#those few seconds witnessed
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felassan · 8 days ago
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What kind of spirit do you think Felassan waz?
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#ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age the veilguard spoilers#<- this is my spoiler tag#dragon age: dreadwolf#dragon age 4#the dread wolf rises#da4#dragon age#bioware#video games#mjs mailbag#robotslenderman#felassan#Best Elf#no but on a serious note its a great question and one which ive been thinkin about a lot#did Felassan manifest from the Fade or was he born in the early days still but of others who had manifested before him?#and if he did manifest from the Fade what kind of spirit was he. lets say for fun for this post that#he was a spirit. I feel like there's quite a few different things that could work in that scenario#he has wit in terms of smarts & snark & whimsy. he was part of a movement that opposed tyranny and valued freedom. back then he wanted#to protect innocents. he's charismatic and good w/ people. he was a loyal friend to solas and later on was loyal to briala. he's calm and#level-headed. steady. a slow arrow makes its way to its target/goal slowly but steadily and you dont see it coming#Wit.. Loyalty.. Friendship.. Freedom.. Steadfastness.. Charm.. Protection.. Resolve.. Duty#my personal hc atm tho is- if he was- Guidance ◕‿◕. “'I kindled nothing' Felassan said. [...] 'I merely offered guidance.'"#he spent the rebellion guiding an army as a General and giving Solas guidance on how to be a good leader interact w/ people be the face#of a rebellion and to stay on the right path as one of his advisors. later he was Briala's hahren/elder giving her guidance through TME#he signs codexes like ask for the slow arrow and i will help/guide you. he was looking after those of flesh and fade in the lighthouse#guidance can be given from both a second-in-command (subordinate) role and from a superior (elder to mentee) role#when we see him in a memory Solas welcomes the spirits in elven then says “lasa ghilan” which means grant/give guidance#and the very next thing that happens is that Felassan speaks. an Arrow gives direction. it POINTS THE WAY..
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stephenrea · 10 months ago
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WHO UP BEEFING WITH THE NEVERS WARRIORS IN 2024.
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blackjackkent · 1 year ago
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We enter the Forest Clearing in search of our final relic, and it is uh. Small.
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This is apparently the whole map. Wonder what could possibly be taking up the little tiny dark place to the bottom left?
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...Oh. I see. o.o
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Caden has encountered more than his share of dragons in his travels. And he has found them a terrifying experience, by and large. There is something utterly otherworldly about them, a force of personality that goes beyond anything else he has ever known. And despite the lizard-like features, they communicate their emotions, their intentions, as clearly as any human face has ever done.
Adalon, the silver dragon in the depths of the Underdark, radiated a sense of implacable calm purpose and protection. Firkraag, the red dragon of Windspear, though opposite in intention was equally easy to understand in the end - rage and vengeance, but a cunning sort, careful and sly.
This black dragon is a chromatic like Firkraag, but its expression carries nothing of the red dragon's poise and guile. It radiates brutality; it moves as a shadow among shadows in the ever-shifting light of the forest, and its narrowed eyes look at Caden with unabashed hunger. In a moment it would be willing to leap forward, to tear them apart and feast at its leisure.
Caden tilts his head slowly to one side, considering possible responses to this, but Imoen gives him a sharp poke in the side and steps forward instead. Her expression in that moment is oddly reminiscent of Firkraag's in fact - cunning, some sudden trick playing out behind her eyes.
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The others look at her with some alarm. Does she mean to try to trick this creature? To play upon its ego?
The dragon rears up on its hind legs and snorts a great burst of fire into the air, staring down at her with fury.
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The dragon hesitates, dips its head a little closer to Imoen, staring her down through eyes narrowed to slits. A low growl rumbles in its throat. They can all feel its breath as a hot, damp wind in their faces.
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Imoen spreads her hands to the sides and offers the dragon her most winning smile. It draws back, seemingly bemused by this confident approach, and for a moment almost seems to consider the idea sincerely. Then its expression shifts in some unidentifiable way, becoming clear as a cold smirk.
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Before any of them can respond, it opens its mouth and releases a stream of flame, sending them all diving for cover.
"Well," Imoen mutters, fumbling for her bow as she crashes behind a nearby rock. "That didn't work."
"And we say Caden is bad at diplomacy," Jaheira calls sardonically, sending a blast of magical light into the dragon's black hide.
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queensparklekitten · 5 months ago
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btw did i ever tell you guys cupcake jones has recently resumed her mousing side gig
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poke-me-with-a-stick · 1 month ago
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What if Danny learned the trick Pariah Dark used to pull Amity into the ghost zone and, with a little practice, uses it to transport GIW facilities into the ghost zone.
Like, to everyone else, it looks like a green dome appears around a building, then suddenly the building is gone and leaves a large crater in the ground. Only for it to appear again moments later, completely intact except for a few plastic burns and a bunch of disoriented government agents who can only ramble about green sky's and an ambush of enemies that had surrounded them within seconds.
Meanwhile, Danny just keeps transporting the facilities into the middle of an ambush of angry ghosts, empties the building of any ghostly captives and any notes taken on those ghosts, let's the angry spirits rough the humans up a bit, and then returns them like nothing happened.
You could have this as a crossover where the heros get involved, only for them to be dragged into the realms as well. They get to witness all of this, but nobody dies, and there is a strange glowing boy that seems to avoid all the conflict and appears to be either stealing or freeing captives that they didn't know were there in the first place!
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brunchable · 1 month ago
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𝗠𝘆 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿
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Pairings: PornStar!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Sexual Innuendo/humour,Guy next door, situational comedy? If you're not up for a few second-hand embarrassment sit this one out lol. Summary: Your coworker peer pressured you to look up SergeantBarnes in Pornhub, reason? Because apparently you're missing out. A/N: This would make a good mini series. . .but we'll see. I had a dream. . .that he was a guy next door, just wanted to-of course-add a twist to it asdfghjkl.
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It was all Amy’s fault. And Trish’s. And okay, maybe you shared a little bit of the blame for caving to the intense peer pressure at work. But still.
You’d been minding your own business in the break room, scrolling through lunch menus, when Amy had sidled up, leaned in with that conspiratorial look on her face, and whispered, “Have you seen him yet?”
“Seen who?” your eyebrows creased as you asked, confused.
Trish popped up out of nowhere, clutching her latte in her hand. “Girl, SeargentBarnes. The guy is legendary—I mean, a literal internet icon.”
You shrugged, feigning indifference while they exchanged a look that practically screamed, amateur. They started talking all at once, dropping cryptic phrases like “too hot to handle,” “you’re gonna die,” and, “you’ll never look at men the same way again.”
So there you were that night, alone with your laptop, curled up in bed and biting your lip as you debated whether to type it in. It’s just curiosity, you reasoned. Research purposes.
Your eyes widened as the screen filled with… well, humanity, in all its naked, unfiltered glory. Your face heated up so fast you could’ve sworn it was the same shade as your throw pillow. Videos lined up like some weird buffet, titles more scandalous than anything you’d ever whispered in confession, and… was that a whole category devoted to delivery men? You slapped a hand over your mouth to stop from yelping, mortified at the intensity of it all. 
“I need to go to church after this,” you muttered, squinting like that would somehow censor the thorough dedication people were showing in their, uh, procreation endeavors.
“SergeantBarnes,” you muttered to yourself as you typed, fingers hovering uncertainly over the Enter key. Then, with a sigh, you hit search, and… oh.
You nearly choked on oxygen. Because there he was, in HD glory, right on Pornhub, with that cocky grin and those blue eyes that looked like they’d been crafted in a lab. And he wasn’t just standing there looking smug—oh, no, he was on a mission, shirtless, flexing, and smirking at the camera like he was the world’s best-kept secret. The scene panned to him sitting on the edge of a bed, peeling off his belt with one hand, a glint in his eyes that seemed to say, this is what you came for.
“Oh my god,” you muttered, equal parts horrified and morbidly fascinated, as he proceeded to… well, get very familiar with his costar. SergeantBarnes was apparently an expert at multitasking, using every muscle, every inch of his well-equipped arsenal. And the way he was delivering lines? He was clearly treating the camera like it was his soulmate.
By minute two, your jaw had dropped. By minute five, you’d set the laptop on your nightstand to “watch responsibly.” By minute ten, you were convinced Amy and Trish had permanently ruined your life.
And the costar—she was practically putting on an Oscar-worthy performance, her reactions so intense you half expected her to start speaking in tongues. Every time SergeantBarnes’s… rod of justice plunges deep inside, she gasps like she was witnessing a miracle. You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Come on, is that really necessary?
As you watched, he gave a low, rumbling sound—half growl, half sigh—that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. His gaze burned through the screen with a confidence that was practically magnetic, and suddenly, you understood exactly why the costar was gasping. A new, unbidden heat pooled between your legs, making you shift uncomfortably, instinctively pressing your thighs together as if that could somehow stop the flush creeping up your face. Oh no, now I wish I were her, you thought, immediately cringing at yourself.
With a mix of half-laughter and half-horror, you reached over and slammed the laptop shut so fast it was like you were trying to save yourself from spontaneous combustion. 
“Holy—oh, wow,” you whispered, pressing a hand to your face. “Okay. That was a one-time thing.”
Or so you thought.
Except now, every time you even glanced at your laptop, SergeantBarnes was right there in your mind, reminding you exactly why he was internet-famous. It was becoming a bit of a problem.
× × × ×
The next morning, you stumbled out of your apartment, looking like something that had been left out in the rain and dragged through a blender, mentally cursing last night’s “research” session. The world had no right to be this bright, and your regret levels were at an all-time high as you lugged the world’s heaviest box down the hallway.
You were so absorbed in avoiding a complete breakdown that you barely registered the deep, too-familiar voice beside you.
“Need help with that?”
“Thanks, but I got it,” you muttered automatically, barely sparing him a glance.
Except...then you did.
You looked up, squinting in confusion. Because, standing in front of you, in the perfectly mundane hallway of your perfectly mundane building, was him.
You froze, your brain spinning like a buffering screen. Okay, this guy’s insanely handsome. Tall, broad-shouldered, stubbled jaw, eyes so blue they should have a health warning on them. You stared, mentally cataloging each feature, when—wait a minute... WAIT. A. MINUTE.
Your eyes narrowed, suspicion prickling as your brain finally fired up. Is that…? No, it can’t be.
But it was. Oh, it absolutely was. 
SergeantBarnes, the very star of last night’s “educational” viewing, right here in the flesh. And suddenly, like a tractor beam had locked onto you, your gaze dropped right to his crotch, where you’d witnessed things you could never un-see.
This, of course, did not go unnoticed. His brows shot up as he followed your very obvious, very treacherous line of sight, glancing down at his jeans before looking back up at you with an infuriatingly smug grin.
“Uh… nice shoes?” you blurted out, your face feeling like it was on fire. You vaguely gestured to his boots, wishing you could vanish right into the walls.
“Thanks,” he replied smoothly, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “They’re pretty sturdy. But, you know…” He paused, his voice dropping just a hair. “I don’t think they’re what you were looking at.”
Your heart sank as you forced yourself to look up, his amused blue eyes practically laughing at you. Abort. Abort mission. Oh God, we are way past mission failure.
“Uh—no, I just… um…” You floundered, desperately trying to think of something, anything, that might save you from the hole you’d dug. But no words came. Not even the faintest semblance of a coherent thought. Just one long, silent scream echoing in your brain.
“Bucky,” he offered helpfully, sticking out his hand like he wasn’t SergeantBarnes from Pornhub, but just some guy offering to help with a box. “New neighbor, by the way.”
You stared at his hand like it was a booby trap, your brain short-circuiting as it reminded you exactly where those fingers had been. That hand had gripped… things. It had been places you’d only dreamed of, doing things you’d probably need a core workout just to survive. You could practically see the “viewer discretion advised” warning flashing in your head as you hesitated, still staring at his hand as if it might explode.
But, against your better judgment—and every shred of dignity—you slowly reached out and shook it, feeling your own fingers betray you by sweating as they made contact with his very… experienced ones.
“Uh… hi… I’m… yep.” you blurted, mentally cringing.
“‘Yep’? That’s a good name,” he said, smirking as he let go. “You sure you don’t need help? You seem… a little flustered.”
Flustered? Understatement of the century. If your dignity had been a cup, it was empty, bone-dry, and cracked. You forced yourself to focus, eyes straight forward, pointedly ignoring the very tempting crotch-level view. 
“I’m fine! Totally fine!” you squeaked, cringing at your own voice. Oh God, calm down!
But he just chuckled, that same dangerously cocky smile from last night plastered all over his face. “Alright, Yep. Guess I’ll see you around.”
As he turned to leave, you stood there in the hallway, clutching the box like it was a life raft, heart racing a mile a minute. You’d just had a very public staring incident with SergeantBarnes, your new neighbor, and all you’d managed to say was nice shoes.
I’m gonna need new coworkers, you thought, practically burying your face in the box as you scurried to your apartment.
The door slammed shut with a bang that could probably be heard across state lines. You dropped the box unceremoniously, ignoring the loud thunk as it hit the floor, and whipped your phone out, fingers flying across the screen like you were composing a manifesto.
Guys, you’re NEVER gonna guess who my neighbor is—
You paused, staring at the screen as the rest of the text formed in your mind: THE SergeantBarnes. LIVE. IN. THE. FLESH.
But then another thought stopped you dead in your tracks. Oh no.
You could already picture it: Amy and Trish showing up like rabid fangirls in their “I Heart SergeantBarnes” merch, carrying suspiciously flimsy plates of brownies. Trish would have binoculars. Amy would be taking notes, probably trying to “accidentally” leave her phone number under his door. You shuddered, imagining them cornering him by the mailboxes, all of them acting like they were definitely not the type of women who had his entire catalog bookmarked on their phones.
A horrible realization hit you. If I tell them, this man’s gonna be living a nightmare right next door to me. Not just a nightmare, a Trish-and-Amy-sponsored fan club nightmare, where they might even break into song—probably chanting, “SergeantBarnes! SergeantBarnes!” while he tries to get his groceries.
You looked back at your unsent message and deleted it in one go, feeling weirdly proud of yourself. Yeah, no. I’m not letting them anywhere near him.
Totally altruistic, of course. It had nothing to do with keeping the eye candy to yourself.
You took a deep breath, looking around your empty apartment like you were expecting the FBI to burst through the door at any second. Sure, you’d just been in the hallway with the actual SergeantBarnes, but maybe… maybe you were imagining things. It had been a long day. Moving was stressful. Stranger things had happened, right?
With a surge of resolve (and denial), you dashed to your bedroom, practically sliding across the floor as you went. Your laptop was waiting innocently on the nightstand, and with a quick glance over your shoulder to ensure you were still alone, you opened it up, clicked incognito mode like you were hiding state secrets, and went straight to the website you’d sworn off only hours ago.
“Alright… just to confirm,” you muttered to yourself, feeling your cheeks burn as you typed SergeantBarnes into the search bar, mentally bracing yourself for the flood of results.
And there he was. The whole page filled with him, in various… positions. You swallowed, scrolling until one video caught your eye: “Sergeant Disciplines the Bratty Recruit.”
You snorted, almost slamming the laptop shut. “Oh, for heaven’s sake…”
But curiosity was a dangerous beast, and before you could talk yourself out of it, your finger had already clicked play.
The video started, with SergeantBarnes in all his glory, wearing what looked like the world’s tightest military uniform. His face was as smug as ever, that telltale glint of mischief in his eyes as he muttered something absurd like, “Think you can handle me, recruit?”
“Oh my god,” you whispered, cringing as you half-covered your eyes but peeked through your fingers anyway.
But there was no denying it—the face, the voice, the ridiculous, smoldering look into the camera. There was no escaping it now. It was 100% him. The same guy who was now living approximately ten feet away from your own front door.
As the video continued, your disbelief only grew. This man… this man is next door, could eating cereal right now, you thought, torn between horrified fascination and the urge to laugh. Because there he was, in full “disciplinary action” mode, doing things you could barely process, and here you were, watching it again, just to make sure it was really him.
“Oh, I’m doomed,” you muttered, slapping the laptop shut. You weren’t even sure if you were embarrassed, impressed, or maybe just a little terrified of your own neighbor.
× × × ×
Over the next few days, it was like living in a twisted sitcom. Everywhere you went, he was there, lurking like some kind of sexy, mildly inconvenient specter. It was uncanny. You’d turn a corner, and bam—there he’d be, giving you that polite nod and a smirk that clearly said, I know exactly what you’ve seen.
It started small. You’d step into the elevator, praying for a peaceful ride, and ding! in he’d stroll, flashing that devastating grin. Instantly, you’d stiffen, gluing yourself to the opposite wall, practically trying to meld with the buttons, heart pounding like you were about to pass out. You couldn’t even look him in the eye without flashes of his, uh, “filmography” playing in your mind. Every single time, without fail, you found yourself studying the very clean floor of the elevator as he leaned casually against the wall, the corners of his mouth tugging up.
“Nice day, isn’t it?” he’d ask, all smooth, innocent charm. Meanwhile, you were there like, Oh, totally, perfect day to run into my favorite Pornhub star.
You were in the laundry room, blissfully alone, humming to yourself as you separated your clothes like a responsible adult. Whites here, colors there, delicates—well, you were kind of just tossing them wherever at this point. Then, suddenly, you felt it: a shift in the air, a presence. You froze, the hair on the back of your neck standing up, a sock suspended mid-toss in your hand. Why do I feel like the music should be getting dramatic right about now?
Slowly, as if sensing his approach, you turned. And there he was—Bucky, striding in with a laundry basket filled with a suspiciously pristine pile of perfectly folded, incredibly manly clothing. It was as if he’d just stepped out of some kind of… laundry commercial. Or worse… one of his own videos.
You blinked, eyes widening as a thousand clichés suddenly flashed through your mind. Oh no, why does this feel like the start of a porn? you thought, biting your lip as you realized the two of you were, in fact, very alone, surrounded by washing machines and suspiciously warm lighting. You mentally kicked yourself. Snap out of it! This is laundry. Regular, boring laundry.
Bucky caught your eye, giving you an amused once-over. “Doing some laundry?” he asked, his voice low and casual, but somehow it felt like the most suggestive question in the world.
You opened your mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Uh-huh,” you managed, trying to sound like a normal human being. “Just, uh… laundry.”
Your face felt like it was on fire as you realized half of your load was underwear, strewn everywhere. Panties, bras, socks—they were all there in their mismatched glory, practically screaming, We’re personal items! Pay extra attention! You yanked your gaze away from the pile, mortified, and flung the sock into the washer like you were trying to disarm a bomb.
