#ignore that i just. forgot to answer the first one first time i posted this lmao

[thedoodlebuggo]

📏 📚

[x]

📏 What’s your go-to canvas size?

i've been trying to make em smaller to make the files less big, so generally it's been.. maybe 1200x1300 pixels? i use 1600x2000 or 2000x3000 for more detailed works though

📚 How many layers do you typically use?

uhh good question! for animatics i use anywhere from 4-7 layers, (sketch, background colors, main lineart, main base, background lineart, background base, and then an overlay over all of it). for polished illustrations it really depends! could be anywhere from 10-30+, but i think 16-20 is probably my average(??)

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

pairing Joel Miller x Female Reader summary It’s getting harder for Joel to ignore the way he feels about you—especially on the night you try on new clothes just for him. [post-outbreak, fluff, mildly suggestive, 1k] a/n Here’s something short, sweet, and low stakes as I work on longer requests. Joel is down bad, but don't tell anyone.

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

Want is a brave, unabashed thing. There’s no ignoring it when it arises as a persistent hum beneath Joel’s skin. Like a brewing storm you can’t escape, the inevitability of the tide as it barrels towards the shore. It’d been years since he felt something rise within him so strongly, yet it insists he welcomes it back like a friend. 

Joel shifts where he sits on the foot of your bed. The sound of your shuffling continues to emit from the closet. He runs a heavy hand through his hair, then scratches the back of his neck. It’s a restlessness he doesn’t quite know what to do with as he waits for you to reappear. It doesn’t help that he can hear every sound you make on the other side of the door—hangers clacking, fabric rustling. 

With a once-dormant facet of his imagination, Joel attempts to paint a picture of the in-between. Of everything he can’t see right now—the slow glide of the clothes over your skin, the graceful way your limbs maneuver. He’s never considered himself much of an artist aside from the creations he forges with his own hands, but he’s certain that with you as his muse, his mind’s eye alone is meritable. 

The door opens, and there you are. 

It’s another sweater this time, but he swears this one fits you better than the rest. It’s a lovely shade of cream with a V-cut neckline and structure that clings to you frame enough to accentuate your shape. Joel nods before any question is asked of him, and your smile is well worth it. Flattered and shy all the same. 

“You like it?” 

“‘Course I do,” Joel insists. “C’mere. Lemme get a good look.” 

Come here. They’re words he’s getting used to rolling past his lips so freely. They’re sweet. It’s as if the ability to beckon someone like you into his proximity is a well-aged wine he’s finally allowed to indulge in. Like the wonder you are, you listen, ready to be drunken in. 

Any hesitance on your end is feigned. You don’t want to seem too eager as you pad between Joel’s spread legs. Outside, the sunlight is fleeting, but it’s enough to illuminate him and your bedroom dimly. His brow bone casts a slight shadow that makes his eyes appear even darker than they are. Another is cast beneath the curve of his jaw onto his thick neck. That intensity doesn’t transfer into his touch. His hands are cautious as they reach out to feel the fabric, as if you’ll startle or step away. But he forgets that it’s you who’d wanted him in your orbit for so long. 

“Feels real nice,” he says. “How do you like it?” He looks up into your eyes as his hands settle on your waist.

“I love it.” You cup his cheek and brush a thumb over the scruffy skin. Joel leans into your touch. “Saved the best for last.” 

“Looked gorgeous in everything.” His voice comes out thicker. 

This sliver of the evening was never about any of the clothes. It was about you wanting to share your findings with Joel and letting him into a little part of your world that he’d never sat in on before. It was all so casual that he forgot, if only for a moment, that the world hadn’t fallen apart. There’d been a pleasant tug in the wait. A small thrill whenever you stepped back through the door donned in something new. What struck him even more was that these first glances were just for him. 

“Is this your favorite too?” The smile on your lips suggests you already know the answer. 

Joel’s cheeks warm. “Yeah, I… yeah.” 

Your hand doesn’t leave his face as you say, “What about it?” 

Joel swallows the lump in his throat as his neck warms. If you’re not messing with him, he’ll be damned. You watch how he combs through his mind for an answer you already know resides in the forefront. Even though he spirals all the more, he’s grateful that your sweet laugh flows into the air before he can stammer through an answer. 

Your free hand rises to cup his other cheek, and he wishes he could look away to preserve whatever remains of his pride. But Joel helplessly looks up at you because that’s what he is these days. Helpless. Despite himself, he begins to smile too. Then you lean down to capture his lips. It’s not the type of kiss you pour into with all that you are but one that’s much lighter. So much so that it borders on playful and comes to a premature end. 

A heavy exhale escapes him as you finally let go of his face. “You like makin’ things hard for me?” His question is gruff and honest, but there’s affection in his eyes. 

You pretend to think. “What’s hard?” you ask. “You, my question, or both?” 

Joel’s stomach flips. ���Real funny, ain’t ya?” 

“Scooch back, and we can find out.” 

You motion for him to move further back on the bed, and he listens, eyes stuck on you. Joel scoots until he’s in the center, biceps flexing with his effort. The mattress dips as you climb to join him, walking on your knees until you can straddle his lap. Joel's head meets the pillows when you place a hand on his chest in a silent encouragement to lie down. The rise and fall of his chest grows more pronounced. So does the tightness in his jeans.

“I like the way it fits,” Joel finally says, voice small and measured. “You got a real nice figure.” Your gaze softens as you look down at him because you can hear his sincerity, the underlying shyness. 

“Drive me crazy all the damn time. Ain’t even gotta try,” he says, hands steadying your waist as he shifts beneath you. “S’getting awful hard to pretend that ain’t the case.”

He gives you a gentle squeeze then. “Swear I don’t mean any disrespect.” 

Joel holds his breath when your fingers move to the first button of his shirt. You pop it undone before moving to the next one, then the next. He makes a small, pleased sound when you lean down to kiss the exposed skin. He’s warm and earthy. 

“The feeling’s mutual,” you murmur as you undo another button and kiss the next portion of revealed skin. “Hope this is okay…” 

“It’s more than okay,” he assures, breath catching in his throat.

-

Thanks for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. I promise I see them all. 

JOEL MASTERLIST

ALL MASTERLISTS

[sleepyjuice]

toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.

you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.

rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something

rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with

rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t

rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK

rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.

rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.

you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.

three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.

you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.

sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe

you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.

you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.

rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)

you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too

rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby

you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.

[saeist]

what people don't know about sae itoshi is that despite being known as the nonchalant final boss, he's actually the most chalant person known to man when it comes to his lover

it's quite hilarious really. people who know about your relationship usually come to you and ask how the soccer super star prodigy has been treating you but you always answer the same— he's treating you well

although people don't really buy it. the way sae acts around you in public is rigid at best. yes, he's your boyfriend and yes, he loves you very much but when you two are out and about, media outlets just can't help but publish articles about how the famed midfielder is totally "an emotional unavailable partner" (sae reports every single article about this btw)

sae itoshi is a man of few words. letting his actions talk for him is one way to put it

but behind closed doors? it's another story

it might be considered a legend that the sae itoshi is actually a pretty hands on boyfriend. in fact, sometimes it becomes a little too much when he dotes on you so much

one time you texted him that you had a headache for a while now and you almost forgot who you were texting the second he replies that it's because you didn't do this and that today

[3:14 PM] mi corazón: ? [3:14 PM] mi corazón: did you drink water today? i didn't see you drink before i left for training [3:15 PM] mi corazón: have you eaten? fucking hell don't tell me you "forgot" to eat again because you were caught up at work? [3:16 PM] mi corazón: wya? i'll order you food. ask your shitty co workers what they want too so i can treat your department while i'm at it. tsk [3:17 PM] mi corazón: tsk. what will you do without me [3:17 PM] you: sae... it's just a headache.... it's hot out today [3:18 PM] mi corazón: you forgot to bring the fucking umbrella i got you from pasotti? [3:19 PM] you: ykw i don't have a headache anymore [3:20 PM] mi corazón: read 3:20 PM

another time was you had joined him into going on a hike with his friends (shidou and aiku) and you accidentally had spluttered mud all over your legs

aiku and shidou were kind enough to stop so you could clean yourself up but you simply brush it off and say that it's part of the nature experience of hiking but sae thought otherwise

he grabbed a wet wipe from his backpack (another hc: he comes prepared like a boyscout with shit like this like personal hygiene shit💀), kneels down behind you and starts wiping the mud off your legs

much to everyone's surprise

"be careful next time" sae mutters, wiping the last bit of mud on your calf before disposing the now dirty wipes away

when you don't say anything, sae looks up and raises a brow

"what?"

he then watches your eyes motion to the bystanders being aiku and shidou, who both had their jaws dropped to the floor

who knew their little soccer super star friend could be this down bad to their lover?

sae immediately gets up from the ground, brushing his trousers as he clears his throat. as if that could erase that beautiful moment shared with you from aiku and shidou's minds

"tsk. don't make a big deal out of it" sae clicks his tongue in annoyance as he leads the pack back on the trail. consciously ignoring aiku and shidou's loud giggles and teasing

sae knows damn well that they won't ever live this down but who cares. if it's you, he'd do anything in a heartbeat

a few weeks pass by and wow, was sae right. those two idiots did not in fact live it down. so much that they just had to leak it to the media that the nonchalant final boss, sae itoshi isn't the final boss to nonchalance after all

the first thing he sees on his phone was a new article posted by pop base

[EXCLUSIVE] SAE ITOSHI ISN’T EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED AFTER ALL? JUICY INSIDERS SCOOP!

when he takes a peek at the article (before he reports it), it was oddly specific and detailed about that one hiking trip you had a few weeks ago. he didn't have to put two and two together to figure out who these "juicy insiders" were

"god damn it" sae clenches his jaw as he continues to skim through the article

suddenly sae hears you burst out laughing from the living room

oh no.

sae trudges to your shared living room with your own cup of kombucha for the day and sees you laughing your ass out while reading the same article

"stop reading that" sae groans, settling down the cup on the coffee table. he takes a seat next to you and leans his head on top of yours

"they're right you know" you giggle, reading the article "for a guy who acts all cold and collected on the outside, you sure are the exact opposite on the inside"

sae rolls his eyes, "gee. i wonder where they got that information from. i'm going to kill both of them" he mutters, pertaining to shidou and aiku

"you're just embarrassed that you've been exposed for the secret lover boy you are"

"they don't need to know what goes on behind closed doors" he points out. true

"okay lover boy. whatever you say" you laugh, holding your hands up in surrender. there was no point with arguing with sae when it comes to shit like this

there's a moment of silence after that. you glance up to catch sae quietly looking at you. like he was all caught up in the moment within your shared humble abode

"jesus. you really are down bad" you gasp quietly, covering your mouth pretending to be shocked. sae snaps out of his little trance hearing your words and flicks your forehead

"am not!"

