#he had his front and back leg being torn open

[daydaydayrk420]

Hello again, this is the anon that asked about Stardew. I am gunna assume that that "Yes" means you still write/wanna write for Stardew. And you didnt give me the characters youre willing to write for.

Gunna request something with Alex x reader. Where reader woke up early in the morning to go fishing then in the afternoon to tend to the farm. Alex watching reader do their thing in the farm whilst him staying home.

Then hes confused as to why reader wasnt home yet til 1am. Reader just got back from the mines carrying loads of minerals. Placing the bag with the loudest sigh. Then reader gets grabbed by Alex and was shocked Alex was still awake but let him be lead.

Then Alex pushed the reader to their bed, singing praises to reader on how responsible and reliable reader is. Exploring reader's body then slowly undresses reader.

Alex ends up taking care of reader by bouncing on reader's cock whilst continuing raining praises.

TLDR: subtop!reader had a jam-packed day then was dragged dombottom!alex to their bed to show his appreciation for being such a great spouse

Sorry for the long request 🙏

If this is too much or something then ignore/delete

(also NICE, stardew is very much more enjoyable playing with friends fr fr)

You are my gem

Alex x male reader

⚠️sub top reader, dom bottom alex⚠️

🚨 Minors and girls do not interact🚨

📜Y/n comes home late from mine stripping, just to find his husband still awake and waiting📜

🖋1257 words

7pm.

It's getting close to Alex's bedtime. He has to wake up early tomorrow for his daily workout.

This morning, Alex was surprised to wake up to an already empty bed. Y/n was up and awake by 7am, making coffee and other kinds of meals that, as y/n says, regenerate him.

And now he can't help but worry about his husband and his absence.

He knows that y/n went strip mining with how he packed his bag full of food and bombs. And that fact doesn't help him relax whatsoever.

8pm.

Still no sign of his husband.

If Alex stays up late, he's definitely going to sleep in tomorrow.

9pm.

"Come on, y/n, where are you?" Alex muttered as he tried to focus on the TV in front of him.

10pm.

Alex is fighting to keep his head up.

11.

Alex has given up. He makes his way towards the kitchen to get one of y/n's Triple Shot Espressos.

12.

Alex has drunk up to five espressos... He's definitely not falling asleep now.

1am.

The front door creaks open. Alex's head snaps towards the sound with anticipation.

Y/n walks in, covered in smudges, and his clothes are torn. His eyes are tired, and his legs are weak. What catches Alex's eye the most is the heavy backpack that is practically spilling over.

Y/n drops the bag at the door so he can take it to the box in the morning. He stretches with a groan.

"Hey, handsome." Alex purred as he grabbed y/n's hand and pulled him towards the bedroom.

Y/n jumps in surprise at the unexpected touch. "Alex? Why are you awake at this hour?" Y/n pondered out loud as he followed his husband into the bedroom.

Alex pushes his husband into the bed and straddles him. "You are such an amazing husband, you know that?" Alex praised as he grabbed some wet wipes that lay on the nightstand and gently wiped the stains off y/n's face.

"You're the best husband anyone could ask for." Alex purred as he gently wiped y/n's cheek.

"Such a beautiful and loving husband."

At this point, y/n's face grew red with blush.

"Doing so much hard work to provide for us." Alex leans in to pepper soft kisses onto y/n's now clean face.

"You push yourself to the limit for us to have money the next day. Sometimes I wish you'd just take a day off and let me take care of you." As Alex said that, his hands traveled down y/n's jaw to his shoulders. His touch is gentle and slow. He's taking his time with this. With appreciating y/n's body.

"I am so lucky to have you." Alex purred once their lips finally met.

Y/n moans, and his hands find Alex's thick thighs.

"You work so hard and still find time to take care of me." Alex's eyes held gratitude.

"It's about time I take care of you, don't you think?" Alex purred and kissed y/n's chest.

The farmer closed his eyes and relaxed into the sheets.

Alex took his time. His hands trailed over y/n's hips. His fingers traced the hem of the farmer's flannel.

"You worked so hard today, you must be so tense," Alex murmured as his fingers traced over y/n's abs. "I'm such a lucky man. Having a husband who provides for us. Takes care of me, of the house, the farm. And his body... God, his body." Alex groans and lets his hands wander up to the farmer's chest.

"No matter how much fat this body can gain. These..." Alex's words trail off as he kisses one of y/n's biceps. "These will always be strong enough to lift me and the house." The sportsman playfully nibbled on Y/n's biceps until he eventually left a hickie on hit.

Once that's done, his hands slowly start to unbutton the farmer's flannel.

Y/n's eyes open and look up at Alex. He's never felt so loved.

"You always have to make it about muscles, huh?" Y/n joked.

Alex chuckles and looks at y/n's body, that's finally been revealed.

He licks his lips and runs his hands over the farmer's chest. He playfully squeezes his husband's pecs. Y/n gasps and swats the athlete's prying hands away.

They both laugh. But Alex doesn't give in, and his hands find the farmer's chest again.

"You can't stop me from touching my favourite pillows," Alex teased and leaned in to kiss y/n's chest.

Y/n chuckles and runs his hands through Alex's hair.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" Alex purred as he kissed his way down to the farmer's pants.

The farmer closed his eyes and leaned back. His hand is still in Alex's hair.

Y/n lifts his hips so Alex can remove his pants and underwear.

Alex takes his time. He kisses y/n's hips. His hands wander over the farmer's thighs. His touch is gentle. Comforting even. His fingers gently massage soft circles into y/n's thighs as his lips trail down, leaving a warm path in their wake.

"Alex, please, I want to feel you before I pass out." Y/n pleaded.

The sportsman chuckles and sits up. "Alright, gimme a minute." He said with a chuckle as he started to strip.

Y/n watched eagerly, his dick slowly waking in his lap.

Alex reached towards the nightstands and pulled out the lube and a condom.

The farmer reached out to take the condom so he could put it on, but the athlete spots him. "N, no. I'm doing all the work today."

Y/n is about to protest, but he gets interrupted by Alex opening the pack of condoms.

He shuts his mouth and lies back.

Alex gently rolls the condom onto y/n's dick and gives it a few strokes. The farmer moans and closes his eyes.

Alex adds lube to his fingers and lubes both of them up so he can sink down onto y/n better. And when he does, they both moan in sync.

"You make me feel so good, y/n." Alex moaned and wasted no time.

He lifts his hips just to immediately sit back.

Y/n's hands find Alex's hips. His lips part, and his eyes try their best to stay open.

"Alex." He moaned as his hands tariled up to grab the athelete's ass. "Your hands are so perfect. They know just how to hold me." Alex purred as he kept bouncing.

Y/n lifts his hips to angle them just right to hit his husband's G-spot.

"Oh, you know just how to handle me." Alex moaned as he threw his head back.

"You're so good to me. So perfect. I knew you were the right one for me." He moaned as one of y/n's hands found his cock and stared stroking it.

Alex chants praises at his husband as his knees get weaker and his bouncing starts to stutter.

"You're so good to me. So god damn good." Alex moaned as he collapsed on top of his husband and climaxed.

Y/n wraps his arms around his husband and fills the condom with his own climax.

"I love you so much." The farmer said with a whine as he buried his face in the athlete's hair.

Alex smiles tiredly. "I love you too, y/n."

They lazily clean up before they snuggle up under the covers. Limb tangled with limb, heartbeat matching heartbeat, they both hold each other like it's all that matters.

And just as 2am hits the clock. Y/n passed out.

Alex chuckles and kisses the farmer's forehead before he lets sleep take over his body as well.

[burningkingpeach]

Republicans are the type of people to want a woman dead for aborting a 1 day old fetus that was going to grow up in an abusive foster home and then starve to death after aging out of the system, but will tell you to put down your dog if it stubbed its toe

[nochepsicodelica]

"Really?" Toji asks, nudging your shoulder to wake you up, when he gets a good look at your back turned to him. His voice is slightly raspy with sleep, low in volume from its lack of use.

"Mm..." you hum in response, eyes shut as you try to ease back into slumber. You're in a curled position, your limbs wrapped around one of your extra pillows.

"Really?" Toji repeats, pawing at your shoulder, again.

"Yes, Toji," you say, quietly, not understanding what he's talking about, but agreeing just so that you can get back to sleep.

"Be serious, ma. Really?"

"What?" You ask, your tone somewhat laced with irritation, now.

It goes quiet for a few seconds, and then out of nowhere you hear the sheets rustling and the bed feels lighter. You're thinking there's no way he's so upset that he's leaving the room to sleep on the couch. He's the one who seemingly didn't want to cuddle, so you made do with what you had and grabbed a pillow.

You're snapped out of your attempt to go back to sleep when you feel your pillow trying to be yanked out of your arms.

"Let go of it," Toji mutters.

"What-" you grunt as you pull back and attempt to keep the pillow in your grasp. "What are you doing? Get back in bed, Toji." You hold on as tight as you can to the pillow that is slowly being torn out of your hands. "You're not gonna like when I let go and you're flung towards the wall."

"And you're not gonna like the punishment you earn if that happens. Let go of the pillow. Now."

You stare Toji down, holding your own against him. You know this isn't all of his strength and that he can easily rip the pillow out of your clutches, if he really wanted to, but like a dog with something it shouldn't have in its mouth, you're unwilling to do what he says.

"Listen up, doll, if you don't let go in the next five seconds, you're in for it."

"You're the one who pushed me away."

"Five."

"I need to hug something to sleep comfortably."

"Four."

"It's a pillow, Toji," you say, incredulously.

"Three."

"You're gonna take away my source of comfort?"

"Two."

"Toji."

"One. Let go."

"Oh my god," you groan, irritatedly. "Fine." You release the pillow, allowing Toji to take it away. You watch in disbelief as he throws it at the door so you can't get it without leaving the bed. You huff and scoot as close as you comfortably can to your end of the bed without falling off, before he returns to his side.

"Geeet back here." An arm is thrown over your waist, dragging you closer towards the center of the bed, until your back meets his front and his legs are tangled with yours. "Where are you going, huh? Still chasing after that pillow?"

"All of a sudden you wanna be close to me?" You scoff, in disbelief.

"So much attitude," he murmurs. His hand goes under your shirt, gliding up your warm skin to rest on your tummy. "Need me to give it to you all seven days, now?"

"No," you grumble.

"Well, that's what it's sounding like, to me." A kiss is planted on your shoulder. "Fix that tone, mama."

"You're so unfair. You're the one who didn't want to be held, but as soon as you noticed that I wasn't holding you, you took away my source of comfort. What did you want me to do, Toji?"

"I didn't even push you away, I rolled away in my sleep. It doesn't count."

You just hum in response, no longer in the mood to bicker about something so trivial when you could be working on getting back to sleep. A few seconds of silence go by, a spark of tension formed due to your lack of words.

"Ma?" He calls, barely pinching your soft, warm skin.

You sigh, blinking your eyes open. "What?"

"You mad?" His hand flattens on your tummy, rubbing slowly, as he waits for you to respond.

"No," you say, quiet and icy, even in its subtlety.

"That's a lie," Toji says, chuckling. "Come on, doll. What's got you all hot?"

It's hard not to melt into his touch. The kisses he presses to your shoulder only add on to the difficulty.

"Doesn't matter," you say, still trying to remain stoic.

"Yeah, it does. Now, tell me," he insists. "You're really gonna make me beg at almost two in the morning?"

"I was sleeping, and you woke me up 'cause you were butthurt over me hugging a pillow. There. Does that satisfy you?" You respond, and Toji has the audacity to laugh. You want to laugh too, but your stubbornness and pride will not easily allow you to.

"Poor baby," he coos, a mocking lilt to his tone. "You wanna tell me how to make it better?"

"You're an ass," you bite, no sharpness in your tone whatsoever.

"Ooh, I can hear that pout. You want a kiss? 'Cause I can give you one," he whispers, in your ear.

"Shut up," you mumble, trying not to give away the curling of your lips.

"You want a baby in here?" He asks, gently pressing into your stomach with his index finger.

"No! What?" You say, your giggles finally beginning to surface.

"Gotcha. Made you laugh," he says, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. He presses a kiss to the area before squeezing you in his arms, tight enough to make you groan until he eases up. "Now, tell me how to make it better. Come on, ma. It's not good to go to sleep mad."

You sigh, not wanting to argue with this annoying, yet, charming man, anymore. "Just help me get back to sleep," you mumble.

"Oh, I can do that," he says, a low chuckle homing into your ears. His hand lifts your shirt up more, aiming to get more access to your chest.

"Not like that, you perv!" You chide, pinning his hand on your mid-center. "Can you do that thing you always do?" You guide his hand down, until it rests just above your navel. He knows what you mean, and if this is what it takes for you to not be mad at him, he'll do it.

"You're like a baby that needs to be soothed to sleep," Toji murmurs, as he begins caressing your tummy, drawing little shapes on your skin that fuel your tiredness.

You huff out a laugh. "Acting like you don't drool and snore the second I start playing with your hair when you lay your head on my chest."

[all-with-angel]

𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐈𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄! •°. *࿐

Summary: How the Yandere JJK Characters kidnap you after you blocked and ran away from them!~ FINALE to this series

Including: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Sukuna Ryomen, Shoko Ieiri, Uraume

Content. Yandere, Dark themes, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Drugging, this is actually terrifying so beware, gn!reader !DARK THEMES!

w.c. 300-700 per character || Masterlist ||

MINOR AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI. Masterlist

❥ SATORU GOJO

The quiet hum of the refrigerator was the only sound left in the house. The lights were off, curtains drawn, the TV screen still faintly glowing from earlier, casting eerie shadows along the walls. You sat crouched in the back of your closet, breath caught in your throat, your phone tightly clutched in your trembling hands.

It was dead quiet, save for the heavy drum of your heart in your ears.

You heard the front door open- No, you heard it break three minutes ago. Two minutes ago, you started to hear whistling. An upbeat tune, filling in every corner of your home. Slowly getting louder. Then came his voice, unmistakably bright and sing-song, echoing down the hall like sugar-coated dread.

"Heyyy~ You’re being kinda rude, y'know.” Gojo Satoru called out, footsteps heavy against the hardwood floor. You didn’t breathe. Not as his voice drifted closer. Not as the floor creaked near your bedroom.

“Also, not to be pushy, but…” Gojo’s voice lowered, took on that deceptively lazy tilt that meant he was far too aware. “Why’d you block me, huh? That was really mean. You’re supposed to be nicer to your friends. Or future boyfriend.” He giggled, as if blushing at the thought.

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Your heartbeat was thunder in your ears. The doorknob to your bedroom rattled, but silence followed.

You were confused, hope crawling deceptively up your spine. Maybe he had left? 

Maybe?

That hope was crushed just as quickly. The closet door opened and you didn’t even hear a single footstep. He was smiling, his usual grin but there was something manic behind it. He had his blindfold off, bright blue eyes staring right into your soul. Those cerulean eyes- normally so bright and charming, the same ones you had trusted up until a few hours ago- were dilated and glowing in the dark. “You had your fun playing your games sweetheart,”

His smile grew wider.

“My turn to play.”

❥ SUGURU GETO

The alley stank of copper.

You stood at the edge of it all, frozen beneath a flickering street lamp that buzzed like it, too, was on the verge of collapse. The sky above had long turned black, the stars drowned by storm clouds that hadn’t yet cried. The silence was thick and wrong. The kind of silence that followed a massacre.

There were bodies. Not neatly placed, not respectfully laid out- no, they were torn. Crushed.

Your legs trembled. You couldn’t breathe without tasting iron. You wanted to throw up. You should have thrown up. But you were too paralyzed, heart pounding so hard it hurt. Your fingers twitched at your sides, useless after doing such a small action such as texting Geto. 

Curses still lingered, slithering in the shadows like rats with too many teeth, but they peeled away with sudden, eerie reverence. Something stronger had arrived. Something worse. He’s here, he said over text.

Geto Suguru, all calm smiles and slow, unhurried steps, like he hadn’t just orchestrated a massacre in your name. His robes fluttered in the soft breeze. There wasn’t a speck of blood on him.

“Ah,” he said gently, as if greeting a wayward child, “my dear.”

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t move. Your knees locked, rooted to the blood-soaked pavement as Geto gently cupped your face with a finger. He frowned, mocking, as if disappointed. “Do you see now?” he asked softly. “This... all of this could’ve been avoided.”

He sighed, shaking his head as he did so.

“You made me do this.”

Tears welled up on your eyelids- Just for a moment, before they all came spilling out. “You poor thing,” Geto cooed at you, bringing his sleeve to help wipe your ever flowing tears. “It’s okay, everyone makes mistakes. I forgive you.” He held your face, hands deceptively warm as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

“You must’ve been so scared. Don’t worry. It’s over now. I’ll take care of everything.” 

You shivered before giving in and curling into him, letting yourself be enveloped in dark robes. “‘m sorry.” You whispered. It wasn’t for him, but for the people dragged into this mess and killed. If he knew that, he didn’t care.

“I know.” He hummed, threading his fingers through your hair. “I’m glad you’ve learned your lesson, my dear.”

❥ NANAMI KENTO

Your head was pounding.

A slow, dull throb pulsed behind your eyes like someone had taken a sledgehammer to your skull and wrapped the aftermath in cotton. You groaned softly, face turned into soft, cool sheets that didn’t feel like your own. You shifted instinctively- but something clinked.

Metal. A sharp sound, cold and wrong, echoed in the otherwise suffocating silence. You froze. Again, you moved- Just slightly, and the noise returned. A dragging sound. Chains.

You blink your eyes open, the world spinning and blurring into one mess before you were able to focus on your surroundings. The room was dim but luxurious, cast in warm amber light. High ceilings, velvet drapes. Hardwood floors covered in imported rugs. Everything looked pristine, untouched. Like something out of a dream.

Your wrist was shackled to the bedpost with a sleek but heavy steel cuff. Another bound your ankle.

Your heart lurched. You tried to get off of the bed, but the restraint at your ankle tugged you back with a soft clink. Panic bloomed in your chest.

As if on cue, a door you barely noticed in the corner of the room opened.

Nanami stepped into the room, dressed in a loose, elegant button-down and black slacks, sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows. His tie was gone. In his hands, he carried a silver tray with your favorite food—exactly how you liked it. Steam still wafted from the dishes.

He looked at you with such fondness, as if this was just another quiet evening between lovers.

“You’re awake,” he said, smiling softly. “I was beginning to worry.”

He walked closer, placing the tray on the nightstand. You shifted back, sheets rustling under you. His voice remained even, calm. Dangerously so. “I know your head must hurt. I tried to be gentle, I’m very sorry.”

You recoiled instinctively as he reached out to brush your hair from your face, but he didn’t seem offended. In fact, he looked saddened.

“I knew you'd panic,” he murmured. “But you have to understand... this was the only way.”

“The only... way?” you rasped, eyes wide.

He nodded, sitting at the edge of the bed like this was perfectly normal. “You weren’t safe out there. You kept insisting on putting yourself in danger—talking to people you shouldn't, wandering off, trusting all the wrong hands.” His hand slid over yours, gently stroking your fingers- You flinched back. “So I made a choice. One that you’ll thank me for. Eventually.” He stayed calm, as if anticipating the reaction and resting his hands on his lap.

You screamed, curses and cries slipping past your lips. The chains rattled at every movement.

“It's alright. We have time. Days, weeks, years.” He smiled again. “You’ll come to see that this is right.”

Your heart hammered. The scent of vanilla was suffocating now. You were trapped. Alone. And he had planned this.

“You’re finally home.”

❥ TOJI FUSHIGURO

The warehouse was a maze of rusted scaffolding and forgotten crates, all shrouded in darkness. Moonlight filtered in through cracks in the boarded windows, carving slivers of silver across the floor. Your breaths came shallow, ragged, and you were sure they were nearly loud enough to echo off the metal walls. You pressed yourself into the narrow gap between two crates, clutching your legs to your chest, trying to make yourself smaller.

You could still hear his voice in your ears. He appeared right in front of you, a monster emerging from the shadows as he chased- cornered you into some dingy warehouse. You didn’t know how you ended up here, all that you know is that he planned this. Every turn you took, every time he sped up to just barely graze you, all planned. A predator hunting its prey.

You pressed a hand over your mouth to stifle the panicked sob threatening to escape. Every creak, every scuttle of rat claws across concrete made your skin crawl. Your ears strained for footsteps—his footsteps. But it was so damn quiet.

A faint tap. The subtle scrape of boots against the ground. Measured. Deliberate. Like he knew you could hear him.

You held your breath.

"Not a bad hiding spot," Toji called, his voice bouncing through the warehouse. You couldn’t tell how far or how close he was. "Took you a while to start learning, huh?" You could hear the grin in his voice.

Then you heard the echo of metal on metal. Loud clangs filling your ears as you could imagine Toji dragging his blade across steel beams.

"You remember when I told you I liked the chase?" he said, somewhere to your left now. "Still true. But you running off like that… breaking the lock on our door? Kinda hurt my feelings, y’know."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Your lungs burned. You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath until black spots danced at the edges of your vision. Quietly, carefully, you inhaled through your nose.

CLANG.

A crate slammed to the floor just a few rows down and you flinched violently. The sound rang through the warehouse like a death knell. Wood splintered. Dust filled the air.

He was closer. You still couldn’t see him. The warehouse was quiet for far too long after that. Not a whisper nor the wind reached your ears.

“Gotcha.” His voice. Right behind you.

