#he wants to watch every movement of your hand

[saintgoths]

ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ-ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ

ghost gives you a good throat-fucking.

pet names and ghost swearing a lot.

p!links

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You gagged, hands against the inner of his thighs as he continued to use your mouth, one hand had been entangled through the locks of your hair, your throat gently expanding every time he shoved his cock further down your throat.

Your eyes were wet, with tears due to how deep he went, how deep he wanted your spit to coat his width, Ghost’s tip stroking the back of your throat as he calmed you with warm words. “That’s it baby,” he said while rotating his hips, he grunted, the skin of his sac pressed against your lips.

You drooled, desperately sucking it back up, eager to please him. You felt the wetness between your legs become stickier, connecting the inner corner of your thighs against each other. You stretched your tongue, Ghost’s length rubbing against the texture of it, you looked at him, had saw how his face had been twisted, furrowed, so concentrated for his high.

“That it---oh fuc---that---” he stuttered, his chest heavy, each time it arose it came down deeper than the last, whenever he did that, that’s when you knew he was near, when his movements became less smooth, more rigid, stiff, and sharp.

You moaned. You forced your mouth to move to the top of it, to suck on it, eyes trained on him, teasing him to see how his face would twist more, thus his groans echoed louder, like bass through glass, now he had both hands against your head, curved at the back of it.

“Princess----oh---shit!” He cried out, burying his length inside of you again, the slickness of your mouth making it easier for him, loads of his cum trickling and glazing the width of your throat.

Shakily, he exhaled, pulling his dick out your mouth, watching how his cum and your saliva mixed with each other, a string from your tongue was connected to the base of his cock, the link broken when he shoved it into your mouth again, slowly, but rough, he pulled himself out again and continued the motion. “Good girl,” he praised. “Good fucking girl,” he whispered. “Good girl, swallow it for me.”

You listened, you swallowed his cum so he bent down to you, cupped your chin with two of his fingers before kissing your lips, embracing your mouth, tasting his own self, breathing you in, and once he pulled away, you looked at him with lapin eyes, silently begging him to order you around.

“Now turn around for me,” he said and so you did.

P!LINK 1

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ghost masterlist

[reiding-writing]

imma need some serious angst with cold!reader and spencer. Like spence gets MAJORLY injured and maybe cold!read even has to do like cpr on him, like the full angst kit and caboodle.

(love you queen 😘)

WATER WEIGHT — SPENCER REID!

spencer’s not allowed to die. not yet. you’re not ready.

spencer x cold!reader | 1.3k | angst | cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

WARNINGS | attempted drowning (by unsub of spencer), spencer’s heart stops momentarily, cpr

a/n — not the lip on lip action you guys wanted but close enough ig—

The air is sharp with the bite of winter, and the dull roar of the river accompanies every breath you take. Trees with skeletal branches loom overhead, casting long shadows in the dim light of late afternoon.

The case has been relentless—ten days of chasing a killer across state lines, culminating here, at the edge of nowhere. The unsub’s trail had gone cold this morning, but Spencer had insisted on canvassing the area near the river, claiming he’d seen something the rest of you missed.

You hadn’t agreed, but you’d let him go. He was Spencer Reid, after all. Always right, always insistent. But when the scream came over the comms—short, sharp, and unmistakably his—your heart froze in your chest.

Now you’re running. Sprinting, boots pounding against frozen earth as you follow the distant sounds of a struggle. Branches snag at your jacket, the cold air burns your lungs, but you don’t hesitate. You don’t even think.

When you burst into the clearing, the scene before you punches the air from your lungs. The unsub has Spencer pinned, his body half-submerged in the river, arms flailing weakly. Water churns as the unsub presses down with unrelenting force, trying to hold him under.

“Reid!” you scream, voice tearing through the air.

You raise your weapon, but the angle is wrong. You can’t risk hitting him. Instead, you lunge forward, but you’re too far away, and Spencer’s struggles are slowing. His hands, clawing desperately at the unsub’s arms, are slipping beneath the water.

“Spencer!”

The rest of the team crashes into the clearing behind you, shouts erupting. Morgan reaches the unsub first, tackling him away from Spencer with a force that sends both men sprawling. The unsub roars in fury, but Morgan lands a solid punch, silencing him.

You don’t care. Your focus is on Spencer, who floats face-down in the water, unmoving.

Time slows, the world narrowing to the icy river and the too-still figure within it. Without thinking, you plunge into the freezing water, the cold like knives against your skin. Your hands find Spencer, and you haul him out with a strength you didn’t know you had.

“Reid, come on,” you mutter, voice trembling as you lay him on the riverbank. His face is pale, lips tinged blue, and his chest is still.

You check for a pulse and feel nothing but your own rising terror. “No,” you whisper, the word a desperate plea. “No, no, come on.”

“Damn it, Spencer, don’t you dare do this to me,” you mutter through clenched teeth as you tear the bulletproof vest from his body, hands pressing into his sternum.

You glance up briefly, catching Morgan and Rossi watching with grim expressions. Emily is on the radio, calling for an ambulance, her voice tight with urgency.

You return to the task at hand, refusing to think about what it will mean if you can’t bring him back. Your breaths come in gasps, but you keep going. Time blurs, the world narrowing to the rise and fall of your hands against his chest.

Your arms ache, your knees dig into the rocky bottom of the bank, but you don’t stop. You can’t. You’ve seen death before, so many times, but not his. Never his.

“Come on, Spencer,” you say, your voice breaking. “Don’t do this. Not now.”

You press harder, your movements growing frantic. The tears stinging your eyes are a surprise, and you blink them away furiously.

“Reid!” you shout, slamming your hands down harder than you should, desperation overtaking reason. “Breathe!”

There’s a crack underneath the heel of you palm, but you keep going.

“One, two, three,” you count under your breath, forcing your voice to stay steady. “Come on, Spencer. Don’t you dare.”

You alternate between compressions and breaths, the movements mechanical, but your mind is chaos. Images flash unbidden—Spencer’s soft smile over morning coffee, the way his eyes light up when he’s unraveling a puzzle, the quiet moments when his presence is the only thing that grounds you.

“Don’t you die on me,” you mutter, voice cracking. “Not like this.”

Another round of compressions, another breath, and then—finally—a cough.

Spencer jerks beneath your hands, water spilling from his mouth as he gasps for air. Relief crashes into you with such force that you sag back on your heels, hands trembling.

Spencer blinks up at you, dazed and disoriented, his lips forming your name in a hoarse whisper.

“Reid,” you whisper, your voice shaky and thick with emotion. You reach out, your hands hovering uncertainly before they settle on his shoulders.

He blinks up at you, confusion knitting his brow. “Y-You—“

“Don’t,” you cut him off, your tone sharper than you intend. The flood of emotions crashing over you is too much—relief, anger, fear—all fighting for dominance. “Don’t you dare say anything right now.”

His gaze flickers to your face, and something in his expression shifts. He sees it then, the cracks in your cold exterior, the raw panic that lingers in your eyes.

“Do you have any idea what you just put me through?” you snap, your voice rising. Your hands tighten on his shoulders, shaking him gently as if to drive the point home. “You—You scared the hell out of me, Spencer!”

His lips part as if to respond, but you don’t give him the chance.

“You could’ve died,” you continue, the words tumbling out in a rush. “You did die! And if you ever—if you ever do something like that again, I swear—“

Your voice cracks, the anger giving way to a wave of helplessness that leaves you trembling. Without thinking, you pull him into a hug, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and holding him tight.

His body is cold and damp against yours, but you don’t care. The steady rise and fall of his chest against yours is the only thing that matters now.

“You’re an idiot,” you snap, voice trembling with anger and something dangerously close to tears. “Do you have any idea how scared I was?”

Your voice cracks again, and you bite down on the emotion threatening to spill over.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” you murmur against his shoulder, your voice a quiet, trembling whisper.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, then his arms come up slowly, hesitantly, as if he’s unsure whether you’ll shove him away at any moment. But when his hands settle on your back, the warmth of his touch feels grounding.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of the river.

You don’t respond. You just hold him tighter, unwilling to let go, as the rest of the team works to secure the unsub and call for medics.

The cold bites at your skin, and the weight of everything presses heavy on your chest, but none of it matters.

[prodbymaui]

Aftermath — 이민형.

under the moonlight, you're all I need tonight

PAIRING: mark lee x gn reader

GENRE: lover duties

WORD COUNT: 1.1K+ words

WARNINGS: idol!mark, oral (mark receiving)

SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend comes home exhausted, and your lover signal goes blaring. now you don't want anything other than to provide comfort and relief like he does to you.

A/N: just a little mark blurb, I wish someone is sucking him good every night especially when it's exceptionally tiring because he deserves it!

Everything had been hectic today. Mark’s schedule started at the ungodly hour of two in the morning, barely giving him time to wake up properly before rushing off to get his makeup done. From there, he was whisked straight to the KBS building for Music Bank’s pre-recording, which concluded around 5 AM. Instead of taking a breather, they moved immediately into filming content for a YouTube feature. No sooner had that wrapped than Mark found himself in a whirlwind jacket photoshoot for his new album. As if his day wasn’t packed enough, he went straight into the recording studio to touch up vocals for one of his tracks, only to head back to Music Bank again for the live broadcast. When that was finally over, his schedule dragged him back to the SM building, where he practiced with the Dreamies for a grueling two hours. And just when you thought his day might wind down, he ended it with a long meeting finalizing the details of his solo album.

By the time the door finally clicked open at midnight, your heart ached at the sight of Mark Lee shuffling in, his steps heavy and sluggish. His usually bright eyes were now nearly shut with sheer exhaustion as he wordlessly made his way to the bathroom. You watched him, your worry growing with each step he took. You didn’t even get the chance to remind him it wasn’t good to shower so soon after coming in. The words died on your lips as you were too caught up in observing the way his shoulders sagged under the weight of his day. It wasn’t news to you that your boyfriend had one of the busiest and most grueling schedules imaginable for an idol. Still, no matter how much you told yourself to expect it, you never quite got used to seeing him in this state—completely drained of the energy that usually lit up his every move.

Minutes later, when Mark finally emerged from the bathroom, he looked even wearier, if that was possible. His damp hair clung to his forehead, and his clothes were sloppily thrown on, signaling just how little energy he had left for anything. He didn’t say a word as he trudged toward the bed, collapsing onto it without a second thought. It was hard to tell whether he hadn’t noticed you sitting nearby or if he was simply too tired to acknowledge your presence. Either way, you didn’t take it to heart.

Softly, you crawled into bed beside him, leaning over to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. The gesture was simple but filled with all the love and comfort you wished you could give to soothe the ache of his day. You felt a quiet satisfaction when the corners of his lips curved upward in a small, unconscious smile.

“Tired?” You whisper against Mark’s ear, pressing yet another kiss.

Mark leans in to your touch, almost purring like a kitten getting pampered by his mom. But the tranquil comfort gets interrupted when your free hand slowly snakes its way down to the front of his sweatpants, resting on top of it just enough for Mark to feel your warmth through the fabric.

“Baby,” He mumbles, shuffling closer. “I can’t today, ‘m sorry.. So tired.”

The sigh coming out of his lips falls to deaf ear as your palm begins moving lightly along his hardening length. Mark hisses, hand threatening to grip the hem of your shirt. He relaxes a little eventually at your soft caresses on his scalp. Still, you could tell he’s in his thoughts again— by the way he’s unmoving in your hold and perform no reactions to your palm’s movements even in the slightest.

Therefore, you pull away from him. The fingers previously on his hair now sits gently on his cheeks.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do anything.”

With one last kiss on his lips, you slide downwards and meets the evident print of his cock. You trace it using your nose, grazing the pads of your lips if it catches, before tugging the bands to release his length. Using your spit as a makeshift lube, you watch how Mark’s body responds to your pumps of his cock, stimulating it all the while you move to lick along his balls. You nip lightly at his skin, just how he likes it. As expected, Mark exhales loudly, visibly more relaxed than earlier.

His whines pushes you to suck on one of his balls, fondling the other. Mark’s chest heaves up and down, your name slipping past his lips once or twice. The rim of your lips travels to his tip, sinking down to the base of his cock as you finally take him down your throat, providing Mark a pleasure he didn’t knew he needed at this moment.

“Fuck..” Mark sighs.

You bob your head, setting a steady pace that is not too much for you but is fast enough to bring Mark closer to euphoria. There’s no need of rushing things right now because none of this is about you. Tonight is all about Mark. Your ever hard-working boyfriend who shows nothing but competence, passion, and eagerness in everything he does. Your lovely boyfriend whose happiness is your happiness. It’s time to give back all the love he gave you in times you were in his position.

Mark’s arm covers his eyes as he pants, hips jerking involuntarily to thrust deeper in to your mouth. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, causing a choke from your end. It’s not a hinder to you as you recover immediately but Mark— God, Mark loves the feeling of you throat getting tighter as though it’s your pussy he’s fucking. He gasps, chasing the way it closes around him.

The more his high-pitched moans and desperate whines of your names escape his lips, the more your urge fuels inside you. You let your mouth moves on his length, letting him hit deeper and faster whereas your hand busies themselves traces the faint line of his abs and the other on his balls. You observe the way Mark’s face contorts at every movement from you until his fatigue finally melts as he releases down your throat, muttering sweet ‘thank you’s.