"are so!"

"no!"

"yes!"

"i love you" you interject, catching sae slightly off guard

you meet sae's eyes as they soften. he simply shrugs and wraps an arm around your shoulders as he pulls you close to his chest

"and i love you more— now stop reading that stupid article before i report you and that damn news media outlet"

"sae!"

[thepencilnerd]

Anatomy of Want

summary: Jack Abbot never thought he'd be this undone over a resident. But you were unlike anyone he'd met—brilliant under pressure, quick on your feet, and impossible to ignore. What begins as admiration quickly becomes something deeper, something that simmers beneath every shared shift, until it threatens to boil over. warnings/notes: 18+ MDNI, age gap, slow burn, mutual pining, jealousy, praise kink, shameless smut, oral sex (f&m receiving), body worship, depictions of war scars, literally just an excuse to write jack abbot smut & you kissing his scars bc that man lives in my head rent free wc: 5.4k a/n: forgot i posted this on ao3 but not here :}

You joined the night shift in a flurry of quiet confidence and dazzling competence, and Jack noticed you immediately. It wasn’t just the way you handled patient load like clockwork, or how you navigated the trauma bay with a calm assurance usually reserved for seasoned attendings. It was the way you asked questions, the way you looked at problems sideways, the way you never folded, even when things got messy.

He told himself he was just impressed. That it was his responsibility, as your mentor, to push you. And he did—assigned you the trickiest cases, brought you into every complicated intubation, every crashing patient. You rose to each occasion like you'd been waiting for it, and Jack couldn't stop himself from watching.

"Nice call on that bleed in bay three," he said one night, as you stripped off your gloves, blood spattered on your gown. "You didn’t hesitate."

You shrugged, a wry smile on your lips. "Wasn't much time to, I could've acted faster."

He looked at you a beat longer than necessary. "Take the win, Dr. L/N."

That was how it went for months. Shifts passed in a rhythm he hadn’t felt in years. He trusted you. Relied on you. Admired you, yes, but more than that. There were moments—lingering looks across trauma bays, soft laughs shared over half-spilled coffee at 3 a.m., casual brushes of your hands when passing charts that lingered a beat too long.

Once, when you struggled with a stubborn intubation, he’d leaned in close, murmuring, "You've got this," low enough that it was meant just for you. His hand steadied your elbow, brief but grounding. You’d nailed the tube placement. He’d smiled the whole rest of the shift.

After the harder nights, he started climbing to the roof again. The first time he found you there—legs dangling off the ledge, coffee in hand, still in scrubs—he thought it was coincidence.

It wasn’t.

"Couldn't sleep either?" you'd said without looking at him, voice soft with exhaustion.

He didn’t answer right away. Just sat beside you, shoulder brushing yours.

You didn’t say much after that. Neither did he. Just silence, and the hum of the city below, and a sense of belonging he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.

Some nights, you’d pass a bag of vending machine pretzels back and forth in companionable quiet. Other nights, you'd trade war stories—the worst consults, the craziest saves—your voices low, private, confessions to the stars.

It was easy. Natural. Dangerous.

Jack tried to tell himself it didn’t mean anything. That it was just friendship. Just exhaustion.

But then there were the nights he caught himself watching you laugh at something small, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and his chest tightened with something he couldn’t name.

The tension built slowly, like pressure behind a dam.

Then came the morning you were signing out charts at the nurse’s station, still in your scrubs and rubbing at a bruise forming on your shoulder. Samira Mohan breezed in, bright-eyed, coffee in hand.

"Don’t forget," she said, pulling up beside you. "8pm tonight. David from anesthesia."

"Shit." You'd totally blanked. "I almost forgot, I'm sorry."

"You’re gonna be great," she assured. "He’s nice. And hot. Like... surgery hot."

You couldn't help the snort that escaped you. "What do I even wear? It’s been so long. I bought that one thing..."

Samira's eyes lit up. "Oh, the black lace set?"

"Samira!" Your hands flew up to cover her mouth, cheeks pink and lips pressed tight. "Keep your voice down!" The words came out tight.

"It’s classy!" she laughed, prying your hands off her mouth. "I stand by it. Black is always a good call."

Neither of you noticed Jack at the far end of the nurses' station, flipping through charts but not actually reading them.

He stood there longer than he needed to. Long enough to hear about the date. Long enough to hear about the lingerie. Long enough for his mind to start betraying him—already picturing you in it, delicate black lace against your skin, curves he'd only admired from a respectful distance until now. He wasn't sure whether he'd be more desperate to tear it off you with his hands or his teeth.

And something in him shifted. Just a little. But enough to curl his fingers tighter around the chart in his hands, to clench his jaw until it ached. You sounded hesitant, unsure, nervous in a way that didn’t track with the woman who could crack a diagnosis under pressure without breaking a sweat.

He heard the waver in your voice when you said, "I’m just… worried," and it rang in his head like bolded text. Jack knew you too well not to read between the lines. You weren’t worried about the guy—you were worried because someone else already occupied your mind.

And damn it, he wanted nothing more than for it to be him.

He didn’t want anyone else to be close to you like that. Not because he thought you needed protecting, but because he’d never met someone whose mind, whose hands, whose presence made him feel like maybe—just maybe—he could let someone in again.

Samira nudged you with her elbow, oblivious to the ripple effect her words had left in their wake. "Go home, take a nap, put on something that makes you feel good, and just... have fun, okay? It's your first night off in weeks—you deserve to enjoy it."

You hesitated, biting your lip. "I don't know... it's been a while. What if it's awkward? What if I forgot how to do this?"

She grinned like the devil herself. "You don't forget. It's like muscle memory. Besides, you’re hot. And smart. And wearing black lace. You'll be fine."

You laughed weakly, dropping your voice. "It's just... first date sex? After a dry spell? I feel like I'll crash and burn."

Samira waggled her eyebrows. "Best way to crash. Trust me."

A snap echoed through the room—the sharp, unmistakable crack of plastic breaking.

You and Samira both glanced up.

Jack bent calmly, retrieved the shattered halves of a pen from the floor, and tucked them into his pocket like nothing had happened.

You blinked. Samira blinked. Then shrugged and kept talking.

"Go have fun," she repeated, nudging you again. "Tonight's about you. No pressure, no expectations. Just... have a good time."

You nodded, though your heart wasn't in it. The twist in your stomach wasn't nerves about the date.

It was the thought of someone else entirely.

You smiled weakly and nodded, though your stomach twisted in ways that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with someone else entirely.

On your way out, you passed Jack by the charting station, offered him a quiet, "See you on Monday, Dr. Abbot." He gave you a tight-lipped smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Eight o’clock rolled around faster than you expected.

You stood outside the restaurant, already regretting your decision. The lace set beneath your outfit felt less like a confidence boost and more like a secret that didn’t belong to this version of the night. Still, you squared your shoulders and walked in, searching the tables until you saw a man wave—clean cut, kind smile, textbook charming.

David was, by all accounts, exactly what Samira had described. Funny, intelligent, a bit pretentious, but typical for your average resident. He complimented your dress. Asked about your shift schedule. Talked about scuba diving in Belize, his past summer at his parent's beach house.

But your smile stopped at your cheeks. You laughed at the right moments. You answered questions politely. And every so often, your mind wandered back to a different voice��rougher, lower, more familiar.

You thought of Jack’s dry wit. The way he tucked his hands into his scrub pockets when he was thinking. The sound of his laugh, more of a chuckle, rare but always sincere. The heat in his gaze when he really looked at you, like he was trying to hear what colors tinted your thoughts.

You forced yourself back to the conversation with rapid blinks, nodding at whatever David was saying about residency rotations and placements. He was nice. He really was.

So why did you feel like you were somewhere you didn’t belong?

Maybe it was the way David's hand reached for yours across the table, smooth and tentative, and how you instinctively pulled back before you could stop yourself. It wasn’t rude—just reflex. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel familiar.

Not like Jack’s hands—callused and warm—when they’d guided your wrist during your first real incision, steadying your nerves with his quiet presence. His grip had been firm, reassuring. You could still remember the way his fingers curled gently but purposefully around yours, the scent of antiseptic and adrenaline in the air.

David’s hand was too small. Too soft. Too unsure. There was no strength in it. No certainty. No experience.

God you were going insane.

"Sorry," you exhaled, offering him a polite smile. But your attention was already drifting, your eyes drawn to a familiar silhouette across the room.

Salt and pepper curls caught the neon light just right. Jack Abbot stood at the far end of the bar, one hand wrapped around a beer, the other resting on the wood tabletop, eyes cast toward the floor—until he looked up.

And found you.

Your breath caught. The background noise dulled to static. For a suspended moment, the two of you just stared. Time slowed. Jack didn’t blink. He didn’t look away.

He didn’t have to.

You felt it in your gut—the electric pull of something intangible.

David started talking again, but it was white noise. The clink of a glass, the hum of conversation, all drowned out by the weight of that look, of Jack watching you like you were the only person in the room.

And suddenly, you were.

