#Lace is nowhere to be found

[pickled-flowers]

Back on my edgy shit i guess

[mrsmiroir]

“i have to buy goth clothes on shein because i can’t find any goth clothes where i live” sister that’s because you’re looking for killstar or disturbia or tripp nyc or whatever. stop looking for brands and start looking for individual pieces because i guarantee you that even your thrift store in bumfuck nowhere has at least one (1) black article of clothing.

[sunni-stuff]

Part 1 This is part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

With the train ride now over, the sergeants ran, scouring the market for two familiar faces. Their footsteps in sync, crunching delicate mounds of white snow. Soap broke through the crowd first, then Gaz and Gary were right with him.

“Where the hell are they?” Gaz pants out, his breaths misting in the cold air.

“You said the marketplace,” Soap huffs.

“Yeah, I said the marketplace, but it's not like I know exactly where they went!” Gaz snaps back.

While the two sergeants bicker, Roach quietly breaks away, scanning the area until he spots the familiar figures they’d been hunting for. Price and Ghost stand outside a cigar shop, deep in conversation. The satisfied grin on Price's face tells Roach everything—he got what he was after.

“They’re over there!” Roach exclaims, snapping his partners out of their lovers' quarrel.

Gaz and Soap go silent, their eyes following Roach’s line of sight until they, too, spot their Lieutenant and Captain.

In a heartbeat, the three of them are sprinting toward their unsuspecting targets. Soap grins like a madman, practically buzzing with mischief, while Gaz shakes his head, both amused and slightly wary of what might unfold. Roach, meanwhile, is simply thrilled to be along for the ride.

They skid to a stop right in front of the two men, chests heaving as they catch their breath in the biting winter air.

“The hell is wrong with you lot?” Price’s voice cuts through, laced with a mix of annoyance and bemusement as he shifts his attention from Ghost to the winded sergeants.

Ghost, arms crossed, eyes them with quiet scrutiny. His winter coat does little to conceal his bulky frame, a silent reminder of his imposing presence as he stands beside Price.

Price and Ghost waited for an explanation, knowing well everytime those three got together, they were definitely up to no good.

Like how they put semi-permanent green dye in Ghost's shampoo for Halloween.

“We… we saw. A kid with your face,” Gaz manages, still catching his breath, pointing straight at Ghost.

Ghost raises a brow, baffled. A kid with his face? What the hell did that mean? Did they think he looked like a baby?

Soap huffs in mock disappointment, shooting a playful glare at Gaz. “Oi, I wanted to say it!”

Predictably, the two dive into another back-and-forth. Gaz isn’t one to shout, but Soap has a talent for riling anyone up.

Price lets their little show go on for only a moment before his stern voice cuts in, slicing through their bickering. “One of you properly explain, or you'll be walking back to base.”

Roach steps up, eager to clarify. “There’s a kid, probably about two, and she looks exactly like the Lt. Scowl, glare, and all!”

Price and Ghost pause, their expressions twisting as they both try—and fail—to imagine a little girl with Simon’s permanent scowl.

Price shudders, shaking the thought from his head. “That is not a face a kid should have.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Gaz chimes in, nodding emphatically.

Ghost throws him an offended look, his usually hardened eyes showing a glimmer of hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” they all exclaim in unison, even Price, who quickly averts his gaze as Ghost’s glare narrows on him.

Ghost huffs, then crosses his arms. “Did you take a picture?”

Soap snorts, leaning against the wall with a smirk. “Aye, right, 'cause that wouldnae be creepy at all.”

Ghost stares daggers Into Soap, rolling his eyes and pushing himself off the wall. “Okay, then where is she?”

The three stooges lead the charge once again, this time with their Captain and Lieutenant in tow. They weave through the crowd toward the train park, where Soap eagerly scans for the woman and kid he’d spotted earlier. But the line they were in is empty, the pair nowhere to be found.

“Shite. I think they’re gone,” Soap mutters, his Scottish accent thickening in his frustration, the words rolling out with a clipped bite. 

“So the imaginary woman and kid don’t actually exist,” Ghost deadpans, unimpressed.

“They exist!” Gaz insists, voice edging on exasperation.

“Sure,” Ghost replies, his tone flat and thoroughly unconvinced.

Roach snickers, then glances over at Price—only to see him staring slack-jawed through the window of a nearby café, his cigar dangling from his mouth, forgotten.

“Cap?” Roach says, touching the older man’s shoulder.

Price doesn’t look away, nodding toward the café. “Found them.”

Everyone turns toward the café, eyes landing on you and Adira. The little girl is happily weaving between your legs, her tiny hands gripping your coat as she entertains herself, all while you order hot chocolates to fend off the winter chill. A soft smile touches your lips as you watch her play, blissfully unaware of the audience gathering just outside.

The barista, with a warm smile, hands over two cups, one with a little extra marshmallows for Adira, her voice bright as she wishes you both a merry Christmas. You take the cups with a grateful nod, handing one to Adira. She immediately takes her drink, sipping eagerly, her small feet bouncing on her heels from the sugar rush.

“Yummy?” You ask, glancing down at her with a soft smile, a wave of motherly pride swelling in your chest as you watch her delight in the simple joy of her drink.

Adira nods eagerly, her eyes lighting up as she pulls away from her straw with a satisfied sigh. “Yummy.”

With a soft chuckle, you both leave the warmth of the shop, stepping out into the crisp air. Hand in hand, you walk back toward the park, the world around you feeling peaceful despite the cold. As you reach the crosswalk, you stop, waiting for the light to turn. Adira looks up at you, her little face filled with contentment as she swings your joined hands back and forth, her sugary energy still buzzing.

Across the way, the team stood frozen, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before them. Everyone but Ghost was struck by how much Adira looked like him—her features unmistakably mirroring his, save for the color of her hair and skin. The resemblance was uncanny, and for a brief moment, it felt like the world had stopped around them.

“She looks nothing like me,” Ghost stated plainly, his voice cutting through the stillness as though it were fact. His expression was unmoving, a wall of stubbornness in his eyes. He was ready to die on that hill.

Then, as fate would have it, a woman walking her dog passed by, and Adira’s cherub-like face hardened into a cold, calculating stare. It was subtle, but unmistakable. 

“Nevermind,” Ghost muttered, his earlier conviction faltering as he watched her shift before his eyes.

“So… you’ve been having fun these past years?” Roach asked, his gaze flicking between Adira and Ghost, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Not that I know of,” Ghost grunted, his eyes still locked on you and Adira, a mix of unease and something else flickering across his face. He couldn’t pull himself away.

“Let’s get closer,” Price commanded, already making his move. Soap and Roach exchanged a shrug, falling in line without hesitation.

“Excuse me?” Gaz sputtered, though his body had already begun moving before his brain could catch up, unable to defy the Captain’s order.

Ghost fell silent, teeth gritted. This wasn’t a situation he was used to, especially not one where he was forced to go in blind. He stood stiffly at the crosswalk, trying to hide his glances, his focus split between the team and you.

Soap ended up the closest, standing just next to Adira. The little girl paused, her big, doe-like eyes lifting from her drink to catch sight of him. The recognition was instant. Her lips pursed into a small line, and her gaze grew heavy with annoyance. 

“Ugee…” she whispered, scooting closer to you.

Soap froze, his mind stuttering for a moment. Did she just—? Did she call me ugly?

Gaz, standing behind him, couldn’t contain himself. A muffled laugh broke through as Soap turned to look at the others, wide-eyed and speechless, completely taken aback.

“Do ye lot think I'm ugly?” Soap asked, his voice thick with disbelief, clearly thrown off by the little girl's words.

“Not the time, Mctavish,” Price said, a tiny laugh tugging at the corner of his lips despite the situation.

The streetlight flickered green, signaling it was time to move. You adjusted yourself, ready to cross the street. Each member of the team started mentally preparing, unsure of how—or even if—they should approach you. Ghost, however, was the first to make a move, determined to intercept you. But Soap, ever the opportunist, beat him to it.

Ghost wasn’t exactly subtle, and having him try anything would probably send you running in the opposite direction.

“Excuse me, aren’t you the lady from the train?” Soap called out, his voice light, though his intentions were clear.

You paused at his interruption, recognition flickering in your eyes. You remembered the man who bumped into you earlier. “Yes? Is something the matter?”

“Do you happen to know where I could find Leslies?” Soap asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice, though he tried to mask it.

“The pub?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Soap confirmed, his face lighting up with a mix of relief and surprise at your easy response.

You look around for a moment, trying to remember and see the street names of your current location. “Uh…it should be about a couple blocks south from here. They have a big sign, you can't miss it.”

Thank God for Soap, because that one question was all he needed to keep you trapped in a conversation, his charm working its magic as you giggled and chatted away easily, the awkwardness of the situation melting away.

Meanwhile, Ghost’s attention shifted to Adira. He looked down at her, and she, almost instinctively, looked up at him. Their eyes locked in a silent staring contest, each of them studying the other. The intensity in their gaze was undeniable, both sets of eyes reflecting the same quiet, unwavering strength. It was like looking in a mirror—a mirror that mirrored back his own hardened stare and no-nonsense attitude.

Adira was, quite literally, his mini me. The resemblance was impossible to ignore.

“How old are you?” Ghost asked bluntly, his voice low as he kneeled down to Adira’s height, his gaze intense but trying to soften.

Adira paused for a moment, glancing up at you for help, but you were still caught up in conversation with Soap. She turned her focus back to Ghost, her small fingers fidgeting with the hem of her coat as she murmured shyly, “Two…”

She was two. Two. Ghost’s mind raced, trying to piece together the details, but nothing clicked. Nearly three years ago… what had he done three years ago? He kept everything categorized, stored in his mind like a well-organized file system, but this was something that didn’t fit.

Then, Soap’s voice broke through his thoughts. 

“You don’t seem like the type of lass to frequent Leslies.”

You giggled, a soft blush creeping up your cheeks at Soap’s question. He wasn’t wrong… at least, not entirely. “I’ve only been to Leslie’s once, and, well… it’s how I ended up with my little blessing.” You glanced down at Adira, the warmth of your smile radiating as you spoke.

Everything shattered in that moment. Ghost’s stomach twisted painfully, his heart skipping a beat as the realization slammed into him like a freight train. Leslie's. Almost three years ago, during that stupid holiday.

His mind began to piece it together, the hazy memories from that night slowly coming into focus. He remembered the bar, the laughter, the way you had caught his attention. You were easy on the eyes, easy to make laugh, and most importantly—unlike everyone else. You didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry, you just let him lead, let him slip into the night with no strings attached.

But now, as he looked at Adira, everything fell into place. The way she stared at him, those familiar eyes, the resemblance he couldn’t ignore. His breath hitched, and the weight of the truth crushed him—she was his daughter.

A knot formed in his throat as he tried to process the fact. Adira. His daughter. The little girl standing before him was his flesh and blood, the result of a moment he'd long since buried in the depths of his mind.

---

Taglist: @auradaniela98-blog-blog @cumsluut @unstqblecvrses @moraxnomora @serafina-nyx @sage-burrow @skylarmitchell @xx-wal1flower-xx @n-y-x04 @gluttonybiscuits @imahugenerdlol @wehrgabriel @blackhawkfanatic @tazuduck @soxocs @jingyuansspouse @cutiecusp @sleepyoriana @forgottensomewhere @puppylikethedog @spongelistener @caged-birdies-blog @bubblegirll26 @misscaller06 @fuckbananas03 @watu2ka @yukisdelusional @redroserabbit

[mayasaurusss]

hey how are you? could you write jinx x reader? something like jinx taking the reader's virginity. thanks ❤️🫰🏻

My favorite piltie

A/N: Hello! I am okay anon, thanks for asking! Just a bit sad that tomorrow Arcane will end😭.

I want to make it clear that I tried to do this before the next act drops, so I wrote it in two days and some things might not be very good, but I hope you will enojiy it nonetheless!!

Contains: female reader, detailed description of a wound, smut. All characters are 20+ years.

2,8 K/4 pages

When Jinx came knocking at your door tonight, you didn't think you'd end up in this position: her hands gripping at the skin of your chest and with her head buried in it.

The beginning of your night had kicked off with a strange twist when you heard a knock on your fifth floor appartment's window. You gulped down your fear and with a fast beating heart, looked past the window's glass to see a crouching figure with bright pink eyes staring at you. Any other occasion and you would have died on the spot, but you knew who she was. As soon as you opened the window, the figure let herself in, crawling out of the darkness and into the light of your room. "You are so nice letting me in, piltie" she said, and you don't miss the venom laced in the last word she spoke. "Your people aren't really known to be kind" her long fingers mess with the many little trinkets displayed on your shelves, checking their mechanisms and turning their gears.

"What do you want, Jinx?" you can feel a tingling sense of anger inside your skull at her continuous teasings.

You still remember the first time you had seen her, running from enforcers and covering her wounded shoulder.

You knew how ruthless they could be, especially since Miss Kirramman had taken control over the city. In a strange turn of events, you had found her curled up in one of Piltover's abandoned alleys and brought her with you to your home, taking care of her for the next few days until you found your window open and the blue haired criminal nowhere to be seen. During that time, you grew fond of her and were sad when she disappeared. Some weeks had passed and your life continued to flow normally, until she showed up at your door again. You were actually kind of amazed by the fact that she managed to sneak inside the appartment's building without being noticed, but after the third time, when someone called the enforcers on her, she had begun to climb on the building's exterior and knock at your window instead.

"Oh nothing, just wanted to pay a visit to my favorite piltie" she falls back on your bed, sizing you up from head to toe with that smirk of hers that makes your heart beat faster. "That's all?" the mattress dips under your weight as you sit next to her, always keeping your eyes on hers. "Mhmm, maybe" she fishes something from a bag -one you've just noticed- and shakes it: a small glass globe filled with water and fake flakes of snow. The tallest buildings of Piltover reflect the warm lights of your room, making the city of progress look ethereal under the glass. But it wasn't the shiny buildings or the snowflakes that got your attention, but a small name made with metal and gear parts glued to the bottom of the globe. "No way...is this a real Valdiani?!" the shock in your voice makes Jinx's heart flutter, something that she has never experienced before.

She lets out a proud snuff of air from her nose, pushing her chest outwards, "Consider it a gift for my fav- shit!" the sudden swear catches your attention and you look over to see Jinx doubled over. "Jinx! What is going on?!" It's faint, but you can see her hands wrapped tightly around her left side, traces of blood seeping from between her fingers. "Oh shit! Jinx what happened?" she lets out a breathless chuckle, her skin suddenly far paler than normally. "Hah, just some gift the bluebellies have given me" she sucks in a breath when you move her hands, biting a scream away. A deep wound runs along her side, pus forming where her skin had been pulled back from the slash, bleeding red on your covers. You run outside of your room and collect gauze, antiseptic, healing creme and a glass of water.

"Here, bite this" you hand her an old cloth, which she promptly places in between her teeth. "Ready?" she nods, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. The heat of your hand is the only thing that brings her comfort. She isn't ready though when you pour the liquid over her wound: it feels like billions of needles stinging and burning her flesh, making her want to vomit.

"There there, it's over..." you quickly dry her skin and massage the healing cream on her, finally finishing when you cover her stomach with the gauze. She releases a huff of relief, mindlessly tangling her fingers with yours. When the pain subsides, she realizes how close the two of you are. You on your knees, her panting and sweating, how close you are to her and how fast her heart is beating. It would take a second, just a second for her to reach for your lips and melt into you...

"Uh... I- uh, just-, what happened?" you try to not sound too shy but your voice gives your feelings away. "I..." Jinx's throat bobs and it seems that she'd rather curl herself up like a hedgehog than admitting whatever she did. "You know, the usual. Went on a walk, stormed a shop, stole some things, got the enforcers called on me and..." she gestures towards her side, "...this happened".

Jinx isn't clear with her words, but something about the blush on her skin hints at the fact that there may be something else underneath her facade. You might try at least, right? Reaching for the glass globe, you twirl it in your hands, watching the snowflakes fall on Piltover. "Jinx...did you get chased after stealing this?", she doesn't answer, but her shy silence is enough for you.

"Why? Why do this for me?" she pouts her lips before answering, still held back by some sort of pride. "W-what can I say? Anything for my favorite piltie...".

A heavy silence fills the room, of the kind that is difficult to bear.

You can't believe it. You just can't believe that she'd be so reckless, so stupid! It's difficult to bite your anger back, but you do so, and instead of crying or screaming or scolding her, like Jinx thought you were going to do, you just hug her tightly against your chest. Your grip is so strong against her that she feels like she'll choke on it.

But you are so warm in comparison to her body, so, so warm. For the first time in a while, after Silco's death, after Vi's betrayal, after everything went to shit, she feels like she can breathe. And so she does, inhaling your scent in between, tasting it on her tongue. When you pull back, Jinx's eyelids are heavy with want, her mouth slightly open and her skin red.

It takes a second for her lips to push against yours, for her hands to come up and grab your face and pull you down towards her. The kiss is surprisingly tender for it to be Jinx's: you expected teeth and tongue, not pecks and soft touches. The way she sighs and runs her hands on your chest has you keening for her. "Jinx..." a small line of spit connects your lips, and before you can say anything else, she wipes it off on your bottom lip and sighs, "You know what piltie? I think I deserve something too".

Blinking at her a couple of times, she groans at your naivety and continues while taking your cheeks in her hand. "It has been a hard day for me: running from enforcers, bleeding all the way here... I think I deserve a gift too".

And that's where you are now, naked from the waist up with Jinx on your lap, diligently taking what's hers. The way her tongue teases your nipple is something to die for. It seems all her softness has died with the kiss you shared before, now tugging and biting every part of you. You gasp as she bites your nipple, leaving the indents of her teeth on the delicate skin.

"If I knew I could see you all shy and fidgety-" she tugs your left nipple with her long fingers, smiling cruelly when tearing a gasp from you, "...I would have done this earlier". Her lips leave your right nipple, spit chilling the skin, before she teases both of them with the point of her fingernails, moving and tickling them.

Jinx lets out one of those cruel laughs of hers before diving right back on your nipple, giving it one last kiss and moving towards your stomach. She kisses and strokes every one of your scars, every mole or freckle, every inch of skin, until she comes across the hem of your pants. "N-No wait, Jinx..." you place your hand on her forehead, strands of blue hair falling in between your fingers. She halts immediatley at your discomforted voice, billions of little alarms going off in her head and an attentive yet scared look in her eyes. "What is it?".

"I... I have to tell you something" and with that, her heart beats faster and faster and that obnoxious voice inside her head speaks; 'You've hurt her' and 'Look at what you've done' and 'Did you really think she would genuinely like you?'. But your voice is stronger than theirs. "Hey? Is everything alright? We don't have to do this" in the meantime, your hand cups her cheek, thumb stroking at the pale skin. "Yeah I- I am okay. And I want to" her own fingers close in on you and she takes a moment to breathe. Your own warmth is one of the only things that can make her calm. When the voices blur away and only you and her are left, she opens her eyes again, your reflection sharp inside their pink. "What do you have to tell me?" now it was your time to take a breath, because knowing Jinx, she could have two reactions over your news: making fun of you or absolutely losing her shit. "I... I am a virgin".

She takes a moment to process the information and then lets out a wheezing laugh, making blood rise quickly to your face. "That's it?! I thought I accidentally hurt you or something!". The only thing you can do at this point is pout and look away offended. "Oh come on toots" her hands take a hold of your face before turning you to her, who is smiling softly and with tenderness. "I am just kidding. Don't be so moody. And besides..." she captures your lips, biting and licking and sucking until they darken, leaving a faint trace of blood where her teeth were, "...It's so fucking hot".

The descent to get to her prize is tedious and long, but Jinx can't help but want to savor each one of its steps. Her fingers finally hook on the hem of your pants and pull down, revealing your naked thighs to her; the only thing stopping her from claiming her prize is the fabric of your underwear. "Wait a second..." despite how cute you look to her, Jinx rolls her eyes at yet another one of your attempts to stop her. "What, toots? You don't want me to fuck you?" your eyes widen when she so bluntly says that, without an ounce of embarrassment on her face, but continue. "What?! N-no I want to....it's just that..." you eye Jinx's position on the floor. "The wound might be painful if you crouch... I don't want you to hurt yourself".

"So, what do you want me to do?". You look back between Jinx and the plush, comfortable bed, a lightbulb popping off on your head. "Lie on the bed", you say, making Jinx blink a few times before processing and understanding your intentions. "Ohh, I didn't take you for the kinky type, toots". She crawls over the bed, making sure to look as alluring as possible, then lies down with her head pressed on one of your pillows. "There. Do you like this more?" the way that she's so smug about it, with that stupid smirk of hers, makes you want to choke her to death.

"Shut the fuck up", you follow her, placing yourself on each side of her head, feeling her hands rise on your tighs to curl on the soft fabric she so wishes were to disappear. "Hmhm, alright" she eyes the patch of cloth that has begun to show a wet stain, images of what she is going to do to you already flashing in her mind. But this position prevents her from sliding them off without you having to move away from her, and she'd rather keep you and your pussy here. "You know, as much as I love how cute you look with these..." you only have a brief moment to see a malicious glint in her eyes, before she tears your underwear apart, leaving you naked in front of her "I'd much rather have you bare". "Jinx! I just told you to shut up!" it doesn't help that she doesn't mind you and whistles loudly, making you feel more and more embarrassed. "And I -shut up!-. And-and those were expensive! Do you know how-!" but all your words die in your throat when she, with a strength you didn't know she had, pulls you flat against her mouth.

She licks your clit like a starved woman, like it will be the last meal she'll ever have. She doesn't dive right in your pussy, instead takes her sweet time to torture you, making you wish she'd just fuck you already. "Jinx...please, I-" she opens her eyes to see you above her, naked and panting with pleasure, something she only ever dreamt of seeing.

She can't say no to her favorite piltie. Her cold hands grab your ass, propping you up in a new angle on her face so you can't move, but she can do everything she wants to. She spends the next minutes milking your pleasure out of you, before pushing one finger slowly inside of you. You gasp in pain at first, a small trickle of blood wetting your skin and her fingers, and after a few minutes, feeling need arise from the depths of your guts. Jinx's eyes widen when she first feels you move atop her fingers, riding them messily; and she already has a new idea. "No, none of that toots" with her left hand, she yanks your hips down on her fingers, preventing you from moving further. Her next words feel like ice cold water on naked skin; "I won't make you cum if you do it again" and as if that wasn't bad enough, she emphasizes her point with a trust of her fingers. "You will be a good girl, won't you?".

"Yes, yes, yes I will be a good girl..." her smile is all you see before she disappears underneath your thighs. As soon as you get used to the alien feeling of her fingers inside of you, her pace is unrelenting; fast and hard, torturing your clit with her lips. She takes your hips and places your slit directly onto her tongue, forcing you to grind down on it. When you start to wheeze from her touches, she decides to move onto the next phase of her plan. "Hey baby, get up a sec" you would rather keep on grinding on her tongue, but comply anyway. You get up, putting ditance between your slit and her mouth, but while you do, she directly shoves in her fingers, making your legs almost give out. With her other hand she pushes you until your ass is flat against her lap. "Come on, bounce" you don't let her repeat herself twice, already fucking yourself on her fingers at the best of your abilities. What she's seeing is far better than anything she could have ever dreamt of: her favorite piltie bouncing up and down her fingers, eyes heavy and panting above her. And your movements on her own crotch only make her feel more and more euphoric. Oh, if only she could feel you... When she curls her finger on that spot that has you keening, you finally come undone; finger intertwined, billions of stars exploding beneath your eyelids and electricity coursing through your veins. You collapse on her, skin against skin, puffing and gasping for each breath. Your whines reach Jinx's ears and right now, she wants nothing more than to tear orgasms upon orgasms from you, but she'll have to wait.

