#THE WAY HE TOUCHES CLAUDIO ARM

[mjfass]

[trashytracktales]

Okay i don’t know if you’re still receiving requests so 😭 but i absolutely ADORED inked and it actually inspired me for a request and you’re literally the only one who could give it justice. hopefully😔

so imagine reader not being able to cum for the past few times they had sex, maybe because she was stressed for work/exams/adult life and she hasn’t told lando because she feels bad for it and she doesn’t think it’s his fault. so when he finds out there’s a lil discussion and he PROMISE he SWEARS he will make it his mission on earth to help her to get out of her head and relax and enjoy herself and what they’re doing and he’s like WHATEVER IT TAKES you will orgasm again i promise, even if it takes all night!!

so he’s a man on a mission and when he succeeds they have their best sex ever and she’s having the best orgasm of her life! fireworks !!!!! 🥹🥹

The finish line | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── So… ✌🏻😗 I usually go with the flow when I’m writing, and for this one, it felt right to leave it at THAT (you’ll see). Don’t worry, there are fireworks and Lando achieved his goal. However, I felt it in my bones to keep this one leaning more on the emotional side, because sometimes, less is more. Enjoy!!

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⤿ PREVIOUS LN⁴ ONE-SHOTS: Inked, Winning hand, Seasons change.

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. ݁₊ ⊹ summary ──── While Lando is sound asleep after a passionate night together, she wakes up restless and frustrated, unable to ignore the weight of her own insecurities.

. ݁₊ ⊹ pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

. ݁₊ ⊹ rating ──── explicit

. ݁₊ ⊹ category ──── F/M

. ݁₊ ⊹ warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, smut, mentions of sexual frustration and insecurity, emotional vulnerability such as crying and self-doubt, masturbation, obsessive behavior, fingering, swearing, use of praise and mild dominance, begging & desperation, overstimulation.

. ݁₊ ⊹ word count ──── 4.5k

. ݁₊ ⊹ date ──── Jan. 29, 2025

. ݁₊ ⊹ a/n ──── I know I sound like a broken record, but I don’t want you guys to think that I’m lying. THIS is the current state of my inbox:

Just know that I am trying, but at the end of the day, I’m literally just a girl 🎀 If I didn’t post your request yet, thank you for your patience, I’ll eventually (hopefully) get to it.

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THE BEDSHEETS ARE rumpled, and there is a faint scent of sweat and sex that lingers in the air. Lando sleeps peacefully on his stomach, his arm draped lazily over her waist. His soft snores are the only sound that animate the room, but inside her head, her thoughts are louder.

It’s late, and she should be exhausted; well, she is, but mostly on a mental level. Her body feels heavy and restless, the glow of their earlier intimacy only temporarily satisfying a more deeper need that refuses to fade, no matter what she does. Her skin feels hot, especially where he touches her, and her mind races with thoughts she can’t control.

At this point, it’s been too long.

She shifts in different positions, and when it gets too much, quietly, she slips out of the bed, careful not to wake Lando, and pads her way to the bathroom. The cool tiles under her feet send a shiver down her spine as she closes the door behind her with a mellow click.

She splashes cold water on her face, hoping that she’ll wash away every little doubt that way. The shock of it is prickling her skin, but it does little to cool the constant heat simmering beneath the surface. Involuntarily, her thighs press together in a failed attempt to soothe the ache that refuses to dissipate.

Small droplets of water slide down her cheeks as she raises her head, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her lips are parted, her breathing uneven, and her eyes betray the storm churning inside her. It’s become an obsessive ritual, one she can’t seem to give up until she gets all the answers. The shame coils tight in her stomach, a mix of desperation and anger at herself.

Why couldn’t she just let it go?

Why couldn’t she figure out what was wrong?

Her reflection doesn’t offer any of those answers — only a silent, maddening reminder of how close she always gets before it slips away, like sand through her fingers.

She lets out a frustrated exhale, while grabbing a towel from the rack with trembling hands, shaking it out before folding it in half and laying it on the floor. Carefully, she lowers herself onto it, her back pressing against the cold porcelain of the bathtub. The chill bites at her skin, but it keeps her guarded. She pulls her knees up slightly, legs spreading just enough to give her the space she needs, the vulnerability of the position making her heart race. Her fingers tremble as they trace the edge of the oversized t-shirt she’s wearing, closing her eyes to gather the remaining pieces of her patience.

The bathroom is tenderly lit by a single lamp above the mirror, casting a silver glow on her flushed face and the sheen of sweat clinging to her skin.

Weakly, she starts circling her fingers with increasing desperation, her slick heat betraying the arousal that never seems to reach its peak. Her breaths grow shallow, her movements frantic, but no matter how hard she tries, the pleasure stalls, hovering just out of reach. Irritation claws at her chest as her thighs tremble, the pressure building only to evaporate moments later, like a cruel joke.

Tears blur her vision as she slows, finally giving up, her head falling back. A sob escapes her lips, her mind spiraling into dark thoughts, and she pulls the towel tighter around her as if it can shield her from her own failure.

Back in their the bedroom, Lando stirs. His hand instinctively reaches out to her side of the bed, but the cool, empty sheets pull him out of his catatonic state. Half-asleep, his head lifts as he scans the room, his hair mussed and eyes hazy; it’s the faint, muffled sound that wakes him up completely. A muted cry, that he’s easily able to recognize.

His heart lurches, and he’s on his feet instantly, tugging on a pair of boxers. He follows the sound to the bathroom door, pressing his ear to it. The cries are clearer now, but they’re not purely sad — they’re mixed with hushed panting.

His brows knit together, and without thinking, Lando knocks. “Everything okay, love?” his voice is thick with sleep and worry.

She doesn’t answer.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Lando insists, tightening his grip on the doorknob.

Inside, she’s too caught up in her own world to hear anything else. Her hands finally drop to her sides as she lets out another defeated sob, the tears spilling freely on her cheeks. She feels raw and vulnerable, unable to understand why her body is betraying her like this.

Sounding more concerned now, Lando knocks harder this time. “Babe, I’m coming in, alright?”

The door creaks as he steps inside, and the sight before him makes him stop in his tracks. She’s sitting there, legs spread, flushed and teary-eyed, her chest rising and falling in erratic breaths. His mind takes a second to catch up to what’s happening, his gaze flickering from her damp cheeks to the towel beneath her and then finally to the source of her breakdown.

Her eyes widen when she realizes she’s not alone anymore, and she quickly moves to close her legs, her face burning with embarrassment.

“Lando—” she begins, but her voice dies in her throat.

He’s frozen for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest, but then he steps closer, crouching down in front of her. His hands reach for hers, gently prying them away from where she’s trying to cover herself.

“Don’t do that,” says Lando in a tender voice. “What’s going on, babe? Talk to me.”

She looks away, the shame too much to bear. “I don’t know,” she stammers, her voice a small whisper. “I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” he prompts gently, brushing a stray tear from her cheek.

She lets out a shaky exhale, avoiding his gaze. “I’ve been trying so hard, but I just—I can’t finish,” she admits finally, her voice breaking.

Lando’s expression softens, and he cups her face, tilting it up to meet his eyes. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asks, his voice low but laced with concern.

She laughs dryly, “And say what? It’s fine, Lando. I didn’t want to bother you,” she replies, sniffling. “You were sleeping so peacefully, and I thought I could just handle it myself.”

His lips quirk into a tiny, understanding smile. “Baby, you’re never a bother to me,” he murmurs, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. “You know that, right?”

She nods weakly, her lips trembling as fresh tears threaten to spill. Lando doesn’t hesitate, sitting down beside her on the bathroom floor, the cool tiles pressing against his bare legs.

His hand moves tentatively to her knee, but he stops just short, his eyes searching hers. “Can I touch you?” he asks patiently.

Her nod is almost imperceptible, but it’s enough for him. He places his hand on her knee, his thumb tracing soothing circles over her skin. He’s quiet for a moment, trying to figure out how to approach the situation, but his concern outweighs his uncertainty.

“Come on, baby. It’s just us,” he says, his tone earnest. “What’s really been bothering you?”

She hesitates, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her — his — old t-shirt. The weight of the truth feels too heavy, but his steady presence makes it easier to breathe.

Finally, she exhales shakily and confesses, “I… I haven’t had an orgasm in three weeks.”

Her words hang in the air, and Lando blinks, his brows furrowing in concern. “Three weeks?” he repeats, raising his eyebrows in surprise, as if he’s trying to wrap his head around it.

She nods again, her eyes fixed on the floor. “Look. It’s not you, Lando. I love being with you, and I love the way you make me feel,” she pauses, her voice trembling, and the tears come again, “I think something’s wrong with me. I’m so—I’m sorry, this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Her shoulders shake as she cries, and Lando’s heart breaks, seeing her in such distress. He shifts closer, wrapping his arms around her gently, his hand resting on the back of her head.

“Don’t do that to yourself,” he says in a soothing tone. “There’s nothing wrong with you. I promise.”

“You don’t know, Lan,” she sobs into his chest, her hands clutching his bicep. “I... don’t know what else could be wrong. I just. I feel broken. Every time we’ve been together these past few weeks, I’ve tried so hard,” she trails off, the weight of her words crushing her.

Lando feels something dark coiling in his chest as the realization settles like a heavy weight in his gut. Weeks. She’s been suffering in silence for weeks, lying beneath him, taking everything he gave her, and still unable to let go. His fingers twitch with the need to fix it, to wipe away every trace of frustration she’s felt, to drag her into a pleasure so deep she forgets this ever happened. But on the outside, Lando stays calm; he can’t let his frustration show, because this isn’t about him. This is about her. And he’s going to make damn sure she never has to feel like this again.

But… how could he have been so clueless?

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asks in a weak tone, pulling back just enough to look at her.

“I didn’t want to ruin things for you,” she admits, her voice barely audible. “You’ve been so busy lately, and I didn’t want to add to your stress. But it’s not your fault,” she reassures him. “It’s not. It’s me, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

Her words cut through him, and he shakes his head, his hand cupping her cheek. “Stop saying that, you’re not doing anything wrong,” says Lando firmly, his voice filled with conviction. “God. Whatever this is, it’s not on you, okay?”

She sniffles, her lip trembling as she looks up at him. “But it feels like it is. Like my body’s just failing me all of a sudden.”

Lando’s jaw flexes, and he feels a sudden pang of anger — not at her, but at himself for not paying enough attention. For being so blind.

“I’m sorry I was so busy and distracted. I should’ve known something was off,” he sighs, voice filled with regret. “I feel so bloody stupid for not noticing how much you’ve been struggling.”

“You’re not—” she says quickly, but he cuts her off.

“No, baby. I should’ve seen that you were hurting.”

Her breath hitches at the sincerity in his voice. “I didn’t want you to see. It’s fine, just… I don’t know what am I supposed to do now,” she whispers, her voice losing intensity.

Lando’s words come out so determined next time he speaks, “We’ll take our time, and we’ll work through it together.”

She looks at him, wanting to believe him, but she’s too caught up in her own head. Without thinking, her hands start trembling as they push against his chest, desperate to get some distance.

“No,” her voice is cracking. “No, you deserve better than—gosh, this so unfair. I’m always so close, and then I lose it. This never happened to me before.”

She covers her face with her hands, squeezing her eyes shut and hoping that next time she’ll open them, everything will get back to normal. But she knows it’s not that simple, so she stays like that, pressing the bridges of her palms on her eyelids until she sees white, sparkly dots.

Lando stiffens momentarily, the weight of her words sinking in. Her pushing him away stings, but he doesn’t let it show, and he doesn’t let it deter him, either. Instead, Lando leans forward, wrapping his arms around her from behind, holding her close even as she tries to fold in on herself.

“It’s okay. We’ll get to the bottom of it,” he whispers, “Just, please. Don’t shut me out.”

She feels his steady embrace, his scent and warmth enveloping her like a protective blanket. “I don’t know what to do,” she admits again and again, hoping that she’ll eventually find an answer.

Lando presses a kiss to the top of her head and tightens his hold. “Is there something I can do? Right now? Something to make you feel even a little better?”

The question hangs in the air for a few seconds before she exhales shakily, attempting to lighten the mood with a weak, joking reply, “I’d like to have an orgasm,” she mutters with a sad laugh, but the vulnerability in her voice betrays her attempt to make light of the situation.

Lando pauses, his lips parting slightly. She feels his chest rise and fall behind her as he takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he says simply, his tone laced with quiet determination.

She turns her head to look at him, confused. “What?”

Instead of answering, he adjusts his position so that she’s sitting between his legs. His hands come to rest on her arms, and his touch is light on her skin, as if silently asking her to put her trust in him.