You raised your wine glass slowly, holding his gaze as you took a sip. Jack mirrored you, bringing his beer to his lips with a quiet intensity that made your chest tighten. The silence stretched between you like a live wire.

Fingers tightening around the stem, you set your glass down with a little too much force, feigning a glance at your phone as if a sudden messaged had triggered a vibration. "Shit, it's an emergency," you lied, offering a rushed, apologetic smile. "Something came up at the hospital. I have to go. I'm so sorry."

David looked disappointed, but nodded, ever the gentleman. "Of course! Rain check?"

A small, apologetic smile tugged at your lips as you rose, shrugging into your coat. Pulse pounding in your ears, you threaded your way through the maze of tables, slipping out the door with a tight exhale.

Behind you, the scrape of a barstool echoed a second later—quick, deliberate.

Out in the cool night air, you rounded the corner into the alley beside the building, your breath misting as you leaned against the brick wall. The adrenaline had only just begun to settle in your bloodstream when you heard the trailing of familiar footsteps.

Jack Abbot appeared a moment later, turning the corner with his hands outstretched, his brow furrowed like he wasn’t sure what he was doing there until his eyes found yours.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low. He shifted closer to you, arms now crossed.

You nodded. "Yeah. I just... needed air."

A pause. Eyes dipped, then lifted again, something unspoken skating between you.

You cleared your throat. "How was your evening?"

Jack blinked at the pivot, letting it settle between you. "Uneventful."

"What were you doing at that bar?" you asked, an arch to your brow that softened the tension.

He allowed himself a grin, shoulders relaxing just slightly. "It’s my usual spot. Popular with the old folks."

"Samira did say it had a vintage charm to it when she picked it out," you replied with a smirk.

Jack scoffed at the poke at his age, making both of you laugh.

"Alright then," he countered, eyes narrowing with a spark of mischief. "What were you doing there?"

You hesitated, then exhaled a slow breath. "Ruining my chances of settling down."

His expression flickered.

"What?" You gave a half-laugh, smile twisted with self-deprecation. "Isn't that the whole point of dating as a doctor? Just a long game of figuring out how emotionally unavailable I still am and forever will be?"

Abbot sighed, long and quiet, like it came from somewhere deeper than just the moment.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him, curiosity tugging at your features. "Were you… waiting on someone?"

That gave him pause.

Jack stilled. The corner of his mouth twitched—not quite a frown, not quite a smile. His gaze didn’t meet yours at first. He looked past you, to the mouth of the alley, like the answer might be written in the shadows or the neon lights beyond. Like if he stalled long enough, you might forget you asked.

"Not exactly," he started, voice rougher than usual.

You lifted a brow.

He exhaled again, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "I didn’t come here for that. But when I saw you…" He trailed off, eyes finally locking onto yours. "Guess I started waiting."

Your breath caught. The weight of his words settled in your chest—slow and warm and heavy. Something about the way he said it made it feel less like a confession and more like an inevitability.

He’d been waiting. Watching. Wanting. The same way you’d been tiptoeing around the truth since you'd stepped foot into that ER—since the very first time your fingers brushed as he passed you a chart, since the first time your eyes met across the trauma bay, since that first quiet moment together on the roof.

With the dim alley light casting soft gold between you, something gave. Tension melted into gravity, and gravity into pull, pull into a quiet explosion. You stepped forward just as he did, meeting in the middle, neither of you saying a word. The kiss hit like floodgates bursting—urgent, aching, years of held-back desire finally snapping loose.

His mouth was warm, tasting of beer and something deeply Jack. His cologne clung to the collar of his coat, smoky and crisp, and you inhaled it like oxygen. Hands found your waist, large and steady, trailing down to your hips and cupping your curves like he'd memorized them long before ever touching. Your fingers curled around the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer, needing more.

It felt like one of those messy makeouts from college—reckless, hungry, impossibly heady. But this wasn't some clumsy hookup. This was the culmination of every stolen glance, every almost-touch, every moment spent not saying the thing that burned between you.

You were both sober enough to know what this was—what it meant. When Jack pulled away, just slightly, his breath brushing your lips, his voice dropped into something gravel-soft. "You're not drunk?"

You shook your head, words catching in your throat. "One glass of wine. I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

That was all he needed.

You surged forward, capturing his mouth again with a need that bordered on desperate. Jack backed into the wall with a soft grunt, pulling you in like the space between you had always belonged to him. His hands roamed—one sliding up to cup your jaw, the other finding your lower back, anchoring you like he was terrified you'd disappear.

The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing yours, tasting of mint and longing and everything unspoken between you. You whimpered into his mouth, fingers threading through the curls at the nape of his neck, feeling him shiver at the contact. He devoured you like a man starved, and when he pulled back, just enough to look at you, lips swollen and voice rough, he rasped, "Let me take you home." 

You nodded, breathless, pulse thundering in your throat. The walk back to your apartment was quiet, the tension between you humming like electricity under your skin. Jack simply held your hand the entire way. The air crackled, your hand brushing his once, twice, before he finally laced your fingers together.

Arriving at your front door, your hands trembled slightly as you unlocked it. The weight of what was about to happen anchored itself deep in your stomach. You stepped inside, the warm light of your living room spilling over the hardwood floors. Jack hovered in the doorway, hesitant, until you reached for his hand again.

"Come in," you said softly.

He followed.

You led him to the couch, asking quietly if he wanted anything to drink. Jack shook his head, stepping closer until your bodies were barely apart.

"I don’t need anything," he murmured. "Except you."

You inhaled sharply, but before you could speak, his lips were on yours again—slower this time, reverent, like he was memorizing every contour of your mouth. His hands cupped your face as he pulled you closer, until you felt the full heat of him against you.

You reached for the hem of his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, then your fingers found the buttons of his shirt, fumbling slightly. Jack took over, shrugging out of it with ease. Beneath, his skin was warm and firm beneath your wandering hands, the light dusting of chest hair catching the soft glow of your floor lamp.

Jack’s hands slid under the hem of your top, brushing up your sides, warm palms skating over bare skin. When he pulled it over your head and saw the black lace lingerie beneath—filigree against your skin, delicate and dark—his breath caught in his throat.

"That kid," he spat, "wouldn’t know how to take care you."

You managed a breathless laugh, the tension and heat between you turning reckless. "And what exactly does taking care of me imply, Dr. Abbot?" you teased, voice low and daring.

Jack's eyes darkened immediately, his fingers tightening slightly where they gripped your waist. "Everything you need," he rasped. "And more."

You smiled, bold with adrenaline, tipping your chin up toward him. "And you think you can handle me?"

He leaned in, mouth grazing your ear, voice wrecked and certain. "Sweetheart," Jack said, "I'm counting on it."

He unclasped your bra with one hand, letting it fall away before sliding his palms across your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples in slow, deliberate strokes. "You’re perfect."

You arched into him with a quiet gasp, his touch both soothing and incendiary. He kissed your neck, down your collarbone, until he was lowering you gently onto the couch.

"Let me take care of you," he said, voice hoarse with restraint.

Your only answer was a nod, a whispered, "Please."

Jack kneeled between your thighs, kissing his way down your stomach, murmuring soft nothings against your skin. He slipped your underwear down slowly, eyes locked with yours. He paused only briefly, kissing the inside of your thigh before taking two fingers and teasing them along your entrance.

You gasped, hips bucking as he gently eased a finger inside, curling it expertly. "So wet for me," he murmured, awed. "God, you’re dripping."

And then he was lowering his mouth to you, tongue parting you gently. When he sucked your clit into his mouth, your back arched and your fingers dove into his hair, holding tight.

Jack groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core. "I could live here," he muttered. "Die happy between your thighs."

You whimpered, tugging harder at his hair. "Jack—please—"

He didn’t stop. His tongue moved in rhythm with his fingers, slow at first and then faster, guided by your every gasp and shudder. The sound of him—soft groans muffled against your slick, the wet sounds of his mouth working you over—had your skin tingling. The taste of you seemed to drive him wild, his chin slick with your arousal as he murmured, "Fucking incredible," into your core.

His fingers curled just right, finding that perfect spot with unerring precision. Your moans spilled out freely, hands clutching at his hair, holding him there. He groaned again, a sound of pure pleasure. "That’s it, sweetheart. Let go for me."

When it broke—when you shattered with a breathless, keening cry—Jack held you through it, grounding you with his strong hands bracketing your hips. His lips never left you, drawing out every tremble, every ripple of your climax until it became too much. Your thighs twitched, pleasure tipping toward the edge of pain, and with trembling fingers, you tapped gently at his shoulder. A silent plea for mercy.

He stilled instantly, pulling back with his mouth slick and eyes dark, but gentle.

You could only scoff, breath shaky and a smile of bliss coloring your face. Jack leaned forward to press a kiss to your thigh, tender and unhurried. "You’re unbelievable," he whispered, voice rough with awe and restraint.

He pulled back slowly, face glistening, licking his fingers clean before sucking them into his mouth, savoring every bit of your taste. Then he looked up at you like you were the only thing that existed. Like he'd just touched heaven.

As he kissed up your body, his breath fanned across your damp skin—each kiss a pause, a confession. His facial hair scraped lightly in contrast to the softness of his lips, leaving trails of heat along your ribs, then your collarbone. When he reached your neck, he lingered there, nuzzling the hollow beneath your jaw before pressing a kiss to it, like he couldn't get enough of the way you tasted, the way you felt, the way you breathed beneath him.

"Can I undress you?" you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. He looks up at you like the morning sky, warmth, admiration, and affection—but there's hesitation there too.

He swallows, jaw flexing slightly, before nodding. "Yeah," he says quietly. "Just... heads up."

You pause, thumb brushing the edge of his cheek. "Jack?"

His voice is rough. "You’ll see scars. From before. It’s not a big deal, just... some of them are pretty bad." He tries to laugh it off, but his eyes flicker away and his shoulders tense. Your heart cracks open at the vulnerability he rarely lets anyone see.

