looked at him for a split moment, “We have all the time in the world right now, explain this feeling to me, please.”

James looked at your lap that you patted before looking up at you, he felt like if he gave in to you, he would betray Mary. He did all of this for her. He reprimanded himself for feeling a warm feeling whenever you guys even locked eyes for a split moment. Yet, a part of him craved comfort, he wished to be adored again. He wished soft hands cradled his worn and tired face and pressed soft kisses against it. Mary once did that before the damned illness took her.

He moved closer to you and placed his head on your plush thighs and closed his eyes.

Warmth.

That’s what you gave off, the scent of a sweet yet citrus scent clung onto you and your clothes. He tensed up when he felt your hands on him. One on his chest and the other one scratched his scalp and he battled to hold back a soft groan. Sinful. This was utterly sinful. He was still married to Mary, he loved his wife, yet why did he turn around and push his face onto your stomach as one of his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled him close.

“J-..James..!” You stuttered out as the touch to you was foreign. You had have past lovers and loved every single one but none of them made you feel the way James did. The older man, he made a part of you want to baby him..protect him and care for him. He could provide for himself yet to your mind that didn’t matter.

“You make me feel warm, you make me forget about Mary. It feels so wrong. I’m here for her..and yet, your arms have felt more like home than hers ever did..and I feel guilty for such thought.”

Those words that James muttered out against your stomach made your face burn unlike any other. You didn’t know how to respond as you felt him take a deep inhale and then exhale, he felt more relaxed..guess that was eating at him for a while now. Your hand merely slid from his chest towards his back and rubbed his back as she sighed.

“You don’t have to feel guilty James..I also feel the same, I just didn’t know that you felt like I did. You always seemed reserved towards me, so I just thought I made you uncomfortable for something like that.” You felt James shift before you removed your hands from him as he sat up. He was fairly close now. You could smell him just like you did in the flower shop.

“..As I stated before, I’m not uncomfortable with you. I will feel terrible if you got mixed up with someone like me, (Y/N). You’re kind, sweet, warm, patient, and just everything that I’m not. I still have this whole Mary thing to resolve. We still need to get out of here and..I’m a bit older than you. You’re barely enjoying yourself, I’m already past my prime.” James said with a soft chuckle leaving his lips. God, that chuckle..it felt like a drug. You wanted more of that.

“You should stop putting yourself down, you’re terrible at even finding a good thing about yourself, James. You have this softness in you, I can see it. It’s just hidden by troubles, nothing that a little patience and talking can’t undo and about the whole age thing. Do you really think I care? We have gone against unexplained beings and you think an age gap is what’s gonna scare me off?” You rebutted with an eye roll as James raised an eyebrow.

“Do you like your men older?”

The silence that followed was all consuming, you cleared your throat as you puffed up your chest a bit as you nodded, “Well, yes but not senile old.” This seemed to make James laugh as he turned his face away from you as his body shook with his laughter.

“So, do I fit into your criteria?” James asked as his normally reserved and cold demeanor changed slightly. It had a hint of flirtatiousness and genuine curiosity. “I mean, yeah, you do.” You said as you couldn’t help but notice him moving closer.

A sudden change in the air happened, it was noticeable. He hummed as he looked at your eyes and then down to your lips, he wanted to kiss them so badly. It was almost downright painful how much he craved to brush his lips against yours. You could feel his eyes, you almost felt naked in his stare. It felt like he was undressing you.

“Jam-..”

“Can I kiss you?”

Did you fall asleep on the roof of the hotel and now your mind was conjuring up some wet dream about the male you have been lusting over? No, this felt real. He felt real. The warmth he radiated was real. You could only nod before he leaned in close and looked into your eyes with his beautiful, enchanting blue-grey eyes, “I need you to say yes or no.”

You felt your heart beating quickly, he was close, his slow exhale of breath. You could feel it against your lips before you opened your mouth, “Yes..please.”James let out a soft and quick breathy laugh before he placed one of his hands on your neck and pulled you into the kiss. His other hand was placed on your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You couldn’t hide the slip of a soft whine tumble out of your lips.

Heavenly. That’s what James felt right now. If Silent Hill was his own personal hell then you must be his personal heaven. The hand that held your neck slowly slipped upwards towards your jaw as he held it. His tongue flicked against your bottom lip as to ask for entrance.

James acted different. This wasn’t the same man that seemed to dislike small talk or any time of human connection if it didn’t regard Mary. You might’ve unleashed a animal, a hidden side of him that you only caught glimpses at whenever he swung that metal pipe and aimed at those twisted creatures before pulling the trigger without hesitation. You opened your mouth, a tad bit but that was enough for James to slip his wet tongue into your mouth. Your arms that were once by your side slipped upwards to grasp at his faded, forest green military jacket as a anchor. Your own tongue shyly met his in a heated and sultry dance. The kiss that was supposed to be somewhat sweet became needy and sloppy.

He tilted his head to the side as his hand that was on your waist slipped down and underneath your shirt as his calloused and rough hands grasped your body as if to reassure himself that you weren’t going to slip away. That you weren’t a figment of his imagination. You were real.

The two pulled away from the kiss as a line of saliva was the only evidence of the hot and heavy kiss. James’s hand that was on your jaw slid upwards and wiped your bottom lip as the string of saliva was no longer there. The air was charged with sexual tension, it was no longer awkwardness and stepping on eggshells. It was filled with lust, need, and want.

“I need you..I want you but we don’t have to continue if you don’t want too.” James said between small soft pants as he tried to regain his steady breathing. Your eyes were hazy, in your mind, you only wanted him. You craved him. You have held back for a while and now the man that you craved, he craved you back.

“I need you as well, James Sunderland.”

Those words sealed your fate. Now, here you were, your shirt and light jacket thrown on the floor of James’s hotel room. Soft moans and pants filled the room as James left dark purplish red marks on your neck and collarbone. How you were going to explain these marks to Maria tomorrow, well, that was a problem for tomorrow. James was set on marking your skin up, claim it as his. To claim you and mark you as his woman.

His tongue licked and traced from your collarbone down the valley of your breasts. He placed a couple of sloppy kisses there as his mouth traveled to your right breast as he attached his lips around your harden bud. His tongue swirled around it as he started to suckle on your breast. His hand ran up your body and groped your left breast, his thumb and middle finger pinched and tugged on your nipple as one of your hands grasped the bedsheets and the other hand tried to muffle your moans and gasps.

Your body was soft, warm, and inviting to James. He felt like he was tainting you with all of his sinfulness, he didn’t want to damn you but at the same time. He grasped onto you as if you were his salvation and maybe, you were. His angel, his pretty girl..he wanted to leave you a beautiful mess. His teeth softly teased your nipple that was on his mouth before he pulled away with a lewd ‘pop’. Your expression was his favorite thing, yet he disliked you hiding your face.

“Don’t hide your face sweetheart, I want to see you for who you are, please.” He said as he locked eyes with yours as his mouth wrapped around your left nipple as his right hand slid up your body to tug and pinch your spit ridden nipple. He gave the same treatment to your left nipple until he felt satisfied with himself. After that, he left a couple more love marks on your chest just to make sure as pulled away from your shivering body.

“May I?” He said as he eyed your pants as you nodded as your hands slid down to unbutton and unzip your pants so that he didn’t need to struggle as much. His hands then grabbed the hem on your pants and panties before he tugged them down in one fluid motions. The need to cover your intimate area was strong as your hand slipped between your thighs to cover your slicked cunt. James found that cute, he dropped your pants and panties on the ground before his attention returned to you.

He grasped your waist and pulled you to the edge of the bed as he made you sit up as he got on his knees. He wanted to taste you, badly. He looked up at you for a sign of hesitation before you nodded once again in consent as his hands prided your thighs open. He felt himself salivate when he saw your cunt dripping for him, “All for me, pretty girl~?” He cooed as he looked up once more to see your flustered face. He chuckled as he began with pressing soft kisses on your inner thighs as he teased you with small nips to your thighs. He suckled a few marks on your inner thighs before he was face to face with your cunt.

He closed his eyes as his tongue slipped out and a wet stripe licked your slit. You instant let out a whine as your thighs tensed up, he kept your thighs apart using his hands which were wrapped around them. He prodded his wet muscle into your cunt as his nuzzled his face into your wet heat. His nose occasionally bumped against your clit as his tongue lapped at your juices as he eagerly tasted you like if you were an expensive wine. His tongue prodded your clenching entrance before he nuzzled his face more into your cunt as his tongue slipped into your clenching and unclenching entrance.

His slurping became downright pornographic as your hands left the crumpled up bedsheets and slipped into his dirty blonde locks. Your head fell back as your lips were in a ‘o’ shape as moans and whines of pleasure left them. You began to grind your cunt against his mouth as the way he slurped you like he was a hungered man was all too addictive. The way his nose bumped against your clit would send shivers down your spine as goosebumps riddled your body, “J-..James~!” You moaned his name loudly.

This made James prideful, he pulled away from your slicked cunt as leaned his head against your thighs as you guys once again locked eyes as he panted heavily. He looked downright fucking sinful, his hair a tousled mess in your hands, his face flushed red, his eyes glazed over with pure lust and admiration, and his lips along with his chin were smeared with a combination of his spit and your juices. “Use me to get off, c’mon baby girl, I’m only here for you.” He panted out.

Those words made your eyes roll to the back of your head as his lips wrapped around your clit. Fucking hell. He was so fucking good, you felt the coil in your stomach come to life. One of his hands left your thighs as they slipped down to your cunt, his index and pointer finger slipped into your cunt without much resistance. He angled them upwards and curled them in a ‘come here’ motion, you soon began to grind your cunt on his face like if he was merely a tool for your pleasure.

The coil began to slowly unravel as he continued to suckle on your clit as his fingers quickened in pace as he felt you clenching non-stop on his fingers. You pushed his face against your cunt with your hands as his unused hand gripped your thighs in a bruising hold before he pulled away as he heard a disappointed and pitiful whine leave your pretty lips. He panted heavily as his chest rose and fell quickly as he tried to regain all the air he needed. He fell back on his ass as his other hand that was on your thigh wiped his face clean from your wetness. “Not yet, pretty girl, you aren’t going to cum that easily.”

He said as before he stood up, he then began to strip. Once he was naked, he had scratch marks and cuts on his body. They had long scarred which meant he probably got them long ago, your eyes mapped out his entire body before your eyes found his cock. He was trimmed, neat which surprised you. He was a good six and a half inches, he was more length than girth. He had a pretty pink tip, that was currently leaking pre-cum as it seemed that eating you out worked him up.

You looked up at him as he walked towards you, you licked your lips as he loomed over you. He grabbed your chin as his thumb ran across your lip, “Will you be a good little girl and suck me off, ‘hm?” He asked as you merely dumbly nodded, “Then, what’re you waiting for?” He let go on your chin before as he grabbed your hair into a ponytail as your mouth opened to let him slide into your mouth.

Your mouth wrapped around his tip as your tongue licked his slit that was leaking pre-cum. You swirled your tongue around his head before you slowly took more into your mouth, you had a bit of a gagging reflex so little by little did you take his cock into your mouth. You felt the tip of his cock press against the back your throat which caused you to gag, your hands held onto his muscular thighs as your nails dug onto them. He was fully in your mouth, he could see that you were tense so, he gave you a bit of advice, “Relax..breathe through your nose. You will cause yourself to gag more if you try to breathe through your mouth.” He said as he felt you take his advice.

He then started to bob your head up and down his cock as he felt drool mixed with pre-cum coat his cock. He also heard a bit of it fall onto the floor beneath the both of you, he let soft groans out as his head lolled back in pleasure as the hold that he had on your hair tighten, “That’s it darling, you’re taking my cock so well…” He mumbled out as he slowly began to buck his hips into your mouth. As when he looked down at you, he saw your pretty mouth around his cock as those tear filled eyes looked at him.

“Fuck..if you look at me like that, I might just cum early, doll face.” He muttered through gritted teeth as he felt you hollow your cheeks to create more suction. He felt you become more comfortable as he placed his other hand on your head as he began to lightly thrust into your mouth. The lewd noises and the occasional gagging sound around his cock made him shiver. He felt the knot in his stomach slowly appear.

He quickened his pace a bit more as he almost lost himself when he felt you swallow around his cock. The way your throat tighten around his cock, it was fucking heaven sent. You were a fucking miracle. He began to just fully thrust into your mouth as you slacked your jaw, letting him fully fuck your mouth as groans and..a whimper left his mouth. Oh, this was heavenly, he made such a pretty noise that made you bob your head with his thrusting as you felt his cock throbbing into your mouth more frequently.

It was you that pulled away from his grasp as you coughed, your lips were swollen from the kissing and the sucking you were just doing. He let out a frustrated groan leave his lips as he felt his cock throbbing as his orgasm was so close. You inhaled and exhaled deeply as your chest heaved, “If I couldn’t get my..orgasm, then you can’t either..” You panted out as James merely glared at you before he nodded, it was only fair. He edged you close to your orgasm and you did the same.

He pushed you down on the bed as he towered over you as you guys scooted upwards onto the bed a bit more. James placed a pillow underneath you and moved you close to him, you wrapped your legs around his hips as he looked at you, “Uh..I don’t have a condom, are you sure?” James asked as his hands were on your hips as his thumbs wrapped smoothing circles on your skin. You bit your lip as you thought for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, it’s okay..I want to feel all of you.” You mumbled.

James nodded as he positioned himself before he slowly slipped inside you. You winced a bit at the penetration as it had a been awhile since you slept with someone. James gritted his teeth as he swore that he wasn’t about to cum right then and there. You were fucking tight, he huffed as the grip on your waist tighten as he slowly sank more of his length into your cunt. You, in the other hand, you felt filled. He thrusted fully into you as your toes curled as he let you get used to him and his size.

A few seconds passed before you rolled your hips and a soft moan left your lips, you looked at him and gave him a reassuring nod as he bottomed out before thrusting back into you. Your hands wrapped around his neck as your nails dug into his board shoulder, “F-..fuck, James..feels so fucking good~!” You whined out as James settled for a slow yet deep pace.

Skin on skin slapping could be heard throughput the room, the scent of sex lingered and consumed the air in the room as the bed squeezed with every deep thrust that James gave you. Your moans mingled with his groans as his hands ran up your body and groped your breasts as bounced every time that he thrusted into your squelching cunt. Lips messily found each other as both of you locked lips in a sloppy and lustful kiss. Passion and..love was found between the two of you. You guys fucked each other like if you were in your own honeymoon.

You guys complete forgot about the outside world and the cruel reality. You guys were completely focused on each other, saliva slicked lips found bare and naked skin to mark as James pace became more quick. Your nails ran down his back creating red irritated marks as he groaned, one of his hands slipped away from your breasts and down to your clit. He rubbed quick and tight circles as he felt you clench around him like a vice, trying to milk him for everything that he had, “f-..fucking hell, c’mon doll face, take my cock. After we are..out of here, I will make you my pretty wife and fuck a baby into you, yeah~?” James said rolled his hips into your cunt.