Licking the remaining drops of cum, you stretch a hand to the bedside and wipes down any saliva or cum left before returning the sweatpants back to where it is. After throwing the wet wipes to the trash can, you take a glance at Mark who’s already sound asleep before heading to brush your teeth and lays down beside him.

“You did so great today,” You peck his forehead, nose, and when your lips meet his, Mark wraps and arm around your waist— deepening the kiss before burying his face on your neck.

“Thank you, baby.” His hold gets a bit tighter. “Love you so much.”

[wondergirlsthings]

Love and Parenthood:A Quiet Morning with Charles Leclerc

Charles Leclerc X Pregnant!Reader

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the bedroom. You lay in bed, propped up on your pillows, watching as Charles moved around the room, his movements slow and deliberate. It had been a few months since you had your first child, and the joy of having a little one in your lives still felt surreal.

Charles was quietly preparing the nursery, humming a song under his breath as he adjusted the crib. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and there was a concentration on his face, a rare sight as he focused on every little detail. The sight of him being so gentle, so dedicated to making everything perfect, made your heart swell.

“Hey, love,” you said softly, your voice barely a whisper as you watched him, not wanting to break the peaceful moment.

Charles looked over his shoulder, his eyes lighting up as they met yours. “Good morning, my beautiful wife,” he said, walking over to sit beside you on the bed. He kissed your forehead gently before placing his hand on your growing belly, his fingers tenderly brushing over the small bump that now carried your second child.

“How’s my little one this morning?” he asked, his voice full of warmth and affection.

You smiled, your hand resting over his. “They’re doing well, I think. Seems like they’re excited to meet you.”

Charles chuckled softly, his eyes full of love as he gazed at you. “I can’t wait. The first one has already stolen my heart, and now we’re about to have another little one to love. I feel like the luckiest man in the world.”

His words filled your heart, and you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. The weight of the past few months, the sleepless nights, the excitement, and the overwhelming love you both felt for your growing family, all seemed to fade away in that one peaceful moment.

“I’m so glad we’re doing this together,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Charles held you close, his hand brushing through your hair. “There’s no one else I’d want to share this with, no one else I could imagine going through this journey with. You’re everything to me.”

For a moment, there was silence—just the two of you, lost in the warmth of each other’s presence. You could hear the soft sound of your baby's breath from the crib across the room, the peaceful rhythm of their sleep filling the air with a comforting sense of calm.

Charles shifted slightly, kissing your temple. “I think we’re ready for this next chapter, don’t you?”

You smiled up at him, feeling the gentle kick of your baby in response. “I think we’re more than ready.”

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

PUSH AND PULL

a/n: Hey! Sorry it's been a long time, but rn I have a lot of exams… While I finish them, here's something I've written before.

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: they fight but happy ending! long af

summary: In love, mess is inevitable—especially when you're as stubborn as Jude and you. A fight breaks out, and with it, comes chaos. But instead of facing it like adults, you both become kids again, unable to stop poking at each other and pushing each other's buttons. Whether it's a teasing remark, a too-close-for-comfort touch, or a pointed silence, you both dance around your feelings, caught in the tension of unspoken frustration. However, when the stubborness between you becomes unbearable, one kiss shatters the walls you’ve both carefully built.

The flat was a battlefield of silence. Not the peaceful kind, but the sharp-edged, suffocating kind, where every creak of the floorboards sounded like an accusation. Jude sat sprawled on the couch, legs wide, one hand gripping the remote. The TV played highlights from some old match, but you could tell from the way his eyes lingered on the screen without focus that he wasn’t watching.

You also sat on the couch, cross-legged, your laptop balanced on your thighs. With the television humming faintly in the background, you pretended to be engrossed in your laptop, fingers brushing aimlessly over the keys. Your hair fell over one shoulder, hiding the way you glanced at him every so often, wondering if he would break the silence. He did not. What he did, was catching you once, his dark eyes locking with yours for a brief moment, before you both looked away as if burned.

The tension in the room was suffocating, as if the air itself refused to move. Neither of you dared to take the first step to break the silence, which stretched between you like an invisible wall. The funniest part was that, in a house so vast, the two of you had ended up in the same room, sharing the same couch, barely a few inches apart. It was almost ridiculous. Tho, you didn’t react. Not outwardly, at least. Internally, you rolled your eyes so hard it hurt.

The fight from last night sat heavily between you. It was the kind of argument that left no room for winners, only wounds. You weren’t even sure how it started. He neither. A jab here, a poorly timed comment there, and before you knew it, the words turned sharp, biting into places neither of you wanted exposed. And now, all that was left was this: icy silence and the simmering frustration of two people who loved each other too much to let go but were too proud to make the first move.

Jude turned up the volume on the TV—just a notch higher than necessary. A small, petty move, but you caught it. You gritted your teeth and opened another tab on your laptop, pretending to type while your jaw clenched.

He leaned back, draping an arm casually across the back of the couch, his shirt hitching up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. A silver of his abs. You noticed—of course, you noticed—but you stubbornly refused to let your gaze linger. He was doing it on purpose, you were sure of it. The smug bastard.

To be fair, you weren’t entirely innocent either. You’d been wandering around the house all day without a bra, and you were well aware of how his eyes occasionally darted toward you before he quickly looked away. It wasn’t overt, nothing you could call him out on, but you could feel his awareness of you, just as you were hyper-aware of him.

In retaliation, you slammed your laptop shut, regardless of the tabs you had open. The noise echoed through the room, over the loud volume of the TV, and for a moment, Jude’s eyes met yours. There was a challenge in his gaze, a slight arch of his eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything. Then, as if nothing, you opened the device again.

After a while, your boyfriend, decided that now the couch was not as comfortable as it was minutes before and went to the kitchen. In there, Jude’s movements were deliberate, exaggerated in a way that felt almost taunting. He opened the fridge with more force than necessary, the door creaking loudly, and lingered there for what felt like forever before finally pulling out a bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap with unnecessary force, the crack of the seal piercing the silence.

“You could’ve done that quieter,” you muttered, not looking up from your screen.

He snorted, the sound low and derisive. “You’ve been so sensitive later.”

Your jaw tightened, but you didn’t respond. Instead, you tapped harder on your keyboard, the clatter of the keys a pointed counter to his earlier disruption. It was petty, childish even, but you couldn’t help yourself. If he was going to be difficult, you could be too. You knew he hated that, and when you turned back, you caught the briefest twitch of his lips, as if he was holding back a smirk.

The audacity of him almost made you snap again.

The minutes dragged on, and the uneasy rhythm of your coexistence continued. Jude eventually moved to the living room, sprawling across the other end of the couch. His long legs stretched out, nudging your thigh as he adjusted his position. It wasn’t accidental—you could tell by the faint smirk that tugged at his lips when you glared at him.

“Can you not?” you snapped, shifting slightly away from him. Honestly, even when you were angry, you still liked the warmth of his contact, but you knew that pulling away would bother him.

“What? I’m just sitting,” he said, his tone infuriatingly casual. But then he moved his leg again, deliberately pressing it against yours, skin against warm skin. This time, you didn’t move, choosing instead to act as if you didn’t notice at all.

“Sitting doesn’t involve invading someone else’s space.”

He didn’t respond, but the smirk on his face only deepened, as if he found your irritation amusing. Leaning further back into the couch, he made himself completely comfortable, clearly unbothered.

You turned your focus back to your laptop, though you weren’t sure why you bothered. It wasn’t like you were getting any actual work done.

When he grabbed the remote and started flipping through channels, the sound of the TV growing louder with each change, you shot him another glare. He didn’t acknowledge it, his gaze fixed on the screen as if he couldn’t feel the weight of your annoyance.

“Are you trying to be obnoxious, or does it just come naturally?” you asked, your voice sharp.

He finally turned to look at you, annoyed, raising an eyebrow. “You’re one to talk.”

The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, but neither of you said anything more. Instead, you both retreated into the silence, your mutual frustration simmering just below the surface.

By early afternoon, the passive-aggressive dance had reached new heights. You were in the kitchen, making yourself a coffee when he got up moments later, brushing past you as he headed to the sink. You could have moved, made it easier for him, but you didn’t. Neither did he. Your shoulders bumped, and you felt a spark of irritation—at him, at yourself, at the situation.

“Excuse me,” he said finally, his tone clipped but low, his breath brushing your temple as he reached over you for a glass. You stepped aside, not because you wanted to but because your pride wouldn’t let you linger there like some lovesick fool.

He filled the glass with water, the sound of it cascading against the sink somehow louder than necessary. His presence so close to you was suffocating, but you refused to move too far. He stood there for a moment with heavy eye contact after taking a sip, leaning against the counter like he was waiting for you to react.

You didn’t.

Instead, you grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and bit into it, appearing uninterested. You saw him glance at you from the corner of his eye, and for a fleeting second, you thought you saw amusement flicker across his face. It vanished as quickly as it appeared.

The rest of the afternoon passed in much the same way—sharp glances, clipped words, and small actions that seemed designed to provoke the other. When Jude left his empty glass on the coffee table instead of taking it to the sink, you picked it up with exaggerated care, your movements pointedly loud as you placed it in the dishwasher. When you adjusted the thermostat without asking, he changed it back moments later, the beep of the controls echoing like a challenge.

This repeated a few times.

Neither of you said what you really wanted to say. The words hovered in the air, unspoken but undeniable, like a ghost haunting the space between you.

As the night deepened, the tension between you became almost unbearable, thick and suffocating in the dimly lit room. You lay curled up on the bed, your fingers mindlessly scrolling through your phone, the glow of the screen illuminating your face. At the other end of the mattress, Jude sat hunched over his own device, the faint light from his screen carving sharp shadows across his features. His face was drawn tight, his brows furrowed in a way that made the lines of worry and frustration painfully obvious. You couldn’t help but wonder if you looked the same—tired, distant, and weighed down by the silence hanging between you.

You despised this chasm that had grown between you, the quiet hostility that lingered unspoken in the air. The silence wasn’t a comfortable one—it was filled with an unrelenting tension, an undercurrent of anger and hurt that felt alien and wrong. This wasn’t what you had envisioned. It wasn’t what you wanted. You loved him, even now, even through the haze of pain and frustration that churned within you. That love was still there, steady and unwavering, but it felt harder to reach, buried beneath the heavy layers of everything left unsaid.

Jude shifted slightly, his movement breaking the stillness. His fingers brushed against your arm, light as a whisper, a touch so brief it was almost nothing—but it wasn’t nothing. The contact jolted through you, surprising in its warmth and its ability to remind you of what once felt so natural. For a moment, you both froze. The touch lingered, suspended in time, carrying more weight than such a small gesture should. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, he pulled his hand away, retreating back to his side of the bed.

The silence returned, heavier than before.

The bed had grown colder as the hours ticked on, the tension between you and Jude acting like an invisible barrier, keeping you both firmly planted on opposite ends of the mattress. Sleep came to you first, though not peacefully—it was the restless kind, with the occasional shuffle and murmured sigh as your body sought the warmth that your pride kept you from asking for.

Jude stayed awake longer, his phone abandoned on the nightstand. His gaze flickered toward your sleeping form, the soft rise and fall of your shoulders pulling at something deep inside him. Even in sleep, there was a tightness to the set of your jaw, a lingering sign of the frustration that had consumed the day. He wanted to reach out, to smooth the lines away with his thumb, to press a kiss to the crown of your head like he always did when you argued. But the memory of your sharp words, and his own stubbornness, kept him still.

Eventually, exhaustion claimed him, and he drifted off into a restless slumber.

Next morning, the dim light of morning crept through the cracks in the blinds, casting soft stripes across the room. Jude stirred first, his body stiff and warm under the tangled sheets. He blinked, disoriented for a moment, until he became acutely aware of two things: the faint scent of your shampoo and the fact that his arm was draped securely around your waist.

His heart thudded once, heavy and slow, as the realization hit. Sometime during the night, you two had moved closer, the invisible wall of your argument forgotten in sleep. Your back was pressed against his chest, your legs loosely intertwined, his nose buried in the crown of your hair. It felt impossibly natural, like the way you used to fit before the fight. His hold on you was firm but careful, as if even his sleeping self knew you were something precious, something not to let go of.

Jude’s lips twitched into the faintest of smiles before his pride crept in, whispering to him that this was just a fluke. He wasn’t supposed to be happy about this, was he? You were still angry—still caught in the push and pull of your unresolved tension. But damn it, holding you like this felt good. Really good. It felt right. He allowed himself one more selfish second to savor the moment before you stirred.

Your soft murmur pulled him from his thoughts. You shifted slightly, pressing closer to his chest, your body melting into his as if seeking his warmth even in sleep. His heart ached, and a wave of affection so fierce it startled him coursed through his chest. He wanted to kiss you, to tell you he was sorry for the things he said, the things he didn’t say. But pride anchored him in place, so instead, he lay there, pretending he didn’t feel anything at all.

You woke to the steady rhythm of his breathing and the unmistakable weight of his arm around you. For a moment, still caught in the haze of sleep, you sighed contentedly, nestling closer to the warmth behind you. It felt safe, familiar, and so achingly right that it made your chest tighten.