"Hey," you murmur, tilting his face back toward yours. "Whatever you’ve been through, whatever you carry—I want to see all of you. Every piece."

Jack's throat bobbed with a swallow, eyes glassy as he searched your face for doubt—and found none. His fingers brushed lightly along your jaw. 

You undressed him slowly, fingers trembling as you tugged his belt open, then popped the button of his slacks. His cock strained against the fabric, an eager outline that made your mouth water. When you pushed his pants down, the sight made you pause—he was perfect. Not too much, not too little—cut, well-groomed, thick and just the right length. A light trail of hair led up to a stomach carved with muscle, the kind earned by years of hard work, not vanity.

You wrapped your fingers around him, gave him a few slow pumps, marveling at the weight of him in your hand. When you ducked your head and pressed a kiss to the flushed tip, he hissed softly, hand threading into your hair. You licked him experimentally, kitten licks at first, savoring the velvet softness of his skin, the way he twitched at every flick of your tongue.

You took him into your mouth, slowly, a few shallow bobs that had him groaning low in his throat. His other hand gripped the back of the couch behind you as his hips twitched forward, but just when you began to settle into a rhythm, he gently but firmly pulled you back.

Jack crushed his mouth to yours, desperate and breathless, his hands cradling your face. "Not like that," he murmured, voice trembling against your lips. "I’m not coming anywhere but inside you. I want to feel you, every inch, every heartbeat." He drew back just enough to look at you, something raw and uncertain flickering in his eyes.

"If you're sure," he whispered, thumb stroking your cheek, "I want to take care of you. Let you shut everything else out—just feel me."

You nodded, breath catching. "I need you."

His breath shuddered out, the last thread of restraint snapping in his chest. With worship and heat in his eyes, Jack kissed you again—slower this time, deeper, as if trying to memorize the very shape of your mouth. Reaching over to the end table, you pulled out a condom wrapper and tore it open, your fingers trembling with anticipation.

With a breathless murmur of his name, you rolled it onto his length—slowly, deliberately—giving him a few teasing strokes first. His cock twitched in your hand, heavy and perfect, and your thumb brushed over the slick tip, spreading the pre-cum like a promise. Jack's breath caught, eyes dark as he watched you, jaw clenched with restraint, like you’d just lit a match in a room full of gasoline. 

He guided you down gently, his body pressing into yours, firm and certain, a grounding weight that promised not just desire, but devotion.

You moved first, hips sliding up and down in slow, deliberate strokes, and Jack almost exploded at how good you felt. Every part of him molded to you, surrounding you like safety and fire all at once. His hands cradled your face like something sacred, and the press of his chest against yours ignited sparks beneath your skin. You couldn't remember sex ever feeling like this—like your very soul was unraveling. It was almost a religious experience, divine and consuming, the way he fit with you, moved with you. It felt like surrender.

"Fuck." It punched out of Jack Abbot like a confession, like he’d been holding it in for months. You felt like pure velvet around him—tight, warm, impossibly soft, dragging him to the edge with every glide of your hips. His head tipped back for a moment, jaw clenched, trying to hold on. The sounds spilling from your lips—soft gasps, high whimpers, breathy moans—were branded into his memory already. God, he thought, if he could bottle them, he’d keep them forever. Hoard them. Pray to them for forgiveness. 

Your hands were grasping onto whatever they could—his shoulders, the cushions, the curve of his neck—anything to anchor yourself. When your nails dug into his back, Jack groaned low and deep, the sound vibrating against your skin like a warning and a reward. He definitely had a thing for rough, and that knowledge thrilled you.

You leaned in, breathless, and whispered praises against his ear—how good he felt, how perfect he was, how he filled you like no one else ever had.

"Please," you begged, voice shaking.

Jack groaned, the sound catching in his throat. "You’re everything I've ever dreamed of," he rasped, pressing his forehead to yours. "You feel like heaven."

Your nails raked down his back, and he hissed through clenched teeth, clearly loving it. "You take me so well," he murmured, lips brushing your temple, his hand smoothing along your spine. "So fucking good—perfect, you’re made for me."

"Jack—God, please—don’t stop," you whimpered, arching into him. His rhythm faltered for a heartbeat at your words, his grip on your waist tightening like a man barely holding on.

"Never," he whispered. "Gonna keep you like this. You're mine."

Each word wrapped around you like silk, the praise as intoxicating as the rhythm of his hips. You drank him in like water in a desert, letting it fill every hollow part of you until you were burning with it—consumed, adored, alive.

Jack shifted, pulling you with him, guiding you until your hands were braced against the couch and your body arched for him. The air thickened as he pressed behind you, one hand splaying over your lower back, the other skimming down to grip your hip firmly.

He slid back inside slowly, a groan torn from his throat at the new angle. "Fuck, look at you—" he breathed, eyes roaming over the arch of your spine, the flush of your skin.

Your breath caught at the intensity. He moved with purpose now, hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the dim light. His grip bruised in the best way, grounding you, guiding you, adoring you with every thrust.

Every movement lit you up, sending shocks through your body until you were keening, meeting him stroke for stroke. Jack leaned over you, one hand splaying across your lower back while the other slipped beneath to rub tight, teasing circles over your clit. The added pressure was too much, the timing of his thrusts too perfect. You were a whining mess, trembling and begging for release, the pleasure cresting like a tidal wave.

"That's it, baby," he groaned, his voice wrecked. "Let go for me. Give it to me."

You clawed at the cushions, barely able to hold yourself upright, your body burning at every point of contact. And when his teeth sank gently into your shoulder, scraping over sensitive skin and biting down with a growled praise, everything inside you shattered.

You came with a strangled cry, ears ringing, vision going white around the edges, the force of your orgasm crashing over you like fire and light. Jack held you steady, worshipful even now, as you pulsed around him—his voice in your ear, a low whisper of your name like a prayer he’d never stop saying. He pressed kisses down your shoulder blades, pausing to give you a break, his breath shaky with restraint.

Then, without a word, he gathered you into his arms, shifting you with care. He carried you up effortlessly, propping your legs over the edge of the couch so you were just hanging off, perfectly open for him. Nestled into the crook of your neck, Jack rocked into you with purpose, his thrusts slow but relentless, chasing his own release. Your hands wrapped protectively around his head, fingers stroking through his hair, grounding him.

"Are you going to fill me up?" you edged, voice breathless, lips brushing the shell of his ear. "Have me dripping for days so everyone knows who I belong to?"

"Jesus Christ, Y/N," he gasped.

That was it.

Jack shuddered, a low, desperate groan escaping him as he pressed himself deeper into you. He trembled, a broken moan tearing from his throat. His fingers clutched your thighs as he buried himself to the hilt, the sound of your voice—the permission, the trust—pushing him over the edge. His release surged through him, hips stuttering as he spilled into you, heart hammering as he held you close, breathless and undone. He collapsed gently against you, all tension melting as he pressed a kiss into your neck, lost in the aftershocks of something that felt like more than just pleasure.

A long moment passed before he pulled back just enough to look at you. His pupils were blown wide, the edges of his eyes glistening with overwhelmed want, cheeks flushed with effort and awe.

"What did I do to deserve you?" he murmured, cracking with disbelief. His gaze searched yours—earnest, sincere, undone. 

He leaned in again, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, as if he couldn't stop reassuring himself you were real. "You okay?" he asked softly, still breathing hard. "Was that too much?"

You smiled through the afterglow, brushing your fingertips over his jaw. "I've never felt anything like that. It was perfect."

Jack exhaled a shuddering breath of relief, then smiled too—soft and disbelieving, like he’d just found something sacred.

Later, after the two of you had cleaned up and slipped beneath the covers, the world slowed to a hush. Jack lay beside you, one arm tucked beneath your shoulders, the other lazily tracing shapes across your skin. Hearts, spirals, question marks—he wasn’t thinking, just moving, touching, grounding himself in your presence.

The silence between you was full—not empty—with comfort and understanding, the kind only found in someone who sees every scar and stays anyway.

Your body ached in the sweetest way, muscles languid and sated. You felt Jack’s chest rise and fall with slow, steady breaths against your back, the heat of his body a constant balm. You turned slightly to glance at him, catching the way his eyes fluttered closed, then opened again to meet yours.

"Stay with me?" you whispered, though it wasn’t really a question.

He leaned in, pressed a kiss to your temple. "Always."

Every quiet morning after that was a sort of miracle—waking tangled in his warmth, with the sun filtering through the curtains and the scent of coffee already brewing. Even the hardest days felt lighter, the sharp edges dulled by his steady presence, by the simple truth that he was yours, and you were his.

And in that stillness, that shared understanding, you knew: this was only the beginning.

[sexlapis]

[◉°] … Y/N & TOJI BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT… 537k views

⌦ 🎬 ⁺　　　.　　　　❀

꩜ actor! toji x actress! reader

⤷ synopsis : you & toji deny the dating rumours, but you’re both being a little bit too comfortable with each other for your relationship to be just “platonic”.

sfw, fluff, toji is a little ooc <3

. art credits to deltapork on twitter

.. inspired by this post

… part 2, part 3, part 4

masterlists

actor!toji masterlist

꩜ first clip

you & toji are in an interview, one to promote the upcoming release of the action movie you both star in where you’re the main love interest. it is bound to be a huge success, judging by the interest and how everyone loves the chemistry you and toji have both in and out of film!

the interviewer asks you a question and while you’re responding you can feel someone staring at you. you turn to your left where toji is sitting, and he has his eyes dead set on you, not looking away for one second. you turn your focus back to the interviewer to continue answering, but you can’t help but turn back and see that he is still staring at you with his intense blue eyes. you repeat this a few times before cutting off your own sentence with a giggle and covering your face with your hands.

toji chuckles in confusion, looking at the interviewer and then back at you, bewildered. “what-whats so funny?”

you look at toji with your hands still covering your face. “toji, i can’t concentrate when you look at me like that!”

toji tilts his head, swiftly shifting his chair in your direction and leans closer to you, practically nose to nose at this point. “like what?”