You nodded as you were feeling so fucking good, he was fucking you so good. “y..yeah, I wanna be your pretty wife..fuck a baby into me right now, please baby~!” You whined against his ear as he nodded. Both of you too drunk out of each other’s presences as the coil in your stomach grew too tight as he quicken the pace into a more quick and deep pace as his kissed your g-spot so fucking precisely and him rubbing your bundle of nerves didn’t help as you came around his cock without warning. You clenched around him tightly as he felt your walls spasm around his cock.

“Good girl..coming on cock so prettily, gonna make you a mommy, mhm, you want that baby girl, ‘hm~?” James said as he wrapped his unused arm around your waist and pulled you close to cold sweat covered body. You nodded dumbly as you felt overstimulated, the way he kept fucking you like a mere ragdoll, chasing his own orgasm made you clench around him. You bit down on his shoulder he as he continued to thrust into you as he felt his cock twitching more frequently, “Close..I’m gonna breed you, my sweet girl. Make you mine fully, come on, cum with me. Let’s cum together….” He muttered as his breathing was ragged.

His chest heaved quickly as his thumb started to swipe against your clit as his thrusts became animalistic in pace as he pounded into you. He groaned loudly into your shoulder as came deep into you. Filling your womb to the brim with his seed as you cried out as you came hard. He stopped swiping on your clit as both his arms held you close to him. He could feel himself twitching inside you. Fuck..you both were tired. He slowly pulled out of you with a wince as you merely groaned, you felt his sticky, warm seed drip out of your abused cunt.

James pulled you down onto the bed with him as he would clean this mess up later but right now, he wanted to relish in the afterglow. He pressed a kiss to your forehead as his hands rubbed your back as you nuzzled into his chest, “I will do everything I can to get us out of Silent Hill..I promise.” He muttered against your hair as you merely nodded as you were fair too tired to form any sentences. He soon felt your body go limp as you feel into a deep slumber.

This wasn’t about Mary anymore, he had to move on from her..he loved Mary but you loved him even if he was a broken man. You chose to embrace him and give yourself to him regardless of the darkness within himself.

You were his saint, his angel, his goddess..his little piece of heaven.

[ticifics]

𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐚

James Potter x f!reader

Summary: “Hey…” he murmurs, his voice laced with amusement. “Did you just wink at me?” Your face heats up instantly. “What? No! I just—” James moves closer, and before you can escape, his hands are already around you—warm, firm, secure. And then, he attacks. Kisses. A relentless succession of them.

Warnings: muggle au, est. relationship, fluffy, no use of y/n, james doing a kiss attack, shy!reader

The rain drums softly against the window, streaming down the glass in thin rivulets, distorting the view outside. The apartment is warm and lit by a discreet lamp, casting soft shadows over the furniture. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, your feet swinging in the air, your hands wrapped around your teacup, soaking in the warmth it offers. There’s something comforting about this silence, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall and the occasional rustle of the newspaper forgotten on the table.

And then, he speaks.

“Did you know that if you close both eyes, you can’t see anything?”

You blink, lifting your gaze from the tea and meeting his, blue and full of mischief behind the lenses of his glasses. James is leaning against the doorframe, a half-smile tugging at his lips, his black hair in perfect chaos over his forehead. He looks absolutely pleased with himself, as if he’s having fun at the expense of a secret you haven’t discovered yet.

“Of course,” you reply, arching an eyebrow. “Everyone knows that.”

“Ah, but if you close just one...” He leans slightly forward, “You can still see everything.”

The sentence hangs between you, and without thinking too much, you close one eye, testing the logic.

In the next second, you realize the mistake.

James lets out a low chuckle, and the glint in his eyes intensifies in a dangerous way. He pushes off the doorframe and advances slowly, his steps feline, his posture too relaxed to be innocent.

“Hey...” he murmurs, his voice laced with amusement. “Did you just wink at me?”

Your face heats up instantly.

“What? No! I just—”

But there’s no room for explanations.

James moves closer, and before you can escape, his hands are already around you—warm, firm, secure. One arm wraps around your waist, pulling you forward until your knees bump against the sides of his hips. The other slides up to your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your heated skin.

You smell him, that mix of woody soap and something purely James. And then, he attacks.

Kisses. A relentless succession of them.

First, one on the high point of your cheek. Then, another near the corner of your mouth, then another and another, until he traces an entire path across your flushed skin. You let out a weak protest, a breathless laugh escaping before you can contain it.

“Jamie—”

“No, no,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice slightly muffled. “This won’t go unnoticed.”

“I wasn’t flirting!”

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression absolutely delighted.

“Ah, so only I can flirt?”

You open your mouth, but he’s already smiling that impossible smile, the one that makes your heart stumble.

“Good to know,” he says, and then he’s back, nipping lightly at your flushed cheek before pressing a longer kiss there. You feel his lips curve against your skin.

Your chest tightens in a dizzying way, in a way you can’t quite describe.

It’s always like this.

James, whole, intense. He loves as if he doesn’t know how to love any other way. With everything he has, with everything he is.

You, on the other hand, feel small in the face of it. Not in a bad way. But because James lights up everything around him, and you’re not quite sure how you deserved so much.

The shyness still warms your face, but you don’t resist when he starts covering your face with kisses again, laughing between each one. Your hands slide into his black hair, your fingers digging in as he finally gives you a break, resting his forehead against yours.

He’s smiling against your skin, that smile you feel more than see, and his chest rises and falls in a rhythm that matches yours.

James sighs, dragging his nose lazily across your face before murmuring against your cheek, “Did you know I’m all yours?”

Your heart stumbles.

He doesn’t say it with the intention of being dramatic. James never says anything halfway, never loves halfway. The sentence slips from his lips with so much truth, so much certainty, that you feel your chest tighten. You feel something blooming inside you, something that’s always been there but now pulses with more strength.

Maybe it’s the fact that he always takes the initiative, always breaks down your barriers with that tireless, charming way of his.

And maybe, just maybe, you want to surprise him this time.

The idea takes shape before you can talk yourself out of it.

With a hesitant but determined movement, you lean in and press your lips to his cheek.

He freezes for a second, his blue eyes wide behind his glasses, his mouth slightly open as if he’s trying to formulate a sentence that never comes.

You almost pull back, almost shrink away from the sudden impulse, but then you see his expression. It’s rare to see him like this, speechless, without a ready response on the tip of his tongue.

Your chest warms.

So, before your courage disappears, you kiss him again.

With a touch of boldness—the most you can muster—you scatter a trail of kisses across his face, following the same path he traced on yours. The curve of his jaw, his chin, the spot just below his ear. Your shyness makes your skin burn, but something about seeing James so visibly affected encourages you.

And when you return to his cheek, nipping lightly, he lets out a low sound, a mix of a laugh and a sigh.

“You...” he stammers, looking absolutely amazed. “Did you just bite me?”

You nod, a little uncertain, and James... well, James melts.

Literally.

His body sags against yours, his arms tightening around your waist, and he hides his face in your neck, laughing as if you’ve just completely destroyed him.

“Ah, that’s not fair,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin. “I wasn’t prepared.”

You feel his smile there, his lips pressed against your neck, and before you know it, you’re smiling too.

“Now you know how I feel,” you whisper, and James lets out a dramatic groan, as if he’s been struck in the heart.

“No,” he says, lifting his face again. His hands slide back to your face, his eyes shining as if he’s just discovered something new and fascinating. “That was worse. You have no idea what you just did to me.”

“Jamie—”

Suddenly, and before you can react, he grabs your cheeks firmly. The gentle pressure pushes them together until your lips form a forced pout.

James smiles. Beautiful, mischievous, absolutely enchanted.

“Ah, what a precious thing,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with an almost exaggerated fondness. He studies your face for a second, his eyes shining, before lowering his head and lightly biting your lower lip trapped between your pinched cheeks.

You squirm in his hands, trying to escape the trap, but he holds your face a little longer before finally releasing your cheeks, his thumbs gently brushing over your warm skin as he watches every detail.

James is always watching.

All the time.

And he never gets tired.

His hands stay there, holding your face with an almost exaggerated care, as if he wants to memorize the feeling. He rests his forehead against yours, and the touch is lazy, comfortable.

“I’m officially a lost man,” he says, so close that it’s impossible to tell where his breath ends and yours begins. “You could ask me for anything right now, and I’d do it without hesitation. My heart? Take it. My dignity? Gone. My soul? Well, I think it’s been yours for a long time.”

You laugh, and James looks absolutely delighted by the sound.

He watches you, and there’s something in his eyes that makes your breath falter.

“Could you kiss me again?” he asks, and his voice is low, almost hesitant.

Your face burns, but you nod, and when your lips meet his skin again, James closes his eyes and lets out a satisfied sigh.

[starmurdock]

'truth is great and shall prevail'

matt murdock x reader | matt needing comfort & reassurance from the one he loves most

first DDBA!matt imagine. this show has re-fueled my love for writing him so i hope you enjoy! this one is fluffy and a lil angsty

the sounds of shuffling stirs you awake, limbs sprawling and stretching on your shared mattress as sunlight invades your vision. your eye opens just enough to read the time - 7:24.

a yawn escapes you just as matt turns around from the space in his closet. you smile softly. "morning, baby."

he walks over to your side of the mattress fastening his suit jacket. the sun hits his features just right, illuminating the perfectly intricate curves and angles of his face. his eyes glow a bright green-yellow, the crinkle of his smile briefly blocking their depth. "g'morning, pretty girl. how'd you sleep?"

the only response you can muster is a soft 'mmm' of contentment, letting him know: i slept well. he smiles, caressing your cheek like you'd break under his touch if he used too much force. your life with matt is nothing short of amazing, but mornings spent together take the cake. the softness of rustling in the sheets together, limbs tangled throughout the night; the warmth from matt's chest as he lays against your back, the pure comfort of resting your tired body against his. it truly is domestic heaven.

matt returns a 'mmm' in approval of your good sleep, kissing your forehead and lingering. you breathe deeply, taking in his scent that intoxicates you, wakes you up more than coffee ever could. it's musky, woody. not too strong for his heightened senses, but just enough to drive you mad. a hand moves onto his thigh, caressing and kneading the same way he does to you after a long day's work.

the ghost of matt's lips leave your skin feeling empty and cool as he sits back up, looking almost apologetic.

"today's the court meeting. wish i could stay here with you." he continues to gaze at you with a sorry expression, giving away the verity of his words. you take his hand and press a kiss to his palm.

" 's okay, honey. want them to see how good my husband is."

he laughs, still not used to the term. husband. it rings in his ears, only intensifying his insatiable need to be around you as much as possible.

"only wanna make you proud, sweetheart."

"you always do," you utter with the smile that never really left, because that's what matt does to you. his infectious spirit seeps into every fibre, imprinting himself, damning you to a lifetime of his wondrous company.

his expression turns serious all of a sudden, eyebrows fixed like he’s been taken off guard by something worrisome. he stares at you. his gaze is so intense it almost tricks you into thinking he is truly seeing you. the muscles of his thighs go taught, his hand stilling on your hip. his mouth opens once, twice before speaking.

"you know," he clears this throat. "i'm not one to admit to fear, but...i am nervous. about today." he looks away, now also fearing your judgment. he tries to hide his shame, but the way his hand twitches ever so slightly, like his body is wired to brace for disaster, gives it all away. you know him too well.

"hey," you sit up, all tiredness leaving your body. your hand takes his. "it's okay to be nervous, matt. you're human just like the rest of us."

as you speak, his fingers find solace in fiddling with your wedding ring. "i always had a vision for the person i wanted to marry when the time came. you gave me that and then some, matt. you're a damn good lawyer with a good heart. every time you step foot in the courtroom, you prove that to be true a hundred times over."

his gaze is back on you, staring just hard as before but differently, longingly. he heard the way your heart beat steady, the way it kept a stable rhythm. of course you were telling the truth, you had no reason to lie about this. and yet, the voice in the back of his mind taints his judgement as it so often does. he thanks God he's the only one with super hearing, his heart beating twice as fast as yours.

he fails to articulate how your sentiment made him feel, so he grabs your chin and kisses you instead. his tongue swiping on your lip at first contact, hungry for a taste of you. aching to savor every drop of your sweet, poisonous words. it didn't matter to him that you had just woken up, that the heat of your breath might've turned anyone else away. matt would take you in every state, every form. he pulls you onto his lap, grabbing at the flesh of your ass. molding, kneading, squishing. he can't get enough of you. tugging on the curls at the nape of his neck, he groans.

"fuck--" he hovers just above your lips. "i really should get going, honey. 'm sorry." he kisses one last time, making it count. with a final tap on your behind, he pulls away and gently scoots you back into bed. matt grabs his cane from its spot against the wall, exhaling as if purging the anxiety from his core. you tap on the mattress, signaling his attention.

"go get em, baby."

[kittenan]

No Subtitles in Bed

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader x Kim Namjoon Genre: Erotica, Polyamory, Language Kink, Possessive Love, Voyeurism, Slow-Burn Tension, Soft Dominance, Jealousy, Dirty Talk, Fluff Word Count: ~5k Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY, Minors DNI) Warnings: Explicit sexual content (threesome, oral sex, penetrative sex, double penetration setup, possessive behavior), language barrier, jealousy, light marking, voyeurism, dirty talk, alcohol mention, shower sex, unprotected sex, intense emotional dynamics. Please read responsibly! Summary: Stranded in Seoul due to a visa crisis, you, a freelance photographer, enter a marriage of convenience with Jeon Jungkook, a gorgeous but guarded music producer who barely speaks English. Your survival-level Korean and his broken English create a tantalizing language barrier, sparking tension in and out of bed. Enter Kim Namjoon, Jungkook’s charming, fluent friend, whose translations ignite a wildfire of desire, turning him from observer to equal partner in a steamy, possessive triad. A/n: If you don't like the idea of multiple partners, poly au, polyamory relationships then DNI. I have already mentioned in warnings and Genre.

The Seoul summer was relentless, humidity clinging to your skin as you stood outside the government office, a marriage certificate trembling in your hands. Jeon Jungkook, your unexpected husband, stood beside you, his dark eyes flicking from the paper to your face. His jaw was tight, lips pressed thin, but his hand hovered near your waist, a silent claim.

You’d come to Seoul a year ago, chasing a freelance photography gig after a messy breakup back home. South Korea’s vibrant chaos had been a fresh start—until your work visa renewal hit a snag. A friend’s desperate pitch—“Jungkook’s solid, he’ll marry you to keep you here”—and your own reckless impulse led to this moment. You barely knew him. A few coffee shop meetups, his shy smiles, and broken English weren’t enough to prepare you for this. Marriage.

Jungkook was unfairly gorgeous—black hair falling into his eyes, a brow piercing catching the sunlight, tattoos peeking from his sleeve. “Good?” he asked, voice low, accented. His English was halting, your Korean worse—annyeonghaseyo, kamsahamnida, menu items.