You slammed the washer lid down, feeling like you’d just revealed way too much. But Bucky only grinned, strolling over with that maddening swagger. He tossed a shirt into the washer beside you, leaning against it with a smirk.
“Nice sorting skills,” he commented, eyes flicking down to the very obvious pile of bras and lace that you’d tried to hide. “Very… thorough.”
“Yep!” you squeaked, feeling like you might explode. You fumbled with the detergent bottle, struggling to open it as your brain went into full-blown panic mode. Why does this feel like one of those videos? Don’t look at him. Just don’t look. Pretend you’re alone. Pretend this is fine.
But of course, he wasn’t making it any easier. He folded his arms, watching you with a raised brow, the picture of calm while you were desperately trying to load underwear without dying of embarrassment. 
“You know,” he said, clearly holding back a laugh, “usually people try to separate colors from whites.”
“Oh, I do! I mean, I… it’s a system,” you stammered, feeling like you were caught in a lie by the laundry police. “Sometimes it’s… it’s an artistic choice.”
He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with that insufferable amusement. “Artistic laundry, huh? Didn’t take you for the experimental type.”
“Yep,” you said, forcing a laugh as you stuffed in the last sock, your hands moving at lightning speed, desperate to finish and escape.
But as you turned to leave, he held up a stray bra that had somehow escaped your grasp, dangling it between two fingers with a raised eyebrow. 
“You forgot this,” he said, voice dripping with that same mischievous humor.
You stared at the bra in horror, feeling your face go molten. 
“Uh… thanks,” you mumbled, practically ripping it out of his hand and stuffing it into the washer, slamming the lid down one last time before you spun on your heel and speed-walked out of there.
Behind you, you heard him chuckle softly, his voice echoing in the hallway. “See you around, neighbor.”
Yep, you thought, already halfway down the hall, never doing laundry again.
By day three, it got ridiculous. You’d ducked into the mailroom, hoping he was out doing normal human things—maybe mowing a lawn or whatever. But no, as soon as you opened your mailbox, there he was, standing by his own, sorting through a stack of letters. You froze, briefly considering whether you could just flee and come back later for your electric bill.
And then… the grocery bag incident.
You were in the hallway, arms overloaded with bags because, naturally, you’d ignored the cart right by the entrance and had instead decided to carry it all in one go. You were so close to your door when you heard footsteps behind you.
“Need help?” he asked, that voice making you nearly fumble every bag in your arms.
You turned, scrambling to say, “No, I’m good,” but of course, in your panic, one of your bags tipped, and a lone, horrifying item fell out and hit the floor. You watched, paralyzed, as the little bottle of lube rolled out with an audible clatter, spinning lazily to a stop right in front of him.
You could practically feel the heat exploding from your cheeks. No. Oh no. Not like this.
You looked up, meeting his amused, slightly raised eyebrows as his lips twitched, clearly fighting a smile. 
“Uh,” you choked out, unable to form a single coherent sentence. Think fast, make it sound normal, you told yourself, even though every possible explanation was racing out of your head.
He bent down, picking up the bottle with a glint of pure mischief in his eyes, inspecting it like he’d just found evidence of some grand crime.
“Hey, everyone’s got needs,” he said, deadpan, but that twinkle in his eye was anything but innocent. “Don’t worry.” He tossed you a wink, handing the bottle back like it was no big deal.
Your mouth opened, then closed, then opened again as your brain scrambled to form a sentence. Finally, the words tumbled out like a train wreck, your dignity left somewhere back at the grocery store.
“It’s… it’s for my friend,” you squeaked, clutching the lube bottle with both hands like it was a sacred artifact. He raised an eyebrow, looking entirely too entertained for your liking. “She’s, uh, she’s constipated.”
A moment of silence.
“She needs it to… you know, help with a suppository.” You forced a grin that you were sure looked more like a grimace. “She, uh… can’t get things moving. Really jammed up in there.”
Bucky’s face twisted in barely suppressed laughter, and his shoulders shook as he struggled to keep a straight face. 
“Right,” he drawled, nodding with an expression that was one part pity and two parts are you for real? “That’s… thoughtful of you.”
You felt like you were overheating, a human furnace on the verge of combustion. 
“She’s desperate!” you blurted, doubling down on your ridiculous story, even though every fiber of your being was screaming to stop talking. “I’m just being a good friend, you know? Supportive. I mean, she’s the one who’s backed up.”
He nodded again, still fighting a smile, the look in his eyes a mix of amusement and something else that made your pulse race. 
“Sure,” he said, “nothing like helping a friend in need.” He paused, that wicked smile growing as he added, “In my experience, though, there are plenty of other uses for it.”
Your soul left your body.
He held out his hands in mock innocence, chuckling as your eyes widened to saucers. 
“Just saying,” he winked. “Versatile stuff.” 
And with that, he turned, strolling down the hall with a casual wave, leaving you frozen and mortified, clutching the bottle to your chest like a lifeline.
“Gotta… go,” you managed, voice barely a whisper, stumbling the last few steps to your door as you fumbled with the keys, practically falling inside.
The second the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it, staring at the ceiling and whispering, “I’m never leaving my apartment again.”
Just as you were about to bury your face in your hands and live in the sweet, silent embrace of shame, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out, still reeling from the lube disaster, and saw a text from your friend, Clara.
Clara: Hey!! Did you get the lube?? Need it ASAP, things are… not moving over here, if you catch my drift.
You groaned, staring at the message, letting it sink in that yes, this entire disaster had been real. 
You: Yes. Got it. Never speaking of this again.
Clara: Bless you, you lifesaver. My digestive system owes you a standing ovation.
You rolled your eyes, still red-faced. Clara had no idea you’d just had to explain the entire situation to your painfully attractive neighbor—who now likely thought you were a walking sitcom.
× × × ×
It started subtly—just a little teasing, or so you thought. But it quickly spiraled into a game you could only describe as Bucky Barnes: Merciless Teasing—Extended Cut. Every time you crossed paths, he managed to twist the knife just a little deeper, making you sweat, stumble, and practically choke on your own words.
The first time it happened, you were hauling a huge box out of your car, trying to look capable and independent, when he strolled up beside you, leaning against the car with a smirk.
“You act like I’m a celebrity,” he said, eyebrow cocked. “Every time you see me, you look ready to run.”
You fumbled, nearly dropping the box. 
“Nope! I’m just…uh, busy!” you squeaked, scrambling to walk away at top speed, box clutched to your chest like a shield. But you caught his laugh as you rushed off, making you want to evaporate on the spot.
The next time, you were in the stairwell, headphones in, desperately trying to avoid any more awkward run-ins. Naturally, the moment you looked up, there he was, lounging at the landing like some kind of paid actor in a commercial. You froze mid-step as he raised a brow.
“Look at that,” he said, giving you the once-over, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost every time you see me. Is it something I did?”
You stammered, turning pink. 
“No! Just, uh… headphones! Music! Loud music!” you blurted, before speed-walking up the stairs, praying he didn’t hear the Spice Girls song you’d been blasting. Behind you, his chuckle echoed up the stairwell like the final taunt of a villain.
But the absolute worst came at the coffee shop.
You were in line, looking at your phone, hoping you could just breeze in and out. The moment you placed your order and turned to leave, there he was, standing right behind you, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“Hey, neighbor,” he drawled, eyeing your coffee cup like it was some incriminating evidence. “Funny running into you here. Or… do you keep running into me?”
Your face flushed, and you tried to think of something clever, but it was like all your brain cells had gone on vacation. 
“Nope! Definitely just getting coffee! I don’t even… live near here!” you babbled, immediately regretting everything.
“Oh, interesting,” he replied, his grin widening. “Because I could swear you live right next door. But hey, if you want to keep pretending you don’t know me, I’ll go along with it.” He handed you your coffee with a wink. “See you around… or not.”
But things took a turn for the mortifying when, one evening, you were pacing the hallway on the phone with Clara, trying to vent without actually collapsing in a pile of awkwardness.
“It’s him, Clara!” you hissed, oblivious to the fact that you were pacing right outside Bucky’s door. “I’m living next door to SergeantBarnes! Can you believe this? I’ve seen everything he has to offer! I’ve practically studied him!”
Clara was howling with laughter, but you were too wrapped up in your frustration to care.
“And he knows, Clara! He keeps showing up everywhere, saying stuff like, ‘You seem nervous’ and ‘You keep looking at me like you know something I don’t.’ I swear, he’s doing it on purpose!” You paused, sighing dramatically. “The man is basically torturing me!”
“Yeah?” Clara snorted. “And what are you gonna do about it?”
“Nothing! I’m gonna hide in my apartment forever! I mean, the guy is—” You froze mid-sentence, sensing a presence that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Please, for the love of all that is holy, no.
You slowly turned, and there he was. Bucky. Leaning against his door, arms crossed, looking like he’d just won the freaking lottery.
“Oh… my god…” you whispered, feeling your soul leave your body. He was watching you with an expression of pure, unfiltered amusement, one eyebrow quirked, lips pulled into that infuriating, knowing smirk.
“Well,” he said, voice laced with mischief. “That makes one of us.” His eyes glinted with barely-contained laughter. “And here I thought you were just a fan of my boots.”
You could practically feel your brain cells going up in smoke. 
“I… uh… well… I…” you stammered, cheeks burning. “Boots… are great,” you managed, wanting to sink into the earth.
“Yeah? Because I seem to remember you looking… elsewhere last time,” he teased, stepping a little closer, enjoying every second of your embarrassment.
“Oh, no! Just… boots!” you squeaked, backing up, practically tripping over yourself. “I really should go… water my… uh… plants!”
He chuckled, savoring every second of your panic. “Good luck with that,” he said, throwing in one last wink as he slipped back into his apartment, leaving you in the hallway, feeling like you’d just gone through a slow-motion car crash.
Back in your apartment, you slid down the door, hands over your face as Clara’s laughter erupted over the phone.
“Boots?” she howled. “THAT’S what you went with? Boots?”
You groaned, banging your head back against the door. “Shut up, Clara.”
× × × ×
Determined to reclaim a shred of your dignity, you strode into the local coffee shop, praying for a quiet morning with zero embarrassing encounters. But, as if on cue, the universe had other plans.
There, right at the counter, was Bucky. He spotted you instantly, his face lighting up with that all-too-familiar grin that had haunted your dreams. There was no escape.
He waved you over, and before you could even think of pretending you hadn’t seen him, he was calling out, “Morning, neighbor! What’s your coffee order again?” His voice was loud enough that half the shop turned to look.
“Oh, um… it’s…” you stammered, but he’d already waved to the barista.
“Got it covered,” he said, leaning casually against the counter, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ve got a feeling you like it with extra cream.”
You choked on your own saliva, feeling your face turn crimson as he handed you the cup with a wink. 
“Unless I’m wrong?” he added with a smirk, feigning innocence.
“N-Nope, that’s right!” you managed, grabbing the cup like it was a shield. “Extra cream… perfect.”
He chuckled, gesturing to an empty booth in the corner. “Great. Then you won’t mind sitting down with me for breakfast.”
“Oh no, really, I should—”
He raised an eyebrow. “What, got somewhere better to be?”
You froze, helplessly aware that the entire coffee shop was listening in. You managed a nervous laugh, mumbling, “Well… no, I guess not…”
Before you knew it, you were sitting across from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes anywhere but his face, your cheeks burning as he sipped his coffee and watched you with a smug smile.
“So,” he said, leaning forward, “what’s a girl like you doing watching a guy like me online, anyway?”
Your jaw dropped, coffee cup halfway to your mouth. “I—I wasn’t watching—It was research!” you spluttered, already kicking yourself for falling right into his trap.
He chuckled, clearly reveling in your embarrassment. 
“Oh, sure, ‘research,’” he said, nodding like he totally believed you. “I get it. You know, it’s important to be informed.”
You practically shrank into your seat, glancing around to see if anyone else had heard. “Could you not say that so loudly?”
He smirked, taking a long, deliberate sip of his coffee. 
“Relax, I’m just curious,” he said, leaning in close enough that you could smell his aftershave. “Gotta say, it’s a little flattering to have a fan right next door.”
Your brain completely short-circuited. “Fan? I—no! I mean, not like that… I… I barely even…” You could feel the lie crumbling in your throat as his smirk deepened.
“Uh-huh. Then why did you look like you were about to sprint every time you saw me?” He tilted his head, studying you, eyes twinkling. “And I swear you turned pink the second you walked in here.”
Your hands shot up, covering your cheeks. “I did not! You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” he said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Because it’s like clockwork. Every time I’m around, you look like you’ve been caught red-handed. I don’t mind, you know,” he added, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”
You let out a strangled laugh, ready to crawl under the table. 
“That’s… obvious,” you muttered, feeling as though you might combust at any second.
“Okay, so since we’re having breakfast together, how about you tell me: any favorite scenes?” He laughed, looking entirely too amused as he stirred his coffee.
You practically choked on your coffee, face flaming as you tried to hide behind your cup. 
“I—I can’t believe you just asked that!” you squeaked, horrified and unable to meet his gaze.
“Oh, come on,” he grinned, clearly enjoying every second. “It’s just small talk. I mean, who better to ask than a neighbor?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Can we please pretend this conversation never happened?”
“Nope. Can’t do that,” he replied, laughing. “I think it’s a little late for that.”
Just as you were starting to pray for an earthquake to swallow you whole, you glanced up at him, cheeks still flaming. 
“Did you… did you know I recognized you this whole time?”
He leaned back, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. 
“Of course I did,” he said, laughing. “Figured it out the second I saw that look on your face. I just wanted to see if you’d ever bring it up.”
“Oh my god,” you muttered, feeling mortification seep into your very bones. “And you kept messing with me?”
“Of course,” he said, raising an eyebrow with a wicked grin. “I was just waiting to see how long it would take for you to crack. Guess now the ice is broken, huh?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re the worst.”
He winked, finishing his coffee. “Yeah, but I make breakfast interesting, don’t I?”
You laughed, feeling the last traces of embarrassment fade away—well, at least enough to breathe normally again. But just as you started to feel almost… comfortable, Bucky tilted his head, giving you a curious look.
“So, neighbor,” he said, smirking, “I’ve gotta ask… what’s your name?”
You blinked, realizing with a jolt that you’d never actually told him. In all your attempts to dodge, deflect, and survive the relentless teasing, you hadn’t even bothered to introduce yourself.
“Oh… right,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “I, uh, guess I never actually said.”
“Nope,” he replied, leaning in with a grin. “I just assumed you wanted to keep a little mystery between us.”
You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Trust me, I’m not that mysterious.”
“Really?” he replied, eyebrows raised. “Because all this time I’ve been calling you ‘Yep.’”
Your face went red as you remembered the first time you’d stammered a barely coherent “yep” instead of an introduction. “Oh my god. You haven’t been calling me that in your head this whole time, have you?”
He shrugged, smirking. “It’s kind of cute. Suits you, actually.”
You groaned, but laughed despite yourself, finally holding out your hand across the table. “Alright. I’m Y/N. Officially.”
“Y/N,” he repeated, taking your hand, his grip warm and firm. His smirk softened into something a little more genuine. “Good to meet you, Y/N. Officially.”
His hand lingered in yours for a beat longer than necessary, and for a moment, there was no teasing, no innuendos—just the two of you, sitting across the table, smiling like two normal people who’d just met under… semi-normal circumstances.
Then, just as you were starting to think maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this weirdly charming neighbor situation, he leaned back, that mischievous glint creeping back into his eyes.
“Now that we’re on a first-name basis,” he said, winking, “you can tell me all about your favorite scenes. You know, for professional feedback.”
You burst out laughing, face in your hands as he watched you with a triumphant grin. Yep, you thought, already regretting nothing and everything.
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corkinavoid · 2 months ago
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DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids (pt.2)
[<- part 1]
"Oh, yeah," John jerks his head up like he just remembered the fact people are supposed to have names at all. He gestures to the kids, pointing to each of them as he introduces, "Daniel, Daniel, and Danielle."
This time, all three kids flip him off simultaneously. Bruce clears his throat, trying to figure out if Constantine is messing with him and, if so, in which parts. Since, so far, everything the man has said sounds like a poor attempt at pulling his leg.
"I don't think they like those," he cautiously says, and the kids whip their heads at him, nodding furiously. Bruce can't help but be just a little enamored with the way they behave.
"Of, sod off, at this point I don't care what they like," John straightens up with a dismissive, albeit weak, wave of his hands, and rubs his face, "They are menaces. Sometimes by accident, but mostly on purpose. Their grandfather thought it would be easier to handle them if they were not teenagers, and while I agreed with his reasoning at the time, I-" he glances at the kids, who all have displeased grimaces of various levels on their faces, "I have been made to reconsider. I swear that ancient bitch is laughing his ass off wherever he is now."
The kids suddenly grin. They are not very friendly, nor polite smiles - if anything, they look a bit nightmarish. An old grandfather's clock in his study makes a very loud ticking noise.
"See?" John whips his head to look at said clock, the expression on his face bordering on insane. His eye twitches.
If Bruce doesn't do anything now, he might become one of the very few people who managed to witness John Constantine, the Laughing Magician, have a meltdown. So he sighs and decides to solve the problems one at a time.
Which means that no matter how alarmed or suspicious he is, his first move would not be to interrogate either the man or the kids.
"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, I trust you can find it on your own," he tells John, almost softly, as he catches the girl from slipping away from his lap, "Is there anything I need to know about children before you fall unconscious?"
John slumps with relief, so obviously that Bruce almost smiles. Hardships of raising - or, watching, for that matter - kids, he understands.
"Yes," he breathes out with an air of exhilaration and turns to the kids again, pointing to the middle child, "Danny is the original. He is from this dimension and timeline, that is. Dan," he turns his finger to the older boy, "is in the wrong timeline, he's Danny's future evil self redeemed into older bratty brother. Dani," he switches to the girl, "is Danny's clone, made by his arch-nemesis of a godfather. If she starts melting at any point, wake me up immediately. If any of them start floating, sprouting tentacles, speaking to walls in static, or glowing, don't."
Bruce looks down to the kids. So, definitely metas, that would explain the government trying to get them... Or, no, it wouldn't because he is fairly certain no government is going to blatantly ignore the Meta Protection Acts.
"Don't let them raise the dead, and if you give them food, make sure it doesn't have a face. If you find more than three of them, it means one of them has duplicated, don't worry, they will absorb it back later. Absolutely don't let them touch any guns," Constantine is backing down to the door as he speaks, his gaze flickering from the kids to Bruce and back every second. Like he is leaving a ticking bomb in Bruce's lap, and not three children. "Danny is, comparatively, the most responsible one, the other two are up for any dubious trouble they can get to at any moment. Oh, and their memories are wonky because of de-aging, they remember some things but not others, so if they say something particularly disturbing, it's most likely some random piece of knowledge they managed to keep."