You roll over, taking a place near her on the bed, shivering from the intensity of your first time. And when Jinx, with a horrifyingly both sweet and sadistic smile turns to you, excitement clear on her face, your pussy clenches around nothing and your blood turns to ice. "So, wanna go again?"

[cimmanonrowl]

Eat Your Young pt.1

Part Two | Masterlist

It was a blessing when you were offered a job to look after a kid named Jack. He is a good one– smart, funny, a little cheeky but obeys you nonetheless. His father was all the same— Mr. Hotchner. He pays really well and on time, and made sure that after his arrival from Pakistan, you finally learn to accept your hidden desires.

Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

Theme: smut heaven

Contents: age gap, oral fixation, oral (f) receiving, cum play, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, unprotected, rough sex, dom!aaron, daddy kink, powerplay: boss/employee dynamic, pussy-eater bearded aaron.

You were supposed to find Jack in ten minutes. 

Ten minutes maximum, you told yourself. That is the only reason why you confidently agreed to play hide and seek with that hyperactive, sugar-high of a child. Just ten minutes.

Now you couldn’t breathe in panic.

“Jack!” your trembling voice echoed down the hallway as you peered through rooms you had ransacked just three minutes ago. “Jack, please. Where are you, honey?”

Nothing.

The heavy sound of your frantic steps pierced the silence as you bolted downstairs, feeling even more lightheaded as the gnawing anxiety grew harshly and clawed at your insides. The silence reverberating through every corner of the house felt extremely taunting. Yet, with the rush of worry you feel for the kid, you couldn’t bring yourself to think of anything else.

Your chest hurts, your mind racing with every horrid scenario, each thud echoing in your ears as you rush to the kitchen. Shortly after you were hired and joined their little family, Jessica told you everything she felt you needed to be aware of. And you knew what Jack had to go through as a kid. He and his father had gone through terrible things you weren’t even sure it was possible to handle.

Warm tears now flooded your eyes as you desperately scanned every nook and cranny— he was not under the table, not inside the empty kitchen cabinet, nor behind the dining room curtains.

“Jack Hotchner!” you tried keeping the tremor out of your voice, making yourself sound assertive and annoyed as an attempt to scare him, yet your panic still found a way to lace at each word. “This isn’t funny anymore, Jack! I’m telling your dad!” 

You darted to the living room, ripping aside the couch cushions and peeking behind and under every piece of furniture. Now your breath comes in shallow gasps. With each movement, the very memory of his mischievous giggle haunted you, ringing inside your brain.

When you realized the kid wasn’t there, you sprinted again upstairs, taking two steps at a time. Your mind continuously raced with possibilities. Did he sneak out? Is he hiding in the attic? The basement? Jesus Christ, did you even lock the front door?

You throw open the closet in the hallway, pushing aside winter coats and a pile of boxes. “Jack! I’m serious! Come out!” 

Desperation edged even closer.

The bathroom door swung open with a creak as you pushed through the room. But to your horror, it was all empty, too.

You staggered back to his bedroom with quick steps. Your very last hope. You flung open the toy chest, rummaging through the chaos of plastic dinosaurs, action figures, and Lego blocks. Still nothing. It didn’t even cross your mind that a kid as old as Jack wouldn’t fit in a small wooden toy box; your mind was too frantic to think logically.

“Jack! Where are you?” you dropped to your knees, peering under his bed, your vision blurring with unshed tears. “Please, Jack, come out!” 

You stood by the window and started biting on your nails— a habit you developed when you’re too anxious to function. You clutched your phone tightly as you hugged yourself, fingers trembling, contemplating to finally dial for help. From the window you observed that the garden looked empty as always, the back shed had always been locked, and you couldn’t see anyone behind the bushes— Jack was nowhere to be found. 

The dread is almost paralyzing, a heavy weight pressing firmly on your chest.

And just as you made up your mind to go outside and check properly, your phone vibrated on your hand. Blood drained on your face as you glanced at the screen and read the familiar name on the caller’s I.D.

Mr. Hotchner.

Jack’s father. Your employer— who also happens to be a big shot FBI agent. If he learned that you lost his son in a hide-and-seek game, no matter how warmhearted, accommodating, and considerate that man is of your needs and well-being, you get this nagging feeling that you might end up floating on a river somewhere with no leads of any kind or prime suspect to consider.

You rubbed your eyes as you accepted the call, your doom at the same time. “H-hello?”

“Hey,” Aaron’s voice crackles through the line, distant yet filled with warmth. “Just wanted to check in. How’s Jack doing?”

Your throat tightened as you listened. 

“Mr. Hotchner…”

“Yes?”

“Mr. Hotchner…” your fingers gripped the phone tightly as you let out a strangled sob. “I... I can’t find Jack. We– we were playing hide and seek, and now he’s gone. I’ve looked everywhere,” warm tears flowed down your cheeks as you continued, your voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I’ve been l-looking… I swear. I’m really sorry.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end, and you can almost hear Aaron’s heartbeat sync with your frantic pulse. You braced for the incoming screams, expecting him to ridicule your incompetence. After all, you’ve always thought of Mr. Hotchner as someone who never hesitates to pinpoint someone’s inefficiency. Maybe today you’ll have enough luck to prove your theory.

But in a calm voice, Aaron Hotchner said softly instead, “Alright, I need you to stay calm for me, sweetheart. Are you sure you checked everywhere?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you sniffed quietly in relief, rubbing your nose and the tears streaming down your face. “Everywhere. The cabinets, the cupboards, h-his toy box…”

A brief silence fell with that, and you bit your lip in embarrassment. “His toy box? You don’t suppose he’s gonna fit in there, do you?” Aaron sounded like he was trying not to laugh. What a silly, little girl.

“T-that’s not the point, sir!”

“Did you check the front door? Is the back door locked?”

“Yes. I always make sure to lock it.”

“Have you checked my office then?”

“N-no…” you drawled in confusion, frowning as you went back to biting the edge of your nail. “Should I?”

What kind of question is that? Why would you even go there? That’s the only room in his house that you don’t welcome yourself. Mr. Hotchner may have never told you so but you’re fully aware of all the confidential documents he’s storing inside. You can’t afford to be thrown in jail for obstructing a case because you have mistaken a case file as trash and thrown it out.

“It’s worth a look. Jack likes playing in there when I’m working,” Aaron’s tone suddenly shifted, his voice turning quiet as he started with his order. “There’s a wooden crate beside my desk, check that first.”

You hesitated. “But, I don—”

“Just check, sweetheart, please,” Aaron interrupted, gently but firmly as always. “I trust you.”

The sincerity in his words cut through your anxiety. Aaron trusts you. So you took a deep breath and nodded to yourself before stepping out of his son’s room.

“Jack, you really scared her. You know you’re supposed to come out when you’re called, right?” Aaron’s firm voice filled the kitchen moments later.

Jack glanced at you as if feigning confusion. As you know him well, he was obviously thrilled with the chaos he caused. You sat beside him at the kitchen table, eyeing the little devil while you prepare your own food, listening to his father’s reprimand. Jack’s legs swung back and forth under the table, excitedly munching on a sandwich wrap you made for his lunch.

“I was just hiding, Dad. It’s hide and seek, that’s what I’m supposed to do.” Jack’s small brows furrowed like his father’s as he looked down at his plate.

“Yes, I know, buddy,” A soft sigh rang audible through the line. “But it’s just a game, you can’t hide so well that no one can find you. It’s important to keep everyone safe, especially when I’m not there.”

Jack’s lower lip jutted out even further. “But that’s the point of the game, Dad. Players need to hide well.”

“Yes, buddy, but what I’m saying is…” Aaron sighed again, struggling to weave a perfect explanation for his son. “Everything fun should be done in moderation. You scared her, and me, because we thought something bad happened to you.”

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“Thank you, buddy, but I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to. You made her worry.”

“I...” Jack stopped chewing, looking at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to win.”

The scolding seemed to have hit its mark, and you reached over, ruffling the little guy’s hair. “It’s okay, honey. Just don’t hide so well next time, alright?”

Jack stared at you and nodded solemnly, but then his pout deepened. “Dad grew his beard. I don’t like it.”

You suppressed a smile, glancing at the phone where you could see Aaron’s face on the screen. Despite the grainy connection, you can see the dark shadow of a beard on his jawline. 

Aaron chuckled at what he heard, the sound of his deep voice humorous. “I had to, buddy. It’s hard to shave here every day.”

Jack shrugged as he took a big bite of his food. “You look like a bear.”

“What?!” Aaron said incredulously.

“You should shave, Dad. We’re gonna look like Masha and the Bear when you come home.”

You bit your lip to hold back a laugh, shaking your head.

Only if you were asked, you’d say how the full beard really absolutely suited Aaron. Now he looked rugged— a stark contrast to his usually neat and well-kept appearance. Regardless, he seemed to look even more handsome and manly. And God, he looks so fucking hot he should be put behind the bar.

But well, it’s a good thing no one bothered asking your opinion; how are you supposed to answer in front of a kid, anyway?  

You’ve always admired this man, that’s for sure. He and his neatly ironed suits, clean-cut hair, and authoritative nature had always been an incredible sight to look at— but this new look?

This.

This makes you think of lewd things in broad daylight.

“Well, buddy your best friend doesn’t seem to mind it,” Aaron caught your eye through the screen, a small smile playing on his lips. 

Crimson red dusted on your cheeks with the teasing, but you managed to smile back. “Uhuh, it’s not so bad, Jack. Maybe you’ll get used to it.”

Jack scrunched his nose but didn’t argue any further. Instead, he picked up his sandwich again and took a big bite. You shook your head in amusement, holding Aaron’s gaze on the screen briefly before you had to look away because...

That damn fucking beard.

“Alright, I also have to grab some dinner now,” Aaron said after a few beats of silence. “Jack, be good for her, okay? She might run away if you continue scaring her. We don’t want that, do we?”

Jack nodded, still chewing. “Okay, Dad. No more.”

“I love you, buddy.”

“I love you, too, Dad.”

“And you,” Aaron’s voice softened even more as he addressed you, a soft crinkle present in his eyes. “Thank you. For everything.”

You could only nod, and smile, and look away as your heart pounded against your chest. “No worries. Keep safe, Mr. Hotchner.”

He gave you one last look, his eyes filled with warmth and something you couldn’t decipher, before the call disconnected. With a sigh, you looked back at Jack, who was already reaching for a second sandwich wrap, mumbling about how his father would soon end up like Hagrid.

The soft click echoed in the quiet house as you closed the door behind you. You slipped off your high heels, groaning and wincing in pain, before dropping your keys into the bowl on the console table. The house feels emptier than usual, with Jack spending the night at his Aunt Jessica’s. It was a setup that she and Aaron agreed on before; to let Jack stay overnight every Friday and go home by the afternoon the next day.

As you make your way down the hallway, it doesn’t escape your notice that the kitchen lights are open. You weren’t expecting anyone to be home, not at this late hour anyway, and the sight stopped you in your tracks. Burglar was your first thought.

So naturally, you took several tentative steps closer, peeking around the corner.

Surprise flickered across Aaron’s features as he noticed you, quickly masking it with a strained smile. He was standing by the kitchen island, a half-finished bottle of brandy open.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice rougher than how you remembered months ago, “I didn’t know you’d be back so soon.”

“I should say the same to you.”

You had no idea he’s coming home today. His travel-worn face was illuminated by the warm kitchen light; a glass of amber liquid swirls in the rock glass in his hand. While his eyes were shadowed with something unreadable, never leaving yours. 

You manage a small smile in return, though it feels heavy. “But yeah, the date ended earlier than expected.”

Not just the date but your entire evening hadn’t gone as planned, and you can still feel the weight of disappointment tugging at your shoulders.

Aaron nodded but didn’t say anything about it.

Silence settled between the two of you. His eyes flickered to the drink in his hand, while he took a slow sip, as if buying time. You didn’t dare glance away as you stepped further into the kitchen, leaning against the counter in front of him.

“I didn’t know you’d be home today. How was your trip?” you asked, genuinely curious but also eager to fill the void.

He shrugged, setting the glass down with a soft clink. “Busy. Tiring. The usual.” His gaze returned to you, lingering a moment too long. “You okay?”

The concern in his voice was unmistakable. You nodded, but the gesture also felt hollow. “Yeah, just... you know, one of those nights.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened slightly, and he looked away, staring into his glass. “Want to talk about it?”

You hesitated, not sure if you’re ready to unpack the disappointment just yet, and also considering the fact that he must be tired from his flight. But there’s something in Aaron’s presence that you always found comforting, you just had to go on.

“Maybe later,” you said softly, wandering your eyes around until it landed on the wine shelf. “Can I join you?”

He nodded without hesitation, watching you in silence as you grab a bottle of wine from the rack. Aaron’s eyes met yours again as you settled back, and for a moment, something flickered in their depths— something that makes your heart skip a beat.

Aaron’s eyes were focused on you as you set the bottle on the counter and reach for the corkscrew. The maroon silk of your dress catches the light; it was a simple one, nothing too flashy nor revealing. Just enough to accentuate your figure and compliment your skin well. You don’t understand why heat licked your neck as you became aware of Aaron’s eyes lingering on you.

With a soft pop, the cork comes free, and you pour yourself a generous amount. You took your own seat on the barstool. And with your slow movements, the maroon dress clings to your form, highlighting your curves in a way that makes Aaron’s breath catch.

He tried to look away, but his apprehensive eyes kept returning to you.

“There’s a practice game this Sunday. Jack will be happy to know you’ll be watching,” you cleared your throat, eyes focused on the alcohol swirling around the clear glass.

Aaron took a slow sip of his drink, trying to collect his thoughts, but his gaze kept drifting back to you. The dress, with its silky sheen and soft drape, made you look not just elegant but breathtakingly sexy- a fact that Aaron is finding increasingly hard to ignore.

“Yeah, I’m planning to surprise him tomorrow. Maybe we can pick him up early from Jess? Then we can grab a lunch outside.”

You gave him a smile. “Sure, sounds nice.”

As you settled deeper into the conversation, your attention narrowed down to Aaron. He’s leaning against the marble counter, the soft kitchen light casting a warm glow on him. His beard was slightly thicker than you remember, giving him an almost roguish look that you couldn’t help but find incredibly attractive. And hot.

He’s so hot.

He was clad in one of his work shirts, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms. The shirt fits him well, emphasizing his broad shoulders and the hint of muscle underneath. Even the veins running through the surface of his arm were visible. 

The sight makes your heart flutter, and you found yourself admiring the way he looked tonight, with a brandy glass cradled in his big, calloused hand. You wonder how it would feel to have those strong hands grip you tightly, his fingers playing with your pussy, his lips on your neck.

“So,” Aaron’s voice snapped you out of your reverie, “how was the date?”

You took a sip of your drink, the question making your chest tighten again, but you answered lightly. “It was... okay, I guess? Not what I anticipated, though.”

His eyes are on your face, but they keep flickering to your dress, tracing the line of your collarbone, the soft curve of your shoulder. “What happened?”

“He was nice and all… but I don’t know…” Aaron nodded as you struggled recalling the events of evening, and you can tell he wants more details. “It’s just awkward, as always.”

“Did you go anywhere special?”

“We went to that new Italian place downtown. Dave said the food was great so I wanted to try…” you swirl the wine in your glass, watching the dark liquid catch the light. The movement makes the dress shimmer, and Aaron’s gaze follows the motion, almost mesmerized. “I just thought it’d be better, you know? It’s our third date, anyway.”

Aaron’s gaze softened, and he took a sip of his drink. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. Well, that’s what happens, I guess,” You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease.

“Yeah,” his eyes traveled from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. Aaron’s eyes lingered on you before finally, he spoke again, his tone light but his curiosity evident. 

“Did he at least appreciate the dress? You look... incredible tonight.”

A blush warmed your cheeks, making you giggle to yourself. “He did compliment it, but I don’t think he noticed much beyond that.”

“He’s an idiot then,” Aaron said quickly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Then he looked down, a hint of embarrassment coloring his features. “I mean, it’s a beautiful dress, and it suits you really well.”

The compliment made your smile grow wider.

“You’re looking pretty good yourself,” your cheeks heat up as quickly as you realize what you’ve just said, but you don’t think you have to take it back. “Pakistan’s that rough?”

“You could say that,” Aaron’s eyes flickered with surprise and a touch of pleasure. He straightened slightly, a small, almost bashful yet equally beautiful smile playing on his lips. “I’m pretty sure Jack will volunteer to shave this beard off.”

“But it suits you…” you murmured mostly to yourself, your eyes tracing the line of his jaw and the way the beard added a certain depth to his features. “He’s just teasing you.”

Aaron chuckled, running a hand through his hair, a gesture that draws your attention to the subtle flex of his muscle. “Yeah? I wasn’t sure if it was too much.”

“No, it’s perfect,” you replied, your voice softening. “Makes you look... distinguished.”

He took a slow sip of his brandy, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze makes your pulse quicken, and you find yourself caught in the moment, drowning in his presence and the wetness slowly pooling in between your thighs.

“So you like it?”

Oh, you love it. “Yes.”

Aaron stepped a little closer, settling beside you as you glanced up at him from your seat. The scent of his perfume, mixed with the subtle hint of brandy, filled your senses. His eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

“Tell me about your date,” he said, his tone teasing, but there was an edge of something more in his eyes.

“There’s not much to tell,” you said with a laugh, your voice catching slightly. “It was just... dull and boring.”

“Dull? How so?”

“Just…” you bit your lip lightly, shaking your head as you smiled up at him. “You know.”

“I can’t say I know, doll. Use your words.”

Your heart raced but you didn’t look away. Instead, you stared back at him with the same intensity, blinking through your eyelashes almost innocently. “He… he doesn’t make me feel like you do.”

A beat.

Your heart drummed wildly against your ears.

And Aaron’s eyes darkened with the invitation.

“And how do I make you feel, angel?” he whispered softly.

“Like you actually want me.”

“Which I fucking do,” he leaned in, his breath slowly mingling with yours. “More than you know.”

Aaron’s hand moved to your waist, his touch light but possessive. Your heart pounded wildly as you stared into his eyes.

“Show me then,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with anticipation.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” you breathed, your lips just a hair’s breadth away from his.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly slow and deliberately teasing way.

“Aaron...” you whined, your voice heavy with need. “Please...”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t k-know…”

His grip tightened on your hips, his voice rough and demanding. “I think you’re lying, pretty girl.”

“Aaron...”

“I said,” he asked again, gruffly this time. “What do you want?”

“Want your m-mouth on me, Aaron, please...”

A quick swipe of his tongue wetted his lower lip, and a satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Good girl.”

His hand tightened on your waist, drawing you even closer. And all you knew from that second is the feeling of his hot breath against your skin.

“Aaron-” a low growl rumbled from his chest as your fingers tangled through his hair, pushing him even closer to your dripping cunt. “Tha- God, that feels good…”

Aaron hummed lightly, running the calloused pad of his palm on the soft surface of your thighs, feeling the bumps rising on your skin along with your pleasure. He darted his eyes to your face with his mouth still on your cunt, his lips nibbling your clit, watching you breathe heavily while containing the whine caught right in your throat.

When you propped onto your elbow and met his gaze, you could barely register the drunk look on his eyes.

“I’m c-close…” you whispered, pleadingly so. “Aaron… please…”

You didn’t have to say anything else. The contrast between the softness of his lips and the coarseness of his beard creates a heady, intoxicating burn. The rough graze of his beard against your inner thigh sent shivers down your spine, making you arch your back, forcing yourself closer to his mouth, to his touch; even closer to his heat.

You have never been treated this way– never had a partner who takes pleasure in pleasuring you. The warmth of Aaron’s breath fanned through your clit as he licked and prod his tongue on your entrance, feeling the burning scrape of his stubble with every movement. It’s both gentle and painful, enough to make your skin tingle and your heart race; chasing the heightening pleasure and your incoming orgasm.

“So good, doll…” he whispered roughly, encouragingly, his attention focused only at you. “Fuck, it’s so hot.”

He leaned away only for a moment, straightening his back as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt. In the blink of an eye, the sight of his muscular chest and soft stomach salivated you. You’ve known he’s hairy, but now that you saw the dark trail of hair on his abdomen down to his…

Aaron looked smug.

“Dirty girl, like what you’re seeing?”

You hummed hoarsely. “Want you, please. D-daddy?”

Aaron groaned at your words. And you noticed how his palm flew to the obvious bulge on his pants, squeezing his aching cock as if your words hurt him. Or pleased him, you don’t know. All you registered was the faint satisfaction in his smile and the glint of hunger in his piercing eyes.

He ran his palm on your thighs lovingly. “Cum on Daddy’s mouth first. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

Although he posed that as a question, you knew it was an order. And who are you to defy him when he generously licked through your folds and sucked on your clit like a starved man? He’s not devouring you like relinquishing his final meal; instead, like you are the very first meal he ever tasted and cannot get enough of. He eats you like someone will take you away from him. But even if they do, he wants to make sure it’s his mouth and big cock you’ll crawl back to.

The world seemed so far away as you let yourself drown in the pleasure, all while Aaron occasionally fucks his tongue in and out of your needy cunt.

“Close, angel?” he asked before spitting on your pussy and swirling his tongue on your clit. “You taste like heaven, baby.”

You nodded dumbly.

“You’ve no idea how many nights I fucked my fist to this thought.”

Your release inched closer, roused by his deep groans and heavy breathing. You were not even past the vulgar image of him spitting on your cunt when you felt one of his fingers gently swiping through your wetness, his touch light as a ghost, and you shuddered as you realized what will come next.

You gasped and moaned, and grabbed a fistful of his hair on both of your hands. “Need you n-now, please… enough…”

“Just one, angel. Just give me one on my tongue,” he demanded, his eyes dark with need. “You can do that for Daddy, right baby? I’ll fuck you good later, I promise.”

You clenched around his finger as he slowly slid into you, then out, slowly gaining rhythm and speed that reflected your racing heart. He thrust in and out, and in and out, until he decided you could take another finger, then another one. You’ve never felt so full, but good God if you say you didn’t fantasize about getting fingerfucked by your boss, you’d be sent to hell for lying.

He nibbled. He sucked. He licked. His fingers never once stopped assaulting your wet, squelching cunt. With every drag of his fingers and swipe of his tongue, you could hear a deep growl rumbling through his chest. And his eyes watched you, taking in the way you writhe in pleasure, the way your thighs tremble, and how your eyes welled in tears.

“Please… p-please…” you whimpered pathetically, your fingers tightening on his hair. “C-close, ‘m so close… daddy…”

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Come on, be a good girl.”

“D-daddy!” you screamed loudly when his teeth grazed your now sensitive clit.

“Fucking cum for me. Make me proud, angel.”