“Just relax,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against her ear. “Let me take care of you.”

Her shoulders tense at first, but as his hands begin to move, caressing her arms with deliberate care, she allows herself to calm down.

“You don’t need to prove anything to me,” the girl tells him, tilting her head slightly to meet his eyes. Her hand comes up to cup his jaw, her thumb brushing over his cheek. “You’re always in my mind, Lando. Always.”

Her words make his stomach flip, but he shakes his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. “That’s good, baby. But I can’t stand the thought of you feeling this way. Not when I can do something about it. So, let me try.”

He dips his head to kiss her neck, slow and measured, his lips warm against her skin. She shivers, goosebumps spreading across her arms as his hands travel up her sides, cupping her breasts lightly through her shirt. His thumbs brush over her nipples, teasing through the fabric, and her breath hitches.

“Lando…” she breathes, but her protest is weak.

“Shh,” he whispers, his lips still moving against her neck. “Let me.”

With a gentle tug, he pulls her shirt up and over her head, tossing it aside. Her bare back presses against the heat of his chest, and she leans into him instinctively, her body relaxing further. One of her hands reaches back, resting against his thigh, while the other remains on his jaw, her thumb tracing his skin absentmindedly.

His kisses grow lazier, deeper, taking his time to savor her, his hands still exploring her body with quiet reverence. When his thumb brushes over her bare nipple this time, her breath catches, and a soft moan escapes her lips.

“Better?” asks Lando quietly, the question laced with affection and a hint of teasing.

She doesn’t answer with words, only nodding as her eyes flutter shut, her body leaning fully into his.

“You’re safe with me,” he assures softly. As his lips linger on her shoulder, his hand moves lower, tracing the curve of her stomach.

Her body tenses momentarily before melting into him again, exhaling sharply when his fingers trail lower, featherlight, until they dip between her legs. He feels the slight tremble in her thighs as her body reacts, and she instinctively parts her legs for him, granting Lando all the access he needs.

Her gaze drops to his arm, watching as the veins stretch under his skin with every movement. The strength in his hand contrasts with the careful way he touches her, and she can’t help but marvel at the sight. Almost instinctively, her hand moves to cover his — not to stop him or to slow him down, but to ground herself in the moment, to feel the reality of him there with her.

“Don’t think too much, yeah?” Lando instructs her, his breath warm against her. “Focus on me. I’ve got you.”

Lando’s fingers part her folds, and he has to close his eyes at the heat and wetness he finds there, evidence of the frustration and need she had been battling. When his thumb brushes against her clit, he feels it pulse under his touch, sensitive from what she had been doing before he walked in.

“Wanna see how responsive you are?” he asks with a teasing smile, pressing his thumb firmly against her clit without moving it.

She gasps silently, but he keeps his hand steady, his other arm holding her securely against him.

“Easy, baby,” he says, his tone as soothing as ever.

He holds the pressure for a few seconds, then finally rubs slow circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Her breathing deepens, her legs shifting as he repeats the motion: firm pressure, then slow strokes, over and over. The rhythm he sets is almost hypnotic, and he feels the tension in her begin to ease as her arousal builds.

Once a new wave of wetness slicks his fingers, his lips twitch into a satisfied smile, “See that? Such a good girl,” he praises gently.

She whimpers at his words, her hips bucking slightly against his hand. He adjusts his grip, keeping her in place as his fingers move lower, teasing her entrance. He doesn’t push inside just yet, only circling the sensitive area, feeling the way her body squirms and trembles in anticipation.

“Relax for me,” he reminds her, his tone almost pleading, “I’m not going anywhere until I make a mess of you.”

She does as he says, but a soft, desperate cry still manages to escape her lips. Her arm wraps tightly around Lando’s neck, pulling him closer, her lips ghosting over his jaw as her breathing grows uneven. He presses a kiss to her temple, whispering words of encouragement, while his fingers explore her with dexterity.

“That’s it, feel me,” he soothes, his tone gentle yet commanding. “Don’t think.”

He finally pushes a finger inside her, but only the tip, teasing her repeatedly. He feels her walls soft and pillowy as he pumps it in and out, and she feels the stretch on her hole somehow differently. When he pulls out completely, her pussy clenches around nothing, instinctively trying to keep him there.

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, and he presses his lips against her hair, smiling. “There goes your needy little hole,” he says, his voice filled with quiet admiration. “Told you there’s nothing wrong with you, baby. It’s all in your pretty head.” Lando pauses, his hand still as he tilts his head closer to hers. “Let me clear it for you.”

With that, he pushes his finger all the way in this time. Her sudden gasp hits his jaw, her hips jerking forward at the sensation. He knows it’s not enough, though the way he feels her walls fluttering around him, tells Lando he is on the right path.

“Look how perfect you are,” he praises, his voice a warm caress. “You were made for this, weren’t you?”

Without warning, he adds another finger — just to prove his point — stretching her and going deeper than before. Her moan is breathless, her head tipping back as her hips grind into his hand. Lando groans, feeling the slick warmth of her around him, and the way she reacts to every little movement.

“There it is,” his low voice catches her attention, “Feel that? That’s all you, my love. You just needed to be reminded of how incredible you are.”

He finally sets a rhythm, curling his fingers just right, and her cries turn into something more profound, a broken whimper of relief and pleasure as he works her open with care.

Leaning in, Lando is capturing her lips in a urgent kiss. His tongue slides against hers, coaxing soft moans from her as his fingers keep pumping in and out of her slick heat. He spreads her wetness over her puffy folds, his other hand moving to her chest, teasing and pinching her nipple until it hardens under his touch. He’s deliberate in his movements, having one clear goal in mind: to overwhelm her senses, to pull her away from the pressure of the finish line and make her fall in love with the journey.

His fingers scissor inside her, stretching her further, before curling again, brushing over the spot that makes her cry in pleasure. He presses the bridge of his palm firmly against her clit, applying just enough pressure to have her legs trembling against him. Her breathing turns erratic, her chest rising and falling quickly as the excitement starts to blur the edges of her thoughts.

Lando’s hand never falters, burying his fingers in and out of her with just the right amount of force, the wetness between her thighs making everything slick and obscene. But then, just as the wave begins to crest, he stills. His hand stops and she cries out, her walls protesting around him, as if trying to pull him back into motion.

“It’s okay, you’re doing so well,” he continues with his praise. “We’re close, yeah?” asks Lando rhetorically, waiting, feeling her body tighten and then gradually relax.

Then he starts again, the rhythm maddeningly slow.

Her moans grow louder, more desperate, but just as she teeters on the edge again, he stops once more.

“Fuck, Lando. Please,” she chokes out, her hips jerking against his hand, trying to create some friction. “I can’t—please, let me have it,” her voice is drenched in frustration and need.

He hums against her neck, savoring every sound she makes. “You know I will, baby. But you need to trust me,” he says, voice steady, his fingers suddenly resuming their pace. “You don’t want to disappoint me, do you, pretty girl?”

Her whole body shivers, her thighs trembling around his hand as she shakes her head frantically. “No,” she whimpers, “I won’t—please, please. I’ll do anything, just don’t stop again.”

The desperation in her voice tugs at something deep in him. He feels guilty, seeing her so wrecked and desperate after holding this pressure inside for weeks, but when her slickness grows, coating his fingers and hand, he knows she’s on the brink. He can physically feel it.

Smiling, Lando leans over, pressing soft kisses to her flushed cheek, talking tenderly against her skin, “Make me proud,” he whispers, his voice thick with affection and lust.

And that’s more than enough.

Her release comes in a rush, hitting her like fireworks as she cries out his name, her body spasming uncontrollably around Lando’s fingers. He keeps working her through it, whispering praises against her skin while her nails dig into his forearm, anchoring herself to him as the weeks of frustration dissolve into pure, blinding pleasure.

“Beautiful,” says Lando, dipping his head to kiss her.

He bites her lower lip, tugging it between his teeth before soothing it with a soft lick. Then, with a sly smirk, he shoves his tongue back into her mouth, tasting the soft gasp she lets out.

He attacks her senses from every direction — his hand between her legs, the other on her chest, his lips consuming hers. The pressure on her clit, the way his fingers still curl and stretch inside her, the heat of his body pressed to hers — everything feels right again. She’s finally losing herself, over and over, her mind emptying of everything but the way Lando feels, and the way he’s making her feel.

Just like he promised.

Her lips part against his, and the only thing she can think to say it’s his name, that escapes in a broken, breathless cry.

Her cheeks are flushed, the heat spreading through her body like wildfire. The wet, slick sounds of his hand working her fill the bathroom, blending with her breathless moans and the occasional low rasp of his voice. She feels the telltale pressure building once more in her lower abdomen, the one that makes her toes curl and her thighs tremble. And then, like clockwork, the fear starts to creep in — the same fear that’s stolen her release before.

Sensing the shift in her breathing, Lando reminds her, his voice impossibly soft, “You can,” he encourages her, “One more, baby. Look how well you take my fingers.”

Her chest heaves as she finds the strength to glance down, her half-lidded eyes catching the hypnotic way his hand works between her legs, his fingers disappearing into her again and again. The sight is enough to make her stomach tighten, and when her gaze lifts, she meets Lando’s.

He’s already looking at her, his eyes dark with desire but impossibly gentle, filled with reassurance and love. That’s what does it — their unyielding, pure connection. Her second orgasm crashes over her without warning, the intensity pulling a cry from deep within her chest.

“Lando, yes!” she moans, her voice breaking as she clings to him, her body shaking uncontrollably. “Oh my—”

He doesn’t stop, his fingers working her through the overwhelming waves of pleasure. She’s crying, tears slipping down her cheeks, but these are different — they’re tears of relief; liquid euphoria.

The towel beneath her is soaked, her release spilling out in waves, and Lando lets out a low, approving groan as he feels her gush against his hand. “That’s my good girl,” he says proudly, kissing her temple as her cries fade into breathless whimpers. “Look at you. So perfect, baby. You fucking did it.”

She collapses into his chest, her body utterly spent, her mind hazy from the high of finally letting go. And for the first time in weeks, she feels nothing but peace.

Lando keeps her close, his lips brushing against her temple in the softest of kisses, waiting for her to come back to herself. She exhales shakily, the steady thrum of his heartbeat calming her.

Lando tilts his head down, his curls tickling her cheek as he insists, “Next time you feel like this, come to me. Don’t keep it in, baby. We’ll work it out together like we did now,” his words are definitive, the weight of his love for her wrapped around every syllable. He leans back slightly to look at her, his eyes soft but unwavering. “The perfect fit, you and I, right?”

She lifts her gaze to meet his, and he smiles, his dimples peeking out as his hand brushes a strand of hair from her face. “Thank you,” she says. “For knowing me better than anyone.”

“That’s because I love you, silly,” says Lando, his lips grazing hers in a featherlight kiss. “And loving you means taking care of you. Even when you don’t know how to let me.”

Hearing Lando’s words, a flicker of shame creeps in. She realizes she should have told him sooner. They’re a team — they always have been. And yet, she let herself spiral alone, convinced this was something she had to fix by herself.

Before she can dwell on it too much, Lando peppers more kisses to her temple and cheek, his voice deliberately teasing, but laced with something undeniably serious, “Let’s go back to bed,” he says, helping her up. “I’ve got three weeks to make up for, and I don’t plan on wasting a second.”

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Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2025

[ethereangel222]

all yours

© @nicholasachavez

nicholas alexander chavez & cooper koch x reader (anyone can read!)

part ii | part iii premise Caught in a passionate, unconventional relationship, Y/N navigates the love and desire between two very different men.

cw suggestive

Reblogs are highly appreciated.

PART I

The three of you had always had this easy, unspoken rhythm. Nicholas with his playful charm, always quick with a joke, and Cooper with his quiet, more thoughtful presence, the two of them balancing each other out. And then there was you, somehow finding your place between them, where their differences and similarities intertwined in ways that made your heart race. It wasn’t something any of you had planned, but here you were, in Nicholas’ apartment, the city humming outside the window, the soft glow of candles flickering around you.

Nicholas leaned back against the headboard, his dark eyes watching you both with that familiar teasing smirk. His fingers played lazily with the hem of your shirt as you sat between him and Cooper, his touch warm and grounding. “You’re too quiet tonight,” he spoke softy, brushing his lips against your ear. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

You felt Cooper shift beside you, his hand resting on your knee, thumb gently stroking circles into your skin. Unlike Nicholas, Cooper didn’t need to fill the silence with words. His presence spoke enough. Steady, comforting, always there when you needed it. His eyes flickered to you, and there was that shy smile of his that always made your heart skip.