“Yeah, good,” you whispered, heart pounding. You’d hesitated at the desk, pen hovering, imagining your ex’s smug face if you got deported. This was survival, not romance. Right?

Jungkook muttered—“aish”—frustration clear. He grabbed your hand, firm but gentle, pulling you toward his car. “Where?” you asked, stumbling after him.

“House,” he said, then something in Korean. You didn’t understand, but his intense gaze made your stomach flip. You nodded, choosing to trust him, asserting your own resolve to make this work.

Jungkook’s apartment was sleek—dark wood, minimalist, scented with his woody cologne. You stood in the living room, clutching your camera bag, as he handed you a bottle of soju. “Drink,” he said, clinking his bottle against yours. “Good for… nervous.”

You laughed, tension easing. “Yeah, I’m nervous.” You took a swig, the burn grounding you. Silence fell, heavy with unspoken questions. How do you live with someone you can’t fully talk to? Share a bed?

One afternoon, you tried communicating. You pointed at a kimchi jar, attempting, “Kimchi… jotayo?” (I like kimchi). Jungkook grinned, correcting gently, “Joahe.” His smile was disarming, but when you mispronounced “saranghae” (I love you) during a playful language lesson, his eyes darkened, and he stepped closer.

“Yeppeo,” he murmured—pretty—his gaze lingering on your sundress. You blushed, feeling the heat of his attention. “Thanks,” you said, then boldly touched his arm, testing the waters. His breath hitched, and he kissed you, hungry, hands sliding to your waist. You felt his arousal through his jeans, moaning softly.

He growled in Korean, hands under your dress. “Wait,” you panted, pulling back. “What did you say?”

Frustrated, he tried, “You… mine. Want to… fuck.” The bluntness burned, his accent making it filthier. You wanted him, but the language gap was maddening. “We need help,” you said, asserting control. “Someone to translate.”

Jungkook groaned, grabbing his phone.

“Namjoon,” he said. “He... help.”

Kim Namjoon arrived the next morning, all dimples and broad shoulders, a leather notebook in hand. His English was flawless, his voice deep, and when he shook your hand, his thumb lingered. “Jungkook says communication’s tough,” he said, settling on the couch. Jungkook sat beside you, thigh pressed to yours, hand possessive on your knee.

“It’s everything,” you admitted, cheeks warm. “Talking, living together… intimacy.” You glanced at Jungkook, who watched you intently. “I want to understand him. Especially in bed.”

Namjoon’s eyes twinkled. “In bed too?” Jungkook muttered, grip tightening. Namjoon chuckled. “He’s frustrated because he can’t tell you how much he wants you. He’s passionate but stuck.”

“Tell him I want him too,” you said softly, leaning into Jungkook. “But I need to know what he’s feeling.”

Namjoon translated, and Jungkook smirked, whispering in your ear. Namjoon said, “He says your body will understand his, even without words.” Your thighs clenched.

That evening, Namjoon stayed for dinner, translating Jungkook’s stories about his music producer job. You shared your photography passion, showing them a photo of Seoul’s neon streets. Namjoon’s praise—“You capture the city’s pulse”—felt intimate, and Jungkook’s hand tightened on your thigh.

Later, Jungkook pulled you onto his lap, kissing your neck. Namjoon watched, his gaze heavy. “Tell me,” you gasped as Jungkook’s hands roamed.

“He loves how you taste,” Namjoon said, voice husky. “Wants to mark you as his.” Jungkook’s teeth grazed your collarbone. You moaned, noticing Namjoon’s arousal through his jeans. His desire amplified yours, and Jungkook’s smirk suggested he noticed too.

The first bedroom translation was chaotic and searing, with you taking the lead to set the pace.

You straddled Jungkook on the bed, his shirt off, muscles flexing as you kissed down his chest. His Korean murmurs drove you wild, but you needed clarity. You guided his hands to your breasts, showing him what you wanted, your confidence growing. “Namjoon,” you panted, “what’s he saying?”

Namjoon sat by the bed, gripping the armrest, hand on his thigh. “He wants to worship you,” he said, voice strained. “Says your skin’s so soft, he’s losing his mind.”

Jungkook tugged your panties down, growling. Namjoon translated, “Your pussy’s so pretty, he could stare forever.” You whimpered as Jungkook’s fingers teased your clit, slow and deliberate. Namjoon’s breathing hitched, his hand slipping inside his pants, stroking himself.

“Tell him to taste me,” you said, bold. Namjoon translated, and Jungkook’s eyes flashed, his tongue flicking your clit. You moaned, guiding his head, reveling in control. Namjoon’s voice was rough: “He wants to ruin you, feel you come on his tongue.”

You came, vision blurring, Jungkook’s fingers curling inside you. Namjoon groaned, stroking faster, his sounds mingling with yours. Jungkook kissed you, lips slick. “Mine,” he said, then in Korean. Namjoon translated, “You’re his. Only his.”

But Namjoon’s hungry and disagreed gaze lingered, hinting at more.

Weeks blurred with sex and translation. Namjoon was there nightly, his presence electric. Jungkook fucked you possessively, leaving faint marks, while Namjoon’s voice wove through, translating every filthy word. Namjoon often touched himself watching, his arousal heightening yours, and Jungkook’s harder thrusts showed he also enjoyed the dynamic.

One afternoon, alone with Namjoon practicing Korean, tension shifted. Jungkook was at the studio. “Say ‘bogoshipo’,” Namjoon said. “I miss you.”

You said it, and his eyes softened. “Good. Soon you won’t need me.” His voice was wistful.

“I’ll always need you,” you teased, but his gaze sharpened, brushing hair behind your ear. “Don’t say that,” he murmured, thumb grazing your cheek. You froze, body responding.

The door opened. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, seeing Namjoon’s hand. He snapped in Korean. Namjoon replied calmly, but Jungkook pulled you to him. “Mine,” he said, kissing you hard. Namjoon translated, “You belong to him. I need to stop touching.”

“It’s not what you think,” you said, touching Jungkook’s chest. “I want you both… but we need to talk.” Your insistence on clarity showed your growing agency.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. Namjoon’s eyes were unreadable. Jungkook spoke, and Namjoon translated, “He wants me to translate tonight. And… touch you. But he’s scared.”

You reached for Jungkook’s hand. “I’m yours. Both of yours, if you want that.”

That night redefined boundaries, a wildfire of trust and desire.

Jungkook had you on your hands and knees, his cock buried deep in your pussy, each thrust deliberate, stretching you deliciously. His hands gripped your hips, leaving faint marks. He spoke in Korean, voice raw. You sobbed, overwhelmed, sheets fisted.

“Namjoon,” you gasped, “what’s he saying?”

Namjoon knelt in front, shirt unbuttoned, stroking his thick cock. “He wants to fuck you until you’re his forever,” he said, voice hoarse. “He’s jealous of how much you need me.”

Jungkook slowed, pulling you against his chest, hands cupping your breasts, pinching your nipples. “Touch her,” he said in English, accent heavy. You nodded, desperate. Namjoon’s fingers found your clit, rubbing slow circles, the dual sensation dizzying.

Jungkook’s thrusts deepened, Namjoon’s fingers matched his rhythm. Jungkook growled, and Namjoon translated, “He wants to ruin you while I make you scream.”

You were close, trembling. Namjoon’s hand grazed your throat, thumb on your pulse. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, unprompted. “I’m falling for you.”

The confession pushed you over. You came, walls pulsing around Jungkook, screaming. Jungkook groaned, guiding you to the bed’s edge. “Take her,” he said to Namjoon, a challenge. “She’s ours.”

Namjoon hesitated, then kissed you softly, grabbing lube. Jungkook spread your thighs, still inside you. Namjoon’s fingers prepared you, sliding into your rim, stretching gently. “Relax,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder.

Jungkook thrust slowly, Namjoon entered your ass, the fullness intense but thrilling. They moved in tandem, Jungkook’s deep thrusts alternating with Namjoon’s careful ones. You sobbed, caught between them, every nerve alight. Namjoon’s hand returned to your clit, and Jungkook growled, “Ours.”

You came again, convulsing, their names echoing. Jungkook spilled inside you, then Namjoon, their releases hot. They held you, Jungkook’s arms tight, Namjoon’s hand in your hair.

“Saranghae,” Jungkook murmured. Namjoon translated, “We love you, in every language.”

Morning light filtered through the curtains. Jungkook kissed your forehead, Namjoon’s voice soft. “He’s sorry if he scared you,” Namjoon murmured. “But not sorry for sharing you.”

You laughed, content. “What now?”

They exchanged glances. Namjoon spoke, “We want you with us. Both of us.”

That evening, over soju and samgyeopsal, you discussed the triad. “I love you both,” you admitted, heart racing. “But I’m scared. What if I hurt one of you?”

Jungkook squeezed your hand. Namjoon translated, “He says we’ll fight, but we’ll fix it. You’re worth it.”

Namjoon added, “I was loyal to Jungkook, but I love you too. We’ll make it work.” His vulnerability—admitting his fear of overstepping—deepened your trust.

A month later, you signed a second marriage license, a private ceremony for three. Namjoon’s hand shook, but his smile was radiant. You exchanged simple bands, a silent vow.

Life with Jungkook and Namjoon was a vibrant dance of heat and tenderness, each moment weaving you closer. Your Korean had improved enough to catch Jungkook’s playful “Yeppeo” when you wore his oversized shirt, or Namjoon’s flirty “Bogoshipo” when you returned from a photography gig. The language barrier was no longer a wall but a bridge, crossed with laughter and lingering touches.

One humid evening, Seoul’s skyline glittering from a rooftop date, the air crackled with desire. Jungkook’s possessiveness flared when a stranger’s gaze lingered on you at the bar. He pulled you against the rooftop railing, his hands firm on your hips, lips grazing your ear. “Nae yeoja,” he growled—my girl—his cock hard through his jeans as he pressed into you. Namjoon stood close, his broad frame shielding you from view, his fingers brushing your arm, eyes dark with intent.

“Mine,” Jungkook said in English, then glanced at Namjoon, smirking. “Ours.” Namjoon’s lips curved, and he leaned in, whispering, “Let’s show her.”

Back at the apartment, the tension erupted in the cramped shower, steam fogging the glass walls, hot water cascading over your skin. Jungkook grabbed you up, your legs wrapping around his torso, his back pinned against the cool tiles, his inked chest glistening, droplets clinging to his tattoos. His fingers teased your folds, slow and deliberate, grazing your clit until you whimpered, nails digging into his biceps, leaving faint crescent marks. Then Namjoon stood behind, his taller frame pressed close, lips brushing your shoulder, his cock hard against your lower back.

“Fuck, Namjoon... Jungkook,” you gasped, head tipping back. Jungkook’s smirk was wicked, his fingers circling your clit. He murmured in Korean, voice low and guttural, vibrating against your throat as he kissed the sensitive skin there.

Namjoon’s hands joined Jungkook’s, one sliding to your breast, thumb flicking your nipple, the other gripping your thigh to spread you wider. “He says you’re so wet, he can feel you dripping for both of us,” Namjoon translated, voice rough with arousal. “That he wants to take you apart.”

You moaned, hips bucking, desperate for more. “I want you both,” you panted, bold, reaching back to graze Namjoon’s cock, then forward to stroke Jungkook’s through the water’s slickness. Their groans mingled, Jungkook’s possessive, Namjoon’s hungry.

Jungkook’s eyes flashed, and he nodded at Namjoon, a silent agreement. “Tell him I want to please you both,” you said, voice steady despite the heat. Namjoon translated, and Jungkook’s gaze darkened, his fingers slowing to let Namjoon take the lead.

Namjoon turned you gently, your back now against Jungkook’s chest, his hands steady on your hips. Namjoon’s lips claimed yours, his kiss deep and slow, tongue teasing yours as he lined himself up, his cock nudging your entrance. “Breathe,” he murmured, pushing in slowly, stretching you with a delicious burn. You gasped, clinging to his shoulders, Jungkook’s lips on your neck, sucking a faint mark.

“So tight,” Namjoon groaned, his thrusts careful but deep, filling you completely. Jungkook’s hands roamed, one pinching your nipple, the other sliding to your clit, rubbing tight circles in time with Namjoon’s rhythm. The dual sensation—Namjoon’s cock, Jungkook’s fingers—sent sparks through you, your moans echoing off the tiles.

“Switch,” Jungkook growled, his voice raw. Namjoon slowed, kissing you softly before pulling out, leaving you aching. Jungkook spun you to face him, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist, the water making your skin slick. He thrust into your pussy, hard and deep, his cock hitting that perfect spot. You cried out, nails scratching his back, Namjoon’s hands now on your ass, spreading you wider for Jungkook.

“Yeppeo,” Jungkook murmured something in korean, eyes locked on yours. Namjoon translated, his breath hot against your ear, “He says you’re so pretty, taking us like this.”

You wanted more, wanted them both. “Let me please you,” you said, bold, sinking to your knees despite the cramped space, water splashing around you. You took Jungkook’s cock in your mouth first, savoring his low groan, your tongue swirling around the tip. Namjoon’s hand tangled in your hair, guiding you gently as you switched, taking Namjoon’s thicker length, your lips stretching around him. His moan was deep, hips twitching as you sucked, Jungkook stroking himself beside you, eyes burning.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Namjoon panted, voice strained. Jungkook growled in Korean, and Namjoon translated, “He says he loves watching you take us both.” He continued. "And me too."

You alternated, pleasing them one by one, your hands stroking whoever wasn’t in your mouth, the water amplifying every sound—your moans, their groans, the wet slide of skin. Jungkook’s thighs tensed, his hand tightening in your hair as he came, his release hot on your tongue. You swallowed, then focused on Namjoon, sucking harder until he spilled, his cum mixing with the water, his fingers digging into your shoulder.

They pulled you up, laughter soft as they steadied you, the shower’s heat making you dizzy. Jungkook kissed you, tasting himself, while Namjoon’s lips found your temple, his touch gentle. “Saranghae,” Jungkook murmured, and Namjoon echoed, “We love you.”

They cleaned you up, Jungkook’s hands gentle with the soap, gliding over your skin with reverent care, his fingers tracing the marks he’d left, a soft smile breaking through his usual intensity. Namjoon’s teasing came as he rinsed your hair, his long fingers massaging your scalp, murmuring, “You’re glowing, you know,” his voice warm with affection. They took turns drying you, Jungkook wrapping you in a fluffy towel, patting your skin with deliberate tenderness, while Namjoon knelt to dry your legs, stealing playful kisses on your knees that made you giggle. Wrapped in towels, they guided you to bed, Jungkook tucking you against his chest, his heartbeat steady under your cheek, Namjoon sliding in behind, his arm draping over your waist, fingers interlacing with Jungkook’s. Their warmth chased away the night’s chill, their soft whispers of “saranghae” lulling you, already dreaming of the next time.