You screamed, scrambling to your feet—but he was already there, arm wrapping around your middle like a vice, yanking you back. Cold steel kissed your throat—not cutting, not yet, just resting there, a silent promise.

He was laughing. Leaning down right beside your ear to whisper, “Don’t move. We don’t want my knife in your throat now do we?” You froze, going limp in his hold save for how you were shaking.

You could hear the grin in his voice and you could only shiver as you felt his arm hold you tighter, cold blade tracing against your neck. “Now, let’s go home. You’re tired, right? I’ll tuck you in. Lock the doors better this time.”

You weren’t going anywhere.

❥ SUKUNA RYOMEN

Sukuna didn’t give out warnings lightly. He already gave his in the form of every glare and threat he threw your way, you knew  he wasn’t a safe man. It was stupid of you to think he wasn’t the stalker behind your problems, now, everything was worse.

You were so close.

The terminal lights glowed like a distant promise ahead, the sliding glass doors of the airport practically calling your name. Crowds bustled around you — strangers moving fast, eyes on their luggage, not on the one person trying to escape something far more dangerous than a missed flight.

You left Sukuna’s lair when he was preoccupied, gone to retrieve his fingers. You gave no warning nor sign either. Keeping up the facade of an obedient pet up to the second he left for that mission. You’d planned this. You’d waited until they were out. You’d done everything right.

It didn’t matter. Not to someone like Sukuna.

The floor trembled beneath your feet like the earth itself was exhaling. Something wrong stirred at the edge of your senses, something ancient and furious and intimately familiar. The taxi you were in was flipped, just like every other vehicle in proximity. Your head swam, glass and metal getting thrown around.

You were distantly aware of the sounds of screams, destruction, explosions, as you tried to regain your consciousness. The car was roughly shoved to the side, something digging into your side painfully as you felt warm blood splash onto your face. Beside you, your driver was dead. Cleaved into pieces.

Then, you were ripped from your seat. Your eyes met Crimson. Four crimson eyes glowed like open wounds in the dark, fixed solely on you. You were held up by your collar. “Leaving without saying goodbye?” he asked, voice velvet over steel. “That’s not very polite.” He dropped you to the floor, his eyes never leaving you.

You scrambled backward, palms scraping the concrete, breath heaving.

“You said you’d be good,” like a pet, he growled, taking slow steps towards you, head tilting to the side like you were a curious insect he hadn’t yet decided whether to spare or dissect. “I see now that was a lie.”

His tone was calm — too calm — and that scared you more than screaming ever could. You knew he was angry, judging by the state of your surroundings.

“I gave you everything,” he whispered, taking a slow step forward. “Warmth. Food. Safety. You had the honor of being mine.”

Your breath hitched when he came closer, heart slamming against your ribs. “I’m not yours, I’m not a pet.” you breathed.

 “Let’s not pretend you were ever in control of this, pet.” He sneered, and before you knew it, he was crouched in front of you- His claws digging into the sides of your face as he held it in one hand. His eyes were that of a monster, a wolf ready to eat you whole.

You felt blood and tears roll down your face, all as he watched with a dark but unmoving expression. “I would laugh, if I wasn’t still enraged by your audacity to try and escape me.” 

He pulled your face closer to his, his other hand gripping your thigh hard enough to draw blood. The pain was nothing compared to the dread in your chest. The fact that solidified itself in your mind now that you could fully see how deranged the curse in front of you was.

The silence that followed would be remembered by the world—because you, after tonight, wouldn’t be remembered at all.

❥ SHOKO IERI

You burst out of the café like it had caught fire behind you, lungs tight, phone gripped in your sweaty palm. Your bag slapped against your side as you stumbled into the dark, nearly empty parking lot. The only sound was your breath- uneven, ragged- and the distant hum of a streetlight buzzing overhead like it was trying to warn you.

You didn’t see anyone in the café. No sign of her. But her text… the timestamp matched the moment you sat down. And that meant she had been watching. She could still be watching.

You hit the key fob three times in a panic. The car lights blinked. You yanked the door open, practically diving into the driver's seat. You jammed the key into the ignition—hands shaking so bad you almost missed it.

The car wouldn’t start. What was the goddamn problem?? Not the engine. That clicked fine. No resistance in the brake. No rumble. Just a soft click. So why—

Then you saw her reflection. In the rearview mirror. A pair of calm, brown eyes. “Hey,” Shoko said softly, her voice a lullaby wrapped in a smile. “Miss me?”

You whipped around, nearly kicking the door open in your scramble to escape. But a hand—gloved, steady—reached forward and caught your shoulder. You felt a sting to your neck, you screamed- but it wasn’t heard. By anyone that wasn’t you or shoko, atleast.

Shoko winced from behind you. “Sorry.” You pulled whatever was stuck in your neck, yanking it out and throwing it on the passenger seat. An empty syringe. 

The world quite literally tilted on you seconds after you realized. Shoko’s next words came muffled to your ears. “I hate using chemicals,” she murmured, sighing as she opened the car door.

You could barely register as you felt yourself growing laxer and laxer, practically limp when Shoko hauled you out of the drivers seat and into the backseat. Shoko brushed your hair back from your face. Her touch was tender. Reverent.

You tried to move your mouth, to beg, to scream. Nothing came out but a whimper. She leaned closer, her breath warm against your cheek. Her lips barely moved. You could barely keep your eyes open.

“Don’t worry. You aren’t going anywhere.”

❥ URAUME

The kitchen was warm, filled with the scent of garlic and something sweet. You stirred the pot lazily, the soft bubbling of the sauce helping you pretend that everything was fine. Pretend that the feeling of eyes on you ever since you had ran from Uraume didn’t exist, didn’t bother you.

The shadows in your house had gotten longer. Or maybe they were moving. You reached for the knife on the counter with trembling fingers. Don’t look. Just keep cooking. It’s in your head. It has to be. You had checked the place multiple times, everything was locked. It was safe.

It was cold. You shivered, leaving the kitchen to turn the thermostat up. You frowned as it was glitching, breaking right in front of your eyes. Then you heard a click of the stove from the kitchen.

You turned. And there they were. Uraume stood just inside your kitchen, pale as fresh snow, expression as calm as ever as they traced the edge of the pot. They left frost in their wake. You gasped, taking a few steps back as you could feel the temperature drop to freezing.

“Making dinner without me?” Uraume���s voice was level, almost amused. “How cold.”

Their eyes finally glanced up, finally locking with yours. You could barely make out that the soup you were making was frozen solid now. Uraume took a step towards you for every one you took backwards, until you hit the wall. You were frozen in place, their eyes keeping you in place.

You glance towards the knife rack, just a quick dash away.

“I wouldn’t,” they said, tilting their head. “You’re shaking. You’d just embarrass yourself.” The entire knife rack was frozen before you could even blink. A blur of white, cold fingers wrapped around your neck.

Warm breath escaped you in a silent scream, silenced by Uraume’s glare. You could feel the danger, the threat in front of you.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” Uraume started, their voice level, just enough to hide the raging storm. “About how you’re always so careful. So distant. Like you’re afraid of me.”

“Stop,” you croaked, but your words felt weak in your throat. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Uraume said, voice almost thoughtful as if answering a basic question from a toddler “I just want to keep you. To have you all to myself.”

“Why?” You pleaded.

They didn’t answer that. A chill ran up your spine at the long silence. Uraume gripped your throat tighter, ice and bruises starting to bloom on your neck.

“It doesn’t matter.” They finally answered, just above a murmur. You were confused at the tinge of pink on their cheeks as they looked away for once. The hell?

That confusion ended just as quickly as it came, as dark spots started to appear in your vision. Uraume, as if sensing the sudden change, looked right back at you. There was a ghost of a smile on their lips, empty.

“You’re better off with me. It’s okay,” They almost cooed, “I'll keep you forever.”

A.N. I do not condone any of this behavior!! This terrified ME while I was writing I'll be fr- if this is cringe then i apologize

Taglist: @catladythoughts @tojifushiguroszaddyzar

[tokeposts]

𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚘

pairing: ex!katsuki bakguou x gn!reader

warnings/genre: angst, hurt/no comfort, cussing, jealousy

notes: this one’s a doozy </3

989 | after your break up with bakugou, you thought things would be easy. that the feelings would go away, but unconsciously he’s determined to prove you wrong.

the door creaks as you push it open, stepping inside without a thought. his place is dimly lit, the only glow coming from the muted TV in the corner. bakugou is slouched on his couch, one arm draped over his stomach. the other clutching at his side. his costume is torn, scorched at the edges revealing his hard muscles underneath

if this was before, you’d laugh, poke fun at him for being reckless and help nurse him back to health. but it’s different now.

you cough, throat drying up suddenly.

his red hues narrowed, not looking at you when he speaks. “told you i was fine.”

you shake your head then make a beeline for his bathroom. he doesn’t stop you, doesn’t say a word as you disappear down the hall.

inside, you rummage through the cabinet, your heart trembling in its confines. everything feels so achingly familiar. his favorite aftershave still sits on the counter, half empty. the cabinet is still stocked with painkillers. the ones he used to keep around for your sudden headaches and sore muscles.

then your eyes land on something else— your old toothbrush, still in its usual spot. the sight of it is a stake to the heart. you have to pause, inhale slowly, and let the ache pass before you can collect yourself again

finally, you spot what you came here for: the first aid kit. he never had one until you moved in. one clumsy accident, one shattered glass, and by the next morning, there it was. the white and red box tucked neatly beneath the sink like it had always belonged.

you return back to bakugou, dropping the first aid kit onto his coffee table with a sharp thud. “and i don’t believe you.”

his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t argue when you kneel in front of him, finding purchase between his legs. carefully you peel back the remains of his costume to assess the damage. his breath hitches but says nothing. up close, the cuts are worse. deep gashes across his arms, bruises blooming across his ribs. he smells like sweat, like smoke, like battle.

you scoff. “you’re so fucked.”

he snorts. “yeah? couldn’t tell.”

silence stretches between you as you start cleaning his wounds, the only sound the quiet hiss he lets out when alcohol meets ripped skin. he doesn’t flinch though. he never does.

but there’s something about tonight that feels different like the air between you is heavier, thick with all the things left unsaid. your hands are careful, but your mind is restless filled with questions you’ve wanted to ask for weeks.

when you look down at bakugou, his eyes are hazy fixated on something behind you, but he knows exactly what you’re thinking. he knows what the crease in between your brow means. reading you was easy, a habit he can’t seem to shake despite the break up. it all leads to one question: why?

his fingers flex against his knee, as if the motion alone would be enough to stop him from reaching out to touch you. to comfort you. to feel you. the muscle in his shoulders stiffen. you’re so close. the wires in his brain feels fried.

“i’m leaving.” the words leave his mouth without a thought.

you freeze bandage half-wrapped around his forearm

“next month. for the hero exchange. ‘m going to america.” his voice is quiet like he doesnt want to say the words any more than you want to hear them.

you hands drop to your sides. “that’s why you—”

“yeah.” he mumbles, running a bruise knuckled hand through his hair. deep red smears through his blond strands, catching where the skin split.

you want to laugh. you want to smile and pretend the man standing before you didn’t absolutely wreck you. so you do. it starts as a small chuckle, a dip in the waters, then seconds later its a full blown cackle. your body folds forward, leaning into him like he didn’t shatter your heart into fucking pieces

like everything is normal again.

he doesn’t look up. can’t. won’t face your laughter.

and that is what makes you scoff, fury rising sharp in your throat.

“why didn���t you just tell me?”

“what was i supposed to say? that i’m fuckin’ off across the world and expect you to just wait around? or worse? what? tell you to drop everything and come with?” his voice dips, something almost desperate underneath. “you can’t do that.”

“so instead of talking to me, you just… ended it?”

“it’s easier.”

you let out a short, humorless laugh. “easier for who?”

he doesn’t answer. it makes your throat feel tight. you don’t know what you want him to say. that he regrets it? that he didn’t mean it? that he does want you to come? was the thought of starting a life with you in america really that fucking bad?

the weight of the situation settles between you, suffocating and silent. but the more you think about it the more it makes sense. you’re family, your friends, your life— it would be unfair and even though you want to hate him for his decision, you can’t.

his teeth grit from the pain of his wounds or from this conversation, you’re not sure. it forces him to look up at you for the first time tonight. his eyes are steeled, narrowed and cold.

he’s decided already, you realize, and when bakugou is set on something there’s no changing his mind. even when it comes to you.

especially when it comes to you.

so you don’t push. you don’t beg. you don’t cry. you continue to wrap his wounds in silence unconsciously tightening the gauze as you go on.

“i’m done.” you mumble, tucking the loose ends of the cotton in itself. he hums in acknowledgment before leaning back into the cushions with a trembled sigh.

bakugou is still as you gather your things, his head titled back on the coach and eyes closed. it takes everything in him not to say goodbye, to not watch your figure linger slightly at his door, to not watch you leave right out of his life.

something inside him begs to move. it urges him to stand, to stop you. his leg bounces, fingers twitch with restless energy, but he stays frozen. instead he groans into the silence, and it twists into a primal scream— raw, guttural, and unrestrained.

you are gone, when he opens his eyes again.

[angstywaifu]

Fourth Wing Men Head Canon's - Masturbation

Summary: How would our Fourth Wing men react to walking in on their girl pleasuring themselves? Let's find out.

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Masturbation. Use of pet names. Signet Use - Shadowplay. Voyeurism. Teasing/Stimulation. Oral (F receiving). Insinuated P in V unprotected Sex. Very very slight Onyx Storm spoiler (use of a line a character says).

Masterlist | Links

Garrick

This man would just walk into your room without even knocking, catching you in the act. At first you wouldn’t even notice he was there, too caught up in what you we’re doing. Eyes closed as you pleasure yourself, your brain thinking of how good Garrick had looked earlier in challenges.

Garrick would close the door behind him quietly, his eyes completely focused on you and what you’re doing. His eyes watching every move you make, listening to the little moans and gasps coming from your lips. He’d be content on watching till just the right moment to make his presence known. Which is when his name falls from your lips.

He walks over to your bed, quietly removing his shirt and boots so he doesn’t alert you to his presence, before kneeling next your bed and pulling you towards him. Garrick chuckles as you shriek with surprise before trying to scramble away and cover yourself.

He’d tighten his grasp on your hips before standing up and leaning over you, pinning your wrists above your head as he looks down at your. “Where do you think you’re going sweetheart? You can’t moan my name like that and not expect me to do something about it.”

Before you can respond Garrick kneels back down and continues what you’d stopped, his fingers and mouth having you moaning and gasping before coming all over them multiple times.

Bodhi

He’d also just walk in, but unlike Garrick he would not be as subtle about it. He’d walk in, look over at your bed, eyes going wide as he scrambles to shut the door behind him with a loud bang which startles you.

Bodhi just stares at you with his hand still on the door he’s slammed shut. Torn between shocked and turned on at what he’s walked in on you doing, which causes you to giggle at him as you get up and walk over to him.

His eyes trailing over your naked body as you walk over to him, still unsure how to react to what he saw. He’s also a little hurt you had resorted to pleasuring yourself. But he was meant to be gone on a supply run till tomorrow.

Just as you get to him he’d snap out of it, grabbing your arm before he spins you both around, pinning you to the door before he kneels in front of you. Smirking up at you as he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, exposing you to him.

“Don’t worry darling, I’m here to take care of you now.” He tells you before devouring you.

Xaden

He’d know what you were up to before he even walked in to the door. He’d sneak in so he wouldn’t disturb you, leaning up against the door as he watches you pleasure yourself. Listening to the little noises you’d make while you pleasure yourself.

He wouldn’t walk over to you, instead he’d try something a little different. He’d control his shadows, slowly creeping them towards you so you wouldn’t be alerted to their presence and therefore his. Slowly they’d caress your body, adding to what you’re doing.

After a while Xaden wouldn’t be able to help himself and would make his presence known. His shadows no longer being soft and gentle. Instead they would wrap around your wrists, pulling them above your head as your eyes snap open and meet Xaden’s onyx eyes as he leans over you.

“So desperate. Not even a night and you’re already pleasuring yourself.” He’d teases as his shadows caress your body, causing you to tug at the one’s holding your wrists captive before you throw your head back and moan as they caress between your legs. “Now let me show you how it’s actually done.”

Liam

He’d close the door behind him lean up against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and smirk at the sight before him.

“Well, what do we have here?” He’d tease, not even trying to hide the fact he’s walked in on you.

You go to cover yourself up at the shock of Liam walking in on you, but he rushes forward and stops you, a soft smile on his lips as he looks down at you, his blonde hair flopping into his eyes.

“Don’t stop on my behalf love.” He’d say softly before kneeling between your legs, shrugging off his jacket and shirt. “We’re just getting started.”

He’d pull you back down the bed towards him as you yelp and giggle at his actions, before leaning in and placing soft kisses on your inner thigh before continuing what you’d started.

Dain

He’d be about to walk in, hand on the door handle when he’d hear you cry out. He’d mistake it for you being in pain and rush in ready to help you, but stop mid stride as your eyes snap open and meet his while you’re fingers are still inside you.

“Close the door!” You’d shriek at him, grabbing a pillow to throw at him before he quickly shuts the door, even though it’s later at night and no one is out in the halls. “I thought you were on patrol tonight?”

That was the only reason you’d chosen to do what you were doing. You were needy, had been craving him after watching him win his challenge with ease. But he’d been assigned patrol tonight, and you knew he wouldn’t drop it for the fact you were horny and desperate for him. So you’d done what you always did when he had a late night patrol.

“They had too many people on so they gave me the night off.” He tells you as he walks over to you. He reaches out and cups your cheek, not intending to read your thoughts, but because he’s so tired his shields aren’t as strong as they usually were. And he gets an insight to your thoughts. And he see’s this is not the first time you’ve done this.

“Do you do this every time I have patrol?” He says with shock, not expecting this to be a regular occurrence.

You bite your lip and nod as you aver your eyes from his, not sure if he’s angry that you do this regularly. It’s not your fault he looks so good taking on his opponents during challenges and always has patrols the same night.

“Eyes on me.” He tells you as he grips your chin and turns your head back towards him, causing your breath to catch in your throat. “Let’s get you taken care of.”

Brennan

He’d walk in as per normal, completely run down and tired from a day dealing with the assembly, shrugging out of his clothes. He’d look up, seeing your bed empty. You’d clearly been here though, the sheets messed up as if you’d gone to lie down.

Then he hears it. Your soft moans echoing from the bathroom door that’s open ever so slightly. The sound already having him hard and wanting you even with how tired and drained he is.

He pushes open the door to see you sat in the bathtub facing away from him, head thrown back over the edge with your eyes shut as you moan and shiver.

As he gets closer he can hear the water running, but the bath sounds suspiciously empty. And that’s when he see’s why you’re sat the way you are. The water is on, but it’s purpose is not to fill the bath. It’s to pleasure you, while you pump your fingers in and out. He can’t deny he’s not impressed by your creativeness.

He leans over the bathtub, being careful not to touch you as he turns the water off. Your eyes fly open, meeting Brennan’s amber eyes as he braces himself on the edge of the bathtub and looks down at you.

“Look at you being creative in my absence.” He teases as he reaches out and caresses your cheek, his thumb running over your swollen lip where you’ve tugged and dragged it though your teeth. “Now lets get you dried off so I can finish what you’ve started.”

Aaric

He would not be subtle about walking in on you. You wouldn’t hear him walk in, but he’d make his presence known. He’d stand there, arms crossed over his chest as he looks at you.

“Well, what do we have here.” He’d tease, a smirk pulling at the edge of his lips as you startle at his words, sitting upright as you scurry back on your bed clutching your chest till you realise it’s Aaric in your room.

He’d walk over to your bed, slowly taking off his boots, jacket and shirt before slowly undoing the ties of his pants and pushing them down his legs, watching as you squirm under his gaze before he kneels on your bed.

He’d grasp your ankles, pulling you towards him as you yelp in surprise. He’d push your legs apart before positioning himself between them and leaning over you as he braces himself on your bed with a hand either side your head.

He’d rock back and forth, the head of his dick slowly back and forth, teasing you as you squirm beneath him. “Someone’s needy tonight.” He’d murmur against your lips.

“P-please Aaric.” You’d beg as he continues to slowly rock back and forth, sometimes pushing the tip in just a little bit before pulling back out and going back to what he was doing.

“Please what? Use your words sweetheart.” He’d tell you, wanting you to beg for him. He might despise his father and everything his family stands for. But he can’t help but crave the way you beg and plead for him to please you.

And finally you do, begging him to fuck you, to ruin you. To give you what you’d been imagining in your mind before he walked in. “Good girl.”

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{ Heyyyy, So just watched a horror movie so expect some of that vibe in the story lol anyway to the story! }~

•Living Doll•

The old Drake manner has been moved into.

The house was bought by a man wearing a black suit and a purple hat that covered his face and for the life of anyone who talked with him they can’t remember his name or face but they could remember why he was buying the house, it was for his niece and nephew and as he has to travel around a lot for work they would live alone for the most part.

So when they heard this Bruce and Dick went over to say hello spy on the niece and nephew.

Who opens the door is a tall messy red haired woman who looks like she wants nothing more than to shut the door and pass the fuck out so Bruce puts on “Brucie” and starts talking to her about how he so happy to have a new neighbor and stuff while Dick looks around from where he is standing.