“I’m just…” You trailed off, glancing between them, feeling the heat of both their gazes on you. It was moments like these, when the reality of being caught between them, of being theirs, felt almost overwhelming. “I don’t know… maybe I’m still trying to wrap my head around how lucky I am to have both of you.”

Nicholas chuckled, his hand sliding up your side in a lazy, sensual way that had your breath hitching. “Lucky, huh?” He leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck, his lips warm against your skin. “I think we’re the lucky ones.”

You tilted your head back slightly, giving in to his kiss, but your hand sought out Cooper’s, needing the grounding touch of his fingers lacing with yours. Cooper’s lips curled into a soft smile as he watched Nicholas work his magic, his own hand gently squeezing yours. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek, his lips brushing against your temple in a featherlight kiss.

“You’re everything we didn’t know we needed,” Cooper whispered, sending a shiver down your spine. He was never one to push, always patient, always letting Nicholas lead when it came to these moments. But when he spoke, his words had a way of sinking deep into your heart.

The dual sensations of Nicholas’ lips on your skin and Cooper’s hand holding yours sent a wave of warmth through you. It was overwhelming but perfect, like you were caught between two flames. One burning hot and fast, the other slow and steady. You let out a soft breath, feeling the weight of their affection settle over you like a warm blanket.

Nicholas’ kisses grew more heated, his hand slipping under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin. “You’re ours,” he murmured against your neck, his tone low and possessive in a way that made your pulse race. “Don’t forget that.”

Cooper shifted beside you, his hand moving to cup your cheek, turning your face toward him. He kissed you softly, his lips gentle and careful, the contrast to Nicholas’ fiery touch making your head spin. “We’re right here,” Cooper whispered against your lips, his hand sliding to the back of your neck. “Always.”

The connection between the three of you felt electric. Nicholas, with his playful grin, tugged you closer, pulling you fully into his lap while Cooper pressed in from behind, his fingers trailing down your arms in a way that made you feel surrounded, cherished. They were both so different, yet somehow, they completed each other — and you.

Nicholas’ lips found yours, his kiss hot and demanding, while Cooper’s hands moved in slow, sensual patterns along your skin, his touch a quiet reminder of the depth of his feelings. You moaned softly into Nicholas’ mouth, your hands tangling in his hair, but when you pulled back for breath, you turned toward Cooper, needing to kiss him too.

Cooper’s kiss was always more tender, more deliberate, as though he was savoring every second of it. He cupped your face in his hands, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, feeling Nicholas’ hands still on your hips, holding you tight between them.

“You’re ours,” Cooper murmured, echoing Nicholas’ earlier words. He rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “And we’re yours.”

Nicholas smirked, leaning in to press a kiss to your shoulder, his hands sliding under your shirt again, sending shivers through you. “I think it’s time we showed you just how much that means.

Before you could respond, Cooper turned to Nicholas, his expression soft but determined. There was a moment of silent understanding between them, a lingering tension. Then, to your surprise, Cooper leaned in, his hand resting on Nicholas’ cheek as he kissed him.

It started slow, tentative. But soon, the kiss deepened, the air between them charged with the same heat that had enveloped the three of you. You watched, breathless, as Nicholas responded eagerly, his hands gripping Cooper’s waist, pulling him closer.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them turned their attention back to you, eyes dark with affection and desire. Nicholas grinned, wiping his thumb across his lips, while Cooper gave you that shy, endearing smile that you loved so much.

And in that moment, surrounded by their touches, their kisses, their love, you knew you were exactly where you belonged.

[luneariaa]

✧ ombre di testimoni.

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : claudio serafino x fem! reader.

✰ 𝐰. 𝐜. : 700+

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : let the shadows be the witness of the love you both have shared during nightfall.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : reader mentioned to be wearing a nightgown, fluff bc i miss him aughh,, and idk what i wrote for some parts lmao,,

. dividers by @/saradika-graphics !! 🌠

"It's getting late."

You spoke as your gaze landed upon the man who simply just arrived within your very own sight. Standing by the doorway, the gentle breeze passes by your nightgown, feeling it flow around you slightly at that moment.

He returned your gaze without any ounce of hesitation present; as if he's wholly observing your figure very much attentively. You're always so divine within his two eyes alone-- as if you're pure, untarnished by every evil and even human sins in existence alone.

But then again, he's the only one to truly know; have witnessed on how he could easily prove his thoughts otherwise.

"Have you eaten, cara?"

Ever so tender with his own choice of words, his slate blue eyes never once strayed away from yours; beginning to take a few slow steps closer.

"I was worried about you, looking all worn out, and you're worrying about me having eaten, or no?" Instead of annoyance, you simply huffed in tad bit of mirth, shaking your head slightly.

"To answer your question, I did eat a little. I couldn't eat properly if I'm not sure about you having eaten or no."

A faint smile ghosted over his luscious lips over your response.

"You don't have to do that, bella."

"If it needs to be done, then I'd gladly lose sleep or even starve for you, if I ever had to."

Claudio just wanted to mess with you for a bit, trying to gauge more reaction out of you. He couldn't help himself when you're standing in front of him looking all effortlessly gorgeous, while being all worried over his being.

It is a tiring day, indeed. But your presence made it at least far better than it is.

His head is tilted slightly downwards to face you, well-aware on how his tall, yet imposing figure alone manages to tower over you so easily. You allowed him into your personal space, your head tilted upwards slightly to meet his own.

"But I wouldn't want you to starve."

Your hands daintily reach up to caress his face underneath your fingertips; your touch alone is filled with utmost tenderness that could possibly scare all the demons away, tracing an outline across his jaw while his eyes are almost half-lidded, lingering over your face.

He makes you feel safe and protected.

And so, he returned your actions by placing his hands atop of your own, and bringing one of them down to interlock it with his own. None would be able to witness such a heartwarming moment that was being shared between the both of you.

Let the shadows of your silhouettes be the only witness.

Claudio relishes upon your appearance as a whole; drinking you in within his sole gaze.

"You look so, so beautiful, mia stella."

It feels as if he's shielding you from any possible harm that might get in the way at this very moment.

"But I believe that you deserved the title more, caro." You partly teased your Italian prince regarding his previous, genuine remark, whilst letting him do whatever he pleases, whether by his actions or even his words alone.

It caused him to grin so softly over your words, resting his chin atop of your head, now letting his strong arms to engulf you within a loving and warm embrace.

"No, my point still stands." He stated simply, as if not leaving any other room for argument.

"You belong in the museum, tesoro. But no, you're fated to be in my arms instead."

Slowly, Claudio pulled back just a bit, keeping his gaze remained towards you, placing a small peck upon your lips after.

"Oh, and if I were, are you planning to steal me away?"

He couldn't help but to chuckle over the veracity of your comment.

"If anyone ever had such a valuable, yet beautiful specimen within their possession, best believe that I will try to steal it away if it interests me."

"But then again, you're not owned by anyone on the day we found one another."

You giggled a bit as he finishes his mini speech, trying your best to cover up the warmth that gradually spreads over your cheeks-- but to no avail.

"You always have your own way with words, don't you?"

"But it is you, who made me naturally admit those words out like no other." Claudio removes one of his hands from yours; brushing several strands of hair away, just so that he could continue his undisturbed focus upon your features.

"There's no one to blame, tesoro."

"I'm simply a man in love."

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are alright. all rights reserved.

[honeydippedfiction]

Soft Launch

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WC: 1.2k

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Requested by @wrestlingbaby

Claudio Castagnoli had always been comfortable in the spotlight—after all, being a professional wrestler meant the world was constantly watching, critiquing, adoring, or jeering. He was used to the crowd, used to the cameras, the backstage banter, and the thousands of fans who would chant his name. But what he wasn’t used to was this slow, creeping sense of vulnerability that had begun to accompany him in a new, private part of his life. This was different. This wasn’t the spectacle of the wrestling ring. This was something… softer.

Y/N had slipped into his life quietly, without fanfare. They’d met months ago, at a mutual friend’s gathering in Brooklyn—a laid-back barbecue under a string of twinkling lights, the scent of grilled jerk chicken mixing with the hum of old-school dancehall music. She had that effortless presence about her—the kind that felt natural, like she was always meant to be the center of whatever space she occupied. Her dark, curly hair was tied up in a loose bun, her skin glowing under the summer evening, and her smile wide enough to make the entire backyard feel like it had just turned into an after-party.

Y/N introduced herself with a teasing smile. “Call me Y/N,” she said, as if it were some kind of inside joke, her voice carrying that soft Jamaican lilt that immediately made Claudio feel like he was in the presence of someone who had seen far more of the world than he ever would.

For a while, he wasn’t sure what it was about her. She wasn’t starstruck by him, which was rare. She didn’t care about his wrestling career; at least, she didn’t care in the way everyone else did. And that made all the difference. Their conversations drifted between everything and nothing—music, food, the ridiculousness of life on the road. Y/N had a wicked sense of humor, always teasing him about the ridiculous things he’d try to cook while living in various hotel rooms. “Are you sure that’s even food, Claudio?” she'd laugh when he'd send pictures of his latest culinary attempts.

But beyond that, she didn’t ask him about his matches or his fame. She didn’t need to. And that’s what drew him in. He didn’t need to perform for her. He could just be… himself.

Their friendship was easy, and gradually, something else began to take root between them. Texts turned into late-night phone calls, calls into weekends spent together in between his shows. There were no grand declarations, no rushed admissions of affection. It was a quiet kind of connection, built on small moments and small gestures that seemed to mean everything. A slight touch on his arm when they stood too close, the shared look when they both knew something neither of them wanted to admit. But still, they kept it mostly off the radar. Y/N’s world, her brand as she called it, was her own. And she was careful—too careful—to let people in on the details of her personal life.

She had a thriving social media presence—an Instagram that was polished, curated, but always with a touch of authenticity. Y/N was a master at navigating the fine line between sharing and protecting. Her followers adored her for it. Her photos were a mix of high-fashion looks, self-empowerment captions, and daily snippets that made her feel like someone you knew—someone real. But when it came to who she was with, that was always a mystery. The occasional post would feature someone in the background, their face always blurred or out of focus, their identity never fully revealed. And yet, Claudio began to notice how often his shadow would appear in the periphery of her life. A hand on his shoulder here, a half-smile there—just enough to make their followers ask questions.

Who’s that with you?

Is that your man?

The soft launches were almost too perfect. Nothing too obvious. Nothing too public. But then again, they weren’t hiding either. Y/N was subtle. She knew how to control a narrative, how to tease her audience without ever giving them what they wanted. Her life was her own story to tell, and when she was ready to share it, she would. Or maybe she wouldn’t. It was her choice.

Claudio wasn’t immune to the whispers of her followers. He saw the comments, the speculation. People who followed her closely had started connecting the dots. Some even tagged him in her pictures—Claudio Castagnoli, is that you?—but Y/N always deflected, keeping her secrets just enough out of reach to keep everyone intrigued.

“Your fans are really trying to figure us out,” Claudio remarked one night as they were scrolling through Instagram together in his hotel room. His thumb hovered over a comment that asked directly, Is this your boyfriend, Y/N? She laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made him feel warm inside.

“It’s cute,” she said, her eyes bright with amusement. “They think they know, but they have no idea.”

Claudio just shook his head. He’d never been one for drama, not the kind that came from people online. But with Y/N, it felt different. He was intrigued by her ability to keep the world at arm’s length while letting him in. He was fascinated by her. There was something magnetic about her quiet confidence, the way she could let the world look but never truly see.

Then came that night. The night it all shifted.

It was a humid, starlit evening in SoHo, at an art gallery opening neither of them had planned on attending but had somehow found themselves at, swept up in the chaos of an impromptu “night out.” Y/N had just posted a story, a behind-the-scenes look at the gallery’s installations. Claudio had been standing a few feet behind her when she’d glanced over her shoulder, catching his eye with a soft, knowing smile.

Without missing a beat, she snapped a photo—this time, no artfully angled crops, no oblique shots. Just them. Standing close, the glow of the gallery lights casting soft shadows over their faces, fingers lightly intertwined. A candid moment, genuine, unguarded. She didn’t caption it with the usual one-liners or vague references. No, this time, she simply wrote:

“He’s my favorite.”

It was simple. Elegant. And the moment it went live, the floodgates opened. Comments began pouring in:

“FINALLY.” “Y’all been lowkey for months, huh?” “I KNEW IT!! #PowerCouple”

Claudio smiled when he saw the post, feeling that familiar warmth flood his chest. He wasn’t surprised by the reaction—Y/N had known exactly what she was doing. But for the first time, the world could no longer ignore what was right in front of them.