Winter blanketed Seoul, the apartment warm with coffee and cinnamon. You woke tangled in sheets, Jungkook’s arm heavy across your waist, Namjoon’s breath on your neck. The bed was chaos—pillows scattered, a sock on the headboard—but it was home.

Jungkook stirred, nuzzling you. “Joheun achim,” he mumbled—good morning. You smiled, understanding. Namjoon chuckled, adding something that Jungkook didn't even say. “He says you’re too pretty for 7 a.m.,” he teased.

“Liar,” you laughed, swatting Namjoon. He kissed your knuckles, eyes soft. Jungkook pulled you closer, grumbling, “Nae yeoja”—my girl—then tugged Namjoon into the pile. “Uri yeoja”—our girl.

You giggled, squished between them. “Ridiculous,” you said, heart swelling. Namjoon traced your hip. “But Yours,” he said, flirty. Jungkook nipped your earlobe, possessive. “And you are Ours.”

You made pancakes, Jungkook stealing batter, Namjoon sighing while reading book. When Jungkook pouted, you fed him a piece, syrup on his lips. “Naneun neoreul saranghae” you said, the word easy now.

They echoed it, and you knew this—messy, heated, tender—was forever. A year later, you planned a trip to Jeju, a photo series capturing their love. Seoul’s streets still judged, but in your shared bed, no translation was needed.

A/n: This wild idea sparked when I stumbled upon a post and I couldn’t shake the plot from my mind. Not sure if it landed perfectly, but I had a blast writing this shit! 😈🤪

Imp. Update: Please check out this post and support.

Do Follow my backup account : @kittenan2

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[bwoahtastic]

need oscar waking up in carlos's bed after "hate" sex to an empty bed which is fine carlos doesn't owe him anything... but weird because he's 90% sure that this is carlos's bed. Eventually oscar starts gathering his things to leave only to come out of the bedroom to see sleepy carlos (that one new video) making breakfast. Oscar just turns straight back around and mutters something about "nope not falling in love with you, not going to work." but he does take his shirt back off and wedge himself back under the covers because he is not equipped to deal with morning carlos right now