Bruce raises an eyebrow. He did get the part about the kids being, well, abnormal in the matters of their origins, but the disjointed set of rules and advices doesn't help as much as Constantine probably thinks it does.
"Allergies, preferences, ages they were before?" He tries to get at least some more info down before John disappears through the door. Actually, maybe he should send someone to handcuff the man to the bed lest he disappears completely.
"None, but don't let them eat cutlery. Danny likes space, Dani has a thing for exploring, and Dan likes violence." The older kid stirs in Bruce's lap and says something in the direction of Constantine. No sound comes out, but the man seems to get what he's trying to say anyway, "Okay, yes, that was rude of me, sorry. Dan likes... exercise," he ends up with, and that placate the boy enough to slump down and cross his arms. John sighs, "They were seventeen, fourteen, and twenty respectively. Now," he snaps his fingers, and suddenly Bruce can hear the girl - Dani - humming a tune under her breath. So, he lifted the silence spell, it seems.
"Good fucking luck," John wishes to Bruce, earnestly, and all but vanishes away.
Bruce sighs and looks down to the kids.
"Are you hungry?" He tries, and all eyes are on him at once, attentive and unblinking.
"Fruitloops," Danny says, and while Bruce is positive that's the name for a cereal, he gets a feeling that's not what the kid meant.
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joonberriess · 9 months ago
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LOVIN’ YOU ౨ৎ ‧₊˚
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TAGS — unprotected sex, nasty sex, late valentines gift, rough sex, romantic(?), daddy kink, dirty talk, breeding kink, possessive!jk, baby no. 2 might have been made here, spoiler: it was, jk is meannnnn, heavy dom-sub vibes, edging, fingering, oc loves being degraded for being a whore for jk, it gets super soft, love making, oc is a bratty sub in this one, heavy degradation, slut shaming(?), oc wants to CUCK jk as a joke but he gets his lick back on her lmao, PET NAMESSS, this is a spin-off from the main series of flawless!
WORD COUNT — 3.5 k
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“Happy anniversary love.” Jungkook sleepily mumbles as he passes by. He leans over to land a kiss on your forehead, his hand slips from the back of your waist and over your hip settling with a gentle squeeze.
You tilt your head and rest it against his bicep while brushing your teeth. We look good, you think while admiring Jungkook’s bare form. He had decided to forgo a sleeping shirt last night and chose only his slutty silk pajamas you had both bought together on a whim. You were wrapped up in a baby pink robe with a pretty little night slip underneath.
“Is Jae awake,” you softly ask while admiring your appearance in the luxurious mirror. Jungkook says something but you’re busy rinsing your mouth out so you don’t catch it, and by the time you come back up he’s brushing his own teeth with a silly little smile on his face.
“What?” You purse your lips, “What’s so funny?” He shakes his head and spits out the paste from his mouth leaving you a bit annoyed at your husband’s antics. “Hmph.”
You lay your head back on his bicep again and lift your phone up to snap a picture of the two of you. “Say cheese,” you softly giggle while zooming in on his face, bursting out into laughter as Jungkook gives you a foamy smile.
You peep the way your diamond ring and wedding band glistens under the sunlight pouring in through the open french doors, Jungkook’s own wedding band shining just as bright too. You wrap your ringed hand around him and snap a few more pictures for later. “Jungkook–you’re making a mess.” You sigh as water droplets hit your thighs from his little mouth rinsing session.
“Sorry.” Jungkook wipes his face down with a towel and nods in approval at something, “All the little old French ladies are gonna be all over me, aren’t you worried someone’s gonna take me away sweetheart?” He tenderly cups your cheeks and squeezes.
This certainly has your brow raising in question, “Aren’t you worried a French man is going to take me away? What if he whisks me off to the Eiffel Tower and proposes to me? Hm?” You play at his game, watching in satisfaction as a twinge of possessiveness and jealousy spark in his dark onyx eyes.
“Take you? Baby over my dead body,” he tugs you in and holds you against him, “wish a motherfucker would..” He grunts under his breath, the tone sends a delicious little shiver down your spine. You swear you have a second heartbeat right now, you just loved when he got like this.
His big greedy hands grab handfuls of your ass through the flimsy little thong you were wearing under your night slip. A tiny gasp slips from your lips as he abruptly smacks both cheeks making you jump just a little. “Bet you don’t like that huh?” You softly smirk. Jungkook grumbles like you already know the answer to that.
He leans down to leave a flurry of kisses all over your neck and shoulder, irritably growling when your robe gets in the way as he tugs the entire thing off. “Just the fuckin’ thought of someone putting their hands on you pisses me off sweetheart—not everyone should have the luxury of being blessed with your soft little cunt and perky ass.” He whispers darkly in your ear.
“You like that? Like hearing how much I love this slutty body? It makes me never wanna let you leave those sheets darling, especially with how good you looked for me on the bed last night.” Jungkook wraps his lips around a hickey he left last night, immediately he starts sucking on it with the intention of making it darker.
You mewl softly at his words and bite your lip, “You know I don’t want anyone else,” you flutter your lashes coyly, “ ‘s the only cock I’ll ever need daddy, no one can fuck me like you do,” you lean up to whisper low and sultry in his ear, “so show them who I belong to.”
Jungkook groans at your seductive tone and hauls you up by the back of your thighs, “Ain’t I just the luckiest bastard sweetheart? What’d I do to deserve such a pretty little thing like you?” He muses while untying the bow holding your robe together.
Your robe falls apart, unveiling your tits as if they were a piece of artwork for Jungkook’s hungry eyes to feast on. He licks his lips darkly, eyes briefly flickering up to stare into your own. “Please daddy.” You softly say while spreading your legs wider, hooking your ankles together behind his strong muscular back, tugging him closer to you.
“Why should I? Thought your little french boy’s can do it better than me?” He huskily whispers, hot breath hovering over your pebbled nipple, “Will he fuck you the way I do? Have you screaming and shaking? More importantly sweetheart,” he whispers low, “will he be able to satisfy you the way I can?” He engulfs your nipple in his mouth.
You bite your lip and lean your head back while running your fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, will he?” You breathily whisper, breath hitched when Jungkook uses a hint of teeth on your sore teat. “Maybe he can, I’ll even put on a show for you daddy—so you can see how pretty I look taking someone else’s cock.”
Jungkook’s grip tightens to the point that the pressure has you squirming, “What’s the matter daddy? Thought you wanted to see how pretty I look hanging off a cock.”
“Fuckin’ minx,” he growls pulling away from your wet nipple, “that what you want? You gonna let your daddy watch someone else stuff their dick into that whore-ish cunt of yours? Is that it sweetheart? Baby wants to be a whore?” He lands a punishing smack against your ass cheek, causing it to echo loudly in the otherwise quiet bathroom.
You arch your back and whine, “For you,” you mewl softly, “only you daddy.” You finally gave in because the tension was rising and it was proving too much to handle. Jungkook didn’t give a fuck, he could play it that game—far worse too.
“Now it’s only me huh? Where’d my little whore go hm? The one who wanted to put on a show for her daddy?” He cups your chin and squeezes your cheeks together, “Hm?”
You whine again but he doesn’t let up on your suffering, “Not so bold now, huh sweetheart? Cat got your tongue baby?” He leans in, mocking your little whines in his own husky voice which immediately has you slicking up. “Why the pout?” He smirks like he isn’t the one responsible for this sweet torture.
“Because..”
“Because,” he mocks with a pout while squeezing your chin and such, waiting for a coherent answer. “Haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re a mess.”
You bite your lip at his mean tone and arch into his touch, desperately wiggling and bucking your hips just to feel— you’ll take anything at this point. Jungkook stops you with his hand and holds you still, “Look at you, humping me like a little bitch in heat.” He cruelly chuckles.
“Jungkook,” you softly sob, they’re not real tears anyways but still it’s not fair that he’s not giving you the fucking you deserve. At least a good dick sucking session would suffice but you can’t even have that. ;(
“Say it,” he reaches down to cup you through your thong, “say you’re mine sweet girl,” he purrs.
Your lips part in a small ‘o’ as his fingers breach your soaked thong, he dips them in teasingly with his fingertips brushing against your poor clit. “ ‘m yours, only yours.” You whimper softly, “Please..? Want your fingers daddy,” you wiggle around again.
Your devious husband doesn’t even warn you before he’s plunging his fingers into your sopping cunt. A breathless cry escapes and you toss your head back from the sudden burst of hot pleasure in your loins, “Mm..!”
Jungkook doesn’t even let you compose yourself before he’s curling his ring and index finger up to brush against your g-spot. He has no problem really, he knows your little cunt like the back of his hand, he’ll have you dripping in no time. “Like this? Or like this?” He suddenly stops and shifts away from your sensitive spot.
While it felt heavenly, nothing compared to Jungkook finger-fucking you into oblivion while hitting your g-spot over and over again. You find yourself panting hotly while scrambling to get a grip on his arm, “Yes..! Like that, please,” you softly cry out. You desperately roll your hips up, your pussy greedily swallowing up every inch of those thick fingers of his.
“That feel good?” He coos while tilting your face with his free hand, “Look at me sweetheart, I wanna watch you fall apart on my fingers for me like a good girl.”
You whimper when he says “good girl” it has your stomach fluttering all over again as you arch into his touch. He switches up his pace and fucks his fingers in deeper and deeper until he’s knuckle-deep inside that sopping cunt. Endless copious amounts of slick dribble down your pussy to your ass, making a real mess on that white marble counter..
“J-Jungkook..!” You breath out while digging your nails into his wrist, the pleasure was beginning to rise higher and higher, only making that little knot in your stomach tighten with each stroke.
Your husband doesn’t seem to mind you falling apart like that, in fact he speeds his pace up and rapidly fucks his fingers into your cunt. You’re literally letting out dribbles of squirt each time he fucks them back in, the pressure in your lower belly and the air around you turns hot. You find yourself shaking under his rough ministrations.
“C-Coming,” you gasp loudly, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of you.
Right as your pussy reaches that sweet abyss, Jungkook suddenly yanks his fingers out leaving your pussy gaping around nothing. You sob in frustration and let your head hit the mirror with a dull thud, “ ‘s not fair!”
Jungkook wipes his digits over your pussy before holding them up to your lips, “Suck.” He leaves no room for argument as you obediently take his fingers into your mouth and lick them clean. He watches with a dark expression, “Good girl, that’s enough. Next time you wanna play like that make sure you can handle the heat sweetheart. Cute.” He smirks evilly as he pats your cheek and heads out of the bathroom.
You bite back a groan of frustration, the edging is so going to be worth it in the long run though.. You lick your lips and hop off the counter on shaky legs, your orgasm may have been ruined but you still had a few things in your head that you wanted to try out on your dear husband.
+
“What’s wrong my love?” Jungkook asks from behind you as he gently massages your aching feet, “Is it the heels? You should’ve taken my shoes baby.” He softly mumbles.
It was nighttime by now and after a whole day of shopping and sight-seeing you were honestly ready to just hit the hay. Everytime he applied pressure on your sore tired feet, you couldn’t help the pained moan you’d let out. You were currently lying face down on the bed with your feet kicked back on Jungkook’s lap, just enjoying that foot rub.
“I’m okay, I was having too much fun to notice.” You softly reply while tilting your head to look back at him, “.. Jungkookie, I kind of had something on my mind—well it’s been in there for a good while now.” You softly admit.
“Okay,” he softly replies, ready and attentive.
You fully turn around and crawl over to sit on his lap, “What if we have another baby?” You toy with his necklace and pout, “It’s just that… Jae’s getting older and the house feels a little lonely now that he hangs out with friends and stuff..”
“So my sweetheart wants a baby?” He says with a soft look in his eye.
You timidly nod and wrap your arms around his neck, “Think about it, another mini-us running around the house like Jae used to,” you chuckle, “you remember when he was a devious devil…always getting into your office even though I told him not to,” you say fondly.
He chuckles endearingly, “Of course I remember baby, those were the best years of my life—raising him and coming home to you.”
“Soooo, that’s why I think it’d be a great idea to have another baby!” You giggle happily while smooching over his lips, “Cos you’re not gettin’ any younger, old man.” You stick your tongue out teasingly.
Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh, “You’ve been hanging out with Jae too much, but no, unfortunately you’re stuck with this old man.” He snorts despite not really being THAT old like his own son made him out to be.
“You’re MY old man though,” you kiss his nose gently, “and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You cheekily grin.
He brings you in for a tender kiss, laying gentle pecks over your lips until you’re whining for him to stop. “I love you sweetheart.” He murmurs softly while stroking your hair, “I’m glad you decided to stick around, don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I mean, did I really have a CHOICE?” You roll your eyes with a smile, “I’m kidding love, you know I would do it all over again for you. Nothing in the world could ever change that.” You softly say and bring him closer.
Jungkook doesn’t protest when your lips meet, he wraps his arms around your back as his eyes slip shut. The kiss itself feels magical and you can’t help but wrap your arms tighter around him in a loving embrace. You break from the kiss to catch your breath, there’s a small string of saliva that connects your lips.
“C’mere.” Jungkook mumbles and brings you back in for another sweet kiss. He slowly falls back onto the bed and brings you with him, never parting from the messy spit-slick kiss.
You and Jungkook don’t last long just kissing because you find yourself tugging on his clothes and helping him strip vice-versa. The two of you find yourselves under the warm silky sheets, and a rose-scented aroma that fills the entire room after Jungkook decides to light the candle on a whim.
The sheer intimacy of it all, you’re not in a rush this time—this time is something meaningful. You can’t really find it in yourself to come out of that little romantic bubble right now, everything just wants to make you cry. It literally makes your heart hurt over how sweet and loving Jungkook is…what did you do to deserve him?
“Hi.” You softly say when Jungkook and you come face to face after kissing for what seemed like hours.
“Hi beautiful.” He nuzzles your nose gently and presses his forehead against yours.
You blush shyly and look away, “Yah, just shut up and give me my baby already.. All that talk and no action,” you giggle, “pussy isn’t gonna breed itself.” Jungkook’s mouth drops open at what you say and it sends you reeling into explosive laughter.
“Where did my sweetheart go huh? ‘S like a little devil just popped in to say hi,” he recovers from the initial shock with a low chuckle, “you’re gonna send me to an early grave.” He groans.
You lean down to whisper in his ear, “C’mon, I know you wanna fuck me till I catch—till I’m full and round with our baby again.” You purr cupping his jawline, “Turns you on doesn’t it? Knowing damn well that’s your baby you put in me.”
He swallows harshly and nods, “Love it sweetheart, I’ll die a happy man knowing that I got to put my kids in you before any other bastard could.” He growls.
“Then get to it,” you softly coo, “or I’ll find someone else to do the job for you.”
That turns him on like a switch, he flips the two of you over and pins your arms above your head with a dark look. “Yeah? Guess I gotta show you what you’d be missing then baby,” he takes a hold of his cock and slaps the wet tip over your pussy, “gonna make sure you’re filled by the end of the night.”
You moan softly at his words and spread your legs wider, “I want it—every last drop of it daddy, want you to breed me.” You pout softly while pursing your lips for a kiss.
He kisses you like a princess but fucks you like a whore, which is what you LOVED about him. You reach down to stroke his hard cock, running your thumb over the leaky tip and over every vein on his shaft. He looks like he’s in bliss as he bites his bottom lip and watches you with hooded eyes.
“Want it in me,” you softly say while rubbing his cock through your soft squishy folds, “can I please?”
“Fuck—anything you want babydoll.”
You give him the most precious smile ever and then push his cock towards your greedy hole. You easily take the head with ease as it pops in slowly. The two of you hiss low at the pressure as Jungkook slips inch after inch into your pussy.
“More, please,” you breathlessly sigh while laying your head back on the soft pillow.
Jungkook doesn’t even think he has the strength to say no to begin with. He holds himself up over you while slowly bumping his hips into yours. His cock is utterly drenched with your slick, the slide is messy and loud whenever he bottoms out.
“Fuck,” he hisses and drops down to his elbows as he cages you in, “you feel so fucking good sweetheart.”
His balls are pressed snug, showing you that he really is taking this breeding thing seriously—more than ever now because you both have a mutual goal in mind. “It’s okay daddy,” you softly say, “I can take it.”
Jungkook pauses to look at you, damn near cursing when he sees that expression you got on your face. He hooks your thighs over his arms and folds you into a mating press with your hips tilted up, “There you go sweetheart, jus’ relax ‘n take it for me sweetheart.”
He whispers more praises under his breath while rocking into you gently. His pace doesn’t seem to stay the same because gradually he begins speeding up. Much like yesterday he really lets hell rain on your poor cunt.
You whimper and cry out while holding on with your toes curled from the pleasure. He doesn’t even bother with teasing or anything because he hits that sweet spot inside of you relentlessly. Each time he drives his cock in there’s a lewd wet smack, and the noises only get louder from there.
“T-There..! Don’t stop, please,” you whimper and grit your teeth, “feels so good..”
Jungkook huffs quietly and leans down to kiss over your bruised neck, “Yeah baby? You gonna let me fill that pussy up till you’re dripping? Gonna let me use it till I’m done?”
“Yes!” You gasp, “Anything for you,”
“For me?” He coos as he cups your chin and tilts your face to him, “Cute.” He smirks softly and continues fucking into you relentlessly.
The smacking sounds get louder and the bed creaks from force. You quite literally are seeing stars as he rocks your entire world, you can’t even form a coherent sentence let alone see through your starry vision.
“Jungkook..!” You whimper through your moans, “ ‘m gonna cum, please,” you sob as the tension begins rising, “can I, please daddy?” You whine out while gritting your teeth.
He stops to let your legs fall from his grip as he changes the pace and grabs onto your soft hips. He uses it as leverage to fuck into your cunt with repeated wet smacks. “Go on,” he grunts, “cum for me.” He spits between the two of you, right where your pussy opens up beautifully for him as he slides his thumb over your slippery clit.
Your mouth falls open when he rubs side to side in tandem with his thrusts. Your back arches and the air gets knocked out of you as you cum with intense waves of pleasure. “Jungkook,” you mewl desperately while pawing at him.
He doesn’t stop rubbing your clit until you go silent and your weak hands push at his wrist again. He growls low and rubs the sensitive bud faster until you’re drenching his lap and the sheets slick. His eyes briefly flicker up to see that you’re in bliss right now.
You feel the telltale signs of his orgasm as his cock throbs painfully inside of you. It only takes a few more pumps until Jungkook’s pressing his hips tight against you and milking every drop of his cum. His ragged moans and breathing have you getting wet all over again.
“Mm..” You tiredly let your hands flop on the bed, “I’m so sleepy..” You softly say.