Your eyes rolled at the back of your head as your orgasm ripped through you. His words grew distant as it happened, showering you still with lewd praises: how good you taste, how warm and tight your cunt would be, and how he expects you to take his big cock.

“S-stop… A-” you trashed away from his grip. “Too m-much. D-daddy, no! Stop! S-stop! Too much!”

His fingers continued abusing the sensitive nerves deep inside you, groaning loudly as your walls tightened around him. “A little more, sweet girl. One more for Daddy…”

“N-no–” Tears slid down your cheeks in overstimulation, feeling the rough drag of his fingers inside your tight cunt and his lips on your clit. “Oh, g-god! I’m close again… D-daddy! Don’t s-stop, p-please!”

“Good girl, angel. Look at you... that’s it, baby.”

He trailed wet kisses along your skin as he moved upward, kneading your tits, lingering a bit longer on your hardened nipples. You haven’t gone down from your last orgasm when you already felt the tip of his cock prodding at your pulsating cunt.

You whimpered weakly, not fully aware of your surrounding anymore.

“Hey, hey…” you heard Aaron whisper, his voice soft and gentle, caressing your face lovingly as he observed your expression. “Good? Do you want to stop, sweetheart?”

You shook your head. “I will kill you if you stop.”

“Ah,” he let out a hoarse chuckle. “Yes, Ma’am.”

His pace was slow at first, achingly so and deliberate. But it didn’t last long. From laying on your back on the cold, marble kitchen counter, you found yourself bent over on the kitchen table, with Aaron’s girthy cock ramming in and out of your cunt. And all you could do was take it, moaning loudly to Aaron’s satisfaction.

“Fucking hell. Should’ve fucked this pussy long before–” he rambled deeply from behind, pistoling his hips at a brutal pace. “You like this, huh? You like Daddy fucking your tight pussy?”

You bit your thumb as your legs trembled, but you didn’t answer.

And that’s when you felt it.

A harsh slap on your ass.

“Answer me, you fucking slut,” he drawled in between heavy breaths. “Did I fuck you dumb, huh?”

“Y-yes–” you struggled to say, trying to keep your legs steady amidst the intense waves of pleasure. “G-good… so much…”

Aaron barked an amused laugh. “Fuck. You sound so cockdrunk.”

With each thrust, you felt the familiar coil tightening on your stomach. Your words were muffled as you tried to warn him, and all that came out of your lips was a high-pitched whimper. 

Aaron’s grip on your hips hardened. “I’m c-close. Where should I cum, angel? Inside? Should I cum inside?”

“C-close…” you echoed mindlessly, not understanding a word he said.

“Do you want me to fuck a baby inside you?”

“Yes… y-yes… inside, Daddy, please....”

Tears streamed down your cheeks when you felt Aaron’s hot cum spill inside you, his thick cock throbbing. You trembled against him as you reached your own climax, your lips drawn to a silent scream as he expertly rubbed your clit through your orgasm.

“One more. Can you give Daddy one more, sweet girl?” you heard him whisper encouragingly.

With a strained moan and eyes shut tight, you finally let out a gush of release. The force was so sudden Aaron had to pull out and watch his own cum drip down your thighs. His eyes widened a fraction as he stared at the pool of wetness glistening on his kitchen floor.

And fucking hell, that felt so good.

Aaron didn’t waste a second and quickly knelt behind you, separating your weak and trembling legs carefully before running his tongue on your spent and dripping cunt. You shivered at the feeling of his beard scratching the back of your thigh but you let him, enjoying the feeling of his tongue following the trail of his own release that drips down your legs.

“Too m-much, Aaron. Please…” you plead softly, sighing as you felt his fingers spread out your pussy.

“Just a taste, angel. Can you push out more of my cum?”

He keened and hummed as he gathered his own release on his tongue. And before you even know it, he was already kissing you, watching his own cum and spit reach your waiting tongue as you innocently glanced up at him, a far-gone look on your face.

“You’re such a sweet girl,” he whispered later on as he gently laid you down on his warm bed, now wrapped in his old, oversized t-shirt and newly bathed.

He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, and cheeks, then nose, before kissing you lovingly on the lips. “Rest now, sweetheart. I’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.”

For tag list request, here.

Your girl finally got her energy back after taking 4 pills of Vitamin B. LOL. Sorry for the long wait! Anyway, as always, likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated. Hope you're having an incredible day and drink your water! (PS. Do you guys know I just realized I can reblog your reblogs with comments? I'm so dumb.)

Tags: @kimstills @readergf @downbad4reid @gghostwriter @elhotchner @pastelpinkflowerlife @the1boss @roseydoesypoesy @khxna @hangmanscoming @apollolynx98 @its-just-me-chey

[etfrin]

❝ ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ higher with my lover — coriolanus snow ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ ❞

☆　Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), riding, handjob, mentions of blood & blood sucking, Capitol! Reader, reader is mentioned to be a virgin, mentions of poison and death, district+lucy gray slander (necessary to the plot), mention of Sejanus, degradation & praise kink if you squint, dry humping | lmk if I missed anything!

☆　Pairing: fem! Reader x young! peacekeeper! Coriolanus Snow

☆　Summary: Lucy Gray left but you find him in the forest instead and shit goes down

☆　A/N: this fic is inspired by the fact that i imagined myself to be the one sucking the 'poisoned bite' and be like now we both die and i like you lmao, i hope you guys like it!

Ps. This is the official canon ending :D

Ps². Listened to this song mainly to write the smut, so i am just gonna leave it here. . .

| masterlist | taglist | bc: @cafekitsune |

“Lucy Gray! Are you trying to kill me!?”

Coriolanus Snow yelled as he kept pointing the gun in random directions. It wasn't long after that he began shooting in the sky causing the murder of numerous mockingjays up in the air.

He had found the necklace, he had found the scarf. She left. She was a loose end. She needs to die, fucking die so Snow could have the life he deserved. The life he worked for, the life he was entitled to since birth. The life of a Snow.

“Lucy Gray! We can talk about this!” He yells out, “Just come out!” But Lucy Gray was nowhere to be found, as if she was a ghost. As if she was the Lucy Gray from the song, a mystery to never be found.

He pointed his gun in the direction where he heard the sound of a twig snapping. It wasn't Lucy Gray but you. Your eyes were wide, chest heaving as you slowly walked towards him with your hands raised. “Coryo,” you whispered, scared, your feet walking towards him with hesitation but never flattering.

He had no idea how you had found him. He wasn't sure why you were either here. It was already too much for him that Sejanus came (and now he is dead, dead, dead. The third person he had killed). And you followed him too, pulling in favors, deciding to be a medic along with Sejanus, serving time with your best friends (not his, he never considered you or Sej as his friend).

“Where's Lucy Gray!?” He yelled, walking towards you, gun still pointed. It makes you walk backward until your back hits the hard bark of a tree. The rough texture of the bark is uncomfortable due to your thin shirt. You scrunch your nose at the mention of her. You never liked her much. He didn't know why but perhaps it was all a ruse just for this very moment. This very betrayal from her.

“How would I know?” You scoffed, the haughty attitude of a Capitol citizen coming through despite having a gun pointed at you. He pressed the end of the gun at your chest. “Tell me the truth,” he growled. “That girl tried to poison me. Tell me where she is!”

“I don't know,” you hiss back, your eyes ablaze. “And get the gun out of my face. You should be heading to a fucking medic right now. Are you sure she poisoned you?” Your voice was now laced with concern, eyes softening as you looked at him, his t-shirt clinging to him with sweat, his cheeks flushed, eyes so wide that the blues were hidden with black instead.

Coryo gets the gun away from you to put his arm forward. Showing you his snake bite, the puncture wound oozing out beads of red blood on his snow-like skin. “It's probably non-poisonous,” you said, trying to sound optimistic.

“No, it's not!” He growls, and anger fills in every movement and word of his. “She's trying to kill me. She's district! I shouldn't have- shouldn't have-” You hold his arm, your fingers around his wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“It's fine,” you whispered, trying your best that the tone you use with him is soft and gentle. You want to shake him out of the mental breakdown that was happening. He shakes his head and you press your fingertips into the wound.

“It's fine,” you whispered, “let's get you back. Come on.” You try to urge him forward, only for him to pull himself out of your grasp. “No! I need to find her. She's a loose end. She will tell. She's a snake, not a songbird,” he rambles.

Despite the confusion you felt with his words, you grit your teeth. “Come on, Coryo! We need to head back,” you said, your hand on his wrist, trying to drag him out of the middle of the green forest.

“No! We need to find her out before the poison works” he yells, pulling you back and pushing you. Pinning you effectively between him and a tree.

You glare at him before a moment of impulsivity takes over you. You take his arm, your mouth around the bleeding wound and you suck letting whatever ‘poisoned blood’ onto your tongue. His eyes widen as he sees the redness of his blood now painting your lips. “Now can we go back?” You said as you licked the blood clean. “Because if it's poison, we will both die.”

“Why would-” he visibly freezes. He doesn't want your blood on his hands. No- it would be on Lucy's hands. It's her fault. Everything is her fault. “Why would you do that?” He whispered, leaning closer to you, his face now mere inches away from yours. It was like he was seeing you for the first time. Like he never saw you for you until now. Someone like him. Unhinged (not that he's willing to admit it).

He hooks his fingers under your chin, holding your jaw and tilting your lips towards his. His eyes were searching for sanity but seemed to have found none as a smile (filled with insanity) spread on his face. “You're crazy,” he whispered, “Are you that desperate?”

“Desperate for your well-being, Coryo,” you whispered, hating the fact that your gaze fell on his soft-looking lips. “I don't know what's wrong, Coriolanus. But come with me, let's go back. Lucy Gray isn't worth anything.”

“Lucy Gray is worth everything!” He yelled, pressing his body with yours, pain in your bones flaring as he without noticing crushed you.

“I am sure she will have poison for you too. I am sure she will come back then,” you spit out. You felt outrageous at his behavior. “She ran, didn't she? To the North. You gonna go there too, Coryo?” you questioned, your eyes now meeting his. You try to find an answer but find something deeply tangled instead, neither a yes or a no.

You never felt such pity for Coriolanus Snow before as you did now. You put your palm on his cheek. “Come with me,” you said, softening your voice. “Back to the peacekeepers, the general told me about District 2 and I can put in favors so we can be back in the Capitol in no time.”

“You didn't choose Sejanus,” you whispered, the mention of Sej causing him to freeze. “Choose me,” you plead, feeling pathetic for being reduced to this. But it was for your Coryo so it was worth it. Wasn't it?

A chip from the bird makes him look away but you use your hand to make him face you again. Tears begin to pool in your eyes. You find your heart preparing itself for a rejection. “Choose me,” you choke out, a sob in your throat ready to come out when he says no, no, no Lucy Gray it is, never you.

You wait and wait for the rejection, your eyelids closing themselves so he doesn't see himself (or the way you looked at him with love) in the reflective tears. “Look at me,” he whispered, feeling his hot breath on your lips now. And you didn't want to listen but your eyes opened back up, light coming in and he's in your sight.

All glorious as you always thought of Snow.

Snow lands on top.

Haven't every Capitol child learned that from history? You were no exception. And you never planned to be. Even after finding out the truth about his situation, you never thought less of him, if anything everything you felt about him increased tenfold without your consent. Oh, how you should hate him. Oh, but how much you love him.

He leaned in and you didn't move. He stops for a mere second as if reconsidering his decision. But then decided to fuck it because the next thing you know his lips against yours.

He tasted like cheap alcohol, he tasted like ruin and danger. You ate it all up by parting your lips so his tongue could slip in. You let out a moan as his teeth bite into your lips. For a moment you think he's a snake and that he's the one poisoning you. His poison is more potent than an actual snake’s ever could be.

You were simple prey, that's it. Instead of a bullet, he was shooting your heart with a kiss. And it was working because in the future he will be the end of you. A slow, slow poison, he controlled the kiss despite the way his tongue slid against yours was clumsy but so perfect.

You kissed him back to the best of your abilities, wondering briefly if you tasted like the pastry you had in the morning. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth to suck and bite however he wants. Your hands find his buzz cut instead of his golden curls and a whine leaves your lips from the frustration of the loss.

Your hand is on his nape and another is still on his cheek as neither of you breaks the kiss. It didn't matter that you were getting lightheaded. It didn't matter that you could feel your heartbeat increasing due to lack of oxygen. He was everything, you would be damned if you broke the kiss.

You gasp as the kiss is broken. You stare into his eyes, searching for something, anything. But you find nothing but ice blue. It sent chills down your spine but at least he had calmed down now. “Feeling better?” You asked and you got a rough nod as a reply.

“Come on, we have work to do,” he whispered as he pulled back. His dog tag dangles as he begins to walk towards the cabin again, navigating the path with his father's compass.

You find the cabin and the guns. Coriolanus looks at you waiting for a protest, disgust, expecting you to run away just like Lucy Gray. You didn't do anything except sigh, your shoulder wearing down as you realized the truth of it all. You didn't say a word but your hand finds his. He doesn't say anything either but squeezes your hand back. An unspoken promise. He had chosen you. You had chosen him. You were in this together now.

There's no going back.

Both of you row the boat and let the guns sink into the river, never to be found again. You find your way back to the cabin, the rain pouring down again. You sit beside Snow- no, no, still Coryo. Always Coryo. Your head on his shoulder, your knees pressed to your chest as you hear the tip tap of rain outside.

Not a single sound is made. But as time passes and the rain doesn't stop, you begin to crave his lips again. As if that one kiss was morphine, and you needed more to heal the ache of your soul. “Coriolanus,” you whispered.

“Coryo,” he reprimanded softly, his tone enticing as if he was trying to bewitch. You feel your palms sweat as embarrassment begins to nag your mind. You blurt it out before you can think about how pathetic you sound.

“Can I have another kiss, Coryo?”

The next few moments were a blur. Lips on lips. Clumsily tongues meeting each other and whining into each other's mouths. You were shamelessly grinding on Coryo's lap as your lips continued to stay locked with his. “I want you so bad,” you admit as you feel his cock harden underneath you.

“Since the academy,” you whispered against his lips, a moan escaping your lips when he held your hips and began to guide them to grind on his completely hard bulge.

“Oh, yeah?” He mocks, “It's pretty fucking obvious.” He choked off a groan coming out of his mouth, “You're willing to let go of the fact that I am a murderer, huh?” You let out a whimper as he mentioned that. But both of you knew the answer to that, a part of you knew what kind of predator he was. Ever since you knew about how he killed a tribute, you just called it. It never mattered to you how horrible he could be or in this case, is.

“Yes, yes,” you moan into his mouth. Was it an answer or a mere whine about how perfect the friction felt against your pantie-soaked pussy? You didn't know but Coriolanus thought of it as the former. “You gonna be my girl, then? A capitol princess being a peacekeepers’ doll to fuck,” he whispered, his tongue licking a strip of skin on your neck.

You moan as his teeth begin to harshly assault your skin, covering your neck with marks. “Yes,” you gasp, “as long as it's you.” God, how much more pathetic could you be? But it didn't matter, it got him higher and fed his ego after everything that had happened. He loved it and perhaps, he could grow to love you.

Not in the way, Coryo loved Lucy Gray but in the way Snow would love his First Lady.

Your hands tug off his wet t-shirt and throw it on the floor. His hands do the same with your peacekeeper's uniform. He grabs your hips, squeezing the plump of flesh there, his mouth panting into you and he looks at you with dilated eyes.

Time seems to have slowed down as you touch his dog tag, your fingers tracing the name carved into the metal. “I want this. You, right now, right here,” you whispered like it was the biggest secret of your life. “Do you?” You ask as your hands go lower to fiddle with the zipper of his pants.

He doesn't give you a verbal answer, only pulling you into another kiss with his fingers woven into your hair in a fist as his free hand goes down below to free his cock from the confines of his trousers.

You grip his length, stroking it and squeezing out pearly pre-cum from the tip. You savor the deep groan that leaves his lips. “Fuck… just like that, doll,” he instructed and you obey. Your strokes get faster and his pre becomes natural lube as you continue. He lets out a hiss when you twist your wrist and his hand snares around your wrist. “Wanna cum in your cunt first,” he said, breathless from the ecstasy of having your hands on him.

Within moments the remaining clothes on both of you were scattered around the cabin. You moan into his mouth, your fingers desperately clawing at his shoulders as you begin to grind your soaking wet pussy against his hard cock. You gasp, elated by how your folds pressed against his length, his cockhead being teased by your slit but unable to breach the threshold.

The kisses you shared with him were sloppy. Saliva coating his chin as neither of you was willing to separate your lips for a single unnecessary moment. You knew your lips would hurt by the end of this, that they were swollen and the inside of it bleeding because of how insistently his teeth loved to bite your lower lip. He was no better either. You tasted more blood from the kisses now than anything, and it didn't matter to you because somehow the salty, rusty taste felt like just him.

You let out a sound unfitting of a Capitol-raised woman when his cockhead slips inside your gummy walls. His tip now profusely leaks pre-cum inside your gummy walls. You pulled back, biting your lower lip to stop the whimper as you feel his cockhead stretching out your virgin walls.

“That's it, dove,” he lets out, all needy and heated. His hands squeeze your hips to be encouraging as you let yourself down on his cock slowly. “Take it all in. You can do it, doll,” he whispered, as his eyes were down looking at his length entering you, being surrounded by the wicked, addicting warmth of your tight cunt.

“I can?” You let out a whine, as the pain bleeds into the pleasure, the ratio of it throwing you off the dizzy full lust. He hums in encouragement as you finally fill yourself with his dick to the hilt. Your slick walls pulsate around his length.

“Atta girl,” he smiles at you, his eyes brightening up from how well you took him and without any complaints whatsoever. “That's a good slut,” he whispered and smirked when he felt your walls clench around him deliciously.

You tried to move your hips but gave up when the burn made your eyes water. He coos at you encouragingly, telling you to adjust to his girth first. He wasn't going to rut into you like a dog, you're a Capitol girl, not a district whore. He wasn't going to disrespect you like that, no matter how much he wanted you to begin rolling your hips.

So your lips latch onto his neck, while your arms are around him and your legs around his waist. You were clinging to him, as if afraid that if you ease up in your grip he will fade away from your life, from this moment and your reality together. The smell of sex and sweat begins to become stronger than the smell of gunpowder as you continue to give him hickeys in various places on his skin.

Coriolanus doesn't complain that you're marking him like this, not when he's doing the same task with his tongue tracing the love bites his teeth left. And you suspect he rather enjoys when you bite, as his cock twitches whenever your teeth dig into his flesh as if you're eating and your wet tongue licks over the bite as if you're tasting the flavor of his skin.

When you're finally comfortable with his cock being inside the most intimate part of you. You slowly but surely begin to make small, shallow thrusts that have you gasping, your eyes rolling back with how good it feels already because he was fucking into your g-spot with every roll of your hips. The thrusts were teasing, it had him groaning praises of you being a good girl and his hold tightening over your hips, surely leaving bruises.

You begin to relish the feeling of being stuffed, his cockhead kissing your cervix when you get the angle just right. Your folds coat him with your creamy juices, a ring of white forming on his base with how wet you were. Slowly but surely the pleasure begins to build up, your nails digging into his shoulders as you start to put up force with the way you rock back and forth on his cock.

You pant into his mouth, your lips letting out sharp moans when his dick strokes your walls just right. He lets you control the pace, his mouth busy latching onto your nipple to suck. His tongue swirls around the bud, hardening it inside his mouth and he nips your nipple just to have you jolt from the bite and squeeze down on his cock.

One of his hands now kneads the other breast he wasn't giving much attention to, his fingers rolling the nipple, pinching the bud, and playing with it. His other hand goes between your bodies and finds your clit. You soon realize he was working with a pattern that was driving you insane, turning your cunt into a hotter slicker mess.

When he swirled his tongue around your nipple, his fingers did roll the other bud. Meanwhile, his thumb would drive small, rapid circles onto your swollen bundle of nerves. When he bit into your nipple, his fingers pinched your clit making you gasp with thunderous pleasure filling your veins.

He continues at this and tension begins to build up in your tummy. You close your eyes as animalistic instincts begin to take over your body. The need to cum overrides everything else as you begin to roll your hips faster and harder. Desperate to cum around his cock for the first time of many times in your life. He feels the same way because he encourages you with his hips bucking into you, thrusting perfectly inside of your slick walls.

“So close, Coryo!” You moan, your nails leaving red lines in their path on his shoulders. He latches off your breasts to whisper, “Cum then, my slut. Let me feel you milk my cock like a good cockwhore would.” You let out a louder moan at his words. His condescending tone snaps the tension that had formed in your tummy, you begin to cum.

Your pussy spasming around his cock, triggering his orgasm. He empties his balls inside of you without any hesitation, filling you up with his thick, hot cum. “That's a good girl. Look how well you took me. Look at the cum leaking out, dove,” his tone teasing, like many times he has teased in classes but the context of this was entirely different.

You look down, your pussy clenching around his cock again when you see his seed ooze out of you. Your body slumps into him, tired from all of this. Both mentally and physically. The storm was still going on. You lay in his arms, his cum now coating the insides of your thighs.

“You're smarter than Lucy Gray,” he said, “I pray you know better than to run. I won't miss the next time.”

You shake your head, trying to hide the smile forming on your face. Others would have run from his words, anyone sane would. Lucy Gray did after all. But you were just you.

“If I wanted to run, I wouldn't have found you in the first place,” you whispered, sealing your words with a soft kiss on his lips.

Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @dollfacedalls @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy @littlebiwitchsworld @eir964

@skywalker1dream @darkangelkathiecookiesmith @ben-has-arrived @bucksdonkey @xyzstar @ellie-luvsfics @sunny-deary @daughter1of2anita3dearly @eir964 @nowsyhozey @ayaya-aa @serving-targaryen-realness @hansbasement @louweasleymalfoy @lettersandwhiteroses @arzua10 @wotcherpeak @ever8ea @daughter-of-the-stars11 @blippys-blog @iguanagwen @moonlight-by-the-sea @snowlandstop @badbleep88 @hobireasns @floswife @weeeoosworld @ludasgf

@sushirolliee @poppyflower-22 @dilucpegg3r @sleepysongbirdsings @cupids-scream-queen @fyhhuu

[rafecameronssl4t]

Im so obsessed with all your canon fics AND ur rafe x thorton!reader 😭 are u able to do one based off s2 ep 8 where topper is tryna look for his sister at tannyhill even though rafe and reader had a huge argument and weren’t on speaking terms and rafe gets all protective when topper says “I’ll just track her”

Tracked || Rafe Cameron x Thorton!reader

idk where this gif is from soz :(

A/n: thank uuuuuuu 💗 hope u like this :)

Warnings: slut-shaming, swearing, if there’s anything else lmk

Word count: 745

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

"It's seven feet high, plated in gold, and encrusted with diamonds. What do you think?" The guy's tone dripped with condescension. Rafe's eyes narrowed as he scoffed, "I was just asking."

The low rumble of an approaching vehicle drew their attention. The sound grew louder until a high-rise car came into view, gliding to a stop nearby. The door opened with a careful click, and out stepped Topper.

"Shit," Rafe muttered under his breath. He straightened up, eyes narrowing further as Topper approached. "Hey, Rafe," Topper greeted, his voice attempting to be calm but betraying a hint of nervousness. "I've got no beef, man. I'm just looking for Y/n."