SKDKKWKDKSKD I LOVE THIS IDEA I KNOW YOU DIDNT ASK FOR A DRABBLE BUT I JUST HAD TO WRITE IT

~~~

Oscar woke up comfortably sore and warm. He yawned, nosing into a soft pillow that smelled like aftershave, woody and perhaps a hint of cinnamon. It very much wasn't Oscar's aftershave, and the scent made him frown, open his eyes.

He looked around the room, sighing when he noticed that it was Carlos's, not his own.

Again. He really needed to stop ending up in Carlos's place.

It was a easy thing to notice, that he wasn't home. Carlos's Monaco apartment was warm and homely, his own was sterile and still didn't have an actual lamp in the bedroom.

The owner of the apartment was nowhere to be found though, which made Oscar feel a little disrespected. Carlos didn't seem to mind being in this bed with him when he could fuck Oscar senseless (Oscar very much didn't mind that either), but he wouldn't be surprised if Carlos had gone to sleep somewhere else right after.

Oscar sat up, yawning and stretching. He felt some light bruises on his hips, on his shoulders, and they made them smirk slightly, trace them with something that definitely wasn't fondness, thank you very much!

Oscar managed to find a shirt and some clean boxers that were definitely not his but would at least fit, stumbling into the bedroom to shower and use as much of Carlos's overpriced shower gel as possible. Just as a pay back.

His next step was to steal Carlos's food, so he shuffled to the kitchen, frowning as he smelled pancakes... bacon... eggs too, maybe?

He rounded the corner to the kitchen to find Carlos already there. The Spaniard was only wearing tight boxers, giving Oscar a great view of his muscled, tan back. He turned when he heard Oscar, smiling softly and opening his mouth to speak.

Oscar held up his hand, looking back and forth between sleepy, cuddly looking Carlos, the breakfast on the stove, and the two plates set up on the table.

"No, no I'm not falling in love with you. This won't work!" He threatingly wagged his finger at Carlos before stomping out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom, grumbling as he wrestled out of the unfairly soft shirt he had stolen off Carlos and climbing back in under the soft blankets.

If he would lay here long enough, Carlos would stop being a gentleman, a perfect boyfriend, he was sure if it.

Oscar had almost dozed off again when the door to the bedroom opened. He peeked out from his blanket cocoon to see Carlos walk in, carrying a tray with the breakfast he had prepared.

"Breakfast in bed? Really?" Oscar grumbled. "What games are you playing?" Carlos sighed, rolling his eyes as he set the tray on the side table and nudged Oscar to the side so he didn't take up all the space in the bed. Carlos sat down next to him, taking the tray of breakfast on his lap.

"I thought it would be fair to feed you, after the work out from last night..." Carlos smiled, offering Oscar a bite of pancake on a fork. Oscar glared but accepted it, groaning a little as the pancakes really were very fucking good.

They ate in silence, Oscar still warily side eying Carlos but letting Carlos feed him bites.

He even offered part of the blanket to Carlos, to be nice, but also because he kept staring at that big, tan, hair chest and the rather dark bite mark he had left over Carlos's pecks.

"So what did you say about falling in love with me?" Carlos asked airily, but those big doe eyes were figured intently on Oscar's face. Oscar narrowed his eyes.

"I said you were trying to make me fall in love. I didn't suggest I was even slightly close to it." He huffed, before parting his lips and waiting for Carlos to feed him a strawberry.

"And what if I was? Trying to make you fall in love with me?" Carlos murmured, placing the tray on the table. Oscar gave him a skeptical look.

"Why? To get me to let you pass on track? No offence, Carlos, but you drive a Williams and there is no way-" Oscar started, shaking his head warily. Carlos let out a deep sigh, placing his hand over Oscar's mouth.

"No, it wouldn't be racing related. It would be because I'm falling in love with you too." He murmured, eyes pained. Oscar swallowed thickly, staying silent for a moment even after Carlos removed his hand.

"And is you falling for me just hypothetical or..." He trailed off, unsure if he wanted to know the answer. Carlos looked tired, staring down at the empty plate in his lap.

"That's depends on your answer." He decided. Oscar sat up. He wasn't awake enough to understand where this conversation was going.

"My answer to what?" There was some syrup left on the plate and Oscar reached out to swipe it off with his fingers. Carlos watched him closely as Oscar licked the digits cleans.

"If you would let me... if you would let me make you fall in love with me, too." Carlos murmured. Oscar's mind helpfully repeated the word 'too' over and over again at him. He bit his lip.

"I prefer dates at home, I get awkward in public places, although I could be convinced to go to a zoo. I would also need you to swear on your dog that you won't tell Lando anything... although he will probably find out somehow." Oscar suspicously looked up at the ceiling, as if he expected Lando to have planted a camera there. "And let's not stop having sex, I like that part. A lot." Carlos's cheeks had flushed a bit, but he was smiling. It was a cute smile, Oscar gruffly admitted to himself.

"So we will start dating, yes?" He asked. Oscar shrugged.

"Yes. Until I fall in love with you." He answered. Carlos seemed amused now, his eyes sparkling.

"Do I get to kiss you? I think it will help." He purred. Oscar tilted his head, thought about it.

"Yeah, I think that should be acceptable." He said calmly, but his heart was racing in his chest as Carlos's smile softened. The Spaniard leaned in to brush his lips over Oscar's in a sweet kiss, very different from the biting, clashing kisses they shared when sleeping together.

"Okay?" Carlos asked softly, pulling away only ever so slightly. Oscar hummed.

"I think I will need a lot more kisses, just to help me make up my mind..." he murmured, stealing another kiss off those plush lips. Carlos chuckled, arm curling around Oscar's waist.

"That's fine. It will be my pleasure..."

[bunni-v1]

Omegaverse Lighter Ramblings

🍓That Omagaverse ask has had me in a chokehold, I haven’t have the time to write much of anything since finals week started butttt I have to get Alpha!Lighter out of my head and onto my blog IMMEDIATELY!!!

TW: Omegaverse related stuff lol (marking, breeding, excessive use of the word alpha 💀)

Info: Lighter x Reader; Alpha!Lighter; implied Omega!Reader; Spoilers for Lighter’s trust events

-Lighter is unequivocally an Alpha, let’s get that settled. There’s no way he’s anything but. He has that pure alpha male kinda vibe (jsbsishwos).

-Speaking seriously, he presented around when he turned thirteen, and he’s always been seen as an “Alpha’s Alpha”. He’s strong, competent, and he demands respect just by being in a room.

-It’s part of why he became a mercenary in the first place. He just knew he was built to lead a pack, no matter how dangerous the work they did was.

-He was a great head too, his pack loved him and he loved them. He did his absolute best all the time to be the best Alpha he could be, supporting all of his pack members and never discriminating based on their second genders.

-He vowed he wouldn’t become a monster like other Alphas. He heard the stories of pack leaders losing their minds or abusing the weakest members just because they could. It made him sick to his stomach, so he made sure his pack was safe under him.

-So their deaths hit him so much harder. He legitimately cannot handle it, the grief and the devastation turn him into a monster in the ring. He is the perfect picture of everything he swore he would never become in those years, and they’re particularly difficult for him to reflect upon.

-Joining the SoC is also made harder because he’s kind of needing to recover from literally just living on his instincts 24/7. He avoids the girls like the plague cause he doesn’t want to hurt them — it’s his job to do the opposite.

-Slowly, slowlyyyy, he warms up to them and he lets them in and he doesn’t realize how much he missed having a pack to call his own until he has them. This time, though, he doesn’t want to lead and he doesn’t have to.

-(In case anyone is wondering Caesar is an Alpha (no duh), Piper is a beta, Burnice is… Omaga(?), and Lucy is an Omega. Lighter loves them so much, despite the distance he keeps, he hold nothing but respect and admiration for his pack.)

-It’s a good deal he’s got going too. He gets to have a pack full of friends and a home to call his own… and he can also take out any pent up aggression in his fights.

-Okay with all that out of the way, I’ll get into the shit you wanna hear.

-Firstly Lighter smells… peculiar? He’s got this woody kinda undertone and there’s a sharp scent of gasoline on top of it. He smells like a fire before it’s burning. It’s not bad, but it’s really intense and it can be… too much for most people.

-It’s something that lingers in the air even after he leaves. He always tries his best to contain it, but he can’t help that he naturally secretes a lot of his scent. The girls don’t complain, and it’s a good way of keeping people in check, so he never thinks too much of it.

-Though he does notice the odd looks he gets in Lumina Square, he just figures it’s because of the way he dresses or some other thing.

-It’s not till you point out that his scent is so strong that he realizes. You frame it as a good thing (because of course you love how your alpha smells), and he starts like secreting his scent more when you’re around 😭

-Speaking of you fucking REEK of Lighter. He is big on scenting, leans hard into that jealous protective side he has. If you smell like him, people probably won’t mess with you.

-If someone is stupid enough to do so, they probably won’t be around long enough to warn others not to, honestly.

-Imagine regular Lighter’s protectiveness turner up to like ten. He does NOT fuck around when it comes to his mate, not even a little. Those violent instincts come out tendfold when his mate is in trouble.

-So, yeah he scents you a lot, and he’s big big big on marking. You’ve gotta have a visible mating mark somewhere on your person or else Lighter’s gonna be antsy until he can get one on you.

-His favorite ones to leave are on the juncture between your neck and your jaw. The mark is big, but it’s still something that you can hide easily for more professional things.

-He’s quite possessive of you, too. He’s never had a real mate to call his own before, and you are everything he’s ever wanted and more. Excuse him for being a little obsessive.

-His favorite thing in the world, though, is your scent. He practically begs you to scent him every morning and every night. It rarely sticks thanks to how strong his own is, but it’s the idea that he wants your scent so badly that’s so flattering.

-He also wants you to mark him, and he doesn’t care where. His neck? Perfect! His chest? Wonderful! His thighs? Knock yourself out!

-He does LIKE having matching mating marks though, so he’d be very flattered to have your mark in the same place as his.

-Ah, and finally, let’s talk about his rut shall we?

-It’s intense, like worryingly so. It lasts about a week and a half, exceptionally long even for alphas, and it’s miserable to deal with alone.

-He used to take suppressants for them when he was younger, but during his time in the ring he just learned to lock himself away and deal with it.

-There’s little to no relief during his ruts when he’s alone. He can fuck his hand or use toys and cum like that and he’ll be fully erect within a minute later.

-He gets these awful fevers that, the first time it happened, the girls thought he was legitimately dying until Bug Daddy realized what was going on and chased them off.

-He really struggles to keep himself mentally in check during his ruts, so he usually locks himself away until it’s over for everyone’s well-being.

-When he gets with you, though, it’s… different. They’re MORE intense, like to the point it concerns him a lot. He connects pretty quickly that it’s because his alpha knows that he has a mate now, and it wants its mate to help it out.

-He’s kinda afraid to let you help, though. He’s not exactly coherent or even remotely considerate of anything during his rut. All he’s thinking about is how badly he needs to fuck whatever hole is in front of him (specifically, how badly he wants to fuck your hole and stuff it full of his pups).

-You’re insistent about it though, and he can only say come up with so many excuses before he finally gives in.

-It’s literally life changing, I’m not joking.

-He gives you a whole rundown about being safe and how you need to put yourself first no matter what and blah blah blah.

-He’s so fucking sweet to you during his rut, I’m not joking. It’s literally like his alpha is sedated by your presence, and he’s so incredibly obsessed with keeping you happy and satisfied with him.

-Anything you want it’s yours so long as he gets to be with you, okay. Just the smell of your skin is enough to make him sigh in relief. Let alone the touch of your skin.

-He’ll split open your legs and eat and eat and eat until you’re sobbing for him to do anything but. He can’t help that you taste soooo good on his tongue. He can’t get enough of that delicious flavor you’ve got, not when he’s so far buried into it now.

-God don’t even mention how you feel around him. It’s actual heaven, you letting him rut into your sweet little hole, all because you love him. All because you want to help him out. Oh, it has his alpha purring in delight.

-So many positions, most of which have him bent over you so he can coo in your ear how good you feel. How he can’t wait to see your tummy swell. How much he adores being inside you.

-It still takes him a while to cum, despite how satisfied he is being inside of you. It’s just how his body is, but when he does cum it’s A LOT. If he’s not knotting you you are almost drowning in it.

-Forbid if you play with it, he’ll be hard again in less than ten seconds and ready to go again.

-When he cums, though, he always leaves a nice bloodied mark to enjoy for later. Your whole neck is pretty much black and blue from how many he leaves.

-That’s okay though, you enjoy it too, which only motivates him to keep going more and more until you tell him to stop.

-You’re his cute little mate, all his to mark up and stuff up. The way you squirm when his knot swells inside you makes his toes curl.

-And when you whine about being “too full” as he pumps load after load inside he can’t help but laugh at you. You wanted this after all, don’t complain when he’s giving you exactly what you asked for.

-Having you during his rut shortens it a significant amount, and it usually only lasts four to five days so long as you’re available.

-After the fact he’s so doting, feeling so bad for splitting you apart and stuffing you too full. You usually need a few days to recover together, and it’s full of nothing but pampering and loving from your oh so adoring mate.

[kentoxo]

okay so ur writing is so good wth. i wanted to request smth...

hear me out: toge with a partner who's never been able to finish with anyone in bed before. like all he would have to do is use he cursed speech....

i'm crying screaming and slamming my keyboard. this is such a hot concept, stop. I wish we saw more of him in this series, they did my man dirrtyyyyy. thank u for your compliment & thank you for this req anon, i got u <3

pairing: reader(f) x bf!inumaki (aged up)

synopsis: you didn’t want to admit you were never satisfied. It was simply that previous partners weren't able to keep up or just didn't care to put in the work in bed. But for Inumaki, your satisfaction was before anything. He couldn't finish if you didn't, first. And he knew exactly what to do.

warnings: shower sex, oral (head), overstimulation, sexual use of cursed speech

a/n: i got nothing, just thank you for the req and thank u to everyone who enjoys my writing :)

You didn't think you were that hard to satisfy, but history seems to repeat itself in torturous ways.

Before you dated Toge, your sex life was very...unfulfilling to say the least. Left and right, all the men you've dated or just fucked could never quite reach you to the point of ecstasy. Having to fake an orgasm became subconscious to you, and you never learned to speak up for yourself and your sexual needs. That was, until you met Toge.

Toge was different from the men you've met prior. Though he was a man of very few words, he was an amazing listener and a better lover. In the few months that you have been dating, Toge has been the most considerate gentleman of them all. He's never verbalized his love, but you've always felt it in his actions.

After a very uncomfortable conversation regarding your unfulfilling sex life, Toge was determined to make love to you. The way it's supposed to be done.

But tonight was different. Toge's plans were far beyond what you could have ever imagined.

On your way home from work, you were welcomed into a recently cleaned house. Toge purposely took on an early mission instead of his usual night venture, making it opportune. to surprise you with a clean house. As you put your bag down, Toge quickly met you in the hallway.

You smelled the familiar scent of pine needle and cedar atlas. The woody musk that emanated from his body complimented his lazy, home fit. He was draped in a black long sleeve shirt, the cotton fabric that allowed him to stretch the way he likes. With hands stuffed in his gray sweats, the man stood before you proudly.

"Hi, m'love," you coo quietly. While you took off your shoes, Toge crouched down to meet your height and smiled warmly. It was rare to see his mouth, the Snake Eyes and Fangs seal sitting comfortable at the ends of his lips.

He gently pats your head with his hand, "Kelp." With his other hand, he grabbed your slippers from the rack, and placed them before you. Your heart flutters as you slipped your tired feet in them and adjusted. "Salmon roe," Toge says quietly.

Hmm? You wonder in your head as the tall, slim man turned the corner to the kitchen. You follow swiftly behind him, only to find dinner ready at your small dining table. "Oh Toge, you didn't have to!" You exclaim at his kind gesture. Due to Toge's constant night missions, you took on the role to cook for you two. But since he decided to take a daytime mission, he had enough time to rest and cook.

Toge only smiles widely before pulling your chair back a bit and waiting for you. He was so good to you, your heart could break out of your chest from profound emotion. You felt warm, and your whole body felt like it could float. You take your seat and feel him push you in slowly. He takes his seat across from you and giddily watches as you take your first few bites.

The flavors saunter in your mouth like two lovers in a tango, "oh my goodness, Toge!" You nod your head in approval, "this is so good! You have to teach me one of these days."

Toge truly paid attention to you when he makes no advances on you until you were showered. He knew you wanted to wash off your day, especially with how taxing your job was. So although he wanted to kiss you desperately, he also knew a thing or two about patience. But, you would never push away his advances whenever his mood was over the roof.

With the shower already prepared (courtesy of your boyfriend), you quickly stripped and entered the shower. Warm water sent shots of pleasure through your body, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. Droplets of water streamed down your chest, with the dews hanging from your now erect buds.

As you rubbed soap all around your wet body, you heard the bathroom door open and close. "Toge?" You asked calmly. The sliding door of the shower was designed distorted, so you could see a body but not the details. He confirmed his presence with a gentle Salmon roe, so you smiled and carried on. But through the door, you noticed that the black and gray of his outfit was suddenly being removed from his body.

You decide not to question it and continue to clean yourself. But then the sliding door began to open slowly, and your lovers head peeped into the shower. He's seen your body before, but even so. "B-baby?" You stutter a bit, your face hot and crimson from his jade eyes.

Toge was completely stripped before you, verifying that your eyes did not deceive you. He was slim but toned, his muscles subtle but very present. His abs dented lightly down his stomach, his thighs ornate with shaded grooves of muscle. He completely enters his body and slides the shower shut, looking down at you with eyes full of hunger and lust.

"Just wanted to shower with me?" You ask curiously, your body completely ornated with lathered soap and pearl bubbles. He doesn't give a clear answer, you couldn't quite read his expression. "Toge?"

In a sudden movement, his hands cup your cheeks and he pulls your lips to his. His member pressed against your stomach, feeling it twitch eagerly from the long-awaited contact. His lips were always so soft and smooth as they massaged your bottom lip gleefully. They tasted of strawberry, and his mouth of lemonade after having a cup with dinner. He tasted of summer, the saccharine sweetness of his mouth and love tantalizing.