Jungkook quietly grunts, “Just rest, I got you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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badkitty3000 · 3 months ago
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Don't Stand So Close To Me
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Five was doing his best to resist you. You were too young for him. Too eager. But when he decided to try and scare you straight, he got a little more than he bargained for. That's when he realized maybe he wasn't as strong as he thought he was.
Five x Female Reader-Insert, 6,700 words, One-shot
Warnings: Smut, explicit sex, everyone is an adult
This was born from a request I received for Five with a young(ish) woman that won't leave him alone. I have modified a few things, but I hope it still works! ❤️
Five sighed and rolled his eyes when he saw you coming toward him. He had been balancing a bag of dry cleaning in one hand and cup of coffee in the other and was just about to chance blinking inside his apartment instead of using the door when he heard your greeting.
“Damn it,” he muttered to himself, wishing he had just risked spilling his beverage all over his newly pressed suits by disappearing inside. Now he was stuck.
“Here, let me help!” you chirped, jogging up to him.
“No thanks, I’ve got it,” Five argued, but as he did so the bag of clothes nearly slipped from his hand.
“Got it!” you exclaimed with a smile, snatching up the bag.
Five gave a weary smile and another sigh. “Thank you.”
“No problem!”
As Five fished around in his pocket for his key, he tried not to make eye contact with you. Actually, he tried not to have anything to do with you most of the time. You just hadn’t gotten the hint.
“What are you up to tonight?” you asked, and Five could hear the twinge of hopefulness in your voice.
“Oh, you know…the same as usual. Make some dinner, watch Unsolved Mysteries, and go to bed.” He opened the door and took the dry cleaning from you. “Typical old man stuff.”
You nodded as if you knew exactly what he was talking about. You did know, in a way. You knew all about Five’s history, his powers, and his actual age. It’s hard to keep that shit private when your entire life has been broadcast across the world for everyone to witness. Unfortunately, at least from Five’s point of view, you didn’t seem to care.
You bit at your fingernail and looked down at the ground. Five wasn’t about to invite you in, so he waited for an uncomfortable few seconds before speaking up again.
“Ok, well, thanks for your help. Have a good night.”
“Oh…ok,” you said sadly. “Good night, Five.”
As Five stepped inside his apartment and flicked on the light, he draped his bag of suits over a chair, taking a sip of his coffee. He shoved a hand in his pocket and looked around his small, quiet apartment. It wasn’t much; just a shitty one-bedroom with a miniscule kitchen. But that was all he needed. That and to be left alone.
Despite trying to keep a safe distance from you, you had yet to be deterred. Five knew you liked him; it was pretty obvious. Ever since he moved into the building, you hadn’t missed an opportunity to corner him at the mailboxes, or in the hallway. Being trapped in the elevator was the most awkward, so Five tried his best to avoid those encounters by blinking around as much as possible. You always seemed to catch him, though.
It's not that Five didn’t like you. You were sweet, and cute, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t flattered that you were so into him. The problem was that you were 21 and he was in his late sixties. Old enough to be your grandfather; at least mentally. Physically, he was in your same age range, which he assumed made things very confusing for you. While you did know all about his older consciousness, Five figured you conveniently forgot most of the time. Like when you wore those tiny little running shorts with a sports bra and decided to do some warm up stretches directly in front of his door.
Five wasn’t fully immune to your little come-ons. He still had a pulse, after all. Not to mention the hormones and libido of a much younger man. Still…even after all that he had witnessed and done throughout his life, he had managed to hold onto a couple scraps of morality. And only sleeping with women who were over the age of 30 was a personal rule of his.
He wasn’t sure why he picked that age; it was still more than half of his. But he figured most people’s brains had fully matured by then and it made him feel like less of a sexual deviant. He hadn’t had a date or any hook ups in a while, though. Most nights he just came back to his place and did exactly what he told you he did. Old man stuff.
As he stood there, contemplating all of this, there was a knock at his door. Five rolled his eyes yet again and set his coffee down. When he opened the door, there you were, as he suspected. You looked up at him with nervous eyes that couldn’t quite hold his own while holding two large containers of food and a bottle of red wine.
“Hi, again. What can I do for you?”
“Hi, Five. So, it turns out I made too much food for dinner, so I wondered if you wanted some?” You held out the containers to him. “It’s spaghetti and a salad, and I had this bottle of wine that I thought would go well with it. It’s nothing fancy, but I know you’re alone, so you probably don’t have anyone to cook for you…” Your voice trailed off and you looked away.
Five ran a hand down the back of his neck and looked down the hallway. No one else was around and he was hungry. He reached out to take the food, but left you holding the wine.
“Thank you, that’s really nice of you.”
Your eyes lit up at his compliment and you smiled. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I cook all the time, so anytime you want me to make you something, just let me know. I’m pretty good at it.”
Five chuckled. “I have no doubt that you are. It looks great.” He was about to go back into his apartment, when he looked back at your disappointed face. Shit. If he didn’t invite this girl in, he was going to look like a real asshole. He was definitely going to regret this, though. “Would you like to come in and join me for dinner? Looks like you made plenty for both of us.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”
Five smiled gently and shook his head. “No, you’re not. Come on in.”
After you stepped in, and Five busied himself making plates of food for the two of you, you set the wine on the kitchen table and looked around his place.
“Wow, I’m not sure what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it.”
Five looked up while he opened the wine. “Isn’t it just the same as your place?”
You nodded. “Yeah, it is. Which is why I’m surprised. I thought yours would be a little…”
“Old man-ish?” Five grinned as he handed you the glass of Pinot Noir.
“…sexier,” you answered with a sly grin, taking the glass from him.
Five’s eyebrows raised. “Sexier?”
You shrugged and took a sip. “I don’t know. I expected more black and leather. Like a real bachelor pad, you know?”
“Yeah, that’s not really me,” he said with a quiet chuckle. “I’m not exactly a swinging bachelor these days.”
You cocked your head to the side. “Oh, no? How come?”
Five saw he had backed himself into a corner and he didn’t really want to get into his love life with you, so he cleared his throat and gestured to the table. “Food’s ready.”
As you sat across from one another at Five’s small dining table, the initial awkwardness began to wear off as the wine started taking effect. You became a little bolder in your flirting, and Five was finding he didn’t mind as much as he usually did. By the time dinner was finished, and another bottle of red was opened, you had moved to the living room to continue your conversation. Five sat down on the couch as you plopped in the armchair across from him, tucking your leg up under you, making your shorts slide up your bare thigh. Five couldn’t help but notice, and you caught him in the act.
As you continued your small talk, Five watched as you fidgeted in your chair. Every adjustment of your body seemed to be just for him, and he found his mouth pooling with saliva that he tried very hard to subtly swallow back down. It was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. The smooth, bare skin of your legs, the curves of your breasts, the way your lips looked so damn delicious as you talked. He was in trouble.
“So,” he said, his voice cracking. “It’s getting late.”
You nodded with an upturn of your mouth before standing up and crossing to Five. As you loomed over him, he looked up, his gaze traveling the full length of your body. The wine was giving you more confidence that you normally would have. He looked so damn good, sitting there with his hair a little disheveled from running his hand through it all night, and you weren’t quite ready for the evening to end yet. You reached down, taking his wine glass to set it on the table with your own. When you climbed onto his lap, straddling his thighs, and draping your arms over his shoulders, he was shocked into silence.
Your warm groin settled over his lap with your tits pressed against his chest. Breathing harder, his hands automatically came to rest on your hips as he looked up at you. You smiled, your hair framing your face as you leaned in to kiss him.
Five closed his eyes, his grip on you tightening for a second as he kissed you in return. You moaned softly into his mouth, pressing yourself down when you felt him start to harden beneath you. That’s when he woke from his trance and pulled his head back.
“Stop.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Look…I like you, but we can’t do this.”
“Why not?”
“Well, there’s a lot of reasons, but namely I’m way too old for you. And you’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk.”
Five rolled his eyes. “Ok, well, I am. And that doesn’t change the fact that I’m about three times older than you.”
“I don’t care.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but this needs to stop before it goes any further.”
“You’re sure that’s what you want?” you asked, tilting your head to the side and giving just a little push into his crotch.
He shook his head slowly, exhaling a long breath. “No, but it’s what needs to happen. Understand?”
After you reluctantly left, Five cleaned up the kitchen, jerked off in the shower, and went to bed trying very hard not to think of you anymore. Over the next two weeks, he did everything he could think of not to run into you in the building again. He was afraid that not only would it be awkward, but that he would start feeling things he shouldn’t.
The truth was, you had gotten to him. Despite his best efforts, that little stunt you pulled by climbing into his lap had worked. Fuck, had it worked. Not a day went by when he wasn’t imagining what would have happened had he not cut it short. Those firm tits pressed against him and your soft lips against his…shit, he was going insane. He had to keep to his rule, though. You were just too young.
But you did not give up easily. You knew what you wanted and you were determined to make him see you as the adult you really were.
“Five!” you called with a little wave, as you caught him trying to enter his apartment one evening.
When Five saw you, he cursed under his breath. He really did not have the energy to deal with you. He had just gotten back from a job and he was not in the mood for your little antics.
“You can’t keep coming over here like this, I’ve told you that,” Five explained, turning his focus back to the key in the door.
“I just wanted to say hi,” you said with an innocence that he wasn’t buying.
“Yeah, I know what you’re doing,” he grumbled.
You paused. “I’m sorry about what happened before, Five. I understand why you might be hesitant, but you know…”
“What do I know?”
“I am an adult, like I said. You don’t have to keep treating me like I’m a kid.”
“You are a kid,” Five shot back.
You looked up at him with a tiny smirk. “From what I remember, it didn’t feel like you thought I was a kid the other night.”
Five’s jaw set, his teeth grinding together. He wasn’t going to stand there and get made fun of by some girl that was determined to get in his pants, even if he did have the beginnings of a boner when she sat on his lap.
“Just stay away from me, ok?” he snarled. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Oh, please, Five…I think I can handle—”
Five turned abruptly, his face hard with dark brows pulled together. As he leaned in, his jaw set and body tense, you flinched, but did not break your eye contact.
“You think you can handle me, sweetheart? You have no idea what I’m capable of,” he hissed in your face.
Swallowing, but holding your ground, you nodded. “I can handle you, Five. I’m not scared of you. And if you’d just let me get to know you a little more –"
His laugh was laced with menace as he took another step toward you. You were left staring at one another, neither of you backing down. He was close enough that you could hear his harsh breathing through his nose and smell the faint traces of after-shave. His eyes searched over your face before turning back to his door.
“Get the fuck away from me. Please,” he said quietly.
“I know what I’m doing, I’m not sure why you think I’m so innocent.”
Five looked down and sighed. He was tired of constantly trying to maintain his morality. He was an old man in a young man’s body and he was so damn sick of taking the higher road. Most people thought he was an asshole, and they weren’t wrong. He had a high success rate of keeping the people he wanted out of his life out, and barely tolerating the ones he let in. He was a killer. A trauma-filled nightmare wrapped up in a pretty package. He was not normal, and it was time you knew that.
“Fuck it,” he said out loud to no one in particular. As his eyes locked on yours again, his normally emerald-colored ones became dark.
He continued to take another step toward you, and then another, until you were backed against the opposite wall of the quiet hallway. Overhead, the fluorescent lights hummed as a single fly battled for its life inside one of the fixtures.
“Alright…I will confess, I have been thinking a lot about you lately.”
“You have?”
Five nodded, closing in on you until he was inches from your body; close enough that you could see the faint line of stubble on his chin and hear his deep breathing.
“Specifically…what you would be willing to do for me.”
As his gaze traveled over your body, taking in the tight tank top and miniscule shorts you were wearing, you could almost feel the energy pulsing out of him in waves. It was terrifying and intoxicating, and it had you rooted to the spot.
“What do you want me to do for you?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes, blinking slowly.
“Strip.”
You had been trying to keep up with him. Trying to beat him at his own game. But you sucked in a quiet, yet audible, gasp of air.
“What?”
“I want you naked for me. Now.”
He was still so close to you, his mouth mere inches away from yours, and yet he made no further movement to do anything else. He was trapping you there; playing with his prey for fun. And you weren’t sure if he was going to eat you or let you escape.
“Here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. “That’s right, sweetheart. You think you know me? You think you want me? Then, prove it.”
“What if someone walks by?”
Five shrugged with a grin. He took a step back, allowing you enough room to leave, should you so choose. Again, he made no move to grab you, or touch you in any way. He shook his head, eyeing you pitifully.
“Don’t play games you can’t win. It won’t end well for you.”
When you had nothing to say to that, his demeanor changed again. Back to his normal, tired expression, his eyes and mouth drooped. He said nothing more, but just turned back toward his apartment, and opened the door. After he took a step inside, he heard you clear your throat. Turning around, he was faced with an unexpected sight.
With each slow, deliberate step you took in his direction, you started to strip your clothes away. First your top, lowering the straps over your shoulders and drawing it up over your head. Then your shorts, unbuttoning them before sliding them down your thighs and kicking them to the side. Five seemed frozen to the spot, unable to move and unable to speak. But his eyes followed you with an unmistakable hunger.
As you closed in on him, you were left in your bra and panties. With a small smirk, you reached behind you and undid the clasp of your bra. Slowly peeling it away from your body, you watched as Five’s gaze dropped to your breasts.
“Like I said…I’m not afraid of you,” you said, as you confidently jutted your chin out, along with your chest.
Five’s face flickered with shock, followed by what you could only imagine was lust, before it turned to anger. He grabbed your upper arm, squeezing it hard, before shaking you.
His teeth gritted and bared, he snarled in your face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
You did your best to pretend you were in full control of the situation. “What you told me to do.”
Five’s eyes roamed over your body for a split second, before they were back on your face. He was angrier than you had ever seen him before. And yet, you had a feeling the anger was just masking something else. Something he didn’t want you to see.
At that moment, the loud ding of the elevator doors rang out, signaling that you would soon not be alone. He looked down the hallway and then back at you. When you didn’t make a move, his jaw tensed even more. Stalking past you to snatch your clothes off the floor, he grabbed your arm again.
“God damn it, get inside,” he demanded, yanking you forcefully through the doorway of his apartment.
As you stumbled your way inside, he continued to grasp your upper arm. He slammed the door behind you and got in your face again.
“Are you stupid?” he growled.
You shook your head. “No.”
“Well, stop fucking acting like it. Jesus!” He let go of your arm, leaving you standing there in just your underwear, while he ran a hand through his hair. “You can’t just go around stripping naked in public places just because someone tells you to. What the fuck?”
You smiled and took a step toward him. “What’s the matter Five? Losing at your own game?”
Five’s breath had become louder and harsher. You could practically see the wheels turning inside his head. He wanted you; you were sure of it. The juxtaposition of desire and restraint was evident in every twitch of coiled muscle and nervous hover of his eyes on your breasts. He had been trying to scare you; make you flee in terror at his aggressive advances. But joke was on him, because you fucking loved it.
Another look of anger swept over his face as he laughed darkly. “Shit. You really do not know what you are getting yourself into here.”
You swallowed nervously. “I don’t care.”
“Well, you should. And you should leave.”
Five continued to bore into you with his intense stare. His dark eyes indicated menace, but his stiff body language gave off something else. Fear. But Five Hargreeves does not give into fear easily. When he feels it creeping in, he turns it into something else. Something mean and ruthless.
When you didn’t make a move to leave, he took a step forward. A half-smirk formed on his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head to the side.
“Alright then…you’ve been warned,” he said pleasantly, right before his voice turned ice cold. “Now lose those fucking panties before I rip them off myself.”
Slowly, and without breaking eye contact, you hooked your thumbs into the elastic waist of your lace panties and pulled them down over your hips, letting them drop to the floor at your feet. You stood perfectly still, allowing him to take you all in while your chest began to rise and fall more rapidly.
You thought you had him this time. How was he going to resist a fully nude woman right in front of his face? But instead of giving in, like you knew he wanted, he gave a small shake of his head. Still holding the clothes you had discarded in the hallway, he stepped forward until he was directly in front of you, smiling derisively. His face was so close to your bare skin, you could feel the warmth of his exhale along your leg as he bent to pick up the pair of underwear. When he walked casually past you in the direction of the living room, your jaw dropped as he opened the sliding glass doors that led to a small balcony, and hurled your clothes outside. You watched in disbelief as they floated briefly on the light breeze before disappearing out of sight; fluttering to the ground, six floors below.
He closed the doors, turning back to you with a satisfied, yet stony expression. He pointed at the door to the hall.
“Get out.”
You paused, your eyes nervously darting toward the door. “What?”
He flicked a piece of hair out of his eyes in indifference. “You said you didn’t care if anyone saw you. So, leave.”
When you continued to stand there, wide-eyed and confused, he snorted and shook his head. “That’s what I thought. I’m not the nice guy you think I am. And I’m certainly not one of your little fucking boyfriends you can manipulate to get your way.” His voice softened somewhat. “I can give you something to wear to go home in, but don’t ever come back here again. This is over, understand?”
After a few seconds of silence, you nodded your head slowly. “I understand.” With a sly smile, you turned, heading for the door, letting Five get a nice long look at your ass in the process. As you reached for the doorknob, you glanced over your shoulder, relishing in his bewilderment as you walked right out the door without a stitch of clothing on.
Out in the hallway, you tried not to panic. You hadn’t really thought out what was going to happen once you had committed to your little act of rebellion. Your apartment was on the other side of the floor, and you had to pass by many nosy neighbors’ places plus the elevators to get there. As you considered your options, your back was suddenly slammed into the wall, Five’s hands gripping your arms again after he appeared in a flash of blue.
“God damn it,” he seethed in your face.
Without another word, you were being ripped through one of his portals, reappearing inside his apartment again. You let out a small cry of surprise as you were flattened against the door, Five’s body pressed against yours.
He surveyed your face one more time, his eyebrows drawn together in torment. “Fuck, why did you do this to me?”
The next few minutes were a blur as Five released everything that he had been holding back in one ferocious attack. His mouth sucking and biting at your lips, his hands fisted tightly in your hair, and his hips jerking into you. Something feral and instinctual was propelling him, and you let him unleash all of it onto you.
With another tight hold on your wrist, you were dragged away from the door and whipped through a second portal, this time landing on his bed with a hard bounce. While you scrambled to sit up, Five had stripped off his shirt and was already unbuckling his belt, the clink of the metal drawing your attention to his hands as they unzipped his fly. Breathing hard through his nose, he looked at you, running a hand through his hair while pushing it off of his forehead.
With his cool green eyes locked on yours, he crooked a finger at you, beckoning you over. You worked your way off the bed, hesitating for just a moment, before closing the few feet so that you were standing directly in front of him.