At the mention of your name, Rafe's expression darkened, a deep frown setting on his lips. His jaw clenched as he took a step forward, practically bristling with irritation. "Y/n's not here," he snapped, each word dripping with disdain. "Go find her somewhere else."

He waved a dismissive hand, already turning his back on Topper, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation. Topper furrowed his eyebrows, confusion and frustration evident on his face. "What do you mean, Y/n's not here? She's nowhere else on this goddamn island." Rafe looked at him in disbelief. "How would I know where your sister is, huh?"

Topper opened his mouth to retort but then shut it, the words dying on his lips. Rafe's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and hurt. "And one thing you should know, Top," Rafe's voice was calm, though his expression remained hard, "I got nothing against you, even though you totally punked me the other night."

Topper scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "Really? Were you too coked-out to remember slut-shaming my sister?" His hands flew to his head in a mocking gesture, mimicking a crazy person.

Rafe's expression darkened instantly at Topper's words. He lunged forward aggressively, forcing Topper to retreat a step. "Slut-shaming? I wasn't slut-shaming her," Rafe spat back, his voice growing louder and more defensive with each word. "I was provoked, all right?" His frustration was palpable as he took a few more menacing steps forward, his eyes blazing with anger.

Topper nervously wetted his lips, sensing the volatile energy in the air. "All right, man," he muttered, attempting to defuse the escalating tension as he backed toward his car.

Rafe's anger flared, his eyes burning with intensity. "You think I want her hanging around those fucking pogues? Huh?" he shouted, his voice dripping with rage and disdain. Topper stopped in his tracks, turning back to face him.

"Is that what you really think?" Rafe continued, his voice rising with every word. "Your sister is on a pedestal, and she keeps stooping low to hang out with those pogues!" His rant echoed in the tense silence, each word laced with venom. Topper stayed silent, his expression unreadable.

"Is that where she is? Is she with those pogues?" Topper finally questioned, his annoyance simmering just below the surface, the idea gnawing at him. "Where the hell else would she be? Huh?" Rafe walked toward Topper, his tone mocking. "Unless she found some other sucker. Yeah?" He spat, his anger evident. Topper shook his head, a realization dawning on him.

"I can just track her," Topper suddenly realized, pulling out his phone as he walked back to his car. "I completely forgot. I can track her on my phone."

Rafe's eyebrows furrowed as he watched Topper. "What? Are you spying on her?" he demanded, his voice rising with suspicion, his eyes narrowing.

"No, I'm not spying on her!" Topper snapped, exhaling sharply in frustration. "She's my sister, and I care about her. I just want to make sure she's okay after that stunt you pulled on her the other day."

Rafe slowly nodded, his lips pursed in thought. As Topper reached for his car door, his fingers brushing the handle, Rafe lunged forward and yanked the phone out of his hand.

"Jeez, give me my phone back," Topper argued, his voice tinged with irritation and a hint of desperation. He reached out, trying to grab the phone, but Rafe held it just out of his reach, a smirk playing on his lips.

"What? Calm down, all right? Just wanna make amends with her." Rafe chuckled, his tone mocking. He glanced at the screen, his expression unreadable, "What the hell is she doing on the cut?" He scoffed, rolling his tongue against his cheek before tossing the phone back at Topper and turning away.

"Rafe!" Topper called out, frustration and desperation mingling in his voice. Rafe didn't stop. "Go home, Top," he called back, his voice fading as he walked away.

~

"I can't believe he did that!" You cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks as Pope patted your back gently, and JJ handed you another tissue. "In front of all those people, too," you sniffled, feeling a mix of hurt and disbelief.

"What he did was pretty fucked up, but it showed his true colors, right?" Pope said, his tone hopeful, trying to offer some perspective as you shook your head. The two boys exchanged a look of concern. "No, no, that wasn't him that night," you said quietly, your fingers fidgeting with your ring. "You're right, it was the devil—" JJ began, but you cut him off sharply.

"No, JJ. He was high out of his mind. I-I thought he only did it occasionally, but..." Your voice faltered, overwhelmed with disappointment and confusion. This time, Pope interjected gently. "Y/n, he's always been a coke addict. You just never noticed," Pope said softly, his words carrying the weight of a truth that was hard to accept.

“But still—” You’re abruptly cut off by JJ, who shushes you sharply. “That’s rude—” you start again, only to be silenced once more as JJ places a firm finger on your lips. You stare at him, puzzled. “Did you guys hear that?” he whispers, his eyes darting around.

“I think someone’s here.” Pope and JJ exchange a serious glance and immediately get to their feet. “Stay here,” JJ instructs firmly. You sniffle and nod, whispering, “‘kay”

“Where the fuck is she?” Rafe’s voice echoes, the door slamming shut behind him. “She doesn’t want to see you, man,” JJ interjects firmly as Rafe scoffs incredulously.“Yeah, she—she tell you that, huh?” Rafe’s disbelief is palpable as he glares at the two friends.

“Y/n! Come out! I know you’re in there!” Rafe’s voice grows louder and more desperate from outside. Inside, you sit up at the sound of his plea. “I told you, she doesn’t—” JJ starts, but Rafe cuts him off sharply.

“Shut the fuck up, pogue,” Rafe groaned in frustration, his patience wearing thin as he glanced between JJ and Pope. “Listen, I just need to talk to her, okay? I’m not gonna do anything, she’s my fucking girlfriend,” he insisted, his voice carrying a mix of exasperation and longing, pleading for understanding.

JJ and Pope exchange a glance, their expressions hesitant and protective. “Not a chance—” JJ starts to say, but you cut in decisively, causing all three of them to turn and look at you. “It’s fine,” you call out, your voice steady yet laced with emotion. You meet Rafe’s softened gaze, swallowing hard before continuing. “You want to talk? I’m right here, Rafe. Talk.”

[cumironi]

GOJO : NOWHERE TO BE FOUND! s. geto

☆ sum. is it acceptable to geto when you have him all to yourself but still moping around for gojo who’s away for a mission? absolutely not. but. . . is it acceptable for him to remind you who you are with? absolutely yes. so yeah, gojo is nowhere to be found, while geto? he is between your legs.

warning. established relationship au, poly relationships, pet names, praise, creampied, unprotected sēx, fluff, jealous geto, bear with me please :'), #longfic.

gojo’s version | request by anon.

the morning light seeps through the open door, casting a soft glow around gojo as he stands in front of you, his figure backlit by the gentle sunrise. it almost gives him an ethereal quality, as if he’s already slipping away, and your heart tightens at the thought. the birds are chirping melodiously in the distance, a sound that would normally bring you peace. but today, their song seems too cheerful, a painful contrast to the ache settling in your chest.

you tighten your hold on gojo’s hands, your fingers clinging to his as if you could keep him here just a little longer. the pout on your lips deepens as you gaze up at him, eyes tracing every detail of his face, as though memorizing it for the days you’ll be apart. “how long will you be gone?” you ask quietly, voice laced with the sadness you’re trying to hold back, though it slips through in each word.

gojo’s eyes soften as he looks down at you, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his lips, though his usual playful spark is subdued. “just a week,” he murmurs, giving your hands a reassuring squeeze, his thumb tracing slow circles over your knuckles. “it’ll fly by, you’ll see.”

“just a week?” you echo, your voice tinged with disbelief. “that’s easy for you to say. for me, it’ll feel like forever.” you give his hands another squeeze, refusing to let go, as if your grip alone could keep him from stepping through that door.

from your side, you hear an exasperated sigh, and you don’t even need to look to know that geto’s standing there, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and mild irritation. “you act like he’s going away for a year,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “it’s just a week, you’ll survive.”

you shoot him a quick glare, though it’s half-hearted, more a habit than anything, before turning back to gojo, who’s watching the exchange with a hint of amusement in his gaze. “ignore him,” you mumble, a slight whine in your tone. “i just... i don’t like when you’re gone, ’toru. it’s too quiet without you around.”

gojo can’t help but chuckle at your words, his heart warming at the way you look up at him with those pleading eyes and puffed up pout, as if trying to convince him not to leave for the mission— you almost did. “i’m sorry, my sweet,” he murmurs, voice soft and loving, “i wish i didn’t have to go, but you know how it is. duty calls.”

he gives your hands a light squeeze, his thumb brushing against your knuckles in a soothing gesture, trying to comfort you. “but hey, it’s just a week. i’ll be back before you know it.”

geto rolls his eyes at the tenderness in gojo’s voice, his arms remaining crossed as he leans against the doorframe. his expression is a mixture of irritation and mild jealousy. “you’re coddling her too much,” he mutters, a hint of disapproval in his tone. “you know how dramatic she gets every time you leave. and you’re just making it worse by babying her,” he continues.

gojo looks over at geto with a hint of annoyance in his eyes, his grip on your hands tightening ever so slightly. “i’m not coddling her,” he retorts, a slight bite in his tone. “i’m just trying to comfort her. she’s allowed to be upset, you know.” geto just snorts, shaking his head. “yeah, but she acts like you’re leaving for a year every time,” he says, still with that slightly jealous edge, sharp eyes but narrowing without a bite. “it’s ridiculous.”

you ignore geto’s grumbling, his words rolling right off your shoulders as you focus solely on gojo, gaze softening as you look up at him. his eyes, as blue as the sky just starting to lighten behind him, meet yours with that familiar warmth, and you feel your heart squeeze at the thought of him being away, even if just for a week. without another word, you slip your arms around his waist, pressing yourself against him, your cheek resting on the sturdy fabric of his jujutsu uniform.

“can i come with you?” you mumble softly, your voice carrying a hint of hope, though both of you know it’s impossible. there’s a gentle desperation in your words, like if you asked just right, maybe—just maybe—he’d take you along, and you wouldn’t have to spend the next seven days missing him.

gojo’s heart softens at the way you cling to him, and he gut-wrenchingly instinctive lifts his arms to wrap around you, holding you close against him. he looks down at you, a mix of love and guilt in his gaze. his hands run gently through your hair, touch gentle and soothing. “you know i’d love to have you by my side, sweet girl,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a hint of apology, “but it’s too dangerous for you. i can’t take that risk. and i don’t think the higher-ups would like that very much.”

you huff against his chest, your pout only deepening as you snuggle closer, pressing your forehead into his shoulder, now. “well, maybe they need to lighten up,” you grumble, your voice muffled but clear enough to make him laugh again. his laughter vibrates through his chest, and you feel it resonate within you, easing some of the ache of separation you’re already feeling.

gojo can’t help but chuckle at your defiance, finding it endearing, even as he knows you’re just grumbling to get a reaction. he continues to thread his fingers through your hair, the other hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “they can be a bunch of hardasses, that’s for sure,” he agrees, a hint of amusement in his voice. “but still, i won’t risk your safety, love. i’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you. you know that.”

geto, still leaning against the doorframe, lets out an exaggerated sigh. “love,” he mimics, his voice tinged with mild disgust jealousy as he rolls his eyes, his irritation at the show of affection evident. “you’re nauseating,” he mutters, crossing his arms again, “can you both stop being so damn adorable? god, it’s too early for this.”

before you even get the chance to respond, geto’s hand is on your head, guiding you gently but firmly away from gojo. “alright, that’s enough of the mushy stuff,” he says, his tone carrying a hint of amusement despite his exaggerated annoyance. he pulls you to his side, keeping his hand on top of your head as if to hold you in place, and you can feel the warmth of his touch radiating through your hair.

“ijichi’s waiting,” he adds, his jaw cocks in the direction of the vehicle, and his expression is a blend of impatience and mild exasperation— the car parked a little way down the drive. “you want him to die of old age out there? you two can’t take all day saying goodbye.”

you pout, glancing back at gojo, but geto’s hand keeps you steady, grounding you by his side as he rolls his eyes. he doesn’t let go, his fingers giving a small, almost affectionate pat atop your head. “he’ll be fine,” he assures you, his voice softening ever so slightly, almost as if he’s trying to reassure himself as well.

as the car idles in the driveway, a mischievous glint in your eye despite the lingering sadness. “at least give me a kiss before you go,” you say, tilting your head up at the white-haired man, lips curving into a small pout. your tone is both a plea and a playful demand, as if challenging him to say no.

gojo looks at you with an expression that can only be described as smitten, and he steps closer to you, a fond smirk on his lips. “since you’re being soooo demanding,” he teases, his voice low and honey-sweet. he leans down, one hand coming up to cup your face, and he gently presses his lips against yours, his kiss both gentle and dawdling, as if he’s trying to capture the sweetness of your goodbye.

his other hand finds its way to your waist, gently pulling you closer, and for a brief second, it feels like time has stopped. his touch is soft and gentle but a silent reassurance, filled with a promise to come back to you. “happy now?” he whispers against your lips as he pulls away, his thumb brushing across your cheek. there’s a twinkle in his eye, as if he’s savoring the look on your face.

before you can respond, geto lets out an exaggerated groan from behind. “ugh, enough with the romance already,” he grumbles, though there’s a hint of amusement in his tone as he rolls his eyes. “we get it—you’re both madly in love.”

with a final glance at you, gojo laughs, shooting geto a smirk. “take care of her for me, alright?” he says, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “yeah, yeah,” geto sighs, grabbing you by the shoulders and gently steering you away from gojo. “now, get out of here before i have to witness another heartwarming moment.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes, even as geto holds you firmly by his side. “don’t act like you’re not gonna miss him too,” you tease, glancing up at him. geto scoffs, but there’s a soft smile playing at his lips. “just get inside,” he mutters, guiding you back into the house once gojo is gone, but his hold on you is gentle, as if he’s quietly reassuring you that he’s here, ready to keep you company until gojo returns.

as you make your way back into the house, geto keeps his hands on your shoulders, steering you away from the door and into the living room. a part of you wants to turn back, to catch one last glimpse of gojo before he leaves, but you resist the urge, knowing it would only make the parting more difficult.

he guides you to the sofa, gently pushing you down to sit, before taking a seat beside you. geto is characteristically quiet, his expression a mix of annoyance and... something else you can comfortably decipher— jealousy. the air in the room is heavy with an unspoken tension. geto is silently gazing into space, his thoughts seemingly far away. you glance at him, your gaze lingering on his profile.

the sunlight streaming through the windows casts a warm glow on his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the slight furrow of his brow. he’s always been handsome, you’ve known that from the day you met him, but in this light, he’s almost unfairly beautiful. after a brief pause, he finally speaks, his voice low and strangely serious. “you’re too clingy, y’know,” he mutters, not looking at you.

you pout, sink into the couch, letting out a sigh. “i just miss him,” you murmur, your voice a bit quieter, softer. “he’s been going on missions non-stop lately. it’s like the moment he’s back, they send him off again.”

your gaze drops to your hands resting in your lap, fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your sleeve as you try to make sense of the mix of emotions welling up inside. the frustration, the loneliness, the worry—each time he leaves, it feels like a piece of you goes with him. you want him safe and sound here, not off somewhere you can’t reach him.

geto sighs, his annoyance melting into a softer, more understanding expression. he glances at you for a moment, his eyes scanning your face, and he can almost feel your worry and frustration mirrored in his own heart.

“i know,” he murmurs, his voice unexpectedly gentle. “it sucks, huh? they treat him like he’s invincible, sending him on one mission after another. it’s like the higher-ups forget that he has someone waiting for him at home.”

the words hang in the air, lingering with an unwelcome sense of truth. you can hear the undercurrent of frustration and worry in geto’s voice, something he rarely allows himself to show. he looks at you, his gaze, drowning in nothing bot love for you. “he’ll come back,” he says firmly, as if trying to convince himself as much as you. “he’s gojo. you know he can take care of himself.”

the warmth of geto’s voice, with its steady reassurance, settles into your heart. but then he whispers, “come here,” his tone softer than before, and before you can process it, he pulls you into his arms, his embrace gentle but firm. he shifts, bringing you both down to lie on the couch, his arms circling you securely, as if protecting you from your own worry.

you let out a sigh, the tension slowly melting away as you rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. it’s calming, grounding, and in this quiet moment, it feels like everything might actually be okay. you wrap your arm around his waist, clinging to him as if he’s the anchor keeping you steady— like how he is.

the silence is filled only by the sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear, strong and reassuring. he gently strokes your hair, his hand moving in slow, soothing motions, and you find yourself relaxing more with each breath. it’s not rare for him to show this side of himself, the part that isn’t just strength or sharp words, but softness and quiet care when it comes to you.

“he’ll come back, love,” geto murmurs again, his voice almost a whisper, a shape of promising for you and himself at the same time. “and until then… i’m here. so don’t worry so much.”

a faint smile tugs at your lips, and you nuzzle into his chest, letting his warmth surround you. “thank you, sugu’,” you say softly, your words muffled against him but carrying all the gratitude you feel. he doesn’t respond right away, but his arm tightens around you slightly, as if that’s answer enough.

geto holds you close, his fingers continuing to run through your hair, the motion soothing for both of you. he can feel your body relax in his arms, the tension slowly dissipating as you melt into him.

he takes a deep breath, still trying to control the swirl of emotions inside him. the words he wants to say linger on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows them back, keeping them locked away for now. “try to get back to sleep, love, it still morning,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “i’m not going anywhere.”

you don’t say a word, letting the warmth of his quiet presence surround you. instead, you shift slightly, reaching for his hand, your fingers finding his. without a second thought, you intertwine them, feeling the familiar strength and roughness of his hand against yours. it’s a simple gesture, but it carries all the things you’re too tired to put into words — the trust, the comfort, the gratitude.

geto’s fingers close around yours, and for a brief moment, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, as if to tell you he understands. his thumb brushes over your knuckles, a soft, grounding touch, and you feel a small part of the heaviness lift from your heart. you close your eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his embrace calm the lingering worry.

he leans his head down, pressing a feather-light kiss to the top of your head, lips remain there as if to say, i’m here. “you are such a baby,” he teased, despite the jealousy burning inside his heart. geto tries to keep his voice light, the tease gently masking the more complicated feelings swirling beneath the surface. he feels the weight of your body against his, the way you cling to him, seeking comfort and reassurance. and as much as he tries to hide it, he revels in it, the feeling of having you close, needing him.

but there’s also a pang of jealousy gnawing at him still, a bitter taste in his mouth he tries to swallow back. he doesn’t want to think about gojo, about how he’s getting more of your affection than usual.

“always so needy,” he murmurs, his tone a mixture of fondness and annoyance, “and so clingy. can’t even handle a week alone.” he let out a soft huff at your clinginess, his eyes studying your face, the expression on your face so open, so at peace, that he can’t help feeling just the smallest twinge of possessiveness.

you’re his right now.

you tilt your head up to look at him, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “oh, please, babe,” you whisper, the playful lilt in your voice matching his tease, “if it were you going on missions all the time, i’d be just as clingy. maybe even worse.” your words are light, but there’s a flicker of honesty in your gaze, and geto can see it, feel it in the way you hold him a little tighter.

for a moment, he doesn’t respond. his eyes search yours, and the soft teasing mask he usually wears slips, just a little. the warmth in his expression, mixed with something deeper, tells you he understands, even if he’d never admit to feeling the same. he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering there.

“oh, so you’re saying you’d actually miss me?” he murmurs, a hint of challenge in his tone, but there’s a gentleness there, too— an unspoken desire for that closeness, for you to need him the way you need gojo.

you roll your eyes, pretending to scoff as you press closer against him. “obviously,” you reply, your voice dropping to a whisper, “maybe i’d even be... clingy.” the word is playful, but it carries a certain weight, a confession you both understand without having to say it.

geto’s eyes darkened slightly as he feels your body pressing closer to his, your words sending a shiver down his spine. he can’t help the way his heart clenches, the pang of jealousy mixed with a desperate need for you to want him instead, to cling to him instead.

he lets out a scoff, his voice low and filled with a mixture of annoyance and desire. “clingy?” he repeats, “you are clingy. all the time. you just can’t seem to keep your hands off me.” he moves his hand, untangling it from yours to gently grab your chin, desperate for you to look up at him, for those eye-contact. his eyes are a hue of violet, almost intense, as they meet yours, a small smirk on his lips. “always all over me, like a little leech,” he continues, his words a mixture of teasing and honesty.

he studies your face, a mixture of irritation and affection in his dark eyes. “you’re always glued to me, sticking like a damn limpet. seems like you can’t even handle a few moments apart without clinging to someone.”

his tone is as sharp as ever, but there’s an edge of protectiveness that betrays his concern, his possessiveness, and geto, is for sure diving for validation from you. he keeps his hold on your chin, not willing to let you look away, not right now. “it’s annoying,” he mutters, the words not carrying the irritation they should, giving your chin a little squeeze.

you don’t bother with a reply, letting your actions speak louder than words. shifting even closer, you nuzzle against his chest, letting your nose brush against the soft fabric of his shirt. a quiet hum escapes you as you tangle your legs with his, wrapping yourself around him like he’s the only thing anchoring you. if he wanted to tease you for being clingy, you’d prove just how right he was.

your response, the way you cling to him with every fiber of your being, it’s both satisfying and frustrating. a deep, possessive part of him relishes in the way you’ve wrapped yourself around him; it’s exactly what he wants. but another part of him, the part that’s still struggling with jealousy, it’s a stark reminder of how he isn’t your first choice. gojo gets all your sweet words and loving gazes, while he’s left with the scraps of your affection.

a frustrated sigh escapes his lips.

geto’s hand is still on your chin, but his grip loosens slightly, as though taken off guard by how naturally you mold yourself to him. his gaze softens, the teasing sharpness in his eyes dimming just a bit as he takes in the sight of you — nestled against him, as if you truly can’t bear even the smallest distance between you. his fingers trace along your jaw, down to your shoulder, finally settling at the small of your back, holding you just as close.

a soft sigh slips from him, his hand firm and warm on your back, as if he’s accepted his role as your personal anchor, whether he likes it or not. he doesn’t say anything, but you can feel the subtle shift in his posture, the way he settles into the embrace, his other hand resting against your tangled legs, as though to keep you even closer— as if it’s even possible.

in the quiet of the moment, with your legs intertwined and your face nestled against him, you feel his heart beating steadily beneath your cheek. there’s no need for words; the tension fades, replaced by a silent understanding that neither of you wants to break this closeness. his hand resumes its gentle, absent-minded strokes along your back, a gesture both protective and tender.

“so much for needing space,” he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper, but there’s a hint of warmth behind it— a warmth that feels almost like an unspoken confession.

he continues to hold you, his grip tightening almost imperceptibly, as if he’s holding onto you tighter than before, desperate to became one. he can feel the warmth of your breath on his chest, the way your body presses against him, the way you’ve wrapped yourself around him like a clinging vine.

he can’t deny the way it makes him feel— the possessive need to keep you close, the satisfaction in knowing that you’re choosing him now, in this moment. he pushes the intrusive thoughts of gojo away, focusing only on the feeling of you against him.

geto’s grip tightens as he holds you close, feeling that satisfying warmth seep into his chest as you cling to him with every bit of yourself. there’s a certain possessive satisfaction in knowing you’re nestled against him so naturally, as if it’s where you belong. it’s exactly what he wants, and for a moment, he lets himself believe it’s all his.

but it wasn’t last long, few second of faith and the familiar ache starts creeping back in, that unshakable jealousy lurking beneath the surface. the reminder that, despite this closeness, he still isn’t the one who occupies your thoughts most of the time. gojo gets your smiles, your sweet glances, and sometimes it feels like he’s just here to fill the spaces left behind.

his hand on your back stills for a second as he tries to quell the frustration bubbling up within him. he lets out a soft sigh, his gaze softening as he takes in your peaceful expression against his chest. he’s just about to release that jealousy, to accept that maybe, just maybe, this moment could belong to him.

then, you speak.