Y/N wasn’t one to make grand gestures. She didn’t need to. She never played by anyone else’s rules. It was always on her terms. And Claudio respected that.

They didn’t need a press release or a public speech to define what they were. They didn’t need anyone’s validation. What they had was theirs, slowly unfolding in soft glimpses, never fully explained but always understood between them.

And maybe that was the most beautiful part. Sometimes, the story didn’t need a perfect ending. It just needed to keep going.

[duskandcobalt]

Time Will Be Frozen for Us

if you're like me and have a massive soft spot for slow and gentle domestic elriel moments, please allow me to present some cozy, elriel fluff for your holiday weekend 💗✨

ENJOY XX

1.1k words

Inspired by Sabrina Claudio’s ‘Frozen’

Read on AO3

Elain eased herself from Azriel’s arms, silently slipping from between the sheets and pulling his shirt over her head and down her body until it covered the gentle swell of her hips and the tops of her thighs. She tiptoed out of their room and into the small living area, carefully avoiding the floorboards she knew would squeak under her weight even if she knew the chances of accidentally waking him were low due to the exhaustion that resulted from the hours they’d spent coaxing pleasure from one another over the course of the night.

She made her way to the window that looked out to the woods. Snow fell heavily outside, blanketing the forest floor in a glistening, unblemished sheet of white.  Hazy beams of early morning light filtered through the shimmering, snow covered trees, illuminating the highpoints of her face as she tilted her chin upwards and chased the warm caress of the sun on her skin in an effort to preserve the heat she’d obtained from being tucked against the muscled chest of an Illyrian warrior for the past few hours.

It was a few days after Winter Solstice and Azriel had wasted no time upon Feyre and Rhys’ departure to their cabin before he whisked Elain away to this secret place of theirs for a singular night together, just the two of them.

Standing here now, Elain couldn’t help but think about how far she’d come since that first Solstice spent in this now-familiar body. Her heart, once splintered by a broken engagement, had slowly started to heal by then with the help of some hobbies and a few new friends - Nuala and Cerridwen… and the brooding male they reported to. A male whose stern features only ever seemed to soften around her. 

Elain had known since that first Solstice, since that night when he’d sat beside her and patiently listened to her explain her plans for the garden, that there was something between them. His unabashed laughter that evening, his sincere appreciation for her gift, had been the initial spark that lit the eternal flame of interest that would go on to burn steadily at the back of her mind, flickering higher and brighter each and every time his eyes met hers, until she could no longer stand to ignore it. 

Elain had come to think of Azriel like a book. She wanted to turn each of his pages, read him cover to cover. She wanted to memorise every word, lock away favourite passages for safe keeping. She was determined to know everything about him, wanted to devour him whole until there wasn’t a single part of him left unknown to her. She craved the time and space to allow herself to tend to what grew slowly and steadily between them.

It was made clear to her that Azriel felt the same - that he’d also realised that the heated glances and restricted touches that passed between them had rapidly outgrown the shadowed alcoves and cramped rooms they often found themselves in - when he’d winnowed her here for the first time six months ago, at the very beginning of summer.

She’d been shocked and delighted when he’d lifted his hands away from her eyes and she caught her first glimpse of the cozy cottage on the outskirts of Velaris, tucked away deep in a small patch of woods that she hadn’t even known existed.  

It was a gift from Azriel to her. A place they could escape to, somewhere far away from the ever looming threat of their secret being exposed. Here, they could pretend that they didn’t have to hide. Here, all the complexities of her mating bond ceased to exist. 

In this quaint cottage, amongst this thicket of trees, it was just them. A male, a female, and the sweet domesticity of a shared life.

It was the passing of a clean dish to be put away after a meal made and enjoyed together. It was his hand on her waist as he spun her around the tiny kitchen, his voice sweet as honey in her ear. Her soft laughter muffled by the skin of his neck. It was nervous confessions of obvious feelings in the middle of the night. Overwhelming emotion written plainly on both their faces, tears of relief shimmering in the light of a candle. 

It was leisurely walks in the woods, their joined hands buried deep in his coat pocket - unwilling to separate but desperate to keep warm. It was a roaring fire and a heavy blanket draped over their bodies, her icy toes pressed against his warm calves. It was a book falling from Elain’s fingertips, landing with a gentle thud on the worn wooden floor when the feeling of Azriel’s lips gliding along her shoulders won the fight for her attention against the words she’d been attempting to read.

Half a year later, neither of them could set their eyes on a single corner of the cottage without memories resurfacing of all the things that these four walls had witnessed. 

This sacred space commemorated the subtle trembling of his fingers as he undid the laces of her corset before he carefully laid her down for the very first time, watching as she fell apart for him. These walls stored her soft sighs and his deep moans. The whispered conversations in bed all the times after that initial night - Elain’s head on Azriel’s chest, his fingers tracing patterns over her sensitive skin as he patiently answered each and every question she had ever dreamt of asking him.

“Still snowing?” She’s pulled out of her thoughts by the rustling of wings and the sound of his voice, gritty with sleep.

“Pretty isn’t it?” She doesn’t turn to look at him but she could just about see his reflection in the glass - his dark hair tousled from the way she’d grasped it, his chest broad and bare.

“Beautiful.” Azriel’s arms slipped around Elain’s waist, pulling her back against his chest until he could rest his chin on the top of her head. She didn’t need to look at him to know that he wasn’t referring to the snow outside.

A soft smile found its way to her lips as she let her body melt into his, her delicate fingers mindlessly tracing over the scars on the large hands that now rested over her stomach as they both gazed out of the arched window and watched the snow fall.

She’d never been so grateful. For this place. For him. For the life they shared together, oblivious to the world around them. Seasons changed and time passed. Flowers bloomed and leaves turned colour. Trees, their branches once bare, were now covered in glittering snow. But whenever they were here, in this little cottage that had come to feel like home, time seemed to freeze solely for them. As if some higher power had paused the turn of Earth’s axis just to grant the Shadowsinger and his Seer the gift of an extra hour, an extra night spent together, lips grazing skin until the morning sun turned the sky the colour of the blush on her cheeks.

[romiantic]

DATING THE SPIDER CREW

→ INCLUDING hobie, gwen, miles, miguel

→ READING: black!fem!reader

→ GENRE + WARNINGS: fluff + ooc for gwen

→ A/N: ngl gwen + miles was my fav to write <3

𖦹 ₊˚. HOBIE BROWN

— when I think of hobie with his black partner, I usually think of opposites attract but with a hint of alt. like you would be an earthy person or a pink person and you’re just wandering town with your tall, punk bf. but you guys match so well, you guys compliment each other’s features and everybody (jokingly) question how you two ended together

— hobie very touchy-feely with his partners. I can imagine him teasing you any time, any day. you two could be chilling with tv playing in the back and here he goes leaving his hands on your stomach or poking your thighs. also, hobie is not super specific on who he dates, he’s a personality over looks type of person

— dating hobie is quite interesting but in a good way! very adventurous, daring, colorful? yeah colorful! when I say this, I mean trashing the rich neighborhoods, spray painting your initials with a heart on random walls, and sneaking into concerts. especially late night, this man’s energy is on ten when the moon is out but it’s all spent on you, don’t worry <3

— hobie can be loving and such a tease. like he’ll pull you in for a kiss and walk away out of nowhere ?? he finds your reactions hilarious and won’t stop teasing you cause of it, it’s too much fun for him. for example, he’ll start touching you softly, massaging your shoulders, you’ll lean into the touch and he just stops. like he’ll keep going until you’re too into it and then let go out of nowhere….pls I can’t stand him

— his favorite pastime is swinging through the city with you in his arms. it’s so much fun and the adrenaline he gets from it escalates by ten. especially when he faked to drop you but catch it right after, it gets him going and keeps him laughing until you end up on a random rooftop

— hobie also likes to take lots of pictures! I can see him always sneaking a pic when you’re not looking and definitely having a huge collection of polaroid photos. these photos are precious to him, it’s like him having small pieces of you everywhere he goes <3

— hobie can be very chill as well. hobie isn’t always down for adventures and some days he just wanna do what you’re into or just chill with you. he’ll tune his guitar and strum something new, lay on your thighs and let you rant on whatever obsession you have or how your day is going

LOVE LANGUAGE: physical touch !

𖦹 ₊˚. GWEN STACY

— dating gwen is very mellow, she has her moments of excitement but rarely. at first gwen shy herself away and was quite hard to break apart, she would only communicate through her music or body language

— not gonna lie, communication with gwen is quite rough but does require patience. she’s not a girl of many words unless you’re close with her or she’s ultimately at her breaking point. but with you, she does try more and more to speak out how she feels; her small sentences become longer and she doesn’t bottle up everything to scream into a pillow

— gwen would try to find a spot during her time as spidergirl to find new spots for you two to hang out at (while still fighting crime). her go to would be new pizza places, thrift shops, or rooftops of restaurants, the aroma of food puts her at ease

— being a music lover would mean gwen showing you her extensive collection of music. her range is large but it is quite fascinating, it can go from pop punk to conscious rap. she does indulge in rnb (sometimes) but more on the sabrina claudio, umi, and Q type of rnb, like indie rnb

— for hair, gwen can be quite indecisive so asking her on what to get next won’t be the best idea. she think protective styles + wigs are so creative and can get overwhelmed on what would look best on you. the best she can do is pick three of the best options sorry :(

— intimacy with gwen is very important to her, whether it be cuddling while watching a movie or playing with each other’s fingers. it gives gwen a sense of serenity that she always longs for and can’t live without. especially working as spider girl, that piece of serenity can ease her nerves. she reminds herself of the calming days you two share with each other

LOVE LANGUAGE: quality time !

𖦹 ₊˚. MILES MORALES

— dating miles is like living in a rom com movie. he’s so dorky, so cute, but also funny. dating miles is like taking a long walk on flower field, he makes you feel ecstatic, happy, blissful even

— because miles is a bit of a dork, he can get a bit slow on things you talk to him about (especially girl things). when you first explained what a period is he didn’t take it well and thought it was some disease only girls had. oh goodness miles-

— another difficult thing to explain to him is hair, he knows something about protective styles but not much. you don’t have to explain the difference of a loc and a braid but you do have to point out to him the difference between butterfly locs and soft locs. he’ll get the difference soon, don't worry!

— like gwen, miles is a music lover so he always singing whenever he’s around and not picky to music either. this boy can go from singing Billie Holiday to Ice Spice, I don’t know how tbh. btw, miles is definitely an ice spice stan ! but also, you and miles going to concerts (local or stadium) could be become a very consistent thing, consider it y’all favorite dates <3

— miles has a lot of playlist for scenarios of the both of you. scenarios of y’all first kiss, dancing at homecoming, y’all first argument, talking a walk through the busy streets of brooklyn, playing video games, etc. I promise you, if he thought about it, there’s definitely a playlist for it

— chill days with miles would consist of playing music through his record player, going record shopping, or watching old cartoons. on some days, if miles is too tired he’ll plop on your bed and just sleep away until you wake him up for dinner. the boy goes through a lot everyday, please don’t mind him

— there are times when miles does get quite stressed but doesn’t really know how to explain until he’s at his breaking point. the weight of being a good student, a good son, and spiderman can be too much to bear and can potentially crush him. therefore he will go silent some days and become more slumped throughout the day, he tries to hide it with a smile but couldn’t last once he was in your room. seeing him at such vulnerable moments made you see a different side of miles; fragile, small, and more open

LOVE LANGUAGE: acts of service + words of affirmation

𖦹 ₊˚. MIGUEL O’HARA

— not gonna lie, dating miguel is like having another parent as a boyfriend. he can be quite nagging but in a loving way, like he won’t pester you too much but does want better for you. he’ll talk with about your health, whether physical or mental, communication between the both of you, and even set boundaries for the relationship. it’s the bare minimum I know, but it’s something miguel cares about deeply

— miguel can actually be quite affectionate. when there isn’t much to do on both of your agendas, he’ll have you both laid out on the couch just holding you still and peppering kisses to your neck and face

— there are a lot of quiet times with miguel, he gets too deep into his thoughts and think about all the terrible mistakes he has made. the loss of his family, the disaster he has caused, they all come tumbling down and leaves him more like a villain than a hero. as much as he loves being spiderman, the consequences weigh on him heavy, so please comfort him when he’s unusually quiet or distant

— I feel like miguel is the perfect person when it comes to hair, like he has some sort of secret power for hair. some odd reason, his choice of protective styles for you are always perfect and you look so good after your appointment!