He leaned down, a hand gently cradling the back of your neck, as he kissed you softly. You thought maybe you were going to see a new, tender side of him. Until he latched a hand onto your shoulder, gripping you hard while pushing you roughly down, forcing you to your knees. As he glared down at you, dark hair framing the sharp angles of his face, one corner of his mouth twitched up.
“You talk a big game, honey, so go ahead. Let’s see that mouth of yours in action.”
He was trying to intimidate you; to show you he was the boss. But you weren’t naïve and you weren’t dumb. There were subtle hints, like the way his breath hitched when he spoke to you, or the slight tremble in his hand as he guided your face up by your chin that gave his nerves away.
With your own small smile and a lick of your lips, you reached up to pull the black suit pants down, taking his boxers with them. Five let out a shaky exhale as his hard cock stood at attention in front of your face. With another coy glance up through soft lashes, you took him into your hand. He was bigger than you would have guessed, and you slowly stroked his thick shaft, pressing your thumb into the underside while following the vein from base to head. When you stretched out your tongue to give a kittenish lick across the tip, he hissed loudly, bringing his hand down to rest in your hair.
“Shit,” you heard him mutter under his breath as you started in.
He didn’t let you work up to it with teasing kisses or circles of your tongue around his dripping head. With one shove of his hand on the back of your head, his dick was down your throat. You let out a clipped groan that ended in a gurgling noise, before he was pulling you back and off again. With eyes wide and already gasping for air, your hair was tugged backward so that you were forced to look up at him.
An eyebrow raised, Five questioned you with a low voice. “Still think you can handle me?”
From your position on the floor, he towered above you like a god, watching as you worshiped at his feet. Your eyes traveled over his sculpted abs, his toned arms and shoulders that flexed with the effort of holding your head back. You took in the scars that dotted his abdomen and thighs; the line of soft hair that trailed from his navel to the main event. He was being rough, yes, but there was something in his eyes that gave him away. Like he wanted so badly to be something else, he just didn’t know how.
You nodded your head in an answer to his question, as his magnificent cock bobbed in front of your face, and you opened your mouth wide.
“Fuck,” he growled from deep in his chest.
Five was losing his mind, he was sure of it. All of his pent-up anger and frustration over his body/mind/age situation was coming to a head; and he was shoving that head directly and violently down your throat. He couldn’t stop it. He didn’t want to stop it. You felt so damn good, with your warm mouth wrapped around him and your tongue sliding over the taught skin of his shaft. As his hips jerked into your face, harder and faster, he watched as you gagged and choked on his dick; saliva building up at the corners of your mouth as you so dutifully let him fuck your face.
“Ah…ffff-uu-goddamnit…yes, fuck yes, don’t stop…ah SHIT!”
His head was thrown back in complete bliss as he unloaded copious amounts of cum directly into the back of your throat, the sheer volume making it pour out the corners of your mouth and dribble down your chin. The rest you swallowed, choking down the steady stream of bitter semen while he moaned above you and fisted your hair even tighter.
As he finally began to relax and the last few twitches of his hips came to a halt, he dared to open his eyes and look down at the sight below him. He had loosened his grip on your hair, allowing his dick to slip out of your mouth. You gasped and sucked in the much-needed air that you hadn’t been getting as he released you entirely. Collapsing onto your hands and knees, you coughed and wiped at your destroyed mouth while Five did nothing more than stare down at you with a kind of horrified fascination.
What had he done?
When you looked back up at him, though, and he saw that devilish smile sneak across your lips, daring him to give you more, he stopped caring. It was clear you were going to let him do whatever he wanted. And, fuck, if he didn’t want to do so many things to you.
“Up,” he commanded, still trying to catch his breath.
He held out his hand for you to take, letting him haul you up to standing. He ran a hand down your cheek and kissed your ruined lips. There was that moment of softness again, and you closed your eyes against his touch.
Five guided you so that you were sitting on the edge of the bed. After another kiss, this time leaving you breathless, he dropped to his knees between your legs. Gripping your thighs in his hands, he roughly pushed your legs apart while pulling you closer to him.
Digging his fingers into your hips, he buried his face into your wet, throbbing pussy, and moaned.
“This wet just from sucking my cock? Fuck, honey, you’re driving me crazy.”
Alternating between long laps with his tongue and sucking at your clit, it was obvious he knew exactly what he was doing as you leaned backward, holding yourself up with your hands flat on the bed. When you dropped your head back, it banged against the wall, but you barely noticed since you were already on the cusp of a strong orgasm.
“Five…” you gasped, eyes clenched shut and biting at your bottom lip. You tried desperately to rock your hips into his face, but his grip was too strong. He was devouring you; eating you out almost viciously, while your palms began to sweat as they pressed harder into the bed. “Five…holy fff-uck…OH GOD!” you screamed as one last, perfect lick sent you reeling. With your entire body shuddering, Five only went at you harder; until you were letting out quiet, pitiful cries, and your thighs twitched against his head.
As you tried to catch your breath, Five finally let up, tearing himself away from your warm deliciousness, and standing up to lean over you. He was just as out of breath as you were, with his mouth shining and lips red. A mixture of your arousal and his saliva pooled obscenely underneath you.
“That was…holy shit…” you tried to get out, but you were cut off almost immediately.
“I’m not done yet. Not by a long shot,” he rasped.
Though only minutes had passed since he had unloaded into your mouth, his cock was hard again. As he rummaged around in a drawer, pulling out a condom, and rolling it on, you scooted back so that you were lying down lengthwise on the bed. There was no more time for rest, though, before Five was climbing on top of you, that look of voracity overtaking him again.
He began to kiss you; hard and insistently while running his tongue over your bottom lip and venturing inside. It was a mixture of intense want and hesitation as he squeezed your ass with one hand and lightly stroked your hair with the other. When he pulled back, he looked deep into your eyes, his hand coming to rest gently on your cheek, his thumb pressing under your chin.
“What do you think, sweetheart? Ready for more?”
With a slow smile forming on your face, you nodded.
“Fuck yeah. Give it to me.”
Five groaned, closing his eyes and dropping his face to your neck. His teeth scraped against your skin as he kissed you fervently while your fingers threaded through his hair. The second you opened your legs for him, he was shoving himself inside. Sucking in a loud breath, he buried his face into your shoulder.
“Fuuuck…you are tight…god, you feel so fucking good,” he moaned pitifully into you.
You threw your head back against the pillow with a loud moan. “Oh my god, I knew your dick would feel amazing.”
He didn’t respond, but he took both of your legs and balanced them on his shoulders, angling your hips up to push his dick in even further. He was buried to the hilt, with his tight balls slapping against your ass each time he drew back and slammed back into you.
Five was gone; completely lost inside his own debauched fantasy. He wanted to fuck you harder and harder until you couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to make you cry out his name while your back arched off the bed like you were possessed. When his eyes met yours, with the strands of hair stuck to his forehead from the sweat already forming there, you bit your bottom lip and smiled. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, and that made him want to absolutely ruin you.
Smacking your ass hard enough to leave a mark before throwing your legs off his shoulders, Five roughly flipped you over. He forced the side of your face into the bed as he thrust inside you again, stretching your pussy and filling you up with his thick cock. His ragged breath warmed the side of your neck with each punishing drive of his hips against your ass as you whimpered softly.
“Come on, honey, let’s hear it,” he snarled next to your ear. “You’ve been dying for me to pound that sweet little pussy…so let me hear you. I’m not stopping until I get what I want.”
“Fff-iiive,” you sobbed, your fists clutching the bedspread underneath you as he railed relentlessly into you.
“That’s right,” he answered, and you could hear that cocky smirk on his face. “Beg me.”
“Five…please…you feel SO…FUCKING…GOOD!”
The angle of his cock thrusting inside of you, along with his body trapping you beneath him, was more intense than anything you had ever experienced before. You were on the verge of coming; your cries becoming louder while you desperately tried to suck air into your lungs. The sting of his dick drilling inside of you was still not enough to mask the pleasure that was building. It hurt but you still wanted more.
Soon, that inevitable feeling of warmth and tightness formed in your core and you let go with a loud scream that echoed off the walls of his bedroom. Your body convulsed under his as his hips stilled against your ass when he expelled himself one more time. The groan that left him as he came was loud and long, leaving his arms shaking as he held himself over you.
After he was able to move off of you, you continued to catch your breath as you rolled over to face him. Five was kneeling on the bed, chest glistening with sweat and heaving as he flipped his hair out of his eyes. He didn’t say a word, but after a few more seconds, he climbed off the bed to dispose of the condom. You eyed him nervously. You had no idea how he was going to react, or if he was already regretting everything.
After tugging his boxers back on, he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Are you ok?” he asked, his voice tight.
You nodded and sat up. “Yeah, I’m ok, why?”
Five shook his head. “I was way too rough, I shouldn’t have…but you…” he trailed off, his frustration with himself evident. “Look, you got your way. This is done now, alright?”
With a roll of your eyes, you moved off the bed so that you were standing in front of him; the muscles in your sticky thighs aching from the movement. “Get over yourself, Five. We both wanted this, so stop pretending I put some spell on you to make you change your mind.”
He was silent, but he nodded, a brief flicker of a smile forming on his lips. “I’m sorry about your clothes.” He got up to grab a t-shirt from one of his drawers and handed it to you. “You can wear this; it should be enough to cover everything.”
As you worked the too-big shirt over your head, Five pulled his pants back on, zipping them up but leaving the belt hanging open. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a small, balled up pair of women’s underwear. With a guilty smile, he tossed them over to you. “Here.”
You laughed in disbelief. “You stole my panties? What were you going to do with them?”
Five shrugged. “I hadn’t figured that out yet.”
Shaking your head, you looked down at them in your hand. “Such a dirty old man.” Glancing back at Five’s guilty face, you threw them back, and he caught them against his chest. “Keep them. I kind of like the idea of you doing weird things with them.”
Five made no comment, but he tucked them back into his pants pocket with a lop-sided grin. He held out his hand. “Come on, I’ll blink you back to your apartment so you don’t have to go back in just a t-shirt.”
You thought for a second, but shook your head. “No thanks. I don’t mind a good walk of shame now and then.”
As Five walked you to the door, you gave him a lingering kiss and trailed a hand down his arm. “Maybe the next time I make too much food, I’ll come over and share it? Think you can handle that?”
A smile slowly spread across Five’s face and he nodded. “Yeah, I think I can handle that.”
Then he watched as you walked away, wearing nothing but his t-shirt. He shook his head, not quite believing what had just occurred. He had thought he was so damn smart with his moral high-ground and superiority. But as it turned out, you had gotten the best of him. He lost at his own game. Tucking two fingers inside his pocket to stroke the silky material of your panties, he smiled to himself, thinking about how this may have been the first time in his life that he hadn’t minded losing.
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yzzart · 5 months ago
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── ⋆。𖦹°‧ DO YOU LOVE WHEN I CALL YOU THAT? .ᐟ
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୭˚. ᵎᵎ content warnings: F!reader, 18+, Kenji referring to reader as his wife and being a fucking tease, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, teasing, touching, explicit words, explicit content.
Probably, in fact, there were many possibilities, the noises of the bed squeaking against the wall, even though it was made of excellent material, could be heard from outside the room; accompanied by moans, obscene noises and some indecent words. — But who would be able to complain about that?
Inside the room, a dimly lit environment but still showing silhouettes, all the noises and noises mentioned were more intense, powerful and lively, in addition to the sound of flesh struggling against each other; becoming much more than wanton and immoral. — And much tastier.
"I love eating that beautiful pussy." — His warm breath brushes your reddened cheek and is a little wet from thin tears, while you whimper when you feel his thick tip poking that sensitive and delicate spot. — "And you know a lot about that, don't you?" — A question, unanswerable, mixed with a grunt, moan came from Kenji's bold lips.
He dragged his mouth, uttering sinful praises and hoarse hums, along your chin and, at the same time, ran wet, sloppy kisses on your skin and leaned in to admire your reactions and expressions, showing an immense, intense, satisfaction and pleasure, almost becoming exulting; the immense wave of pleasure became agonizing, almost unbearable.
"Is that ok, my love?" — He asked, closing his eyes, for a few seconds, it almost became a growl, something so skittish when he felt your nails being dug into his back. — "Pf, look at those claws…" — Kenji murmured with a hoarse laugh, a shameless smile pulling at his lips, thinking about the thick, reddish lines that will decorate his back later.
"Ken..ji!" — Desperately, the only thing that was going through your mind was his name and nothing else, not even your conscience or notion, even respect for yourself, punctuated your little head. — "Mm, please, please."
"Oh, my beautiful wife." — Moving his mouth to your ears, scraping his teeth on the earlobe, Sato's words came out, satisfyingly, in a fascinating way, more than sensual and so impudent; performing an unsurprising action at the same time so libertine of you. — "Holy shit, damn…?"
Immediately, in a matter of agile and apprehensible seconds, after directing you with that statement, during his rhythm, Kenji felt your warm, inner walls squeezing, possessively, slyly and exaltedly, his cock; more moans, cunning and drawn-out meows came out of your lips, with your nails, eminently, stuck to the older's skin. — He felt your body softer, needier, in shock after his words, which left him intrigued, yearning.
Who could have imagined?
"Ah, you love it when i call you that." — He spoke, seriously, but with a little grace, ecstatic with what he had just felt and witnessed. Kenji's bold tongue flicked across his cheek, the taste of your sweat transferred to his palate, and he placed a soft bite on the apple of your cheek. — "My wife." — Sato moved his hips, moving away from the intimate and erotic contact, keeping the tip at your entrance, and then diving into your pussy again; highlighting a delightful and pleasurable thrust, once again reaching your sensitive spot.
"My beautiful, beautiful wife.
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itachiiwrites · 2 months ago
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Love me, love me, love me, love me more!
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Pairing: Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader
Warnings and Content: MDNI (I'll haunt you, seriously), yandere themes, implied consent, stalking, obsession, murder, gore, sex, delusional satoru, he's unhinged and does not care about consequences as usual, creampies (lots), gojo has a breeding kink, masturbation, perv gojo, sex, fingering. Dead dove.
Plot : Megumi has a new nanny and Satoru is so so..lovesick.
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Yandere!Satoru knew he fumbled the moment he fell in love with Megumi's nanny. He had hired you because he couldn't provide for the time and sufficient emotional care that a second grader needed to be a normal person. After all that the boy went through and then being under care of someone like him, Satoru didn't think that his Gumi-chan would ever be normal.
But then he met you, you were everything he was not. Gojo Satoru was impulsive, eccentric, the strongest, he shone so brightly that the sun was put to shame. And you were so normal, so mundane, you simply seemed to blend in with everyone like a lovely, plain chrysanthemum that could mix in with every bouquet.
there was truly nothing special about you in comparison to him.
Perhaps that was why he found you so beautiful. You weren't complicated, you were too simple and perhaps this absence of simplicity was what made his fast paced, glorious life so lack luster.
He knew he had to have you.
One thing you realised about Yandere!Satoru is that, he is a child in a grown man's body. You had seen him being much more petulant than Megumi, but with time your surmises around him had reduced and your edges had softened. You would see the flash of tiredness in his eyes sometimes, something about those azures in those moments would tell you a piece of his story. You didn't ask a lot but you knew. He was tired.
Being a full-time nanny to Megumi also meant, keeping meal preps ready. It had become a habit to put together a few extras after noticing that Gojo would often make it a point to eat them. He probably ate it, dead in the night when he was back from his daily missions. No one witnessed his joy of eating a homecooked meal at 3AM.
Yandere!Satoru who would take the advantage of your softened demeanor towards him and flirt with you shamelessly even after seeing the ring adorned on your pretty little finger. He kept affirming to himself that it wasn't real and whatever he would imagine, would materialize to be true.
"You do a terrific job, looking after Megumi you know?" He'd muse, in the usual teasing tone of his as his hand trails to your chin, gently tipping your head up so you'd look into his eyes and his eyes only, his gaze intense and unwavering.
"I can't help but wonder if there is room in your heart for me too~"
But then his playful demeanor would drop away when his eyes would fall onto that pathetic, miserly looking gold band after you'd tell him to stop flirting with you with finality in your tone. That ring wasn't even high in carats, it was an alloy and yet you would it wear it such pride. It would tug at his heartstrings, his darling deserved so much better.
"I see, didn't realize that, miss.." He lied through his teeth with such insouciance and a smirk, masking his disappointment as if even a petite speck on your arm would be amiss with his six eyes
Yandere!Satoru, who was never religious but started obsessively manifesting you after learning about your husband. What a hassle. Why couldn't he just have you, like everything else in his life?
Yandere!Satoru who would think of you riding him to tears, closing his eyes to conjure the lewd image of your tits bouncing as he fucked you upward, anchoring his large hands on your waist. All while zestfully fisting his cock, wrapped like a gift with your cute pink panties that he quite subtly stole when you were staying over to care for Megumi for a few days because he had to fly somewhere else to tackle off a special grade curse, substituted for the warmth of your velvety walls. For now.
Yandere!Satoru who knew you had no clue that he teleported from the location far away just to steal your panties.
Yandere!Satoru who also knew that you had no idea that he had tapped in your phone, having his hawking watch over who you texted and talked to.
Yandere!Satoru who couldn't be nonchalant anymore the minute he saw you texting your husband as you watched over Megumi, on how badly you wanted a baby after being a nanny to the young boy. That was his job, you were his, afterall.
Yandere!Satoru who felt angry and stupid because manifesting you didn't work. He knew he could never trust the higher powers with the people he loved so he took the matter in his own hands.
Yandere!Satoru who stood over your husband's dead body, ripped to shreds when you returned home. The worries of your husband not texting you back for hours now washed with horror and pain.
His handsome, angelic face was unnervingly calm and composed, his blue eyes amalgamated with mania and hollowness while he held her husband's filthy heart in his bloodied hands, a scowl of disgust washing over his face as he looked at the organ, darting his eyes at you almost pitifully, crushing it in a glimpse before walking to you.
"What a shame..your husband was quite bothersome, wouldn't you say? I had to take out the trash, y'know..got sick of him getting in the way" He'd speak in a smooth, saccharinely affectionate tone that you knew was empty. He ignored the shock laced on your face, the paleness of your skin, the fear in your eyes and your flinch which he found oh so..adorable, as he caressed your cheek with the strong metallic scent of crimson lingering.
"Let's play a game!" He brightly smiled, clapping his hands together which made you furrow your brows, a dry gulp going down your throat. The room only filled with the momentary sounds of his footsteps and your shaky, palpable breathing.
"The game is...name things you love about Gojo Satoru!!" He chimed, so happily that it sent a shiver down your spine, insinuating nausea.