“like that!” you laugh, covering your hot face once more as he and the interviewer laugh at your actions.

the interviewer chimes in. “i do have to say, your eyes can be quite intimidating..”

“see?!” you say to toji and then look to the interviewer. “thank you.”

toji huffs and just looks at you. and you look back at him with a small grin on your face.

you speak. “as i was saying…”

you repeat your response to the question and toji exaggeratedly stares at you and you attempt to ignore it (and fail).

꩜ second clip

this was a behind the scenes clip, where your cast member is speaking about his characters relationship with the other main characters but sadly for him, that is not where the viewers’ attention was.

in the background, they see toji sitting on a couch looking at his phone and then you walking into frame. toji looks up from his phone, and if you look very closely, he can be seen smiling at you. you walk over and plop down on the couch right next to him. you both talk to each other for a few moments, faces close together and then you lay your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and taking what appears to be a nap. toji, moving as slowly as he can, takes a blanket that is already on the couch and drapes of over you. you snuggle closer to him, prompting toji to rest his head on top of yours. he does just that.

꩜ third clip

during an interview with you and the cast members, including toji, in front of a live audience, you somehow found yourselves on the topic of the types of cars you all have. you then remember how toji had told you about a motorcycle he owned, but you forgot which kind.

“i think i wanna ride on toji’s..motorcycle! i think-”

you hear the audience laugh and hear a few wolf whistles and you turn to your fellow actors, who are also laughing, especially gojo. you seem confused, but then you think back to what you said a second ago and feel your face heat up in embarrassment.

“oh, no no nonono-” shaking your head vehemently, “that is not-”

“toji’s motorcycle eh?” gojo teases while raising his eyebrows and wiggling his fingers, which only encourages the mockery and your desire to punch him.

you cover your face with your hand and sigh. “oh my god.”

while everybody in the room makes fun of you, you look to the left to see toji’s reaction and the camera pans to his smug smirking face.

“i mean i’m free friday night so..” he trails off, winks at you and the audience goes crazy and you shove your face in your hands.

“forget i even said anything!”

꩜ fourth clip

you and toji were recording a little vlog like video for the fans, talking about what it was like on set when you get onto the subject of what working with the other cast members is like.

“yeah gojo’s is pain in the ass.” toji states and shakes his head, fondly almost. “never stops running that big mouth ‘a his.”

spits of laughter fall from your mouth at his frankness. “uhh..yeah that’s true, gojo if you see this don’t be offended!”

“yeah we still like you we just..wish you’d shut the fuck up more often.”

“toji!” you gasp and slap his chest, “you’re no spring chicken either you know.”

toji scoffs and looks at you with a raised brow. “yeah, you’re a handful yourself.”

“what? no i’m not!” toji tilts his head and blinks. “everyone says i’m great to work with. you’re such a liar.” you roll your eyes with a laugh.

toji chuckles and moves closer to you on the sofa, and leans towards your face. “no ‘s alright. i have big hands.” he places a kiss on your cheek.

“ew, you’re so corny!” you lean away and wipe away his kiss, trying not to smile and look flustered.

꩜ fifth clip

this was a big day for y/n x toji lovers, when a movie you were both in won an award. now, neither of you were the main characters, but the fans made sure to make you both the most popular ones.

while the director is accepting the award, fans zoomed in on you and toji standing near the back of the group of cast members, where you’re tearing up and trying not to cry. you’re wiping your tears and toji looks at you and does a double take when he realises that you’re crying. he looks down at you and hugs you from the side, which makes you lay your head on his chest and wrap an arm around his waist. toji accepts this invitation and full on hugs you, kissing the top of your head softly and rubbing your back.

꩜ sixth clip

toji posts workout videos on his instagram stories. they’re mostly of him lifting weights and they’re rare, so fans cherish them.

and then theres a short video of you laying on top of toji’s back while he does pushups like it’s nothing. you’re smiling, spreading your arms out like you’re flying. toji suddenly starts going fast as fuck, making you bounce and almost fall off. you gasp and start hitting the back of his head while the person recording starts to laugh (most likely gojo).

you fall off toji’s back and lay on the floor like a starfish. the camera pans to a proud looking toji before you kick his face.

a/n: thank u for reading ^_-

[hard-core-super-star]

push me on the counter, call me princess [W.Maximoff; N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!wanda maximoff x sub!reader x dom!natasha romanoff

summary: you and wanda develop a connection you definitely shouldn't have with someone in a relationship. unbeknowst to you, it's all part of their plan.

warnings: PURE SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> mentions of cheating! [no actual cheating, though! wandanat have an agreement, R doesn't know about it until things get spicy]; mommy + daddy kink; nipple play; impact play; wanda using her powers to hold R down; fingering [R receiving]; oral [Nat receiving]; twinges of humiliation; degradation + praise; nat's a little mean but we love her for it; use of the term 'slut'; probably more but i forgot

wordcount: 3.3k

a/n: so...i'm technically not doing anything official for kinktober this year because school is kicking my butt already BUT i have a few ideas for some very filthy smut fics so i'll be posting them this month. i haven't written for wandanat in a minute so i hope i did them justice. please let me know your thoughts, i hope you enjoy <3

[part two | part three]

* * * * * * *

It was supposed to be a one time thing.

That's what you told Wanda when she pushed you against the farthest wall in some dingy, badly-lit, New York bar.

The two of you had come back from a long, draining, mission and, instead of staying at the Compound and actually resting, you decided to go out and get drunk to let off some steam. The mission had technically been a success, but it had also been a pain in the ass...and in the shoulder, thanks to the knife wound you'd received.

So, yeah, maybe going out wasn't the best idea in the first place.

In your defense, it was borderline impossible to say no to the witch. Mainly because she was very convincing when she wanted to be, but also because of your massive, and borderline ridiculous, crush on her.

To make matters worse, Wanda was pissed off at Natasha for...something and you ended up taking the place of a supportive partner.

It would have been fine had the drinks in your system not made your inhibitions lower significantly, which rendered you helpless against the green-eyed woman of your dreams. Then again, it's not like you were particularly against that idea in the first place.

Maybe that made you a horrible person.

Maybe that made Wanda a monster.

But how could she be one when she whispered the sweetest words in your ear while taking you over the edge and destroying you in the most pleasurable of ways? How could there be anything wrong about her soft caresses and gentle smiles?

A part of you knows the answer. It's wrong because the witch's heart isn't yours. Or worse, because someone else's heart belongs to the witch.

Because for all their problems and arguments, Wanda and Natasha love each other. At the very least, they tolerate each other enough to stay together.

And you don't fit into their relationship.

You shouldn't.

But Wanda isn't a person you can just ignore.

She makes that perfectly clear no less than a week after your little "mistake".

You're in the kitchen at the Compound, eating some leftovers and scrolling through your phone to keep yourself occupied, when Wanda walks in. You don't need to look at her to know she's pissed off. Her energy is way too heavy to mean anything else.

"Hey, Wands," you say, barely looking up from your phone out of fear of falling under her spell once more.

She walks over to you, leaning against the counter and silently watching you for a second. Her silence honestly scares you, but you don't question her yet. You know better than that.

"You've been avoiding me," she says, her voice soft yet not gentle. "Why is that?"

A shiver runs down your spine at the question. 

You know you can't lie to her, she's a freaking mind reader, but you can't exactly tell her the truth. You've both been trying to ignore it since the morning you woke up tangled together in her bed.

A bed she shares with someone who isn't you.

"I've been busy," you reply with a shrug. "Kate's been forcing me to train every day."

Clearly, that's the wrong answer, considering the tilt of her head.

Yup. You're fucked now.

"Is that so? I didn't realize you two were such good...friends."

Wanda pushes herself off the counter, taking slow, calculated, steps until she's standing behind you. If you weren't so focused on keeping your voice steady, you might have been able to guess what her plan in.

"Well, we both love annoying Clint and making Yelena mad."

She hums in response as her arms wrap themselves around you, pulling you back until you're firmly pressed against her. 

The action almost makes you fall off your stool. You somehow stay put, though, even as every fiber of your being tells you to leave. The harsh truth is that you don't want to leave.

You want her so badly that the consequences don't seem to matter.

Nothing matters but her.

Which is exactly what she wants.

"You should be careful with the little archer," she says, her hands not so subtly caressing your sides. "You know she's just going to use you then throw you away when she's bored."

The irony in her words isn't lost on you.

You open your mouth to let her know that when her hands move up and brush against your chest. It takes all your willpower to stop yourself from gasping.

"Wanda," you hiss. "We're in the middle of the kitchen."

"Relax, detka," she whispers into your ear, your body instantly obeying her words. "You know I won't let anyone see."

"Do I?" you reply. "Because it seems exactly like something you'd enjoy."

The witch chuckles despite herself. "That's true but you're not the only trying to keep things a secret."

You know her words should make you feel worse about this whole thing but right now, they only serve to turn you on. As messed up as it is, there's something exciting about the situation. 

About how much Wanda wants you.

So, even though you know you should push her away, you lean back against her, allowing her hands to explore your body however she wishes.

Your obedience (if you can even call it that) is instantly rewarded by the other woman. Her hands sneak their way under your shirt, her fingers drawing teasing shapes on your warm skin as she makes the journey upward.

"You're such a good girl for me, baby," she mumbles almost absent-mindedly. "Letting me use you like this. Letting me play with you whenever I want."

A part of you wants to put up a fight. To show her you have a bigger backbone than she realizes. That you're able to switch the tables on her whenever you want.

Unfortunately, that part of you goes quiet the second her fingers find your nipples. "Look at you, all ready for me, huh?"

"Shut up," you mumble as your cheeks heat up.

Your words of defiance earn you a sharp pinch to your already sensitive nipples. "Watch your mouth, sweetheart."