These were the moments of exception, when Toge could not contain himself. His hands found solace on your ass, his fingers denting into your cheeks desperately. He rubbed them lovingly, squeezing and pulling them. He would slide upwards to rub the tips of his fingers against the dip of your back. He couldn't get enough of you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, your hands playing with his platinum locks. Toge grew his hair quite a bit, his spikes no longer able to stay up. They hang just before his shoulder blades, his locks sticking on his back due to the water. His skin was rough due to his extensive collection of scars but you didn't mind. This is Toge, and you loved everything about him.

He pulls back quickly, your lips missing his warmth. You look at him trivially, waiting for his next move. His eyes burn into yours, his jade eyes dimming. He takes both of your wrists and turns you around. Now facing the wall where the shower head hung, he guides your hands to the wall. The shower now focusing its water on your ass, you look back anxiously at your silent lover. "B-baby? What are you--ooh!"

Toge's lips found their way to your upper back, kissing along your spine. He peppers his kisses downward, using his tongue occasionally to lick along your back. Reaching your ass, he begins to plant multiple kisses on each cheek before his hands find their way to your inner thighs. He pushes them away from each other, with you following his lead and separating them.

In moments, you felt those soft lips against your own. You jump, not expecting to feel his tongue begin to drag in the crevice of your cunt. You could feel your legs already going weak by just the start, his lips finding his way to your leaking hole. He adjusts himself so you could see his head below you, giving you a mischievous smile before taking hold of your hips.

He brings his head back between your thighs, his sharp nose just grazing your clit. "mmm, babyyy," you whined, your toes curling from Toge's sporadic sharp breaths. His cool tongue lapped around your hole before sticking it in fully. His lips were pursed around your cunt, sucking gently before becoming a bit more aggressive. Precum slid out from your cunt like sap from a tree, with Toge desperately wanting to taste you more. "my clit, p-please..."

He hums against your pussy in response, his tongue finding its way to your pearl. He struck gold, your body beginning to tremble as the tip of his tongue twirled around your pretty clit. He licks you selfishly, occasionally sucking it with his teeth teasingly grazing it. You twitched every time he slowly dragged his tongue up your clit.

"s-so good, it f-feels so good, Toge," you moan out, your nails beginning to claw at the porcelain wall. His mouth on your cunt, warm water crawling down your spine. Your body was in paradise, and you were only getting closer and closer to finishing. But, Toge suddenly stops, looking up to see your exasperated face. Your chest was heaving, with your breasts hanging above him, covered in suds and temptation.

He gives you another smile before finding his way back behind you. You were able to relax a little bit, but Toge immediately got to work. He closed your legs, but kept you pressed against the wall. Holding your hip with one hand, he uses his other to rub the tip of his cock at the folds of your pussy. "ahhh..." you moan, eagerly waiting to take him in completely.

Birth control was the best decision you made. You loved feeling his raw cock slowly slide into you. You loved hearing the string of grunts leave his lips, his body shivering from the feeling of your tight walls. It filled you up lovingly, his tip just kindly reaching your g-spot. He whispers another sushi ingredient, waiting for the cue to keep going. "yes, fuck-!"

He started off slowly, his cock going in and out of you. But Toge lacked the patience to keep that pace, and started to go much faster. "h-hey!" You yelp, your nails desperately wanting to dig into the wall. Your boobs hit one another with every thrust, inspiring him to fuck you a little more ruthlessly.

His hands find their way to your chest, his hands taking hold of each tit. He holds them firmly, with your buds now between his indexes and thumbs. The rest of his hands grip your mounds so he could press your ass completely against his body. The palms of your hands lost hold on the wall, with only the tips of your fingers keeping your balance.

He was fucking you the way you loved. His body and yours colliding with the load splashing of water that coated both of your bodies. His quiet grunts and groans did a number on your body, unable to control yourself. You tighten around his member even more, forcing him to slow his pace. But still, Toge rammed his cock in and out of you, your precum mixing with the water and soap that's long left your legs.

"b-baby, I'm gonna cum," you stutter out, "i-i can't hold it in anymore..."

With a few more aggressive thrusts, you let go and finish all over his cock. You felt it sputter out of your pussy, your legs beginning to shake from the overwhelming feeling. Getting fucked like this and finishing-- you would never let history repeat itself again. Toge removes his cock from inside you, holding your hips immediately to make sure you didn't lose your balance.

"Thank you..." you whispered, your voice slightly raspy from your exhaustion and the sex. But when you thought it was done, Toge turns you around to face him and lifts you up. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, while his hands held you up from your ass. "Toge! W-what are you--?"

Your back meets with the cold wall, and Toge's hands house themselves in the bend of your knees. His cock finds his way back into you, and begins to fuck you mercilessly. His purple eyes watched your body, biting his lip at the sight of your bouncing boobs and the way he was fucking you.

You, however, felt light headed from ecstasy. Your eyes stayed rolled at the back of your head. Your pussy was hot from the overstimulation. You had just came, and Toge was planning to do it again. He was fucking you with the same pace, his cock pushing out your juices at every thrust. "t-too much-- baby, i-it's too much...!"

Your words quickly escape you, only strings of curses and overwhelmed grunts. But Toge was relentless, railing you while keeping eye contact. His cheeks were rosy, his hair completely drenched and sticking to his forehead. His lips were slightly agape, taking in air in desperate breaths. He then winked at you before pressing his torso completely against yours.

His lips found its way to your ear, his jagged breaths tickling it. But then, it happened. "cum for me," Toge demands in a breath, your body contorting immediately from his words. Nails dug into his back, toes curling profusely. You felt your warm juices spill out of you, your pussy twitching around his cock, your body writhing in his hold. Then, in seconds, Toge came as well, filling you to the brim with his warm, sticky cum. He coughs a bit, but he slowly pulls out of you and gently places your feet back on the ground.

You had no words, relying on Toge to finish showering you, wrap you up in a towel, and carry you to the bed. He sits you down on the corner of the bed before running to get you a shirt from his drawer. You slowly slip into it, your eyes following your lover as he dried himself off before finding his own pajamas to slip into.

You continued to watch him as he went to turn off all the lights in your apartment except for the bedrooms. He returns to you, pulling out the covers and pulling the blanket over your body. Toge joins you, taking you into his arms as he rubbed the back of your slightly damp hair.

"Toge?" You ask quietly. He looks at you in your eyes, anticipating your words. "Was that your first time, um... doing that?" Purple eyes don't dare flicker as he nods silently. "Please... please keep doing that."

With a wide smile, a satisfied Salmon leaves his tongue.

a/n: i hope this was good xo. pls continue to fill my inbox with your horny fantastics here (im begging)

[zackfairmutual]

horse girl harlock confirmed!

[mrspiastri]

✩ feed me, please? 🍛

pairing: lando norris x desi!reader

cw: fluff

wc: 4.2k words

an: i know this is the longest i’ve vanished for but IM BACKKK 😁😁😁, and ty for the req :D

It was a sort of ritual the two of them had developed. One they didn’t find the need to really speak into existence, since it had simply become a part of their lives.

Every Monday, when Lando would return from whatever country he’d been racing in the previous night and back to Monaco, Y/N would wait up for him.

It didn’t matter how late he arrived, or that she had work in the morning and should have gone to sleep at a reasonable time like a sane person. Unfortunately, she was anything but sane, especially when it came to him.

The same boyfriend who was on his way home from Melbourne, still riding the high of the 5th win of his career.

He was supposed to be home by 3 in the afternoon, but it seemed that his weekend’s luck had run out, and his flight was rescheduled for later, which meant he wouldn’t reach home until nearly 9 at night.

Y/N pretended she wasn’t disappointed when he texted her about the delay, but it was hard not to be. As silly as it sounded, she loved spending as much time with him as possible whenever his schedule allowed it. The fact that their time together tonight would be cut down left a small pang of sadness in her chest.

But if anything, it only made her more determined to give him a proper welcome home.

Before she got to work, she made sure everything was ready: the banner (which was just three giant craft sheets taped together with “Congrats Lando!” written in big letters), the balloons she had single-handedly inflated (after sorting out the orange and black ones, of course), and the cake she had baked, now cooling on the kitchen counter.

The smell of incense lingered faintly in the air, the last remnants of the sandalwood incense sticks she had lit earlier in the evening. It wasn’t really a ritual, but something she did out of habit; her mother always said it kept the house feeling calm, like a reset for the week ahead. The warm, woody scent mixed with the delicate fragrance of her jasmine plant, which sat in the window, its small white buds blooming beautifully in the evening breeze.

Lando always said their home smelled different. Not like the crisp, cool air of a hotel or the artificial scents of air fresheners. It smelled lived in. A mix of filter coffee, coconut oil, and the lingering floral scent of their fabric softener. Something distinctly her.

She smiled at the thought while grabbing a small steel tumbler, pouring a little warm milk into it before adding a spoonful of crushed almonds. He wouldn’t ask for it, but she knew how exhausted he would be after the long flight. And she knew he’d drink it anyway, especially if she handed it to him without a word.

As she finished icing the cake, she debated making a quick chicken curry and rice, just in case he wanted a proper meal instead of reheated leftovers. Her sister would call her mad for putting in so much effort at this hour.

Maybe she was, but it didn’t seem to deter her in the slightest. She glanced at the time on her phone, still a couple of hours before he’d land. That gave her more than enough time. She turned to the kitchen, tying her hair up with her trusty claw clip, rolling up her sleeves.

Y/N chopped the chicken, then got the pan going with some oil, mustard seeds, and crushed garlic. Once they sizzled, in went chopped onions, then tomatoes, and a mix of turmeric, red chilli powder, coriander, and garam masala. No measuring, just by feel, like she always did. The kind of cooking that lived in her muscle memory.

After the masala cooked down, she added the chicken, gave it a good mix, and added hot water for a light gravy. While that simmered, she rinsed basmati rice and set it on the stove.

Within minutes, the kitchen smelled like home; spices, garlic, and something warm and familiar. The curry bubbled gently on the stove, the rice nearly done.

It was simple, but it was his favorite. And hers too, if she was being honest. If there was one thing she learnt in her years of being with Lando, it was that he had the palate of a child.

As everything cooked, she leaned against the counter, tired but content. She could already picture Lando walking through the door; backpack slung over one shoulder, hair a little messy, eyes half-tired but lighting up when he smelled the food.

He always pretended to be casual about it, but she’d caught him sneaking seconds more than once. And every single time, he’d mutter something like, "How is this better than the curry your mum makes?" with a pout that made her want to roll her eyes and kiss him at the same time.

Y/N let the chicken simmer, rice already done. Just as she was stirring up the pot, she heard the sound of the door rattling.

“Shit!”, she whispered before quickly switching off the heat and rushing to open the door.

The door pushed open, and Y/N was greeted by the sight of a tired Lando, curls messy, shoulders slumped, and eyes droopy. However, all that changed the second he laid eyes on her.

🪻🪻🪻

The moment the door creaked open, Lando stepped inside, his body nearly folding under the weight of exhaustion. His shoulders sagged, backpack slipping halfway down one arm, curls flattened from hours in transit, eyes barely staying open.

And then he saw her.

There, in his home that had slowly become theirs, barefoot and glowing in the soft light, standing with a crooked smile on her face. Dressed in her favourite cotton kurta, with a pair of loose pajamas.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with fatigue, but there was a warmth blooming in his chest that no amount of tiredness could dull.

Y/N shrugged like it was nothing, like her heart hadn’t spent the entire day planning how to make him smile.

“Your fifth win deserves some sort of celebration,” she said lightly. “Even if it’s kind of lopsided.”

His eyes flicked to the “Congrats Lando!” banner that barely hung on by tape, then to the ridiculous orange and black balloons huddled in one corner of the room. He laughed under his breath, a little stunned by the quiet love in all of it.

He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, dropping his backpack to the floor without a second thought. She fit perfectly against him, her hair smelling faintly of jasmine, her skin warm against his travel-chilled hoodie.

“You sorted the orange ones out, didn’t you?” he mumbled into her hair.

“Obviously.”

He didn’t say anything for a second, just held her there in the quiet, letting himself breathe her in. Letting himself come home.

God, he loved her.

It hit him in the simplest moments, much like this. Not when the cameras flashed, not when he stood on podiums, not even when he scored his career highs. But when he walked into a house that smelled like her hair oil and home-cooked food. When she looked up at him with that stupidly soft smile like she’d been waiting all day just for this.

When she handed him the little steel tumbler, he realised he was some sort of spoiled prince. Which, of course, he totally was. At least when it came to her.

“You’re unreal,” he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

She raised an eyebrow. “For blowing some balloons?”

He shook his head. “For all of it.”

She tried to brush it off with a joke, but his nose twitched as the scent of something familiar drifted from the kitchen. His stomach growled audibly.

“Is that... chicken curry?”

“Maybe,” she said, trying not to grin.

Without hesitation, he made a beeline for the stove, lifting the lid of the pot like a man possessed. The smell hit him full force; spiced, rich, comforting. It was like a hug in the form of food.

He turned back to her, eyes wide. “Are you actually trying to ruin every meal I’ll have for the rest of the year?”

“You act like you don’t live on frozen pizza when I’m not here.”

“Exactly,” he said, trying to scoop a spoonful of the gravy and blowing on it. “So how do you expect me to go back to that after this?”

Y/N quickly smacked his hand away, making him playfully frown. “First go freshen up, and change out of your airport clothes.”

Lando groaned dramatically, dragging his suitcase toward their bedroom like a sleep-deprived child. “Fine, but only because you bullied me into it.”

She kissed him once more before gently pulling back, brushing his curls away from his forehead. “I encouraged you, big difference.”

With him out of sight, she got to work garnishing the curry; fresh coriander chopped finely, a squeeze of lime to brighten the gravy, and a pinch more garam masala because she knew exactly how he liked it. The rice had steamed perfectly, each grain separate and fluffy, and she spooned it neatly onto a plate, ladling the chicken curry beside it so the gravy soaked into the rice just enough.

🪻🪻🪻

Just as she was setting everything onto the table, Lando reappeared, now in a pair of soft grey joggers and a worn tee. His curls were damp from a quick shower, and his eyes looked just a touch clearer, though the tiredness still clung to him in the way his shoulders sagged.

He sniffed the air like a cartoon character following the scent of a freshly baked pie. “I could smell it in the shower. You’re evil.”

She raised a brow as she placed the plate down in front of his chair. “You say that like I didn’t just make your favorite meal.”

“You did. That’s the problem.” He collapsed into the chair, groaning softly as he looked at the food. “It looks amazing, love. Smells even better.”

She leaned over, ruffling his curls with a smug smile. “Eat, before I make you reheat it yourself.”

He stared down at the plate for a second, then looked up at her with the softest, most exhausted expression on his face.

“Babe?” he said quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Can you…” He scratched the back of his neck, then blinked at her, boyishly shy. “Can you feed me? Just a little? I’m so tired.“

Y/N stared at him, half amused, half exasperated; but mostly endeared. This man, this world-class athlete, who just hours ago had stood on the podium in front of thousands, was now looking at her like a sleepy toddler who needed to be tucked in and hand-fed dinner.

“You’re unbelievable,” she muttered affectionately, sitting down beside him.

“But lovable,” he quipped, resting his chin on her shoulder briefly.

She had just reached for the spoon, before Lando whined again. “Babe, not with the spoon,” stretching out the last few consonants of the word.

“How else do you expect me to feed you dummy?,” she asked.

“With your hands, please. It always tastes better when you do it.” He mumbled in response, almost embarrassed about having to make the request.

She rolled her eyes, already using her fingers to mix a bit of curry and rice, scooping it gently and holding it up to his lips. “Open.”

He obeyed without hesitation, sighing contentedly the moment the food hit his tongue. “Oh my God,” he mumbled with his mouth full, eyes fluttering shut. “That’s actually insane.”

She laughed, shaking her head as she made another bite. “You say that every time.”

“Because it’s true every time,” he said, swallowing. “This is the best thing I’ve eaten in weeks.”

“Liar,” she said, feeding him again. “You were probably at some five-star place two nights ago.”

“Exactly. Five stars. No love. This? Ten stars. All love.”

Y/N paused for just a second, letting his words settle in her chest. Then she smiled, softer this time, brushing her fingers against his cheek as she fed him the next bite.

“I missed you loads, Lando.”

His eyes met hers, warm and heavy with everything he couldn’t quite put into words.

“I know,” he whispered. “I missed you more.”

She let her thumb linger on his cheek for a moment before pulling it back, scooping up another bite of rice and curry. She held it out to him wordlessly, and he leaned forward, taking it into his mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world; like being fed by her, like sitting here in their cozy kitchen after a race weekend, was his idea of perfect.

He chewed slowly, savoring it like she’d plated a Michelin-starred dish just for him. Maybe to anyone else, it looked simple. A plate of rice, curry, and love. But to Lando, it felt like everything.

And that look in her eyes. Soft. Steady. Like no matter how many countries he traveled through, how many podiums he stood on, or flights he boarded, this would always be his favorite place to land.

“Do you want some?” he asked suddenly, his voice low.

She raised a brow, amused. “I’ve been tasting while cooking.”

“But that’s not the same,” he murmured, reaching for her hand and gently guiding it to her lips. She blinked, but he nodded. “Come on. One bite for you.”

She rolled her eyes but took the bite anyway, and he grinned like he’d just won again.

They sat like that for a while. Him slouched in the chair, head tilted toward her shoulder, letting her feed him slowly, in no rush. Between bites, his fingers brushed hers, thumb tracing soft lines over her knuckles. He liked the way her skin felt against his; warm, familiar, grounding.

“Do you ever get tired of being this perfect?” he asked between bites.