"S-stay away..."
He frowned, titling his head as his empty eyes bored into yours.
"Wrong answer darling..the answer is Satoru, isn't it..?" He leaned in, cupping your face and tenderly kissing your lips.
Yandere!Satoru who teleported you two immediately to his estate as he pulled away from the kiss, your back hitting the silk sheets that screamed luxury.
Yandere!Satoru who would see you giving in to his gentle kisses all over your body, who'd feel your pulsating guilt and shame in your eyes while your pussy pulsated with pleasure having his fingers in your gushing cunt knuckles deep.
"Why did you say no to me, hm..? You're milking my fingers baby..fuuuck...I love you so much.." He whispered while his face nuzzled into your cheek. His hot breath mingled with phrases of love felt so gross, so filthy, so sinful but you saw yourself liking it, even after seeing your husband in such a state.
Yandere!Satoru, who'd dump his cum again in your oozing pussy even when his cock felt raw after kissing your cervix so many times, painting it white. Now finally pulling out with a squelch, he immediately replaced his two thick fingers to push his load back in.
"You're gonna be such a pretty mama baby..I will make your wish come true.."
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©𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐢𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬
Plagiarism not authorised. Please consider reblogging and liking if you enjoyed the content :)
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hargreeves-duncan · 4 months ago
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Can I request five x reader (takes place in s2) where reader (five’s partner) gets sent to Dallas around a year before five comes and after he does and reader sees him, she immediately tackles him on the spot and gives him many kisses. Maybe reader manages to work at a casino too
a/n: hi, thank you so much for your request! i haven’t written in a while so i'd love to hear your thoughts, enjoy!!
summary: it's been far too long since you've seen your boyfriend - he learns that the affectionate way.
warnings: reader works at a casino but there’s no actual gambling so🤷‍♀️
word count: 1.4k
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You had to hand it to yourself, for someone who’d known next to nothing about life in the 1960s, you’d adapted pretty well. In no time at all, you’d managed to land yourself a job as a waitress in a casino. A very good one. It seemed in this timeline, Jack Ruby thought a casino would be a better investment than a night club - and for your part, you couldn’t say that he was wrong, nor could you complain.
The hours were long, but the pay was good enough and the other girls had taken you in as one of their own. You quickly began to excel. Strolling between the tables and flashing smiles was easy, second nature even. You developed the wit and charisma to charm the casino’s patrons without second thought, which meant you got more drinks served, more loyal customers and bigger tips to go along with them. 
Most nights the new life you’d built for yourself was more than enough but sometimes, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t help but yearn for what had come before - who had come before.
There was always a dull ache in your chest whenever you caught a fleeting glimpse of a lone, brown-haired man at one of the tables. In those moments, you could never stop yourself from believing for a slither of a second that Five had made it and he’d come right back to you.
You’d waited for him in that dingy, old alley for two weeks straight, because you knew that Five would never abandon his family like that. That something must’ve gone wrong, but it was okay because he’d come back and everything would be fine. That was what you told yourself. You were so sure he’d show up and solve everything in an instant, because that was what he always did. And when he hadn’t, it had almost destroyed you.
The first few months were gruelling, taking your first steps in the new world had taken a while. Grieving Five had taken longer. The obvious truth was staring you in the face. A year without contact from him or any of the other Hargreeves siblings? The probability was that you were the only one who had survived.
It was a truth that you were reluctant to admit, even now. One that led you to where you are today, starting yet another night shift, beside the casino’s bar, to serve a particularly rowdy Friday night crowd of patrons.
As you begin to set up, Mary-Anne, one of the other waitresses on shift, sidles up to you. Her honey-blonde curls bouncing around her ears as she leans against the bar. Trying to stifle her laugh, in her southern drawl, she says, “Has he tried talking to you yet?”
You raise an eyebrow at her, tilting your head to the side, “Has who tried talking to me yet?”
Her grin grows wider as she gestures to a table on the far corner of the room, laughing, “That little boy. Haven’t I said a million times that we oughta get tighter on the security in this place?”
She sighs, resting her hands on her hips, “I went over to him - trying to tell him that we don’t allow minors in here - and what’d he do?”
Deciding to humour her, you smile, looking down at her, “I’ve got no idea, tell me.”
She scoffs, shaking her head as she smiles, “He told me that he more than knew his way around place a place like this and that I had nothing to worry about with him. Can you imagine having the nerve like that at his age?”
The thought made you laugh. It reminded you of Five. His haggard temper in the body of his younger self always seemed to shock people in the very same way. You paused. It couldn’t be him, couldn’t it? You must be jumping to conclusions. After all this time, it’d make no sense if he was here now and yet…
“He said that?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing as you glance between the table and Mary-Anne. You squint, trying to see if you could recognise him.
A part of you felt silly and girlish for still holding out hope but this kid’s description was just too similar and besides, you were a teenager again, you were allowed to be lovesick and entirely delusional. It was practically your god-given right.
Mary-Anne nodded, loading her tray up with drinks of all shapes and sizes to cover her half of the room, “He did.”
Your eyes were locked onto the distant table, practically pleading for the kid to just turn around and let your hopes down already. Still, all that greeted you was the back of his head and the green fuzz of the poker table in front of him.
When you didn’t tear your eyes away, Mary-Anne looked you up and down, her baby blue eyes swimming with concern, “You alright there?”
Looking back at her, you sigh, already pent up at the possibility of Five being so close, “Yeah, I just… What did he look like?” You ask tentatively, biting your rouge-tinted, bottom lip between your teeth.
Mary-Anne hums in thought as she loads your tray for you, “Gosh, I don’t know - he had dark hair, was wearing a suit. It had the funniest, little emblem on it.” She says, tapping her chest in place of where it would’ve been.
Your eyes widen in shock and excitement as you process her words, “An umbrella! It was an umbrella, wasn’t it?”
Mary-Anne grins, giggling, “It was… how’d you know that?”
You couldn’t even answer her. You were already starting to tremble and hyperventilate, entirely overcome with nerves and joy and pure, unbridled excitement all at once. A year of being apart and now he was no more than a few strides away. Your smile brightens up like no other.
You slip your tray from over your head and place it down on the bar as you say, “Hey, cover for me, would you? I’ll be two seconds.”
Without waiting for her answer, you dash across the room - a flurry of giddiness bubbling up inside of you the closer you get. You tousle your hair and straighten your uniform, anything to keep your anxious fingers busy and to better yourself for something you’ve waited for for far too long.
Hearing heels coming towards him again, Five sighs in frustration and turns around in his chair, “Lady, I already told you-“
The breath feels like it’s been stolen from your throat as he turns to face you. It’s really, truly him. Your boyfriend is right there in front of you and you’ve never felt more relief than in this moment.
“Y/N.”
You’re not sure if you want to cry or scream or simply just take him in for the first time all over again. As you look over him, his piercing gaze, his dark hair and the freckle on his right cheek that you can’t count the number of times you’ve kissed, your eyes can’t help but be drawn to his lips.
God, how you’ve missed the feeling of them. You barely have time to think about what you’re doing before you’re cupping his face and pressing your lips against his once more, savouring every part of him in a way you’d never thought to before.
Your hands trail over every callous in his skin, memorising him with your fingertips, and as you pull back, Five’s gaze softens like nothing else as he smirks, “Hello, you.”
His hands reach out to cup your face, gazing over you as if he’s not entirely sure that you’re real. After all your time apart, you’re not sure either. You smile, nodding, “It’s me. It’s you. You’re here, you’re really here!”
You cup his face in return and you can’t help but press another kiss to his lips. He smiles fondly as you do. And so you kiss him again… and again on his cheek… and on his freckle… his chin… his forehead. Everywhere your lips can reach, you press them.
After a moment, he laughs weakly and reaches up to pull your hands away from his face and intertwines them with his own fingers instead, “Okay, love.” He says chasteningly, “Let’s calm down there, shall we?”
Your smile grows shyer as you right yourself, “Sorry.” You say, brushing your hair away from your face.
He shakes his head, brushing your hair back for you and then guiding you by the waist to the seat beside him, “No, don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry. Believe me, I’m just as happy to see you. Really.”
It’s him who initiates the kiss this time. He’s soft, delicate almost, in the way that he kisses you, as if each movement of his lips is a new way of giving all of his love to you and promising that he won’t ever let you out of his sights again.
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sttoru · 11 months ago
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toji never celebrates his birthday and thus learned to treat it as any other regular day. well, until you came into the picture and did the unexpected.
☀︎|tags. dom!toji fushiguro x female reader. smut mixed with fluff & sprinkle of angst. implied age gap (reader early 20’s, toji late 20’s /early 30’s) implied size difference, p in v -> unprotected, cowgirl position, toji actually being a soft dom kinda, praise mixed with tiny bit of degradation, slight corruption kink, dirty talk / teasing, biting, creampie, reader gets called ‘princess, little girl \\ pretty, innocent, small'. not beta read. happy bday hubby!
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“i told ya — fuck jus’ like that — not to buy or do anythin’ for me on m’birthday.” toji’s head lolls back against the pillow while his rough palms explore every inch of your gorgeous body. the word ‘birthday’ rolls off his tongue in a bitter manner. the assassin never celebrates that dreadful day, as he calls it.
he’s never found it to be worth remembering. his family couldn’t care less about that day when he was a child, so why would he?
but, that changed when you came into his life. toji flinched when he heard a loud ‘pop!’ sound upon opening the front door to his apartment. he was used to those noises being one of danger and thus swiftly reached for the spare weapon in his pocket. . . only to notice you standing behind the door with a party popper and a homemade cake.
the older man froze in place for a good few seconds, though was quick to realise the situation and relax. after the initial shock died down, you excitedly dragged him off to the living room to show him the presents you bought.
toji's first reflex was to scold you for spending money on him. he had never gotten anything for his birthday—it was weird to finally receive something from someone who actually cares for him. it somehow made him feel guilty as well. was he worth spending money on?
toji’s impressed reactions when unwrapping the presents showed you exactly how foreign the moment was to him: he’s never opened any gifts before. that much was even more evident after witnessing his inexperience in peeling off the tape from the boxes.
eventually, after opening around seven gifts, toji got to unwrap his final present. the present which was you.
the way you innocently yet seductively whispered words of affection in his ears made his mind go blank. even if it were simple ‘i love you’s and ‘happy birthday’ wishes. the red dress you had on and how your figure looked in it made everything ten times more sexual to the assassin. anything after that was a complete blur. his body moved on its own and yours followed right after until you finally landed on top of him — riding him.
toji’s half-lidded eyes couldn’t get enough of the sight he's witnessing. maybe his birthday wasn't such a bad day after all; the loving memories you're currently creating would surely outbalance the negative ones.
you shake your head at toji’s earlier sentence and tighten your grip on his shoulders, nails lightly digging into his skin and leaving faint red marks. you almost can’t talk due to the overexertion—your hips continuously rising and falling back down for the sake of your lover, “i- mph, wanted to get you all those things. you deserve them, toji.”
the view of your small body trying its hardest to not give in to its need of an orgasm made the assassin dizzy. his large hands settle on your waist and his eyes watch your every move from behind his black bangs. toji silently hisses as he feels your tight cunt clenching around him, “. . . f-shit. easy there.”
your pretty face is his weakness. especially when your usual innocent look gets replaced by one filled with carnal desire. toji can easily get off to the idea of him having that effect on you—his words, body, looks and actions that corrupted your every being in intimate moments like these.
“such a sweet thing,” the dark-haired man coos, brushing the stray locks of hair away from your face with his index finger. his other hand rubs up and down your inner thigh, each time getting dangerously closer to your clit, though never getting a single touch in. the scarred corner of his lips twitch in an amused grin at your whines, “oh? want me to touch you there, princess? that what ya want?”
you nod without a second thought. you were trying your best to hold out for as long as your body allowed it — desperately wanting to reach your climax at the same time toji was going to — but the idea seems impossible the longer this continued.
your boyfriend grins smugly, raising his eyebrows before entirely removing his hands from your body. his arms rest behind his head as he reverts to simply enjoying the view of you riding him so well. toji can never not be mean to you. your little pouts only drive him to tease you more and more, “hm, well, ya see - i thought you were gonna spoil me today, not the other way around.”
“t-toji! tha's mean. . .” you huff, bottom lip trembling. your arms circle his neck and your upper body leans forward to rest against his chiseled chest. you stop your hip thrusts and instead grind against his pelvis, trying to stimulate your clit on your own.
toji clicks his tongue, but figured it was best to leave you be. he didn't want to be too rough on you today - you had been nothing but sweet to him the entire night. you had blessed him with his first, proper birthday experience as well.
“aww, my little girl ‘s pouting,” the older man snickers and his hands return to their place. he allows you to grind against him, the sensations being amazing for him as well. the tip of his cock almost reaches your cervix from the current angle and your bodily fluids smear all over his thighs and lower abdomen, “shh shh, ‘tis alright.”
your needy whines and moans are music to his ears. toji rubs your lower back and pats your ass every now and then, squeezing the soft flesh gently just to hear another whimper spill from your lips. there was no way you could hold back now. especially when your bodies were rubbing together and you could feel toji’s defined abs and hardened muscles underneath you.
“toji - nngh - can i? wan' — wanna cum.” your small hands tighten their grip around his broad shoulders. you earn a low, breathy chuckle from your lover. the increasing sensations in his lower stomach were an indication to how close he was to his orgasm as well. he wasn’t going to deny you any further.
toji sighs in content and presses a soft kiss to your temple, thumb rubbing your cheek gently. it was a rare occurence to see that vulnerable and affectionate look in his piercing green eyes. the little smile plastered on his face only added to the soft and intimate atmosphere.
. . . well, toji wouldn’t be toji if he wasn’t going to add catch you off guard in any way or form. your eyes widen and your body jolts forward as he suddenly starts putting work in—his hips ramming into yours from below, the skin-to-skin sounds resonating throughout the room once again. it was like the wind got knocked out of you for a good second, “fuck! w-wait, toji! tojitojitoji!”
the older man holds tightly onto you — cradling you in his arms as he lightly lifts your hips to have free reign over the pace and movements of your two bodies — thrusting up into you over and over. he lets out a series of small, silent groans as he feels his climax nearing;
“shit, yeah - ‘m gonna stuff this pussy of y’rs full, princess.” toji's callused fingers curl around your hip bones, using them as leverage to increase the intensity of his thrusts, “think you can take it all?”
you mewl and nod again and again. you’re on the brink of tears when the waves of pleasure reach their peak. your eyes roll back and your body convulses, legs shaking and squirming during those few seconds of pure bliss. your adorable babble in the form of toji’s name was all your lover needed to push him over the edge—
“fuck. ‘m gonna cum,” toji groans and firmly bites your shoulder to hold back any more noises when he finally decided to let go. a choked sob leaves your lips the instant you feel the hot spurts of cum seeping into your senstive cunt. the older man continues to thrust in and out sloppily, riding out his orgasm and fucking his cum deeper into you at the same time, “so good — i love you s’much.”
you smile exhaustedly at the love confession from your boyfriend. toji’s grip on you loosens up after he completely emptied his balls deep inside your cunt, his jaw finally unclenching. he plants a few wet kisses along the bite marks on your shoulder in attempt to soothe the pain.
you catch your breath as you rest on top of toji's body. he didn't put the slightest effort into pulling out of you — even as a tiny puddle of your mixed juices stains his skin.
“i love you too, toji,” you reply and earn another lazy kiss to your forehead. he rubs the back of your head and massages your plush thighs in a tender manner. nothing could make this moment even more perfect, you thought to yourself.
you smile as you pull your head back to look into toji’s eyes. he was already looking at you — admiring your gorgeous looks as you basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking. you capture his lips in a delicate kiss, “happy birthday.”
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ek-ranjhaan · 4 months ago
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She has not just been raped and murdered, she was very much tortured and brutalized like Nirbhaya. It is all over the Bengali news. I don't understand why no one is talking about this.
A 2nd year Respiratory Medicine in a well known government medical college in Kolkata, West Bengal, India is found in a semi-naked state and the college/ hospital called it a suicide.
I'm a MBBS student in second year. After reading about her, what crossed my mind is the amount of times she would have felt this fear, before this worst fear of hers eventually materialized.
"A young resident doctor was found dead in the seminar room of her medical college in Kolkata. Initial autopsy report suggests possible rape and murder."
As all are saying,
She wasn't walking the street at odd hours. She wasn't wearing clothes that were provocative. She wasn't loitering in dangerous neighbourhoods.
She was a resident doctor, looking for a place to rest in her own hospital.
She had been on duty and had gone to rest in the early hours of Friday.
The one place which was supposed to guarantee her safety failed her, miserably.
Someone comes, rapes a female pg who is merely resting in a seminar hall because there is no proper place for her to rest, brutalized her and kills her. How did NO one know? The college and police initially call it a suicide. Excuse me? It is also being said that under pressure from local politicians, the Principal and Dean attempted to alter the post-mortem report. Autopsy confirms sexual assault.
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What are the actions taken? One man arrested because his behavior seemed "shady". This is clearly not an act of one man. And this was a very well aware of and a well executed criminal act.
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Also, all this happening in WB right when the situation of bangladesh is in turmoil and news of Bangladeshi Hindus being killed and tortured, seems wrong, VERY WRONG. Happening right before NEET-PG, as 24 lakh doctors prepare to write an exam on Sunday to be resident doctors, this news has wrapped us all in agony and rage,
What are they working so hard for? Why should they aspire to be in a system that ignores their basic needs? The minimum requirement of a workplace is safety. That should be non-negotiable.
This profession demands extereme hardwork, a lot of mental strength and Physical Assaults, harassment, low paying jobs with odd working hours with intense humiliation. Now its the worst of all seeing a bright mind losing her life in the most disrespectful state of all. This should never happen to any woman.
I'd also like to question why isn't any big media house covering this news, where are all the international news channels all this time.
What are the students in other medical colleges doing? This talks about their own safety and lives. What are the medical students across the world doing? It's time for us to stand for the most basic Human right, safety.
Yesterday when my roommate, an MBBS final year intern was heading for her night posting, I feared and prayed for her to come back safely. Thinking about it, in a few years I will also have night posting, I'll also return from my hospital duties late at night. I'll also have to go through the same fear, and I'll also have to keep praying that my worst fears don't turn into reality. So many female doctors, nursing staffs, other Healthcare workers, other working women, non-working women go through the same fear, probably multiple times a day.
It is a shame to be born in such a disgusting world and society, it is shame to witness such a brutal crime, and it is a shame to live in this fear daily.
Those RAPISTS need to be hunged infront of the whole natio...if needed burned alive. People should fear the idea of raping, more than getting raped.