But then, reality crashed in like a bucket of cold water. You froze, eyes flying open, as you realized exactly where you were—and who you were with. The fight, the tension, the stubborn refusal to bridge the gap between you—it all came rushing back, drowning out the soft thrum of happiness that lingered from waking in his arms.

Still, you didn’t move immediately. Instead, you let yourself linger for just a moment longer, feeling the solidness of him behind you, the warmth of his breath against your neck. Your heart ached with love, raw and unrelenting, a stark contrast to the frustration still simmering beneath the surface. How could you feel both so intensely at once?

You wanted to turn around, to meet his gaze and let the love you felt show on your face. But the pride that had fueled your argument held you still. You couldn’t be the first to crack—not after last night. So, you did what you always did: you pushed the feelings down, buried them under a layer of indifference, and carefully shifted away.

You swung your legs out of bed, avoiding Jude’s gaze as you reached for your robe. He remained lounging on his side, his dark eyes tracking your movements.

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep. It wasn’t quite warm, but it lacked the sharp edge from yesterday.

“Morning,” you replied, fastening the belt of your robe with deliberate nonchalance.

As you padded to the kitchen to start the coffee, Jude followed, his footsteps soft but noticeable. He leaned casually against the counter as you worked, his arms crossed over his chest. The silence between you hung heavy but was no longer suffocating—just thick with the remnants of stubborn pride.

“You’re not going to make me a cup too?” he asked, arching a brow when you filled a single mug. A smirk tugged at his lips.

Yep, that early in the morning.

You turned, lips also twitching. “Last I checked, you have two hands and know where the mugs are.”

That smirk persisted, and for the first time in what felt like forever, it wasn’t mocking—it was teasing. “Wow. So generous this morning.”

You shrugged, raising your mug to your lips. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

Jude shook his head, stepping forward to grab his own cup. You moved to lean against the counter opposite him, your mug cradled in both hands. He stood closer than necessary, the distance between you shrinking inch by inch as the minutes passed.

“You were hogging the blanket last night,” he stated suddenly, breaking the quiet.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me? I was hogging the blanket? You’re the human furnace who takes up three-quarters of the bed.”

He scoffed, setting his mug down. “Three-quarters? Dramatic much? You sleep like a starfish.”

A laugh escaped before you could stop it—a real, unguarded laugh that felt like a balm to the tension still clinging to the edges of the morning. Jude’s lips quirked into a grin, the kind that softened the sharp lines of his face and made your heart skip despite yourself. You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

The teasing was lighthearted, a refreshing shift from the icy tension of the previous day. But underneath it, the stubbornness remained—a silent promise that neither of you would be the first to openly admit you wanted peace.

Jude leaned against the counter, his coffee in hand, watching you with that maddening smirk. It wasn’t just his expression; it was the way he stood, as if the entire kitchen belonged to him, as if he were perfectly at ease and you were the one who had to figure out how to navigate the unspoken rules of this little game.

“You’re staring,” you pointed out, raising an eyebrow as you sipped your coffee calmly.

He shrugged, utterly unbothered. “Can you blame me? You’re kind of hard to miss.”

“Oh, please,” you retorted, setting your mug down and crossing your arms. “I’m not in the mood for your cheesy one-liners. They are not working.”

“It wasn’t a one-liner. It was an observation,” he replied smoothly, taking a step closer. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief as he added, “And besides, it’s not my fault you look cute when you’re grumpy.”

Your jaw tightened, but the corners of your lips betrayed you, twitching upward for just a moment before you caught yourself. “I know you miss me, but this is not the way of fixing things.”

“Miss you?” he shot back, leaning closer, his proximity making your heart stutter. “I woke up with you cuddling against me so…”

You rolled your eyes and turned away, feigning nonchalance as you began to tidy the already clean counter. “That’s not how... forget it,”

The morning passed in a steady rhythm of petty jabs and fleeting touches that neither of you could resist. When you walked past him to grab something from the pantry, his hand brushed lightly against your lower back—just enough to make your skin tingle. You shot him a look over your shoulder, but he was already looking elsewhere, as if the contact had been incidental. You knew better.

Later, as you stood by the sink rinsing your mug, Jude joined you, crowding your space under the guise of washing his hands. The sink was large enough for both of you, but he leaned in anyway, his arm brushing against yours, his warmth seeping into your skin.

“Do you mind?” you asked, tilting your head to glare at him.

“Not at all,” he replied with a grin, his voice laced with mock innocence.

You huffed, turning to move away, but his hand darted out to catch yours. The suddenness of it made you freeze, and for a moment, you just stared at each other, the air thickening between you. Jude’s thumb brushed against the back of your hand, a simple, unassuming touch that sent shivers racing up your arm.

But just as quickly, he released you, his smirk returning as if to mask the moment of vulnerability. “Don’t trip over your own stubbornness,” he said, stepping back.

You bristled, turning sharply to face him. “Me? Stubborn? That’s rich coming from you.”

The tension that had been simmering all morning suddenly flared, sharp and electric. That was what you both needed. “You’ve been impossible since yesterday,” he shot back, his voice rising just enough to match yours. “I’m not the one slamming laptops shut and stomping around like a child.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you took a step closer, your chest brushing against his as you jabbed a finger at his chest. “And I’m not the one deliberately trying to piss the other off!”

Jude tilted his head, his smirk fading into something darker, more serious. “Oh, you think I’m the one pushing buttons here? Newsflash, love—you’ve been just as bad.”

“Love?” you repeated, your voice dripping with incredulity. “Don’t you dare—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Jude’s hands moved, quick and decisive. One slid to the small of your back, the other cupped your ass firmly, and in one smooth motion, he pulled you against him and lifted you off the ground. A startled gasp escaped your lips, but it was swallowed almost immediately as his mouth crashed against yours.

Finally, you thought to yourself, something you would never say out-loud.

The kiss was hot and demanding, a clash of teeth and tongues that mirrored the intensity of your earlier fight. Jude’s lips moved against yours with a ferocity that left no room for argument, his grip on you possessive and unyielding. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your hands finding purchase in his neck as you pulled him closer.

For a moment, you forgot everything—the fight, the pride, the stubbornness. All that existed was the heat of his mouth on yours, the solidness of his body pressed against you, and the way his hands gripped you like he never wanted to let go. It was messy and desperate and so painfully raw that it left you breathless.

When he finally pulled back, his lips were red and swollen, his breathing uneven as he stared at you with a mix of frustration and something deeper, something softer. “You argue too much,” he said, his voice rough and low.

You blinked at him, your chest heaving as you tried to process what had just happened. “And you—”

“No no, shhh,” he interrupted, his mouth crashing against yours again. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, but no less intense. It was an apology, a truce, and a declaration all rolled into one.

When he pulled back this time, his hands lingered, one sliding up to cup your cheek while the other stayed firmly at your waist. His thumb brushed lightly across your skin, and the intensity in his gaze made your breath catch. His chest was heaving, just like yours, as if the kiss had stolen the air from both of you.

You stared at him, the heat of his touch grounding you even as your heart raced. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence thick with everything that had just been said without words.

Finally, you broke it, your voice soft but steady. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, meeting his gaze. “For… being difficult. For letting it drag on like this.”

Jude raised a brow, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and amusement. “Oh, so you can apologize,” he teased, though the smirk on his face softened at the edges.

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched despite yourself. “Juuude, don’t ruin the moment,” you warned, your tone light.

“I’m not,” he said, his voice gentler now. “Keep going, come on, I want to hear you say how wrong you were.”

Your laugh slipped out before you could stop it, and you swatted lightly at his chest. “Don’t push it.” But then your smile faded, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. “I really am sorry, baby.”

His teasing faded as he looked at you, the sincerity in your voice settling over him like a balm. “Yeah, well,” he began, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer. “I’m sorry too. For being a stubborn ass. And for… picking fights when I should’ve just talked to you.”

You tilted your head slightly, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. “We’re a real pair, aren’t we?”

His thumb traced circles against your hip, his touch impossibly warm. “We’re kind of great, though,” he whispered, his voice almost teasing. “When we’re not driving each other crazy.”

You let out another soft laugh, his breath warm against your lips. “You’re not wrong.”

The air between you shifted, the playfulness giving way to something deeper. Your lips hovered over his, your breaths mingling as the tension built again, electric and magnetic. You kissed him this time, slow but deliberate, pouring every ounce of affection and apology into it. His grip on your waist and ass tightened, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the way his heartbeat echoed yours, fast and unsteady.

When you finally broke apart, his lips were slightly swollen, his eyes dark and half-lidded as he gazed down at you. “You’re a tease, you know that?” he muttered, his voice husky.

You smirked, the heat still thrumming through your veins. “Only for you.”

“Lucky me,” he murmured, his tone both teasing and sincere. Then, without warning, he bent slightly, sliding his hands down to your thighs and hoisting you up effortlessly. A surprised laugh escaped you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you out of the kitchen.

“Jude—what are you doing?” you asked, though your tone betrayed more excitement than protest.

“Making up properly,” he replied, his voice low and rough in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “No more interruptions.”

You didn’t argue. Instead, you leaned into him, your hands threading through his hair as he kissed you again, his lips stealing every thought from your mind. Whatever tension had lingered between you melted away completely, leaving only warmth, laughter, and the undeniable pull of each other.

[xobunni0]

𝐡𝐢𝐬

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

౨ৎ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡.. shadow watched you from your window. it consumed him. he wished he could be closer, where he could feel the air you breathed and hear the soft sound of your voice. every glance made him want you even more.

- 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫!𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰, — 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲, 𝐰𝐜- 𝟏𝟎𝟕𝟔

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰

𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲

the hot water had done little to wash away the exhaustion of the day though your muscles ached a little less as you stepped out of the shower. the bathroom mirror was fogged and the air was still thick with steam you wrapped a towel loosely around yourself and made your way to your room. you glanced at the clock on the wall it was late.. too late to bother dressing for sleep. besides no one was here to care.

you let the towel fall to your feet, as you slipped into your favorite cream colored bra and pantie set that had cute lace details along the edges. the cool air of the room kissed your damp skin, stretching your arms above your head.

you left the blinds open, as you often did, the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm, inviting light across the room. the night was quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. you dropped onto the edge of your bed with a soft sigh, lying back against the pillows

but outside your window, he was there. Shadow was watching.

he told himself it was enough to simply watch, this was his own secret way of being near you. but tonight was different. seeing you like this bathed in soft light, the curve of your shoulders bare. his breath hitched as he watched you stretch, the faintest sheen of water still clinging to your skin his heart pounding harder than it ever had before. you had no idea, no idea how much he wanted to be inside that room, he fought the urge to press closer to the window Shadow’s obsession clawed at his chest. you were right there, so close yet so far, the glass barrier taunting him as his hands tightened into fists

the soft glow of your bedside lamp painted warm shadows on the walls as you reached for the small glass bottle of vanilla body oil sitting on your nightstand. the sweet, comforting scent filling the small space as you uncapped it

you poured a small amount into your palm, rubbing your hands together to warm the oil before smoothing it over your arms. the sensation was heavenly, the exhaustion from the day slowly fading as you worked the oil into your skin. it was a routine you enjoyed, something simple something just for you

your hands glided over your collarbone, down to the curve of your breasts, tracing over every curve with care. you leaned back slightly letting your head fall to one side as you massaged the tension from your neck. the soft gleam of the oil caught the light making your skin look almost glowing.

but you didn’t notice the figure outside, watching every movement. Shadow’s chest tightened as his eyes followed the painfully slow glide of your hands. he knew every inch of you from afar but seeing you like this… so intimate, so unaware made something dangerous burn inside him.

you worked the oil down to your legs, stretching one out as you rubbed it into your calves and thighs. a soft sigh escaped your lips

Shadow’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as he resisted the overwhelming urge to step forward to touch what he could only watch

i wish it was me, he thought. I wish it was me who could touch you like that, who could be the one to bring you this much comfort and bliss.

he told himself this was enough, just seeing you like this, his eyes tracing every curve of your body so close but untouchable

as you finished and stretched out on the bed, the sweet scent of vanilla now etched all over your body, Shadow remained in place. but in the back of his mind the thought lingered

how much longer could he keep himself on the other side of the glass?

you settled back against the soft pillows, your body finally relaxed. the faint scent of vanilla clung to the air, you pulled a light blanket over your legs but left your shoulders bare and chest out

your mind wandered as you scrolled through your phone, answering a few texts and mindlessly browsing. it was peaceful, quiet, everything you needed.

but outside, Shadow’s breath came unevenly misting in the cool night air as he watched the subtle movements of your body. the way you shifted against the pillows, the curve of your neck as you tilted your head each detail engraved itself into his mind

he wanted more. needed more.

his fingers brushed against the cold glass of your window and for a moment, he let himself imagine stepping inside. what would you do if you saw him now? would you scream? would you run? or would you let him in? the thought made his heart pound and he stepped back, trying to steady himself

your eyes flicked toward the window.

Shadow caught the movement and froze, his pulse loud in his ears. did you sense him? could you somehow know he was there? just on the other side of the thin glass? the idea excited and terrified him

you set your phone down and turned off the lamp, you curled onto your side letting yourself drift into sleep.