It's impossible to stop your back from arching as the leftover sting rushes through your system. You'd learned the hard way that Wanda could either be the sweetest or the most unforgivable lover. In a way, it made being with her all the more exciting...and unpredictable.

Then again, you can't pretend you don't like it. If you didn't, you would have never gotten mixed up with her in the first place.

"Sorry," you whisper, not sounding particularly sincere.

If Wanda notices, she doesn't point it out and instead goes right back to playing with your chest, squeezing and pinching your nipples as she pleases.

Her actions only serve to make you more and more desperate for her. It's almost embarrassing how good she is at reading you. At knowing exactly what buttons to push to turn you into a shaking, pleading mess.

A part of you knows it's thanks to her powers that she can read your desires so well, but you ignore the thought for now. You could beat yourself up over all this later, right now, you had a very important task ahead of you.

"You're eager today," she teases, her eyes zeroing in on the slight movement of your hips. "Did you miss me that much?"

You're not sure why you're in such a defiant mood today but your mouth moves way faster than your thoughts. "Yeah, Kate was too busy today."

You don't see the scarlet that begins to overtake her eyes since you have your back to her. You miss the warning signs until she uses her magic to bend you over the counter, keeping your hands behind your back.

"You're going to regret talking to me like that," she says, holding you down easily thanks to her magic.

It's obvious you should apologize and yet you remain as composed as you possibly can given the situation. As stupid as it is, you're still mad at her for putting you in this situation.

Out of the two of you, she was the one who was in the wrong. She was the one fucking up her relationship just because she was upset with her girlfriend. And she had the audacity to pull you down with her.

To make you like it.

You couldn't place all the blame on her and yet you did it anyway. As if that would somehow fix the entire situation.

Her hand comes down on your ass before you can make your predicament worse. The sudden sensation makes you jump, the leftover sting taking over your mind.

"Wanda." Your attempt to sound mad falls completely flat since your voice is far too breathless for it to be convincing.

She spanks you again. Once. Twice. Each time striking both harder and faster.

"Try again, detka," she tells you, her voice unforgiving. "And then maybe, I'll go easy on you."

She won't.

You know she won't. But the idea that she could is more than tantalizing enough.

Although, then again, it wasn't like you didn't enjoy calling her by her beloved title.

"Mommy," you whisper, your voice sounding way too loud in the empty kitchen.

You don't need to be looking at her to see the proud grin that takes over her features.

This is the real reason why she wants you. Why she likes being with you. Because she doesn't need to fight you to get you to submit to her every whim.

"Good girl." Wanda's hands toy with the waistband of your pants. "Tell me what you want."

You allow the silence to drag on for a second longer than necessary. You both know you won't deny her, you can't, but that doesn't mean you can't keep her guessing. 

Maybe then she'll grow tired of you and stop using you so carelessly.

"Want you to touch me...please, mommy."

You half expect her to drag the moment out until you can't hold yourself back from begging for more. For her.

She doesn't, though, because unbeknownst to you, she's playing a different kind of game with you today.

Wanda uses her powers to undress you, barely giving you a second to register just how vulnerable she's leaving you. You know no one will walk in on you two, she promised you that much, but that doesn't make it any less scary...and thrilling.

"Look at you," she coos, her fingers spreading your slick folds. "So wet and I've barely even touched you. Such a needy thing, aren't you, sweetheart?"

It's embarrassing how hard your walls clench around pure air from the mere tone of her voice. It's that intoxicating mix between degrading and sweet that you want everything she's willing to give you.

"Yes, mommy," you whimper.

"Oh, I know," she says, pushing the tip of her index finger into your tight cunt. "She's such a good girl, isn't she?"

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but her powers hold you down and stop you from turning to look at her. Your question is answered before you can even ask it, though, as a certain pair of black boots make their way into your field of vision.

"I'm not sure." The sound of Natasha's voice sends a shiver down her spine. "She looks like a desperate slut to me."

Wanda stops you from answering, thanks to her powers. "Oh, come on, Nat, don't be mean. Look how eager she is to be played with."

The redhead rolls her eyes. "That just proves my point."

The witch laughs, taking the moment to sink her finger deeper into your pussy, relishing the wet sounds that fill the kitchen. You're more than a little humiliated, but there's nothing you can do to stop it. Worse, there's nothing you can do to deny how wet the situation is making you.

How desperate you are for more.

Wanda knows. Of course, she knows. It's partly because of her powers and partly because she knows your body far too well. And because she knows you so well, she gives you a chance to call the whole thing off before it even truly starts.

"What's your color, y/n?"

It would be so easy to say "red" and stop everything. You know there would be zero judgement. That despite whatever agreement they've come to, they'd both take a step back and make sure you were okay.

And yet...you can't seem to form the word.

Because, as much as you don't want to admit it...you want this.

"Green..." you whisper.

Wanda leans in, taking your mind off of Natasha's eyes on you, and peppers soft kisses across your back. The softness of her lips is a stark contrast to her previous demeanor and it helps calm down your speeding nerves.

The Russian steps forward, her hand cupping your face and gently tilting it backward until your eyes meet. "You want this, don't you, darling?"

You don't want to admit it but you can't bring yourself to lie to her. "Yes...I want this."

The sharpness in her eyes fades away slightly. There's still an edge of annoyance in her features but she looks almost as turned on as you feel. "Good girl."

Your walls clench around Wanda's finger and she chuckles before starting to move in and out of your tight heat. "I think she likes you, Nat."

"Shut up."

Wanda adds another finger into the mix, expertly stretching you out and drawing out a long moan from your parted lips. "That's it, just give in, sweetheart. Doesn't it feel better when you stop thinking so much?"

It's startling how right she is.

She doesn't wait for an answer this time, though, she simply speeds up her movements, curling her fingers in the way that drives you crazy. The pleasure slowly overwhelms your mind, removing all other thoughts until all you can focus on is how good it all feels. How much you like submitting to them like this.

"Mommy..." You whine, watching the way Natasha's eyes darken in response to your sounds. "Please...need more."

"Aw, are two fingers not enough for you, baby?" The fake pity in her tone turns you on more than it should. "Does your greedy pussy need more?"

You nod desperately, ignoring the humiliation that lingers in your every move.

All that earns you is another laugh from Wanda and an eye roll from Natasha.

The redhead steps back from you, causing you to whimper, before her hands move to her belt. Her eyes remain on yours as she starts removing her garments, slowly revealing the red strap-on resting between her legs.

Your lips part almost instantly once you catch sight of the full size of it and just how incredibly dominant it makes Natasha look. You shouldn't be surprised considering what everyone, including Wanda, always say about her. Then again, seeing is believing.

"So fucking eager, aren't you?" You know the Russian is technically making fun of you, but you can't help feeling a bit proud of yourself for the grin on her face.

She steps forward, her hands coming up to tangle in your hair and guide you forward. There's something weirdly soft about her movements, about the way she takes her time with you. Maybe, just maybe, she likes you more than she's let on.

You wrap your lips around the head of the dildo, your eyes glued to Natasha's face. You can see the flecks of pleasure spreading across her features, the way she clenches her jaw to stop herself from vocalizing it. It's like you're stuck in a far too arousing competition with her. Each of you trying your damn harderst to break the other.

Unfortunately for you, you also have Wanda working behind you, her fingers restlessly pumping in and out of your soaked entrance. She knows exactly how to wind you up. 

Exactly how to keep you on your toes yet wanting more.

Natasha guides you further down her cock, working the length deeper into your mouth. "You look so much better like this, malyshka."

"I told you," Wanda pipes up, choosing that exact moment to work another finger into your tight heat. "You just wanted to be a party pooper."

"Keep talking like that and you'll be next, Maximoff."

"You're no fun."

You've never heard Wanda like this. So pouty and borderline bratty. It's a stark contrast to the dominant woman you've grown so attached to. To the one that turns your brain to putty with just a few words.

"Don't get any ideas, sweetheart. Mommy's still in charge here."

You moan in response, the sound muffled by the dildo currently stuffing your mouth.

"If you're Mommy," Natasha says, starting to thrust into your mouth. "Does that make me Daddy?"

You try to voice your approval for the title but neither of the women pay attention to you. They just keep talking like you're not even there, like all you are is a toy for them to play with.

"I thought you didn't like being called that."

The redhead shrugs in response. "I don't but now I'm curious."

"I think our good girl would like it."

You wait for Natasha to complain and say something about how you aren't theirs. Maybe make fun of you again for even thinking they'd ever entertain that idea.

She doesn't, though.

All she does is double her efforts as she keeps thrusting into your mouth. 

The kitchen fills with the sounds of your pleasure as they both play with your needy holes.

You feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge, the coil in your stomach getting tighter with each one of their well-timed thrusts. You're completely at their mercy and you love every second of their never-ending show of dominance.

Of control over you.

Wanda's movements speed up and you do your best to ask for permission to cum, knowing all too well the consequences that would await you if you forgot. It's practically impossible to speak, though, considering the way Natasha is still thrusting into your mouth, her hips grinding against the base of the dildo each time she slips the length back inside.

"I know, baby," the witch reassures you. "You want to cum so bad, don't you?"

All she gets is a muffled whine in response, your body jerking forward when her thumb teases your swollen clit.

"Go ahead, darling," Natasha speaks up, her voice practically a low growl. "Cum all over Mommy's fingers for me."

You're not used to receiving such a command from the redhead and yet your body reacts immediatly to her tone. Your whole body seems to come alive as you fall over the edge, Wanda's fingers never ceasing in their movements. She expertly draws out your pleasure until you're left shaking and panting. 

The ringing in your ears doesn't allow you to hear the string of moans that leave Natasha's mouth as she watches the scene. The sight of you coming undone so violently causes her to fall apart, her fingers tightening in your hair until you're sputtering for air.

Thankfully, Wanda knows your limits well.

No words are exchanged as she uses her magic on you again. You're barely coherent, your mind still too muddled by pure pleasure and the cotton-filled haze of submission.