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bandgie · 4 months ago
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Good Pup
human!minho x puppy!reader x puppy!seungmin
synopsis: Minho is certain that no matter how much you disagree, your new weredog friend, Kim Seungmin, is not someone he can get along with. However, they have no choice but to team up when your first heat makes its way into the night. Maybe you were right, they do get along, even if it's just a little bit.
7.3k words (damn)
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warnings! MDNI 18+, fem!reader, 3some, PIV, no protection, knotting, biting (slight blood), jealousy, bff!minho, coworker!seungmin, double penetration, heat, sex pill, pussy eating, humping (brief), super light mxm themes, minho and seungmin don't like each other
In this world, Minho thinks there are two types of people. And no, it doesn’t have anything to do with what kind of job you work or what your passion is. It doesn’t even matter if you’re a hybrid; the ones mixed with all sorts of animals with human DNA. No, none of those matter to him. People, fully human or not, all boil down to one thing.
Cats or dogs. 
See, Minho likes to think of himself as a cat person. Someone who prefers to have leisure in their own time. Someone who doesn’t need constant stimulation from people or conversations. He’s content with being alone, satisfied even. Maybe Minho doesn’t have a furry tail or pointed ears that flick at the slightest sound unlike the werecats he sees daily, but his human identity doesn't stop him from thinking of himself - or anyone for that fact - as either cat or dog.
Despite living a rather secluded life, Minho doesn’t mind the few friends he keeps close, both human and feline. He does, however, mind dogs like any cat would. They’re too noisy, too needy, and too happy for no god-damn reason. Being surrounded by so much energy drains him quickly, and although Minho likes to think of himself as a lover of all animals, dogs are just… difficult. So you being one of his closest friends is such a mystery to him.
It doesn't matter how many times you’ve seen Minho. Your tail always swishes when you see him approaching, even now through the crowd of people. It wacks the nearby pedestrians walking and you embarrassingly apologize, grabbing your shaggy tail to try and prevent it from moving. And no matter how many times Minho sees you get so giddy just by looking at him, he smiles. 
Just a little bit. 
“You’re gonna kill someone with that thing,” he says once he’s close enough. You roll your eyes at him, the complete opposite of the thumping of your tail in your grasp. “Oh shut up. You made me wait in this heat. I should kill you for that.”
“In front of all these witnesses? You’d make a terrible hitman.” Minho can tell you’re irritated even with your happy tail. Your floppy ears are down, sweat beads on your forehead, and trickles down the sides of your face. The nails on your fingers are darker and sharper than usual. He recalls you complaining about the heat, but the forecast showed cloudy skies. Minho would hardly call it a hot day, not even a warm one.
Something’s up.
But like any cat person, he doesn’t say anything about his observations. “I say we get out of the sun and into the convenience store before you start plotting my murder. I’ll pay.” It’s his way of trying to make you feel better with whatever you’re stressed about. It seems to work by your nodding. Your tail is relaxed enough for you to set it down, using the back of your hand to wipe the perspiration that drips down to your neck. “That sounds good. And you don’t have to worry about tonight. The company’s paying for the dinner and drinks.” That familiar wolfish smile finds your lips, pulling back enough to show pointy canines. 
Minho is always captivated by your mouth. The way it can twist so inhumanely from the plumpness of your lips to the sharpness of your teeth. His eyes lower just for a split second before he says, “Even for me? A plus one?”
“I’ll make sure,” you say with certainty. “They’ve been working me like a dog, no pun intended, and this is their way of making up to everyone busting their ass to make deadlines. If I don’t get my Scooby-snack, I will actually kill someone.”
That sputters a laugh from him. Minho takes his place beside you to begin your journey to the market while giggles keep spilling. “If you’re Scooby, does that make me Shaggy?” There’s still a smile on his face even when you shake your head, following his steps. “Nah. You’re more like Scrappy-Doo.”
-
Okay, there is something definitely wrong with you. Minho is well aware that weredogs enjoy being in close proximity. There have been multiple occasions of your tail tickling his arm, of your skin brushing against his while you walk. Hell, he’s even indulged in kinship by patting your head and letting his fingers caress your ears. It usually doesn’t take much for you to be satisfied with those simple touches, but today you seem…needy.
And it’s not just Minho who notices. Customers, humans and were-creatures alike, see how much you cling to him. The tail that was happily dancing half an hour ago now wraps around his torso. He can feel it against his back and he finds himself enjoying this strange hug. 
Minho would usually say something. Maybe tease you and tell you to keep your tail to yourself, but something tells him that isn't the best idea right now. 
You’re hardly talking. The yapping puppy he’s so familiar with is nowhere to be seen even though you're right next to him. Standing so close that he can feel your body heat that he swears is hotter than usual. 
Maybe he should enjoy the peace and quiet that he rarely gets with you, but Minho is itching for his pup. 
“You okay?”
There, he said it. Minho is so used to you talking without being asked to the point that he covers his ears just to drown out your words. You would whine, ears pulling down while tugging at his arms. “Listen to meee!”
But instead he has to coax it out of you this time. You pull your attention away from the snacks to look at him. “Huh? Yeah no, I’m good. I have been feeling out of it recently but I think it’s just my job. Sorry, am I being boring?”
Reassurance. One of the most common needs for a weredog. To hear that they’re needed with some praise. To put it in simple terms, you want to hear that you’re being a good girl. At this point, Minho is willing to do and say anything to get you back to normal.
“Boring? I never said that. Hanging out with you is the highlight of my week…even if your furry friend keeps smacking my back.” And just like that, your eyes shine with both happiness and embarrassment. You take back control of your tail and scold it, “Stop annoying my friend.” You swat at it gently and push it back down behind you. 
Minho doesn’t even notice his hand reaching out to pet you before he can stop it. His soft palm makes contact with your hair, ruffling it before moving to your ears.
People nearby stare but Minho hardly cares. There’s something about bystanders knowing the reason for your soft rumbling and gleeful expression is because of him. Weird want, but Minho’s heard that weredogs just have that type of effect on people. Plus, Minho’s your friend. Friends are always there to help each other out and Minho just happens to be your best.
It doesn’t take much after that to get you back to your talkative self. 
“Like, I just feel bad, ya know?” You say, reaching for a meaty sandwich in the deli section of the convenience store. “No one talks to him at work and he’s always alone at lunch. Like, yeah he has a scary face and doesn’t talk to anyone, but that doesn’t mean he’s a bad person.” A triple meat sandwich catches your attention and Minho watches your curved nails reach for the packaging. 
Minho inspects the drinks. “Maybe he has that scary face and doesn’t talk to anybody because he doesn’t want to talk to anybody.”
You roll your eyes, adding your find to the small basket looped around Minho’s arm. “Yeah, and I could say the same thing about you.” You poke his broad chest with a nail. The pain is hardly there, but Minho fakes a wounded expression and grabs his pec dramatically. “I'm bleeding!”
“Oh shut up. You’re just trying to change the subject because you know I’m right.”
“Right about what?” Minho ditches his act. “About the fact that I don’t like talking to anybody? Good job, Sherlock.” The good job makes your tail sway just slightly and Minho smiles when he sees it. 
“Oh? Then what are you doing right now with me?” You cross your arms and stare at him.
“Replying.”
“Which is…”
“Communicating.”
“And another word for that is…”
“...Moving my mouth.”
“You’re impossible.” you laugh. “Anywho, he just reminds me of how it was when we first met. You being brooding, quiet and me being awesome, of course.” The two of you venture further down the aisle. “What is it that you once told me? Something about people being dogs and cats?”
“Dogs or cats,” he corrects. “What about it?” Minho abruptly stops his steps when he sees jelly. Despite being human, you can practically see his pupils grow wide at the sight of them. 
“So based on the description I gave you, which do you think he is?”
Minho doesn’t answer immediately, can’t when his favorite dessert is quite literally on display. So many choices, so many flavors. He should buy one of each for taste testing. A couple of seconds go by before he registers your question. “Oh. Um, you said he’s like me?”
You nod, “Mhm.”
“Then cat, obviously.” Minho chooses a coffee and vanilla flavor. He imagines you’ll prefer the coffee one. When he turns to face you, he’s surprised to see that you’re smiling, as if already knowing he was going to say that. 
“But get this,” you hop on one leg to the other in weredog behavior. “He’s a were-dog! Like me! I don’t know what breed but I’ve never met a fellow pup so…cat. You might like him.”
Minho scoffs at your playful wink, “Don’t try setting me up on playdates. I’m fine with the friends I have now.”
You whine, a high-pitched noise coming from the back of your throat. It used to startle Minho, but now he’s grown accustomed to ignoring your complaints until you’re both at the counter emptying the basket. 
The cashier is a young werefox. He has slender eyes that stick out, enhancing his hard jaw and smooth skin. As if tired of the day, the said fox scans the items lazily, saying a standard, "Is that gonna be all?” before shoving the goodies in a black bag. 
“Well, whatever,” you smooth your puppy ears. “He’s gonna be at the dinner tonight, so you’re meeting him regardless.”
For some reason, the fox suddenly looks interested. He picks his head up and looks between Minho and you. He sniffs and jolts. Minho narrows his eyes, subtly tucking his head to his armpit and smelling. Does he stink? Minho’s thinking about changing his body wash when the cashier sniffs again, but his eyes lock on you instead.
In all werefox manner, the cashier shifts his gaze to Minho and gives a sly smile. “These are on the house.” He snatches a package so quickly off the counter that Minho can’t tell what it is as the cashier shoves it inside the bag. The fox slides the purchases to Minho, looking at you once more before winking, “Have fun tonight.”
Minho is quick to get you both out of there. Your ears are up straight, tail hanging loose between your legs while looking back. Since your tail isn’t tucked between your legs or abnormally stiff, Minho thinks he shouldn’t be too worried. But the encounter was strange, no matter how brief. 
“Did you know that guy?” You say once you’re waiting for Minho to unlock his car. 
He shakes his head, “Nah. Let’s just go.”
You don’t argue with that. Your ears flick at the sound of the door unlocking and you quickly find your seat inside the warm car. The image of the cashier crosses your mind and you look at Minho. “What’d he put in the bag?”
But Minho had already tossed the said bag in the backseat. He shrugs, “Don’t know. I’ll check it out when I get home.”
Short sentences, indirect messages to tell you to drop it. Minho is in his cat mood as he ignites the car to life and puts it in reserve. Normally, you’d crack a joke. Saying something to lighten the mood or change the subject, but you’re starting to feel hot all over again. Minho had just put the A/C on, but the warmth of the car has you heating up even more. You feel nauseous and Minho’s human scent plays no aid. Sometimes you get car sick and you’re assuming it’s one of those times. You close your eyes and breathe, telling yourself that you’ll feel better once you get home and take some medication.
It doesn’t matter how sick you are, you have a company dinner tonight that your best friend is attending and you’ll be damned if you missed just because of a little bug.
-
Minho is absolutely not taking his eyes off you tonight and no it’s not because of how good you look. Sure, maybe your button-up shirt stretches at the top because of how tight it is against your chest and yeah, maybe the black pencil skirt does wonders for your ass but those are not any of the reasons why Minho is watching you like a hawk. No, he’s stuck watching how you’re trying your best to pretend like you aren’t on the verge of turning into a puddle of sweat.
Even the other were-dog you mentioned earlier, Kim Seungmin, notices your strange behavior. Minho sees that his ears are up and that his tail swishes unsure. Still, none of that matters from how giddily you seem chatting it up with him. Something about managing to meet deadlines and confusion about the new code in the system, but it’s all white noise to Minho. 
You’re close to Seungmin - a little too close. Minho tells himself over and over that weredogs have an instinct to want to be close, but that doesn’t mean he has to be happy with it. 
It looks like your tails are dancing together as they swish, though yours is more erratic. Seungmin’s eyes travel everywhere and Minho is so close to leaning over you just to push him away. 
“And the new code we have to use?” You groan. “I absolutely hate it.”
“You?” Seungmin challenges. “Hating something? I don’t believe it.”
Minho watches you scoff, watches the color of your face flush. It’s from your fever, he thinks. He hopes. 
Why on Earth would you think he would be able to get along with someone like Seungmin? He was far too quiet when you happily introduced Minho - you’re best friend may he remind you - and didn’t so much as ask what type of job he works. Seungmin may be a cat, but Minho is starting to think he’s beginning to prefer dogs.
The male weredog leans closer to you and Minho straightens. He can hear how deep he inhales before Seungmin turns his head to the side, one ear flopping over. “Are you wearing a new perfume? It smells nice.”
“Oh, thank you.” You turn to your side, finally looking at Minho and smiling at him. His heart squeezes at the sight, how your eyes shine just looking at him. “Minho got it for me a while ago, but I only wear it on special occasions.”
The smirk on Seungmin’s face vanishes once he makes eye contact with Minho. And just like that, the moody expression Minho once wore turns smug. There’s a brief moment between the two men that you don’t see. A dirty look, a sneer, a smirk. It’s such a short interaction that speaks volumes. 
Seungmin may be a dog on the outside, but that deadly look screams cat.
“God, why is it so hot in here?” You fan yourself with a hand, looking between your two friends. “I feel like I’m turning into a swamp.”
Minho glances at other people nearby. Your co-workers are drinking, eating, and talking about anything but how hot it is. Your fever must be getting out of hand and Minho is planning on asking you if you two should leave before Seungmin says, “When did your fever start?”
“Um,” you rub your hands together in an attempt to get yourself to stop feeling so antsy. Minho places a friendly hand on your knee. Nothing he’s never done before to soothe you, but you react as if he’s burned you. It feels like his hand sends shivers throughout your body and you can’t help but jolt. A soft whine leaves your lips, and poor Minho who can’t seem to notice that your distress is from his touch, decides to rub his thumb onto your skin.
What feels like buckets of arousal seep your underwear. You get the sudden urge to hump, a stupid weredog antic that you can never seem to get rid of. Your legs tense and you almost close them in an attempt to get some friction with Minho’s hand before you remember that Seungmin asked you a question. 
“M-maybe a week ago or something? I think I just ate something bad.” But when you look at Seungmin for his response, he isn’t even facing you. His focus is on your lower half, watching with a predatory look in his eyes as Minho gently strokes his thumb on your thigh. Maybe you should feel weird that your co-worker is looking at you in such a way, but it strangely adds to the sensation Minho’s providing. 
Seungmin inhales and groans, too quiet for the chatter of your company to notice but enough for you to accidentally snap your legs closed with Minho’s hand captive. 
Then finally, Seungmin looks up between you and Minho and nods to the front door. 
“Meet me outside.”
He doesn’t wait for a response before he grabs his jacket and leaves. A few coworkers complain and question him, but he silences them with a mere glare and a respectful, apologetic bow to his boss.
You and Minho look amongst each other and he carefully slides his hand out from the crease of your thighs. The two of you miss the warmth from the touch, but Minho is a little more concerned with how you’ve started to paw and grasp at his hand to get it back on you.
There was such a sense of urgency in Seungmin’s voice. As much as Minho was irritated with how he was looking at you, there was genuine worry there. It would be easy for you two to ditch Seungmin and leave on your own, but something tells him there’s more than just a stomach bug going on. 
Minho takes his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers. He nearly hisses at how hot your skin is, but you only howl with satisfaction.
He stands, taking you with him, but your boss is quick to stop you from leaving. “Hey! Now where are you two going?” Shit, of course it wouldn’t be as easy to leave. 
“I think she’s had too much to drink, sir.” A lie. You haven’t touched a single drink, but no one here is sober enough to know that. “It would be better to have her sleep it off so she can make it to work tomorrow.”
Minho hopes his excuse is enough and from the belly laugh that your boss gives, he thinks it is. 
“I like the way you think! Make sure you take care of her. We’ve got a big project coming up and I need my best workers.”
A thank you, a quick bow, and Minho is quick to grab your things and lead you outside. To his luck, you play the drunk girl perfectly. Your full weight is on his shoulder that you’re leaning on, breathing into his neck and trying to nip his skin.Your tail is so out of control that you whack him and you as Minho walks to Seungmin. 
No, this isn’t a fever. 
And Seungmin is quick to confirm that the moment he sees how much you’re clinging onto Minho. He covers his mouth and nose with his hand. “Fuck. Your heat's getting bad. Why the fuck did you come in the condition?”
“I-I…no! Seung, I’m not. I can’t.” That seems to snap you out of your trance enough to answer him, but not enough to separate yourself from Minho. 
“Heat?” Minho looks at you questioningly. Didn’t you tell me the doctors said you that your animal DNA is too small for heat periods?” Which he believed without question. Minho has known you for years and you’ve never had a heat in that time. Not so much as a story to tell or any suppressors he’s seen.
You look like you’re about to cry even with the hazy look in your eye. “They did! It’s way too late for me to experience my first heat. I’m just sick.”
Seungmin scoffs. “Sick? I don’t think so. Listen, the point is, you need to leave. I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but you’re going to attract were-males with your pheromones.” He looks around protectively and then back at you, putting his hand down. “Okay, I don’t mean to come off weird, but do you think you can…handle it on your own?”
There’s a silence between the three of you. Minho blinks rapidly. Did he hear that right? Is Seungmin, this man he just met tonight, really asking to hook up with you? In front of him? Your best friend?
He must have a death wish. “What the fuck are you saying, man?”
Seungmin averts his gaze to the other male. “Was I talking to you?”
“Seungmin!” You scold.
“Nah, you don’t get it, human. She’s in heat. You’re not going to be able to properly calm her down, or worse, she’s gonna go into a frenzy because you can’t.”
This is exactly why Minho can’t stand weredogs. They’re too obsessed with something that’s not even theirs. “And you think just ‘cuz you’re a dog you can? You don’t know me and you don’t know her. Get your snout out of our business.” Minho pulls you closer. “We’re leaving, let’s go.”
He only manages to get a few steps away before Seungmin spins him around. Being so close to him, Minho realizes he’s taller, but not by much. The ears add the illusion of extra height. It’s the piercing gaze, however, that makes Minho feel small. “Tell me, Minho, have you ever been with a were-female?”
“That’s none of your business. Fuck off.”
“I’ll go ahead and give you the benefit of the doubt and say sure, maybe you have once or twice. But have you ever been with one during their heat? During their first heat? Do you know what a weredog even does in heat? What they need? For fuck's sake, your stupid nose can’t even tell the difference from last week to this week.”
Seungmin takes a step closer until his chest is almost touching Minho’s. So close that you can smell how your heat is affecting him. 
“I’m not doing this for a quick fuck and I’m sure as hell not doing it for you. Despite what your little human brain might think, I care. I care enough to make sure that she’ll go home safely and get properly taken care of. I’m not thinking of myself, unlike someone.”