Shadow remained outside, his eyes never leaving the outline of your form beneath the blanket. he stayed where he was

he couldn’t risk it. not yet. so tonight, he decided he would wait. he took a deep breath and stepped back from the window. he needed to leave something behind a trace of himself something for you to find. a piece of him that would remind you of his presence even when he wasn’t there.

he pulled a small piece of paper and carefully wrote a few words, his handwriting clear but shaky. his fingers trembled as he held the pen.

“I enjoyed the show tonight. You’re quite beautiful, you know. Next time, maybe I can help you with the… application.”

he felt a rush of heat at the thought, his heart pounding in his chest. it wasn’t enough to just watch you. he wanted to be closer.

he slipped the note carefully through the small crack in the window where the curtains met the frame, just out of sight but close enough for you to find. then with a final glance in your direction he disappeared into the night his footsteps silent against the ground.

this idea has been stuck in my head 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️😵‍💫

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ⏦ﾟᢉ𐭩 - 𓊆ྀི𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𓊇ྀི

[bywons]

WHISPERS BEHIND VELVET ✷ AGENT!PJS

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬──── 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗃𝖺𝗒 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋

【 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 】 ｡ 𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍!𝗃𝖺𝗒 & 𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍!𝖿!𝗋 2332w 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗌𝗉𝗒 𝖺𝗎 ━━━━ 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 ❛ 愛 ❜

する ܃ something out of my comfort zone, tried my best not to go overboard with it ! i hope you guys will like it, then maybe we'll get more agent enha :3

reb𝑙ogs────𝑓eedbacks 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 ꪆৎ

“this is it. keep your head in the game, rookie.”

jay’s voice is calm, yet there’s an undercurrent of tension in his tone. the quiet command sends a shiver down your spine as you watch him adjust the cufflinks of his black tuxedo with meticulous precision. everything about jay screams control—his posture, his movements, even the way he holds himself. he’s been in situations like this countless times, while for you, this is your first real undercover mission. you feel the weight of it pressing down on your chest.

“i’ve got this,” you reply, though the words sound hollow even to your own ears.

jay glances at you with a sharp, knowing look, his lips curving into that signature smirk of his. “we’ll see.”

as you’re about to get yourself ready for the mission in your mind, jay is quick to break it.

he slides his hand around your waist, and pulls you in until you bump against his chest. blood rushes to your cheeks as you gasp, softly trying to push him off.

“don't,” jay states, his voice firm and strict. he looks at you from the corner of his eyes, his infamous smirk on his face, “we’re husband and wife for the night.”

you gulp, slowly nodding at your superior before stepping out of the car.

you swallow hard, nodding as you grip the fabric of his tuxedo tighter. “right.”

he adjusts the strap of your dress that had slipped slightly, his fingers brushing against your bare shoulder. “relax. and remember, follow my lead.”

his touch is firm but not overbearing, and you force yourself to relax, your hands smoothing over the fabric of your dress as you lean into him. “fine. but next time, give me a warning.”

jay leans closer, his breath brushing against your ear. “noted, darling.”

the valet opens the doors to the casino, and you step out into the night. the rush of cool air hits you as you survey the sprawling, glittering casino before you. the monte carlo casino is everything you’ve read about and more—opulent, filled with sharp-dressed gamblers, the rich scent of cologne mixing with the faint hum of excitement in the air. chandeliers hang overhead, casting soft golden light onto the marble floors.

you adjust your black satin dress, the coolness of the night air brushing your bare arms. the dress fits you perfectly, hugging every curve and leaving just enough to the imagination. the slit that runs up your leg is meant to be daring, and it certainly is, but it also makes you feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den with your heart pounding.

beside you, jay smooths out his tuxedo and pulls at his cufflinks one more time. “remember the plan,” he says softly, leaning in just enough for only you to hear.

you nod, fighting the nerves bubbling in your chest. “act, distract, gather intel. piece of cake.”

“stay alive, rookie,” he adds, his tone firm, though there’s an underlying edge to his words.

you want to argue, but you just nod, clenching your jaw. staying alive. right.

the casino's grand entrance swallows you both, and as you step inside, the atmosphere changes immediately. the murmur of conversations fills the space, punctuated by the clinking of glasses, laughter, and the sounds of roulette wheels spinning. every corner of the room is bathed in soft, warm light, reflecting off the gilded trim and luxurious décor. high-rollers sit at card tables, their laughter loud and smug, while others try their luck at the slot machines.

jay’s hand brushes the small of your back, and though it seems like a gesture of intimacy, you know it’s a signal. a reminder to stay alert. you walk side by side through the casino, your heels clicking sharply against the marble floors, your eyes scanning the room.

the target, marcus delacroix, sits at a corner table, his face familiar even from this distance. marcus is a man who exudes wealth and power, his tailored suit and diamond-studded rings just as much a part of his personality as his menacing grin. he’s notorious in the arms trade, and he’s known for his temper and ruthlessness.

“remember,” jay whispers, “you're the star of the show, y/n. let me sugar talk to him and you get the drive. one mistake and he escapes.”

you flash jay a tight smile, nodding slightly. you’re no rookie in this line of work, but the nerves are still there. you can’t help it. this mission is a big one.

the two of you approach the table. marcus looks up at the sound of your footsteps, his eyes lingering on you a moment too long. his gaze is predatory, a glint of recognition flickering in his eyes.

“mr. delacroix,” jay greets, extending a hand, his tone smooth but firm. “james daniels. and this is my wife, victoria.”

marcus doesn’t immediately take jay’s hand. Instead, his gaze flicks over to you again, his eyes narrowing as he takes in your appearance. “a pleasure to meet you both,” he says, his voice slow and deliberate. “i have to admit, james, your wife is even more captivating in person.”

“she’s not just captivating,” jay replies, his voice dripping with a light charm as he pulls you closer, “she’s my good luck charm.”

you can feel marcus’s eyes lingering on you, along with jays, as though trying to peel back the layers. you force a smile, leaning into jay slightly. “it’s a pleasure,” you say, your voice smooth.

marcus gestures to the chairs around the table. “please, have a seat. join the game. it’s not every day i have such fine company.”

you sit, playing your part flawlessly, and the game begins. your eyes flicker over the chips and cards, but your mind remains focused on marcus. every word he says is calculated, every movement purposeful. you catch glimpses of the guards stationed throughout the room, their eyes scanning the crowd. two near the bar. another by the exit. more near the staircase. you notice the subtle but deadly threat in their eyes.

through your earpiece, your handler’s voice crackles to life. “rookie, you’ve got fifteen minutes. delacroix’s laptop is in the suite upstairs. two guards posted outside. you need to move quickly.”

you glance at jay, who’s talking to marcus, his expression engaging but calculating. without missing a beat, he subtly glances over to you and gives the slightest nod.

“got it,” you whisper.

you excuse yourself from the table with a warm smile, smoothing down the front of your dress. “if you’ll excuse me, i need to freshen up,” you say lightly, your tone betraying none of the tension coursing through your body.

marcus’s gaze lingers on you, his smile sharp and untrusting. “don’t keep him waiting too long, mrs. daniels.”

you chuckle softly, leaning down to brush a kiss against jay’s cheek for added effect. “i never do.”

jay’s hand squeezes yours under the table briefly, a subtle signal to stay focused. you give him a slight nod and turn on your heel, heading toward the grand staircase that leads to the private suites.

the casino floor hums with energy, but the second floor is quieter, its opulence more understated. plush carpets line the halls, and abstract art decorates the walls. as you approach the suite at the end of the corridor, your pulse quickens. two guards stand at attention outside the door, their sharp eyes tracking your every move.

you don’t hesitate. confidence is your best weapon now. pulling out your compact mirror, you glance at your reflection, pretending to fix your lipstick as you stumble slightly on your heel.

“oh,” you mutter, looking up at the guards with an apologetic smile. “i’m sorry—new shoes. are the restrooms down this way?”

one of the guards hesitates, glancing at his partner. “no. they’re downstairs,” he says gruffly, jerking his chin toward the staircase.

“thank you!” you reply cheerfully, walking past them as if you’re heading back to the main floor.

once you’re out of their line of sight, you duck into a small alcove and pull out the lock-picking tool hidden in your clutch. with quick, practiced movements, you bypass the suite’s secondary door a few feet away from the guards.

“rookie, status?” jay’s voice crackles in your earpiece, his tone calm but firm.

“inside,” you whisper.

the suite is dimly lit, the faint scent of cigars lingering in the air. the room exudes wealth—dark wood furniture, leather armchairs, and a massive desk that holds marcus’s laptop. you make your way to it quickly, plugging in the usb drive and initiating the data transfer.

as the progress bar creeps forward, you hear muffled voices outside.

“rookie, you’ve got two minutes,” jay’s voice warns, a hint of urgency slipping through his usual calm.

“almost done,” you mutter, your eyes darting between the screen and the door.

just as the transfer completes, the door bursts open, and one of the guards storms in, his gun already drawn.

“step away from the desk,” he growls.

your heart pounds, but you force yourself to stay calm. you raise your hands slowly, stepping back as your mind races for a plan.

before the guard can act, a muffled shot rings out, and he crumples to the ground.

you turn to see jay in the doorway, his gun raised, the suppressor still smoking.

“cutting it close, aren’t you?” you quip, your voice shaky but light.

jay steps into the room, his eyes scanning it quickly before turning to you. “grab the drive. we need to move.”

you snatch the usb drive from the laptop and follow jay into the hallway. more footsteps echo from the direction of the staircase, and jay’s jaw tightens.

“run,” he orders, grabbing your hand and pulling you forward.

you sprint down the hallway, your heels pounding against the carpet as adrenaline courses through your veins. the echo of heavy boots behind you grows louder, and you chance a glance over your shoulder.

jay, a step behind you, fires off two precise shots over your shoulder. a guard grunts and falls, but another rounds the corner almost immediately, shouting for backup.

chaos soon ensues in the casino, causing screams and shouts from the rich guests, evacuating the casino soon enough.

“left!” jay barks, and you veer sharply, skidding slightly on the polished floor as you turn the corner.

a guard steps into your path, raising his weapon, but jay is faster. he shoves you behind him, lunging at the man with brutal efficiency. one hand grips the guard’s wrist, twisting the gun free, while the other slams into his jaw with enough force to send him sprawling.

“keep going!” jay snaps, shoving the gun into his pocket as he pushes you forward.

you run, the sound of your own breath loud in your ears. the grand staircase comes into view, but two more guards block the way.

“stay behind me,” jay says, his voice low and commanding.

you press yourself against the wall as jay moves. one guard charges at him, but jay sidesteps smoothly, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him into the marble railing. the second guard draws a knife, slashing at jay, but he deflects the blow with his forearm and counters with a sharp kick to the man’s knee.

the guard stumbles, and jay finishes him with a swift punch to the temple.

“downstairs. now,” jay says, grabbing your hand again and pulling you down the staircase.

the casino floor is chaotic, the commotion from upstairs drawing attention from the guests and staff. you weave through the crowd, jay keeping a firm grip on your hand as you head toward the exit.

but marcus himself steps into your path, his gun trained on jay.

“going somewhere?” marcus sneers, his expression cold and calculating.

jay doesn’t hesitate. he lunges forward, grabbing marcus’s wrist and twisting it sharply. the gun clatters to the floor as jay delivers a brutal punch to marcus’s jaw, sending him sprawling.

“move,” jay growls, steering you toward the exit as more guards converge on the scene.

the two of you burst into the cool night air, your chest heaving as you stumble to a stop in the shadow of the casino. before the guards or any of marcus's men can grab you both, jay pulls you into a black limo which drives off instantly.

“you alright?” jay asks, his dark eyes scanning you for injuries.

“yeah,” you reply breathlessly.

jay leans closer, his hand cupping your face as he studies you. then, without warning, his lips crash against yours.

the kiss is fierce, raw, a collision of adrenaline and relief. his hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips move with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

you melt into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as the chaos of the mission fades away. the heat of his body against yours grounds you, his presence overwhelming in the best way. you pull him closer by his collars, and he smirks into the kiss.

jay doesn't care there's a driver inside the car too, at this moment he just cares how your lips move against his, as he practically pulls you into his lap.

his lips travel from your lips to your jaws to your neck and then back at your lips, his hands traveling everywhere.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“you did good tonight,” jay murmurs, his voice low and rough.

“so did you,” you reply, your heart still racing.

jay smirks, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “next time, don’t make me work so hard to save you.”

“next time, maybe you let me save you,” you tease, your tone light despite the lingering adrenaline.

jay chuckles softly, wrapping an arm around your waist. “come on. we will do better next time.”

together, you disappear into the night, with jays lips back on yours.

© BYWONS, 2025 / do not copy or repost without permission . div ctto

taglist────open tags in the reblogs ! network tag. @/k-labels @k-films @k-nets CLICK ME

[animamii]

Late Night Rides | Satoru Gojo smut

Gojo just looks so yummy during his business call, all manspread out. His thigh looks like the perfect seat.

warnings; smut, duh.

︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡

Waking up you feel hot, the warmth of the summer night enveloping you as you wear nothing but Gojo's old shirt and a pair of cotton panties. Arm reaching out to his side of the bed, you feel emptiness. It wasn't unusual. Satoru never slept much anyway. So you pitter patter to where he usually is if he isn't awake in bed. His office door is open, the tungsten-colored light shining into the dark hallway. Murmurs could be heard, his raspy voice speaking.