Y/N snorted. “All the time. It’s exhausting.”

Lando chuckled, eyes closing for a second. “I mean it though. I don’t know how I got this lucky.”

“You made a left turn at the right time,” she teased.

He smiled, but there was a weight behind it. A softness. He reached out, his hand gently resting on her knee, thumb drawing small circles through the fabric of the pajamas she was wearing.

“I don’t say it enough,” he said quietly, “but thank you.”

“For what?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“For waiting up,” he replied, looking into her eyes. “For cooking. For decorating. For always being here when I come… and making it feel like home.”

Y/N looked at him for a long second, heart fluttering at the honesty in his voice, the way he said it like it was sacred.

She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Always,” she whispered.

He smiled again, a little sleepier now, letting his head fall to her shoulder as she fed him the last few bites. His hand slid from her knee to her waist, fingers curling into the soft fabric of her kurta. His plate was nearly empty now, but he looked up at her with those warm, sleepy eyes and that signature little smirk tugging at his lips.

“I’d marry you just to have a lifetime supply of your cooking… but also because I love you.”

Y/N blinked, her heart stuttering just a little at how sincere he sounded; sleepy-eyed and warm, but somehow managing to look at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

She smiled, playful but touched. “So I have to feed you forever, is that what you’re saying?”

Lando grinned, eyes lighting up. “Don’t worry,” he said, tugging her a little closer, “I’ll always be there to do the dishes.”

That made her laugh, properly laugh, the kind that made her eyes crinkle and her shoulders shake. “Wow,” she said through a grin, “a man who loves me and does the dishes? Are you trying to make me cry?”

Lando didn’t let go of her hand, not even as her laughter softened and the air between them settled into something quieter, gentler. His thumb traced slow, lazy circles over her skin, and his gaze never left her face. It was like he was memorizing her all over again.

Y/N tilted her head, still smiling, still flushed, and leaned in to kiss his cheek, light and lingering.

“I do adore you,” she murmured, the words simple but full, warm like the kitchen around them. “And not just because you do the dishes.”

He grinned. “That’s just a bonus?”

She nodded. “A very attractive one.”

Lando chuckled, nuzzling her nose for a second before she finally pulled away, brushing her hands on her thighs as she stood up.

“Alright,” she said, moving toward the counter, “stay right there. I have one more thing for you.”

He watched her curiously, chin resting in his palm, eyes following every step she took as she reached for something just out of sight. And then she turned around, holding the cake in her hands with a proud little smile.

It wasn’t perfect, the icing was a little uneven, and the sprinkles were slightly chaotic, but it was hers. Homemade, thoughtful, and filled with every bit of love she hadn’t quite managed to put into words. The top read ‘Yay Lando!’ in shaky icing letters, and there was a tiny, uneven attempt at a checkered flag drawn in the corner. And to top it all off, she added a few candles on the cake, that crackled merrily.

His heart swelled instantly.

“Y/N…” he said softly, sitting up straighter, “you made that?”

“I tried,” she laughed, placing it gently on the table in front of him. “I know it’s not fancy or anything, but you won. Again. And I’m really, really proud of you.”

Lando stared at the cake for a second longer, then up at her; and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at her like she hung the moon.

“I love you,” he said again, quieter this time. “And this… this means more than anything anyone else could’ve given me.”

Y/N’s eyes shimmered a little, but she smiled through it, reaching up to brush back a strand of his hair. “I’m just glad you’re home.”

🪻🪻🪻

He reached for her hand again, tugging her gently onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist as she melted into him.

“I could stay like this forever,” he said, almost to himself, his thumb brushing across her waist.

Y/N gave him a fond smile. “But then who would go win races and wear ridiculous helmets?”

Lando laughed, and the sound made her heart flutter. “Still worth it,” he teased, before his voice turned soft again. “But even if I’m halfway across the world, this is what I come back to. It’s what I look forward to. Always.”

She leaned down to kiss him gently, her lips lingering over his like she wanted to tell him everything without saying a word. When they finally pulled apart, he was smiling, just barely, in that lovesick way that made her feel weightless.

“Come on, blow out the candles, unless you want a bit of melted wax in your cake.”

He complied, blowing them out, not before making a wish. Lando couldn’t tell anyone what the wish was exactly, but he knew whatever it was involved Y/N.

“Now how about you feed me a slice of that cake you made. You know… since you’re already on a roll tonight.”

She rolled her eyes playfully but reached for the knife anyway.

“Fine,” she said, cutting him a generous piece. “But only because you’re cute. And jet-lagged.”

“And madly in love with you,” he added, flashing her that boyish smile she could never resist.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said through a smile, holding up a bite for him.

He chewed the bite slowly, savoring it like it was some five-star dessert, even after she mentioned she made it with a box mix. None of that mattered to him. It was hers. She had made it with her own two hands, for him, after working all day, after waiting up when she could have easily gone to sleep. And somehow, it tasted like comfort. Like love.

Lando leaned back in his chair with a soft groan, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before glancing over at her. She was still watching him with that shy smile, her fingers brushing off a crumb from the corner of his lips without even thinking about it. So casually intimate. So them.

“Okay, that was amazing,” he said, nudging her foot with his under the table. “But now that you’ve stuffed me like a turkey, tell me about your day, hmm?”

She blinked at him, surprised. “Mine?”

“Yes, yours,” he said, nudging her foot again. “You always ask about my races, my media stuff, my training. And I love that, but I’ve missed hearing about your day. I want to know everything.”

Y/N’s eyes softened as she gave him a look that was both amused and touched. “It wasn’t very exciting.”

“I don’t care,” he said, sitting up straighter now, resting his elbow on the table and his cheek against his fist like a boy trying to stay awake in a lecture; except his smile made it clear he was genuinely interested. “Tell me anyway. Start from the top.”

She exhaled a short laugh, shaking her head. “Fine… I woke up late because I stayed up finishing a report. Barely had time to make coffee, but your mum texted me a photo of your podium, and that made my morning.”

Lando grinned. “She’s obsessed with me.”

“She’s proud of you,” Y/N said, smiling too. “She’d asked if I’d recorded your post-race interview, and I had. So I sent it to her.”

Lando chuckled. “You’re the best.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, nudging his leg. “Then work was the usual chaos. Back-to-back meetings. I forgot to eat lunch until like three.”

His expression turned mock-scandalized. “Love, no!”

She rolled her eyes with a small laugh. “Relax, I ate something. Just… not real food. I had chai and a couple of biscuits.”

He leaned forward, frowning slightly. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You’re literally the one who travels across time zones and survives on protein bars and Monster Energy.”

“Yeah, but I’m used to being irresponsible,” he teased. “You’re the responsible one. Keep the balance.”

She rolled her eyes, but her thumb instinctively brushed over his knuckles. “Fine. I’ll eat better tomorrow.”

“Good,” he said softly, intertwining their fingers.

There was a beat of silence as they just sat there, fingers laced together across the table, the candlelight flickering gently and the warm scent of cardamom and jasmine still clinging to the air. He studied her face like it was his favorite thing in the world, because it was.

He pressed his face into her hair, breathing her in. It smelled like home. Not in the way his childhood home had, or even the flat he’d bought in London years ago. No, this was different. This was the scent of freshly washed sheets with a hint of her shampoo, of incense smoke that lingered even hours after it had burned out, of something sweet always cooking in the kitchen even if she swore she hadn’t touched sugar in days.

Everywhere she went, she left traces of herself behind. And he had slowly grown addicted to them.

He hadn’t expected this with her. Not at first. She was so different from the life he was used to, warm where the world was cold, thoughtful in a way that caught him off guard. She didn’t care about the race results, or the interviews, or the trophies. She cared if he ate, if he slept well, if he remembered to call his mum on Sundays.

And God, the way she loved him, without ever having to say it all the time. She just did. It was in the stupidly lopsided banner and the way she had sorted through a pack of balloons to only pick out McLaren colors. It was in the glass of warm milk she had set aside, because she knew he wouldn’t ask, but that he’d drink it anyway. It was in the smell of curry floating in the air, the kind that reminded him of nights curled up on the couch with her legs thrown over his, pretending not to be bored of watching the same movie for the eighteenth time.

She made this house feel like more than just walls and furniture. She made it feel safe.

And he, in his messy, often selfish, fast-paced world, had somehow found himself right in the middle of the kind of love people only dreamed about. The kind that didn’t come with fireworks and grand gestures, but instead existed in quiet, unwavering loyalty. The kind that tasted like rice and chicken curry at 11 PM on a Monday. The kind that made you want to come home, no matter how far you’d gone.

He looked at her, really looked; hair tied up in that claw clip she refused to throw out, sleeves rolled up, tiny flour smudge on her cheek from earlier, and his chest ached with how much he felt.

This wasn’t a phase. This wasn’t a fling. This was his future.

And he didn’t need to say it out loud to know that she already felt the same. Because in that kitchen, with the last crumbs of cake between them and tired smiles on their faces, they weren’t just in love.

They were building a life. And neither of them would trade it for anything.

phew, this is so gross. this is what happens when two clingy individuals start dating. god bless. pls send in some reqs from my prompt list if u would like to see some more!! thx

[archivequinn]

i loved your fic where reader cries and eddie calms her down as a thoughtful romantic caring boyfriend. i wonder if you could write something like that again. short or long, it doesn't matter. <3

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked it, I hope you like this one too. I did my best.

Nightmare eddie munson x fem!reader, fluff

summary: when you have a bad dream, your boyfriend eddie takes care of you at midnight, calms you down.

Falling asleep in Eddie’s trailer always gives you a different kind of peace. The bed is small, but Eddie’s presence makes you forget all the tightness. The faintly trembling walls of the trailer and the sounds of crickets outside add a strange serenity to the night. You’re wearing one of Eddie’s oversized sweatshirts; it still smells like him, that unique scent—slightly spicy and a bit woody.

Underneath, you’re wearing one of his boxers, because Eddie had grinned at you and said, “I love seeing you in those.” On the other end of the bed, he’s sleeping in just his boxers, the faint light of the trailer highlighting the contours of his shoulders. He’s breathing easily and deeply, completely at ease.

The night had started off sweet. The spice of the hot chicken wings you ate earlier still leaves a burning sensation at the corners of your lips. After that, you’d cracked open a couple of beers and laughed hysterically at an absurd horror movie Eddie had picked. His deep, slightly raspy laughter still echoes in your ears.

You fell asleep feeling drunk on this peacefulness, but at some point, a dream pulled you in. Everything felt so real. You were losing Eddie. Right before your eyes, he was disappearing, as if turning into a shadow and vanishing. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t stop him. You wanted to scream, but your throat felt tight, like it was constricted. You took a step forward, but the ground was slippery, your hands reaching out to grasp the cold void.

You jolted awake with a gasp of fear. The trailer was dark, with only a faint orange glow from a streetlamp filtering through the edge of the window. Your breaths were rapid, your chest rising and falling. You turned to Eddie beside you. He was still there. His back was to you, his hair spilling over his shoulders, rising and falling gently with his peaceful breaths. The weight on your chest eased slightly, but tears welled in your eyes for a moment. Losing him for real… the thought alone sent shivers through you.

Unable to resist, you placed your hand gently on his back. Your palm felt the warmth of his skin. It was as if this simple gesture reassured you: “He’s here, next to me.”

Eddie stirred slightly at your touch, lifting his head from the pillow and mumbling sleepily, “Hey... everything okay?”

The warmth and concern in his voice instantly softened you. “I had a dream,” you said, your voice still trembling.

Eddie, without opening his eyes, reached back to pull you into him. The weight of his arm around you melted all your fears. “I’m here,” he murmured softly. “The dream’s over.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, your nose burying into the curve of his neck. His scent, Eddie’s presence, the tiny world inside the trailer... it was all real.

You wrapped your arms tightly around him, letting him draw you even closer with a sleepy smile. Your heartbeat began to steady. As he drifted back to sleep, you simply listened to his breathing. You were afraid of losing him, yes. But this moment, his presence, kept you safe.

Your breaths became uneven, and then, without realizing it, tears started slipping down your cheeks. The warm droplets trailed down your face, and for a moment, you tried to hold them back, but it was futile. The impact of the dream ran so deep, leaving a weight in your throat that you couldn’t shake.

When Eddie noticed the quiet sobs escaping you, he quickly turned. His half-asleep face was suddenly filled with concern. “Hey, hey... what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice soft and gentle, though his eyes showed a flicker of panic.

You couldn’t find the words, shaking your head as you wiped at your eyes with trembling hands. But that only made you cry harder. Eddie didn’t hesitate. Sitting up, he pulled you into his arms, pressing you against his chest. “Shh... it’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmured, his lips brushing over your hair. “Don’t be scared, I’m here. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

His voice was as soft as a whisper but carried a soothing strength. He held you like that for a while, his palm gliding gently over your back. Even as you were wracked with sobs, he stayed patient, waiting for you to calm down.

Finally, taking a deep breath, you whispered hoarsely, “I had a dream about losing you.”

Eddie pulled back slightly, his hands on your shoulders as he looked into your eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes of his, still heavy with sleep, were full of love.

“Me?” he asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, sweetheart. Look, I’m still here. Still your silly Eddie.”

You nodded with a faint smile, though your tears kept falling. Eddie noticed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Come on, let’s wash your face. This beautiful face isn’t meant for crying this much,” he said, gently helping you out of bed.

When you reached the trailer’s tiny bathroom, Eddie grabbed a towel and turned on the tap. The water was cold, but it was enough to cool the warmth of your tears. He soaked the towel and pressed it gently against your face. “There we go,” he murmured. “Fresh start. No more crying, okay?”

You tried to laugh lightly, but a shiver still lingered. Eddie noticed and rolled his eyes playfully. “Oh, so I guess this is my fault for picking that stupid movie? I told you it’d give you nightmares.”

“Eddie!” you protested, lightly swatting his shoulder with a small laugh. Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “Hey, I’m innocent. It was probably those chicken wings cursing us. They were way too spicy, probably fried our brains.”

He handed you a glass of water. “Come on, drink up. Crying dehydrates you.”

When your shaky hands struggled, he held the glass with his own, guiding it to your lips. “There you go. One more sip.”

Then he led you back to the small sitting area. Before heading back to bed, he sat on the floor, pulling you down beside him. His fingers combed gently through your hair as if trying to brush away all your fears. “You need a new hairstylist,” he teased, tugging playfully at a strand before tickling your side.

“Eddie, stop!” you whined, but he didn’t seem to care. “No, no, this face owes me a smile,” he declared, fingers trailing to your ribs as he tickled you. You tried to resist, but it was no use; laughter bubbled out, and the darkness of the dream faded into lightness.

Finally, you leaned against him, still giggling. Eddie finished smoothing your hair before resting his head on your shoulder. “I promise you,” he said, his voice low and serious. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll never leave you.”

In that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude to have Eddie by your side. No matter what, you knew he would always make you feel safe.

taglist: (the only one 😅🧡) @nicholaschavezslut69 If you want to be added to my fic's taglist, just let me know. ✨

[cinder-stella]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐭 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐭!

multiverse fluff, slice of life, comedy

<MDNI>toji,satoru,kento,choso,sukuna<MDNI>

Across countless timelines, you utter the same words, “We’re just getting one thing.”

Only one thing at home depot. Seems simple enough, right? Just in and out. No distractions.

In every timeline, the man beside you says, “Yeah, sure. Just one thing.”

That's a lie. They all lie.

──✿──

TOJI

Mission: Find a socket wrench.

You step inside Home Depot with Toji, hoping to buy a basic wrench. But then you blink and he’s gone. No explanation. No warning. Just the faint remnants of cologne that he sprayed on quickly before leaving the house.

You find him twenty minutes later in the Hunting & Outdoor section, crouching like a cryptid—his limbs too long and bulky to squat neatly. His shirt’s askew, hair tousled and he’s holding a roll of duct tape as if it’s speaking directly to him.

“This is the good kind,” he says without looking at you. “Industrial strength. Can restrain a grown man. Even hold a bumper on.”

"...We’re here for a wrench, Toji."

He ignores you and holds up a crowbar, testing the weight in his hand. “This one’s balanced. Nice grip. Could kill a guy.”

“That’s nice, sweetie. Definitely not alarming.”

You trail him as he tosses it into the cart alongside zip ties, work gloves and a beef jerky bag he’s already torn open and started eating. An employee clocks it from the corner of the aisle, starts to say something but then decides he values his life too much.

Toji pauses in front of a grill, stares at it like he’s yearning. “For the kid,” he mutters, tossing it in. “He’s gotta eat.”

You stare at the mountain of vaguely criminal hardware and protein snacks in the cart and run a hand down your face. “We came for a wrench. One.”

Toji shrugs. “And now we have a tactical advantage.”

You should’ve just ordered it online. “Alright, big guy. You’re paying.”

Toji swivels around with an eyebrow raised.

SATORU

Mission: Buy a shower head.

He walks in like he owns the place. As if the automatic doors opened just for him. Tall, smug, sunglasses indoors (as usual), and dressed like he’s on a luxurious trip instead of a store for plumbing fixtures.

“Now, this is a man’s store,” he announces, immediately drawing attention. “I love it.”

You sigh. “Satoru, please. Just one thing. We’re not here to mess around.”

He nods solemnly. “Of course. One thing. I’m laser focused.”

He is not.

Within five minutes, he’s critiquing paint swatches aloud like he’s on Project Runway. “This one says ‘murder in a pastel kitchen.’ This one screams ‘lower tax bracket.’ This one? Oh yeah, this one’s sexy. Like me.”

He strolls through the aisles with cocky grace, picking up tools and using them completely wrong on purpose.