And that’s when he sees it a porcelain face and arm peeking out from behind a wall, the arm has light blue detailing on it and Dick couldn’t get a good look before the figure sees him looking at them and moving behind the wall the rest of the way and it seems the woman hear the figure and saw where Dick was looking and immediately shut the door in Bruce’s and Dicks faces.

This is definitely something for the Bats.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Background•

Jack and Maddie caught Danny changing back from Phantom, they hit him in the back of the head with a Fenton-bat and brought him down to the lab and they started to see what they could do..

Jazz had just came home from the school and looking for colleges to go to when she heard her parents in the basement and she thought nothing of it.

But when she didn’t hear or see Danny when Jazz knew that he was home that’s when she can tell something’s up so Jazz goes up to his room and that’s when she sees it the bloody bat with specks of a so familiar green.

That when Jazz feels her blood go cold and she books it down the stairs to the basement but the door is locked and she can hear Jacks and Maddie s tools cutting into something and Jazz knows what that something is. She starts trying to break down the door until she remembers the bat in the kitchen so she runs to the kitchen.

And thank all of the Ancients that it is still there so she grabs it and runs back and breaks down the door and that’s when she sees it.

Arms cut off and torn to shreds, legs broken beyond repair, muscles and organs removed and put in jars and the dead eyed look in her baby brothers eyes and his core in mother Maddies hand everything gets foggy.

The next time Jazz is presented she is sitting on the bathroom floor covered in blood with Danny’s light blue almost white glowing core in her hands and a very bloody bat next to her.

That’s when she hears it the sound of a string being pulled and Clockwork shows up in front of her and explains that now with Danny original body being torn apart (Which gets a death glare from Jazz) and how with his core still intact Jazz can make a new body for him but how they would need to leave this world as if they don’t this will happen again.

And Jazz immediately agrees.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Little Facts•

•Jazz a lot less sane than in the show

•Jazz is protective as hell of Danny 

•If you put a ghost core in an object to that is vaguely human they can take over it and over time the objects start to look like the ghost until it has turned into the ghost body!

•In the manner there all the books Jazz could need to make a new body for Danny and really anything Jazz or Danny could want

•Jazz is supposed to have a Fog Core while Danny has a Ice Core

•Jazz always has a gun of her making on her at all times, ALWAYS

•when Clockwork shows up randomly you can hear the sound of a string pulled

•The DCU side of this is inspired by This Au of mine

•Jazz found all of hers and Danny’s clothes already in the manner and she doesn’t want to leave Danny’s core alone so she doesn’t really care about it all to much

•Cores kinda work like the kids ghost eyes from Coraline

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Appearances•

Danny-

Jazz-

And here’s what Danny’s new body looks like

~{and that’s it! Sorry if the story part is short I am very tired lol so if any of you gremlins want to take it feel free to anyway until next time byeeeeee}~

[zeroseuniverse]

heyy first of all dont listen to anyone sending hate no one deserves that and specially you🫶

so ive been inactive for a couple of days and i was just catching up with your fics and i was wondering if you would consider doing a part2 for lovesick fool?

i was thinking like rival gang kidnaps reader and cheol goes all crazy looking for her BUT i was thinking (since i get baddie energy from her oops) that maybe he shows up to save her but girlie already saved herself like a girlboss

just a thought haha

i hope you have a great day and remember that you deserve good things 😚🫶

Lovesick Fool III

Word Count: 1.1K Summary:“No,” he mumbled into your shoulder, wrapping himself around you like a human blanket. “You almost got kidnapped today. I deserve this.” Pairing: S.coups X reader

Taglist: @haaruki  @agaha127 @zaycie @sh0dor1 @tinyelfperson @lezleeferguson-120  @ltfirecracker

Navigation

The warehouse reeked of gasoline and sweat, the flickering overhead light casting eerie shadows across the concrete floor. A group of men stood around, some pacing, others leaning against crates, each one glancing nervously toward the chair in the center of the room.

Their hostage sat there, bound and blindfolded, head tilted slightly as if listening.

“You sure this was a good idea?” one of the men muttered.

“Boss said to grab her,” another replied, though his voice wavered. “Said it would bring Choi Seungcheol to his knees.”

At the mention of that name, the air seemed to grow heavier.

Everyone knew Seungcheol was terrifying. Everyone knew messing with him was a death sentence. But no one had ever dared to lay a hand on you.

Until now.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor made them all tense.

And then—

A soft laugh.

Slow. Amused. Dangerous.

“Bring him to his knees?” your voice cut through the silence like a blade. “You really thought this was going to work?”

The blindfold slipped, revealing sharp, unreadable eyes. The ropes that had bound your wrists lay loose at your sides.

The realization hit them all at once.

You weren’t waiting to be saved.

You were playing with them.

Someone moved first—bad decision.

Before he could react, you grabbed the chair leg and swung it, knocking him to the ground. Chaos erupted. One reached for his gun—too slow. You ducked, sending an elbow into his ribs before grabbing his wrist and twisting, forcing him to drop the weapon.

Another lunged, but you sidestepped, using his momentum to slam him face-first into the crate behind you.

By the time the last man standing realized what was happening, you were already in front of him, pressing the stolen gun beneath his chin.

“Go ahead,” you murmured, tilting your head. “Make a move.”

He didn’t.

The only sound in the room was his shaky breathing—and the unmistakable click of a safety being turned off.

Then—

BOOM.

The warehouse door flew open with a resounding crash, the walls practically shaking from the force of it.

A storm in human form stood at the entrance.

Choi Seungcheol.

Gun in hand, eyes blazing, chest heaving as if he’d torn through hell itself to get here.

His men flooded in behind him, weapons drawn, ready for blood.

And then—he saw you.

Standing in the middle of a room filled with groaning, barely-conscious bodies, a gun still poised under one man’s chin.

His eyes flicked over the scene. The broken chair. The scattered weapons. The men who had dared to take you.

And then—back to you.

Untouched. Unbothered.

Unapologetic.

Seungcheol exhaled sharply, his shoulders dropping slightly, though the fury in his eyes remained. “Are you kidding me?”

You smiled. “Took you long enough.”

He dragged a hand down his face, stalking forward with slow, deliberate steps. The remaining conscious man whimpered as Seungcheol’s gaze landed on him.

Without breaking eye contact, you leaned in and whispered, “Run.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Seungcheol watched him go, then turned his full attention to you. “Are you hurt?”

“Do I look hurt?”

His jaw clenched. “That’s not an answer.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer until you were standing chest to chest. “I’m fine, Cheol. They were sloppy.”

Seungcheol inhaled deeply, forcing himself to breathe. To push past the primal urge to hunt down every last one of the bastards who had taken you.

Because you weren’t just fine. You were standing there, smirking at him, like this was all just a mild inconvenience.

And maybe that was the real reason he was losing his mind.

Because no one else could do this to him.

No one else could terrify him and make him fall harder in the same breath.

Finally, his hands found your face, tilting it up as his forehead pressed against yours. His touch was firm but careful—like he was grounding himself in the fact that you were really here.

“I swear to God,” he murmured, voice rough, “if anyone ever lays a hand on you again—”

“They won’t.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. You weren’t reassuring him. You weren’t telling him to let it go.

You were making a promise.

Something dark and possessive flickered in his gaze before he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You’re insane.”

You grinned. “That’s why you love me.”

His grip tightened slightly before he let out a quiet chuckle, lips curving upward. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

Mingyu, who had been standing behind them, muttered, “I don’t know if I’m turned on or scared.”

Jeonghan sighed. “Both, probably.”

Joshua just shook his head. “They deserve each other.”

And Seungcheol?

He just kissed you—hard.

Because damn if they weren’t right.

Back at Seungcheol’s penthouse, you barely had time to take off your shoes before you found yourself tackled onto the couch.

“Cheol—”

“No,” he mumbled into your shoulder, wrapping himself around you like a human blanket. “You almost got kidnapped today. I deserve this.”

You huffed out a laugh, trying (and failing) to push his massive frame off you. “I did get kidnapped.”

“And you saved yourself like a badass.” He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes with a devastatingly soft pout. “But what about me, baby? Do you know how scared I was? I almost set the entire city on fire.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

He ignored that, nuzzling into your neck. “You can’t just be all fearless and independent. Let me save you at least once, damn it.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart flipped at how ridiculously clingy he was being. “Cheol—”

He groaned dramatically, tightening his hold. “No. Don’t ‘Cheol’ me. I’m in distress. You’re my weakness. I need to recharge.”

“You’re being so dramatic.”

“I almost went feral for you. You can’t just walk away from that.”

You sighed, giving in and running your fingers through his hair. That earned you an immediate, satisfied hum as he melted into you completely.

From the hallway, Jeonghan leaned against the wall, sipping his drink. “Told you,” he muttered.

Joshua nodded beside him. “He’s done for.”

Minghao scoffed. “The scariest gang leader in the city… reduced to a lovesick puppy.”

Seungcheol, who had somehow maneuvered himself so his head was now in your lap, cracked open one eye. “Jealous?”

Jeonghan just smirked. “No. Just impressed.”

You chuckled, stroking his cheek. “Guess I do have too much power over you.”

He grinned, tilting his head into your touch. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓘𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮

Pairing: Variant!Mark Grayson x Childish!Reader [GN? I tried but didn't proofread so might lean more towards a fem reader]

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, romcom

Word Count: Total = 2,019 but each part is less than 600

Synopsis: Your beloved stuffed animal bit the dust in a cleaning accident – how will your boyfriend react when he comes home after a brutal mission to you, distraught, on the living room floor?

a/n: based on this ask! probably will do a part 2 with other variants but if i do it'll take awhile lmaoo

You’re already crying when the door opens. Not soft, aesthetic crying either—the real deal. Full-body hiccups. Wet cheeks. One sock on. Mascara down to your chin. You’re sitting cross-legged on the living room floor surrounded by glitter markers, open candy wrappers, and a very dead stuffed animal.

Well. Not dead dead. Just… armless.

You clutch the plush against your chest like it’s a wounded soldier in a war movie, sobbing into its fuzzy head. The vacuum lies tipped over nearby like a murder weapon, cord tangled around your ankle, nozzle still dust-speckled from the carnage.

“WHY DID I EVEN HAVE IT OUT?!” you wail. “I KNEW I wasn’t emotionally stable enough to vacuum unsupervised!”

The front door clicks open behind you.

You don’t look.

Mohawk!Mark

The door slams open hard enough to shake the wall.

You don’t look.

You’re too busy weeping into Mr. Buttons, the once-proud stuffed bunny who now has one arm, a scorched ear, and the emotional weight of a war veteran.

“WHY GOD?!” you sob again, eyes soaking the fur of your beloved stuffy.

“…You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

You perk up a little, sniffling, cheeks blotchy. “Momo…”

His mohawk is disheveled, ends still smoking. There’s a gash torn through the blue panel of his suit, zipper half-ripped, blood drying in jagged trails down his chest. His gloved fingers twitch at his side, knuckles crusted with whatever the hell he just finished tearing through. One leg of his suit is shredded from thigh to ankle, exposing the angry red scrape underneath. He looks like war incarnate.

And he’s staring at a battlefield made of jellybean wrappers and glitter pens.

“I just ripped a guy’s spine out with my teeth, and this is what I come home to?” His eyes flick between the murder scene (the vacuum), your puffy face, and the limp corpse of Mr. Buttons. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

You wobble to your feet like a tragic little Bambi, Mr. Buttons cradled in your arms like a wounded baby bird. You walk over—barefoot, because of course you are—and hold him up with trembling hands.

“He didn’t make it…”

Mark stares. Jaw clenched. Vein ticking in his temple.

“It’s a toy.”

“He had a personality!! He liked strawberry milk and The Princess Diaries and naps in the sun—”

“So you, then.”

“—and now he’s DEAD!”

Mark dragged a hand down his face. His fingers left a bloody streak across his cheek.

“You’re outta your mind.” He pushes past you and drops into a chair with a wince, crimson smearing across the armrest. “I am not dealing with this today.”

But you just follow him. Sniffling. Lip trembling.

“Can you fix him?”

“No.”

“But you’re strong…”

He levels a glare at you so deadly it could stop time.

“You want me to use my battle-scarred, alien-murdering superhands to sew an arm back onto your psycho bunny plush?”

You nod. Very seriously. “With pink thread, please.”

He groans like he’s being physically pained. “I don’t think you understand what I am—”

“You’re my knight in shining armor!! And right now I neeeeed yoooou to save me, PLEASE!”

He turns his face away. Covers his eyes with one bloodied hand again. God, why did you have to be so fucking cute?

His other hand’s already reaching—snatching Mr. Buttons from your arms with a muttered “gimme the damn thing.”

You gasp.

“YOU’RE FIXING HIM?!”

“I’m stapling it,” he growls. “And if you call that ‘surgery’ I’m tearing off all its damn limbs.”

You throw your arms around him before he can escape.

“You’re the best boyfriend everrrr, Momo!!”

“Don’t fucking call me that—”

“Momo Buttons!!”

“Stop.”

“Dr. Momo, PhD in bunny restoration—”

“I will punt this into the sun.”

And yet, an hour later, you’re curled up beside him on the couch with Mr. Buttons (now Frankenstein’d back together with questionable stitching and a battle scar across his belly), and Mark’s hand resting on your thigh, smudged with dried blood and glitter.

He hasn’t said a word in ten minutes.

But when you lean your head on his shoulder, he doesn’t pull away.

“...He missed you too, y’know.”

Mark grunts.

“Yeah, whatever.”

But his fingers brush over the stuffed bunny’s sewn-up arm. Just once.

Soft.

Lensless/No Goggles!Mark

The front door clicks open behind you, and then you hear his voice. Low. Lethal. Absolutely shook.

“...Oh. My. God.”

You twist around, sniffling.

Mark’s standing in the doorway, dripping blood down the entryway tile, holding a smoking chunk of metal in one hand and what might’ve been someone’s femur in the other. His suit is half-destroyed, the insignia across his chest seared clean off. His hair is wild. His smile is worse.

He’s staring at you ike he sensed the drama from space.

“You been crying this whole time, princess?”

You hiccup. “My bunny—he got caught in the vacuum and—and—”

His whole expression drops. “Wait…. What?”

You hold up Mr. Buttons. His little arm swings limply. Your lip quivers.

“He didn’t make it…”

Mark gasped like you told him a close family member had died. “...No.” He drops the bloody metal chunk with a clang. “No. NO. NOT BUNNY.”

“He’s missing a LIMB, Mark!”

“…Who did this?” His eyes fly across the room, landing with bloodlust on the vacuum. “Was it… you?”

Your heart feels heavy, sober. You nod solemnly and don’t say a word. He’s not even looking at you but you know he still feels the confirmation.

“You son of a—”

“THIS ISN’T THE TIME, POOGINS, CAN’T YOU SEE HE’S DYING?!”

Mark whirls around, eyes wild and teeth bared. His stare falls to the small, stuffed, inanimate object in your arms, as if it were his lost offspring. His expression falls, shoulders slumping in pain.

“No no no. No. Not today. I’ve already seen too much. I can’t do this again. Not after what happened to Mr. Wiggles last month.”

You sob harder.

“I didn’t mean to, I—I just wanted to clean up a little and he was under the couch and then I heard the ripping sound and I KNEW—!”

Markcuts in sharply. “STOP. This wasn’t your fault. You can’t blame yourself for these things – we all make mistakes in the heat of battle.”

You’re full-body hiccupping now.

“He liked strawberry milk… and sunshine naps… and The Princess Diaries…”

Mark’s jaw clenches.

“He deserved better.”

He stands. Slowly. Somber. Taking the bunny from you like it’s a casualty of war.

“I’m going to fix him.”

You sniff. “You are?”

He turns back to you, dead serious.

“I didn’t survive a wormhole, three ambushes, and a sentient flame god just to come home and lose Mr. Buttons. Not today.”

“Do you want my sparkly sewing kit—?”

“Get me the hot glue.”

Emergency Surgery Begins

You’ve laid out the supplies on the coffee table: scissors, pink thread, glitter glue, bandaids, and a hot glue gun. Most supplies were just for show—wishful thinking at best.

Mark’s suit was peeled off his chest now and hanging around his waist — as if the heat was just too much to bear. Blood was drying across his chest as he hunched over Mr. Buttons like a field medic on the frontlines.

“Scissors,” he commands. You pass them to him with trembling fingers. He was steady as a heartbeat. All business.

“Glue gun.” Tears welled in your eyes, pinching your lids shut as you shoved the tool in his direction.

He cuts. Glues. Mutters darkly to himself the whole time.

“God, this plush was a fighter. Seam integrity’s strong. Stuffing’s still soft. He wasn’t ready to go...”

You sit nearby, hands clasped like you’re waiting for a loved one to come through open-heart surgery.

“Is he gonna make it?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just dabs in the last bit of glue before glancing at you…

And nods.

“He’s stable.”

You burst into tears again. He pats your head—awkwardly, like he’s not used to emotional displays—but it’s gentle. Almost proud.

Then he sets Mr. Buttons upright between you both, his newly reattached arm flopping slightly.

“Rest now, soldier,” Mark whispers. “You’re safe.”

Viltrum!Mark

You’re already crying when the door opens.

Not full sobs—no. You’re trying to hold it in. Trying to be good. A few shaky breaths. Some tears slipping down despite your best effort. You sit very still on the floor, cross-legged and quiet, with your arms wrapped around Mr. Buttons like he’s the only thing anchoring you to Earth.

Or he was. Until the vacuum got him.

The vacuum lies discarded nearby. The bunny’s arm dangles by a thread.

You don’t sob. You don’t scream. You just stare at the wall and breathe—like that’ll keep the tears from breaking loose.

And then he appears.

There’s no sound when he lands. No footsteps. Just the faint shift of air pressure and the distant crackle of gravel. You don’t look up.

“You’re hurt.”

His voice is soft. Too soft for someone who once crushed a man’s ribs just for glancing at you in public.

You shake your head, still hugging the plush. “No, I’m okay. I just—” Your voice cracks. You clear your throat. “I was vacuuming. I didn’t know he was under the couch.”

Mark stares. Then his gaze falls to Mr. Buttons.

The limb.

The stitches.

The glitter sticker bandaid desperately trying to hold it all together.

You can feel the weight of his silence. It’s not judgmental. It’s... confused.

“You’re crying over a toy.”

You almost laugh. It comes out more like a hiccup. “I know it’s stupid.”

Mark kneels. Slowly. Carefully. Like he’s approaching a wounded animal.

“I didn’t say that.”

You glance at him then. Eyes red. Lip trembling.

He gently takes Mr. Buttons from your arms. Turns the plush in his hand with intentional delicacy. Something so foreign to hands that were built for war. His jaw flexes.

Then he vanishes.

Just—gone.

You blink. Sniffle. “...Mark?”

Sixty seconds later, he’s back. Holding three bunnies. Three of them are brand-new, tags still on.

“The original has been expedited to the top textile conservator on Earth. She’s expecting him by nightfall.”

You blink at him. “You—you sent him away?”

“To be restored properly.” He pauses. “In the meantime, I brought options.”

You look at the new plushies in his arms. They’re nearly identical. But none of them feel right. They haven’t been there with you since a child – they seem like strangers wearing the mask of your best friend.

“I don’t want a replacement.”

“You don’t need one,” he says, voice even. “You need him whole.”

You nod, and then he sets the others aside. Gathers you into his lap.

You don’t ask. He just pulls you in. Wraps himself around you like armor. Like a shield. One hand cups the back of your head. The other pulls a soft blanket over your legs.

“Don’t hide pain from me,” he murmurs into your hair. “Just because I don’t understand it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter. If it matters to you, than it matters at all.”

You clutch his shirt.

“I didn’t want to bother you…”

“You’re never a bother.”

“Even when I’m crying over a stuffed animal?”

“Especially then.”

He tilts your face up and kisses your forehead. So soft. So reverent it makes your eyes sting again.

“Things like... Mister… Bunny… don’t exist on Viltrum. But I saw your face,” he whispers. “And I understand that for you it’s something that’s important. That’s all I need to see to know it matters then to me too.”

[shotmrmiller]

whenever simon needs a lay, he doesn't go for girls like you: all snarky attitude and self-assuredness in that hole-in-the-wall bar with the peeling wallpaper, dim lighting, and sagging ceiling tiles. he wants those insecure things; the soft, quiet ones who've been recently dumped and are drinking away their woes. the ones who'll take him to theirs in a drunken haze and wake up startled, kicking him out of the front door without their number and an embarrassed forget this ever happened.

can do, sweetheart. (see ya never.)

but you've caught his interest. maybe it was the way your face was bare— pockmarks on your cheeks and eyebrows untamed—yet you exuded confidence not even that loud bimbo with the fake lashes and vibrant ruby lipstick could ever recreate. maybe it was the way you held your own against that drunken man who attempted to grab a handful of arse over your faded, torn jeans, catching his pathetic bollocks and giving them a gnarly twist.

who knows. who cares.

what matters is that you've caught him by complete surprise.

he figured you were the type to want a firm hand. a couple of harsh slaps to your cheeks (both top and bottom), a fistful of your hair in his grip to pull, and to fuck you into the mattress until your body was imprinted on it.

wrong.

the moment he pulled your hair taut, you'd immediately tangled your clever fingers into his chest hair. "i'm no horse, brit. my hair isn't reins for you to lead me around with."

then he tried to bend you over his knee. proper brat like you needs to be put in'er place.

also wrong. "not that either. not yet anyway."

and then he's wrong a third time because you're no passive participant.

he sloppily eats your cunt like it's his first meal since coming back from urzikstan— warm tongue, thick fingers, and the occasional pinch of his crooked teeth on your swollen bundle of nerves. when he tries to pull away, your entrance more than slick enough to take him without much discomfort, you fervently dig your heels into the scarred tissue of his strong back., stopping him in his tracks.