Leaning your tired head against the doorframe, you watch Satoru. Sitting on the couch of his office, shirtless with his hair disheveled, gray sweat shorts on as he manspreads. Fucking delectable. He notices you, your sweetly tired face resting on the doorframe as you look at him.

"Business call," he mouths to you with his phone to his ear. Softly nodding, you continue to watch him in his element. Gojo continues his phone call, bouncing his leg as he lets out a courteous chuckle to the person he's on the phone with. Probably another business trip. You can't help but bite your lip at how good he looks. Biting down on your lip, you feel your thighs squeeze together instinctively. Oh no, not that familiar warmth spreading through your core.

Satoru notices right away. The way your hand grips and tugs at the oversized shirt you wear. The way your thighs press together for some sort of friction. A wolfish grin forms on his face as he looks up at you. Continuing his call, he nods imperceptibly at his lap. Eyes widening, you answer his beck and call, softly stepping over to him. You just stand there, all doe eyed as you stare at him.

He pats his lap, giving you a nod as a go ahead to sit on his lap. Slowly you straddle his thigh, the big shirt you wear bunching up. Staying silent, you watch Gojo continue his business call. Satoru’s warmth seeps through the fabric of your panties, and you can’t help the small hitch in your breath as you shift slightly, seeking a comfortable position—or perhaps something more.

His hand, previously resting casually on the couch, moves to settle firmly on your waist, a silent reminder that he’s always in control, even mid-conversation. His thumb lazily strokes your side, sending shivers up your spine despite the summer heat. His attention, however, remains fixed on the call, voice smooth and confident as he discusses whatever business matter has him up at this hour.

You can’t help but be drawn to him—how his muscles flex subtly with every movement, how the low rumble of his chuckle vibrates through his chest, and how he effortlessly commands the situation on the other end of the line. It’s intoxicating, being so close yet unable to have all of his focus. The tease of it all only stirs that warmth within you.

Gojo’s eyes flicker to you, and the smirk tugging at his lips deepens as if he can feel every ounce of your neediness. His free hand drifts lower, fingers tracing the hem of his shirt that’s swallowed your frame, before lightly gripping your thigh. He applies the faintest pressure, urging you to move just slightly—enough to feel the friction against his toned leg.

Your breath catches again, and his gaze sharpens, challenging you. His actions are deliberate but restrained, forcing you to follow his unspoken lead while he maintains the image of calm professionalism for whoever is on the other end of the line. The tension is unbearable, and yet, it’s exactly where Satoru wants you: at his mercy, all while he has his focus elsewhere.

You give him those puppy dog eyes, all big and wide, pleading. They dart from where your core sits on his bare thigh up to his smug face, silently asking "Can I?" Giving you a toothy grin, he gives you an approving nod, go for it. He doesn't have to tell you twice for you to start moving. Slowly you start to grind your clothed core against his thigh, needing some type of friction.

"Outside of Japan? To Thailand?" Satoru speaks into the phone, although his icy blue eyes are glued to the way you roll your hips. "You know my rates go up for something like that, right?" His hands glide up your side, lifting the large shirt so he could get a clear view of your cute cotton panties gliding against his thigh. Lifting your shirt even higher, he sets it over your chest, giving him a perfect view of your perky tits and cute tummy. Gojo's eyes meet yours giving you a look as to say, 'might as well take it off'. Which you do, discarding his large shirt as quick as you can.

Dainty hands roam his bare chest, his abs tensing under your featherlight touch. With each roll of your hips, your clit rubs against his thigh in just the right way, causing your cotton panties to get soaked through with arousal. Gojo's eyes flicker down to look at your panties get increasingly damp, the faint outline of your intimate folds becoming more visible through the thin fabric.

Satoru suddenly tugs at your panties, pulling them away from your sticky folds for a second then letting the damp fabric snap back against your slit, eliciting a barely audible gasp from you. Eyes widening, you softly smack him in retaliation. Gojo smirks at your reaction, enjoying the mini scuffle. Slowly he starts to trace the damp outline of your slit through the cotton fabric. Thumb pressing gently against your cloth-covered clit.

"Now let's talk about our expansion into Europe..." The phone call continues as his thumb rubs curt circles onto your clit, feeling the cotton fabric getting stickier and stickier. Letting out little uh huh's and agreeing murmurs, Satoru slides your panties to the side, fingers barely brushing against your slit. Desperate for more friction, you try to grind against his fingers. Seeing that needy look on your face, Satoru obliges, sliding his fingers against your sopping wet folds.

Lifting them up to his face, he inspects the glistening slick with a smile. Looking you in your lust drunk eyes, he brings the fingers to his mouth and cleans your arousal right off of his digits. As Gojo finishes tasting your arousal, he turns his attention back to his call, but his touch never leaves you. His fingers resume their exploration, now bare and gliding smoothly along your slick folds. You whimper softly, trying to keep quiet as you continue to rock against him, chasing the friction and pressure you need.

Gojo's free hand finds its way to your breast, cupping it gently before giving your nipple a teasing tweak. Your back arches into his touch, silently begging for more. He chuckles lowly into the phone, his actions not going unnoticed by the person on the other end. "I apologize," he says, not sounding sorry at all, "Please, continue."

His fingers find your entrance, pressing just slightly as if testing your readiness. You let out a shaky breath, nodding eagerly. The tip of his index finger slips inside, slowly and carefully. As he talks about logistics and contracts, he begins to thrust that finger in and out, his knuckle grazing your inner walls with each stroke. "Yes... we'll make sure to keep the timeframe reasonable."

Gojo removes his fingers, putting them up to your plump lips. 'Suck,' he mouths, forcing his digits between your lips. Your tongue licks the pads of his fingers before you fully take them in your mouth, sucking the juices off with a smile. Satoru's teeth tug at his lip, and he could feel himself tenting under his shorts. His hand goes back to where your waist and hips meet, gripping it as he drags you back and forth along his thigh. The friction hits different now that your panties are pulled to the side, your clit now flush against his warm thigh. The motion is fast and a little rough, your clit getting puffy from the speedy stimulation. You bite your lip so hard to suppress your moans, so hard that you think you're going to draw blood. Gojo's thigh gets slick and stained with the shiny translucent honey that drips from your cunt. The whole scene is lewd and turning him the fuck on.

It gets too much for his aching cock; he needs to be inside of you now. Like right now. Putting the phone between his shoulder and ear, he grabs your waist with both hands, lifting you up off of his leg and softly tossing you onto the couch. Back hitting the cushions, you look up at him as he drops his shorts, pulling his briefs down just enough to pull his dick out and pump it over you a few times.

"Yeah, sounds good. I can definitely do that," he agrees to something half mindedly, more focused on the way your pussy is all nice and wet for him. Folding you in half, he presses your knees to your chest, giving you the perfect view of your cunt. Taking his two fingers, he pumps them in and out, in and out. Then he finally does it.

Slowly he slips into you, biting his lip to hold back his moan as the person on the other end talks his ear off. A soft moan escapes your lips, causing both you and Satoru to widen your eyes. Your hands fly over your mouth as Satoru gives you a smile, shaking his head. His pace is languid, slow and comfortable so he's able to speak and not stutter or slip up and groan. Although the agonizing pace has your fluttering around his cock.

"Perfect. It's settled then. Talk to you soon," you can see his eyes darken, he can finally fuck you relentlessly without having to be silent. The phone hangs up, and he tosses it aside with a throaty chuckle. "Now I can finally break you off."

[mofongomuncher]

𝘼𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨 [!𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏¡]

(Ekko X Reader)

❥ cast : ! Ekko and Reader ¡

The brothel was dimly lit today, the pungent scent of incense and lust hung heavily in the air. The soft whispers of conversations and secrets echoed through the corridors.

As a dancer known for your attraction and intentions, you've seen your share of shady characters seeking refuge from the harsh realities.

Tonight however, was so much more different.

Ekko.

The leader of the firelights, decided to stroll into the brothel with his dark green jacket—its distinct graffits swayed with each step, and his owl like mask made him stick out against the rest of the people around the building.

He was here looking for answers about Silco's people, specifically a woman who once worked here. The only person that actually knew who this woman was, is you.

As he approaches, you feel the heat of his gaze and the weight of his reputation. His sharp, owl-like eyes lock onto yours with unsettling intensity.

You knew he was the type to take what he wanted without hesitation. Babette had warned you about him and the Firelights not long ago.

But tonight... tonight, things would be different.

With a gesture, you lead him to a private room.

"Tell me about her..." Ekko says, his voice rough as he carefully removed his mask, and sat down in front of you. His white locs and hourglass face paint were now visible. The flickering candlelights casted his features, making the intensity of his gaze almost tangible.

You, in your revealing lingerie, feel a thrill of excitement as you danced slowly in front of him. Your movements are fluid, your hips swaying to an unheard melody as you speak, your eyes never leaving his.

You dance closer to him, your fingertips tracing the line of your collarbone as you speak of her, your voice dropping to a whisper. "Her name was Lila....Silco took her in, trained her, used her for his... needs." Your eyes flicker to the side, a hint of sadness in them."she was so clever, always looking answers." Ekko's eyes narrow, his interest piqued. He leans forward slightly.

"What makes you think she'd be of any use to me?" he asks, his voice sharper then ever.  You dip down, your chest brushing against his knee, making him suck in a sharp breath. "Because she knew his secrets..." you murmur, your breath warm against his skin. "And she knew when to keep them...and when to share them." Your hand slides up his thigh. "Anddd...you asked me about her, she must be some good use, hm?" You teased him.

You can feel the tension spiraling within him.

He's a man of the streets, he was used to the cut and thrust of battles, but this... this is different.

Way different...

You move to straddle his lap. He looks up at you, his big hazelnut brown eyes searching yours for a moment as if trying to determine if this is just a trick.

You grab his gloved hands and place them on your hips—forcing him to pull you closer to him.

You lean down, your lips brushing against his ear. "Tell me what you want Ekko.." you whisper, your voice seductive and demanding.

"I want... I need to know." he gasps. "What did she tell you?" His desperation is tangible, his eyes never leaving yours as he speaks. You lean back, a knowing smile playing on your lips. "Everything..." you promise, your voice sweet like honey. "But firsttt, let's make a deal...just you and me." You trace a finger along the line of his sharp jaw, watching as he nods nervously, his breath coming in ragged bursts. He knew exactly what kind of deal you were trying to offer him.

Ekko had never been in a situation like this before. He'd always been too focused on the Firelights, on the constant grind of surviving in Zaun, on fixing what was broken around him. Intimacy had never been something he made time for. His life was chaos.

Now, here he was, sitting at the brothel, with you on his lap, your body close to his in a way that made his heart race. The soft material of your lingerie pressed against him, and he could feel every inch of you. It was all too much, too fast, and yet, it was impossible to ignore the heat flooding his chest.

He hadn't asked for this, hadn't come here for this kind of attention, but now that it was happening, he was finding it hard to pull away. His hands rested lightly on your hips, the pressure of his touch not quite sure of itself, but needing to stay there all the same. His mind was a jumble of thoughts, conflicting desires and responsibilities, but his body was reacting against all of it.

This wasn't a relationship. It wasn't anything deep, he knew that. Yet, there was something in the way your body pressed against his, something in the way the heat built between you, that made him feel a way he couldn't describe. A part of him felt like he shouldn't be here, that he should be focused on something else, find answers elsewhere—but another part of him just... didn't want to stop.

It was messy, it was chaotic, and it wasn't lovely but it was real.

The air in the room seems to thicken as you get off his lap—moving in front of him. Carefully you remove his overalls down to his boots, before dropping to your knees.

As you free his cock from his boxers, you can't help but admire it—thick and long, slightly pulsating, it was like a testament to his masculinity.

Looking up at him through your hooded eyes, you lean in and take him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before you take him deeper. Ekko's eyes widen in surprise, he throws his head back, his hand reaching for his mouth to cover his groans.

"H-Holy—Fuck" he hisses.

You couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at his reaction.

You suck harder, feeling him pulse against your tongue, his thighs tense beneath your palms. He tastes so sweet and a tad bit bitter, a mix that only fuels your own desire.

Ekko's eyes are squeezed shut now, his teeth gritted as he fights to keep his composure. But you can feel the storm building within him, the tension in his body coiling tighter with each passing moment. His breaths become more erratic, and his hips start to buck. You moan around his length, the vibration sending a shiver down his spine. His hand reaches for the armrest of the chair to steady himself.

"Tell—tell me" he grunts, his voice now strained. "What...What did Lila tell you?"

You pull back, your lips shiny with his precum, and give him a soft smile. "well....only that she had something valuable." you say, your voice a breathy purr. "Information that could help bring him down." Ekko's eyes flash with determination, and he nods, urging you to continue.

"But she didn't tell me what it was." you add, tracing your fingers along his thigh. "Not until I made her feel good..." You stand up, your legs shaky from the excitement.