He holds up two caulking guns like they’re pistols. “I could dual wield these,” he muses, making the sound and movements that actual guns make.

“Satoru.” You roll your eyes. “I’m so sorry,” you mutter to a nearby employee who seems just as annoyed.

At one point, he picks up a wood stain sample and says, “This one’s called ‘shit-brown in London.’ This one’s ‘porta potty walnut.’”

Eventually, you don’t know how, but he ends up wearing a tool belt and holding a pack of nails like he just came back from his blue collar job.

“How ya’ like me now?” he smirks and strikes a pose that looks eerily similar to Woody from Toy story.

“Not a lot,” you sigh.

In the end, you, in fact, don’t leave with a showerhead. but instead a novelty “#1 DIY DAD” mug and several useless gadgets.

“We should go to Lowe’s next.”

KENTO

Mission: Replace the leaky faucet.

Nanami enters Home Depot like he’s walking into a board meeting. Button-up shirt rolled at the sleeves, clipboard app open on his phone, and that furrow in his eyebrow that meant business.

“This should take no more than twenty minutes,” he says. “I’ve reviewed the layout online, and I know the exact model we need.”

On a completely sexual note, you loved seeing Kento in his sexy manly element. You fight the urge to bite your index finger and giggle like a school girl. “Ay, ay, captain.”

Ten minutes in, it seems like Kento hit a wall at high speed. He stands in the plumbing aisle staring at the different faucet models. The one he came for? Out of stock. The aisle signage? Mislabeled. The finishes? All brushed nickel when he clearly wanted chrome.

“Of course,” he mutters through clenched teeth. ““Every fixture here looks like it belongs in a chain restaurant bathroom from 2006.”

“What’s so wrong with brushed nickel? It’s a softer look,” you try input in a cheery tone.

He deadpans.

When an employee walks by and chirps, “Need help finding something?” Kento just breathes in slowly, as if it’s the poor employee's fault.

Eventually, you find him organizing a shelf that wasn’t crooked until he looked at it. He’s muttering about SKU numbers and poor inventory management like it’s the most important thing in the world.

“Babe. Honey. Sweetheart. We can just call a plumber,” you offer, gently.

He turns to you, jaw tight, voice level. “We are not letting a complete stranger touch our pipes. I’ll fix it myself or die trying.”

It’s kinda sexy…seeing him all worked up. Anyways, in the end you leave with a completely different faucet along with a pack of precision screwdrivers of course. Kento softly massages his temples in the driver’s seat.

You give him a kiss on the cheek. “You did great, champ.”

He doesn’t respond. But he does hold your hand the whole drive home.

CHOSO

Mission: Get one (1) bag of soil.

You tell Choso it’s just a quick stop. Grab soil, maybe a new pot. That’s it.

He nods solemnly. “Yeah. Got it.”

Well…Within five minutes of entering the garden section, he’s gone quiet. You briefly look around, thinking he’s wandered off but he was just kneeling by the succulents like they’ve been waiting for him.

He gently strokes a Mexican snowball. “This one’s thirsty,” he murmurs.

“Don’t they…store water?” you whisper.

“Thirsty emotionally.”

You try to stay focused. But every time you turn around, there’s a new plant in the cart. A string of pearls. Then a tiny bonsai. Then a pothos you’re pretty sure was dying until he whispered to it.

He picks up a discounted cactus—on its tag it reads, ‘Final Sale.’

Choso reads it, horrified. “They’re giving him away like he doesn’t matter.”

“He’ll be just fine. They’re very resilient, y'know.”

He stares right through you. Then he gently placed the cactus into the cart.

Somehow, you also now have three ceramic mushrooms, a gnome with moss on his hat, and a biodegradable watering can Choso swore would help the plants to grow.

“I don't think we have space for all this…” you huff.

He looks at you, completely serious. “I’ll make space.”

You did end up getting the soil. But also seven plants, a huge frog statue named Gorb and a bag of organic fertilizer.

At checkout, he pats the cart lovingly. “We’re a family now.”

RYOMEN

Mission: Buy a new toilet seat.

You should’ve gone alone.

You said it three times in the car. “We’re going in, we’re getting the toilet seat you broke, and we’re leaving.”

Ryomen nodded, “Sure, sure.”

Now he’s walking three steps ahead of you, dragging his hand along the displays like he’s inspecting the quality of weapons.

You try to steer him to the plumbing aisle but he keeps veering left. Obviously towards the chainsaws and other dangerous looking machinery.

That’s when it happens.

He makes eye contact with a kid. Maybe seven—rounds the corner with his mom’s cart. Toolbelt on and light-up Spider-Man sneakers.

Ryomen locks eyes with him. The kid looks back, unblinking.

There was mutual, immediate hatred.

You don’t know why and you don't ask. But you feel the air shift, the lights dim and somewhere, a wolf howls.

You whisper, “Please don’t start beef with a literal child.”

They pass each other. Ryomen bumps the cart just slightly.

The kid bumps it back harder.

“Ryomen,” you warn.

“He started it,” he growls back.

Eventually, you drag him to plumbing. He picks the most unnecessary toilet seat imaginable—heated, LED lights, Bluetooth connectivity, massage settings.

“Heated seats,” he says, tossing it in the cart. “I deserve luxury.”

You don’t even bother. You got what you came for.

Later, as you check out, you glance back towards the lumber aisle.

The kid is still there. Just staring.

Ryomen flips him off, ensuring that his mother was right there to see.

“Oh my god.” You grab his arm and quickly head to the front.

So, you did leave with the toilet seat and somehow an additional motion-sensor soap dispenser that Ryomen liked the sound of. Oh yeah, and an unspoken rivalry that will haunt one suburban child for the rest of his life.

Ryomen hums in the passenger seat. “I’ll see him again,” he says.

You don’t ask what that means.

──✿──

Somewhere in the multiverse, five versions of you all sigh at the same time.

You each mutter, with different levels of exhaustion, disbelief, and affection. “Next time…I’m going alone.”

But you surely won’t.

Because chaos aside, you do really love them.

…And to be fair you never really wanted just one thing.

ฅ^>⩊<^ ฅ

a/n: i rly enjoy this format. also taking a break from smut for a bit. lmk how u guys like it!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Look, Don't Touch 2

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, stalking, breaking and entering, possible blood and violence, and femcel energy. Tags are not exhaustive and more may be added as the series progresses.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get bored of watching and that makes you careless. (dark!reader)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Note: Well, well, well, if it isn’t another bad decision.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like snakes love Woody’s boots. Take care. 💖

Your hands are bound behind you, the belt looped through the bars of the wooden chair. Your stomach bubbles uneasily as you watch Bucky paw through your bag. This isn’t happening. How the fuck did you get here? He wasn’t supposed to show up! 

He throws your bag down as he holds your phone. He nears and turns the screen to face you. He waits and checks it. You don’t use facial recognition, the piece of shit’s too cheap to have that feature. He sighs. 

“What’s your code?” he asks. 

“Fuck off,” you snarl. 

His gloved hand balls and he grits his teeth, “don’t make this–” 

You kick out and your heel meets his crotch, his legs folding as he slips to one knee. He inhales with a gristle as he grips his thigh, barely keeping a hold on your phone. He clears his throat and stands. He slams the phone on the table and stomps out. 

You laugh but not for long. He’s back with duct tape. He tapes your legs to the chair and winds several layers around your waist. You shake your head and curl your lip. 

“Look, dude, it’s really not that deep,” you say, “it’s a grift. I squat. Just when people are out of town. I don’t take nothing and I leave everything as it was–” 

“You’re lying,” he taps your phone as he frowns, “and you can keep playing wise but I will figure you out.” He grins, “bingo.” 

He waves your phone, your wallpaper confirming it’s unlocked. You roll your eyes. 

“You should call the police,” you say. 

“So you can lie your way out of this? No thanks,” he swipes as he puts his hand on his hip and turns away. He stops pacing and brings the phone closer to his face. He grimaces, “you're a sick bitch, aren’t you?” 

He tuts and shows you the image of Steve fucking his one night stand. You laugh. “Me? What about your friend?” 

“I’d say the fact you recorded it is a lot more fucked up than him having a bit of fun,” he snorts, “you’re sly. I saw your equipment.” 

“Thanks,” you say smartly. 

“You’re not making this easy on yourself,” he says. 

“Well, you got your evidence so… police?” you divert. 

“You know what the police do to stalkers? Nothing,” he sneers. 

“Stalker? I told you, I’m a squatter–” 

“Enough with that,” he points at you sharply and goes back to scrolling, “hmm,” he hums then says your name aloud, grinning up at you. 

“So.. if no cops, what are you going to do?” you finally let yourself ask. 

“I know how to handle things internally,” he says, “so don’t you worry.” 

“Are you going to call Steve?” 

“Steve?” he scoffs, “you speak as if you know him. You don’t know shit. And no, got a lot more things more important than you.” He runs his gloved fingers over his stubble as the dimple in his chin deepens, “I gotta do some running around.” 

“I thought you were here to water the plants,” you taunt. 

“The ferns can wait,” he says, “you just sit pretty and I’ll be back soon.” 

He tucks your phone in his jacket and grabs his keys from where he dropped them on the table. He disappears into the hall and you heave. Well, what the fuck do you do now? 

The door snaps shut, the beep of the security system follows, and you’re left in silence. You look around the open dining room, the kitchen visible just through the next doorway. You pull at your hands, the belt digging into your wrists. You wriggle, the chair wobbling, as you try to twist your ankles free. 

You grunt in frustration as helplessness floods your chest. The chair tilts forward and you panic, swing back too hard and tip it over completely. Your head hits the floor above the back and it leaves you dizzy as you blink away stars. 

“Shittttttt!” you yell at the ceiling. 

📷

Bucky finds you on the floor. He does nothing to help as you crane to watch him. He puts down a black bag before he nears. He stands by the legs of the chair and kicks the bottom of the seat with his boot. 

“Bored?” he teases, “restless, maybe?” 

“I need to piss,” you huff, not a full out lie. 

“You can wait,” he leaves you there and you listen to his footfalls in dread. The whisper of the zipper as he stops. The rustle of unseen objects, pages flipping as his sole squeaks. 

‘I saw him again today,’ Bucky begins, ‘but he didn’t see me. He never does. I wonder how. Maybe I’m just that invisible.  

But I see him. I see everything he does. Even when he’s not there, I can’t stop. I think about him all the time. Sometimes I pretend my toys are him. Touching me, though I know he never will–” 

“Stop,” you growl, “now.” 

‘It used to be that I’d imagine anyone. Any man touching me, but now the thought of anyone else disgusts me.’ 

You’re quiet, humiliated. More angry than anything. You want to strangle him. You want to smack the smug look off your face you imagine in tandem with his mocking tone.  

“Stop,” you say again, “you think I don’t know what I am. Obviously, I know. I’m stupid enough to write it down.” 

He laughs and you hear the journal hit the table. He strides around the chair and stands beside you. He watches you, squats to look you in the face. 

“No, I don’t think you realise how fucking sad you are,” he says, “how pathetic.” 

“You think you’re the first to tell me,” you sneer, “I know, asshole. But I never hurt anyone and wasn’t going to start. I just watch–” 

“Break and enter as well, huh?” He smirks, “I mean, you can tell a lot about a person by where they live. Found out a hell of a lot about you, doll.” 

“Don’t call me that,” you hiss. 

“Small place,” he stands, “cramped. Guess a rat like you doesn’t need much. Couple packs of ramen and a bottle of vodka. I had better rations in 1944.” 

“What about Hydra? They feed you well?” you retort. He’s silent. “Hit a soft spot? I’m sure a cyborg like you didn’t need much.” 

He kicks the chair and it jolts you. It’s your turn to laugh. He puts his foot on the crossbar and swings you back up to four feet. You teeter but stay upright, chafing in your bonds. 

“You really are that stupid, aren’t you?” he chides. 

You shrug and glance at the wall, “I really do need to piss.” 

“You think you’re going to get out of this one?” he asks. 

“I just want to go to the–” 

“I’m not worried about you making a run for it, doll,” he leans against the table and slides a thumb in his pocket, “I mean, what do you think is going to happen here? You think I’m gonna give you a lecture and let you walk?” 

“Haven’t thought about it really,” you say flippantly, “guess I assumed you’d revert a little. Clean up the problem the way you used to do when you had that red star stamped on ya–” 

Suddenly, he’s in front of you. His hand is on your throat as he bends to snarl, “shut your fucking mouth or I’m gonna break it.” 

You grin as you choke down air and make a show of clamping your lips together. You raise your brows and he stiffly rescinds his hand. He rounds the chair and tears through the tape before unbuckling the belt. Your arms fall loose but he grabs you by the back of your neck, pinching so you cry out and claw at his hand. 

“I squeeze any tighter and I’ll do some real damage,” he warns as he guides you to your feet, “then you won’t be running anywhere ever again. Got it?” 

“Sure,” you grit out as pain ripples down your spine. 

He grunts and urges you into the front room and down the hall. He enters the bathroom with you and flips up the seat. He releases you and takes a step back, a hand on the counter as he stares. 

“Um, a bit of privacy?” 

“You go now or not at all,” he demands, “so…” 

You exhale sharply and turn, unbuttoning your pants as you focus on the wall. You push your jeans down and sit, a slight pause before you manage to trickle out just a little. Your bladder releases and the pressure relents, leaving you lighter but not relieved. You wipe, pull your jeans up as you stand, and flush. 

He grabs your arm and yanks you back into the hallway. His metal grip makes your muscles burn as he drags you on. You glance across the front room, the doors not that far.  

You push your toe under the carpet so it catches and you stumble, pulling him back with your unexpected falter. “Hey, stay on your f–” 

You stomp his toe and he recoils as he grunts. You spin awkwardly, barely staying up right as you scramble away. You knock over the tall vase by the doorway as you flee. He tackles you from behind and you plummet forward, hitting the floor as he lands on you. You wheeze as your ribs ache beneath his weight. 

“Jesus, you’re fuckin’ heavy,” you snarl into the hardwood. 

“And you’re fucking stubborn,” he raps his knuckles on the back of your skull as he pushes off you. He plants his feet on either side of you and lifts you, both hands on your arms as he steadies you, “stupid, too.” 

You scoff as he urges you back down the hall and shoves you through to the dining room. His hand crawls up to your neck and he bends you over the table. You growl and kick out your feet as you pick at his impenetrable grip. 

“Like I said, had some running around to do,” he reaches into his bag with his free hand, “got some things to keep you in line.” 

He circles his fingers around your wrist and a metal cuff expands around it. Then he does the same to the other. He lets go of you and steps back. You straighten as he takes out his phone and taps the screen, your wrists snap together behind you, as if magnetised. You struggle as the force sets you off kilter. 

“Neat little gadget, usually reserved for sinister individuals but they’ll do for you too,” he frames your shoulders and angles you around, urging you back into the chair, “since you want to make this interesting.” 

You scowl and say nothing. He really is annoying. He goes back to his bag and reaches in again. He returns to you and secures another pair of cuffs around your ankles. You try to kick out as he does and he squeezes your leg meanly. You snarl and sit back angrily.  

He pushes a pin into each leg of the chair and stands. He picks up his phone again and your ankles attach to the wooden legs. He rounds you and parts your wrists, pulling them between the bars and letting them snap back together behind them. 

“We’re gonna be here a while and I’m not in the mood to be chasing you around,” he goes to the table and sets his phone down. 

He peels off his jacket and drapes it over another chair. He sits and retrieves the cell, his thumb moving lazily across it as he ignores you. You furrow your brow. There’s no give in the restraints. 

“Not exactly how I wanted to spend my night,” he grumbles as he smirks at you, “not that I had any plans.” 

“No plans? A gem like you? How are the girls not lining up?” you roll your eyes. 

“You’re one to talk, aren’t you?” he scoffs. 

You shrug and sit back. You’re starting to feel the toll of the night; stuck in that chair, pinned under his weight, the knock to your head. You’re tired but you can’t let him see it. 

📷

The smell of food makes your stomach growl. You can’t remember the last time you ate. It’s a bad habit. You eat only when it hurts and it fucking hurts. 

Bucky sits at the table with his paper bag and cup and eagerly peers inside. You try not to stare, instead focusing on your lap. You salivate as your guts knot with temptation. You listen to the rustle of wrappers and Bucky moans as he takes his first bite, chewing loudly. 

You exhale through tight lips. It’s deliberate, you know it. It’s his specialty, isn’t it? Torture? Cruelty? You peek up from beneath your lashes as he scarfs down a mouthful of fries. 

“Oh, you know what,” he sits back and grabs a napkin, wiping his fingertips, “I didn’t even think. I should’ve ordered you some. You must be starving.” 

“I’m fine,” you insist as you drop your gaze and your stomach rumbles loudly. 

“Sounds like it,” he slurps from his cup, “we’re all human, so if you’re hungry, all you gotta do is ask nicely–” 

“Human? You?” you look at his left arm, concealed under his henley and gloves, “sure. I told you, not hungry.” 

“Alright,” he grabs the burger and takes another sloppy bite. You turn your face away and ignore the pangs deep in your gut. “You really should consider a bit of common decency,” he says through a mouthful, “make it easy on yourself.” 

“Why’s that?” you mutter, shoulders sore from the awkward position as you try not to lean back on your arms. 

“I don’t have to be an asshole,” he says. 

“Really? You have more than one mode?” you snip. 

“What do you think’s gonna happen when Steve gets here?” he asks and shoves the last bit of his burger in his mouth. He watches you as he chews. 

“Does it matter? What I think or what happens?” you glower, staring at the faded denim of your jeans. “You saw my apartment, you think I have much to lose?” 

“You’re alive,” he ventures. 

“If that’s what you call it,” you laugh darkly, “so, that’s it? He’s gonna kill me? You lost your spine or something?” 

“You’re pretty self-aware for someone so pathetic,” he remarks as he shovels up more fries. 

“My sole virtue,” you say mockingly, “at least I know what I am.” 

“Do you? Do you really understand how fucked in the head you are?” 

“I should ask you the same,” you counter. 

He laughs and scoops up some more fries, “right, well, these next few days are going to be fun.” 

He stands and cleans up the garbage, shoving it all into the paper bag. He crumples it as he goes into the kitchen and you hear the lid of the bin as he tosses it. The light flicks off as he returns and he nears you. You sit rigidly as he grabs the back of the chair and tilts it back. 

He drags you out of the dining room and into the living room without a word. He shoves the coffee table over with his foot and puts you right in front of the couch. He lets the chair fall to four feet and strides away. 

You watch him as he makes up the couch with a sheet tucked around the cushions, a pillow against the arm, and a blanket on top. He pushes his head to one side than the other, a loud crack releases the tension. He sits and unties his boots, sliding them off as he focuses on the task. 

He strips down to his briefs and undershirt, as if you’re not even there. He settles onto the couch with a sigh, a bit too big for it but unbothered by that fact. He shifts as he plays with his phone and a voice suddenly rises from the speaker. He puts it on the back of the couch and lets it play, some narrative of a forgotten battle. He folds his arms behind his head and sighs. 

“Helps me sleep,” he smirks as he closes his eyes, “might help you too… if you can get comfortable.”