— miguel loves loves loves throwing out compliments! any time, any random day, he’ll call you “gorgeous”, “beautiful”, “princess”, and any other compliments in his native tongue. miguel adores the way your face heats up and your face glowing when he compliments you, your reactions brighten his day/night more

— this man loves to cook as well! he loves cooking food in his culture and loves even more when he shares it with you. not gonna lie, he does pride on being your favorite cook but then again the amazing aroma of his cooking always have your stomach flipping

— if things get too stressful or worrisome, miguel would book a vacation for the both of you, local or out of state, he doesn’t mind. his go to for vacation are always a beach house on an island to enjoy the outdoors or the countryside of a European country

LOVE LANGUAGE: words of affirmation

⭑ EEEEEEK THESE ARE ALL SO CUTE IDC IDC

⭑ there’s def gonna be a part 2 for prowler!miles cause I don’t have anything written for him yet….

𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐃 💗: Ephesians 4:32

SPIDERMAN: ATSV MASTERLIST + MAIN MASTERLIST

© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟥 𝗉𝗇𝗄𝗐𝖾𝖻. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽

[thedragonagelesbian]

(cws: abuse, possessiveness)

There's always an itch under their skin when they wake up in Claudio de Riva's bed. It's not his bed, per se, just a bed in a room in the guest suite of the Cantori Diamond, but because Claudio is there, it's his, and because Raas de Riva is in the bed with him--every sheet kicked away, hanging half off the side but still tethered, pinned, stuck by the arm around their back--they are too. His.

Hence the itch. Like every part of them is too loose and too exposed, spilling out and open into the room. So they close their eyes and they try to dream the Lighthouse. Of a quiet room and a woven rug from Par Vollen and a dozen bright-colored jars laid out in front of them and at least an hour of free time to apply their vitaar properly. A canto for every swirl and shape and pattern, lesson and meditation and connection to a limb they've been severed from and that blissful moment where the poison turns to iron. Cocoon and carapace and certainty that no one can touch them.

There are, at least, a couple of smaller vials in their pack. At least there is something like salvation on the other side of the room. Maybe if they're quiet enough, they can get out of bed without the Master Assassin noticing, and then, whoops, too late, can't wash it off again, lo siento, cielo, but you can't kiss me anymore today, it's for your own good, see.

They sit up. Sigh as the hand falls away. Take a moment to linger at the edge, feet flat on the floor and measuring their breaths, this moment where they close their eyes and their body is wholly, hopefully, their own.

A moment too long. And then the hand is back, fingers splayed against their pelvis.

"When will you be back?"

Never. Never ever ever ever--

"I won't be gone long." Chipper, always, they don't know if Claudio can see their face but they smile anyway. Helps sell the cheer. "There's still lots to do-- blight to burn and people to kill and Dellamortes to piss off."

"I don't mean back here." Claudio tugs at their waist, and Raas obliges, turning around and crawling close once more, gentler than being pulled. Somehow, his breath still smells of the cloying digestif they had shared the night before. "I mean back to the Crows, to Salle. To me."

I'd rather burn myself alive.

It's no idle threat either. They have the scars from their earliest magic lessons to prove it.

"Sorry, cielo." Raas kisses him quick, appeasing, pressing their thumb in under his collarbone the way he likes before breaking away again. Slow, languid, fingers lingering against his chest, playing their reluctance for all they could. "You have to take that one up with our talon. I have a contract, after all."

Shit, why did they have to mention Viago? The corners of their mouth tighten for a fraction of a second before they can smooth them out, wondering if this means they need to talk to Fifth Talon first. Beg him not to oblige the plea of a lifelong collaborator, ally, bodyguard to terminate the contract on Solas early. Claudio was furious enough when Raas was sent away in the first place, would Viago deny him again or seek to appease him? And would Viago want them to stay in Treviso--the city Raas abandoned, blighted, now owed all the blood in their body--or would he send them away? Somewhere where they wouldn't keep fucking things up for everyone, out of sight and out of mind in Salle. With Claudio.

Yes. Alright. Vitaar. Robes. A pastry from the casino's kitchen and then a quick temperature check with Viago. Make him happy. Make everyone happy.

"But after that?"

Claudio has the nerve to sound hopeful, and it makes Raas' blood boil, the flames of their magic and rage lapping at their stomach, and they just keep smiling. Even when they pull away only for Claudio to cover their hand with his own and clutch it tight.

Just make him happy. Make everyone happy. Birds that sing get let out of the cage to be shown off, after all.

"After?" They laugh. "You know I love to gamble on long odds, but even I have more sense than to bet on 'after' a contract." Thoughts flash to Neve. To fried food on a dank, rainy pier. To There's got to be something good to count on and I want you to bet on a free fish dinner and the way her face softened ever so gently, a warm thaw like possibility in her eyes.

They shake off the memory before it can make them sick. It was nice while it lasted, at least, playing the optimist. With the Crows, the future is only ever ash.

"Especially when the contract in question involves oh, I don't know, a quarter dozen gods."

"Do not be so pessimistic, cariño. I know--"

"No." Tone and smile and body all break sharp. "You don't."

I don't want you to know. If I die, I don't want you to cry over my pyre, and if I live, I don't ever want you to find me again.

"Sorry." But they're still here, together, in the now, and even though Raas is standing over him, finally off the damned bed, Claudio's frown is still the most dangerous thing in the room (except, maybe, for some brightly-colored vials, an idle thought Raas has never quite shaken since they first met over a glass of wine laced with magebane, and that would be the poetry of it all, wouldn't it? Poison for poison.) "Sorry. It would just be such a shame to get your hopes up, wouldn't it? You deserve better than that."

"I deserve the world-- and you are part of my world. Come back to it soon."

[whumped-by-glitter]

Day 6: Nonhuman whumpee / Reluctant Whumper / "Run!"

Bonus Alt Prompt: Forced to Hurt

Day 5 Here <

⚠️CW: Whipping, Blood, Captivity, Muzzles, Mention of Past Torture, Non Sexual Nudity.

Let me know if I forgot anything, but it should be pretty tame today.

This week was very busy, sorry I'm so behind!

story under the cut!

Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Youngest lightly hit the back of their head on the white cinderblock wall they were leaning against. The sound was the only thing breaking up the monotony of the white room. This was almost worse than the waterboarding several days before, at least they thought it was just a few days before. A week or more could have passed for all they knew.

Thunk

Thunk

There was nothing to do here but ruminate on their regrets. They wished they could take back those last words they said to Leader. They recalled seeing the pain in Leader’s eyes when they said them. They wondered if Leader would come break Whumpee out and just leave them to rot. It’s what they deserved after all they had done after all.

Thunk

Thunk

Thunk

They wondered if Whumpee was in a cell somewhere just like this, maybe even on the other side of this wall. They wondered what torture Claudio put them through. They wondered if they were alright.

Thunk

Thunk

The back of their head was beginning to go numb from repeatedly against the wall. They sighed and stood up. They stretched and began to pace the limited area. They had counted the tiles multiple times, there was about 30 and a half. They could stick their arms out in either direction and touch wall. They continued to pace in little circles to warm up, having never been given new clothes.

All at once the door to the tiny cell was flung open. A guard threw some clothes at youngest.

“put these on, you’re coming with us,” he ordered. Youngest could see another guard just outside the door.

They hurried and dressed, grateful for anything to cover up. The guard that was in the entry of the room then stepped into the threshold to bind them with shackles and cuffs.

Youngest fought back hard with every bit of strength they had. They scratched and clawed, getting punched several times in the process. Youngest  even biting the guard and drawing blood.

The guard hissed, drawing back. They looked livid. “Feral mongrel,” he growled, leaving the room, door slamming.

Youngest slid down the wall, shaking from the adrenaline and fear. Relief flowed into their chest, replacing the earlier anxiety. At least they were safe for now.

They soon returned, however, the other guard slid in immediately behind the first, holding something. Youngest tried to fight again, but their efforts were in vein. once the handcuffs were on the second guard approached with whatever he had in his hand.

Youngest began to struggle again as they realized what it was, but the first guard had them held tight.

“I’m not some kind of animal!” they gritted their teeth and thrashed their head.

It was all futile though. In the end youngest felt a leather strap being tightened and buckled around their head as a metal cage closed in around their mouth and nose. They could hear the distinct click of padlocks behind their head.

‘muzzled!’ they thought angrily, glaring daggers at the guards. The edges of the cage were already digging into their face from it being buckled too tight.

The second guard then retreated from the room to give them space. The first guard add shackles to Youngest’s ankles and shoved them forward out of the room. Shackles caused them to trip and fall, the guards just laughed cruelly before hauling them back up.

They were taken to some kind of courtyard through a set of solid steel doors a short ways down the hall. Youngest raked their eyes over their surroundings, the yard couldn’t have been more than maybe 20 feet squared. The dirt under their feet was a reddish brown, looking like clay. The solid windowless brick of the building went up about 8 feet, before pushing in, creating a ledge. The rest of the building continuing up had windows. Their eyes landed on a figure standing on the ledge, peering down at them, Claudio.

“Nice of you to join us, Dipshit!” Claudio mocked, “that’s your new name by the way, dipshit.”

Youngest just glowered up at their captor, trying to look menacing through the ridiculous muzzle strapped to their face.

“I heard you were quite a wild animal, gave my men quite a hard time. This would have been much easier on you if you had only played nice.” Claudio snapped and another captive was drug out.

Although the dry dust created too much of a cloud for youngest to tell who it was, their heart stopped. They feared it was Whumpee.

The form was dropped next to them. Relief and fear rushed through Youngest when they discovered it was not Whumpee…. ‘Where were they?’

Their gut further twisted when they realized that although the person was not Whumpee, it was in fact still someone they recognized. “Andrew?” Youngest questioned, eyes widening, also relieved to find they could speak through the muzzle. The man was part of the Intel division at the same agency they worked at. At least they were pretty sure it was Andrew; it was hard to say for certain under the bruises and cuts.

Andrew made a muffled noise through his gag.

“Now then Dipshit, I believe this is a friend of yours? They won’t seem to give us the information we want about your headquarters, so you’re going to get it out of them.” Claudio nodded at the guards to unlock Youngest’s handcuffs. “I owe you a huge thank you by the way, we only captured him because they were out confirming your whereabouts.” The arms dealer grinned wickedly.

One of the other guards that had brought Andrew out was securing the man’s wrists to a post as youngest was being handed a cat-o-nines flogger, studded with metal.

Guilt flooded them. Youngest began to shake, they couldn’t, this, not this! They would take waterboarding a hundred more times before this. Youngest shook their head, trembling, and threw the flogger into the dirt.

 “I will not cooperate with this.”

“you’ll do it Dipshit, or I’ll just have you both killed here and now,” Claudio retorted calmly.

Youngest took a deep breath trying to steady them self. “Fine, alright, I’ll do it,” they grumbled, reluctantly taking up the flogger. They did their best to reason with them self that them doing it was probably better than some guard doing it.

‘crack’

They threw the first lash, aiming just to hit Andrew with the tips of the falls to avoid doing damage with the spikes. They looked over to the guards, then to Claudio who just nodded for them to continue.

‘crack’

This one drew a little blood, but Andrew was still silent and had not reacted.

“Harder, you hit like a child, dipshit,” Claudio taunted.

“Stop calling me that!” Youngest screamed, anger gripping them. They lashed out with the whip out of frustration with everything they had before they even realized what they were doing.

‘CRACK’

Andrew screamed, being hit with not just the tips this time, but the entirety of the falls. Blood trickled down their back.

Youngest immediately dropped the cat-o-nine, crying at what they had done. They had hurt someone innocent, they had hurt one of their own!

“Good, just like that you dumb little dipshit. Keep going!” Claudio ordered.

Youngest, swallowed, fighting down their emotion. They had to keep going to keep them both alive.

‘CRACK’

‘CRACK’

‘CRACK’

Blood was now flowing down Andrew’s back. He was shaking from the pain.

‘CRACK’

Again and again, he made the flogger come down on the other man’s back. He had lost count around 20 but was urged on.

Andrew’s pained screams had become broken sobs, his voice long since cracked from screaming.  Youngest’s clothes were splattered in blood, the whip was coated with it. It looked like something from the horror movies Whumpee and themself used to watch together. But this wasn’t a movie, this was real life, and worse, this was their doing.

Youngest dropped the whip for the last time. They began to hyperventilate. Trembling from head to toe, they slowly sunk to the ground, falling to their hands and knees. They wretched at the sight of their ally’s blood. The blood that they had drawn. They were supposed to be the hero, how could they do this.

“Continue Dipshit.” The order felt like ice in their veins. They simply responded by shaking their head.

“I said keep going!”

“I-if I continue, they will die.” Youngest choked out.

“Then they die, you don’t stop until I say.”