"And—And did you?" he asks, his voice quivering. "Make...her feel good?" You nod, your chest heaving with anticipation. "Of course I did," you reply, reaching back to untie your lingerie, letting it fall to the floor. Your bare skin glows in the candlelight. "And now.." you say, turning to face him, "it's your turn. Hm?"

Ekko's eyes froze to you, observing your naked body, lingering on the wetness between your thighs. You make his way to him, removing the rest of his clothing, revealing his muscular form. You couldn't help but caresses his beautifully toned chest.

"Tell me..." he says, his voice low and slightly nervous, "everything she said."

You bite your bottom lip, feeling a thrill of power as you hold the key to Ekko's quest. "She spoke of a hidden book..." you murmur, stepping even closer to him, your breasts now brushing his chest. "A list of names, areas...transactions with some of the pilties..." Ekko's eyes widen at the implication, and you can feel his cock twitch against your stomach. "But she never told me where it was.." you add, running your fingertips down his abs, tracing the lines of them.

"Only that it would bring him to his knees."

He sighed in frustration, but the desire in his eyes hadn't weakened. "Then what good are you to me?" he demands, but there's a hint of desperation in his voice.

You lean in, your breath hot against his ear. "Perhaps I can reveal more.." you offer, your hands still tracing his abs.

"If you're willing to make another deal."

Ekko's hand snaps up, gripping your wrist. "You drive a hard bargain, hm?" he says, releasing your wrist away from him. "What do you want?"

You look up at him "Protection..." you whisper. "For her and for me. We're both basically targets if he finds I told you..." Ekko's gaze softens slightly as he nods. "If I find it, you'll have the deal" he promises.

"Really?" You look up at him surprised. He nodded as hand drops to your small back.

For a second you both stared at eachother, that was until the space between you evaporated as you crush your mouth into his, your tongue delving deep into his mouth, You moan into the kiss, enjoying every second. His hands roam your body, exploring every curve, leaving a trail of fire. He lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the nearby bed.

Ekko lowers you onto the velvet sheets, his eyes never leaving yours as he positions himself between your thighs. He kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, making you gasp.

"Tell me how she felt when she talked about this book." he murmurs softly, his breath hot against your ear. You bite your lip, remembering the desperation in Lila's eyes. "Scared..." you admit.

He nods, understanding flickering in his gaze.  your hand slid down to grip his cock, guiding it to your entrance. His expression tightens, a mix of lust and fear. You position the head of his cock at your opening.

Ekko couldn't help himself anymore, He tried so hard to keep calm, telling himself that he shouldn't do this, he shouldn't feel so aroused by you—that it wasn't right.

But he couldn't, he couldn't control his lust for you.

With one powerful thrust, he enters you. Your back arching off the bed as he fills you completely. His grip on your hips is firm, his movements deep and rhythmic. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, making it hard to focus on anything but the feeling of him inside you.

"Oh F-Fuck." you breathe, your nails digging into his back as he thrusts into you. "Lila... she—she was terrified, but she had this... this fire in her eyes when she talked about the book. She knew all of his secrets.." Ekko's eyes darken, his strokes becoming more urgent as he hears the desperation in your voice. He leans down, capturing your mouth in a kiss.

You break the kiss, panting heavily. "She never told me where it was hidden. Only that it was somewhere in his office." Ekko's grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts becoming more deliberate, as if he's trying to claim his victory over Silco through your body.

"I—I need to know more Y/N." he grunts, his eyes burning into yours.

"All I know is that—that it's well-guarded" you murmur, your voice a soft whine of pleasure as he hits just the right spot. "But she said there's a time when he's...distracted."

Ekko's strokes slow, his eyes narrowing. "Distracted?" he repeats, his voice a low growl. You nod, your body trembling beneath his. "Whe-When ever the Last Drop has those party nights.... His guards are always...shimmered up and distracted." You can feel his cock pulse within you at the mention of the last drop, a place he knew too good and well. "That's when we can get it.." he says, his voice filled with the promise of victory.

He leans back, the sound of skin slapping against skin was starting to turn him on. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper.

"The Last Drop.." Ekko repeats, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "We'll get that book and bring him down." He leans down to look at me. You gasp, your body tightening around him, your walls pulsing. "Then.." he murmurs.

"we'll see about that deal."

You tighten your legs around him, urging him closer, the pressure building within you. "Pleasee..." you whisper, your voice thick with desire. "I'm gonna—" Ekko grins, understanding exactly what you meant. He doubles his efforts, hitting that perfect spot with each stroke.

Your breaths come in short pants, your eyes squeezed shut as you feel yourself teetering on the edge. You could feel the room spinning, the candlelights playing tricks on the walls as you feel yourself climbing higher and higher. "F-Fuck Ekko!" you cry out, your body arching as the orgasm hits, wave after wave of ecstasy rolling through you.

With a roar, he releases his own climax, filling you completely as your bodies spasm together in a symphony of pleasure.

For a moment, you lay there, panting, your heart racing as you come down from the high. Ekko's head is buried in the crook of your neck, his breaths hot and erratic against your skin. You run your fingers through his slightly dampened undercut.

"Thank you..." he murmurs, his voice rough with satisfaction. "For what?" you ask, your own voice a little shaky.

He lifts his head to look at you, his brown eyes filled with something that looks suspiciously like affection. "For your help..." he says, his thumb stroking your cheek. "And for... that." You can't help but blush, the heat of his gaze making you feel vulnerable. "It was nothing..." you murmur, trying to play it cool. But the way his eyes travel down your body, lingering on your heaving chest, tells you that he doesn't believe you.

Ekko rolls off you, leaving you to lay there, feeling empty and a little lost. You watch as he stands up and starts to gather his clothes. He pulls his clothes and jacket on, the graffiti on the hem fluttering as he moves. You sit up and watch him, pulling the sheets around your naked body.

Ekko's gaze turns to you—his eyes softens for a moment. He made his way to your sad little figure lying on the bed—his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. "when I get this book, we can talk about that freedom you're after." His thumb traces your bottom lip, and you bite back a whimper.

He pressed his lips against yours before making his way out, leaving you behind,your heart fluttering for the very first time as you hear his footsteps faint away.

Check out my Ekko one shots on Wattpad for more stories!! :3

[thebigbadbatswife]

The Mask... Take It Off...

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary - You ask Ghost to take the mask off.

Warnings - 18+ ONLY! Smut. Vaginal sex. Rough Sex. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Blindfold.

A/N - An old one shot I found in my backlog. Enjoy 💜

Word Count - 1.4k

The small room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, skin slapping against skin and soft moans. Each roll of your hips brings you closer and closer until you are teetering on the edge of what truly feels like insanity. Your body is hot. Pleasure is burning through every nerve in your body while sweat drips and runs down your skin; the taste of salt filling your mouth. 

Ghost has been working you all night. Bringing you toward the edge over and over again, but never actually letting you reach it. You are starting to get the feeling that he does it because he likes to torture you.

His back is against the wall. While his hands rest on your thighs. Occasionally they move from their place to slap your ass or roughly play with one of your tits. 

Those deep brown eyes of his, framed by equally dark eyelashes, watch you intensely. It’s the only part of his face that you can see. It’s the only part of his face that you have ever seen. Except maybe Soap. He’s always wearing a some sort of balaclava or skull mask. It drives you mad. All you want is to feel his lips and tongue on your skin. His lips wrapped around one of your nipples or his tongue lapping at your drooling pussy. 

With how hot and bothered you are you have no freaking clue how he’s even still able to wear the damn thing. If it was you underneath that balaclava you would feel like you’re suffocating. 

Out of breath, with your legs aching, you slow your movements down, but don’t stop completely. You lean forward and press your forehead against how, doing your best to ignore how much you hate the feeling of the material against your sweat soaked skin. Your hands come to rest on the tops of his pecks.

“Ghost?” 

“Yeah, lovie?” he asks. His voice sounds strained. It comes as no surprise to you considering how hard he is inside of you. His cock twitching each time your walls flutter around him. He’s got to be as close to his own climax as you are to your own. 

You hesitate for a moment before taking a deep breath and asking the question you always ask.

“The mask? Take it off? For me?” 

You don’t expect anything to come from your asking. It never had done before. He usually flips you onto your front and fucks you into the mattress until you’re shaking from the after effects of your own orgasm and dripping with his. Before he unceremoniously pulls out from you and leaves you to deal with the mess all alone. Usually avoiding you for weeks afterwards until the next time he needs a release.

He looks at you for a moment, completely silent. There’s something in his eyes that you don’t quite recognise. It’s a long moment. One where the only things you can hear is your heart beat thumping in your ears and the squelching noise that your cunt and his cock make together sounds even louder than it did a few minutes ago.

He’s never looked at you like that before, you quickly realise. There’s no time for you to question it or figure out what that look means as he reaches for the bedside cabinet. Where his knife is laying. Ghost uses it to slice a strip of cloth out of the bedsheet and sets it aside. He brings the piece of scrap cloth up to your eyes and covers them, tying it behind your head. 

You can’t see shit now, but you don’t question it. You trust him and that extends to whatever the hell it is he is currently doing.

“How many fingers am I holdin’ up?” 

“The fuck am I suppose to know?” you whine. Your pace slows further and you can feel your incoming climax fading away. Your legs are really starting to kill you.

“Just checkin’.” He slaps your ass, hard. Making you yelp.

The next thing you know there’s a rustling and you hear something hit the floor. Ghost takes hold of your hands and brings them up to his face. 

Holy fuck. He actually took his mask off for you.

Your fingers trace his face, mapping out every little detail you come across. You want to commit all of it to memory. While you can’t see him, this is certainly a step in the right direction. 

Ghost has pleasantly full lips and a sharp jawline. Already you’re thinking about how nice it will feel to kiss him. Those lips moving with your own in perfect harmony. 

You move away from the thought and continue your exploration. His nose is crooked and there’s a bump in the bridge from where it’s been broken countless times in the past. And you know exactly where his scars are from the way his skin is raised and rough in places. There’s not as many as you thought there would be. The biggest one that captures your attention is on the side of his face. Starting at his forehead, snaking just past his eye and down his cheek, toward his mouth. 

None of them shock you. At least, not completely. And you don’t think that they take away from how handsome you think he must look. 

As you’re tracing his face, you can feel Ghost shifting and moving beneath you, adjusting your positions slightly. Before you can ask what he’s doing he roughly thrusts up into you.

You moan loudly as your hands slide up to grip his hair. It’s a little bit longer than you were expecting it to be, but that makes it perfect for grabbing and tugging on. And you imagine it to be as dark as his eyes.

Ghost sets a hard and fast pace and builds your pleasure back up tenfold. Your moans quickly grow into cries as he fucks you. The grip that you have on his hair tightens as you desperately try to ground yourself. After being edged all night long you honestly feel like you might spontaneously combust. 

Suddenly you feel as if you are falling. With another yelp, this time out of fear not surprise, your fingers leave his hair to grab hold of his broad shoulders as your heart skips a beat. Your back hits the softness of the mattress and, for the first time ever, his lips meets yours in a passionate kiss. Even now you take note of how this is your first kiss ever with him and it’s completely and utterly perfect. You moan into the kiss as his tongue pushes past your lips and into your mouth. He tastes like peppermint gum. 

His pace remains just as relentless as before. The bed starts to creak with every thrust that he gives you. Your body jumps as the pad of his calloused thumb presses against your clit and he starts rubbing it in time of his thrusts.

All of that tension that has been building up inside of you all night long finally snaps. Euphoria rushes through every inch of you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your back arches and a wordless cry, muffled by Ghost’s mouth, leaves you. The feeling of your cunt squeezing around his cock has Ghost falling over the edge straight after you. His hips stuttering as his cock twitches and he fills your pussy to the brim, so that you’re overflowing with his cum. He collapses against you, his head resting in the crook of your neck.

With the absence of your bodies moving, the room is now only filled with the sounds of heavy breathing.

“Thank you. For trusting me, Ghost.” you finally say as you run your fingers through his hair.

There’s a pause. You expect him to pull away and to leave. Like he always does. But tonight is a night of firsts apparently. 

“It’s Simon.”

It’s your turn to pause for a moment. A part of your brain almost has you looking at him before you remember the makeshift blindfold you still have on. 

“What?” you ask, not sure if you had heard him right.

“My name,” he replies. “It’s Simon.” 

You truly feel honoured by the amount of trust that he is showing you tonight. First with removing his balaclava and letting you feel his face and now with telling you his real name. You know that it must take a lot for him.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Simon.”

[flwrior]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCAN'T GET YOU

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ❀﹑ 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖨 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍?

엔하이픈 형선 ୨୧ when they can't get you out of their head , fem reader | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 kissing, skinship, (m/o) smoking/addictions ﹑ （taglist）

✉️ ,, why is jaehyun in the military x2

𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

Seeing you for the first time was like a dream to him. You sat on the swings, gently swaying from the wind brushing against you. Moving in your direction, he sat beside you, surprised at your eagerness to strike up a conversation. “I’ve never seen you before.” Grinning in his direction, you cocked your head to look at his dark eyes, watching a gentle smile tug at his lips. 

It was official, you were never leaving his head after that. You waited for him during every break by the swings, staring at him with your teasing eyes. Darting in the hallways together became a habit until it led to him walking you home every evening. “Can I tell you something?” He spoke through the usual hiss of cicadas in the summer. Humming, you matched his footsteps with yours, catching his gaze. 