She gently sets you down on the couch, wiping down your soaked skin with a wet cloth, making sure to look you over in case their rough movements bruised you up.

"You okay, darling?" The witch asks as she settles down next to you.

You nod in response, shifting a little until your head rests in her lap. "Yeah...just tired."

"You should get some rest, detka. We have a lot to talk about."

Her words make you laugh. "That's an understament, Wands."

"Whatever." She moves her hand down to run her fingers through your hair, gently scratching your scalp as sleep overcomes you.

There's a lot you don't understand, a lot you really figure out, but you feel safe with the knowledge that you haven't ruined anything. That you're not an intruder in their relationship. If anything, you're a welcome addition.

[covenofagatha]

hey!! can you do one where you run into professor agatha at the library while doing homework and it ends with her making you sit on her cock without moving while you study and you're impatient and she ends up fucking you right there in thar secluded corner (with lots of overstimulation and daddy kink if you're comfortable with that?)

Inspiration struck for this one today so hope everyone enjoys

I just started a new semester so probably won't be posting as much but I will do my best to keep writing and putting stuff out regularly. Also will be pausing any Agathario x reader fics for the moment

Learning to focus

When you run into Professor Harkness at the local library while you're supposed to be working on a project for her history class, you find yourself distracted by her (again)

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: public sex, GP Agatha, fingering, cockwarming, daddy kink, overstimulation, it really was agatha all along, slight humiliation?, hints of degradation

The Westview University campus library is always packed, so you usually opt for the local library about twenty minutes away from the school. 

Much quieter and way less crowded. 

And you don’t have to worry about running into any failed situationships or crazy roommates from past years. 

Plus it’s a really nice library, two stories with long glass windows stretching from the ceiling to the floor. Even when you don’t have school work, you often enjoy coming here just to read or play on your computer. It’s a peaceful place, a place that lets you just relax and forget about the outside world and all the stress you feel. 

Stress mainly from one class. Your history class. 

Professor Agatha Harkness was the only one who taught U.S. History when your schedule could allow it, which meant you had to ignore all the bad reviews on RateMyProfessor.com, because you had no other option. 

On the first day, you could see exactly where they came from. 

One boy had shown up five minutes late, practically a miracle on the first day of classes, stammering an excuse about how bad traffic was, Professor Harkness had fixed him with a glare and told him that he better drop the class. 

You were just thankful that you had a class before hers, otherwise you would’ve been late, too. 

She was just as mean and ruthless and cold as everyone said she’d be. Her assignments were almost outrageous and she graded them so harshly it was honestly impressive you weren’t failing yet. 

But the one thing the reviews forgot to mention was how attractive she is. Her long, dark hair that she’d often keep back in a ponytail. Her sharp blue eyes that reminded you of the ocean on a dark night. Her high cheekbones, her pointed nose, her wicked smirk, honestly, everything about her. 

You suppose the more impressive thing is that you aren’t failing with how often you get distracted by the way her fingers on her left hand tighten around the dry-erase marker when she’s drawing time-lines on the board. When she sways her hips and flexes her knuckles which tightens her veins, you feel a tugging in your gut and you have to bite your lip. 

And you definitely should not be noticing the bulge in her pants when she sits back with her legs spread in her chair while the class is taking an exam. 

You have an optimal seat, all the way to the right of her desk and in the front row, so you can take her in without her noticing you too much. 

If anyone looked too closely at you, they’d assume you were sweating because of the forty-five multiple choice and five written questions you had to answer in only a little over an hour. 

That wasn’t it. 

You swore she saw you looking one time, one particular day when she was wearing a blue flannel and loose fitting cargo pants. You were staring, so completely distracted when you should’ve been taking notes that you didn’t even notice she had dismissed the class. 

It wasn’t until you finally realized that she was stalking toward you that you had fucked up. You had swallowed roughly and moved to shove your stuff into your bag when she had put her hands on your desk and leaned in, causing you to completely forget how to breathe. 

“You seemed a little preoccupied there,” she murmured in a low voice, her hint of cologne tickling your nose. “Try to pay better attention next time. Don’t want to have to teach you a lesson.”

You had promptly nodded and almost ran to your dorm to fuck yourself to the thought of her teaching you a very different kind of lesson. 

Professor Harkness is in your head, and you can’t get her out no matter how hard you try. Except right now, you really need to focus, because the end-of-semester project is due in a week and you haven’t started. 

Did she give you the entire four months of the course to complete it? Yes. But you have never been good at working ahead or at time management. 

She had assigned a ten page paper along with a hand-drawn timeline about something that had happened in the history of the United States. You had picked the Salem Witch Trials, and Professor Harkness had winked when you got the topic approved by her. 

So you’re about to spend the next probably five hours in the library trying to make some headway on this project. The timeline should be easy, but it’s the paper you’re worried about. 

You go up the stairs and wind through the aisles of books on the second floor until you get to your secluded corner, the one you always go to, the one with a small table and two chairs hidden by bookshelves and gasp. 

Your favorite spot has been taken by none other than Professor Harkness. She’s sitting in the chair you usually sit in, pen between her teeth, staring at papers. 

When she looks up, she doesn’t even seem surprised to see you and a slow grin spreads over her face. 

“Professor, what are you doing here?” You ask, fiddling with the straps on your tote bag. Should you go somewhere else?

She chuckles. “In a public library in the town where I live?” 

Your cheeks burn. “Right. Um, I’ve just never seen you here before.” And then you inwardly kick yourself because now it sounds like you’ve been on the lookout. 

“Wanted to get out of the house,” she shrugs. “Have some papers to grade for that project due next week. How’s yours coming?” 

“Oh, really good,” you lie, shifting your weight and trying to think of a quick way to get out of this conversation. “Almost done. Well, I don’t want to bother–” 

She interrupts you by sliding the chair out next to her and patting it. “Why don’t you come show me what you have? I can give you some help, free of charge.” She winks, a glint in her eyes, and it makes your stomach twist. 

“Oh, Professor, that’s not necessary,” you say nervously but she tsks and waves dismissively. 

“Please, call me Agatha. It’s the weekend and we’re off campus. Now, come sit.” She makes it clear it’s an order and you gulp before taking the seat. Even being this close to her is affecting your body and you know there’s absolutely no way you’re getting anything done. 

She’s currently grading a paper about the Boston Massacre and it’s drenched in red ink. You’re not sure which you feel more of: annoyance at your over-achieving classmates or absolute dread for how Agatha is going to react when she finds out that you haven’t even started and, even worse, lied about it. 

You take a shaky breath, feeling her intense gaze on you. “So, the thing is…” You trail off, reaching down to pull out your laptop. You set it on the table and slowly open it, silently begging for the floor underneath you to open up and swallow you whole. 

Anything would be better than this humiliation. 

“Yeah?” Agatha breathes, suddenly much closer to you. You will your eyes to not look away from the computer screen and type in your password, praying that you didn’t leave anything that embarrassing up. 

It opens up to the blank document titled Salem Witch Trials, just so it’s clear to Agatha what exactly this page was supposed to be. 

You’d rather it have been porn. 

Your professor chuckles slowly next to you. “Thought you were almost done?” She simpers in that gruff voice that drives you wild. “Did you get distracted again?” 

Agatha leans forwards, resting her elbow on the table, and perching her head in her hand so she can peer at you. Your eyes glance over to meet hers and then back to your computer, but in your peripheral vision, you can see her body tilt toward yours and her legs open just the slightest. 

Your mouth runs dry and you make a pointed effort not to look between them. 

“What’s gotten you so preoccupied, babygirl?” She asks and you clench around nothing at the shift in tone and the pet name. Holy fuck. “I’ve seen you staring in class, you know. You’re not very subtle at all.” 

Forget being swallowed by the floor, you might just combust out of pure embarrassment. 

You try to stammer out something, an apology maybe, sorry for wanting to fuck you, Professor, but no sounds come out of your mouth. Her other hand comes up and teases a lock of your hair and you finally work up the courage to look at her. 

Agatha’s eyes are heated and dark, all the blue practically gone, and her lips are parted just so. And then you flick your eyes down to between her legs involuntarily and you have to bite back a whimper because she’s fucking hard. 

You can see her length through her navy pants and your brain short-circuits. Agatha likes this. Agatha likes you. 

“Is that what gets you all hot and bothered? Can’t focus because you’re too busy staring at me?” Agatha asks, hand dropping to palm herself. She gives her dick a quick stroke and lets out a tight sigh and you have to hold onto the table to steady yourself. 

Heat rushes through your body in an almost unbearable way. “Yes,” you whisper hoarsely. 

Agatha takes her hand off herself and taps a finger to her lips. “Hmm,” she draws out thoughtfully. You can feel a puddle growing in your underwear. “You know, I’m used to the crushes. Doesn’t even phase me anymore, usually it’s college girls who are just so desperate for attention. Not getting it anywhere else and they think that their fifty year old professor will be into them.” 

Your jaw clenches. Is this the part where she rejects you? 

But Agatha smirks and looks you up and down, takes in your squirming body in the chair. “And I never have even considered it. Until you. None of them have been as delicious as you, pet.” 

And it makes your head spin. It’s almost as if you’re in a trance when your hand grabs onto her thigh and Agatha lets out a low moan. 

“Please,” you say, desperation in your voice. What are you asking for? You don’t even think you know. 

Agatha tuts. “Do you really think you deserve anything? This paper is due in a week and you haven’t even started. Doesn’t seem like you should get a reward for procrastinating, does it?” 

“It’s not my fault,” you whine before you can even think about it. There’s something about this side of Agatha specifically that makes your mind turn to mush. 

She raises an eyebrow like she’s daring you to say that again. “I think you need to learn how to keep that pretty head of yours focused.” She nods to the computer screen. “Make an outline.”

You swallow roughly and straighten up, putting your hands on the keyboard. You’ve just switched tabs and begun googling “Salem Witch Trials” when Agatha’s hand lands on your upper thigh. 