"you stop 'til i finish and not a moment sooner." his whiskey breath is warm between your legs when he huffs out, "affirm." you're fluttering around his hand in minutes when you start to direct him on how you like it, which he supposes is fortunate for you since he's real good at taking orders and even better at obeying them.

your climax is sweet in his mouth with a subtle hint of brine. the exact opposite of you, he finds. simon doesn't even get the chance to tell you to say anything because you're flipping onto your knees and shoving his rigid length into your mouth. he can't help the strangled sound that escapes him when the tip of him touches the back of your throat, constricting when you gag.

bloody hell.

you look up at him; wide, glassy eyes and sunken cheeks and it's pathetic how he can already feel himself on the precipice of ecstasy and he hasn't even gotten to the good part.

when he watches you place a condom in your mouth and roll it on his cock without hands, simon had to squeeze his eyes shut and think of england to stop the fire that threatened to light him ablaze.

alrigh', enough. on your back.

"no. get on yours."

your small hands push against his barrel chest, gesturing he lie back— today preferably.

impatient bint.

you ignore that quip, opting to wrap your fingers around his thick base and sink onto him in one smooth motion.

slow, don't want ya hurtin' ya'self.

he gnaws on his tongue painfully— almost cutting it open with his canine— to keep from finishing because, bloody fuckin' hell, do you feel like the heaven he'll never see.

simon's hands curl and tighten around the swell of your hips— his blunt, square nails digging into your sensitive skin. "easy," you hiss, "i bruise like a peach."

taste like it, too.

you look so sweet, so pliant while being split open on his cock, hot cunt sodden with your earlier release— it sends mind-numbing arousal tingling up his spine, feeling it at the base of his skull. simon grunts when you begin to move, a languid up and down, gentle but firm. spots dance in his vision when you take all of him, his bollocks flush against your arse.

pretty thing with fire in your eyes taking him so well even though others have needed breaks to work up to it. muscle memory takes over then, his callused fingers automatically searching for your swollen clit, but you slap them away. "too sensitive, i'd only be uncomfortable."

yes ma'am.

you chuckle at that, pussy fluttering as you do and simon hisses through his clenched teeth.

keep tha' up 'nd i'll be done before the fun even starts.

this time you clamp down on purpose, your cunt squeezing his cock like a silken fist. "wouldn't that just be a shame. old man like yourself only got one in you?" the playful taunt sinks its teeth into the ego he's never cared about— leaving behind a mark that stings and lingers— and the lieutenant rears his head, if only for a moment.

watch it.

your eyes widen fractionally but your lips curl at the corners in amusement. "sorry, sir." minx.

his thoughts dissolve like sugar in hot tea once your hips began to rise and fall again, this time a much quicker pace. he surrenders to your unsatiable passion-- a hungry beast, feeding on want, on need-- with only his obsidian-black mask as witness.

for the first time in months (since price bent him over his desk post-op that one time) he's the one getting fucked.

and when you plant your feet by his sides, when your hips cant at the slightest of angles, his flared head presses against something firm and his world ceases to exist, the intensity of now reaching its peak.

when he comes to, your sweat-slick body trembles with effort, your pretty cunt still stuffed to the brim with his softening length. but he's not done with you yet, not by a long shot. now it's his turn.

in a quick movement, you find yourself on your back, looking up at simon, and the mewl that falls from your lips bounces off of the spartan white walls when he hooks your legs over his broad shoulders, and claims you again.

he plans on leaving a delicious ache between your legs that won't let you forget this night-- at least not for the next few days. (not like you could, i mean look at him. plus, he's going to magically forget his gloves here, maybe his pack of cigarettes. he's also definitely jotting down his phone number somewhere.)

forgive me i'm tired now so i lost some air at the end hehehe

[outtathisworld-imagines]

Pass the Bill

——⚡️——⚡️——⚡️——⚡️——⚡️——

Pairing: James Buchanan Barnes x F!Reader

Warning: MDNI! 18+ content, pure porn with minor plot really lol, filled with smut, kissing, Oral (both!rec), multiple orgasms, aftercare, some fluff, some angst, dirty talk swearing, just general filth unprotected sex- pls wrap before you tap. Not proofread 🥲

A.N: This is just pure filth because I too needed a congressman Barnes fix 😅

Please let me know what else you guys would like! I do have a few other fics on the back-burner (for now!) that l'll start to post soon and just let me know if you'd liked to be tagged in further works too

——⚡️——⚡️——⚡️ ——⚡️——⚡️——⚡️——

Bucky hastily made his way to the hearing, running a fraction too late- as usual.

He wasn’t the only late one he noticed the pair of heels quickly, but composed, making thier way to the hearing too. His eyes trailed up, seeing bare legs for what felt like forever until his eyes hit the hem of a skirt that was tightly compressed around the most perfect behi-

“Behind!” Someone lightly held his arm, squeezing around him and running off somewhere in the building- seemingly being much later than he was. He cleared his throat to clear his mind, by that point he had caught up to the mesmerising figure in front. To make up for his wandering mind, he jogged ahead to be more of a gentleman than his eyes were and opened the door.

“Congresswoman Y/L/N.” He sent you a thin smile, a wave of conflicting emotions within him upon seeing that it was you.

“Why thank you, congressman Barnes,” you sweetly smiled and walked into the hearing with him hot on your heels.

You saw Valentina who sent you a smile and a wink- something that didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky. You sat down on the bench and he instantly sat down next to you, causing your eyebrow to raise in surprise. “You’re playing a dangerous game if you’re trusting her.” He whispered.

You smirked “I don’t trust anyone in this room.” You looked at him up and down, a flash of what looked like hurt in his face at your words. “Well…not everyone.” You sat and listened to the hearing intently. Bucky could barely hear a thing when he noticed your leg pressed against his.

His feelings were volatile when it came to you. He didn’t quite know how to feel and that annoyed him. He heard rumours and whispers that made his stomach knot. He couldn’t take his eyes off you but he was torn with anger when you pulled certain wild stunts and of course your support for Valentina.

When the initial hearing was over, the threat of impeachment in the horizon for her, Bucky caught you both in a frantic conversation before he left.

“It’s handled, there’s no need to worry.” You assured her with a smile.

“Thank you, and thank you for your support.” Valentina reached out her hand and squeezed your arm “I hope to see you at the gala?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You told her. “And of course, my…convincing…remains at your disposal. I’m happy to give you a hand.”

“I knew I could rely on you. Some people are very much dragging their heels, especially congressman Roy. I think if you wear a nice enough dress that would convince him- and probably many more too!” She laughed and walked away leaving you to contemplate what you’d wear.

——⚡️——⚡️——

Bucky wandered the halls, confronted with relics from his past. He observed that many people were schmoozing rather than actually taking in any of the pieces.

He saw Valentina working her way through the sea of guests- if she was there, you would surely be too. He just had to work his way through the crowd to keep his eyes on you. He spotted you at the bar and made his way up to you.

You felt a presence next to you. “Vodka tonic.” You asked the bartender before looking up and seeing Bucky standing there. “Hold the tonic.”

“What the hell are you doing wearing a dress like that, in a place like this?” He asked, holding back a choke in his throat.

You smirked “Getting exactly that reaction.”

“I know all about your reputation.” He said quietly between the mixing of other voices, trying not to be distracted by your scandalous, plunging neckline.

“Good to know my reputation is being discussed, Congressman Barnes…” You downed your drink. “You don’t actually believe those rumours…do you? I thought better of you if you did.” He watched as you toyed with the lip of the glass with the tip of your finger with a pouting lip.

Bucky sighed “Look I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You haven’t.” You turned to him “In fact, why didn’t I put my reputation to good use right now?” You tightly smiled and walked away. He watched as the floaty material of your dress cascaded across the floor and over your exposed leg, an eye-watering, knee-quivering slit up one side that stopped at your hip, making it visible it to the word. “Congressman Roy, so good to see you here!” You smiled sweetly at him.

The young congressman loved whenever anyone inflated his ego, you used this to your advantage. However, he was far too spritely for your liking- mainly because he had a bill passed the first week he became a member of congress and had been riding that high ever since. “Well, yanno, free bar…and I knew you’d be here.” And he loved flirting and receiving flirting in return.

“I was worried I wouldn’t have seen you here in that gorgeous tux,” you feigned fixing his bow tie. He was lapping up every second of this Bucky could tell, standing in a corner of the room watching how you lured him in. “Especially since I know you’re very on the fence about Valentina…” you emphasised a sigh “I’m so worried about her…she can’t get impeached.”

You brushed your finger tactically across his collar, pretending to fix that too. “You care about her huh?” He asked and you nodded, gazing at him between your eyelashes. “You’d vote against it?” You nodded again, this time walking him backwards until he hit the wall.

“I’d do anything…” you moved your hips forward and Bucky’s hands balled together. He watched as you whispered something in his ear and he swallowed hard before you pulled back. He tried to discretely pull out his wallet and handed you money folded over, which you tucked into your chest. You tried to walk anyway but he pulled you back.

“Enough.” Bucky muttered under his breath while dragging you swiftly away from the sleazy congressman. You tried to find your feet but Bucky’s strength practically lifted you off the floor. He pulled you into a secluded spot. “Don’t worry, it’s a blind spot.” He assured.

“I wasn’t worrying.” You said wriggling in the cramped space. “I do however need to make myself more,” you spread your legs a little, essentially straddling him in the crevice “Comfortable.” You smirked when he swallowed hard.

“You can’t corrupt me.” He tried to sound sure, but his hint of shakiness didn’t convince you.

You let out a dry, humourless laugh, your face getting closer to his “I’m not corrupted. I do what I must to survive this world.” You bit out and tried to pull back, however he kept you close. “All this pent up tension isn’t healthy for you…” you teased. “So what one is it then? What bill do you want? What bill do you want passed? It’s obviously that, especially since you yanked me away from Roy just there. That’s what’s been annoying you.” It was slightly more than that annoying him- there was pent up tension but not necessarily over a Bill. “You know I’ll need something in return. I open a door for you…” you waved your hands suggestively.

“I opened a door for you the other day?” He innocently retorted.

You laughed “A metaphorical door- I need more leverage than that.” You pulled out a card from your chest- Bucky had absolutely no clue where you could have pulled it from- and placed it between his lips. “Call or visit me here. Maybe then we can work something out.”

You were about to leave when he raised his arm out to stop you, making you jolt in surprise. Bucky slowly removed the card from his mouth and forced a smile while shaking his head in disbelief. “So that is how you do it.”

“Do what?” You blinked.

“Get the Bills passed.” You raised a perplexed brow. “Because I bet it’s true what I heard, after what I just seen. That the only way you can get a Bill passed is from someone stuffing ones with a hundred printed on them in your panties…or rather you stuffing it into your chest when you’re at a gala. Real classy.”

You swallowed hard, Bucky saw a visible shift in your demeanour, you stiffened, your lips curled into a snarl and your eyebrows creased. “If you want to hear that and even think for a second that’s true, then that’s on you.” You jabbed his chest with your finger, your face inches from his that he could feel your breath dance across his lips. “Not me.” You bit out and stormed off.

Bucky knew he had crossed a line.

He also knew he crossed another line when the only thing he wanted to do just there was move his lips towards yours.

——⚡️——⚡️——

It had been a week since the gala- and the incident.

Bucky had been keeping an eye out for you around the congress building but to no avail so he had no choice but to take the oddly hand written business card you gave him from his wallet and travel to the address.

When he reached a glamorous building he felt slightly underdressed in his black t-shirt and jeans. He walked in and found a doorman at a desk. “Good evening Sir, how may I be of assistance.”

Bucky felt instantly out of his depth “I’m here to see Congresswoman Y/L/N,” he showed the doorman your card. “I just needed to speak with her. It’s Congressman Barnes, James Barnes. ”

He nodded and picked up the phone and pushed in a sequence of numbers. “Ma’am I have Congressman Barnes here.” He looked him up and down and then behind him. “Yes, he is alone.” A beat passed “Of course, Ma’am.” He placed the phone back on the receiver. “I’ll escort you up in five minutes Congressman Barnes.” Bucky nodded, taking a brief seat on the plush sofa in the lobby. When it was time, the doorman called him over and took him to an elevator. He fumbled with a key, placing it into the elevator and then pressing the penthouse button.

As they ascended, Bucky cleared his throat and rolled back and forth on his feet. “I take it this isn’t new for you,” he let out a stale laugh.

“Whatever do you mean, Sir?” He asked, genuinely perplexed.

“Well,” Bucky threw about his hands “Late night, another man on the way to her apartment-“

“Penthouse suite.” He corrected “And for the record it is new and highly unusual. The only visitor Congresswoman Y/L/N receives here is the occasional visit from Ms De Fontaine. No one else- and certainly no gentleman callers, if that is what you’re implying, Sir.” He told him and Bucky blinked in surprise. The doors opened and he knocked “Congressman Barnes, Ma’am.”

“The door is open! Thank you Leo.” You called from the other side of the door and he opened it for Bucky, ushering him through before locking it again. Bucky had never been in anywhere quite as luxurious before your home. It was like a five star hotel. “Well, this is a surprise.” Bucky found your figure dimly lit and spread across a plush sofa in the same dress you had on last week.

“Well needs must, I feel like you’ve avoided me all week.” He admitted, still standing by the doorframe.

You smirked at his timidness “I’ve been a busy woman…however you’d know all about that, huh? Or apparently so…” you casually rested your head on your arm, Bucky caught flashes of your flesh peaking from under the dress. “What do you hear about me?”

He cleared his throat “Just your…lewd antics.” He admitted.

A laugh from your lips caused goosebumps over his arm “Ah, just those. Thank heavens.” You emphasised a sigh in relief before sending him a sharp glare. “You of all people would know not to judge a book by its cover.” Bucky looked to his feet, a wave of guilt and regret washing over him- he knew you were right and he knew better than to listen to gossip.

“What was I supposed to think when I noticed Roy slipping you that money? After everything I heard!” He walked forward and you sat up slightly.

“Money holds more than its value.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bucky’s face contorted with confusion.

“The money I get holds secrets.” You slipped a hand under the slit of your dress, right where your hip was and pulled out the same note Congressman Roy handed to you last week. ‘So this is why she wanted five minutes,’ he internally thought. You unraveled the bill and a slip of paper fell out, you held it up for him to read. Bucky stepped closer and pulled it from your fingertips.

‘They have dirt on Val.’ It read.

“So despite what you might think about me, what you think I must do. It’s in order to survive, to fight for my seat at the table of congress!” You yelped out, standing up on your knees and confronting him. You watched as his eyes roamed across your chest. “I just knew you loved this dress…” you threaded your fingers through the material while looking at Bucky who was hovering above you. “Because you couldn’t keep your eyes off me all night, so I thought I’d wear it again for your little surprise visit.”

Bucky swallowed hard “That’s…thoughtful…of you.”

“Besides, I know not having a Bill passed isn’t the only reason you have pent up frustration.” You saw his eyes darken “So, are you gonna put us both out of our misery and take it off me already?” Bucky pounced on you, causing you to squeak against his lips at the contact.

You gasped feeling two of his fingers suddenly plunge into your hot, wet pussy. “God I was hoping you didn’t have any underwear on. So wet already, Y/LN, it’s like you wanted this.”

You moaned as he thrusted them in and out, quickening his pace “I told you, Barnes, in order for me to open a door for you, you needed to open me.” You kissed his lips as he continued.

Bucky smirked “You’re missing another door in there.”

“Am I…?” You winked and his lips found your neck as his fingers curled inside of you “Fuck!” You groaned, the dress becoming more suffocating the longer he hand his fingers inside of you. He felt you becoming tense under him and quickly pulled his fingers out, a whine leaving your throat. He sat back and watched you catch your breath as he licked you off of his fingers.

“Stand up and take it off.”

You summoned enough strength to raise your head “What?”

Bucky swallowed hard “Stand up and take it off.” He bit out each word. “Don’t make me ask you twice.” His dark tone sent a rush through your entire body and you eagerly stood up, the sound of your zipper flooding your apartment. He watched as the material fell to your feet and you stepped out of it, standing in front of him with nothing on and suddenly feeling like he was the one commanding the power in the room for a change and not you. “I want to do everything to you and that perfect body of yours.”

“I can be very convincing to others when I get everything.” You said and he tapped his thigh, summoning you over. You sat down on his lap and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. “You’re very overdressed, Congressman Barnes.” You kissed his cheek and moved your mouth to his neck “Let me help you with that.” Your hands found the hem of his t-shirt and you pulled it off of him. Your hands roamed over his toned figure, his chest tingling at the feeling of your bare one against his own before you reached for his belt. “Maybe I can find something here that will really make me want to help you pass your bill.” You smirked.

“Maybe you’ll find something there that will make you silent for once.” He told you, causing you to playfully and widely smile at his sudden moxie.

“You’re a lot less mild than I would have thought, Barnes.” You licked your tongue across his open lips.

“Fuck, as much as I love this little congressman, congresswoman little game you’re playing with me, call me Bucky.”

You nodded “Okay then, Bucky. You can call me Y/N then if you’d rather not play.” You teased.

His strength was quickly put to use and he swiftly pressed your back against your sofa again “Who said I didn’t want to play with you?” A wicked smirk flashed across your lips as he moved his hand to your neck and his vibranium one to your pussy. You gasped feeling the cold against your throbbing hot mess as he maliciously teased you with one finger and wrapping his other hand around your neck. “Who said I didn’t want to use that little mouth of yours as a fuck toy and then a cum dump for my cock, huh?” His hand got tighter and his finger went deeper inside you again. “And who said I didn’t want to use this little pussy in the same way?” A wild laugh left your throat as he pushed you towards a climax already, edging you towards coming before ripping his hands from your body and making you beg for it. Beg for him. “Is this what you want?” You nodded frantically “I’ll open you and your holes so much that you’ll be passing every single one of my Bills.”

Bucky sat up, leaving you as a panted mess on the sofa and removed his jeans and boxers. “Oh god,” you breathily gasped at the sight of him, at all of him. “I’m sure that’s big enough to open lots of doors for you…”

Bucky smirked, bashfully. “You’re the only person whose doors I’m interested in opening.”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual.” You sent him a soft smile, and for a moment Bucky saw the true you. From the looks on your faces and in your eyes, you both knew there would be another day for that. For the soft, and the gentle, and the delicate.

But for now, you both knew you just needed to fuck.

“Open that fucking mouth.” He commanded and you did just that, continuing to lay down but hang your head over the edge of the sofa, the back of your head resting against the lip. He slid his entirety into your mouth and moved his hips back and forth “Fuck. FUCK! So warm and wet for me Y/N.” He gripped the side of your head and fistfuls of your hair, using your head to move up and down on his rock hard cock too, his other hand squeezed your breasts and yours with your nipples. “If this is the way your mouth feels around my cock, I can’t even imagine what that beautiful pussy is going to feel like.” He gritted out “I’m going to wreck you tonight baby, you’re gonna have my cum dripping out of you for weeks.” He hissed feeling you hum, a vibration running through his cock to his entire body. “Yes baby, tell me what you’re gonna do for me,” he pulled out to let you say aloud.

“I’m gonna pass your Bill.” You choked out and then choked on his length again.

“Keep saying it, fucking keep saying it.” You did in a strained voice, causing more and more ripples of vibration on his cock. You could feel it twitching on the back of your throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck say it Y/N. Tell my cock what you’re gonna do. Say you’re gonna pass my bill- SCREAM IT!” You did and Bucky moaned loudly as he came down your throat over the words you chanted. He remained hunched over you, still in your mouth before slowly removing himself with a grunt. “Fucking hell,” he looked down at you, hair a mess, mascara streaming from the tears in your eyes caused from gagging and his cum on the corners of your mouth. He traced a thumb over it, pushing every last drop into your mouth. “Where’s your bedroom?” He practically commanded.

“Upstairs,” you softly spoke, pointing to the corner of the room before wiping your eyes.

With an arm, he lifted you up bridal style and kissed you as he lead you both up the stairs before throwing you on the bed, causing you to giggle which made him smile. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he stood at the edge of your bed, his hand wrapped around his cock, slowly stroking himself. “The only person in this goddamn city, this goddamn world even, who’s ruined me as much as you have. This is what I’d do every night after seeing you. Touch myself into absolute oblivion, especially after seeing you wearing that tight skirt that emphasises your ass so fucking perfectly.” You watched Bucky intently as he got himself off, the way the city lights behind his head made him glow. “I’d even get myself off in the bathroom of my office if you were wearing that semi-sheer red blouse because I just couldn’t wait. I couldn’t wait to think about you on me, I came and I came and I came until I couldn’t stand.” That confession made your jaw drop, and you made a mental note of what he liked. “But enough of me talking.” He stoped touching himself and grabbed you by the ankles, pulling you towards him across the silky sheets. “You should be screaming my name.”

He placed a hand behind your back and pulled you up to him, your lips locking with his and both your tongues battling for dominance. You broke away and kissed down his neck, finding his sweet spot again on the nape of his neck and gently sucked on it. “Y/N,” he moaned “Fuck, don’t leave a mark.”

“Can’t make any promises, Bucky,” you emphasised his name and he felt you smirk against his skin.