It feels like a slap on the cheek. Minho’s jaw is so clenched that his teeth begin to ache. He wants to tell Seungmin that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, that he’s wrong - but shit, is he really? Minho isn’t well-versed in weredogs outside of friendships and the hookups he had were all feline or human. It hurts to admit, but he doesn’t know. Minho doesn’t even know what to do with you still clinging onto him and dipping your hands up his shirt to feel his skin.
Fuuuck this.
Minho lets out a deep sigh, almost as if it hurts him to say, “You're not getting in my car. Just follow behind.”
And follow Seungmin does. On the road driving far too fast the speed limit, on the sidewalk leading up to Minho’s house, to the front door that you wobble to, up the stairs that inevitably lead to Minho’s room that you barge into. 
The bed is the first thing you go to. Neither of the men have a chance to lay down any ground rules before you bury yourself between the sheets. Minho stares as you inhale his blanket, grabbing his pillow and biting down on it with your canines. It only takes a second before you roll onto your stomach and grind on it, effectively humping his favorite pillow.
No, he isn’t staring anymore, he’s gawking. Minho nearly flinches at the amount of drool his poor pillow has to endure. 
“Are you just gonna stand there or what?” Seungmin rasps out. The voice breaks Minho’s attention, and although he knows the weredog beside him is male, he still jumps at the sight. 
Seungmin is full of want. His ears are up straight, his tail swishes as if he’s watching a prey, his teeth are bared with a hint of saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth, and if Minho looks down, he could see the outline of a bulging- 
“Mmm sorry,” you whine. “Smells so good. Min’ smells so good.” Your hips press up and down deeply, getting that nice friction on your clothed cunt. It looks cute, strangely, to see how desperate you are for a release. Minho would have liked to enjoy the scene longer if it wasn’t for Seungmin losing his patience. It takes a mere three strides for Seungmin’s long legs to reach you, his eyes pupils blown wide.
Within a second, Minho is beside him.
“Don’t get any-”
“Praise her,” Seungmin chokes out. “Pet her, touch her, fuck! Just do something. I’m going crazy.” He forces himself to back away from you, opting to pace around Minho’s room, trying to look for anything to distract himself from the rut he’s about to go in. Seungmin reaches for the bottom of his shirt and begins to hastily undress. He doesn’t even spare a glance at the human when he says, “Get her undressed. Weredogs need skin contact during their heat.”
Easier said than done. You’re clawing Minho’s skin affectionately and reaching for his belt. He feels like he’s wrestling you if he ignores his boner. He manages to unbutton your top, shaky hands reaching back to unclasp your bra but you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close. Your legs wrap around his torso and bring him in, his cock to your cunt through the many layers of clothes.
“No, takes too long. Just put it in me. I’m so wet already.”
Your voice is a whisper in his ear. Minho realizes it’s because you don’t want Seungmin to hear. To sweeten the deal, you grind on his crotch. Minho’s knees are fully on the bed, giving you a much better angle to hump him instead. 
You let out the smallest whine. The tiniest sound of pleasure from something other than masturbating, but Seungmin hears it. He whips his head quickly and rushes to you two with a small package in his hand. 
Minho’s able to make it out when he gets closer. It’s from when you and him went to the convenience store earlier. When the fox cashier shot his sly smile and said, These are on the house. Have fun tonight. 
“I don’t even want to know where you got these pills,” Seungmin tosses the package to Minho. “Take it now. It should have an effect within 5 minutes.”
Knot Cock! The package reads. INSTRUCTIONS: take 5-10 minutes prior to intercourse with weredog. Do not mix with other genitalia-morphing pills. drowsiness and mild pain are- 
“Jesus fuck,” Seungmin moans. “Your pussy smells so good.”
Minho rips the package open and discards the warnings. He can read it later. Right now, he’s focused on dry swallowing the pill, finally removing his clothes, and helping Seungmin take off your skirt. 
Strings of arousal stick to your underwear as the material goes down your legs. You whine at the cold air, but Seungmin is quick to reassure you. “Good. Good. You’re doing such a good job. I’m almost done, baby.”
A scowl appears on Minho’s expression when he glances at Seungmin. It’s hard to just look at his face when the two men are naked. It’s far too easy to notice the flush in Seungmin’s chest and cock. How different, yet similar, it looks to his own. 
They’re doing this together, why is he taking all the credit? He’s not even supposed to be here, he’s just helping. “I got you,” Minho emphasizes. He places his hand on your bare thighs and gently spreads them apart. 
In all its glory, your cunt shines with arousal. For a brief moment, the men stare. There’s no arguing with your pussy doing all the talking, wetness seeping through your folds as if it’s crying. It’s only seconds they take time drooling over you, but too many seconds too long. You impatiently reach your hand down and spread your lower lips, using your other hand to rub your fluttering hole.
“Please, pleaseplease-”
Seungmin moves first, much to Minho’s displeasure. A growl emits from his chest as Seungmin peels your hands away from your cunt. Saliva drips down his chin - down his neck. Minho thinks he might eat you, but Seungmin opts to devour your cunt.
The sound that leaves you is more of a howl than a moan. A noise of appreciation and pleasure at every swipe of his tongue. Seungmin’s throat vibrates with his grunts, it bobs with every gulp. You thread one hand into his hair and the other entwines with Minho’s fingers. Minho can’t tell if he’s squeezing your hand or if you're squeezing his, but it doesn’t matter. Not when a foreign haze begins to take hold of his senses, a pressure in his cock he’s never felt before. 
Minho tears his gaze from Seungmin eating you out to see his cock enlarged. He’s never seen it so big and red. He’s especially never had a ring at the base, a near-identical state of Seungmin’s. The shock almost distracts him from the urge he’s getting - the urge to push Seungmin aside, to have you close to him in every and any way possible. 
Crap, the pill is working a lot better than Minho would have guessed. 
To try and fight the effects, Minho leans down to get a taste of your cunt. The scent of you grows stronger, but Minho isn’t able to get his lick in when Seungmin pulls away to growl at him. Much to Minho’s horror, he growls back. The men bare their teeth, a clear sign of intimidation and Minho doesn’t back away from even with Seungmin’s sharp canines. 
You, however, notice the clash of pheromones. You hear the snarls loud enough to pick your head up and focus your dilated pupils. Roughly, you move your hands to grip the back of their heads and force them into your cunt. They bonk their foreheads slightly, a soft whine coming from Seungmin and a final snarl from Minho before they succumb to your taste. 
They can’t notice how their tongues mix and clash, or maybe they do, but sucking on your clit outweighs the fact. You can’t find yourself to care when their tongues move as if they’re fighting. One muscle pushes the other out of the way just for it to do it back. It’s almost cute if it was in any other situation, but you still smile and moan when one tongue flicks your clit.
Without needing to speak to each other, the men silently agree to move together to hear you again. Starting towards the bottom of your clit, Minho and Seungmin glide up. You tremble and squeal when the tips of their tongue continuously flick at your bud, but they graciously dip back down. Looking at how they suck your clit only amplifies the feeling of pleasure, but you can’t look away. It’s a hypnotic sight, watching their tongues lap up and down, watching the saliva spread to your thighs and pelvis from how much they lick. 
You could cum just like this, looking into their eyes with your cunt in their mouth, but you don’t want to finish like that. Your heat makes it so that it feels painful to be empty no matter how their tongues tease your entrance. The only thing you need to be satisfied is to be full. So full of cum that it leaks for weeks after. To be stuffed and properly bred into with any male. They may have fought in the beginning, but you’re beyond elated for your first heat to be with them.
It’s far too hard to use words, not when you're panting and moaning with every lick, but you manage to get out small, nonono’s that make Seungmin’s ears perk up. Minho takes the opportunity to fully be on your cunt, sucking and dragging his tongue while Seungmin paws up to you.
He doesn’t have to ask, his eyes say it all with the worry and arousal in them.
“Fuck me.” Gosh, you’ve never been so direct before. “No more licking just please. It hurts.” You place a hand on your stomach, emphasizing the emptiness. “Wanna be full.”
Minho swears when Seungmin rips his head from your cunt. He;’s forced off with Seungmin’s fingers in his hair. Minho might have snarled again, but he heard your begging. Heard how the two of them eating you out did little to help your heat. It was only a matter of time before either of them was inside you, but the real question is who. Maybe Minho would have been more open, thinking more logically, about letting Seungmin go first, but the drug in his system makes it so the most important thing is having you to himself. 
The look Minho gives Seungmin is deadly. “I’m going first.”
Seungmin doesn’t so much as acknowledge his words - can’t when he’s already stroking his cock and balancing himself on his knees. Minho hates how he succumbs to the drug, shoving Seungmin so hard that he nearly falls off the bed. “I said -” But Seungmin doesn’t let Minho finish, interrupting the older male with a just-as-hard push.
“Stop,” you all but whisper. They look at you and the expression on your face makes them obey, save for the teeth. “I…I want both. Can’t I have both?”
Is that even possible? Minho can only imagine how difficult it would be to take two cocks, let alone knots that will surely have your pussy expanding. It seems like Seungmin is thinking the same thing based on his confused expression, but his rut makes him just as clueless as Minho.
The men look at each other, eyes clear for the first time in a while. No words are needed to come to a silent agreement. Minho tucks himself between you and the bed, flipping you the other way until you’re chest-to-chest with your best friend. Seungmin stays on his knees on the bed, his cock pointed at your entrance. It takes a bit more adjusting before you’re nicely sandwiched between the two and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Their scent covers you perfectly with their skin on every inch of yours. 
You’ve never gotten the experience to nest, but you assume it feels something like this.
Minho’s erection sits between your thighs, hot and heavy. You should feel weird, gross even, having your closest friend getting ready to fuck you. That feeling never happens. Not even as you lift your hips for Minho to grab his cock and angle it towards your cunt.
“Tell me-” He moans when you slide your cunt against his tip. “T-tell me if it hurts.”
You would have laughed if you could. Feeling genuine pain seems impossible in your state, but you nod anyway. 
Minho doesn’t waste time rubbing his dick on your cunt. His cock is throbbing so painfully that the only relief is sinking into you.
Inch by inch, he enters. The tip flares more than it normally would, not that you would know, and the stretch has you whining into his chest. His scent calms you and you suck on his skin to further soothe yourself. Minho isn’t going as slow as he wants to. He’s trying to open you up gently, but your cunt is so warm, so soft, that he can’t help himself from fucking into you until his artificial knot prevents him from going deeper.
Veins bulge from Minho’s neck. He’s never had sex like this - he’s never had such an urge to claim, to breed. His cock is unbelievably sensitive and your pussy feels like heaven. He groans, hands going to your ass to squeeze the pulp flesh. 
It’s then that he feels a different set of hands that he’s reminded of the actual male were-dog. “I’m in. You can-”
Seungmin, who’s been patiently sitting, pushes into you without any further instruction. The intrusion makes you yip from surprise. Minho’s ears pick up on the sound and a sense of inhumane protection overcomes him. He thinks you’re in pain from the small howl, but you moan almost immediately after. Seungmin thrusts into you much quicker, much faster than Minho had initially. 
“Finally.” It sounds guttural from Seungmin’s throat. “Been waiting forever.”
Unlike Minho, who at least tries to savor the feeling of your walls wrapped around his cock, Seungmin ruts into you. The force of his thrusts makes you rock against Minho’s length. You let out little squeals and whimpers with every move right into Minho’s ear. If he wanted, Minho could finish just like this. With Seungmin’s cock rubbing against his own and your pussy moving just enough for some friction.
But Minho doesn’t want to just cum.
He wants to carve himself in you. To make his mark in the deepest part of you. Minho places his feet flat on the bed to properly thrust. It only takes one time to have you biting down his chest, your sharp teeth digging painfully into his skin. 
“Fuck!” Minho’s flesh tastes of salt and desire. “Fuuuuck…”
Seungmin puts his hands on your lower back, causing you to arch at just the right angle for their tips to kiss your cervix. They buck up into you with different tempos, one going in while the other goes out. It’s an endless feeling of being filled. You swear you can feel them touching the back of your throat with how deep they are.
Distantly, you can feel the wetness of Seungmin’s drool dripping onto your ass. Pulling your teeth from Minho’s chest, you turn back to see just as you thought. Seungmin’s eyes are blown wide, tail stiff and pointed upwards with his flat tongue hanging out. He probably doesn’t even notice the mess he’s making on your back with his eyes locked where you three connect.
Minho groans at the welt from the wound you’ve left, but the pain is quickly forgotten at your tightening walls. He's astonished, truthfully, at how much your cunt can open. How eager it is to be pumped and used until it’s satisfied. Words can’t seem to leave him though, he can’t tell you how much he loves feeling your cunt and Seungmin’s cock working together. 
No, instead, the noises he’s making are eerily similar to Seungmin. To try and quiet himself, Minho buries his face into your neck. He licks and sucks the skin there, gripping your ass harder as he manages to finally match his pace with the were-dog.
With your scent (and with the help of the pill) he understands why you bit him. What better way to claim you than both on the inside and outside? His teeth graze the sensitive part of your neck. You whine, lifting your neck higher to allow Minho better access. It’s not as easy to do with your body jolting from their thrusts, but Seungmin is quick to help.
He uses a hand to grip your hair, lifting you so high that your chest completely lifts from Minho’s. You whimper at the sudden movement, but the men are quick to kiss each side of your throat in apology. The new angle has you gushing overwhelmingly. Minho might have to buy a new mattress entirely.
“Feel that?” Seungmin glances at Minho. “Feel that pussy clenching?”
Minho can’t find the will to pull his lips away from you, so he looks back at Seungmin in acknowledgment. 
“That’s her telling us to cum in it. Ready to be bred like a good pup, huh?” He shakes his fist with your hair in his hand. 
You let him wiggle your head, nodding along with the movements. Seungmin grunts with approval and keeps your neck bare to them. Their movements grow sloppy, suddenly unable to keep a solid rhythm with their cocks pushing deeper and deeper until you know it’s only a matter of time before their knots fill you. You feel your saliva drip down your chin and Minho is gracious enough to kiss the drool away. 
Seungmin’s claws dig into your back and scalp and Minho’s blunt nails squeeze the flesh of your ass. They snarl, though this time, it’s far from how it was before. 
“Shit. How are you still so tight with two cocks in you?” Minho grunts out. His teeth nip your throat and Seungmin mimics on the other side. “So close, pup.” Seungmin sucks harshly on your bruising flesh. “Gonna take our knots so good.”
“So good,” you confirm. “Give it to me. Min’... Seung’. I need it.”
It’s in unison that they bite you. Minho’s dull teeth hurt compared to Seungmin’s pointed canines, but the stinging on your neck is nothing compared to the stretch between your legs when they force their knots in. You nearly scream from the intrusion, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you finally, finally cum with every cell in your body.
Your cunt expands with the spurts of cum from their cocks. It’s impossible for anything to drip out of your cunt, their dicks are perfectly made to ensure your pussy swallows everything. Their growls are loud in your ears, possessive and satisfied with their knot being buried in you. Minho is first to pull his teeth away from you, licking the mark better until he moves to a different spot to suck. Seungmin, on the other hand, opts to bite harder, ensuring his teeth will leave marks you’ll have to cover up. It’s not until he tastes the familiar metallic tang that he pulls away and pacifies the sting with his lips.
Seungmin releases his grip and you collapse on Minho’s chest. The men give shallow thrusts to further guarantee that you’re stuffed before you whine and twitch. Their hands soothe your body to coax you further into relaxation. 
Minutes pass by before Minho thinks he’s ready to move. He tries to pull his cock out, but he’s met with resistance as if his dick and your pussy are actually molded together…with Seungmin’s, unfortunately. 
You bark out a cry from pain - not the good kind - and Seungmin growls with annoyance.
“What the fuck?” Minho looks bewildered. His confused eyes find Seungmin’s. “Why can’t I move?” You’d laugh if you weren’t so fucked out, or if the throbbing between your legs was bearable. Seungmin clicks his tongue and laughs colorlessly. “Cuz we’re knotted, pretty boy. You’re gonna be stuck with me for a while. Literally.”
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brainddeadd · 9 days ago
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lando is a big yapper but also seems to love his quiet time alone for peace so he has the sweetest and shy gf ever and they fit perfect, when he yaps she listens and helm when he needs some comfortable quite she is perfect, and it surprised people who well they got together because he’s so loud and talkative but she sees the side of him that needs the quiet and calm
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The Perfect Balance
Lando Norris was known for his boundless energy, quick wit, and endless chatter. Whether it was in interviews, streaming on Twitch, or goofing around with his teammates, he always had something to say. So, when people learned about his girlfriend—quiet, reserved, and as soft-spoken as they come—they were baffled.
“She must be so overwhelmed by him,” some speculated.
But nothing could be further from the truth.
The truth was, she saw a side of him no one else did. When the cameras weren’t on, and the adrenaline faded, Lando often sought her out—not for a lively conversation, but for the stillness she brought to his chaotic world.
They were curled up on the couch in his Monaco apartment, the soft hum of a Formula 1 highlights video playing in the background. Lando had been talking nonstop for the past twenty minutes about strategy, tire choices, and “how George absolutely screwed up his corner exit at Suzuka.”
She sat there beside him, legs tucked underneath her, nodding along. Her hand absentmindedly played with the hem of his hoodie, and every now and then, she’d let out a soft giggle at his more exaggerated reenactments.
“You’re listening, right?” he asked suddenly, leaning closer with a faux-suspicious squint.
“Of course,” she murmured, a small smile playing on her lips. “I always do.”
Her quiet voice had a way of cutting through his constant buzz like a balm. She didn’t have to say much for him to feel completely seen.
As the evening wore on, the chatter naturally began to die down. Lando stretched his arms above his head, let out a satisfied yawn, and flopped sideways, his head landing in her lap.
“What’re you doing?” she asked softly, brushing a few stray curls from his forehead.
“Just...need a break,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. He closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath.
She knew this part of him well—the version of Lando who needed quiet to recharge. It was a side that few people saw but one she cherished the most.
Her fingers carded through his hair in soothing strokes as he lay there, his eyes growing heavier by the second.
“You’re good at this, you know,” he mumbled sleepily.
“Good at what?”
“Being what I need,” he said, cracking a soft smile without opening his eyes.
Their dynamic was puzzling to those who only saw the loud, boisterous side of Lando. But she didn’t need to explain it to anyone—she understood him. The Lando who dominated press conferences and racked up podiums was the same Lando who sought out her quiet presence like a lifeline.
In turn, he loved how she listened, how she never tried to match his energy, and how her calm demeanor grounded him in a way no one else ever could.
They didn’t have to make sense to anyone else. They made perfect sense to each other.
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