“how long is ’toru’s flight?” your voice is soft, almost hesitant but still leak with the same longing, “do you think i can call him soon?”

your words cut through him sharper than he expects, and for a moment, he can’t mask the flash of hurt that crosses his face. he pulls back just enough to look at you, searching your expression for any sign that this is some sort of joke— but there’s only genuine curiosity in your eyes. it’s as though the thought of gojo is always there, lingering on the edge of your mind, even when you’re wrapped up in his arms.

“thinking about him again, huh?” he murmurs, a bitter edge sneaking into his voice. his hand loosens slightly on your back, his thumb tracing a faint, absent-minded pattern along your shoulder as he tries to keep himself composed when he nearly going spiral from the unbound jealousy. it’s a small gesture, but it betrays the tension he’s trying so hard to hide. “can’t go a moment without wondering about him?”

the words are quiet, almost more to himself than to you, as if he’s not sure he even wants an answer. he knows it’s unfair, knows he’s being unreasonable— but he can’t deny the sting, the way your question pulls him back to that reality where he’s still second in your heart even though it was all his insecurity.

he takes a steadying breath, closing his eyes for a moment before he speaks again, his tone softer this time, though there’s a faint trace of melancholy lingering beneath it. “gojo’s flight… should be landing in two hour or so,” he answers, finally looking down at you with a resigned smile, the kind that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “you’ll be able to talk to him soon enough.”

but even as he says it, his arms still slide back around you, holding you close with a renewed sense of determination. because if this is all he can have, if these fleeting moments are all that belong to him, then he’ll take them. his hand resumes its gentle strokes along your back, his touch firm and always tender, grounding himself in this closeness that he knows he’ll have to let go of eventually.

geto shifts on the couch, his movements slow and deliberate as he gently lays you down against the cushions. he hovers over you, one hand braced beside you, the other coming to rest softly against your cheek. his gaze is intense, filled with something raw and unspoken, and for a moment, he just looks at you, his thumb brushing tenderly over your skin.

“stop thinking about him,” he murmurs, his voice a low whisper, almost a plea. “i’m here. not satoru. right here, with you.”

the words are quiet, but there’s a weight to them, a vulnerability that he rarely lets show unless it’s needed— which is, often. his fingers trace along your jaw, grounding you in the moment, anchoring you to him alone. his eyes search yours, looking for any hint that you understand— that maybe, just this once, you’ll let go of gojo’s hold on your thoughts and give yourself completely to him.

“i need you to see me, too,” he continues, his tone softening, almost breaking. “just me.”

his hand slips to the small of your back for hundred times, pulling you closer, his face inches from yours as he holds your gaze. there’s something possessive in the way he looks at you, a quiet desperation mingling with the need in his eyes. he leans in, his lips ghosting over yours, barely touching as if he’s giving you the chance to close the distance— to show him that you want this, that you want him.

but instead, you hum softly, your fingers finding their way to his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw as you meet his gaze with a knowing smile. there’s a glimmer of playfulness in your eyes, and you can feel his breath hitch as you lean just a little closer.

“you’re always so jealous of satoru,” you tease, voice laced with gentle amusement, a slight tilt to your smile that says you know exactly what kind of effect you have on him.

a flicker of irritation flashes in his eyes, but it’s tempered by the warmth lingering there, an exasperation softened by how much he cares. his hand tightens on your waist, a gentle but firm reminder of his presence. he’s almost pouting now, his brow furrowing slightly as if trying to find the words to deny it— but he doesn’t.

“you know,” he murmurs, voice low and almost a little sulky, “you make it really hard not to be.” his thumb brushes over your hip, his other hand cupping the side of your face, his touch, like a glue, stick around like he’s savoring every moment. “i just... i just want you to look at me that way too.”

there’s a softness now, a vulnerability barely hidden beneath the usual confidence. his fingers trail along your jaw, and his eyes search yours, almost pleading, even as his lips curl into a slight smirk. “but if you keep teasing me like that,” he whispers, leaning in until his lips are a breath away from yours, “i might just have to make sure you only think about me.”

“oh? promise, promise,” you teased.

geto lets out a scoff at your teasing tone, the sound caught between mockery and affection. he leans closer, his eyes darkening slightly as he meets your taunting expression, the hint of playfulness in your gaze only fuelling the possessive fire inside him.

“oh, you want me to promise?” he murmurs, his voice low and edged with a quiet challenge. “you want me to prove it?” his hand slides down to your waist, his grip firm as he pulls you closer, closing the distance between you. his lips graze yours, a tantalisingly whisper of a touch.

“you really think i won’t?” he murmurs against your lips, his hot breath sending a jolt of shudder in your being. “that i can’t make you forget about that idiot satoru?”

he gently pushes you deepened, back against the couch, leaning over you with a possessiveness that’s verging on territorial. his hand slides up your side, coming to rest just beneath your chin, tilting your face up towards him. his eyes burn with a quiet intensity, a mixture of irritation and desire.

“i can make you forget your own name, if i wanted,” he whispers, his thumb gently tracing your bottom lip, gently tracing the contour, his gaze locked on yours as if he’s memorizing every detail. his voice is low and rough, and there’s a possessive edge to it that makes your heart skip a beat.

“i could make you obsessed with me, if i tried hard enough,” he continues, his lips hovering a breath away from yours, like he is playing game who’s going to kiss first before move down to your neck, his body pressing against you in a way that feels almost predatory. “just you and me, all alone, no one else. i’m not like satoru, y’know,” he murmurs, “and i don’t want to be.” he leans in deeper, lips just barely grazing the skin of your neck. “i don’t want to share you, i don’t want to have to compete with him for your attention. i want you to be mine, and mine alone.”

he leans down deeper, his lips tracing a path along the length of your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses as he slowly descends. he finds that spot right behind your ear, the one that makes you shiver, and he lingers there for a moment, his tongue gently teasing the sensitive skin.

he nibbles softly, just enough to drive you wild before pulling back, a smug smirk on his lips as he returns his attention to your face. “you’ll have no choice but to think of me.”

a breathless sigh escapes you, fingers curling around his shoulder as he holds you beneath him, his lips still searing a path down your neck. every soft kiss, every teasing graze of his teeth against your skin, it all makes your chest feel tight, your heart pounding with the intensity of his touch.

“a little too late for that, don’t you think?” you whisper, voice barely above a murmur, eyes simmering with a playful, daring gleam. your words carry a note of surrender, as if admitting that he’s already woven himself too deeply into your thoughts, filling every corner of your mind in a way that’s both thrilling and terrifying. he is already woven into something complicated, tangled up with you and gojo for years, making it impossible for him to truly claim you as his alone now.

a sharp pang of possessiveness jolts through geto as you whisper those words. he pauses in his trail of kisses, his breath warm against your skin as he pulls back just enough to look at you. his eyes are dark, almost possessive as he holds your gaze, a flicker of irritation and arousal swirling in his expression.

“too late, huh?” he murmurs back, his voice edged with a soft growl. “i don’t like that answer. doesn’t sound like you’re all mine, yet.” he leans in again, his lips meeting yours in a fierce kiss that’s all possession. he kisses you like he’s trying to prove something, teeth nipping at your bottom lip as his hands slide down to your hips, holding you still against the couch.

when he finally pulls back, his breath is coming in ragged gasps, his gaze still intense as he looks down at you. “i’ll make you mine,” he whispers against your mouth, his voice firm, almost a promise. “i’ll make you forget everything else. satoru, anyone else. just me.”

in split second, geto have you gasp as you’re suddenly straddling his lap, his lips capturing yours in a possessive kiss, his teeth tugging at your bottom lip for the second time. the intensity of his hold makes your breath hitch, but you quickly regain your composure. as he pulls back, you push his face away with a teasing smirk, eyes gleaming mischievously.

“again with your sadistic strike,” you murmur, voice light and playful despite the heat between you both. you tilt your head, amused by how easily he falls into this possessive role, your fingers lightly tracing along his jaw as you continue to tease him. “you’re really not giving up, are you?”

geto lets out a scoff as you push him away, a mix of irritation and desire flashing in his eyes as he looks up at you, straddling his lap. he can feel the heat between you, the way your body responds to his touch, and it only fuels the possessive fire within him.

“not giving up?” he repeats, his voice edged with a rough edge. “you’re damn right i’m not. you think i’m gonna just let you keep thinking about him when i’m right here?” he grips your hips a little harder, pulling you closer and grinding against you in a way that makes your breath hitch. he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he continues, his voice low and dangerous.

“i’ll do whatever it takes to make you forget about him. you’ll be screaming my name before the night is through, i promise you that.”

second thought is far away in the back of his head, and geto pulled his cock out from the sweatpants he wore— already hard and throbbing— pre-cum leaking from the swollen tip, red and angry, like how he is. his other neat-handed hand is lifting the only oversized t-shirt you’ve had wearing and your little lace panties filling his violet hue pupils. his index finger poking the fabric aside, and, in one push, his cock was already deep inside you.

a deep, rumble groans tears from his chest, having the raven-haired man throws his head back against the cushion while you gasp from the sudden feeling of fullness inside your cunt— both feeling like a cloud nine just drape its hands on you both, making cocoon of pleasure. your nails dig into his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt.

geto’s hands grip your hips ever tightly, holding you still as he savors the feeling of being buried deep inside you. he can feel your walls clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you adjust to his size— every single fucking time. a low groan rumbles in his chest, his breathing heavy with barely restrained lust and flame of jealousy.

he tilts his head, looking up at you with those intense purple eyes, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. “that’s it, take every inch of me,” he purrs, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “this is where you belong, wrapped around my cock like you were made for it.” one hand slides up your side, under the oversized shirt, caressing the smooth skin of your stomach and ribcage. his other hand remains firmly gripping your hip, keeping you impaled on his thick length.

you moan softly, your body relaxing the way geto’s hand glides over your skin, sending shivers down your spine like twinkling stars dancing around your skin. the sensation of being so deeply filled, stretched to your limits, is almost overwhelming. you bite your lip, trying to stifle the sounds of pleasure that threaten to spill free.

you look down at geto, seeing the raw hunger in his gaze, and it sends a shiver down your spine. his words, laced with possessiveness and dominance, make your cunt throb around him. your hands slide up to tangle in his hair, tugging gently as you lean down to capture his lips in a searing kiss. tongue tied, a heady mix of arousal and something uniquely geto. breaking the kiss, you nip at his bottom lip before whispering hotly in his ear, “don’t move yet, baby. let me feel you for a moment.”

a guttural growl escapes geto’s throat at your whispered command, his hips twitching involuntarily as he struggles to obey. unlike gojo, geto is a man of patience and a single words coming from you, he will bent down and fighting his will to do as you say— even when his cock buried deep inside your perfect, beautiful cunt he is nearly explode. he wants nothing more than to start thrusting into you, to claim you with every fiber of his being. but the need to please you, to surrender control to your whim, overrides his own desires.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his forehead pressing against yours as he tries to calm his racing heart. “you’re killing me, you know that?”

his hand tightens on your hip while the other grasps a fistful of your breast, the only part of him not trembling with restraint. he can feel the pulse of your heartbeat, the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, and it’s intoxicating, really. being still, being patient, feels foreign to him—but for you, he’d endure anything.

after what feels like an eternity, he manages a strained nod.

a sight of his struggle nod bring a satisfied smile curves your lips as you watch geto struggle to maintain his self-control, even if it’s clearly costing him. you press a gentle kiss to his temple, savoring the warmth of his skin beneath your lips. the tension in his body palpable. you can practically feel the heat radiating off him, the primal urge to claim you, to dominate and possess. it’s intoxicating, addicting knowing you have such power over him.

“good boy,” you praise softly, your voice dripping with affection. you lean in, nuzzling your nose against his, inhaling the scent of his skin, musky and masculine. “i love watching you try to rein it in,” you murmur, your voice husky with desire, “it’s so sexy, seeing you fight for control.”

geto’s chest rises and falls rapidly as he fights to maintain his composure, his body thrumming with pent-up energy. the praise from your lips sends a jolt straight to his cock, making it twitch within you. he grits his teeth, trying to focus on the sensations you’re evoking rather than giving in to the overwhelming impulse to move.

your hand trails down his chest, over the ridges of his abs, until you reach the hem of his shirt, tugging the material upward, a silent command to banish the material, exposing his toned torso to your appreciative gaze, and geto lets out a low hiss. his abs flex beneath your fingertips, the defined muscles a testament to his strength and dedication. he knows every dip and curve of your body, has worshipped them with his mouth and hands, and the knowledge fills him with pride.

“you’ve got no idea,” he rasps, his voice strained with effort, “how much i want to fuck you senseless right now.”

a pleased hum vibrates in your throat at geto’s admission, your fingers dancing across his exposed skin, tracing the lines of his muscles. you lean in, placing open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone, tasting the salt of his sweat. the confession ignites a fire within you, your inner walls clenching around his thickness. “what’s with the rush?” you murmur, your voice a sultry purr, “we have all week for ourselves, no need to take things too fast.”

your fingers trace the lines of his chiseled abdomen, marveling at the sheer power coiled beneath his skin. you can feel the heat emanating from him, the raw energy simmering just below the surface. it’s exhilarating, knowing you have the power to unravel him completely. “let’s just enjoy this together,” you continue, hands roam lower, squeezing his muscular thighs as you grind against him, your clit kissing his pelvis. you nip at his neck, leaving a trail of love bites as you mark him as yours, tearing a low, animalistic groan rumbles in his chest, follow you. the air is thick with tension, the promise of unbridled passion hanging precariously balanced.

the possessive act sends a surge of heat straight to his groin, his balls drawing up tight. he can feel the coil of tension building within him, the warning signs of an impending release.

with that, you begin to slowly rock your hips, rolling them in a slow, sensual rhythm. each movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, your inner walls fluttering around geto’s thick length. you keep your pace deliberate and controlled, not wanting to overwhelm him, but instead coaxing him deeper into the blissful haze of lust and possession.

geto’s entire body shudders at the first deliberate roll of your hips, his cock throbbing in response. the sensation of your slick heat enveloping him, combined with the erotic dance of your grinding, is nearly unbearable. he clenches his jaw, fighting the urge to buck wildly into you, to lose himself in the primal need to claim you utterly. “fuuuck, baby,” he gasps, his voice strained, “you’re going to be the death of me.”

----

your hips continue their languid undulations, each movement designed to tease and tantalize, to draw out the exquisite pleasure for both of you. you can feel geto’s resolve crumbling, his body tensing, straining for release. the thought sends a thrill through you, knowing you hold such power over him.

you lean back slightly, changing the angle of your connection, allowing geto's thick length to brush against your sensitive spots with each roll of your hips. a soft moan escapes your lips as the new position sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you. your fingers dig into the firm shoulder, urging him to meet your movements, to sink deeper into your welcoming heat. “fuuuck,” you whimper, your voice a husky whisper, “hold me, baby.”

geto’s arms wrap around you instinctively, pulling you flush against his heaving chest. he cradles you close, his large hands splayed across your back, fingers digging into the supple flesh. the intimate contact only fuels the growing urgency between you, his hardness pressing insistently against your softer curves.

geto meets each roll with a slow, deliberate thrust of his own, driving into you with measured strokes. his breath hitches in his throat, a low growl building in his chest as he loses himself in the rhythmic dance of pleasure.

“god, you feel incredible,” he pants against your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “so fucking perfect, so fucking beautiful.” his words are a heated promise, a vow to cherish and worship every inch of your body as he makes love to you.

a contented sigh escapes your lips as geto’s strong arms enfold you, holding you securely against his solid form. the feeling of being cherished, adored, and desired washes over you, filling you with a profound sense of belonging. you melt into his embrace, your body molding to his as if you were made to fit together perfectly.

geto’s deep, rumbling words send tingles down your spine, his praise and devotion igniting a fierce passion within you. you tilt your head back, offering your mouth to his, and he claims it in a searing kiss— it was intimate, warm and gentle. the taste of him, the feel of his tongue exploring your depths, sets your very soul ablaze.

breaking the kiss, you gaze up at him, your eyes shimmering with adoration and lust. “i love you, suguru,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, forehead bound against his.

geto’s eyes darken with emotion as he looks down at you, his face etched with tender adoration. a soft, choked sound escapes him, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, as he pulls you impossibly closer.

“i love you too, my beautiful girl,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sentiment. geto’s heart swells, his love for you burning brighter than ever before. he captures your lips once more, pouring all his devotion and longing into the passionate kiss. the kiss tender and loving, a sweet expression of the depth of his feelings for you. his tongue delves deeply, savoring the sweetness of your mouth as he loses himself in the tender intimacy of the moment.

as you break apart, geto gazes down at you with an expression of pure adoration, his purple eyes shimmering undeniable love and happiness. slowly, deliberately, geto begins to move within you again, his thrusts slower now, more measured, as if savoring every moment of your intimate connection. he rocks into you with a soothing rhythm, the subtle undulation of his hips sending waves of pleasure rippling through your core.

“we’re home, aren’t we?” he whispers against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. his hands slide down to cup your ass, kneading the supple flesh as he deepens the embrace.

tears prick at the corners of your eyes as geto professes his love, the sincerity and depth of his emotions overwhelming you. you cling to him, your fingers threading through his hair as you press your lips to his, relishing in the tender affection he pours into the kiss.

when you finally part, you rest your forehead against his, basking in the warmth of his presence, the comforting beat of his heart against your own. “yes, we’re home, we are always home,” you agree softly, a contented smile playing on your lips. “right here, with you.”

geto’s renewed lovemaking is a symphony of slow, sensual movements, each deliberate stroke stoking the flames of your desire. his heartbeat syncs with yours, a powerful drumbeat that resonates deep within your soul. he gazes at you with unabashed adoration, his purple eyes drinking in every detail of your radiant beauty— from the sparkling tears clinging to your lashes to the blissful curve of your lips. in this moment, he knows he would move heaven and earth to keep you safe, to make you happy.

you arch into him, meeting his thrusts with eager rolls of your hips, the friction sending sparks of pleasure dancing along your nerve endings, having geto’s breath catches in his throat. the way you welcome him, the eagerness with which you meet his thrusts, ignites a wildfire of passion within him. his grip on your hips tightens, fingers digging into your skin as he loses himself in the erotic dance of your bodies.

“fucking perfection,” he groans, his voice raw with desire. his grip on your ass tightens as you meet his movements with equal fervor, his control wavering under the onslaught of your passion. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by your mutual gasps and moans of pleasure.

he breaks the intimate seal of your foreheads, instead burying his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply as he nips and kisses a trail down to your collarbone. geto’s hot breath fans over your sensitive skin, sending shivers coursing through you.

“mine,” he growls, the word a possessive declaration as he marks you with small, open-mouthed kisses. “all mine, forever and always.” geto’s hands roam your body, mapping the curves he knows so well, his touch reverent and hungry all at once.

your body trembles beneath geto's intense ministrations, every nip and kiss sending electric jolts straight to your core. the possessive growl vibrating against your skin, coupled with his fervent declarations, only serves to heighten your arousal. you feel owned, treasured, and utterly consumed by this man who holds your heart in the palm of his hand.

reaching up, you tangle your fingers in geto’s silky locks, guiding his head back to capture your lips in a searing kiss— his lips, oh, you could never have enough of his lips on yours. the clash of tongues, the battle for dominance, is a thrilling prelude to the explosive climax you both crave. breaking away, you pant heavily, your chest heaving against his. “i’m close,” you mumble, your voice husky with need.

geto’s eyes blaze with unbridled hunger as he watches you writhe on top of him, your desperate pleas music to his ears. he can feel your walls fluttering around him, tightening with each thrust, signaling your impending release. with a feral snarl, he redoubles his efforts, pounding into you with relentless ferocity.

his hands find purchase on your thighs, spreading them wider to accommodate his punishing pace. the lewd slap of flesh echoes through the room, a primal soundtrack to your frenzied coupling. geto’s breathing grows ragged, his vision tunneling until all he sees is you— your flushed cheeks, your pleading eyes, the exquisite contours of your body as it yields to his possession.

“you’re mine,” he rasps, his voice a guttural animalistic growl. “never forget it.” overwhelmed by the intensity of geto’s lovemaking, you can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words. your mind goes blank, replaced by a haze of white-hot pleasure that consumes every fiber of your being. each brutal thrust sends shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your veins, threatening to shatter you into a million pieces.

geto’s dominant claim, spoken with such raw, primal authority, snaps the last threads of your self-control. a scream rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your inner muscles clamping down on geto’s pulsing length in rhythmic spasms. stars burst and your head spinning, and you’re certain the room spins, but all you can focus on is the overwhelming sensation of release.

as the aftershocks ebb, you collapse against geto, your body limp and spent. your legs trembling on his lap. “fuuuck, i’m cumming,” and geto follows shortly after, letting out a guttural roar as your velvet walls milk him dry. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath puffing against your sweat-dampened skin as he fights to regain his composure.

panting heavily, geto refuse to extricates himself from your cunt, so instead he collapses onto his back on the couch pulling you into his arms. his touch gentle and tender, having you nestle into the comfort of his embrace, your body still humming with the afterglow of your shared passion. he nuzzles into your hair, savoring the intoxicating mix of your scent and the lingering traces of their shared passion.