“Besides,” he gently pushed you back onto the bed before you had the chance to leave any traces “It’s your sweet spot I should be sucking on.” He pulled your pussy towards his mouth. “I wasn’t going to do this, teach you a lesson for taunting me last week at the gala, but fuck me, you taste to good not to.” His mouth completely covered every inch of your pussy as he frantically ate you out. His tongue swirling between your folds, he moaned as you washed over his tastebuds, sweeter than honey.

Your back arched off the bed as your fingers gripped onto his hair for support. “Oh god, oh Bucky!” Your voice reached the edges of your bedroom as you reached your edge. “Fu-FUCK! Yes, oh god yes! Show me how much you want it passed! Show me how much you want me!” He enthusiastically reacted to your moans, his face soaking so much he was convinced that you were already dripping off his beard and the he would be tasting you on his lips for a week. “I’m gonna cum! I’m fucking going to cum!” You breathlessly panted.

And then he pulled his face away from your soaking, wet heat causing you to almost burst into tears from frustration rather than pleasure. “Not yet. Besides, I told you, teaching you a lesson.” He winked and lay on the bed. You pouted and feigned that you were upset by crossing your arms “Aww,” he cooed and kissed your forehead “Jump on then.” You quickly raised a brow, Bucky remained lying down and tapped his mouth “Jump on before I change my mind.” With an eager gasp you straddled his head and sunk your pussy back onto his mouth. Bucky caressed your thighs that were pressed against the sides of his face and let you pull his hair and happily ride his face. His tongue skilfully circling around your tight hole and hearing you scream in sheer bliss. Now he was hoping to taste you for at least two weeks. But again, edging you to your oblivion he tossed you off and you let out a cry as pleasure subsided away. You looked at him, yelling ‘Why’ without even moving your lips. “I want you to cum on my cock. That’s how our first time is gonna go.” He explained and you nodded as he hovered over your body and perfect aligned himself and sunk his entire cock into the depths of your pussy.

You both let out a moan that ripped through your throats at the sensation, so intense at first that never of you could move. Bucky looked down at you and kissed you gently on the lips before forever bucking his hips and thrusting his cock in and out of you. You help into each other for dear life as you both jolted your hips against each other, doing anything to get him deeper inside you. He slowly unwrapped himself away from you, sitting up on his knees, taking your ankles and spreading your legs even wider. “God Bucky, you’re so big! I won’t l-l-last!”

“Nether will I baby, I’ll let you cum. Just cum for me, gotta see your beautiful face when you cum.” He breathlessly spoke. He watched your body rise from the bed “That’s it, cum on my cock. Cum for me Y/N!” Your entire body shook with pleasure as you hit your high. Bucky continued, thrusting in and out and taking your orgasm beyond the point of control. He kept your legs in place as the pleasure in your body caused your other limbs to frantically jolt out of control.

“Shit, fuck, so fucking hot. You’re gonna look so fucking good when I fill you up! F-f-FUCK!” Bucky roared and came inside you, spilling out already with just how much he came. He looked down and saw you lying in a limp bubble of bliss and a grin on your face.

“Consider it passed, Congressman Barnes,” you tiredly breathed out. Bucky softly chuckled and with a wince from the pair of you, he pulled out and fell beside you on the bed. His arms reached out for you, pulling you close and cradling you gently.

“You okay?” He asked with his eyes shut, the smell of your sweat and perfume soaked skin filling his nostrils now he was taking a moment to embrace that.

You mustered a nod. “F-first time.” You said. “I’ve never slept with any of congress or whoever else you’ve heard.”

Bucky sighed and held you a little tighter. “I know, I trust you. I’m sorry I believed them.”

You yawned. “I’m sorry they fed you lies.” Bucky gently peppered kisses over your head and cheeks before placing one on your lips and holding you close before you drifted off.

Your eyes snapped awake hours later, finding Bucky no where to be seen. You couldn’t help your heart feeling a pang of hurt. You slipped under the covers and brought them to your bare chest, looking at the twinkling lights of the city. Your head snapped to the door hearing footsteps and saw Bucky in his boxers, holding a glass of water and his T-shirt. A smile appeared on your face “Hi.” You quietly greeted.

“Hi,” he smiled and sat by your side “Thought you could use this.” He placed the water by your bedside. “And I was going to put this on you, just so you didn’t get a chill. Didn’t want to rummage through your drawers looking for your pyjamas.”

“That’s okay,” you took the t-shirt from him and he gently helped put it on. “I’m sure a lovely congressman could also keep me from getting a chill.” Bucky smirked as you tossed back the covers, silently inviting him in. He settled in and you curled up into his chest, drifting off to sleep again.

——⚡️——⚡️——

Bucky watched you work your magic early the next morning, wrapped up in your coat and not missing a beat despite the fact you had just arrived- and could barely walk from the night before. You were chatting to the most influential- and oldest- congressman. Asking about his grandkids and wife that you memorised the names of and laughing so sweetly when he cracked an unfunny joke- the stuff that they lapped up and loved. And the stuff that got Bills passed. Then you turned serious, your eyes became big and your eyelashes batted against each other. That’s when the real magic happened.

Later that afternoon Bucky was sitting in the hall with his peers. His Bill was actually getting considered and he was happy you kept your word, not that he had doubted for a moment after your night together that you wouldn’t have.

The doors opened and you walked in. Bucky swallowing hard at what you were wearing- along with most of the men in the room.

That red semi-sheer top.

You sat towards the back of the room, locking eyes with Bucky and shooting him a discreet smile before your eyes moved to everyone on the panel, one of the congressman with Bucky’s Bill in hand as the hearing was called to pass or dismiss the sheets of paper in his grip.

——⚡️——⚡️——⚡️

You made your way to your office with a proud smile after Bucky’s Bill was passed.

A single dollar bill neatly folded on top of your desk. You carefully opened it.

‘Val doesn’t want you to know about this warehouse.’

With coordinates underneath.

Signed simply with-

‘B’

[castielthinkr]

UNCONDITIONAL [uhn-kuhn-dish-uh-nl] adjective. not limited by conditions; absolute

sam x fem!reader ft. dean cw suggestive (mdni), little bit of angst, set sometime in the early seasons bc i love baby sam, reader is shorter than sam, switch sam my beloved wc 1014

summary sam can’t get enough of you notes whiny sam ib this scene from house of wax

when dean had left the two of you alone in a motel room for the night, he hadn’t imagined he’d wake up to sam alone and miserable.

and yet, there he was.

“where’s-”

“she’s gone, dean,” his brother had huffed, “long gone.”

he hadn’t prodded any further. you were one of sam’s many soft spots. a hunter yourself, you knew the risks of getting close to people. sam had thought that with both of you being hunters it would offer some reprieve, would allow you to open up to him and begin something, anything. he was almost desperate for you, but you left anyway, claiming it was too dangerous.

of course, he knew that most hunters isolated themselves. bobby and gordon sprang to mind immediately.

still, he had hope.

you saw each other again some months later. this time, you’d helped the boys on a case, sticking around long enough for sam to get to know you somewhat better. it frustrated him to no end that he couldn’t get further than the walls you’d built up, but he understood.

you hadn’t spent the night together the way you had three times before then, instead parting ways at sundown with a kiss that could have rivalled romeo and juliet. sam was addicted to your lips, your eyes, your body. you weren’t faring any better; sam’s body on yours and the noises he made played on your mind constantly.

and then: radio silence. once again.

even dean was beginning to worry about you. you normally checked in with them, especially after a tough case, but they’d heard nothing for weeks upon weeks.

that was, until you showed up at their motel door.

dean had ushered you in out of the rain immediately after taking the necessary precautions (read: splashing you with holy water). you were tired, a little bloodied, and soaked to the bone, but otherwise okay. he sat you on a bed and brought you a towel, allowing you a moment of peace before he threw questions at you.

“you’ve had sammy worry sick, y’know,” he said, giving you yet another once over.

“i know, i’m sorry. i’ve been on a long hunt. no cell service for weeks,” you said, wringing out your hair.

“and?”

“a werewolf clan. six of them. had to pick them off one by one and the last one chased me here. i killed it on the border of town and by then i had nothing. no supplies other than the clothes on my back and weapons in my hand and god knows what in my pockets,” you explained.

dean whistled. “so how’d you find us?”

“i called-” you started, as the door swung open. you tensed, immediately relaxing the second you saw a mop of brown hair atop a lanky frame.

“sammy,” you whispered.

sam’s head snapped to you, which dean took as his cue to leave.

“hey,” you said lamely, standing.

“where have you been?” sam said immediately. you could tell he was torn between being mad at you for disappearing and worried at your complete absence from the world.

“a hunt. it’s a long story. i had no cell service for two weeks,” you said, stood stock still. you didn’t want to startle the man in front of you, instead letting him come to you.

“i’ve missed you,” he all but whispered, closing the distance between you and putting his hands on your waist.

“i’m sorry,” you replied. he leaned down to kiss you, one hand coming up to cradle your neck.

your lips met, beginning slow but soon moving towards something more like hungry. you’d been starved of each other for too long, and sam didn’t intend to let you go this time. he chased your lips as you backed away for air, moving once again to the bed.

“that one’s dean’s,” sam said against your lips, directing you to his own bed. you giggled, making your way over and allowing sam to sit on his bed. you stood inbetween his legs, craning your neck down a little to kiss him more.

he slipped his tongue in your mouth, pulling you impossibly closer to him. you ran your hands across his broad shoulders, down his toned chest, as his own danced up and down your back, occasionally reaching your ass. he moved back towards the headboard, pulling you onto his lap. you straddled his thighs with your own, practically crawling to him. you looked down at him through half-lidded eyes as he looked at you, nothing but adoration on his face. you leaned in once more, connecting again.

sam’s hands travelled further, spreading across your waist and against your stomach, settling eventually underneath your thighs. yours migrated down, feeling his abs and oh so carefully brushing his obvious erection. at that, sam let out a whine, which he tried to stop almost immediately. you smirked at him.

“haven't heard that one before,” you said, teasing him.

he rolled his eyes playfully. “yeah, well, i was on top last time.”

“maybe we should do this more often then.”

sam’s response was to pull you in again, to which you let out a gasp, making him smile into the kiss. he ran his hand through your hair and you moaned, at which point dean chose to enter the room again.

“c’mon guys, i don’t wanna see that shit,” he complained dramatically, covering his eyes.

you sighed and rolled off sam’s lap. he pulled a pillow onto it in your place to hide the bulge in his jeans.

“don’t just barge in like that then,” sam retorted, obviously annoyed at his brother.

“‘s not my fault you two chose to get it on in our shared motel room!”

you rolled your eyes at their bickering, leaning down to get the towel you’d forgotten the minute you saw sam and using it to dry your hair. looking over at sam, you knew it would be hard to leave him again. you couldn’t stay forever - all three of you knew that - but maybe this time you could stay for longer.

[lightsoutletsgo]

flowers are a language of their own — mv.1

pairing: max verstappen x reader word count: 4.2k warnings:  slight angst

four times max gives you flowers and the first time you reciprocate, a childhood friends to lovers oneshot this is basically inspired by gwen and for gwen 😭 @verstappen-cult once again thanking you for my max brain rot bc these conversations are just DOING something to me skskksjsj but MWAH! I hope you like it my love 🤍 happy reading! mimi

i. daisies; new beginnings, innocence, cheerfulness (age 6) You hadn’t been at your new school very long, having moved to the town recently. You’d struggled with making new friends, the new language making things even more difficult. But this had really ruined your day. Your bottom lip jutted out and began to wobble as you looked at your drawing you’d spent the whole morning perfecting before tidy-up time. What had once been a beautiful explosion of scribbled crayon colours across one page now lay in two halves. It was more than your poor six year old brain could handle and so you immediately burst into tears. Wailing and sobbing, your teacher hurried over to see what the issue was. Between gasping inhales and snotty sobs you pointed to your crumpled torn drawing. She picked it up and turned to address the class of wild six year olds, “Alright class, does anybody know what happened to Y/N’s picture?” Your teacher’s voice was gentle, “You won’t be in trouble but our friend is very sad so we need to apologise and make it right okay?” Your bottom lip wobbled as your sniffles quietened a little and a small voice could be heard from the back of the classroom, “I didn’t mean to!” A small boy stepped forwards, bright blonde hair with blue eyes and you glared at him. He looked down at the floor as he awkwardly scuffed his shoe against the carpet. The teacher approached him and crouched down, “Thank you for being honest Max… Can you come and say sorry?” He nodded and took the teacher’s hand as she lead him over to you, “I’m sorry…” His apology was accented by a slight lisp and you frowned, arms crossing in front of your chest. “Thank you Max, Y/N? Max said it was an accident and that he’s sorry okay?” You let out a slight ‘hmmph’ as the teacher straightened up at the sound of the lunch bell. Max was quick to run out of the classroom with his friends but you plodded behind the group, still sad about your artwork. 

You grabbed your lunchbox from your locker and looked for a chair in the lunch hall. Spotting your favourite yellow chair you couldn’t help but gasp as your little legs headed over as fast as they could carry you. You sat down and opened your lunchbox, legs swinging under the table. You’d barely taken two bites of your sandwich before a boy approached the table. You looked up and saw Max standing there, his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry I broke your drawing.” Max did his best to speak so you’d understand.  “‘S fine.” You grumbled, annoyed he was talking to you. Six year old you could really hold a grudge… His cheeks tinted pink as he removed his hands from behind his back to hold out a small bunch of daisies he’d clearly picked from the playing field. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. “Here, for you…” He took a step closer and you held your hand out for him to gently place the flowers in your palm. Your eyes looked at him and you noticed how his knees were slightly muddy and there was a streak of dirt on his cheek. You giggled and he beamed back at you, you suddenly felt very shy,

“D-do you want to sit here?” You patted the seat next to you, “We can eat lunch together?” Max nodded, racing off to grab his lunchbox. He dashed back and sat next to you, unzipping his lunchbag to compare the contents with yours. “Are we going to be friends Max?” He nodded enthusiastically, taking your hand in his, “Mhmm! Best friends Y/N! So you can call me Maxie!” 

ii. yellow amaryllis; pride, happiness, strength, determination (age 18) “Smile!” You stood with your friends, taking pictures in your graduation gowns and giggling together. But your heart panged, something - or rather someone - was missing from your day. Your eyes scanned the hall, desperately looking for a familiar blonde head. Despite knowing he was currently halfway round the world at a Grand Prix, “Boo!” A hand covered your eyes and a grin spread across your face at the familiar voice, “Maxie!” Turning around, you jumped into his arms and he laughed out loud, “Easy there bug!” You could hear your friends and family laughing and taking pictures of the two of you behind you but you still didn’t pull away, too embarrassed to let anyone see that you had tears welling up in your eyes. “I didn’t think you’d be able to make it…” Max squeezed you a little tighter, “I left as soon as the race was over, there was no way I was missing this!” You pulled back and he wiped the tear that had slipped down your cheek. He let go of you and extended his arm towards you, holding out a beautiful bouquet of yellow amaryllis flowers, complete with yellow and white ribbons. 

“Max,” you gasped “they’re so beautiful!” he nudged your shoulder with his, “Hey, you deserve it. They stand for pride, strength, happiness and determination.” “Determination” You spoke at the same time, finishing the sentence together. His eyes stared at you so adoringly, you felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. The moment was broken by your parents urging you to stand together for a picture. “What a beautiful couple!” You heard a teacher say as they walked past, “Oh no we’re not-” “Me and him? No way-” Both you and Max spoke over each other, completely missing the knowing looks your friends and family all gave each other. You couldn’t help the fresh wave of giggles that overtook you as Max pulled you into his side. You could have sworn that for the briefest of seconds, butterflies took flight in your stomach but you quickly brushed it off, blaming it on the excitement of the day. 

iii. - yellow roses; friendship | bluebells; comfort (age 22) Max couldn’t deny the way that panic flashed through his entire body when he answered your call and heard nothing but your sobs on the other end. “Maxie!” You hiccuped, “Y/N? What happened? Are you okay?” He stood up, not caring that he was interrupting an important team meeting. His alarm grew even more when your only response was to cry even harder. He looked back at the group of people sat around the conference table, “I’m sorry but it’s a family emergency, I have to go.” He raced down the corridor and poked the elevator button far more times than was necessary. “Talk to me bug… I can’t help if you don’t explain what’s going on.” “He cheated Max! I went to his place and he was in bed with my roommate.” Max felt a weird combination of calm and anger wash over him at the same time. Calm because he knew you were safe and anger because who the fuck did your boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend, think he was? Fuck the elevator, Max headed for the stairs, wanting to get to his car and book a flight to you as soon as possible. “Oh Y/N…” “Said he only did it because he knew that I’d been cheating on him with you.” You heard Max scoff, “God he’s so fucking dumb Y/N… I never really liked him, you know that right? You’ve always been too good for him…” You heard Max sigh on the other end of the line and you curled up into an even smaller ball in your bed, pulling Max’s hoodie up even more as your nose inhaled the comforting scent of him, 

“Can we move to facetime? Just wanna see you.” You choked out and he obliged, quickly filling your request. Max felt his heart breaking as he looked at you in your bed. “Hey! Is that my hoodie, bug?” You nodded with a sniffle as he did his best to cheer you up even just a little, “Traitor! You told me you didn’t know where it had gone…” A watery smile spread across your face. “Look, I’m gonna come see you okay?” You sat upright and stared at him hard, “Max Emilian Verstappen, you cannot do that! You have important meetings this week.” “Ooo full name?” He hissed through his teeth, “I am in trouble.” You shook your head at him, “You’re incorrigible.” “Big words we’re using today hmm?” You flipped him off and he laughed, “I’ll be there soon, bug okay?” You nodded and he smiled at you once more, “Just hang in there for a little longer.” He ended the call and immediately your smile dropped. In those brief few seconds you’d forgotten why you’d even called him in the first place. But now in the quiet of your apartment, the sad feelings crept up once more, smothering you and dragging you down. 

You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep the night before, but the combination of the doorbell ringing and the knocking on the door jolted you awake. Rushing to the front door, you threw it open, still slightly disorientated from your rude awakening, “Hey bug.” “Maxie!” You felt wide awake staring at Max who now stood on your doorstep, a warm smile across his face. You immediately felt like bursting into tears once more and Max was quick to see that, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you as he rested his head on top of yours. “It’s okay bug,” you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head, “I got you.” He waddled with you in his arms, through your doorway and into the hallway to close the door and give you some privacy. As he held you, he felt his heart race a little, thinking how he would never make you or let you cry like that if you were his girl - wait what? Now was not the time to be thinking about those kinds of things! Max held you until your sobbing had quietened down again, “Sorry,” you sniffed all snotty and he just poked your nose and laughed gently, “It’s okay Y/N.” His hand gently rubbed your arm as he watched you take a few deep breaths to compose yourself, “Here.” He pulled a somewhat squished bouquet of flowers out of what seemed like nowhere, “Sorry, they got a little uhhh… too involved in the hug?” You let out a breath of laughter and took them from him, a finger gently tracing the petals, “Yellow roses? For friendship right?” Max nodded with a smile, “Yellow roses, because I’m always gonna be your best friend who has your back and bluebells because they’re comforting.” You couldn’t help the way your heart clenched hearing his words. It seemed that Max not only bought you flowers often but he even thought of the meaning of what he was buying. For some reason, the thought had those pesky flutters appearing in your stomach but you quickly reprimanded yourself and shook them off. You hadn’t even broken up with your ex for more than 24 hours yet, but here you were thinking about Max romantically? You shook your head, that was a line you could never think of crossing, no matter how much it seemed to be crossing your mind more and more the older you got. 

iv. pink tulips; perfect love, affection (now) Now that you were living in Monaco, not too far from Max, movie nights were a common occurrence, with evenings being split between your apartment and his. Food would be ordered and wine would be drunk, movies would be played but barely watched as the two of you would end up talking into the night and continue long after the credits had finished rolling. If there was one thing you could count on Max for, it was his promptness and so when the clock read seven o’clock exactly, you knew it would only be a matter of seconds before you heard his footsteps down the hallway to your apartment. You were proven correct as Max let himself into your apartment, calling out as he did so, “Hey bug! It’s just me!” “In the living room!” You called back, smiling as he appeared in the doorway, holding something behind his back, “What have you got there hmm?” Max’s smile wavered for a second and you frowned, sitting up on the couch, “Max?” He exhaled and bit his lip nervously, “Maxie?” You tried again much more softly, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, “I’m about to say something and…” He sighed, “I just want you to let me finish okay?” You nodded confused as he came to sit next to you, holding out a bouquet of pink tulips as he did so. You felt yourself gasp as you stared at the flowers, admiring the pretty wrapping and how the ribbon matched the flowers. You wracked your brain as you stared, desperately trying to recall the meaning, Max always gave flowers with meaning. Appreciation? No, apology? Nope not that... No. It couldn’t be? Could it? “Affection?” You didn’t even realise you’d spoken the word out loud but a sharp inhale from Max was enough to tell you he’d heard you. Your eyes shot up to his face and noticed he wouldn’t even look at you, instead choosing to gently trace over the bouquet ribbon, “Yes.” His cheeks were pink and you could have sworn you stopped breathing. It was silent in your apartment. The only noise coming from the traffic outside and the thump of your neighbour as their work boots clunked over the floor before their door slammed. The noise pulled you out of your silence as you stared at Max, “What did you just say?” Max finally dared to look up as he gazed into your eyes, “Pink tulips, affection, perfect l…” “Perfect what?” There was no way he was going to say what you thought he was going to say… “Perfect love.” You stood up from the couch, immediately pacing back and forth as your hands started to fumble together, “Max…” You breathed, finally stopping to look at him sat staring at you. “Okay so this is the part where I need you to listen…” You let out a laugh of disbelief but said nothing as he swallowed, hands nervously rubbing the legs of his jeans. “I like you.” You froze as he continued, “I like you and I think I honestly have for a while… I know that this might not be the best time to tell you but I just can’t keep kidding myself anymore. The feelings I have for you? They’re not things I would be feeling if you were just a best friend to me Y/N. God I think I always knew it was you… From the day I ruined your drawing and then when I surprised you at your graduation… And then that horrific breakup,” You both winced, “I swore then that I would never let you cry over another man like that again. Because I wanted to be the only man that you had from then on.” Your lips parted as a nervous exhale left you. He stopped his rambling, panting slightly as he looked at you, “If you have anything to say, now would be a good time to say it…” You looked at him. Max, your Max. The boy that had been there for you through everything, your best friend.