Youngest again resisted, not moving a muscle. They didn’t even bother to wipe the blood splatter that was on their face.

“Have it your way then,” Claudio hummed, pausing for a moment, “slit the spy’s throat.”

The guard nearest to Andrew began to step forward, service dagger in hand.

Youngest began to scream, “stop! No! Stop! NONONONO!”

their vision began to haze. Soon the screaming almost sounded like it was coming from someone else, and they were watching events unfold as if they were an observer. They saw themself begin to go out of control but were helpless to stop it. Their body gave off a faint glow as they cried out, desperate to halt the execution that was about to unfold right before their eyes.

All at once everything fell pin drop silent. Everything was frozen in time. They felt their throat and chest burning, and an eerie feeling crept across their mind at the sight of statues that were once moving people.

Suddenly things began to move again and Youngest realized the burning in their throat was from their own screaming. They then gasped in air, realizing their longs were aching because they hadn’t been breathing.

They found they were all of a sudden toe to toe with the guard holding the dagger. They punched with every ounce of strength they could muster. To their complete shock, the guard went flying against the wall behind him. He could hear yelling, the four guards scrambling, more getting called in.

They snapped Andrew’s chains; they could tell they were quickly losing all control. They felt themself going nuclear. Using their last moments of clarity, they grabbed the intel officer and rushed to the far door, ripping it open and throwing them through it.

“RUN!” Youngest yelled. They hoped the confusion they were creating would at least allow them to escape.

@whumperofworlds, @whumpsandbumps, @3-2-whump, @pigeonwhumps.

Day 7 Here >

That was the last thing they remembered clearly before everything got fuzzy.

*I did not have a beta reader for this, please let me know if there are errors. The word app on my phone sometimes glitches and I don't always catch it on my read throughs.

Event Prompts Here

My Event Masterlist Here

[elementaldoughnut12]

"Pleasure Points"

*This fic is for the amazing @katries ! Happy birthday and thanks for being an awesome internet mom! Hope you enjoy your husband being a little pain princess!*

It was the day after their blood and guts match and Nick woke up and felt a horrible pain all across his back. "Fuck!" he said painfully. "Well that's one way to start off the day after a grueling match... something wrong tweety bird?"" his boyfriend Mox said while kissing Nick's forehead. "Yeah my fucking back hurts from getting ragdolled all night by your stupid Swiss shithead" Nick said then he felt a twinge of pain which caused tears to form in his eyes.

"Awww poor baby how about I massage your back as a way of me apologizing for Claudio's stupid ass hmmm?" Mox said with a gentle smile. Nick looked at him to see if there was any sign of sexual intent behind those eyes and for once Mox looks innocent. "Ok just be gentle ok? My back hurts like a motherfucker" Nick says as he turns over to lay on his stomach on the bed. "Baby, when I'm done with you, your body will feel like fucking jelly" Mox says as he cracks his fingers and starts massaging the middle part of Nick's back.

It was all going well until Mox pressed at a certain pressure point which made Nick almost moan and some blood rush down to his dick. When it comes to pain, Nick welcomes it with open arms and enjoys the feeling it gives him and Mox loves to give him that pain. Mox starts to massage his lower back and Nick's brain lights up with the intoxicating feeling and starts quietly whimpering while his sweats start to get a little bit tighter. "You ok sweetheart?" Mox asks while slowing his movements. "Y-yeah just don't stop please!" Nick says while trying not to hump the mattress. Mox looks at him suspiciously and flips Nick over which causes him to yelp. Mox looks down at the hard outline of Nick's dick and the obvious wet spot on his sweats and gives him a hungry look.

"Oh sweetheart..." Mox says seductively which causes Nick to tremble slightly. "I've should've known that when my little bird is hurting that even the slightest touch will make him go red and needy" he says as he looms over Nick. "P-please daddy?" Nick says as his dick starts to leak even more and makes it look like he pissed himself. "Oh don't worry baby... daddy's gonna take care of you and you're gonna feel so much better afterwards" Mox says as he presses his hand against Nick's bulge and kisses him deeply. Nick's back is definitely gonna hurt more after Mox is done with him.

[muses-of-the-memory]

@the-world-hopper continued from here Lucas sat with Zafina as she laid down what went on with her, and it's gotten himself some concern for the fortune teller. With that demon in her arm, Lucas wasn't sure if he could touch her, let alone hug or lean on her. And whatever beef this Jin and Kazuya have with each other, he can tell it's not pretty. Guess alot could happen in fighting game worlds. "But what can I do about it?" Lucas would ask her. Should this Azazel guy bust loose, he would leave it to Jin and Kazuya to fight him off. The kid still has a lot to learn in physical combat, mainly mixed martial arts.

Seeing that Lucas is showing concern for him, the mystic seer turned her head to him and brought him close with a side-hug. "I understand your concern for me, but rest assured, I'll be fine. Azazel's power is beyond anything I had foreseen..." Zafina said.

"I had went to the Sirius Sanctuary, headquarters of the Sirius Marskmen, where the people there had experience hunting demons. I was losing consciousness, until Claudio Serfanio and a girl named Xiaoyu tended to my recovery and gave me a holy seal on my arm."

She then stands up. "Out of all the futures I've seen, there's only one way out... But I'll accept my fate. Whatever it may be." Zafina turns her attention to Lucas. "Perhaps... you could use your Keyblade's power of light to help me hold back the demon..."

"After the events of the King of Iron Fist Tournament 6." Zafina spoke to Lucas about her demon-possessed left hand. "You see, being a mystic, I was foretold that if the two evil stars, Jin Kazama and Kazuya Mishima should ever make contact, their fighting could shake the world, and a demon known as Azazel would be resurrected from its tomb that my people sealed away..." She explained.

"I had then been told that someone named Lars Alexanderson would be the one to defeat Azazel. I followed him alongside Raven to help regain his memory and take down Jin." Zafina said.

"I thought Azazel was defeated by both Lars and Jin, but I took back the orb holding his power when it absorbed some of Jin's Devil Gene, the ability to give the powers of a Devil... But then he had survived in spirit form." Zafina continued to explain.

"To stop him, I used one of my people's rituals to seal him in my arm. Worst of all, both Jin and Kazuya are still alive, and the devil blood that this orb of Azazel absorbed was getting stronger, and I did not keep Azazel sealed away for good, the demon was resurface once again..." She said closing her eyes.

[sheinthatfandom]

After full gear. So someone else has uploaded the full video this one in the opposite arena seat as the previous one but this one is closer and you can see facial expressions now

I have thoughts and need to share them also gonna put the video underneath the read more in case this video gets taken down from YouTube the way the other one was

—the way wheeler basically came out to mjf’s music cause he needed to get out here

-the way he stops to make sure the others are on their way then runs to the ring and slides on his knees all the way to mox

-the refs saying something to Claudio and his body language saying fucking try it

-the bcc telling mox what regal did and Yuta pantomiming the punch

-moxley getting angry and Yuta instantly jumping away (hi Trent when I catch you in these streets we gonna have a problem) comes back once he realizes it’s not directed at him

-when mox throws himself down Bryan crawls over and puts his hand on his back and Yuta covers his face when mox does. Claudio’s lips pressed

-claudio wraps his arm around mox and wheeler rushes to the space between mox and bryan

-whatever mox is saying to them they’re all agreeing and all kneeing like a team about to make a winning goal

-mox reaching out for Yuta who helps him up but mox pulls him into a hug and kisses the side of his head then hugs Bryan and Claudio

-Bryan raises mox’s hand and wheeler is about to do it too but then steps back points to mox and claps instead

-Yuta bows to mox before the anger gets to be too much and he kicks the ring rope

-Claudio wipes his eyes and Bryan and Yuta are mirroring each other hands on their hips

-mox gets angry and saying something Claudio sounds like he’s got a game plan or at least is saying something focused yutas head is tilted all the way to the side like it’s really important to take in whatever Claudio’s saying

-Yuta and Bryan standing next to ea h other looking at each other and talking

-mox being angry pointing around each one of them you just know he’s saying something inspiring

-the back of Yuta and Bryan’s hands touching

-the way Yuta gets out of the ring, he’s a puppy

-claudio seeing mox with a weapon instantly retreats Yuta is in the way and mox steps around him to throw the chair

-they leave and Bryan STILL isn’t wearing a bcc zip up but now wheeler and Claudio’s are easy to see

[daddyhausen]

• screen time — claudio castagnoli •

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a/n — i got a fucking language kink if it ain’t obvious. also i know claudio speaks multiple languages, but i chose italian bc that’s the one i’m most familiar with :3

also keep in mind i’m using google translate as i am not fluent in italian so i apologise if there is anything wrong or misspelt

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ masterlists } | { aew masterlist } | { claudio castagnoli masterlist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ summary } — what’s better than watching claudio play video games ? cuddling him while he’s playing video games of course !

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact }, fem!reader, language kink, riding, male + female orgasms, squirting, vaginal sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, internal cumshot, creampie

{ word count } — 1.2k

{ genre } — smut

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ taglist } — @stxrrlightwrites13 @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @legit9thlunaticwarrior @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @damnnhausen @writtingrose

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

observed was not nearly the word you’d use to describe this moment, for it was far too precious to you. you simply admired him, his concentration in that exact moment although you did not have a clear view of his features, at least from your current position, however you could make out the slightest glimpse of his stare in the reflection of his monitor. his eyes fixated with an intense gaze, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his tongue positioned between slightly gritted teeth, just barely jutting out past his lips. a few curse words muttered here and there whenever a level had become particularly frustrating to beat. you could also hear the resounding chuckle of one adam cole through his headphones whenever your love had lost a round.

to say you were in love was an understatement, you had hearts in your eyes for him. you craved him, nor necessarily in a sexual sence, moreso his touch, his warmth. the way his arms would protectively wrap around your waist, the small kisses he’d plant atop your shoulders, the way he’d stare lovingly down at you although he was supposed to be concentrating on his game. you smiled softly thinking about it

you stood up, although your current position on the bed was rather comfortable, you made your way towards him, quietly tip-toing behind him, your arms wrapping around his muscular frame, chin placed daintily upon his shoulder, a sweet, soft kiss graced his cheek. he leaned into it, a gentle sigh escaping his lips. it was a comfortable silence the two of you basked in, no sense of awkwardness in the air.

he raised his arms up, both hands still gripping the controller quite firmly, allowing you to take a seat on his lap. you did so slowly, making sure not to disturb his game. you straddled his lap, one leg on either side of his thighs. his arms came down around your body, holding a protective grip on your waist as his chin lightly rested upon your shoulder.

you buried yourself into the warmth of his chest, head buried into the cross of his neck, still hearing the incoherent ramblings of adam through his headphones. you basked in the immense comfort and protection of his warmth, succumbing to the soft, rhythmic thumps of his heartbeat, letting a small sigh escape your lips.

hours you could spend like this, in silence, just basking in each other’s glory. it felt safe, it felt like home. peering up slowly through half-closed lids, the lull of sleep seeming to pull you in during the early morning hours, noticing that same soft slow pull affecting his blinks. adam hald already logged off about an hour or so ago as evident by the silence through your love’s headphones. entranced, you stared up at him for a moment, pupils blown wide with such adoration for him.

he took off his headphones, placing them on the table beside his keyboard, he glanced down at you slowly with tired eyes, a soft smile forming across his lips

“what’s the matter, amore mio?” { my love }

his voice was soft, loving, aided by a simple head pat, smoothing the loose strands of hair from your eyes, tucking them behind your ears.

“tired?” he questioned again. you only offered a simple head shake, a no in response for the time being

“a little, but i don’t want to fall asleep yet” you hummed, nuzzling further into his chest

“well, i got an idea of what we could do for the time being”

“oh really?” you propped yourself up slightly, hands resting upon his shoulders, a sly raise of your eyebrow at his suggestion. “and what do you propose we do?”

he said nothing, merely cupping your cheeks in both his large palm pulling you down for a tender, yet heated kiss. a small gasp let your lips at the sudden contact, one of which made him smile into your lips. his hands moved slowly, down from your cheeks, cupping the swell of your breasts on his palms for a moment, his thumbs flickering over your clothed nipples, feeling them perk up at his touch onder the fabric.

his hands continued to travel downward, from your breast they moved down your stomach, around the wonderful curve of your hips, finally resting on your plump ass, giving the supple flesh a rough squeeze just for good measure. he pulled away from the kiss for a moment, quickly coming to the realisation that you were only hearing panties underneath your… well, his shirt.

“you planned this, didn’t you?” he tilted his head slightly, a sly smirk. a chuckle followed soon after.