Placing your hands on his shoulders you eased him into saying what he wanted, knowing his tendency to hesitate. “Ever since I met you on the swings,” He started, taking a deep breath, meeting your listening gaze firmly. “I can’t get you out of my head.” Smiling casually, you took a few steps towards him, closing up the distance between the two of you. “Not surprising,” Locking your fingers around his neck, you began, “Because I feel the same thing.”

𝐉𝐀𝐘

The school rooftop had always been his thing. Nobody ever bothered him or decided to invade his space until you walked in. Leaning over the school balcony, you weren’t expecting company and neither was he. Inching closer to you, he tapped your shoulder, forcing you out of your daze. Turning to look at him, his sharp gaze softened for a moment before returning to its original state. 

He looked at you intensely, watching as you challenged him with that same intensity. “What?” You asked, trying to remain as nonchalant as your body would allow. Suddenly at a loss for words, he pulled his tie uncomfortably. Breaking the eye contact, he moved beside you, leaning over the balcony and pulling out a cigarette. Scrunching your face in disgust, you pulled the object out of his hand, crushing it with the heel of your shoe. 

“What exactly was that for?” He complained, watching your actions as you leaned your chin against your arms, turning your head to face him. “Put your lips on something else.” You challenged, catching the teasing glint in his eyes. “Really?” He murmured, leaning into you but pausing within inches from your face. Noticing his lack of movement, you nudged your face forward, pressing his lips into a kiss. The bell ringing interrupted the moment. Separating from his lips, you neared the exit. “Find a better addiction.” You spoke, watching his face light up into a grin. From the grin you mirrored back at him, you were the only thing he thought about since then.

𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄

Falling in love with you wasn’t what he was expecting when he met you in the summer on the beach. Knowing how easy it is to find a summer fling, he instantly caught your figure tanning in the heat of the sun and decided that you would be his next target. Clearly unaware that you had more experience in this than him, he was taken aback at your eagerness to flirt back at him, creating tension that never seemed to be satisfied. After deciding that you were a permanent feature of his summer, he followed you around the entirety of summer until it was coming to end. 

Resting your body on the beach, you sat beside him, feeling his body exude heat. Momentarily sitting in silence, you allowed the calm sunset to wash away the worry you had been feeling, knowing that you were probably never going to see him again. “How does it feel knowing you’re never going to see me again?” You joked, trying to ease up the tense atmosphere. Turning to meet his gaze that was already on you, you watched a sly smile grow on his face. 

“It sucks.” He spoke, gazing into the burnt orange sky. Playfully punching his shoulder, you shot a grin in his direction. “Look at you getting all attached.” You spoke, trying to mask the fluttering in your chest. Feeling an odd sense of seriousness from the boy, your grin dropped. “Don’t tell me you’re actually sad about this.” Raising his eyebrow in your direction he sighed heavily. “Don’t tell me you’re not sad about this.” Waves crashed against the shore harshly before retreating back to the ocean, distracting your mind from your wandering thoughts.

“You do know that I can’t get you out of my head, right?” Moving to face him, you caught his burning stare. “I know,” You started, inching towards his lips. “Neither can I.”

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

It was already dark by the time you stumbled into the convenience store, finding no one by the cashier aisle. After choosing what you wanted to buy, you looked around for the familiar college student that never seemed to want to do his job. “Oi cashier boy!” You called, knowing how easily you could get him out of his hiding spot because of the nickname. 

All of a sudden, a figure popped out from the bottom of the till, bumping his head against it. You definitely knew it was not the same boy. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?” You asked, dropping your items on the counter and springing up on your toes to examine his forehead. Realising your panicked behavior, you dropped your hands from his head and finally looked at the new cashier. 

A red tint coated his pale skin, resulting in a million apologies from you. Insisting to help him bandage his forehead, he gave in to your persistence, leading you to the back after paying for a pack of band-aids. Trying not to make eye contact with you, he silently analyzed your face, watching you blow hot air on his forehead to cool the injury. “Sorry for startling you,” You began, noticing his breath hitch at the sound of your voice. “I thought the other cashier was on his shift today.” He winced at the cool ointment touching his skin. 

“It’s fine. I was just covering for my friend since he says he’ll be late.” You hummed at his answer, placing the frozen themed bandage on his forehead. Getting up from your seat, you made your way out of the storage room. “So I’ll see you around then, temporary-cashier-boy.” You spoke, shooting him a wink. “And don’t forget to look at your bandage before you get back.” 

Following you soon after, he pulled out a mirror, finding an Elsa bandage with your number written on it. While smiling into the mirror, the one who was actually supposed to be at his shift appeared. “Why are you smiling? And what’s with the girly bandage?” 

“It’s nothing.” Sunghoon answered, tattooing his mind with your everything.

all rights reserved, flwrior

[insidekatmind]

New life~Levi Colwill

It was a quiet morning, and the house felt calmer than usual. Every corner, every detail had a touch of familiarity that gave you comfort. The silence was only broken by the gentle sound of coffee bubbling in the cup, while the scent of freshly baked bread filled the air.

You and Levi had been married for three years, and your life together had been a journey of laughter, shared dreams, and deep love. Each day seemed like a promise of an even brighter future. And now, after so much longing, you were finally pregnant with your first child. It had only been a month, but the happiness you felt made the world seem like it was shifting beneath your feet.

Levi was at the kitchen table, a tender smile on his lips as he watched you arrange breakfast. He couldn’t stop looking at you, as if he were trying to capture every detail of your change, every little sign that the miracle was happening.

“Please, sit down, don’t overexert yourself,” he said, his voice full of concern, the lines of stress already showing on his forehead. Despite you being only a month pregnant, seeing you walk, every small movement you made, seemed to weigh heavily on his heart.

“Levi, I’m fine, really,” you replied, placing the plate on the table and smiling to reassure him.

He immediately stood up, his expression troubled. “It’s not about ‘fine.’ It’s just that I don’t want anything to happen to you. Our little one is so fragile. And you... you’re more fragile than you think, my love.”

You walked over to him, gently taking his hand, and looked him in the eyes. “I’m not fragile, Levi. I just need a little time to get used to this new reality. But you need to stop worrying every moment. Our baby and I are doing great.”

Levi sighed and looked at you for a long moment, his eyes filled with love, but also with an unspoken fear. “I know, but you are the most important thing to me. And this baby... is a gift, but also a great responsibility. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know you’re scared, but we’ve always supported each other,” you replied softly. “And even though there’s a little life growing inside me now, it won’t change how much we love each other and how much we can face together.”

Levi lowered his gaze, as if he were searching for an answer in your eyes. Then, slowly, he smiled, a smile that spoke of gratitude but also of a slight resignation.

“Okay,” he said finally, taking a deep breath. “Just... please, listen to me when I say you need to take a break. I don’t want to see you too tired. This baby needs you, but you also need to take care of yourself.”

You hugged him, feeling the warmth of his body enveloping you. “I will, I promise.”

In the days that followed, every time you felt tired or overwhelmed, Levi was there to support you, to encourage you, to try and calm his fears. Every small step, every change in your body, became a reason for him to worry but also a reason to celebrate together this new life.

It was clear that, although you were still at the beginning of this adventure, your home was already changing. The thought of becoming parents together gave you a sense of completeness you had never felt before. And with each passing day, the bond between you, Levi, and your baby grew in a quiet but powerful way.

You were grateful for that unconditional support, for that him who loved you with a dedication that bordered on fear. It was as if every little thing you did was a step towards a future that now seemed even more promising, but also more fragile.

[crimsonnsstuff]

hii can you please write a soft dom Gihun x reader 😛🙏 ily btw

Gi-hun was always gentle, his voice a soothing whisper in the quiet of your shared apartment. Tonight, though, there was a different edge to his tone, a promise of something more under the surface.

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching him as he approached, his eyes dark with desire. He stopped in front of you, his fingers lifting your chin to meet his gaze. "You've been a good girl, haven't you?" he murmured, his thumb brushing your lower lip.

You nodded, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "Yes, Gi-hun."

"Good," he said with a smile that made your heart skip. He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a slow, deep kiss that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, his touch light but deliberate, igniting every nerve ending.

"Lie back for me," he instructed softly, and you complied, heart racing as you settled into the pillows. Gi-hun loomed over you, his presence comforting yet thrilling. He began to unbutton your shirt, each button revealing more of your skin to his hungry gaze.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered as he kissed down your neck, his hands caressing your sides. His fingers traced the waistband of your pants, teasing before he slipped them off, leaving you in just your underwear.

He paused, looking at you with such adoration it made your pulse quicken. "I want to make you feel good," he said, his voice a low rumble. His fingers hooked into the sides of your underwear, slowly pulling them down, his eyes never leaving yours.

Once you were bare before him, Gi-hun's hands explored your body with the reverence of a worshipper. He kissed his way down your stomach, his lips soft yet insistent, until he reached where you ached for him the most. His breath was warm against your skin as he murmured, "Tell me if you like this."

Then his mouth was on you, gentle at first, tasting, exploring. His tongue moved with skilled precision, drawing out sighs and moans from you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, guiding him, though he needed no direction, his movements designed to drive you wild.

"Gi-hun, please," you gasped, the pleasure building like a storm inside you.

He climbed back up to meet your lips, letting you taste yourself on him. "You did so well," he praised, his voice full of affection.

Now it was his turn. Gi-hun undressed with a slowness that was almost torturous, revealing his toned body to your eager eyes. He took your hand, guiding it to feel his arousal, his breath hitching at your touch.

"You want this?" he asked, his voice thick with need.

"Yes," you breathed out, your body already craving more.

He positioned himself between your legs, the head of his erection teasing you, making you arch up in anticipation. Then, with a slow thrust, he entered you, filling you completely. Gi-hun set a rhythm that was both loving and demanding, his eyes locked on yours, watching every reaction.

"Tell me how you feel," he whispered, his movements deep but controlled.

"So good," you managed to say, overwhelmed by the sensation. His pace picked up, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you, his hands roaming to find that perfect spot to drive you higher.

He rubs his thumbs over your nipple and you whine. He smirks softly. “Does that feel good?” He asks, you nod your head. “Good..”

When you felt the familiar coil tightening again, you whispered his name, a plea for release. Gi-hun responded by kissing you deeply, his movements becoming more urgent. You climaxed together, his body tensing against yours, the intimacy of the moment sealing you in a bubble of warmth and satisfaction.

Afterwards, he lay beside you, pulling you close, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "You're mine," he murmured, a soft declaration that made your heart flutter with happiness.

In the quiet aftermath, wrapped in each other's arms, you both knew that this was just the beginning of many more nights like this, where Gi-hun would be your soft dom, guiding you into realms of pleasure you had only dreamt of.

[wendichester]

Hiii! I love your blog <3

May I request Sam and Dean x reader (could be together, could be sepperate, I don't mind, as long as it's with established relationship) where reader has a few piercings and always wears like lots of rings and bracelets and does her own nails constantly?

I was thinking for piercings like, a bunch in the ears, either angel fangs or snake bites (I'm a sucker for lip piercings), tongue piercing, maybe even a septum?

Tysm!!

⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 pierced,

summary. just another day at the bunker being cooler than sam and dean combined together

pairing. dean winchester x reader x sam winchester

wordcount. 418

notes. i just feel like an oc like this would leave them fumbling and stumbling over their feet. such cuties

The sound of metal clinking against metal fills the bunker as you slip on your favorite rings, stacking them on nearly every finger. A collection of bracelets dangles from your wrists, jingling softly with each movement. You’re sitting cross-legged at the war room table, carefully painting your nails a deep, glossy black, utterly focused on the task at hand.

Dean leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with an amused grin. “Y’know, sweetheart, you’ve got more hardware on you than my car.”

You smirk without looking up, blowing lightly on your freshly painted nails. “And I wear it better, too.”

Sam chuckles from his spot at the table, where he’s buried in research. His eyes flicker over to you, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “It’s impressive, honestly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without at least five rings on.”

“Seven, actually,” you correct, holding up your hands to show off the intricate silver bands adorning your fingers.

Dean pushes off the doorframe and walks over, tilting his head to examine you more closely. His eyes linger on your lip piercings—the angel fangs glinting in the light—and the small hoop in your septum. “Doesn’t all that metal get annoying?” he asks, though his tone is more curious than critical.

“Nope,” you reply, popping the “p” as you set down the nail polish bottle. “I like how it feels. And it looks cool, right?”

Dean’s eyes narrow playfully. “You fishing for compliments, or what?”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back in your chair with a confident smirk. “Maybe.”

Sam snorts, shaking his head. “She doesn’t need to fish. You’ve been staring at her like she’s a shiny new toy since she sat down.”

Dean shoots him a glare. “Yeah, well, you’re not any better, Mr. Puppy-Dog Eyes.”

Your cheeks warm slightly, but you roll your eyes to cover it up. “You two are impossible.”

Dean grins, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, careful not to smudge your freshly painted nails. “And you love it.”

You can’t help but laugh, swatting at him lightly. “Lucky for you, I do.”

“Alright, lovebirds,” Sam says, spinning his chair around and sitting on it backward. “How about you finish your nails, and we grab a beer after? I think we’ve earned it.”