“No…” You whispered out, your own heart breaking at your words, “I can’t…” Max looked absolutely crushed, “No?” His voice was quiet, “Why?” You shrugged, bottom lip trembling, “I can’t risk losing you.” Max scoffed, “Losing me?” “What if we break up hmm? You’re telling me we would be able to go back to being best friends like nothing ever happened? What if it doesn’t work hmm?” Max shook his head as your spoke, “You think I would say this to you if I didn’t think it would work?” “I-I… I don’t know!” You exclaimed as Max stood up, “You won’t even try?” “I’m too scared to Max…” He nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets as you stared at him, “I’m so sorry.” You whispered, “Me too.” he said before turning and walking out. The door hadn’t even closed behind him before you’d collapsed to the floor, your legs giving out. You’d never cried so hard because of him before. Not when he’d ripped your drawing, not when he'd surprised you at graduation, not even when he’d held you after your breakup. 

You stared at the pink tulips as they lay on your couch, their bright happy hopeful colour taunting you. You stalked over to them and picked them up, heading straight to the trash, pulling your arm back to throw them away but you found yourself physically unable to do it. 

i. flowers are a language of their own You weren’t sure whether it was convenient or not that Max had a double header after that conversation. Usually you would spam him while he was away and he would pick things up when he could. Often late at night in his hotel bed, a goofy grin plastered across his face as he opened your fit pics and food diary pics of the day, reading through your spam about work, friends and cute cats you’d spotted on the street.

But this time there had been nothing. From either of you. It had been strange and hurtful. You sighed as you checked your phone again for the millionth time that day, already knowing there would be no new notifications from him. Why would there be? The guy you liked had confessed to you and you’d broken his heart because you were too scared he’d break yours. Groaning you dropped your head to the kitchen counter, thumping your forehead against it a few times in the hope of gaining some sense of clarity. It didn’t work. You sighed and stood up straight. You were still kicking yourself for shutting him down so quickly. Yes, he was your Maxie, your best friend, but wasn’t that the point? He knew you so well, he cared for you and loved you, in whatever capacity. He would never intentionally hurt you. You couldn’t lie to yourself, there had been a continuous pull in your stomach and a slight ache in your chest the longer you went without talking to him. You knew if you could do the situation over again you would give a completely different answer. You didn’t want him to break your heart but now you had lost him completely. 

Your head shot up as a plan began to form in your head. Grabbing your phone you looked up plane tickets for the country you knew Max was in at the moment. You knew things would be tricky without his help and you didn’t even know if it would work out, but for him you had to try. Selecting your seat you rushed to pack a bag, noticing how the now dry and dead tulips still lay on your bedroom vanity, the pink now much less vibrant and tinged with brown. Your stomach flipped and you hoped to god it would all work out. You knew which hotel the team usually stayed at when they were racing in that specific country and so after making a quick stop you headed straight there, planning to just wait until you were spotted by someone from the team who recognised you and took pity on you. You didn’t have to wait long as one of Max’s race engineers was exiting the building just as your taxi pulled up. Clambering out of the vehicle as you spotted him, he smiled and waved, “Hey! Didn’t know you were coming this weekend? Max usually says something.” “Ah,” you shuffled awkwardly, not wanting to give anything away about your strained relationship, “it’s a surprise!” His eyes widened and he grinned at you knowingly, especially when he spotted what you carried in your arms. “Well… Seeing as it’s you, I’ll give you his room number.” After obtaining the information you needed you thanked him and headed inside, getting on the elevator and pressing the button for his floor as you thanked whatever higher powers there were that so far the plan was working. As the bell dinged for your floor you gulped, a whole new wave of nerves and anxiety washing over you. What if he didn’t want to see you? What if he got angry with you and sent you away? But what if he heard you out? Oh crap, what were you gonna say? 

Through your internal rambling, you had somehow managed to walk to his door and now you stood frozen. Unable to knock and unable to move. Swallowing the lump in your throat you knocked the door gently. You heard a crash and then a curse in Dutch came from inside and you winced. Oh god, if he was already in a bad mood… This wouldn’t help. The door swung open and a tired looking Max stood there. Dressed in cosy sweatpants and navy hoodie, no logos in sight but still fitting his team colours. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you in front of him.  “Y/N?” You gave the softest of smiles nervously, “Hi Maxie.”

You weren’t sure what you’d expected when you saw him. You’d thought about how he might yell or cry or get mad or slam the door in your face but you certainly hadn’t expected him to grab your arms and pull you into a hug, burying his face in your neck, “Fuck, I missed you so much I’m so sorry…” You sniffled, pulling back and looking at him, “Why are you sorry?! I’m sorry! I never should have doubted you-” “I never should have pressured you-” “You didn’t! I never should have jumped to conclusions about how things would end. God. It’s been so miserable without you…” You noticed his eyes growing tearful. “Here, come in.” He gently pulled you into the room and closed the door behind you. Your eyes swept the room and zeroed in on an object on his bed, “Is that my t-shirt?” You asked incredulously, mouth gaping at him slightly as he rushed to shove it in his suitcase, “N-no!” “Max Emilian…” Your voice was low, “M-maybe…” You gave him a pointed stare and he relented, “Okay yes fine it is.” He sighed, “I found it at my apartment that night when I got back and… I just… I didn’t have you and it was the closest thing…” He trailed off, sitting on the bed. You padded across the room to take a seat next to him, one hand gently rubbing his back, “I know Maxie… Me too.” His head rested on your shoulder and you inhaled shakily, it was now or never. 

You looked back across the room at where your things lay in the entrance. You stood up and made your way over, picking up what you needed before turning back to him with your arms behind your back. “I’m about to say something…” His head shot up to look at you, “and I need you to let me finish.” You gave him a tearful smile and he swore he felt his breathing quicken as you practically echoed his words from a few weeks ago. You approached him and offered him the bouquet from behind your back. He stared at it for a moment before his eyes flicked up to look at yours.

“Red roses?” You nodded, unable to keep looking at him - partly shy and partly terrified of his answer, until he gently held your chin and tilted your head up to meet his gaze once more, “Red roses.” “You know what they mean don’t you?” “I picked them for a reason.” He stood up and gently took them from you, one hand sliding round your waist to pull you into him, “Baby’s breath?” “Baby’s breath.” You looked down, breathing your answer as his face got closer to yours. “Is this your speech then?” You let out a breath, “I figured I would let the flowers speak for themselves, god knows you’ve been doing it long enough.”

His lips were practically on yours and it took everything in you to keep standing as his next words were brushed against your lips, “Is this your answer then?” You nodded, “No schat, please… Let me hear you say it…” His eyes closed as he felt your shuddering breath, “Yes, Max. Yes, I want to try with you, I love you and that’s enough to tell me we should try-” Any further words you had were cut off by Max’s lips meeting yours. His grip around your waist tightened, the flowers sliding from his other hand to the floor as he gently cupped your face, thumb rubbing back and forth across your cheek. You couldn’t help the way you smiled against his lips and he laughed at the feeling, the two of you giggling and grinning between kisses like the lovesick idiots you were. 

Red roses; declaration of love, Baby’s breath; eternal love.   

[serpentandlily]

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny IV

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny IV - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: a lil bit of angst, a lil bit of fluff, a lil bit of suggestion

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

To say he was panicking would be an understatement. 

No, Eris had felt panicked when he had opened the door to his chambers and realized his mate was not there. But that panic turned to full-fledged terror when he had finally tracked down the two handmaidens he'd assigned her this morning and they both said they had no idea where his mate was. 

He stalked through the Forest Home---trying to appear calm and nonchalant despite what he felt. He didn't want anyone to catch wind of something being amiss. Not before he was able to find his mate and safely get her back to his chambers. Lucky for him, he'd been forced to wear a mask his whole life and this was no different. 

A bark from behind caused him to whirl around. Ashera came running from around the corner, ears flapping and tail wagging. That had to be a good sign. She yipped again when she caught up to him and gripped the edge of his cuff in her sharp teeth.

"Did you find her, Ash?" Eris asked, quietly. 

He was answered with a pull of her teeth. His shoulders loosened with relief and he let Ashera guide him to wherever it was that she had found his mate. He had given Ashera the order to find her the minute he realized she was missing and had gone the opposite way of her to cover more ground. 

A few moments later, he found himself in front of the doors to the library. Ashera let go of him and started to paw at the doors with a whine. He could hear two voices from behind the doors. His mate's and....

He grabbed both handles and yanked open the double doors, stalking inside. 

"And do you want to know what I said—" His brother, Finnegan, abruptly cut off his sentence when the sound of the doors slamming shut behind Eris and Ashera caught his attention. He looked up, smirking when he caught sight of his frazzled brother. 

Seated in front of his brother, a chessboard on the table between them, was his mate. She turned in her chair, eyes wide as she looked over with surprise until she recognized who was there. A soft smile bloomed on her beautiful face, her doe eyes lighting up. 

No one had ever looked at him like that when he entered rooms. Not even his own mother. No, he was usually met with either fear or disdain. But not from his mate... She should've been staring at him with disgust or contempt, especially after how he had treated her yesterday and especially after their argument this morning when he forbade her from leaving his room. Instead, she seemed happy to see him. 

Was she putting on a front for his brother?

"Eris!" she exclaimed, rising from her seat. "You're back. Oh, you won't believe the day I've had! Finn found me wandering around and—"

"Come here," Eris ordered, cutting her off. He held out his hand towards her. His brother's smirk grew as Eris glowered at him. His mate’s eyebrows rose in question but she thankfully listened to him, walking to his side and grasping his hand in her much smaller, much softer one. 

Ashera let out an excited yip and brushed up against her legs, causing his mate to smile down at her. Honestly, he should've known she was his mate the minute his hounds hadn't torn into her when she first appeared in Autumn that day. Should've known the second Ashera had pranced forward and tried to comfort her, for Gods' sake. His dogs were prime hunters, yet around her, they were reduced to nothing more than fluffy house pets it seemed. 

He remembered seeing her for the first time, her leg stuck in that bear trap. Despite the tears running down her face and her hair tangled with leaves and twigs, she was the most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. So soft and delicate. The opposite of everything he was. 

But the mating bond hadn’t truly snapped until the shadowsinger had shown up in the clearing that day and whisked her into his arms. She had looked straight at him and a golden thread had unwoven in his chest, causing him to stagger back just as they disappeared in a swirl of shadows. It had taken all of his will power not to immediately storm the Night Court if only to see her for a second more.

“Can I not have her for a few more minutes, brother?” Finn asked, tossing his arms behind his head and resting his head against them with a smug grin. “We’re nearly finished with our game.”

Eris sneered at his brother. “If I see you sniffing around her again, I’ll rip out your throat.”

“Eris!” His mate exclaimed, looking up at him with wide eyes. He ignored her, still glaring daggers at his brother who didn’t even flinch at the threat. 

“You’re lucky I stumbled upon her before father did,” Finn crooned. “I’d say you owe me one for allowing her the pleasure of my company.” 

“Well, consider me not ending you where you stand your one and only favor,” Eris retorted. His mate went to pull her hand from his but he gripped her tighter, finally looking down at her. “Come on, we’re leaving.” 

He stalked towards the library door, pulling her with him despite her soft protests. He didn’t say a word to her as he led her back to his chambers, not wanting any servants milling about to gossip if they heard anything. He only released her hand once they were safely in the living area of his quarters and behind the heavy wards set up. 

“Are you out of your mind?” She hissed at him, holding her hand to her chest. 

“Are you?” He bit back, flicking his hair out of his face. “I gave your strict orders to stay here while I was gone or with your handmaidens!”

“I am not something you can just keep under lock and key!”

“You’re not in the Night Court anymore, bunny,” Eris argued. “My father is nothing like Rhysand. The males outside these doors are nothing like those two wretched Illyrians. I can have you chained to my bed and no one would bat an eye, do you understand?”

“And is that what you’ll do if I don’t listen to you?” She retorted, crossing her arms. “Put me in chains?”

“No,” he snapped. “But I will lock you in here if I must. I’d rather you hate me than let anything happen to you.” 

“Then take me out with you,” she protested. “Don’t leave me here!” 

Eris let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking down at his irritating, foolish, and completely and utterly bewitching mate. Her large eyes were hopeful, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth. The mating bond was driving him absolutely wild. He wanted to shove her against the wall and rip that lip out of her teeth with his own. 

“Please,” she whispered. 

“Fine,” he growled. “But if I agree to take you out tomorrow afternoon, you will agree to stay inside my chambers unless otherwise instructed. Do you understand?”

Those sweet, alluring eyes turned callous in a matter of seconds.

“So, you intend to treat me like a dog? Like a pet?” she snapped, crossing her arms. “Actually, I take that back. You even treat your dogs better than that!” 

As if proving her point, Ashera jumped up on the couch, laid down and covered her face with her paw, as if she felt his mate’s exasperation. 

“Have you any idea what is at stake here?” he bit back. “I do not intend to treat you like a pet. I intend to keep you safe!”

“And you think by keeping me locked away, I’ll be safe? They all know where your chambers are, Eris. I’m no safer here than I am anywhere else in this manor!” 

“At least, I’ll know where you are! Do you have any idea how worried I was when I went to find you earlier and you weren’t here?”

Her eyes widened and her arms fell limp at her sides. “You… you were worried?”

Eris tossed his arms in the air, letting out a noise of frustration. “Of course, I was worried. Do you know how many enemies I have in this court? Do you know how many people would wish to harm you if they had the chance just to hurt me?”

“I thought…” She paused, rubbing her arm.

Eris glared down at her. “You thought what? Go on, bunny, tell me what that little mind of yours thought?” 

“I thought you were mad! And can you blame me?” she huffed up at him. “You treat me like a nuisance, insult me any chance you get! Why the hell would I ever think you were worried about me? I’m sure you’d just be so over the moon if someone did get rid of me! Since I’m such a burden.” 

There were a lot of things in life Eris regretted but calling his mate a burden this morning was now on the top of that list. He hadn’t meant it. Of course, he hadn’t. She just didn’t understand the severity of the situation. He didn’t want to be mean to her or to have her hate him… but if it kept her safe, then so be it. At least, that had been his train of thought. But seeing the hurt on her face when those words had come out of his mouth had nearly killed him. 

“I’m sorry, okay,” Eris groaned. “I’m sorry I called you that. It’s not true. It was never true but bunny…you really don’t understand…”

“No, Eris, I do,” she snarled. “I’m not as stupid or naive as everyone likes to think I am!”

“Not naive?��� Eris mocked. “Then what do you call galavanting around the Forest House with one of my own brothers?”

“Your brother was fine,” his mate replied. “He was perfectly polite. All he did was show me around a bit and then take me to the library as I requested.”

Eris scoffed. “You don’t know him like I do.” 

“You know what’s funny? That is the exact thing my sisters would say about me and yet they have no idea who I am. They’ve never let me be anything other than the girl they think I am. Have you thought that perhaps this competition your father has you all so convinced of between you guys doesn’t even exist? Have you ever even tried talking to one another without your father’s influence?” 

She wasn’t wrong but Eris knew how deep his father had his claws in his brothers. It would take a lot to shake them from his grasp. Time and effort he wasn’t afforded with at the moment. Not when he constantly had to look over his shoulder and now had to keep his mate safe at all times. This court was corrupt and dangerous—everyone here was in survival mode. 

These hypotheticals might be worth a discussion and if it were up to him, he would’ve taken his mother and younger brothers far away from his father a long time ago. But alas, he did not have such power…yet. But perhaps things could change. Though, nothing would so long as his father still sat on the Autumn throne. Until then, these sorts of conversations were not worth the time. 

“You speak on things you have no knowledge about and I see little point in having this conversation with you,” Eris said, straightening out his lapels. “I have a meeting I must attend with my father. Stay here.”

And then he left swiftly, before his mate could see just how much her words affected him, before he grabbed her and winnowed as far from this court as he could—consequences be damned. She drove him absolutely mad but Gods, did he find her so enticing. She was wild and impulsive and had a lot to learn, but the sort of honesty and hopeful outlook she had…Well he could only hope he could protect that, hoped he could keep her sweet and kind and soft and all the things no one had ever allowed him to be. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

You had just woken up when your two handmaidens, Willow and Ivy, entered the room, pestering you to get up. Bleary eyed, you let them drag you into the bath before they sat you in front of the vanity. Ivy braided your hair while Willow dusted some light makeup on your face. 

“Can I ask what you are prepping me for?”

“Lord Eris has requested that we get you ready for an afternoon trek on horseback,” Ivy answered, with a slight smile on her face. 

Your eyes widened, taken aback. You hadn’t spoken to Eris since your fight yesterday. In fact, he had never even returned to his chambers last night. You didn’t try to leave, in fear that you would find the door locked and all your worries of the kind of male you were mated to would be proven true. Instead, you had pretended that a night in was just what you wanted, begrudgingly following his command. 

They dressed you in an off the shoulder linen chemise and flowy skirt that fell to your shins before lacing you into a burnt orange corset that had your lungs screaming for air. They slipped a pair of brown leather boots onto your feet.

“Surely trousers would be more appropriate?” you asked, spinning around so your skirt swished around the tops of your boots. Ivy and Willow gasped at your words, placing a hand over their hearts.

“A lady should never be seen in trousers,” Ivy declared, aghast.

Their shock was humorous to you, so you bit your lip to keep from laughing. Gods, the Autumn Court was so backwards sometimes. You were getting better at choosing your battles, so you said nothing else as they led you out of Eris’s chambers to the horse stables. 

Eris stood there next to another male who was preparing two horses. Your mouth dried a bit at the sight of him. He was wearing a loosely tied tunic, tucked into brown breeches and a pair of riding boots. His red hair glimmered in the sun like a ruby gem, his pale skin nearly glowing. He looked as if the Autumn forest made him itself.  

You hadn’t realized you had paused in your steps until your two handmaidens giggled next to you. 

“You are a very lucky female, Lady Y/n,” Ivy whispered to you with another giggle, causing your cheeks to turn pink. 

“Lord Eris is a very lucky male to have someone as lovely as Lady Y/n as his mate,” Willow countered, which only made your blush deepen. 

Eris noticed you as you drew closer and his eyes trailed over your form, heat swirling in them. You felt goosebumps rise on your skin under his gaze. His fox-like face was so beautiful, so enchanting, it was hard to look away. You kept eye contact with him as your handmaidens presented you. 

“Lady Archeron, as you requested, my Lord,” Willow said as she curtsied.  

“Thank you, ladies, you may continue on with the rest of your duties,” he said to them, though he didn’t stop looking at you which caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. The two girls sauntered off, their giggles heard until they rounded the corner. 

You wanted to be mad at him still, but this seemed like a sort of peace offering or apology for yesterday. One that you decided to accept. You walked forward until you were at his side, glancing at the large horses. 

“This is Marigold. She is our most well-mannered horse,” Eris said. “Go on, you can pet her. She won’t bite.” 

“I’ve never ridden a horse, my Lord,” you said, shyly, reaching out a hand to pet the one in front of you. 

Eris seemed surprised but made no comment on it. He simply turned to the stableboy and waved a hand at him. “One horse will do today, Landon.” 

“Oh, are you going to teach—”

You squeaked as Eris grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you onto the horse as if you weighed nothing, your cheeks turning bright red. A moment later, he lifted himself onto the horse, right behind you. The butterflies in your stomach were worked into a frenzy as his long legs encompassed you and your back was pressed against his firm chest. 

“Yes, bunny, I’m going to teach you,” Eris whispered, his breath dancing along the edge of your pointed ear. You could hear the smirk in his voice, as if he knew exactly the kind of reaction he was causing inside of you. 

“Is this not improper?” you asked. “Aren’t ladies supposed to sit with both their legs on one side?”

It had been a hard transition for you—to go from living in poverty in that tiny cottage to living in high society. You weren’t like your other sisters who had spent their childhood years being trained to be ladies. You could hardly remember any part of your life before your mother died. 

It was, perhaps, why you felt the closet to Feyre of all your sisters. Because she, too, was wild in a way that Elain and Nesta weren’t. 

“Something tells me you have no concern over how ladylike you are, bunny,” Eris chuckled, his hard chest rumbling against your back. Your cheeks flared up again and you tossed him a glare over your shoulder. 

“Everyone else seems so concerned about my virtue and image,” you hissed. 

“Well, I’m not,” Eris retorted. “Go on, grab the reins.” 