“maybe…” you remarked with the same cocky wit in your response, leaning forward to kiss him rather harshly again. his hands slid up your shirt once more, fingertips traced shapes against your skin. he was far too impatient to remove your clothing for now, simply wanting to ravage you then and there.

your hands slipped down from around his neck, gripping his shirt with your nails, hips slowly beginning to grind in his growing bulge. soft moans erupting from his parted lips as you pulled away, fingertips toying with the hem of his sweatpants.

“amore…” { love } he yearned for you, your touch, your warmth, letting a small, primal growl escape his lips when you freed his hard cock from the restraint of his sweatpants

“sei amore della mia vita…” { you are the love of my life }

he lifted your hips up, prying your panties to the side. his lips locked with yours, the tip of his cock teased your soaked folds, slipping into your entrance with ease, adoring the way your tight little cunt stretched around his thick cock.

you could not help yourself, beggining to bounce on his cock, his hands gripped your waist, aiding your movements. your head buried into the crook of his neck, placing loving kisses upon his skin, nipping the flesh slightly with your teeth as a guttural groan parted his lips.

“fuck…i’m close,” he grunted, feeling his cock swell inside your warmth. your cunt throbbing around his size egging him closer to his release. you remained silent, insisting on riding him, focused on helping him achieve release.

your body buzzed with pleasure, slowly thrusting your hips down onto his cock, feeling his thick size stretch you out with ease as his orgasm drew near. you hummed against his lips, your stomach tightening with such need for release.

“m-me too…” you whined, increasing the speed of your movements, throwing you head back in pleasure as a gutteral moan ripped through your throat. claudio’s grip tightened around your waist, he pulled your shirt up, burying his face into your breasts, sucking and biting your sensitive nipples

“amore mio, sborra per me” { my love, cum for me } he growled against your flesh

“that’s it, fare un pasticcio su tutto il mio cazzo” { make a mess all over my cock }

you could not hold on much longer, a fire burning in your belly, cunt pulsing around his big cock, continuing to slam your hips down against his, crying out with release

“oh fuck!-“ you whined, dragging out your moans, juices gushing around his size, thighs shaking as such intense pleasure coursed through you. he was quick to follow suit, lightly biting down on your nipple, his cum flooding your void in a sea of white, filling you to the brim as you slammed down on his cock for a final time, collapsing into him

“amore…” { love… }, he breathed out, softly tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear so he could see your face clearly.

“tu sei il mio sole e le mie stelle. ti amerò per sempre” { you are my sun and stars. i’ll love you forever }

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[luneariaa]

✧ in piscinam.

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : claudio serafino x fem! reader.

✰ 𝐰. 𝐜. : 1k+

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : claudio sees you within the cool waters of the pool, before deciding to approach you and make his presence known.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : reader is wearing a dress ( mentioned ), claudio might be ooc, pretty much a self-indulgent fic. also very fluffy <33

✰ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : my very first attempt on writing for him, and the ideas have been brainrotting in my mind for weeks 😭💙 so i just knew that i had to actually post this one out.

. dividers by @/saradika-graphics !! 💫

The light taps of your shoes filled the silent hallways, stepping against the perfectly marbled floors with such ease within the private sanctuary within Italy– the Duomo di Sirio, as it was known to some others. You are also recognized to be in a quite higher position than others as well, just below CLAUDIO SERAFINO himself, as you are his personal confidante. One of his most trusted person, as far as he’s aware.

Not a single soul in sight, so you have decided to take a quick dip within the clear waters of the pool nearby, just to try to cool yourself off due to the warm weather. Claudio wasn’t around as well, since the last time you checked his schedule, he had some important errands to tend to.

Eventually arriving at the intended location, you take one last look around you, just to make sure that no one is present– gradually letting your dress fall onto the hard ground without any sound and changing it to a transparent one, before immediately letting yourself sink within the cool waters below.

Today seemed strangely quiet. For Claudio, at least. He was expecting any sort of greeting from you once he arrived not too long ago, but instead, he finds himself searching for your whereabouts around the place. 

Several thoughts are running through his mind, and yet, none of them have made any proper thoughts due to how messy it currently is. His steps are quite heavy, yet cautious as to not attract any attention somehow. These past few months have been admittedly stressful for him, and it has tested some bits of his patience in ways unimaginable.

It didn’t take him long enough to halt on his tracks, spotting a rather familiar someone by the clear waters. It’s pretty unexpected to see someone taking a dip at this time of the day, yet he couldn’t even blame the said person, as the weather outside has been nothing but merciless to them.

He leaned himself over the edge someplace almost hidden, not wanting his presence to be acknowledged just yet as he rests his arms atop of it. His slate blue eyes are quite sharp and observant, clearly now having different thoughts as he sees the person in the pool, yet none of them has any.. Unholy intentions, dare he say, but rather, one gaze that is filled with pure adoration and silent amazement. 

The sunbeams from above seemed to have touched your face perfectly, which made your expression to appear more serene in a way. Your now wet hair flows down so beautifully, as if you originally belonged in a portrait that’s being highly revered and taken care of– or that’s how he told himself to be, at least.

His thoughts never lied to him, because why would he?

Claudio begins to feel some sort of a strange sensation within his heart– has he been living in a certain darkness for all this time? His throat feels dry, his mind goes hazy for a while there. He has always been a man who's focused solely with his own assigned duties naturally; all the while, trying to avoid any potential distractions within his line of work.

But the sight he’s witnessing right now made him really think deeply. Has he never seen you being all relaxed and ethereal like this? You did it all so effortlessly, which made him possibly be baffled with his own actions if you ever caught him watching you like this.

Without moving away from the spot just yet, the Italian exorcist moves his hand in a smooth fashion– creating something rather unexpected, yet beautiful for anyone who’s able to see it. A small, blue butterfly begins to emerge out of nowhere; glowing vibrantly as it follows the magic flow from his hand, flying discreetly towards where you are. 

The seemingly glowing butterfly gracefully glides across your features, immediately catching your attention as he intended. He watched, as it landed just on your cheek nicely, making you look even more divine from his perspective. It compliments your features so well, which makes his heart swell. 

Claudio has not experienced these types of feelings for a long time now, and he wants– no, needs to keep feeling it deeply within his heart, if he were so bold to say. A warm, genuine smile made its way to his handsome face, wanting to let the scene unfolding ahead of him to be engraved within his memories alone.

The way you smiled as the butterfly flew around you– it is something that he didn’t want to ever forget. Sure, you are his confidante, but your smile alone is enough to send his heart beating so rapidly, as if you are his lifeline. Claudio didn’t even remember when was the last time he’s able to observe you properly like this, without any work-related distractions.

The feeling just escalates even further as he sees how gentle you are, cradling the butterfly on the palm of your hands with an expression of pure awe. He could admit he had feel.. Something, within him– a type of feeling that he ever tried to shut it away from.

When the butterfly has gradually flown away, his smile remains– clearly still mesmerized by the genuine actions you’ve portrayed. It’s beginning to feel a bit funny for him since he doesn’t want the feeling to stop just yet–

“How long have you been standing there, Signore Claudio?”

Has he been stuck within his own train of thoughts for that long? It startled him slightly when your mere voice managed to pull him out from his own little world; now realizing that he has finally been caught. But that’s like the least of his worries at this point.

You have propped one of your hands up by the pool’s edge, placing your head atop of it with an amused expression. Somehow, he doesn’t know how, but you looked even more.. Attractive, looking at him that way. So his smile returned without any ounce of hesitation present.

“I’ve been here for a while now, cara.”

His reply was simple; quickly being followed by the temporal lingering silence between the two of you. But this only made your curiosity grow, tilting your head slightly as you added more words to your previous question even more.

“Have you, really?”

A small smirk is present upon your delicate features by now, “Do you know how improper it is to stare at a lady who’s bathing?”

“I’m aware,” he answered with honesty, not even shifting his gaze away from you just yet. “I just couldn’t resist, bella.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, not wanting to admit that those little nicknames he has specifically given to you did make you swoon internally. Claudio has always possessed a certain charm with him– maybe being Italian is one of them– but that’s beside the point. He’s always been this way ever since you decided to work alongside him, so you almost couldn’t tell yourself.

Not even moving away from your current spot, he begins to approach you with several steps closer; eyes not leaving yours as if he’s simply trying to convey his unspoken words from there.

“You sure know how to make a man’s heart throb.”

“Oh, do I?” You tried to mask your surprised expression, giggling a little with the maintained eye contact. “Do I, perhaps, have caught your heart at least, Signore?”

The Italian exorcist stops just not too far in front of you, yet leaving just a few spaces between you both as he kneels in front of you. Without thinking twice, he leans his face just a bit– his heartbeat is so rapid that he’s sure you might be able to hear it if you went a bit closer to him.

His mind is telling him to move away this instant, but his heart tells him otherwise. Perhaps, something just awakened within him, that he just begins to fall into a clear realization? You have been his confidante for years, after all, maybe that’s why he dares to become a little more bold right now.

Maybe you are the lady who was meant to be his equal in a lot of ways. Maybe now he knows what he’s been lacking.

Claudio was unsure yet, but he can tell for one thing– his heart has spoken to him. He knows what he wants, and he’ll try to slowly pursue it.

“Ah, don’t get too close to the waters. Or else, I might have to pull you along with me.” You leaned your head backwards and slightly move away from him, which caught him off guard.

He decided to just follow what his heart tells him. A genuine chuckle escaped from his luscious lips; already feeling even more entertained by the whole ordeal.

“Is that an offer, bella?” His Italian accent is thickening somehow, and deeper as he spoke those words, his smirk reappearing within seconds. “Then, who am I to refuse?”

You had your brow raised, before giggling then returning his smirk in a similar fashion– swimming even further away from him as a way to possibly tease him, “Well then..”

“You know what to do, Claudio.”

mb idk how to properly end it lmao-

@luneariaa do not repost; reblogs are alright. all rights reserved.

[555sage]

SUMMARY — reader falls in love with the better version of her ex-significant other.

INCLUDES — angst, cursing, and mentions cheating.

❝BETTER VERSION, part one❞

— based off “better version” by sabrina claudio.

“I simply ask for one thing from you. One fucking thing.” You harshly spoke. “Communication.”

“You’ll sit there and give the whole world and some more shit your time, but me? Oh it’s fuck me.” You laughed hysterically.

Your boyfriend stood up from the couch, turning the tv off and threw the remote on the couch. “It’s always something with you. If it ain’t one thing it’s a fucking ‘nother.”

“Oh so what? I ask for too much now? I could’ve sworn you were the person who told me a relationship works well when we communicate with each other.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “So, that was all bullshit then, hmm?”

“Y/N..” He sighed, placing his head in his hands with an exasperated sigh.

You put your hand up in the air, stopping him from uttering another word. “I’m going to my mother’s.”

That was the last you said to him before you walked off to you guys’ shared room and packed some of your things to blow some steam off at your mother’s house.

The effort he made to speak with you about the situation was overall bare minimum and you did not even feed into his bullshit. You had enough and finally told him he had to pack and go.

He sent a “Wish you well” text, but you replied nothing and blocked his number and rid yourself of such disgrace. You spent the next days going through a motion. You wanted to rid yourself completely of your last and move into a better space.

Six months later, you were in a better space, glowing and flourishing. The home you previously shared with your ex made you feel empty. It wasn’t a space you wanted to be in anymore. Thankfully, you were able to move into your new home on your own. You sipped the lemon drop martini you made and plopped down carefully on your couch, unpausing the tv, which resumes playing The Gray Man. To say you watched the movie for the plot is an understatement. Chris Evans and Ryan Gosling are the plot.

Your phone ringing next to you drew your attention away from the movie. “Hey, what’s up.” You put the phone to your ear.

“Just checking on my girl. What are you doing?” Natasha, your close friend of 5 years, questioned.

“Just sippin’ on a lil’ something and watching that new movie on Netflix with Chris Evans.”

“Well, I don’t mean to break your party up, but Mateo is doing a welcome party for his friend who’s coming from London, so I wanted you to come.”

“He rented out a section for us tonight too.” She spoke in a singsong.

That sparked your interest even more. If it’s one thing Mateo will do, is that he will make sure everyone around him enjoys themselves. He’s a “make it happen” type of guy. You thought for a second before answering. “Okay.” You shrugged.

“Great! Be ready by 9:30. We have to arrive a bit early to surprise him.”

You retained the information that was told to you. Now you had to think and decide what to wear. You finished the movie and drank the rest of your drink. When 8 rolled around you started to get yourself ready.

By 9:30, you were dressed and ready to go. You touched up your baby hairs and applied a bit more gloss to your two-toned lips, which were lined with brown liner. Black or brown lined lips with gloss to top it off, ALWAYS hits.