You smile, picking up the nail polish again. “Deal. But don’t think this gets you out of complimenting me later.” You playfully glare at Dean.

Dean smirks. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume

[vanfleeter]

Performance Sheets

Summary: Jake misunderstood what performance sheets actually were when he buys them from the store. (Small smut piece) Characters: Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader Word count: 1,755k Warnings: 18+ || Language. Adult themes. Smoking. Smut. Nudity. Unprotected, penetrative sex. Slight strip tease. Smacking kink?? (is that a thing?) Oral sex. (if I missed anything, please let me know so I can add it) A/N: No tags since it's a small piece.

❌❌❌❌

Hearing the front door opening, you peer around the corner of the kitchen threshold to see Jake stumbling through the door with grocery bags hanging on each arm and he’s kicking a couple more with his feet. Dropping the dish towel, you quickly make your way to him and pick up the bags from the floor. He utters a breathy ‘thank you’ as he follows behind you to the kitchen.

“What did you buy?” You ask as he dumps the bags onto the kitchen island. “The whole store?”

“Pretty much,” He huffs. “We’re practically bone dry in this house.”

“Well, we have been gone for six months,” You say as you start to put away some of the groceries. The two of you dip and dodge around each other for the next twenty minutes putting the groceries away.

“Oh!” Jake randomly exclaims as he picks up a bag that had fallen to the floor. “I found these in the home section.” He pulls out a pack of sheets from the bag and holds them out for you to see.

“Performance sheets? Jake, we don’t need those.” You say as you put away the last can of spaghetti-o’s in the pantry. “We have many sets of sheets.”

“But not performance sheets.” He empathizes as he sets them on the counter.

“Jake, honey, do you even know what performance sheets are for?” You ask, leaning on the island counter.

“Per..for..ming sheets?” He says slowly. “As in you “perform” on them?”

“Oh honey no,” You giggle while shaking your head. “They help to regulate body temperature and keep you comfortable while you sleep.”

Jake’s eyebrows furrow and he leans on the counter. “So they aren’t for…” You shake your head and he huffs. “Which means I spent sixty dollars on this for nothing?”

“Sixty? Jake..”

“What?!” He exclaims. “I thought they were–”

“Why in the world would Target sell sex enhancing sheets?” You continue to giggle.

Jake shrugs his shoulders. “Do you know who does?”

“Jacob..”

He simply laughs and grabs the sheets in both hands before tossing it up into the air and catching them when they fall. He smirks at you and wags his eyebrows. “Shall we change the meaning of performance sheets?”

“If you put them on, I will gladly fulfill your request.”

“Aw thanks baby,” He says as he kisses you. “Give me twenty minutes tops and then you are all mine.”

“When am I not?” He shoots you a wink before dashing out of the kitchen and running upstairs to the bedroom.

–

Twenty minutes tick by and you hear him calling for you from upstairs. Putting the last of the dishes away in the dishwasher, you close the door and press the start button before making your way upstairs. When you step into the bedroom, you’re suddenly taken aback as you find him laying out on the bed on his back, fully naked and propped up on the pillows with his legs crossed at his ankles. He’s got a blunt in his mouth that he’s trying to light, his focus solely on that. So when he finally looks up, he sees you standing in the bedroom door with your mouth hanging open. A lazy smile spreads across his face as he holds the blunt between his teeth.

“Enjoying the view?” He asks, pulling you from your trance. He chuckles when you only nod your head. You start to take a step forward when he stops you. “Uh uh.. You know the rules..” He says before tossing the lighter over onto the nightstand and taking a drag from the blunt.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes because you wanted him to undress you. So you stand there at the end of the bed and start to remove articles of clothing from your body. His eyes watch every single movement and you could see him swallow as his eyes lock with yours. You know he’s struggling to hold himself back so you take your sweet time dragging your underwear down your legs. His mouth drops slightly open, the blunt sticking to his dry lips.

Straightening back up, you reach your hands behind your back and unhook your bra. The relief from the uncomfortable under garment makes you moan, dropping your head back.

“Fuck..” You hear him mutter.

Dropping your bra to the floor, you swing your knee up onto the bed and hoist yourself up. You crawl across the bed and straddle his waist once you make it to him. His hands immediately find their rightful place on your ass. You take the blunt from his mouth and take a drag before giving it back to him. He reaches for it to take a drag before reaching over to the side and setting it on the tray on the nightstand.

“You look so beautiful,” He says as he squeezes your ass. “Are you ready to put on a show?” You nod your head and he draws you in for a kiss. Without breaking the kiss, you lift your body upwards and reach between you two to line him up with your entrance. You slowly sink back down, completely enveloping him inside of you.

You both moan into each other’s mouth and he squeezes you even tighter. Slowly you begin moving your hips and pulling away from his kiss. Your hands come to rest on his chest to keep yourself steady and you start to pick up your pace just a little.

“That’s it, baby..” He says.

He lets you ride him for a few minutes longer before he’s changing positions. He keeps you on him as he wraps his arms around you and moves to sit on his knees. He spreads them open allowing him to be seated comfortably with you still on his lap. He keeps his arms wrapped around you to hold you in place and he thrusts his hips forward, fucking himself into you as you sink right back down on top of him. He connects to you with each thrust of his hips.

“Are you enjoying this?” You ask, clearly out of breath already.

“Most definitely, baby..” He says.

Starting to feel his thighs cramping, he quickly changes positions again, laying you on your back, your head facing the end of the bed. He rests still between your legs and straightens them out.

“Sorry..” He groans. “Started to cramp.” You can't help but to giggle and he pauses. “Are you laughing at me?”

“You just sound like an old man.” You giggle again and he thrusts himself roughly inside of you, making you gasp yet moan at the same time.

“I didn’t know you had a thing for an old man..”

“Jacob Thomas, I do not!” You say, reaching behind him to smack his ass.

“Oh baby, don't do that..” He says.

“Did that feel good?” You ask.

He nods his head and fucks into you again. “Do it again?”

“Oh?” This you were not expecting.

“Please baby, do it again.”

You slap your palm against his ass again and he moans as he thrusts inside of you again. He buries his face on the crook of your neck as he moves a little faster. He’s sure there will be a red handprint on his ass but he doesn’t care, the feeling it gives him is like euphoria.

Before either of you even reach your orgasms, he’s pulling out of you and leaning back on his knees. He pulls you onto his lap again but makes you face the end of the bed. He doesn’t waste time pushing himself back inside you and beginning again. You cry out his name when he shoves himself so deep that he’s hitting your cervix. There is some pain but the pleasure of him rubbing against your walls is far greater.

You can feel yourself coming closer and closer to your orgasm as he continues his relentless speed. Your walls clench around him and he groans, his fingers digging into your hips.

He’s never had you in this position before but it’s definitely becoming one of your favorites. And he knows your favorite positions. You can feel his hands glide up your sides before he’s cupping both of your breasts. The stimulation from him twisting your nipples combined with his thrusts is enough to send you crashing into your orgasm. He holds you against his chest and he stills himself inside of you to feel you spill all over him.

Once you have relaxed and come down from your orgasm, you carefully climb off of him and lay out on the bed. He chuckles and leans down to kiss you.

“You did so good for me.” He says as he begins to trail more down your body.

“You’re still going?”

“These are performance sheets.” He says with a wink.

Gently he spreads your legs and leans in to lick up all of the release that still drips out of you. You shudder when you feel his tongue lick over your sensitive clit but he pins your hips to the bed to keep you still while he still licks you clean. Once he is finished, he crawls back over top of you and presses his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. He’s still very much hard, his length rubbing against the inside of your thigh.

“Want to try a new position?” He asks when he pulls away.

“Jacob Thomas, what has gotten into you?”

“Changing the definition of performance sheets, darling..” He smirks. “Plus I did a little research while I changed the sheets.”

“Alright, and what do you have in mind?”

“The eagle position.” He says. “How far back can you bend your legs?”

–

When he finally orgasms, he pulls out of you and moves his arms allowing your legs to drop back to the bed. Both of you are completely spent and covered in sweat. He kisses you before rolling off of you and onto his back beside you.

Your heart races in your heart, the thrumming of it is the only sound that you hear. Turning into his side, he props himself up on his elbow, resting his head in his hand.

“So.. How did I do?” He asks. “Did I perform well?”

You laugh, making him smile. “You definitely gave performance sheets a whole new meaning..” You tell him. “I’m going to need a day or two to recover.”

“I can just see the standing ovation..” He jokes, laughing again when he sees you roll your eyes.

[moonlight-joy]

Just a Little Longer

Fandom: Kraven the hunter

Summary: You ask Sergei to stay, voicing your fear of losing him. Reluctantly, he agrees, breaking through his guarded nature. In the warmth of the firelit cabin, you share a rare, vulnerable moment, finding solace in his protective embrace as the world fades away for one peaceful night.

Pairing: Reader/Sergei Kravinoff

“Before you go, can you stay a little longer?” your voice broke through the stillness, softer than you intended, yet filled with an unmistakable plea. Sergei paused mid-motion, his broad shoulders tense as he turned to face you. His piercing gaze, usually so guarded, softened slightly at the edges as he studied your expression.

“Why?” he asked, his voice a low rumble, as if testing the waters of your request.

You hesitated, unsure how to explain the ache in your chest, the unspoken fear of watching him walk out that door again. The room was dimly lit, the fire in the hearth casting flickering shadows across his sharp features. He stood near the doorway, his gear slung over one shoulder, the essence of a man always prepared to face whatever the world threw at him.

“Because I… I just need you to stay,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “Just for a little while. Please.”

Sergei’s expression shifted, a flicker of something unnameable crossing his face. He set his gear down with deliberate slowness, as though giving himself time to consider your words. When he finally straightened, he closed the distance between you with a few long strides.

“You know I don’t stay in one place for long,” he said, his voice quieter now but still holding that firm edge of truth. “It’s not safe.”

“And out there is?” you countered, gesturing vaguely to the window. “You’re always on the move, always chasing or being chased. Just this once, can’t you let the world wait?”

His lips pressed into a thin line as he regarded you, a battle waging behind his eyes. Sergei was a man of action, a hunter who thrived on movement and purpose. Yet here you were, asking him to do the one thing he struggled with most: pause.

“What’s this really about?” he asked, his tone softening. “Tell me.”

You exhaled shakily, looking down at your hands as you tried to find the right words. “Every time you leave, I… I wonder if it’s the last time I’ll see you. If this will be the hunt you don’t come back from.” Your voice faltered, but you pushed on. “I just… I don’t want to say goodbye again, not tonight.”

Sergei’s expression softened further, and he reached out, his large hand gently tilting your chin upward so your eyes met his. “I always come back,” he said, his voice a low, steady promise.

“But for how long?” you whispered. “One day, you won’t. And I… I don’t know what I’d do then.”

The weight of your words hung heavy between you, and for once, Sergei had no immediate reply. Instead, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. His embrace was firm, grounding, and spoke of things he often left unsaid.

“I’ll stay,” he said after a long moment, his voice rough but resolute. “Tonight, I’ll stay.”

You closed your eyes, relief washing over you as you clung to him. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear was a comfort, a reminder that, for now, he was here. For now, the world outside could wait.

The fire burned low in the hearth as the two of you sat together on the worn couch. Sergei had shed his gear, leaving it in a neat pile by the door, and now leaned back with one arm draped over the backrest. You sat beside him, your legs tucked under you, the warmth of the fire and his presence lulling you into a rare sense of peace.

“You’re not used to asking for things,” Sergei said after a while, his voice breaking the comfortable silence.

You glanced at him, startled by the observation. “What makes you say that?”

He gave a small, knowing smile. “You hesitate. Like you’re afraid of what the answer might be.”

“Maybe I am,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “You’re not exactly predictable, Sergei. Sometimes I feel like you’re here one moment and gone the next.”

He didn’t deny it, instead nodding thoughtfully. “The life I lead doesn’t leave much room for staying still. But you…” He trailed off, his gaze turning thoughtful. “You’re different. You make me think about things I haven’t thought about in years.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. “Is that a good thing?”

“It scares me,” he admitted, his honesty catching you off guard. “But maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

The vulnerability in his voice was rare, and it made you reach for his hand instinctively. He let you take it, his calloused fingers wrapping gently around yours.

“You don’t have to be afraid with me,” you said softly. “I’m not going anywhere. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever.”

He squeezed your hand lightly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’re braver than I am,” he said, his tone carrying a touch of wonder.

“No,” you replied with a small smile. “I just know what’s worth fighting for.”

For a while, neither of you spoke, content to sit in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. The firelight danced across the walls, casting a warm glow over the room, and the world beyond the cabin seemed to fade away.

As the night deepened, Sergei stretched out on the couch, his head resting against the armrest. You found yourself lying beside him, your head on his chest and his arm draped protectively around you. The steady rise and fall of his breathing was soothing, and you felt yourself drifting closer to sleep.

“Thank you,” you murmured drowsily, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

“For staying,” you replied. “For giving me this.”

He was silent for a moment, then pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Always,” he said quietly.

And in that moment, with the warmth of the fire and the steady beat of Sergei’s heart beneath your ear, you felt a rare sense of contentment. The world could wait, just a little longer.