You hesitantly wrapped your fingers around the leather straps and nearly jolted in surprise as Eris’s placed his calloused hands on top of yours. He started to maneuver your fingers. “You want to keep your thumbs on top and your fingers closed around them.” 

Once he seemed satisfied, he tapped the horse on the side and she began her trot. You bit your lip as his hands slid off the reins and on to your thighs. “Relax your legs, bunny. Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall off.” 

You hadn’t realized how much you were squeezing the poor horse until he lightly stroked your thighs, getting them to loosen before his hands slid to your waist instead.

"What do I do with these?” You asked, nodding towards the reins in your hands.  

“Nothing for now,” Eris answered. “You use them to steer or to get her to stop.”

His proximity to you and the tiny circles he absentmindedly rubbed on your waist with his thumbs caused your body to hyperfocus on all the places you were touching. You could hardly pay attention to his instructions and the more the two of you continued on, the more you found yourself relaxing into his chest—soaking in the heat that seemed to exude off his body. 

Once you seemed to get the hang on the basics, a soft silence fell between the two of you. The sounds of the forest came alive the deeper you traveled into the trees. It was truly beautiful out here. The red and orange leaves on the trees reminded you of the painting Feyre had done on your drawer on the dresser back when you were living in the cottage. 

“I’m sorry,” Eris whispered into your ear, breaking the silence and surprising you. “For yesterday.” 

You softened at his words. “It’s okay.”

“No,” he said, his grip on your waist tightening. “It wasn’t okay. It pained me to hear you say I think of you as a nuisance, as something to get rid of. It is simply not true, bunny and I’m sorry for ever making you believe I think that.”

Eris didn’t seem like the type of male to apologize for his actions, so it meant more to hear it from him. 

“I just wish you would stop trying to push me away. I’m tired of everyone always deciding what's best for me instead of trusting me to know it myself,” you sighed.

“I know and I’m sorry. I know how unseen you feel.” 

He seemed to see right through you. Was it the mating bond that allowed such a thing? Or was it just something you had in common? No one had ever looked closely at you. You were the baby of the family, never allowed to be involved in decisions or important things. You lived in your own world most of the time. 

Although Eris was brought up in a far different environment than you, you couldn’t help but think he felt the same way. That he was constricted and forced to play a role he had no wish to. That he was written off as arrogant and cruel simply because he was born under a male who was. 

But he was nothing like his father. 

“I know you do because I know you feel the same way, Eris,” you whispered, glancing back at him. “But I see you.” 

“Perhaps that scares me.” His amber eyes were still guarded as he looked down at you. “No one has ever looked before. No one has ever wanted to.” 

“I do,” you said, holding his gaze. “I want to.” 

It was silent for a moment and you twisted back around, staring at the forest ahead.

“You shouldn’t,” Eris said, so quietly, that you were certain he was talking to himself. But despite his words, a tension had been lifted between the two of you.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

A little while later and after several whines about her legs starting to hurt, Eris let his mate have a break. He helped her off Marigold and found a tree to tie the horse to so the two of them could walk for a bit. 

He kept a step behind her, watching as she spun in a circle, the leaves crunching beneath her boots, as she took in the forest. The wonder and excitement in her eyes caused a spark in his chest. Those things had long since been beaten out of him so it was nice to see them in someone he already cared so deeply about. 

Eris enjoyed being out here with her, away from the Forest House and everyone else. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he kept his guard up to protect his wonderfully oblivious mate from any harm that might come her way. 

“It’s so beautiful here,” his mate whispered.

The sunlight casted gold rays of light through the leaves, illuminating her beautiful face. She looked made for this kind of place, for Autumn. His chest ached at the sight—at what could be if his father wasn’t such a conniving bastard. 

“It is,” Eris said softly, his amber eyes still trained on his mate. She peeked over her shoulder at him, blushing as she met his gaze. Gods, if he were a lesser male, he’d have shoved her up against a tree and claimed her as his already. 

“Hey, I have an idea!”

“I’m sure you do,” he chuckled and she whirled around, placing her hands on her hips as she glared at him.

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

He shook his head, biting back a smile. “Nothing. What is your idea, bunny?” 

“We should play a game,” she said. “Like hide and seek.” 

Eris snorted. “Hide and seek? What are we, children? I’m over five hundred years old, bunny, I’m not going to play games with you.” 

“Fine, suit yourself,” she shrugged. “But I guess that means you’ll have to return to the Forest House without me unless of course…you find me.”

And then she darted off into the trees, weaving her way out of his view. He expected to find himself irritated, but it was the opposite. He couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped from his mouth at how ridiculous his mate was. Ridiculous and brash—but so endearing. 

“You can’t hide from me, bunny,” he shouted into the trees.

Silence met his ears and then…a twig snapped in the distance. He sauntered off in the direction of the noise. He would entertain her absurd game but he would not be running off like some wild beast through the forest. He followed her enticing scent of harvest apples and forest pine, twisting through the tall trees and leaf-covered ground. 

He saw a flash of her hair from the corner of his eye and spun in place, listening for her footsteps. He continued following after her, getting small glimpses of her here and there, hearing the tiny giggles that seemed to echo in the silent forest and he realized that a small smile had grown on his face as the game went on. 

Until things went so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. He froze, sniffing the air. He could still smell her but where had she gone? He spun in place, looking for footprints and listening for any sounds but…nothing. His heart started to beat faster in his chest, suddenly worried she had run off too far. 

“Bunny,” he shouted. “You can come out now!” 

Nothing.

The smile on his face dropped and he continued his search. Had she ran into some creature that took her? Had his guard fallen so low that he hadn’t realized that someone else was out here? 

“Hey, bunny—fuck!”

Something ran straight into his back and wrapped their arms around his neck, making him stagger forward. He turned around and pinned them against the tree with a snarl so quickly he hadn’t even realized what exactly had knocked into him until he heard the familiar giggles and his mate’s scent washed over him. 

“Got you!”

She was staring up at him with wide, excited eyes—her face flushed from her exertion. He stared at her in disbelief, uncertain how she was able to sneak up and ambush him like that. The hand that had wrapped itself around her throat moved to rest on the tree next to her head.   

“And so the sly bunny ensnares the dumb fox,” she sang between her pants, her arms still around his neck, her back still pressed against the tree.

He let out a breath, staring down at her with a small glare. “That is not funny. I could’ve hurt you!” 

“But you didn’t,” she countered, not seeming concerned about it at all. “I’m surprised I was able to sneak behind you. I thought for sure you saw me at one point. You looked right at me!” 

His brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I was standing right there,” she laughed, pointing at a spot to their left. “And you looked right at me! I thought I was busted but I don’t know, Eris, you might be going blind with age.” 

Her eyes held amusement as she looked up at him but he was confused. He had no idea what she was talking about—he hadn’t seen her at all. She had not been standing there. She must’ve been mistaking those trees for another. 

“Very funny,” he said, deadpanned. 

“Oh, don’t be a sore loser,” she teased, her fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, absentmindedly. Her touch sent shivers down his spine. Her body pressed against his fought against the control he had. 

He wanted to knock the smug smile right off her face. He stepped closer, placing his free hand on her sternum and trapping her against the tree. He felt her breath hitch and grinned. 

“I’m not the loser,” he purred, before leaning down to whisper in her ear, “You’re still ensnared by me, bunny. Not the other way around.” 

Being this close to her again reminded him of all the ways he would take her and he let out a heavy breath, trying to keep from getting hard and scaring her away. Her head was tilted back so she could stare at him, her smile slipping as her heart pounded loudly enough that he could hear it through her chest. It seemed to beat in rhythm was his. 

He was certain she was going to cave first. His other hand still rested against the tree next to her head, allowing her the chance to dip away if she wanted. Her cheeks turned pink and he was sure she was about to start stuttering like a girlish maiden as she usually did when she said something that absolutely surprised him.

“Maybe I want to be ensnared by you, Eris,” she whispered.

Heat spread through his body like a wildfire and he knew it exuded off of him by the way she melted into his touch, her eyes flickering down to his lips as she shuddered. She bit her lip and he growled, his hand moving up her sternum until it rested against her cheek. He plucked her lip free with his thumb and she met his gaze again—her eyes wide and innocent yet full of desire. He could feel her anticipation down the mating bond, which glowed like firelight between them, and he knew she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. 

The mating bond sang in his chest.

Mine….Mine….Mine…

She glanced down at his lips again and the look she gave him was enough to snap the last string holding his composure. 

So he surged forward and passionately kissed her. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

One second you were thinking of how much you wished Eris would kiss you and the next second he was. His lips were soft, softer than you imagined, and so warm. Your eyes fluttered shut and you kissed him back with the same fire and eagerness that had Eris groaning against your lips. The hand that was resting on your cheek moved to your neck and angled your head back farther so he could deepen the kiss.

One of your own hands slipped into his hair, tangling some red strands between your fingers as the butterflies in your stomach began their frenzy again. All thoughts seemed to cease at that moment. All you could feel was Eris’s body pressed against yours, his kiss so full of hunger that your knees almost buckled under the weight of it. 

Your other hand slipped down to grab onto the collar of his tunic and yank him closer. He growled and bit down on your bottom lip; you gasped at the slight pain. He used that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth and his kiss turned crazed. 

Fire sparked under your skin, so hot it threatened to consume you. 

His hand slipped down to your thigh, yanking your leg up around his hip so he could press in closer to you—nailing you to the tree. The rough bark rubbed against your back, serving as a contrast to the softness of his lips on yours. 

He devoured you, kissed you in a way no one ever had before. You didn’t fight for dominance. Not when it felt this good to surrender yourself to him. Heat and wetness pooled in your core—the evidence of his own arousal pressed firmly against your stomach as his tongue continued to explore every crevice in your mouth, claiming it as his. 

Every inch of your skin was tingling as he pulled away and began to trail feverish kisses down your jaw and neck—giving you the chance to breathe for a moment. You whimpered as his canines nipped at the sensitive skin on your throat, marking you. 

“Do you know how much I think of this?” Eris groaned against your skin, his nose trailing up the column of your throat. “Of ravishing you like this.” 

“Y-you do?” You stuttered as his canines grazed your neck again—reminding you again that Eris was no human man. No, he was much more than that of a man. He wasn’t even a full High Lord yet and still, you could feel his power crackling around you like burning embers. 

“Oh, bunny,” Eris purred, pulling back to look at you with that fox-like grin that had your knees weak again. “I think of you like this—at my mercy—all the damn time.” 

He leaned down and kissed you again until your face was flushed, your lips swollen and your neck was full of love bites. The both of you were panting as he rested his forehead against yours, his amber eyes staring down at you with flame licking his irises, full of hunger and lust and longing. 

You knew at that moment that you belonged to Eris because there was no way anyone else on this earth would make you feel as you did now. And you didn’t want there to be anyone else. No, your heart and mind sang for him and him only. No matter how things turned out, you knew they always would. It was scary and thrilling and daunting but it was true. 

And by the way he stared down at you, you knew he felt it too. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

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*If you asked to be on the taglist and you don't see your username, tumblr wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :(

[norrisjpg]

── ☆ tea talks & torn paper

════════════════════════

series: my kind of woman, LN⁴

content: swearing, max & pietra being adorable, soft lando, relationship advice, torn pages, unspoken feelings and a little bit of tension

pairing: lando norris x fem!oc

rora's thoughts: hi everyone, ever so sorry i went quiet on you all! i was having a bit of an unmotivated era and literally gave up on life itself! but, i've had a mental reset and i'm ready to get back at writing again. so, i really hope you enjoy this one, and welcome to the world of my kind of woman!

════════════════════════

LILY’S FRIDAY AFTERNOON wasn’t supposed to look like this. 

her small suitcase had been packed, outfits meticulously chosen, and nervous system prepared for a full-on media blitz at the book launch she’d been anticipating for weeks. but, when the publishing company had abruptly postponed the event due to some sort of logistical complication, lily had found herself with an unclaimed weekend and a non-refundable train ticket to oxford.

“so, you’re sure you don’t want to reschedule this book launch thing?” the brit piped up from the couch. 

“it’s not reschedulable, you knob.” lily rolled her eyes as she placed her once-packed shoes back on the rack. “the whole thing was canned.”

“what a shame,” pietra teased, walking over to the couch and flopping down next to her boyfriend. “i was really looking forward to my saturday night voice notes about how some sweaty guy grabbed your ass.”

“thankyou p.” the younger fewtrell gave her a deadpan look.

“so welcome.” the girl grinned.

“the offer to come with me and p is still there,” max said breezily. “if you want it, of course. it’ll be fun, he has like ten spare rooms, and you haven’t seen him in ages.”

“you’re not giving me much time to think about this.” she frowned, zipping the suitcase back up.

“because i know you, el.” her brother replied. “you’ll just be in your flat all weekend, reading something sappy and avoiding socialisation – or god forbid, you spend it with harry.”

“hey, leave harry out of this – and maybe i like being a recluse.”

“oh, we’re going golfing too, so pack some golf-friendly clothes.” he pointed out, trying to think of any other things she should know. “and lando has a hot-tub, and a sauna, and a gym… actually just pack for everything.”

“does he even know i’m coming?” she asked, still contemplating whether she should just bale on her not-certain plans already.

“he’s lando, he’d probably forget even if i did tell him.” max shrugged casually, earning a hand to the shoulder from pietra.

“lily, it’ll be fine. lando likes you, you like lando. it’s not like he’s going to make you sleep on the driveway – so you’re not uninvited, just a… nice surprise.”

“okay, i’ll come, when are we leaving?” lily sighed, wheeling her case toward her bedroom. 

max checked his watch, “in thirty.” 

• • • •

THE BACKSEATS of max’s audi were surprisingly spacious, allowing lily to stretch her legs out across the seats, and lean on the pillow she’d brought with her. the spine of her latest read was pressed against her knee, a good girl’s guide to murder printed neatly in black and red on a white background. she’d been meaning to read it for years now, but she’d never quite gotten around to opening the front page – so this was a good excuse, an hours drive to get stuck in.

invested in the teenager’s journey, she had neglected to notice that max had indicated down a tree-lined driveway, and that lando’s surrey pad had come into view – sleek, modern lines softened by ivy-covered walls and warm yellow lights pouring from the interior. 

lando and lily had known each other since they were fifteen, meeting at one of max’s karting races. he’d been awkward and geeky, gushing over engine types and tyre wear, but always sweet and polite with her, if a little nervous sometimes. but the last time she’d seen him was almost a year ago. he’d filled out (obviously, formula 1 drivers aren’t exactly stick-like), and he was charming, making her laugh with well-polished wit and the same immature humour she’d grown to love in their childhood. he’d been effortlessly kind, gentle, sweet in an undemanding way that didn’t make her feel like she had to perform. 

“i still feel weird showing up unannounced.” lily mumbled as she closed her book and carefully placed it into her bag. 

“as my wonderful girlfriend said, just a delightful surprise.” max quoted pietra, shutting the driver’s side door. 

she grumbled something in response, walking around toward the boot of the audi, intending on hauling her suitcase out of the vehicle – but it was short-lived, because the subject of her worries stepped out of the front door with a wide grin on his face.

“hey lovebirds.” lando chimed, skipping down the front steps like the child he was – and not quite noticing the other girl stood behind the car. 

the driver gave the pair a quick hug, “how was your drive?”

“lily wouldn’t stop stressing out about the fact that you didn’t know she was coming.” max blurted, making his sister poke her head out from the rear of the audi.

“hi lando.” she waved with a small, sheepish smile. 

if he wasn’t already smiling, he was practically beaming now. lando’s features softened and lit up at the same time, and he laughed softly, quickly heading toward her. 

“hi lala.” the mclaren driver said quietly, casually embracing the girl as if he’d been waiting for this day – his hoodie smelled like cedarwood and lemon, and it assaulted her senses like a homely candle. “how’ve you been?”

“i’ve been good, thankyou.” she smiled. “you?”

“never better,” lando nodded, gaze flitting over her features as he spoke. “let me get your stuff.”

“it’s okay–” she was cut off by lando easily picking her bag up. “thankyou. you’re sure you don’t mind me crashing here for the weekend?”

“are you kidding?” the brit laughed, “you’ve just improved the guestlist.”

pietra looked at max, raising her eyebrows in that same way she always did, earning an eye roll from her boyfriend. the couple (code for max) grabbed their bags, and then the two of them headed into the house. 

“come on, you can pick your room.” lando nodded, reaching up and closing the boot, before gesturing for her to follow him into the large building.

inside, the house was as chaotic as she’d remembered, but in a more, subtle, i’m an adult now, way. the shoe-shelf by the door was dishevelled to say the least – all of his most-used shoes were on there, just randomised and not in pairs at all. her shoes actually looked out of place, paired neatly and placed next to the strangely organised rack. there were a few pillows on the bottom of the staircase, with an untouched basket of clean washing next to the bannister.

pietra was flopped on the couch like it was her own, with max complaining about having no space and trying to find something to watch on the ridiculously large tv.

“so why’d you end up coming?” lando asked as he carried lily’s suitcase up the stairs. “not that i’m unhappy you’re here.”

“the book launch i was going to got cancelled.” she explained with a shrug of her shoulders. “i wasn’t really looking forward to it anyway. they sent me an early release, didn’t bother to read it.”

“brutal.” the driver laughed, glancing back at her briefly.

“honestly?” lily continued. “i wasn’t in the mood to be charming to strangers.”

“and you are now?” lando queried as they entered the spare room next to his. 

“you’re not a stranger, and define charming.” she laughed.

“exactly what you’re doing now.” he replied coolly, his gaze trained on her for a little too long.

“lando, why do you have four tubs of peanut butter and no bread?” max yelled up the stairs. 

“they substituted my nutella and i forgot about bread.” lando groaned, turning to shout.

“still the same.” she chuckled.

“i’m evolving, slowly.”

“i noticed,” she teased. “you used to live on toast and protein bars.”

“bagels and protein shakes now, i’ve upgraded. very adult.”

“impressive.”

their eyes locked again, and for a second, the faint noise of max and pietra chatting downstairs faded to silence. it was the kind of moment lily had always brushed past before – innocent enough to ignore, but heavy enough to remember. she looked away first, thanking him for carrying her bags and letting her stay.

“you’re always welcome here, lala.”

• • • •

BY TEN O’CLOCK, max was flat out on the sofa after a debate about which premier league team had the best looking players, and pietra had rolled her eyes at her boyfriend so many times she was sure they were going to get stuck there. pietra retired to the other guest bedroom, and lando bidded the younger fewtrell goodnight, before she herself slipped away to her room, the soft click of the door punctuating the quietness of the house.

she wasn’t tired.

restless was a better way to describe her demeanour, the kind of restlessness that came from a long day of travel, too many not quite finished thoughts, and the underlying buzz of something unspoken. maybe it was lando’s nostalgic warmth, maybe it was the glance she caught between max and pietra when lando greeted her, as if they knew something lily didn’t.

she wouldn’t call what happened sleep, moreso closing her eyes for a couple hours and pretending too. so, at five o’clock in the morning, the pull of alertness won, dragging her out of bed and quietly downstairs to the kitchen. 

she padded down the stairs in her hoodie and shorts, expecting silence – but the kitchen light was on, but dimmed.

pietra sat at the counter, sipping from a ceramic mug, her body angled toward the sliding glass doors. outside, the early morning sky stretched wide and pale, clouds tinged with gold and papaya.

“oh, morning.” lily grumbled, not sure if she was pleasantly surprised by the lack of solitude or not. “how come you’re up?”

“not really that tired.” pietra shrugged, sighing softly as she sipped more of her coffee. “how are you and harry doing?”

“yeah, we’re okay, i guess.” lily said, sounding slightly unamused. “we’re just casual, you know?”

“you deserve something that isn’t casual.” she responded. “and look i know it might be a bit random to you, but have you considered lando?”

she laughed, quiet and a little shook. “lando? no way, he’s max’s best mate.”

“but he’s so sweet to you, not like he is with anyone else.”

“he’s nice to everyone.” she brushed it off, like she always did.

“you’re allowed to like someone who’s good for you, you know? no matter who they are.”

she was about to reply, consider pietra’s suggestion, when the pad of heavier footsteps interrupted her train of thought. “oh, good morning.” lando yawned.

“morning lan.” lily smiled, the nickname slipping off of her tongue. 

“morning lando.” pietra replied, glancing at the man. 

he was in the navy quadrant hoodie, looking too soft to be real, hood pulled up and curls sticking out everywhere. on his legs were a light grey pair of shorts, with some matching navy socks on his feet. he looked pliant, adorable even. 

the three of them sat in comfortable silence, lando knowingly sliding a hot cup of tea, with two sugars and a splash of milk, over to lily wordlessly, earning an appreciative smile from her. he hopped up onto the counter next to her, watching the sunrise with the two girls. lily watched a bird land on the balcony fence, wings sharp against the morning blush – admiring the way it could freely come and go whenever it wanted.

“you remembered,” lily smiled after swallowing a mouthful of the warm beverage. “my tea, that is.”

“i have a good memory.” the driver smiled, gently nudging her shoulder with his own. “two sugars with an obscenely small amount of milk.”

she laughed, quiet and real, glancing at him and noticing the faint traces of sleep on his face, in the forms of shallow lines and dishevelled eyelashes. his curls looked ridiculously soft, and when he ruffled them after taking his hood down, she briefly appreciated the beauty of his new hair. 

the way he leaned a little closer to her when she smiled didn’t go unnoticed, instead reluctantly swept away from her mind like the rest of the thoughts he brought with him.