Your phone rang and you knew it was Natasha. You answered, “Coming now!”, looking at yourself in the mirror you made sure you were good to go. Grabbing your clutch, your Tom Ford heels clatter against your house floors as you made your way outside to the black suv.

“You look absolutely gorgeous.” Natasha engulfed you in a hug as you stepped inside the backseat of the suv.

“Oh thank you, but you girl! This dress!” You admire her. The emerald green dress flushed with her dark skin.

“Just something Mateo picked up for me.” Natasha blushed, she reaches towards the front seat to rub Mateo’s shoulder who was driving.

Mateo who was engaged in a conversation on the phone still acknowledged Natasha, he let his hand off the steering wheel to squeeze her hand briefly. You smiled at them sweetly.

“So, who’s the friend?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you about him. But, he’s a professional footballer, plays for Chelsea. Mateo is surprising him for the new season the team is about to start.”

“He’s cute too.” She added.

You laughed at her last comment. “Mhm.” You simply replied. It wasn’t that you weren’t interested in possibly being set up with someone new, but after finding out your ex was actually cheating just tore you apart. It was disheartening to know you were being faithfully to someone who did not take your feelings into consideration at all.

You were pulled away from the negative thoughts when the suv came to a stop in front of the club. You stepped out with Natasha, Mateo made his way over to the two of you, stopping beside Natasha.

“Y/N, you look lovely.” Mateo complimented.

“Thank you Mateo, you as well.”

The three of you head inside into the packed building, Pushing P played loudly in the club. Your eyes wonder around watching as people either danced, drank, or sat smoking hookah. Mateo led you guys to the section that was in the back and blocked off. A few faces you recognized, but others you didn’t. Mateo greeted the people and mingled with them before introducing you and Natasha. You gave a small wave smiled at them.

“Alright, he’ll be in with Reece soon.”

The bottle girls came to the section with a big sign that read, “Start the season with a W” and bottles with sparklers. Majority of the people in the club were looking over at our section. “We have a real one in the building tonight!” The Dj announced.

“Motherfuckin’ Ruben!”

It seemed that everyone in the club started to cheer. I stood and clapped along. I noticed two men making their way over to the section. “Which one is Ruben?” You leaned over to Natasha.

“The one who tall as hell for no damn reason.”

You laughed and glanced over at the caramel-skinned man who wore a suit that he looked too damn good in. This couldn’t be the man Natasha was calling just “cute”. He is FINE AS FUCK, you thought.

Mateo aggressively pulled him in for a bro hug. You smiled at Mateo’s excitement to see his friend. You felt a hold on your hand, “Girl come on, cause once Mateo gets started he won’t stop.”

Natasha pulled you over towards Mateo and Ruben. “Ruben!” Natasha dropped her hold on your hand to give him a hug. Mateo stepped to the side and watched Natasha.

Ruben smiled, he accepted Natasha’s hug and pulled away seconds after. “How’ve you been?” You instantly noticed his English accent.

“Just peachy. This one here couldn’t stop talking my head off about you coming down.” She slapped Mateo’s arm lightly.

His laugh did something to you, or was it his smile? You couldn’t decide. “Oh yeah huh? Missed me that much?” He joked with Mateo. His voice was something too. It was smooth and velvety.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Mateo pointed at Ruben.

You stood quietly as they spoke, Ruben eyes met with yours which made you nervous. “This is Y/N, my best friend.” Natasha gestured over to you.

Ruben held out his large hand to you, you lifted your hand and placed it in his, shaking it firmly. “Nice to meet you.” You smiled.

“You as well, beautiful.” Your heart fluttered as you made eye contact with him.

He drinks you in—your deep brown eyes, glossy lips, and smooth dark brown skin just did something to him. The dress you had on hugged your figure so well, he couldn’t help but to rake his eyes over the full length of your body. Ravishing, he thought.

Natasha noticed the interaction, “Alright! Shot o’clock!” She clapped. You were pulled away from Ruben and taken to where the drinks were. “That man was staring you down girl. He definitely likes what he sees.”

“I don’t blame him.” She shook her head.

“I’m no better than him though, the man is fine as hell.” You laughed, taking a quick glance at him across the room.

“Okay enough chitchat, time for shots for real.” Natasha clapped.

Lord knows you needed more than a shot tonight.

[thighs-of-betrayal-blog]

Belong to You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Avenger! Reader (based on TFAWS)

Summary: When you are tasked with flirting with other men at Sharon’s party to get information about the Flag Smashers location, Bucky gets jealous and decides to remind you who you belong to. 

Warnings: Smut, 18+, cursing, alcohol, dirty talk

A/N: Wanted to switch it up and post my first smut piece. I suggest listening to “Belong to You” by Sabrina Claudio while reading. You won’t regret it. But, I hope you enjoy and as Sebastian Stan would say, goodnight and good luck!!

You stare in the mirror at the outfit Sharon lent you for the party. It was a major change from what you usually wear, which consisted of a t-shirt, leggings, and combat boots. Tonight though, you were looking at yourself in a tight, black dress that cut off mid-thigh and exposed both your entire chest and back. 

“You look great,” Sharon says. 

You try to tug the dress down a little more, but to no avail. “It’s a little short, don’t you think?”

Sharon looks at you confused. “No, not at all. You, my friend, are just used to your entire body being covered.” 

You sigh. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. Tell me again why I have to be the one to flirt with the bidders tonight to get information?”

“Because they all know me and you’re the only other woman we have on this team. Unless, of course, you think we should throw Zemo in there.” 

You let out a chuckle. “No, I’m sure that would be drastic.” 

Sharon smirks. “Which is exactly why we need you. Now, c’mon, we have information to pry out of these filthy rich bidders.” Sharon grabs your arms and drags you out of the bedroom. 

“Now, when you say it like that, I don’t feel so bad” you say.

Sharon looks at you and winks. “Atta girl.”

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

Sam is pulling on his shirt as Bucky walks into the room wearing a black suit jacket over a black shirt. 

“Well, what do we have here? I never thought I’d see the day where Bucky Barnes is wearing a suit jacket” Sam says. 

Bucky grimaces and tugs on the jacket’s sleeves. “Sharon made me wear it.” 

Sam comes up to Bucky and pats him on the back. “You’re looking good, tinman.” 

A snort comes from the other side of the room, where Zemo is walking towards them. “Neither of you know true fashion.” 

“And, you don’t know when to shut up,” Sam says. 

Before Zemo gets the chance to respond, the door opens and you walk in with Sharon. 

Your eyes immediately lock with Bucky’s and you notice his jaw clench. You can’t help but look him up and down. The tight suit jacket looks so good on him. When you make eye contact with him again, he sends you a smirk. He knows you were just checking him out. And, he is doing the same to you, shamelessly looking at your chest and down your legs. You decide to walk up and sit next to him. He instantly pulls you onto his lap and wraps his arms around you. 

“I don’t like this plan,” he whispers into your ear. 

You turn in his lap to look at his face. “It’s just for a couple of hours. We need this information. We have no leads.”

Bucky grunts and turns his head to speak to Sharon. “Tell me again why it needs to be Y/N?”

Sharon rolls her eyes. “We’ve been over this countless times, Bucky. It’ll only be for a couple of hours. One of the bidders here has to have a lead on Karli and her crew. Just try to contain your jealous self until we get the information we need. ” 

Zemo speaks up, “She is right. Y/N is our only option right now.” 

Bucky shoots Zemo a glare. 

“Like I said before, he doesn’t know when to shut up,'' Sam says. 

Sharon looks at you. “You ready?” 

You feel Bucky's arms tighten around you and give him a quick glance before looking back at Sharon. “Let’s do this.”

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

You throw back another shot as the man next to you leans in close.

“Let’s dance, sweetheart,” he says in your ear. 

You instantly shudder out of disgust, but turn around to grab his hand and lead him to the dance floor anyway. The man turns you around, so you’re grinding. You close your eyes and let out a long breath. When you reopen them, you see Bucky standing against the wall across the room, staring at you. 

“I’m sorry,” you mouth to him. 

He continues to just stare at you, as he pulls his beer up to his lips and takes a long swig. 

The man behind you pulls you out of your thoughts. “Glad to have your pretty face here with me tonight. Something to keep the funeral out of my mind.”

Your interest piques and you turn your head to look at him. “What funeral?” you ask. 

He lets out a sigh. “Mama Donya. Poor thing just passed away a few days ago. It’s tragic. She was such a kind soul.” 

You fake astonishment. “Mama Donya? The Mama Donya? That’s horrible! Where is the funeral taking place? I have to go and pay my respects.” 

“In the old building on Norfolk,” he responds. “Maybe we can go together.” His grip on your waist tightens. 

Now having the information you needed, you decide to find a way out of dancing with this stranger. “I’m feeling really tired all of a sudden. It must be those shots I took earlier. I’m going to find a place to sit down.” 

The man grabs your arm. “I’ll go with you.”

Before you can respond, you feel metal touching the skin at the bottom of your back. 

“She’s coming with me,” Bucky says, standing behind you. 

The man looks at Bucky angrily. “The hell she is. She’s mine, man, back off.” 

Bucky’s metal arm is around the man’s throat in seconds. “Get away from her now, before you regret it.”

The man immediately looks at you and scoffs, before walking away. 

You turn to look at Bucky. “I had that handled.”

He looks back at you. “I know, but I was tired of watching men put their hands all over you.” 

Bucky grabs your hand and starts pulling you off the dance floor, away from the crowd.

“Where are we going?” you ask. 

He doesn’t answer. 

You roll your eyes. “You’ll be pleased to know I got the information.”

“I know,” he replies. 

“How did you know?” you ask. 

He points at his ear. Ah, super soldier hearing. 

After a few seconds of walking, you reach a door. Bucky pushes it open and pulls you inside. As soon as you get through the door, you’re pushed up against it, with Bucky right in front of you. 

“I think you need a little reminder,” he says, voice lower than before. 

You look at him confused. “A reminder of what?” you ask. 

His metal hand grabs your throat and he looks deep into your eyes. “Who you fucking belong to.” 

You gasp and his mouth is on yours in an instant. You moan into his mouth and he shoves his tongue inside, fighting yours for dominance. The metal hand on your throat runs down to your hip, pushing you further into the door. He pushes his knee in between your legs to separate them. 

“Bucky,” you moan, as he slides his hand in your pants and runs his finger over your clit. 

“Whose pussy is this?” he asks. His eyes are staring deep into yours, waiting for an answer. 

“Yours” you manage to breathe out. “Always yours.” 

He slips a finger inside of you. “And, don’t you fucking forget it.” 

You throw your head back and moan loudly. “Don’t stop, please” you beg. 

“Wouldn’t fucking dream of it, doll. Going to make you scream so loud, everyone is going to hear you.”

Bucky pulls his hand out of your pants and you whimper. Before you can start to beg again though, he pulls off your shirt and attaches his mouth to your left nipple. 

“You’re wearing too much” you say. 

Bucky looks up at you and steps back to pull off his shirt and pants, then immediately goes back to sucking on your breasts. 

You move your hands to his chest, running them down to the top of his pants, before you tug his zipper down. 

“Bucky, I need you inside of me. Please.”

Bucky stops his assault on your chest to look up at you. “Your wish is my command, doll. I’m gonna fill you up so good.” 

He yanks his boxers down, while you pull your own pants and underwear down impatiently. 

He grabs you and picks you up, you wrapping your legs around his waist as he slams you into the door. He’s inside of you in seconds, and you scream from the feeling of him stretching you out. 

“Fuck, doll” he grunts out. “You’re so fucking tight. Feel so good wrapped around me.” 

He buries his face into your neck and picks up his pace, slamming into you repeatedly. 

“I’m not going to last long, Buck.”

Bucky moves his head to look at you. “Good. I want you to cum all over me.” 

He slams his mouth onto yours and you moan into him. He runs his metal hand down to rub your clit. “Be a good girl and cum for me, baby.” 

With the feeling of his fingers on your clit and him thrusting into you, you tighten around him and let go. Bucky reaches his orgasm right after you, spilling inside of you. 

Panting heavily, Bucky leans in to give you one more kiss on the lips before pulling out and helping you stand up. 

He hands you your clothes and stares at you as he gets dressed. 

“What?” you ask. 

He shakes his head and smiles. “I just love you, that’s all.” 

You smile back at him. “I love you too.” 

Before you can say anything else, there’s a sudden knock on the door. 

“If you two are done fucking now, hurry up and get dressed so we can leave,” yells Sam on the other side of the door. 

You walk up to Bucky and grab his shirt collar. “That’s our cue, lover boy.” 

He grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers. “After you, doll.”