“i love you so much,” he murmurs, his voice rough with satisfaction. the sound of his voice, hoarse and satisfied, rings like a soothing melody in your ears as he whispers those three words. geto peppers feather-light kisses across your forehead, your closed eyelids, the tip of your nose, each one a silent vow of eternal devotion.

gently, he strokes your hair, his fingers tangling in the silken strands as he holds you close. you bask in the soothing sensation of his fingers raking through your hair, each stroke a soft, intimate caress that ignites a wave of warmth and contentment within you. your chest heaves against his, breaths coming in short, laboured gasps as you both try to recover from the raw intensity of their passion.

you can feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your hands, the way his body trembles slightly from the residue. “i love you, too,” you murmur back, your voice soft and reverent, barely above a whisper.

still joined together, geto’s arms wrap firmly around your waist, pulling you close as he shifts, finding more comfortable position against the couch and settling you on top of him. his embrace is steady, his touch lingering, as if he never wants to let go. you rest against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you, its warmth radiating through every inch of you.

he runs his hands slowly up and down your back, still covered with your shirt, tracing gentle, soothing patterns as he holds you close. the room is silent, save for the soft sounds of breath and the steady rhythm of geto’s heart beating beneath you. his fingers continue their tender journey across your back, tracing invisible patterns and sending warm shivers down your spine.

he presses a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head, his arms holding you closer, a silent declaration of his unwavering love. you snuggle into his chest, your body perfectly molding into him as you bask in the comfort of his embrace.

geto’s hand pauses for a moment on your back, and a playful smirk tugs at his lips. he tilts his head down to look at you, his eyes gleaming with that familiar, mischievous spark. “think you’ve finally forgotten about satoru now?” he murmurs, his voice a soft tease as he leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. his fingers resume their gentle path, tracing soothing patterns along your spine, as if grounding you in this moment with him.

before you can respond, he presses another kiss to your forehead, holding you even tighter. “good,” he whispers against your skin, “because i plan on making sure you don’t have a single thought left for anyone but me.”

you roll your eyes, a smirk tugging at your lips as you lift your head to meet his gaze. “not yet,” you tease, voice laced with a playful challenge, sitting up abruptly before taking your shirt off— your breast on full display to your boyfriend’s eyes. a soft thud could be heard once the material landed somewhere.

geto lets out a low, appreciative whistle as you take off your shirt, his gaze darkening impossibly as he takes in the sight of your bare skin. he can’t help the way his eyes roam over your curves, a mixture of hunger and raw desire flashing across his face.

his hands slide to your hips, his touch firm and possessive as he pulls you closer, forcing you to straddle his waist. he leans back against the couch— prop his elbows, his expression intense, his eyes burning with a mixture of desire and determination.

his lips part, breathing a wee bit heavy as he looks up at you through hooded eyes, “not yet, huh?” he echoed back to you, voice a little rougher than before, his gaze heated and intensely focused on your perky nipples, “oh, you’re not making this easy on me, you know, baby?” he growls, his voice a low, husky promise. the sound low and deep in his throat, as if he’s struggling to control himself.

a mischievous glint sparks in your eyes as you hum softly, trailing your hands down his bare chest, fingers tracing over the lines of his muscles with teasing slowness. “i thought you were going to make sure i forgot about ‘toru,” you murmur, voice laced with playful defiance. you tilt your head, meeting his darkened gaze with a smirk.

“because, honestly, right now…” you pause, leaning in closer, your lips a mere breath away from his. “my mind’s still pretty full of my beloved ‘toru, and he’s all i can think about,” you tease, each word a deliberate challenge.

geto’s grip on your hips tightens, his eyes narrowing as he lets out a low, rumbling chuckle, the sound full of dark amusement. “is that so?” he mutters, his voice now a dangerously low whisper. “guess i’m not trying hard enough, then.” his hands slide up, fingers grazing your skin in a way that sends shivers down your spine, as his gaze turns sharp and possessive.

without warning, he pulls you even closer, his lips brushing over yours in a tantalizing, barely-there kiss. “let’s see if i can change that, hm?” he challenges, his eyes locked on yours with unwavering intensity, daring you to hold on to the thought of anyone else but him.

lifting you effortlessly off the couch and carrying you to the nearby window seat. they way he hold you, you can feel the possessive strength in his grip. the cool glass presses against your front as geto settles you onto the hard surface, his hard length still nestled inside you. the change in position allows him to delve even deeper, his pelvis grinding against yours as he starts to move once more.

geto buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as he nips and licks at the delicate skin. “one way or another, you will forget satoru even exists for a whole fucking week, i’ll make sure of that,” he grumbles on your skin, hips one after another start to thrust into your cunt. big hand grip a fistful of your hair, face push to the hard surface while his other hand kissing your ass, harder each kiss. no gentleness, no tenderness like earlier, only a maddening, desperate thrust to drive his point dick to your brain.

and when geto says something, he means it.

[lymtw]

Lazy Days

Lazy days with Toji where you're sitting between his legs, just basking in his presence. You're laid back against his chest, scrolling through your socials, while he attempts to focus on whatever is playing on the TV screen. His arms are wrapped around your waist, securely, and his chin rests on your shoulder as he watches the movie you put on.

It's practically background noise for you because you're not paying attention, but when you're the one not focused, Toji takes the hit for it too because you constantly interrupt him by showing him videos of food with the promise of making it for him someday. You're also feeding him your broken humor in the form of memes, and though he doesn't find the actual images you show him funny, he cracks up at the way you laugh so hard that you squirm uncontrollably against him in your fit of laughter. He rolls his eyes with a sly smirk on his face at your giggles in the aftermath of your laughter, but still, he can't help but wonder how he got you.

You settle against him again, allowing him to keep watching the movie in peace, only now he sees no point in it. He's lost on the plot, and it's not as interesting without you going 'You like tomatoes, right? Or... at least tomato sauce, right?' or something food related every three minutes. His hands are moving now, his arms still around your lower stomach. You pay no mind to it because he's probably doing it mindlessly.

You're no stranger to him placing his hands on you while completing other tasks. You see his nonchalant front as he makes his way towards you but as soon as he rounds the corner, you can feel the wolfish grin radiating as he comes up behind you. He's there for a mug, but he'll do extra to show you that he's there behind you. He'll grab your hips and pull you back until your ass is against his crotch. Sometimes you resist the pull to mess with him, but he always manages to pull your body into his, a bite to your shoulder following as "punishment" for rejecting him.

For the strangest reason, his advances shook you this time. One hand felt up your bare outter thigh, following the expanse of it until he couldn't reach anymore. Then he went to the underside of it, squeezing the flesh a couple times. Your heart was pounding, but you stayed focused on your phone, or attempted to once his other hand started teasing the knot of the bow tied above your waistband.

He slowly unraveled the knot, allowing the elastic band of your shorts to loosen and give his hand more space. You think he's watching the movie, but really, he's watching you react through his peripheral vision. His hand travels further down your shorts, his middle finger ghosting your slit through your underwear. The touch is barely there, but it has your stomach doing cartwheels. He sighs, his fingers going back up to the lace trimming of your underwear. The sound just barely reached your ears, but it had a lasting effect as he continued to let his hands roam your lower body. He puts his fingers through the left leg hole of your underwear, the digits snapping the elastic against your hip.

You found another video to show him, but you saved it instead to show him later. You don't know exactly what is running through his mind, but it's completely welcome if it involves him continuing to touch you this way.

His fingers drag back down to your slit, this time applying more pressure. You twitch against him, earning that sly grin that appears when he knows he's working you up. You try to ground yourself and keep it together a little longer by putting your leg up, only for Toji to push it back down onto the couch.

"What's wrong, mama?" He mumbles into your shoulder. "Getting real fidgety outta nowhere."

"I'm okay," you assure, turning to give him a kind smile.

He takes it up a notch, allowing his hand to go under your sweater. He uses the privilege he has on your body so adeptly that even his hand placements are enough to force heat to run through you. The feeling of his hand grazing your skin fuels the fire that is kindled within you. He lets his blunt nails drag along the left side of your waist, slowly merging toward your midriff and upwards, before reaching the bottom of your bra. It's no restriction to him, he can just go under it.

He hums, feeling the blood rush down to his dick at the feeling of your warm breast in his hand. It only takes one brush of his finger to make your nipple quickly harden, a feeling that makes you feel like you're buzzing with electricity.

Toji is so well versed in your anatomy, it kind of embarrasses you sometimes that he doesn't have to try so hard to soften you up. He did so well at memorizing your body that he doesn't really have to look anymore to know that his touch is affecting you. That is not to be mistaken for him not wanting to watch his effects take a toll on you, because he would gladly watch you submissively fall apart for hours.

Your stomach tenses as he combines both forms of stimulation, a muffled moan coming from you as fall back on Toji's chest, your sleeve over your mouth.

He laughs at the way your eyes flutter shut, your brows pinching when he doesn't let up even after you waved your white flag. You know better than to think he'd let you walk away without making you cum on his fingers at least once.

"Why are you muting yourself, ma?" He breathes against your ear. "Don't you know it gets me hard when you whine and moan for me?"

You sigh, your phone shaking in your grip. "O-Okay, Toji. Won't do it again," you say in the most delicate tone. You turn your phone screen off and give your undivided attention to Toji and his torturous touch.

"Right. You wanna cum, don't you?"

"Mhm," you mumble, setting your hands down on his thighs.

"Oh, you can do better than that. Tell me you want to cum." His lips find the side of your neck, nudging the material of your sweater aside so that he can ghost the slope that leads to your shoulder. The urge to bite the exposed skin is almost unbearable.

Your hips roll slightly against his crotch, earning a slight groan from him. His cock is rock hard, but he's gonna get you off first since he was the one who got you all riled up in the first place. "Please make me cum, Toji. Please? Pretty please?"

Your words go straight to his dick. You've always been so well mannered—so good at begging for what you want. Being Toji's lover turned you even more politely submissive. Does this mean you deserve to cum quickly every time? Not in Toji's reality because he loves to see the feral look in your bleary eyes when he leaves you hanging.

He chuckles, quickening the movements of the hand teasing your drooling pussy. "Taught you how to beg real good, huh? Who knows what the bratty side of you would bring out of me."

"F-Fuck, fuck Toji," you inhale, exhaling shakily as his hands pause to switch positions.

"I could tame that side of you, too," he says in a taunting tone, as if daring you to rebel against him someday. "I'd get you in this exact position, even if you wanna be a stuck up little princess." His right hand snakes up your sweater, repeating the same process as before of exploring your skin before getting to your breast.

"Mm-mm, no," you whine, squirming in his hold. "'M only good for you, T-Toji."

"Yeah? I'll hold you accountable if it turns out otherwise," he murmurs into your shoulder, his voice like drizzling honey in contrast to the threat. He can feel you gushing even more, his fingers collecting more slick with every up and down of his fingers. "Fuck, you considering it now?"

"N-No I wouldn't... Toji, I wouldn't." Your hands squeeze his thighs, refraining from using your nails.

"Then why'd your cunt start drooling even more when I told you what would happen?"

"Toji..." you whine, your cheeks burning up.

He chuckles, "S'all good, ma. I got you."

"T-Toji, I- Can I cum? Please, please, Toji?"

"Already? I just started, princess. Can you hold it?" He asks, slowing his strokes.

"I don't t-think so... 'm sorry, please..."

He sighs, no trace of disappointment in the sound, rather pride for turning you into a sloppy mess in such a short span of time.

"You'll have to make it up to me. Didn't last very long, you know?" He rolls your nipple between his fingers, amused by the way your body vibrates at the overwhelming stimulation.

"Mhm... yes, Toji. Whatever you want."

He can't hold back the wicked grin that forms at your thoughtless, pleading words for mercy.

"'Kay, mama. Make it worth it."

His fingers make direct contact with your pussy for the first time since he started playing with you. His thumb focused on your clit, while his middle and index finger tease your entrance. His lips go for your neck again, planting wet kisses on the warm skin. He's so overwhelming in every aspect when he makes you cum. You're entirely suffocated by him and you love it.

You don't last another five seconds before completely falling apart on Toji, crying out his name followed by a barrage of moans. Your back arched and your legs came up to assist you in squeezing the life out of Toji's hand. Had he not braced you with the one arm he had up your sweater, you would have completely slid down his body and laid there curled up in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"Up, mama. Stay up," he instructs. His hand goes flat on your chest, pressing you against him to keep you as steady as possible as you writhe in soul crushing pleasure.

Eventually, you go limp, laying your legs flat on the couch again. Toji chuckles, sadistically, at the broken down husk that remains of you. He attempts to bring you back to life by prodding at your overstimulated cunt and you react the way he expected, pushing at his arm to stop it.

He pulls his hands out of their designated areas, wiping your cum off on his sweatpants. "Hey," he calls, poking your forehead when he notices you dozed off.

"Mm..." you hum, in response. You roll your eyes open with a lazy grin etched on your face, an expression that added pressure to the brick in Toji's pants.

"Let's go to the bed. Fucking is not gonna be comfortable here." He traces your jaw with his fingers.

"I can't walk," you mumble, exaggerating to get him to carry you.

"Oh, you poor baby," he mocks. "That won't be a lie once i'm done with you."

You use every ounce of effort to push yourself forward to try and crawl away from him, but he pulls you back by the arm and secures you in his hold again. You giggle as he wraps your legs around his waist.

"Trynna pull a fast one on me?" He chuckles. "Well, aren't you precious?" He pushes off the couch using his foot to boost his momentum, a groan leaving him as he adjusts to standing after sitting for so long.

You surrender yourself to him willingly. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, getting drunk off his scent, and watch as the light that illuminates the living room disappears out of sight when you reach the bedroom.

[elikajinnie]

hello!! may i request a drabble or a spin off from forbidden taste!heeseung with his reaction or thoughts after taking the antidote for amortentia? and also how he’s desperate to find y/n and why she’s avoiding him for days? 🤭 thank you!! i luv a desperate man 😩

a/n: you may :3 i LOVED seeing this in my inbox when i woke up! And we do all indeed love a desperate man ;)

Warnings: ehm, a desperate man basically?

The fic in question --> click here

--

Heeseung was angry—no, he was livid. The moment the effects of the Amortentia wore off, his mind cleared like a storm breaking apart, and the first thing he thought of was you. Where were you? Why weren’t you there? He had searched and searched, every corridor and corner he could think of, but you were nowhere to be found.

It didn’t help that Yoonhee had been trailing after him, clinging to his arm, tears streaming down her face as she apologized profusely. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far! It was stupid—I know it was stupid, Heeseung, I’m so sorry!”

But Heeseung knew better. He could see right through her feigned remorse. The look in her eyes told him she wasn’t sorry for what she did—she was sorry she got caught. His patience, already paper-thin, finally snapped. He shoved her off and hissed, “Stay away from me,” before marching straight to a professor and reporting her. He didn’t wait to see the consequences unfold; he couldn’t care less. There were far more important things to deal with.

Like finding you.

You, who had been conspicuously absent through it all. You, who he hadn’t seen since after the Amortentia’s haze vanished. A knot of worry had formed in his chest, twisting tighter with every second that passed without an answer. He stormed into the courtyard, seeking out your housemates with frantic determination.

“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice sharp enough to startle a group of first-years nearby. “Where is she?!”

One of your friends finally stepped forward, hesitant but honest. “She’s... she’s been in bed all day. Said she wasn’t feeling well.”

The words hit him like a Bludger to the chest. Guilt and heartbreak washed over him in waves, drowning out the last remnants of anger. You had been suffering alone, likely because of him—because of what had happened, because of everything Yoonhee had done.

He tried everything—everything—to get through to you. He sent letters, each one carefully written, pouring his heart onto the parchment. He sent messages through your housemates, through your friends, hoping they might convince you to talk to him. Every time he saw a friend of yours, he’d stop them, desperate for any sliver of news.

“How is she? Did she eat today?” he’d ask, his voice laced with worry. “Did she sleep? Is she feeling any better?”

It was always the small things—tiny gestures—to show he cared. That he was thinking about you. That he was sorry. He wanted you to know that it had all been the Amortentia, that none of it had been real. None of it had been his choice. And above all, he wanted you to know that he never, ever meant to hurt you.

But no matter how hard he tried, you remained locked away. Your absence stretched between you like an invisible wall, keeping him out. You weren’t just avoiding him—you were avoiding everyone. And it hurt.

It hurt because he couldn’t see you. He couldn’t talk to you. He couldn’t hold you in his arms and kiss away the pain, couldn’t wipe the tears from your cheeks or make all your worries disappear. He wanted to tell you, face-to-face, how much you meant to him, how much he hated himself for letting this happen. But he couldn’t do any of that—not while you stayed hidden away in your common room, unreachable.

So, he waited. He stayed close, always looking for a chance, a moment, a sign. But until then, he would keep trying, keep hoping, because losing you was something he couldn’t bear.

And he did keep trying. Every day, he checked the places you’d usually be—the library where you’d bury yourself in books, the quiet corner of the courtyard where you’d sit when you needed to think, even the kitchens, where you’d sometimes sneak a late-night snack.

But you weren’t there. You weren’t anywhere.

The less he saw of you, the less he heard of you, the more desperate he grew. His patience—what little he had left—was wearing thin. He couldn’t focus in class, couldn’t eat properly, couldn’t sleep without his thoughts drifting back to you. He wanted—no, needed—to see you. To hear your voice, to know that you were okay, that you didn’t hate him. The thought of you hating him gnawed at his heart like a cruel curse.

He tried to remind himself to give you time, to respect the space you clearly needed. But it was hard. Too hard. Every day that passed felt like another piece of you slipping further away, and he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen.

When another one of your housemates brushed him off with a mumbled “I don’t know,” Heeseung snapped. He didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the frustration and worry boiled over. “How can you not know? You live with her! Hasn’t anyone even seen her?”

The girl flinched but reluctantly admitted, “She’s been in the dorm. She just... doesn’t come out.”

Those words were both a relief and a torment. You were there, within reach, but still so far away from him. The knowledge burned in his chest, twisting into something unbearable. You were so close—just a few walls separating you from him—but it might as well have been an ocean. And he was drowning in it.

Heeseung's desperation grew with every passing moment. He found himself pacing the corridors near your common room, running his hands through his hair, muttering curses under his breath. He couldn’t stand this helplessness, couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone, hurting because of him. The guilt was suffocating, pressing down on him like the weight of the castle itself.

He tried to write another letter, his trembling hands scrawling messy, frantic words onto the parchment.

Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I know you don’t want to see me, but please, just let me explain. Please let me make this right.

He crumpled it and started again, feeling like no words could possibly convey the storm in his chest. How could he put into words how much he hated himself for what happened? How could he tell you that the worst part of it all wasn’t Yoonhee’s betrayal or the humiliation of being under the potion’s effects—it was losing you?

He sent the letter anyway, knowing it was just one of many you’d likely left unopened.

The next day, he cornered one of your closest friends in the hallway. “Please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “Please tell her I’m sorry. Tell her... tell her I’ll wait as long as it takes. I just need her to know.”

The friend hesitated, giving him a pitying look before nodding. But he didn’t trust that it would reach you. Heeseung was running out of patience, running out of hope. Every time he thought about the tears you must have shed, the pain you must have felt, it killed him a little more.

Late one night, he found himself back outside your common room again, leaning against the cold stone wall, staring blankly at the entrance. He didn’t even know what he was doing there. Maybe he hoped you’d come out? Maybe he thought you’d sense him there, that you’d realize he wasn’t going anywhere until you let him in.

His fists clenched at his sides, and before he could stop himself, he let out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead against the wall, his shoulders slumping. “I’ll wait. As long as it takes... I’ll wait for you.”

His voice cracked on the last words, but he meant it. Even if it hurt. Even if it felt like he was being torn apart. You were worth it. You were everything.

Eventually, the Christmas Ball arrived, but Heeseung didn’t want to go. The last thing he wanted was to pretend to enjoy himself, but his friends had other plans. They nagged him, teased him, and pushed him to "just have some fun for once." After a mountain of peer pressure, he reluctantly gave in, throwing on his suit and styling his hair without much care.

He still didn’t expect much. The Ball wasn’t going to fix anything—it was just a night to endure. He let his friends drag him along, had a drink or two, and resigned himself to the chatter around him. None of it mattered.

Until he saw you.

Everything else disappeared the moment his eyes found you across the room. You stood at the edge of the Grand Hall, illuminated by the soft glow of the enchanted snowflakes falling from the ceiling. Your dress shimmered, and you looked breathtaking. Stunning. Like a vision he didn’t deserve to see.

And then he realized—you were staring back at him.

His heart stopped. You weren’t avoiding him this time. You weren’t looking away. Your gaze was locked on his, full of something he couldn’t quite place—uncertainty, maybe? He didn’t care. All he knew was that you were here, and you were looking at him.

Before he could even process what he was doing, his feet started moving. His drink was left abandoned on a nearby table as he strode across the hall, weaving through the crowd until he was right in front of you.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

He had waited for you.

But now, he was done waiting.

For weeks, Heeseung had been nothing but patient, forcing himself to hold back when every fiber of his being screamed to see you, to talk to you, to fix things. He’d stayed away when he knew you needed space. He sent letters, messages, and even flowers, trying to show you he cared without pushing too hard.

And still, he never got a response.

But Heeseung told himself he could endure it, because you were worth it. He could be patient, be understanding, because he loved you. He was good for you, wasn’t he? He cared for you in ways no one else could. No one else would wait this long, worry this much, or fight this hard.

And yet, when he saw you standing there, in your pretty dress, something inside him snapped. He had been so good. He had done everything right. He had given you all the space you asked for, all the time you needed. But seeing you now, after everything, reminded him just how much he’d missed you. How much he’d longed for you. How much it hurt to be apart.

He wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers again. Not when he knew how good the two of you were together.

He didn’t ask for permission when he reached for your hand, didn’t even hesitate—he simply took it, his fingers curling around yours like they belonged there. Because they did. He believed that with every beat of his heart.

As he pulled you toward the corridor, he felt his resolve solidify. He had been patient, more patient than he thought he was capable of, but patience had its limits. He had waited for you to come to him, but you hadn’t. And now that he had you in front of him, he wasn’t going to let you go.

And when you didn’t fight him as he led you into the quiet hallway, it gave him hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, you wanted this too.

a/n: i love writing his pov :) also im not sure when you put ur perm taglist... so im not adding it here xD already posted so much.

[n4nikeni]

Over? We're far from over.

——————————————————————

Characters : Satoru Gojo x Reader x Suguru Geto

Summary : your father had hired two bodyguards for you. Fortunately, they were both your type. One was strict and rough and the other one was carefree and soft. No one knew what goes on behind closed doors.

A/N : I might turn this into a series because bodyguard gojo and Geto!! Hell yeah

——————————————————————

“Gojo! Do you see her? Anywhere in this room?” Geto asked as he looked around everywhere into the crowded club. Flashing lights hitting everyone's eye and the loud music that could be heard from miles away. Gojo on the other hand, was getting tipsy already. A girl came up to him and offered him drinks and who was he to decline such a beauty?

Geto pushed through the crowd and grabbed on his shoulder. Snatching away the small cup in his hands “Gojo you can't be serious right now, she just left without telling us anything and she's nowhere to be found in here! Her height doesn't help either.” Gojo let out a sudden laugh after hearing Geto's remark about their client's height. It was quite true. You were bold enough to sneak out of your place and disobey your father. More than that, your personal bodyguards. But it wasn't really your fault either. You had been bugging them to take you to your friend's birthday party and they can even tag along into the club, Satoru did agree, but Suguru isn't easy to convince.

You weren't drunk, well, not yet. Your friends dragged you on the dance floor and got you enough drinks to be carefree and dance away with ease. Gojo stood up, easily towering over everyone there, he immediately found you swaying your hips with your friends, one was behind you with their hands on your hips and the other infront of you, too drunk to process anything. “There she is, her height might not be helpful but those eyes? Yeah.” Geto followed behind Gojo and finally got to where you were dancing. Suguru is a patient man. After all, you're his client. So, he has no choice. He picked you up by your waist and threw you over his shoulder. That's when you finally realized what you were doing and where you were. Gojo was behind Geto, grinning at you and as you looked up to see your surroundings and process what's going on. “What are you two doing here?! How'd you find out where I am!” you hit on Geto's shoulders. Though your light punches were not effective on him

“We have our ways.”

Satoru opened the car's door as Suguru got in the backseat with you, looking behind to make sure that you don't accidentally hit your head on the way. He placed you down on his thigh as Satoru got in after you two, closing the car's door behind him. Suguru shifted you on his lap, making you face him entirely. His big hands gripping onto your hips, you knew it'll leave a mark with the way he was digging his fingers in your milky skin. “it hurts!” you squirm in his lap, trying to escape his rough hands. “Oh it should. You didn't think once before going out on your own, did you think about what could've happened to you? How it would affect us?” He said, his voice laced with anger and concern. You wanted to speak up but you knew you shouldn't. There's really no explanation for your behavior. You felt Satoru's palm snaking up on your thighs, squeezing each part before moving upwards. “We'd like to remind you about the rules we had set when we became your bodyguards, right sugu?”