• • • •

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, lily was sat on a deck chair on the patio, nearing the end of the first book in the trilogy. she was so deep into the plotline that she didn’t notice lando creeping up behind her until it was too late. 

when his hands squeezed her shoulders abruptly, she slammed the book shut and pulled on one of the pages near the end – tearing the paper almost clean out. she quietly noticed, he didn’t.

“lando!” she groaned, gently thumping him on the head with the paperback. 

“you ready for my cooking, miss fewtrell?” he asked, hands still on her shoulders, softly holding and rubbing his thumbs over them now. 

“call the fire brigade now.”

“hey! that was one time.” he laughed, resting his chin on top of her head and looking down at her book. “what’cha reading?”

“something you’re clearly too illiterate to read the title of.” she deadpanned, putting the book under her chair and going to get up.

he laughed, genuine and real, for the first time in a while. “so rude – i’ll make you sleep on the drive.”

“who would keep your ego in check then?” lily shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows with a teasing laugh.

a couple hours later, the group were full and max was pretty sure he had chronic indigestion from trying to see how many chips he could eat in thirty seconds. 

lando was out on the deck, making sure he hadn’t left anything out there, when he spotted the white and red book underneath a patio chair. en-route back to the house, the driver flicked through a few pages, his gaze immediately landing on the ripped page near the back – and he quickly realised that he was at fault for it. he didn’t say anything when he handed the book back to her, not yet.

• • • •

MONDAY MORNING came around too quickly, and lando left before the other three did, having to head out early to japan early for some media stuff. he’d hugged her, longer than he did the other two, even whispered a sweet ‘see you soon, lala’ in her ear as he’d pulled away.

she wasn’t actually sure when he’d done it, she’d been with him practically the entire weekend. but when she’d returned to the room she was staying in, with the intention of packing up her stuff – there was a neatly wrapped and strangely-shaped package on the foot of the double bed, clad in brown paper with a small white bow on the top left corner. 

‘sorry about the book. and sorry i didn’t scare max instead. had some help from p too - L’

lily stood there for a few minutes after unwrapping the entire holly jackson series, heart swelling, and the scent of the perfume she’d been wanting but couldn't get curling around her like a spritzed embrace.

outside the window, the wind brushed the trees.

and somewhere deep in her soul, something had begun to change.

════════════════════════

taglist: @verogonewild @tvdtw4ever @shawnscurlz @f1fantasys @hescrush @stonesylove @irisesinthegarden @unfuckwitabella @mayax2o07 @curlylando

i do not give permission for my works to be re-written, re-published, or published on any other platform.

© norrisjpg 2025

[ravcnism]

Would you also maybe be able to write a bob reynolds x m!reader (obviously) where the reader is the bottom/sub? 🫶

NIGHT SHIFT. — BOB REYNOLDS x Male!READER (NSFW.) MNDI.

Summary: It’s almost 3 AM, you’re half-asleep, and Bob is bleeding at your door again—with a cut that barely needs tending. But when you let him in, it’s not just stitches he wants. One kiss turns into a blur of hands and heat.

## TAGS: Nurse!Reader, Pre-established relationship, Eventual Smut, Patching the other up, Top!Bob, Bottom!Reader, AMAB reader, Bob has a praise kink.

## WARNINGS: Mature language, Smut with some plot, Minor mentions of injury

Note: Felt a little unsure about this, but I did my best! I'm just gonna post it and forget I wrote it because I am genuinely so unsatisfied,,

The knock on your door wasn't urgent. It wasn't the kind of knock that spiked adrenaline into your chest, or sent your heart hammering a mile a minute. It was small, and hesitant, as though it was apologizing. You'd always been a light sleeper, but the sound had been so gentle that it took another try to finally pry you from your unconscious state.

You cracked one eye open, blinking blearily at the red glow of your bedside clock. 2:41 AM.

There was another knock. Then a pause, like thinking. Then a thump, the shifting of someone's feet. You groaned into your pillow before forcing yourself upright. Your blanket fell from your shoulders as you swung your legs over the side of the bed. You padded barefoot to the door and pulled it open.

Bob stood in the hallway, shirt slightly torn, his arm cradled to his side. Blood smeared his sleeve—not enough to snap you awake, but enough to make a mess. His hair was damp with sweat, curls clinging to his forehead. He looked almost entirely too large for the hallway, eyes gleaming like a dog caught in the rain. He had a sweet look on his face, that soft, hesitant smile. He opened his mouth to greet you, but quickly closed it upon realizing that he had woken you from what looked to be a very deep slumber.

“What do you want,” you mumbled, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes. It wasn't mean or dismissive, but clearly annoyed. And rightfully so.

Despite the dark, you got a better look at his injury. You looked up at him and sighed.

Bob shrugged. “Got caught in some shrapnel.”

“You know we've got other nurses in the med bay, right?”

He winced a little, his eyes flickering to the floor. “I-I wanted you.”

You melted in the invisible way that you did whenever he said such things.

Bob pressed his lips together. He let a beat pass, and then he lifted his arm slightly. The gash wasn’t deep, but it was raw and ugly-looking, red blooming through the gauze like a sunset. “I don't think it's that bad. I didn’t wanna bother anyone.”

“Oh, but my door was wide open, huh?” You scrubbed a hand over your face, forcing yourself to wake up entirely. You stepped aside, urging him in. “Sit. Bed. Now.”

He obeyed without question. He shuffled in, ducked his head like he thought he might bump the doorframe (he wouldn’t), and perched on the edge of your mattress with a cautious sort of reverence. Like it was sacred ground and he was lucky to even touch it. He sat patiently, feet to the floor, eyes following you as you moved to grab your first-aid kit from the nightstand drawer.

You flicked on the bedside lamp. Warm amber light spilled over him, catching on the edge of a forming bruise at his temple, the smear of blood on his forearm, the way he looked at you like you were already halfway to saving him. He was smiling like he couldn't help it. Like this was the highlight of his day, the only reason he got out of bed. And for all you knew, it might have been.

You didn’t say anything as you knelt in front of him, grabbing his wrist gently and peeling back the soaked gauze. He hissed a little. “I've barely done anything,” you muttered, but there was no real venom behind it. Just tired affection and the ache of being forced to wake up at 2 AM after a 17 hour shift. You looked up to catch a glimpse of Bob’s lovestruck gaze.

It had been awhile since the two of you had started dating. It wasn't one big explosion of a scene, but a cluster of—moments. Soft ones, quiet ones; Bob bringing you coffee without asking, you patching him up after missions and pretending not to stare at his physique. The late-night conversations that drifted from trauma to favorite songs, the way he’d sometimes knock on your door just to sit in the same room. Falling in love was as easy as finding a steady pulse under his skin.

He saw you often, and perhaps that was the main contributor. You'd been working for Valentina for as long as you could remember, and you were among the group of doctors that nursed her ‘Sentry’ back to health. Bob had caught your attention since way back then, but it had taken all that time for you to have finally done something about it.

You worked at the med bay, tucked into the lower levels of the new Avengers Tower. Despite your medical position, your reach stretched further than the rest of the professionals in your team. Your personal comm never went silent for long. Someone always needed something: blood tests, IV drips, a dislocated shoulder snapped back into place without anesthesia because "I’m fine, really—”. You’d seen it all. Broken bones. Super-serums gone sideways. Ava Starr's caffeine-induced migraines. Yelena’s sprains. Alexei refusing a tetanus shot because he thought he was immune to "American rust.”

And then, there was Bob. The Sentry. A seemingly regular guy housing a dormant eldritch being. Your favorite headache. You were working with him a whole lot. Valentina wanted him studied, kept under surveillance. They were eager to get him going again, to wake the powers that were once there. He'd visit your clinic almost every day of the week. You'd take his charts, list his results, stare too long, conduct physical tests. You had plenty of time to get to know each other.

Eventually, they'd been bringing him along on missions. Exposure therapy, as Valentina called it. Hence the reason as to why he currently sat bleeding on your bed.

He was quiet, watching you work. He had always been satisfied just staring at you, relishing in the gentle touch of your well-trained hands. Even in your grumpy sleep-deprived state, he found you worth adoring. His lips parted slightly, an apology hanging on the edge of his tongue. He kept quiet, unsure if it would make it better or worse.

The cut wasn’t deep. Sloppy, maybe. It looked like it had been caused by shrapnel or broken glass. Nothing urgent, nothing fatal. Just enough blood to look dramatic. Just enough pain to make him seek you out. You reached for the saline without asking. He winced again when the liquid touched his raw skin.

“Ow..”

“It's healing on its own, Bob.” You wiped around the wound, crimson gathering into the cotton ball you used. “Your body does that, remember? Enhanced physiology and all that jazz. You heal faster than most, you just have to let it.”

He briefly looked away, pretending to take interest in the view outside your window. “It still hurts..”

A beat passed. For a moment, he felt as though he could hear all the noise outside. The city, still awake. Cars blearing, people talking. You sighed; a little too loud. But your hands never stopped moving. Bandage, tape, antiseptic, all of it second nature. You could do this half-asleep. You probably were half-asleep. Bob’s eyes followed every motion, like he wasn’t sure if you were stitching him up or putting him back together.

“I’m not mad,” you finally said. “Just tired.”

“I know.”

You finished the last strip of gauze, pressing it down gently, brushing your fingers across his skin in a way that didn’t need to be medical anymore. You stayed kneeling there a moment longer, head bowed slightly, his wrist still cradled in your hand. You kissed his freshly-bandaged wound. Tradition. He claimed it made every single ache go away. You called it bullshit, but there had never been an injury of his that you hadn't kissed.

“Thanks for coming to me,” you said quietly. “Even if you’re annoying about it.”

His laugh was breathy and cracked and made your chest ache in that soft kind of way.

And then he was staring too long; too deeply, too intently. You caught the look in his eyes gleaming under the lamplight. His gentle, wordless plea. The two of you grew silent enough for the tension to turn palpable.

You gave in. You rose from your knees to kiss his lips, a messy but fevered act. It felt light, and dizzying, as though you were either waking up from a dream or falling into one. You ran your tongue over his lower lip and he gasped, allowing you entry. It took little to no time for heat to pool into your stomach, gathering like some molten puddle of want. You held his shoulders and straddled his lap, feeling a growing hardness beneath you. You kissed him deeper, hungrier. He held his hand against your back, the other clinging onto your waist, holding you closer.

You were the first to pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips together. He looked up at you, dark-blue eyes dazed and half-lidded. You ran a thumb down his cheek. “I don't believe it,” you laughed. “An ulterior motive. You come in, injured, then you seduce me.”

Bob stammered a bit, his hands pulling you back again. “Didn’t… do anything,” he mumbled, breathless.

“No?” you teased, breath tickling against his lips. “Didn't you?”

He shook his head, but it was barely a gesture. It was more like a shiver rolling down his spine. His fingers dug into your hips like he was trying to anchor himself, like the warmth of your skin was the only thing keeping him tethered.

You leaned in, let your mouth ghost over his, let the air between you charge. “A full team of doctors in rotation, under night shifts, all in the med bay. And you chose to seek me out. Your boyfriend, in his bedroom.” You chuckled, darkly. “You didn't come here just to get patched up, did you?”

Bob whimpered. He dragged you into another kiss, like he couldn’t bear to be teased anymore. It was messier this time, frantic, all tongue and aching teeth, like he was trying to crawl into your mouth, into your chest. His whole body vibrated beneath you, thighs tense where they bracketed yours, breath stuttering as he kissed down your jaw, your throat, like he couldn’t decide where to land.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered, somewhere below your ear, voice shaking. “All day, it was just—just you. You in your scrubs. You chewing on that pen. That stupid laugh you did when I made that dumb joke—God, fuck.” His hips bucked up against you before he could stop himself. His breath caught like he had no control of what just happened.

You pulled back a little, just to look at him. He was wrecked, all in such little time. All because of a few words and a deep, wet kiss. His cheeks were pink, hair damp at the temples. His pupils were blown wide, so dark they almost swallowed the blue. He looked like a starved man, and you, his first meal in days. You had an inkling of an idea as to what might have been happening to him. Something told you that the inhuman amount of adrenaline that came with genetic enhancements weren't something he could always control. Something told you that it would present itself differently if it had nowhere else to go.

“Look at you,” you murmured. “You’re shaking.”

“I know,” he croaked, almost like he was ashamed of it. “I can’t—can’t stop. It’s like my body just—” He gasped as you rolled your hips down against his, and the breath punched out of him. “Please.”

That was the moment he snapped. Bob flipped you over before you could blink, hands fumbling with your waistband like he’d finally surrendered to everything he’d been holding back. His kisses grew sloppier, open-mouthed and hot, tasting every inch of skin he could reach. His whole body pressed down on you—solid, burning, trembling. “I need you,” he choked. “I need to be inside you. I need to feel you around me or I’m gonna lose my mind.”

You barely managed a nod, dazed and breathless under him. You’d never seen him like this. So undone, so needy, so determined. It had your heart hammering in your ears.

You barely got the word out before Bob was kissing you again—no rhythm, no finesse, just need. He couldn’t keep still; his hands were everywhere, trembling slightly as they shoved your shirt up, pushed your boxers down. Your cock popped out and met the cold air. You drew a breath in through clenched teeth. His mouth followed every inch of exposed skin like he was making up for lost time, leaving hot, wet kisses in his wake.

“God, you’re so warm,” he breathed, dragging his fingers down your thighs. “I’ve been thinking about this all fucking day. S'like I couldn’t breathe.” He looked at you like he was going to apologize for it. Like amidst his frantic, frenzied self, he wanted to be softer.

You tried to say something clever, something to tease—but the words melted into a moan when his fingers wrapped around your cock in a clumsy, reverent stroke. His palm was still a little rough from the bandage you’d just applied, but that didn’t stop him. If anything, it made it feel real. Like even through pain, he couldn’t not touch you. You bucked forward, hissing into his touch. You rolled your hips and relished in the feeling of his palm.

“Fuck, Bob.” Your chest rose up and down, breathing as though you couldn't.

Then he was pushing your legs up, spreading you open with a groan that sounded like it came from his bones. “Fuck, look at you,” he whispered, and you felt his fingers slide lower, teasing over your hole, already slick with your precum. He groaned again, lower this time, guttural. “You’re already—Fuck, you’re already so ready for me.”

He didn’t make you wait. One thick finger pushed in, slow but steady, and he watched you with wide, fascinated eyes as you took him. Then another. His breath hitched when your walls clenched down, when your back arched, when you whispered his name like it was the only one you knew.

“Right there,” you murmured, and he sounded almost awed. “That's it, keep going.”

You clenched again, and he laughed, nervous, wrecked, head falling forward against your knee. “Is that good?”

You groaned. “Yeah, it's fucking good.”

He felt his face heat up, his ears practically ringing. He pushed deeper, slow and careful, the pressure steady but manageable. His free hand gripped your thigh, thumb digging in, grounding himself while he opened you up. One finger became two. He worked you loose, stretching you with deliberate intent, pausing every so often to murmur something breathless, how good you felt, how perfect you were, how he couldn’t wait any longer.

“There, is that good?” he asked again, needing to hear you. Needing to get something amidst your pleasure-filled sounds. Needing to know how he made you feel.

“Yes.” Your head lolled to the side. “Yes, Bob, keep going.”

“Am I doing good?” He was breathless himself, his cock wet and throbbing under his pants. “Baby, tell me, please.”

“Yes, Bob—fuck.” Your eyes fluttered shut. “You're being good. You're being a fucking good boy. And you'll be even better when you fuck me.” Your hips jerked without meaning to.

He made a needy sound. You lifted your head up just to watch as he frantically undid his pants and shoved them down to his thighs. You used your foot to pull his soaked boxers down, revealing his pink, pulsing cock. You felt your heart leap. You looked up at him and met his glazed eyes, grinning with a hunger that no one else could satisfy. You inched yourself further up your bed and he followed, crawling over you, covering your body.

“Baby,” he whined.

“I know.” Your hand met his curls and tugged, the other braced against his shoulder. “I know, Bobby. Go ahead. Come on, fuck me.”

Bob shuddered. He lined himself up and pushed in slowly, hips shaking, both hands on your waist like he needed to hold you down or he might fall apart. You were tight. The stretch was intense, and it pulled a groan from his chest, guttural and wrecked.

“Shit, shit,” he hissed through his teeth. “You feel so good. Fuck.” His damp hair fell over your face.

He bottomed out and paused, forehead against your shoulder, chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. You could feel every inch of him pulsing inside you, twitching with restraint. Then he moved. He started slow, just enough to make you whimper, then picked up pace fast—every thrust hard, deep, slamming into you like he needed to bury something that’d been clawing at him from the inside. He was sweating, panting, swearing under his breath. Your bed creaked with the urgency of his movements.

You felt every drag, every slap of skin against skin. The way your body rocked with each snap of his hips. The way he gripped your thighs like he was afraid he’d wake up and this would be gone.

“Not gonna last,” he gasped, voice catching on a moan. “Can’t—can’t hold back—”

“Don’t,” you whispered, fingers digging into his shoulders, leaving scratch marks for him to marvel at in the morning. “Don’t hold back. You've been waiting all day, remember?”

Bob hissed. “I love you,” he whispered, voice cracking. “God, I fucking love you—”

He thrust once more, then again, rougher this time, before letting go with a loud, desperate moan. You grabbed his face, kissed him hard, swallowed the sound he made when he finally lost it—hips jerking, cock buried deep as he came with a desperate cry. You felt him spill inside you, hot and thick, his body trembling from head to toe as he gasped through it. For a moment, all you could hear was the sound of your breathing. The wet, ragged noise of two people completely undone.

Bob collapsed onto you, still inside, mouth open against your throat, whispering something low and broken you couldn’t quite make out. He was still panting against your shoulder, body flushed and trembling, but you were still hard. Flushed, throbbing, aching with need. He felt it, too. The way your cock pressed against his stomach, slick and twitching, silently begging.

“Shit,” he breathed, lifting his head to look down at you, dazed but suddenly very aware. “I didn’t—fuck, you didn’t...”

You quirked a brow, already smirking a little despite how wrecked you felt. “Yeah, no. You’re not done ‘til I’m done.”

That got a breathless laugh out of him—and then he was moving again, slipping out of you carefully before dragging himself down your body with the kind of reverence that didn’t match the filth in his eyes. His mouth hovered just above your cock, lips parted, breath hot. “I got you,” he whispered.

Then he wrapped his lips around you. No teasing. No slow build-up. He took you in, as much as he could handle, one hand wrapped around the base, the other braced against your thigh. His mouth was warm, wet, and a little sloppy from the urgency of it all. It made your spine arch right off the bed.

“Fuck—Bob, shit—”

He moaned around you like he liked hearing that, tongue swirling around the head before sinking back down again. His cheeks hollowed with every suck, and the tension that had been building all night roared right back with a vengeance. Your hand slid into his hair, fingers curling against the messy brown strands. He let you guide the rhythm, moving faster when you tugged, groaning when your hips gave an involuntary thrust. He didn’t pull back, didn’t flinch. He took it like he wanted it, and he did.

You were close. So close. Your thighs tensed, breath caught, and when your voice broke on a curse, he knew.

He moaned again, dragging his tongue along the underside just right. You came with a shudder, spilling into his mouth, gasping his name through grit teeth. Bob kept going, swallowing everything you gave him, mouth still working you through it until you were twitching from overstimulation and pushing weakly at his shoulder.

He finally pulled off with a wet gasp, licking his lips and blinking up at you like a man who’d just survived something holy.

You looked at him through the gathering tears in your eyes. You were still catching your breath when Bob settled back into the bed beside you, arm draped over your waist, his face half-buried in the crook of your neck. You could feel the smile on his lips—smug little thing—like he was proud of himself for completely ruining you and now planned to nap there like a satiated beast.

You let the silence hang for a second. Let the warmth of him settle over you like a weighted blanket. And then, you turned to him, whispering, “Put it back in.”

Bob raised his brows at you, eyes drooping like he was already half-asleep. “Hm?”

You kissed his forehead, making his nose wrinkle. “I wanna fall asleep like that. Feels nice.”

He didn't argue. And even if he did, he knew he would never deny you. He kissed your shoulder, murmured something about you being the death of him, and shifted your positions to ease himself back inside you. Slow and careful this time. The fit was perfect. Warm, full, grounding. His arms held you, anchoring you in the dark. You sighed, your back against his chest, body soft and boneless now, every ache lulled by the heavy comfort of him being right there—in you, around you, with you.

“Hey,” you called, making him hum in response. “Next time you're horny, just say that. Saves me the gauze.”

He giggled, soft and shy, burying his face further into the back of your neck. “I love you,” he mumbled against your skin.

You smiled. “I love you too.”

You didn’t fall asleep right away. Not with Bob pressed so close, his hand rested just under your ribs, rising and falling with your breath. Content. Sated. But behind you, you could still feel the occasional twitch of his hips—tiny, involuntary movements like his body hadn’t quite gotten the message that the night was over.

You stared at the ceiling, blinking slow. You made a mental note.

Enhanced genetics appear to correlate with elevated stamina. Observe: insatiable. Serial. Fucking. Needs. Suggested course of treatment: rest, hydration, and a muzzle.

You sighed. Loudly. Not that it stopped the man behind you from nosing into your hair like he hadn’t just used you as his own personal stress relief. You turned your head to look at him, his sleeping face, his perfect lashes, his perfect nose. “Yeah,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. “I love you, too.”