“Ah!— too rough!” you protester against suguru's violent thrusts. You were laying on top of Satoru. His cock buried nestled deep inside your velvety walls. He didn't move. He couldn't move. Geto's heavy cock was pounding in you. He couldn't wait no more. Prepping you to take both of them at once wasn't easy. Gojo laid there and enjoyed suguru's base rubbing on his length as he ploughed into you with no mercy. “fucking take it— You have to take it all.” Geto says as he grunts from the way you clenched so deliciously around him. Trapping both him and satoru inside you. Meanwhile, Satoru flicked on your sensitive nipples with his fingers and kissed you to shush you up. Even though anyone who walks or drives past your car would know what's happening inside. “Mmh..you taste like liquor. How many shots did they give you hm?” he asked. You struggled to answer him as suguru pulled you by your hair, your back hitting his chest. Satoru's eyes widen as he notices the small bulge that forms everytime suguru thrusts inside and disappears when he pulls back. He licked his lips and moved his hand from your plump nipples to your swollen clit, rubbing and pinching on it like it's a small toy. You felt the intense pleasure from his fingers and the two cocks already overwhelming you. Before you could moan out, suguru placed his free hand on your mouth, muffling any noises that were about to come out of your mouth. “I'm close..I'm so—close princess...I'm gonna fill you up with all I have. And you're gonna take it.” he punctuated the last two words with hard thrusts. Your head falling on his shoulder as your eyes rolled back. Satoru sits up and kisses on your body, sloppy kisses all over your neck to your chest and stomach, while his fingers kept on fumbling with your puffy clit. Suguru's pace was getting sloppy. You could feel him getting closer and closer to his release. You weren't as close as him. After all they did make you come twice before getting in. It'd take time for your third release. Geto shot his thick and warm semen all the way up to your womb. Filling you up. Your legs went numb as you shuddered. Geto let go of your hair and as you fall on top of Gojo. He slowly pulls out and sits back down, gasping for air. It was finally. Or, was it?

Gojo sighed and placed my legs down, shifting you too as you were now on his lap. “He sure took his sweet time with you baby, but what about me?” Satoru grinned as he slowly thrusted up in your creamy walls. It was far from over.

[hoshifighting]

Ways to Have a Man in the Palm of Your Hand.

— Synopsis: In the flow of uncertainty that defined your situationship with Mingyu, you decide to take action, making Mingyu start chasing after you like a loyal puppy. — WC: 3.9k — WARNINGS: Smut, unprotected sex, overstimulation, degradation, begging on knees, oral (f. receiving), fingering– he watches reader fingering herself, handjob, dick riding, penetrative sex, humiliating, manipulation and etc.

Your life connected with Mingyu's since you both first met through your groups of friends, and a situationship had emerged between you two. It was just sex, with no strings attached and no promises made.

Yet, as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, it became challenging to keep your heart safe from the unpredictable tides of emotion.

Mingyu had a way of making you feel special. He'd surprise you with homemade dinners, he was attentive, considerate, and made sure to put your self-esteem on the highest with his skillful photography.

The tall and good-looking guy wasn't just amazing during sex; he was an enigma that both fascinated and frustrated you. Mingyu could vanish for days, leaving you on blue. But just as you were about to write him off, he'd resurface, as if nothing had happened. It was a maddening cycle, and yet, you found yourself caught in its web.

Mingyu: Hey! Been swamped asf with work lately. Let's grab coffee or something stronger soon? Let me know when you're free!

You couldn't help but scoff as you read Mingyu's message. His casual tone and nonchalant invitation stirred a mix of irritation and amusement within you. Swiftly typing a response, you questioned his unpredictable appearances.

You: Are you planning on always popping up out of nowhere like this?

Mingyu: I always come back, don't I? So, when are we catching up darling?

Despite the inner conflict and your ego's warning signals, there was an undeniable allure to Mingyu's charm. His words, laced with playfulness, had a magnetic effect that bypassed rational thoughts. With a sigh, you found yourself succumbing to the familiar pull.

The room was filled with the echoes of skin slapping as you both lay on Mingyu's bed, your eyes locked as you two moaned out loud, the crescendo of pleasure punctuated by the rhythmic thud of the bed against the wall.

Mingyu lays beside you, the heat of the moment still lingering between your bodies. You rose from the tangled sheets, picking up your scattered clothes. Mingyu's gaze remained fixed on you, an intensity that betrayed a deeper connection than the situationship allowed. 

"I really like spending time with you Y/N" 

"Me too Gyu." 

[...]

Seungkwan leaned in "Okay, spill. What's the latest drama with Mingyu?"

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Honestly, I can't figure him out. It's like a cycle. We talk every day for a month, hang out, fuck, and then poof! He disappears for a week or more. I don't get it."

Seungkwan chuckled knowingly. "You know, maybe you should try something. Do the same to him, but take it up a notch. Make him miss you even more."

You furrowed your eyebrows, slightly taken aback. "Seungkwan, I'm not into playing games or being spiteful. It's not my style."

He waved his hand dismissively. "No, no, hear me out. It's not about being spiteful. It's about making him realize what he's missing. Mingyu knows you'll always be there, right? So, he takes it for granted. Maybe he needs a taste of his own medicine."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious. "And how exactly do I do that?"

Your mouth hung open as Seungkwan delivered his comprehensive lesson in the art of emotional tactics. The confidence in his advice left you both amazed and slightly apprehensive. Unable to contain your curiosity any longer, you finally asked the burning question.

"How on earth do you know all of this, Seungkwan?" you inquired, eyes wide with disbelief.

Seungkwan leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, my dear friend, when you've been in the game as long as I have and witnessed enough romantic dramas unfold, you start picking up on patterns. It's like a survival guide for the heart."

You raised an eyebrow, still processing the information. "Survival guide, huh? And all this contempt, playing hard to get, and hurting egos – that's your secret weapon?"

Seungkwan chuckled, "Not a secret weapon, sometimes, a little strategic move can make all the difference. Trust me, I've seen it all."

With Seungkwan's advice resonating in your mind like a strategic playbook, you approached the next phase of your relationship with Mingyu, with a newfound determination. It felt like diving into a complex homework assignment, each step carefully calculated to shift the dynamics in your favor.

As you decided to implement the first step, a newfound sense of liberation washed over you. You stopped responding to Mingyu's messages immediately and resisted the urge to initiate contact. It felt strange at first, but there was a sense of power in reclaiming your time and not being at his beck and call. Mingyu's messages awaited your attention. 

The challenge of making Mingyu realize he could lose you sparked a newfound determination. Your calendar filled up with plans that didn't involve Mingyu. Mingyu, accustomed to your constant availability, seemed to sense the change, though he couldn't quite pinpoint it. He might have been the object of desire for many hoes, but your indifference challenged his accustomed narrative. 

After all, a man is not more important than your personal goals, right?

All while allowing Mingyu to observe your life unfolding without him. The realization that you were not waiting by the phone for him sparked a large curiosity.

Throughout the process, a mix of emotions surfaced. Doubt, at times, whispered in the back of your mind – was this the right approach? Seungkwan's advice, unconventional as it was, had brought a shift in Mingyu's behavior. Now, you wondered how Mingyu would respond to the transformed version of you – a person who refused to be taken for granted.

Mingyu's relentless messages flooded your phone. The janitor, a silent witness to the unfolding drama, discreetly shared the news of Mingyu's visits to your condominium entrance. Three times he had appeared, seeking a glimpse of you, only to be met with the absence of your presence, the deliberate distance, and the air of indifference were beginning to provoke a reaction from him.

You were determined to see this journey through, to understand whether Mingyu's renewed interest was genuine or a fleeting reaction to the perceived loss of control.

The persistent pings of Mingyu's messages had become a constant background noise in your life, infiltrating your workdays and even interrupting the serene moments of your brunches.

"Free today, Ms. Busy?"

"Pls respond to me. :(("

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Wtf…"

"Omggg, when are you going to answer me properly?"

"I'll invade your house."

"Y/N-ieeee, pleaseee!"

"I really want to see you right now."

"You make me so confused :("

The encounter at the pedestrian crossing unfolded in a scene of unexpected tension. Mingyu, spotting you in the midst of your Sunday morning run with Seungkwan, seized the opportunity to bridge the gap that had grown between you. As you halted, waiting for the light to change, Mingyu approached, a mixture of eagerness and confusion etched across his face.

"Hey there! Fancy meeting you here," Mingyu greeted, attempting to strike up a conversation.

Seungkwan, standing beside you, looked on with a side-eyed glance, a smirk playing on his lips as he sipped casually from his water bottle. As the pedestrian light shifted to green, you seized the moment to extricate yourself from the short encounter. "Sorry, Mingyu, I really need to finish my morning walk. Catch you later," you excused yourself, leaving Mingyu standing there, perplexed and surrounded by the bustling activity of the street.

He couldn't shake off the confusion – Why weren't you responding as before? Why weren't you as available as you used to be? Did you at least still like him? It dawned on Mingyu that the game had changed, and he wasn't sure if he understood the rules anymore. The pursuit, once fueled by the expectation of your constant availability, now seemed to slip through his fingers like grains of sand. The reality of being just one among the many who sought your attention was a bitter pill to swallow.

[...]

The doorbell's unexpected chime disrupted the tranquility of your self-care routine, with moisturized skin and a mind ready for a cozy movie night, you approached the door, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

As you swung the door open, the sulky face of Mingyu greeted you. A momentary pause hung in the air, your eyes meeting his in silent expectation. Before you could utter a word, Mingyu stepped inside, dropping to his knees and hugging your legs as if seeking solace.

Surprised by his sudden display of vulnerability, you widen your eyes, caught off guard by the intensity of his reaction. The door lingered ajar, and you managed to close it, arms crossed, a mixture of confusion and caution etched on your face.

Mingyu, still hugging your legs, looked up at you with pleading eyes, his voice laden with remorse. "What did I do, Y/N? Why are you treating me like this? I'm sorry."

"Hm?"

He looked up at you, his eyes brimming with a mix of confusion and regret. "I just… I don' understand. I miss you," he admitted, his voice trailing off.

Your initial surprise transformed into a mix of emotions – disbelief, a hint of empathy, and the need to assert your newfound boundaries. Crossed arms and a measured gaze met Mingyu's desperate expression. The sudden intrusion into your personal space prompted a silent assessment of the situation.

"What did you expect, Mingyu?" you countered, your voice steady but laced with the weight of unspoken questions. "You disappear, then reappear, and now you're kneeling in my living room. What's going on?"

"I messed up, okay? I thought I could keep things casual, but I didn't expect to feel like this. I miss the way things used to be between us." he confessed, his voice carrying a raw honesty.

"You ask me to come to your house, and then after you get what you wanted, you let me go. Do I look like a food delivery or something?" you confronted Mingyu, your words cutting through the charged silence that hung in the room.

Mingyu's eyes widened at your accusation, shock and a hint of hurt registering on his face. "No, no, no, Y/N, it wasn't like that."

You raised an eyebrow, a mix of skepticism and frustration evident in your expression. "It feels like you only want me around when it's convenient for you."

Mingyu, still on his knees, looked up at you, his eyes pleading for understanding. "It's not like that. I just... I didn't want to push you. I thought you preferred it this way."

You sighed, the weight of the unresolved tension palpable. "Mingyu, I can't read your mind. If you want me to stay, you have to say it. Communication goes both ways."

"Y/N, I'm truly sorry. I'll do whatever you want. I didn't see you as just a fleeting thing, and I want to be present."

Mingyu's earnest apology hung in the air, a plea for understanding and a promise to change. As he laid his face on your bare thighs, expressing his sincere regret, you cut through the moment with a tsk sound, a dismissive gesture that left him wide-eyed and caught off guard.

"Poor boy, begging on his knees for attention. What a shame," you remarked, a hint of teasing in your voice as you observed his reaction.

Mingyu, his hands now gripping each side of your thighs, sat back on his feet, his expression a mix of surprise and a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. He hadn't anticipated this response, your playful teasing catching him off guard.

"You didn't see me as a fleeting thing?" you continued, your tone mockingly contemplative. "Well, Mingyu, this is quite a sight – you, on your knees, practically begging for my attention. I'd never do something like this."

His widened eyes met yours, uncertainty and a trace of embarrassment flickering in them. Mingyu's bit his lip, cheeks flushing deeper.

"I'll do whatever you want, Y/N. Just tell me," Mingyu replied, his hands still holding your thighs.

You let out a soft chuckle, running a hand through his hair as you continued your teasing. "Oh, Mingyu-ah, the mighty one on his knees. Maybe you'll learn to appreciate what you have when it's not handed to you on a silver platter. Now, let's see if you can keep up with your promises."

As you spoke, Mingyu's cheeks continued to flush, a complex dance of emotions playing out on his face.  "How can you forgive me?" 

Mingyu's question hung in the air, a genuine plea for forgiveness. You paused, considering the weight of his words, before adopting a more serious tone.

"Get up," you instructed him, your voice carrying a command that seemed to catch him off guard.

Mingyu, without hesitation, rose to his feet from his submissive position. His eyes fixed on you. An arched eyebrow and a smirk played on your face, savoring the moment of dominance as you instructed him to follow you.

The atmosphere grew charged with anticipation as Mingyu attentively trailed behind you, his eyes inevitably drawn to your body covered only by a shirt. The click of your bedroom door signaled a shift in the dynamics, and when you turned to face him, his eagerness manifested in an attempted kiss.

Your finger halted his advance, a calculated pause preceding your question, "Do you think you deserve to kiss me?"

Mingyu, his eyes reflecting a mix of longing and remorse, shook his head no. Your smirk deepened as you delivered a verdict that left him whimpering.

"Then you won't kiss me today."

A whimper escaped Mingyu's lips, a sound that echoed the frustration and desire that simmered beneath the surface. The unexpected turn of events had left him yearning for a connection, yet you, in your assertive control, denied him that solace.

As the tension hung in the air, Mingyu's eyes glistened with unshed tears. The dynamics between you had taken a surprising turn, a power play that left both of you navigating the intricate threads of desire, forgiveness, and the consequences of a maybe – ex-complicated situationship.

With a commanding tone, you instructed Mingyu to kneel once again, a subtle smirk playing on your lips. He obeyed, sinking down to his knees with a mix of anticipation and eagerness. The air in the room crackled with a palpable tension as you laid down the terms.

"If you act like a good boy, maybe I'll forgive you," you declared, your voice carrying a hint of authority.

Mingyu nodded earnestly, a silent pledge to abide by your terms. As you proceeded to remove your shirt, next your pantie, allowing it to fall to the floor, the atmosphere became charged with a new layer of intensity. 

"How much do you want this pussy Mingyu?" you inquired, the question hanging in the air as you observed Mingyu's reaction. His shoulders slumped, a subtle expression of desire and longing evident on his face.

"A lot," he moaned, the words escaping his lips with a mixture of need and surrender. Your legs spread open, an invitation too tempting, as he feels his mouth waters at the view. 

"Open your mouth," you commanded Mingyu, your voice carrying an air of authority. He complied without hesitation, anticipation flickering in his eyes.

As he held his mouth open, you slid two fingers inside, the intimate contact a subtle exploration of boundaries and desire. Mingyu's tongue teased your fingers, a provocative dance that elicited a hiss from you.

"No teasing," you admonished, a note of warning in your voice. With a swift motion, you delivered a little slap to his chin as you withdrew your fingers from his mouth. The air crackled with a newfound tension, a moment that blurred the lines between control and submission.

Mingyu furrowed his eyebrows, as he watched your fingers slowly disappearing inside of your cunt, your fingers and your slick gushes out of you, and all he can do is watch. He sits patiently on his feet, watching your fingers leaving and entering your pussy in a too provocative rhythm. His bottom lip quivering to the desire of eating you out.

"Please Y/N…"

"What?''

"Please, let me eat you out, it looks so good…"

To tease him even more, you fastened your fingers, moaning while your cunt sounded like Mingyu's favorite song, wet, luscious, mouthwatering, appetizing, tempting. He cries out, his hands together on his lap. "Please, I beg you, I missed you so bad." 

The room was charged with a blend of anticipation and surrender as you stopped, taking a moment to look at Mingyu's mournful face. The desire in his eyes was palpable, and the silent plea for what he had begged for lingered in the air.

With a subtle nod, you allowed him to fulfill his request. Mingyu, starved and eager, approached the task with a concentration that hinted at a deep desire to please you. As he held you with a gentle yet fervent touch, mouthing your pussy, licking you clean, his focus on your pleasure was unwavering. The way he clung to you conveyed a fear of losing you, made you mewl as he sucked your clit, you held onto the sheets, a silent anchor in the sea of sensations. Mingyu's devotion and the way he concentrated on your pleasure only intensified the building release within you. Like a wave, you're cumming all over his mouth and chin, he hums in response flickering your clit with his tongue.

"Enough." You breathe out, closing your legs. "Strip, and lay for me." 

Mingyu rose from the floor, a determined look on his face, seemingly oblivious to any discomfort his knees might be feeling. The sounds of his clothing being discarded echoed in the room, punctuated by the soft thud as he settled onto the bed. The mattress shifted as he moved closer, his warm touch caressing your arm.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, his voice a low murmur, a hint of curiosity and desire lingering in the air.

"Don't touch me," you instructed Mingyu, your tone carrying a note of command as you climbed onto his lap. Leaving him momentarily frozen, his hands hovering in the air, uncertain of where to go.

The close proximity of his cock intensified the wetness between your thighs. Mingyu, eager and responsive, looked at you with a mix of desire and restraint, his hands now cautiously placed together on his chest.

The atmosphere crackled with a blend of dominance and submission as you straddled Mingyu, humping your wet pussy against his cock, your movements deliberate and provocative. His moans in response to your degrading words only heightened the intensity of the moment.

"Oh my god, look at you," you cooed, your voice a mix of mockery and desire. "I just stopped paying attention to you, and you came fucking begging me to talk with you. You're humiliating, Mingyu."

His moans, a symphony of pleasure and submission, filled the room. Mingyu's response to your degrading words conveyed a complex dance of desire and self-awareness. The acknowledgment that he deserved the degradation.

The room filled with a momentary hush as you sank your hips, Mingyu's length now fully inside. He shut his eyes, a silent surrender to the sensations that enveloped him. 

The unspoken admission hung in the air—though you wouldn't openly admit it, there was a trace of longing, a subtle acknowledgment that, despite the complexities, you had missed him a little. The air became charged with a mix of desire and restraint as your hips rode him, his length fully fulfilling the connection between you.

His angry tip brushed against that special spot, sending a surge of pleasure through both of you, cause now, you were so tight around him. "I'm going to cum, f-fuck"

"You better not." 

The charged atmosphere intensified as you edged Mingyu, denying him release, while simultaneously relishing in the control you held over his pleasure. He gasped for air, his eyes clenched shut, a desperate attempt to hold back as your dominating presence and the sensations of your movements threatened to overwhelm him.

Your hips moved with a purposeful intensity, driving him to the edge, and his body contorted in a desperate attempt to maintain control. The struggle was evident in the way his breath hitched and his eyes rolled back, succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure that surged through him.

"I-I can't hold it anymore," he stuttered, his voice strained with the effort of restraint.

"If you cum, I will-"

The moment of release was inevitable. Mingyu's hot cum filled you, triggering your own orgasm, he cried out your name, making your wall clench harder around him.

As Mingyu managed a string of apologies, you allowed him to slide out of you, leaving his lap coated with both of your arousal, your legs damp with his seed. 

The scoff echoed in the room, a mix of amusement and assertion. However, your actions spoke a different language. As you tighten your legs around the sides of Mingyu's legs, restraining his movement, your hands take control, pumping his cock fast. The focus on his red tip elicited a loud cry from Mingyu, his back lifting off the mattress in response to the overstimulation.

The wet sounds filled the bedroom as the intensity of your touch drove him to the edge. Mingyu's hands gripped the pillow beneath his head, a desperate attempt to anchor himself in the whirlwind of sensations that consumed him.

As Mingyu's body trembled under the heightened sensations, he felt a knot tightening in his abdomen, a sensation he hadn't anticipated. The overwhelming intensity built up to a point where he couldn't contain it anymore. A primal scream tore from his lips, his body convulsing in the throes of another orgasm.

His cum pooled on his abdomen, a physical manifestation of the powerful release that coursed through him. You observed his trembling body, struck by the raw intensity of his response. Mingyu's reaction seemed to surpass any previous experiences, his vulnerability and ecstasy on display in a way you hadn't witnessed before.

"Sorry, I came without your permission…"

"Enough with the sorry's, Mingyu," you said with a soft smile. "Let's just take a bath."

As the warm water cascaded around you, cleansing away the external worries, you both found solace in the simplicity of the moment. Emerging from the bath, you lay on the bed alone, the silence speaking volumes. Mingyu, holding his shirt, stood in contemplation. His gaze met yours, and he released a breath he seemed to have been holding.

The room felt charged with unspoken emotions when Mingyu finally gathered the courage to ask, "Can we sleep together tonight? Can I stay here with you?"

His eyes held a lot of shyness, and for a moment, you felt a genuine change in the air. You bit your lip, a subtle smile playing on your lips. In response, you patted the bed twice, a silent invitation for him to join you.

Mingyu threw his shirt away with a smile, a blend of shyness and excitement. He settled on the bed, maintaining a cautious distance, uncertain about what the night held. Your gaze met his, and you turned to face him. His eyes sparkled, and with a newfound boldness, he closed the gap and hugged you tightly.

"Don't be away from me again," he whispered, his voice tinged with vulnerability. And for the first time in those weeks, you let yourself savor the sweet taste of his pink soft lips, making him melt in response.

You smiled, your palms sliding gently along his back. The walls that once stood between you seemed to crumble as Mingyu embraced you, his actions speaking louder than any words. In that moment, it felt like a page turned, and a new chapter began.

Well, Seungkwan, you knew a lot. The five ways to have a man in the palm of your hand indeed. 

[thesecondhandwoman]

Hii

(Firstly, English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes) Well, can you do one of Ambessa or Sevika with the blind Reader, but who is already used to it and can do several things on her own, giving her one scare or another? Like, disappearing out of nowhere and coming back with some shopping as if nothing had happened. Even better if she has a guide dog.

BLINDED LOVER

Ambessa x Sevika x f!reader

Synopsis: You had always worried Sevika and Ambessa when you went out alone, besides the company of your guide dog due to the fact you were blind. And when you come back home with a scrap, they were all over you.

Request: Anon 🤍

A/N: Since it could have been Ambesa or Sevika, I chose both (because I’m a simp.)

The late afternoon sun dipped below the skyline of Zaun, casting the world in golden hues laced with the grime of industrial fog. Your guide dog, Juno, trotted by your side, her pace steady, her breathing even. The city’s familiar scents—steel, oil, and the sharp tang of something burning—filled the air.

Your cane tapped lightly along the ground in a measured rhythm. Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Paired with Juno’s footsteps, it was a song you’d long since memorized.

The marketplace was its usual mess of noise, voices overlapping as street vendors called out deals, children squealed in the distance, and the faint rumble of distant machinery shook the ground. It was loud, sure, but you’d been navigating this chaos for years. Juno, ever the professional, led you with practiced precision.

“Good girl, Juno,” you murmured, fingers brushing lightly over the harness. Her tail wagged once.

You reached for the small mental checklist you’d built in your head. Bread, fruit, the spicy honey Ambessa likes, coffee for Sevika. You’d already grabbed the honey and bread, and the smell of fresh fruit told you that the next stall was your target.

“‘Scuse me, sweetheart,” a rough voice called as someone brushed by your shoulder, too fast and too close.

You barely had time to react. The edge of something sharp—maybe a metal buckle, a jagged bag strap, or a chipped corner of a crate—scraped against your cheek. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it stung like hell, a bright hot flash of pain that made you suck in a sharp breath.

“Ah, dammit,” you hissed, pressing your fingers against your cheek. It was warm and sticky. Blood. Not much, but enough to be annoying.

The person was gone as fast as they’d come, no apology, no acknowledgment. Juno bumped her head against your leg, her way of checking in. You gave her a quick pat.

“I’m okay, Juno,” you assured her, feeling around in your bag for the tissues you always kept on hand. You found one and pressed it to the scrape. “Just a bump. No big deal.”

It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. Zaun was crowded, chaotic, and full of sharp edges, both literal and metaphorical. You weren’t made of glass. People bumped into each other here—it wasn’t personal.

But you knew it would be personal to them.

Sevika was pacing again.

Her heavy boots thudded against the floor, her metal arm flexing at her side. She glanced at the clock, eyes narrowing at the numbers like they’d wronged her.

“She’s late,” Sevika grumbled, her voice low but tense. “Fifteen minutes past her ‘forty minutes tops,’ Ambessa.”

“Patience, darling,” Ambessa replied from the kitchen. The clink of glass echoed as she set her wine down on the counter. “She’s not fragile. You know that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sevika muttered, dragging a hand down her face. “Still doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Ambessa hummed knowingly. She stepped forward, her broad frame moving with the kind of grace that made every motion look like a deliberate strategy. She approached Sevika, fingers trailing lightly down her metal arm, cool against the smooth steel.

“You worry because you love her,” Ambessa said softly, leaning in to press a kiss to Sevika’s temple. “And that’s not a bad thing.”

Sevika’s scowl softened, just a little. “Yeah, well, loving her makes me want to keep her wrapped in steel.”

“Which she’d chew through the second you tried,” Ambessa quipped, eyes crinkling with affection.

Their moment of calm was interrupted by the soft jingle of Juno’s collar and the familiar, rhythmic click-thud of your cane tapping its way through the hall.

“Door,” Sevika muttered, already moving.

Her sharp eyes watched as the handle turned, the door opening to reveal you. Juno stepped in first, her tail wagging happily, tongue lolling as she looked up at Sevika like she’d just returned from a grand adventure.

“Hey,” you called, breathless but cheerful. “Sorry I’m a little late. The market was wild today.”

You closed the door behind you, hands busy feeling for the lock to twist it into place. It took you only a second longer than usual, your muscle memory guiding you. Your bag hung from one arm, a reusable tote filled with clinking jars and fresh bread.

Sevika’s eyes were on you instantly, sharp as a blade. She stepped forward, already halfway through scolding you for being late when she froze.

Her gaze locked onto the smear of dried blood along your cheek.

“The hell is that?” Sevika’s voice was low, deadly quiet.

You blinked, turning toward her. “Huh?” Your hand lifted automatically to your cheek, fingers brushing over the half-dried scrape. It stung, but it wasn’t bad.

“Oh, this? Some guy bumped into me,” you said casually, tilting your head toward the sound of her footsteps. “Not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Sevika was suddenly in front of you, all heat and intensity. Her metal fingers gripped your chin, tilting your face up gently but firmly. “That’s blood, babe.”

“I know,” you said with a sigh, letting her tilt your head as her eyes scanned you like you were a broken machine she needed to repair. “It’s barely a scratch, Sev. Just some guy with a bag. Happens all the time.”

“Not supposed to happen to you,” she muttered, her eyes hard as stone, jaw tight. Her human hand ran over your face, as if checking for hidden injuries you might not have noticed. Her thumb brushed over the scrape, so, so gently, and you felt her exhale slowly.

Ambessa’s presence was sudden but not surprising. She moved behind you, one hand resting on your shoulder. Her touch was a slow, grounding weight, firm but never overbearing. Her fingers brushed over your hair as she stepped closer, taking in the sight of the dried blood.

“Did he touch you?” Ambessa’s voice was deceptively calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that made generals surrender without a fight.

“Not really,” you said quickly, turning your head to face her. “He brushed past me too fast, and something sharp caught my cheek. It’s fine.”

“Is it?” Sevika growled.

“Yes, it is,” you insisted, pulling back slightly, though her hands lingered on you. “Seriously, it’s not like I got jumped. It’s Zaun. People bump into people.”

“People,” Sevika muttered, eyes narrowed, “shouldn’t bump into you. Especially since you are blind. Shit, you have everything to show them that too.”

“Sevika,” you sighed, exhaustion seeping into your voice. “I’m not a porcelain doll. I got bumped, not broken.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sevika grumbled, arms folding over her chest, her gaze still locked on your cheek like it had personally insulted her.

Ambessa leaned down, her lips brushing your temple, her voice warm but firm. “It matters because you’re ours.”

Your chest ached at that, not from pain, but from love so fierce it felt like armor.

“Come on,” Sevika muttered, taking your hand and pulling you toward the couch. “Let me clean it up.”

You didn’t argue, since you knew there was no winning when both of them had decided you needed coddling.

Later that night, the three of you lay curled together on the couch, Juno snoring softly at your feet. Sevika sat with her back to the armrest, one leg draped over yours, her human hand tracing lazy circles on your knee.

You rested against Ambessa’s chest, her arms folded around you, her warmth seeping into every inch of you. Her hand brushed through your hair in slow, soothing strokes.

“You two are ridiculous,” you murmured, but you were smiling.

“Love is ridiculous,” Ambessa replied, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Yeah,” Sevika muttered, leaning down to kiss the side of your face just below the freshly bandaged scrape. Her lips lingered there, soft and careful. “And we love you.”

“Too much,” you said, but your eyes were already closing.

“Not possible,” Ambessa whispered, fingers threading through your hair.

You didn’t argue. You didn’t need to.

You were home, and even if you couldn’t see it’s beauty, you could feel it with them.

[limethefirst]

UGH MY HEART— I READ THE FANFIC YOU WROTE WHERE THE READER REMINDED SHADOW OF MARIA AND IT WAS SO CUTTEE!! Can I request another one with the same concept? Maybe one where the reader gets hurt in some way connected to the movie’s story line, and Shadow’s scares of losing them? Like how he lost Maria!

Not again

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader [platonic]

warnings: sonic 3 spoilers, mentions of injury, G.U.N shoots a (implied) minor…when don’t they

summary: While trying to infiltrate the G.U.N headquarters, you get caught and are fortunately saved by Shadow after a rough encounter

a/n: this request was challenging for me to think on because I wasn’t sure how to incorporate the reader getting hurt in the story since I didn’t know any moments that made sense but here you go! I’m sorry if it’s not the best but I hope you enjoyed and tysm for supporting my stories!!!

The plan was simple, Robotnik and Gerald would get in and out, while you would infiltrate the GUN base. Unfortunately life had a way of throwing curve balls at you. As you hid behind a wall, opening your computer to try and deactivate some security protocols a stray guard managed to stumble upon you.

“Hey, you,” the guard somewhat yelled, making you quickly snap your head up from your small laptop. You definitely did not look like you belonged here, you were too young compared to most of the other people here who were in their mid 30s to late 40s, “Let me see your badge,”

Oh no, this was something you didn’t prepare for, you didn’t have a badge, you were stuck here. Quickly thinking you set a small distress signal to Stone from the small laptop still held in your grasp, letting him know of your situation.

Nervously you responded to the guard, “Uh I- uhm forgot my ID back home,” you patted yourself down, pretending to look for an ID that you obviously didn’t have. As you did you slowly put the laptop on the floor.

The guard, clearly not believing you, turned on his radio calling for backup. Your mind was racing, you knew getting caught was not an option so the only thing you could do at this point was run.

“You get back here!” You made a quick glance back, seeing as two other men, with actual guns started to chase after you, their weapons raised to you.

There was no way they’d actually shoot at someone, especially someone actively way younger than them.

Suddenly your arm stung, red began to seep through your fake uniform, oh god they were really shooting at you.

You quickly turned the corner running behind a wall, trying to get away. A small lab was close by, maybe you could hide in there and hope they would pass you by.

The door was open by some miracle; quickly slipping into the dark and empty room you made your way to the desk off by the far right and sat down there, covering your mouth holding back the scream you wanted to let out from the burning bullet wound on your arm. It wasn’t a massive wound, not by any means, it was a graze but it was still a gun shot and it hurt like hell. Tears were threatening to spill from your glossy eyes but the fear of making noise kept them at bay.

You heard the door creak open, light footsteps echoing in the room. They were nearing and you had nowhere to run, surely they wouldn’t kill you, that wasn’t morally right but they shot at you, well you were trespassing on government property so you weren’t sure what they’d do.

You heard a creak to your left; they’d found you. You saw the man reach for the electrical handcuffs but before he had the chance to grab them a sudden flash of red caught you by surprise.

Shadow had found you as well, you watched him take down the three men. He teleported throughout the room, confusing the men. He began to teleport between the men, going from one to the next, landing a hit on each before he did it again.

You sat there, your back against the wall, your breathing was heavy, your eyes wide, fear lacing your every feature.

Once Shadow had finally finished he turned back to you, his stoic and angry gaze quickly falling, his eyes widened as he quickly made his way over to you. He gently but urgently grabbed your bloody arm, his face a mix of anger and fear.

He was normally very neutral, the only thing on his mind revenge, but currently all he sensed was fear. This scene was all too familiar to him, it reminded him of those terrifying moments he had so many years ago.

As Shadow held a tight grip on your arm, the tears that were brimming your eyes had finally fell, you tried to choke the sobs but all the adrenaline had finally wore off. Shadow looked around the room, finding some gauze that he then used to wrap around the wound.

Once he had stopped you could no longer hold yourself back, you quickly grabbed onto Shadows torso as you sat on the cold dirty floor, your face red with tears and snot. Shadow stood still, he was enraged, long ago GUN had taken something he cared about, and once again they tried to take something else.

He slowly let his arms wrap around your shaking figure, he knew how to comfort people, he’d done it with Maria before, but it had been so long.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Shadow quietly comforted, his words didn’t do much but you knew you could trust them. So you just sat there, as Shadow waited, remembering what it was like to care and comfort someone.

[deansbeer]

prized possession ⎯⎯ DEAN WINCHESTER.

⎯⎯ DEMON!DEAN decides to keep your soaked lace panties, because it drives his heightened senses wild for you. and the guy is not one bit shameful about it.

♡ KARI YAPS! god, hes such a freak && i love it sm. i thought of this idea w @titsout4nicholas @a1ecmcdowell @jasvtsc earlier in the day bc i fear demon!dean's corrupted my mind entirely.

♡ WARNING(S) filthy smut | oral sex (f!receiving) | possessive!dean | overstimulation | power dynamics | dom!dean | praise kink | lace panties kink (?) | explicit language | little bit of manhandling. mdni ♱ 18 plus. adult content.

📖 JACKLES library.

sex with dean has always been intense, but now that he's a demon, it's on a whole other level—like everything about him, his hunger for you has amplified tenfold. every time he touches you, it's like he's trying to ruin you, to mark you in a way that'll never fully fade. and when it's over, he's always got that cocky, unbothered smirk that drives you insane. tonight's no different.

you're sprawled out on the bed, still catching your breath, your body a trembling mess from what he just put you through. he's leaning against the wall now, shirtless, his jeans hanging low on his hips. his hair is a mess, his lips still swollen from kissing every inch of you, and yet he looks like the devil himself—because, well, technically he is.

you roll onto your side, groaning softly as you reach out for your panties, the pretty black lace pair you'd been wearing before he tore them off of you like they'd offended him.

except… they're not there.

"dean," you say, your voice sharp despite how wrecked you feel. "where the hell are my panties?"

he raises an eyebrow, looking at you like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. "what panties?"

"don't play dumb, winchester," you huff, sitting up on the bed and glaring at him. "the black lace ones. the ones you just ripped off me."

a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face, and your stomach sinks. "oh, those," he says, pushing off the wall and heading for the door. "yeah, those are mine now."

your jaw drops. "what the fuck do you mean 'yours'?"

he shrugs, completely unfazed. "i mean i'm keepin' 'em. they're soaked, sweetheart. absolutely drenched. you think i'm just gonna let you throw those in the laundry like they're not a fuckin' work of art?"

you grab a pillow and chuck it at him, but he dodges it easily, laughing as he disappears out the door. "un-fucking-believable," you mutter, shaking your head. luckily, you're home—so you grab another clean pair of panties from your dresser and slip them on, grumbling to yourself about how ridiculous he is.

you think that's the end of it. you really do. but then, over the next few days, you start to notice something… weird. for one, the black lace panties are nowhere to be found in your dirty laundry, even though you were sure he'd just been messing with you. and two, dean's been acting a little… off. not in a bad way! but in a way that makes your face flush whenever he looks at you. like he knows something you don't.

it's not until one night that you catch him red-handed. you're heading down the hallway, on your way to grab some water, when you spot him leaning against the wall, his back to you. at first, you don't think much of it—until you see what he's holding in his hand.

your fucking panties.

you stop dead in your tracks, your mouth falling open as you watch him lift them to his nose and take a deep, slow inhale, his eyes fluttering shut like he's savoring the scent.

"are you kidding me?" you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

he doesn't even flinch. instead, he turns to you, completely unabashedly, holding the panties up like a trophy. "nah," he says, smirking. "not kidding."

"dean," you groan, your voice low but stern as you stalk toward him. "you've kept those this whole time? what is wrong with you?"

"what's wrong with me?" he repeats, his grin widening as he tucks the panties into his back pocket like they belong there. "what’s wrong with you? you're the one who smells like that."

you gape at him, heat flushing down the back of your neck. "i don't even—what does that even mean?"

he steps closer, crowding into your space, and you can feel the heat rolling off him, thick and heavy. "it means, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice low and rough, "that every time i get a whiff of these"—he pats his pocket—"i wanna fuck you all over again. so, yeah, i kept 'em. you got a problem with that?"

you're speechless, torn between being upset and… turned on. because of course you're turned on. he's DEAN WINCHESTER, and he's looking at you like he's seconds away from devouring you.

"you're insane," you manage, shaking your head.

"yeah?" he drawls, his hand curling around your waist. "well, you're about to be."

before you can respond, he's grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. you yelp, your palms against his back to steady yourself, but he doesn't even slow down, carrying you straight to the bedroom.

"dean! put me down!" you protest, but he just chuckles, slapping your ass hard enough to make you gasp.

"not a chance, baby," he says, tossing you onto the bed like a rag doll.

you barely have time to sit up before he's on you, yanking at your jeans with a single-minded determination that has your heart racing. "dean—"

"shut up," he growls, his voice dark and commanding as he strips you down, practically ripping your panties off in the process. "you've been walkin' around all day with this fuckin' scent, drivin' me insane. you think i'm just gonna let that slide?"

before you can answer, his mouth is on you, his tongue dragging through your folds like he's starved. he grips your thighs, holding you open as he devours you, his light stubble scratching against your sensitive skin.

"fuck," he groans, pulling back just enough to look at you, his lips glistening. "you taste good, babydoll. could do this for hours."

your head falls back against the bed, a moan slipping from your lips as he plunges back in, licking and sucking like he's on a mission. his grip tightens when you try to squirm away, his fingers digging into your thighs as he holds you in place.

"dean—mmm, fuck, shit—" you whimper, your hands tugging at his hair.

"you can do it," he growls against you, the vibrations making you shudder. "and you fuckin' will."

he doesn't stop, doesn't let up, and soon you're trembling beneath him, the pressure building low in your belly until it snaps, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

he doesn't pull away, even as you try to push at his shoulders, too sensitive to handle the way his tongue keeps teasing your clit. "oh, fuck! dean—s'too much—"

"nah," he mutters, his voice muffled against you. "not done yet."

and he means it. by the time he's finished with you, you're a wreck—sweaty, breathless, and completely at his mercy. he finally pulls back, his lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"told you," he says, leaning down to kiss you, slow and filthy. "you're fuckin' addictive, sweetheart."

you're too exhausted to respond, but the look in his eyes tells you this isn't the last time he't pulling a stunt like this. and honestly? you don't really mind.

[lanabuckybarnes]

Winter’s Girl

18+ Minors DNI

(I do not own any photos, credits to original owners)

Could you imagine being a scientist on the winter soldier program, your task is to make sure he’s at 100% before every mission. This time though, when you enter his holding cell he’s nowhere to be found.

Note: I HIT 300 FOLLOWERS; thank you guys so much I love you all xxxx

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader

Warnings: Translated Russian because I’m stupid and know one language, Jealous Soldat, use of the word Puppy/Pup as a petname, a lil Biting, Hair pulling, Spanking, Spitting, The Winter Soldier (he’s a warning), Creampie, He’s a little sweet at the end but there isn’t much aftercare— as always if I’ve missed anymore let me know!

Word Count: 1.2k (of porn with no plot)

You gaze flicks around the room, a little panic stricken but who wouldn’t be when a 6ft something assassin had seemingly disappeared from his cell.

The fear bubbling in your belly only triples when you face the long broken mirror that sat just above the sink, behind you his cerulean gaze was undeniable. His hands reach out, the cool metal one wrapping itself around the bottom of your face, muffling any protests, while the other gripped your hip with bruising fingers and pushed you forward till your pubis and upper thighs knocked against the sink.

Your hands fall on instinct to the cold metal as your fingers grip at the surface, when you flick your gaze up to the mirror you can see that what swims in his own orbs isn’t anger or the usual killer instinct, no— the Winter soldier looks at you with lust.

“красотка” (pretty) He whispers hoarsely against your neck, hot pants of air from his mouth coating your throat like paint. His teeth nip right at your pulse point before his warm tongue smooths over the mark.

When you jerk, his grip tightens, “don’t move” He stares at you pointedly through the mirror before both his hands retreat from your frame.

You vaguely register the soft sound of fabric hitting the cold floor before he swipes your own clothes from your body, the harsh air was harsh; it almost felt like dipping your body into a bath filled with ice.

He groans, loud and throaty as his eyes bore into your ass and panties. Despite the cool atmosphere of the cell you feel everywhere burning with a primal want. You wanted this, you had since the first time you worked with the Soldier. He smelled the way you slicked up at the sight of him in nothing but his briefs, blood dripping from his nose, a musky scent radiating from him that had you desperately soaked. He wanted this too, he needed the release and the best kind of toy was one that was willing.

You felt his fat tip press against your hole, pushing in and out softly over the thin lace before it slipped to stimulate your hard little nub. The strong grip on your hip was back, anchoring your feet in their exact spot.

“You need this?” He kissed sloppily up your spine, It sounded more like a statement than a question but you nodded all the same.

He worked quick after your confirmation. Your panties were pulled to the floor by their soaked gusset and two of his chubby metal fingers speared you, pulling a delightful sounded moan that the Soldier was desperate to hear more of.

They worked methodically, pushing in and curling out, your legs shook at every time the cool pads bumped over each pleasure filled rib.

Once he deemed you ready enough, his fingers slipped from your tight hole to jerk at his thick length, coating himself in your essence. He so desperately wanted to taste you but his cock was crying out for attention, he’d get his fill next time.

“F-fuck” you moaned loudly as he pushed in, all semblance of decency thrown out the window at the feeling of his fat cock stretching you, there was a burn from ill prep but with the size of him you weren’t sure there would be a way to prep. You were thankful that he let up for just a bit so your insides could mould to accommodate him.

When he started thrusting his pace was brutal, his meaty thighs slapping against your own, the sound mixing with the squelching push and pull of his cock along your fluttering folds. You’d thank his super soldier serum later for his constant pounding pace but right now you could think of nothing but him.

“Bucky!” you squealed as his cool digits flicked meticulously across your sensitive clit, your fingernails scraped mindlessly at the shiny plates of his forearm. He growled possessively at the slip of the name, his right hand fisting clumps of your hair to angle your head up to watch you both in the mirror.

“Does Bucky fuck you like this? Mm?” Jealousy dripped from his words as his metal hand smacked your rear hard before gripping the reddened flesh to cool the area.

You couldn’t think, you watched as your thighs jumped at each pound of his hips, the way your mouth had sat slack ever since he shoved his length into you, drool poured from your lips but you didn’t care— you couldn’t care— not with how cock drunk you were.

He smacked your ass again, this time when he gripped the flesh he pulled your cheek to the side, parting your ass before launching a fat glob of spit that ran from your tight little asshole to the spot where you two joined.

“I asked you a fucking question!” He pushed forward, teeth finding the lobe of your ear and biting down, the action pulling a squeaked moan from your swollen mouth.

“No-no he can’t, he can’t… please Soldier I’m so close” You wailed, one of your own hands travelling down to play with your neglected clit. The soft touch of your fingers had you jerking back to meet him.

“Mmm, Отчаянный щенок (desperate puppy)… you cum when I say you can” he was panting now, hips hammering into you at a slightly sloppier pace; It wouldn’t be long until he found his own release as well.

He moaned loudly, he had no control over his own body now, driven only by decades of primal unsatisfied lust. He thrust harder if it were possible, his wild blue eyes glaring at your fucked out face through the cracks in the mirror.

“You ready pup?” he asked between loud groans.

“Mmm, so ready солдат (soldier)” you slurred, your head hung loosely between your shoulders when his hand slipped down your spine, you’d lost all energy to hold it up ages ago— you’d been relying solely on the tight grip he had on your hair.

“Augh, shit” he growled almost animalistic through clenched teeth, his damp forehead settling on the silky skin stretched over your shoulder blades. He thrust deeply one last time.

“Cum angel…cum…cum on me” the words fell from his mouth along with slurs of broken Russian as he painted your walls white, his cock twitched against your vice grip as you silently screamed at your own release.

You hadn’t the faintest clue how long you two basked in the after glow of whatever you had just done, your mind only coming back to you when you felt his softening length pull from your aching heat. The feeling of your mixed juices slipping from your hole had you almost coming for a second time, especially when you felt his cold fingers drag up the mess it made in your thigh before he pushed it back into your core.

His arms lifted you up with him as he backed up until he sat on a rickety cot in the corner of the room. You had no idea if it would hold both your weights but it was the last thought to cross your mind when his thick arms wrapped around your waist, his flesh fingers rubbing soothing circles over your hip bone. He kissed you, tenderly, before flopping his head onto the almost flat pillow.

You were almost asleep when you heard the deep rumble of his voice behind you. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

-

I have an insatiable appetite for jealous Bucky.

I also desperately needed to write something for the world’s favourite Soldat because I would not sleep peacefully tonight thinking of this and not sharing.

Hope you enjoyed x