You freeze and glance at her out of the corner of your eye to find her scribbling another note on the paper in front of her. You don’t know how she’s so calm and collected when you feel like your entire body is on fire. 

“Focus,” she tells you in that deep voice of hers and you click on the first result that comes up as her fingers begin to toy with the hem of your skirt. 

You try, you really do try, but it’s so fucking hard to read the words on the screen when she’s inching closer and closer to your underwear, which you can feel is absolutely drenched. 

And soon enough, she’s going to feel it, too. You can almost hear her dark laugh already when she realizes just how affected you are. 

Her fingertips brush against you and instead of laughing, she gasps. “Oh, pet, no wonder you never pay attention in class,” she coos and a thrill runs through you despite how embarrassed you are. She effortlessly finds your clit through the fabric and rubs it and you have to sink your teeth into your bottom lip so you don’t make a sound. 

“Agatha,” you say under your breath and you can practically hear her smirking. Why is it so hot that she is still grading the paper as she starts to run her fingers up and down your pussy over your underwear? She dips in at your entrance and a muffled groan tears itself out of your mouth. 

“Is this what you’re like while I’m teaching, too?” She muses conversationally, but you look down just in time to see her cock twitch in her pants. It makes you feel even more exhilarated, knowing she’s just as affected. But then she moves your panties to the side and slides her fingers through your folds and you forget any train of thought you had. You really hope your wetness isn’t as loud as it sounds. “Dripping for me like a little slut? Getting yourself all worked up when I’m talking about the Declaration of Independence? It’s pathetic.” 

You whimper, maybe in agreement, maybe at how good it feels when she pushes a finger into you, but her eyes slightly glaze over at the feeling of your warm walls around her. 

“God, Agatha,” you moan, your own hand coming down to wrap around her wrist when she starts moving. You can feel her flexing with each thrust and your tongue presses against your cheek as you breathe heavily, leaning toward her. 

She presses a quick kiss to your head and scrapes her teeth against your ear before hotly whispering, “Better be quiet, babygirl. And focus. Or I’ll stop.”

You manage to type out three bullet points worth of information when she slips another finger into you and you clamp a hand over your mouth before you moan obscenely. 

Agatha leans over to read what you have so far. “Who was the first woman to be executed for witchcraft?” She asks and you realize that you never finished that sentence. 

“Bridget Bishop,” you gasp, and she swipes at your clit as a reward, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. 

You continue to type, hoping it’s making sense because you can’t even comprehend the words, while Agatha continues to twist her fingers inside you roughly and rub your clit. You can feel your orgasm slowly building, and it only makes it worse every time Agatha hums right into your ear at something you’ve written. Your walls are clenching around her, trying to draw her even further into you, and she can tell you’re getting close, you’re going to cum so quickly around her fingers. 

“There we go pet, such a good girl for Daddy,” she says into your ear and you spasm all around her, the name sending you right over the edge. 

Who knew you’d like that so much? 

Apparently Agatha did, who grins like a cat getting her cream as she fucks you through your orgasm with her fingers, keeping a steady rhythm on your clit. You taste blood from biting your lip so hard but you manage to keep quiet and you finally come down from your high. 

But it’s not enough, you need more, and judging by the straining of Agatha’s cock against her pants, she needs more, too. 

You move to touch her but she slaps your hand away. “Not yet,” she growls and it sends another blast of heat through you. You think there might be a wet spot on the chair underneath you. 

It only makes it worse when she reaches down and undoes her own belt, fiddles with the button exasperatedly, and finally unzips her pants. She reaches inside and your jaw drops open when she pulls out her hard and leaking cock. It’s big, big enough to make your mouth water, and it almost looks painful. Agatha gives herself a few strokes, hips jumping, and she hisses when she rubs her thumb over the tip. 

“Think you can focus while you sit on Daddy’s cock, babygirl?” She taunts. You’ve never felt so empty in your life, you need her so bad, and she’s right there. 

You almost want to bend down and take her into your mouth, taste her hard cock. 

“I asked you a question,” she reminds you roughly, slapping your thigh to get your attention. The sting makes you jump. “God, you really do get distracted easily.” 

You mumble an apology, cheeks flushing. “I can focus, I promise,” you say, trying to sound convincing, but neither of you believe it. Regardless, she smirks and pats her legs and you do a cautious sweep of the surrounding area. This is incredibly dangerous and if you get caught, you both will get in serious trouble. 

But for some reason, the thrill of getting caught only turns you on more. 

So you stand up and straddle her and sit down, taking her cock in one fell swoop. She goes in easy with how wet you are and you bottom out in her lap, the both of you groaning quietly with restraint. 

“Fuck, babygirl,” you hear Agatha huff and you squeeze your walls around her in response. It makes her thrust up and you inhale sharply at the feeling. She is so big and you can feel her throbbing inside you. “Better keep working.” 

You lean forward slowly to move your laptop closer, the stretch absolutely delicious and she chuckles when you gasp as you settle back onto her. Agatha wraps her arms around your waist and you really do try to be good and focus, but every so often, she shifts beneath you and it hits that spot so deep inside you and you can’t help but squirm to try and get more. 

Would she notice if you slowly start moving? Most likely, but it’s worth the risk. You give the gentlest roll of your hips and Agatha moans low into your ear before her fingernails dig into your hips through your skirt to still you. “Don’t even think about it,” she whispers dangerously so you’re forced to sit without moving on her cock that is filling you up better than anything ever has before. 

It’s sweet torture and you write a few more sentences before you can feel your wetness dripping down her cock and out of you. Every so often, you’ll clench around her, too, completely involuntarily, of course, and she’ll buck into you like she can’t help it while breathing suddenly. You’re not sure how much longer of this you can take, the ache spreading everywhere in your body and absolutely ruining you. 

“Agatha,” you whine again, begging, starting to move despite her death-like grip on your waist. 

She moves your hair to the side and nips at your neck. “Yes, babygirl?” 

“Can you please–” you begin, frustration leaking into your voice, tears pricking in your eyes. “Can you please move? Please, I need it so bad. I’m trying so hard to focus, please, can you fuck me? Daddy–”

Turns out, all you needed to convince her was to call her that, because she finally breaks and starts thrusting her hips up and pounding her cock into you. Your hand flies over your mouth and you bite onto a finger to stop yourself from crying out and you wish you weren’t in a library right now, rather be in the comfort of Agatha’s bed or car or office or anywhere but here, so you could be as loud as you want. 

“Let’s see if you’re still distracted after Daddy fucks all the thoughts out of your head,” she snaps and fuck, you’re already so close after cockwarming her for those few minutes. She reaches around you with a hand to circle your clit, which is already sensitive from your previous orgasm and a muffled sound escapes you. Agatha laughs breathlessly and you strain your ears to hear if anyone is coming near you – not that you could do anything about it now – but there’s nothing. 

Thank god this is a relatively empty library, especially at this time of the day, and that the two of you are tucked away in the back where it’s hard to see normally. 

Agatha’s thrusts are getting so powerful that you’re forced to put your hands out on the table for balance which means it gets a lot harder to control your noises. But your professor, ever the problem-solver, comes up with a solution. 

She slides two fingers into your mouth so you can suck on them and so your moans are stifled. Agatha presses her fingers against your tongue, scrapes her nails against it, and draws them out before shoving them back in, effectively fucking both your mouth and your pussy. 

“You feel so good, babygirl, so fucking tight,” she pants into your ear and you gag when she pushes her fingers down your throat. 

It’s so much, so much stimulation from her cock and her fingers and the fact that you’re being fucked in a public library where anyone could see that your orgasm hits you out of nowhere and it’s explosive. You sink your teeth into her skin and she moans, almost being louder before she remembers to control herself. 

You need a moment to collect yourself, but she doesn’t give it to you; instead, she shoves you off her lap and stands up right behind you without her cock ever leaving your body. 

Agatha bends you over the table, hand pressing against your back, and you have just enough awareness to move your laptop out of the way before she sets a bruising pace. The table must be bolted down to the floor or something, because it thankfully doesn’t move. 

Agatha grunts softly with each thrust and you can feel her twitching inside you even though it feels like every single one of your nerves is on fire. 

“Daddy, I don’t know if I can again,” you quietly sob, the pleasure fraying your mind, the sensitivity of your clit making you gasp when she rubs it. You feel like you’re drifting away from your body, dizziness swarming your head. “Too much,” you babble. 

But she doesn’t slow down. If anything, she picks up her speed and tears fall from your eyes. “You can, babygirl, I know you can. You can take it – fuck, you feel so good around me.” 

Agatha losing her composure because of you, just knowing you have that kind of affect on someone usually so cold and unaffected, is starting to build your orgasm back up. 

“Daddy,” you whine, trying to be as quiet as you can. Her rhythm is starting to falter, she’s throbbing and twitching and cursing, fingers scrambling for purchase on your hips, and you know she’s getting close. 

“So perfect, babygirl,” she mutters and you know she’s refraining from being louder, too. “I’ve wanted you for so long, ever since the first day when you walked into my classroom wearing that short skirt.” 

The confession makes you clench and a gasp escapes your lips. You’re climbing closer and closer to the edge and Agatha isn’t far behind. 

“Knew I had to have you,” she keeps going and your body is practically vibrating. 

She’s pounding into you so deep, filling you so good, her cock dragging against your walls in the best way. Her ragged words are getting to her, too; you can tell in the way her thrusts become shallower and shorter like she can’t do anything more. 

You’d make a quip about her being distracted but you can’t form a sentence right now. Every thought in your head is gone. 

“Daddy knows you come here,” she continues and your eyes roll back into your head. You don’t even think you can understand her. You’re close, so close. “Knew you hadn’t started on the project. Knew you’d be here – fuck, babygirl.” She breaks off with a sharp inhale as you squeeze around her at her words. 

This whole thing was planned. She’s wanted you just as badly as you’ve wanted her. And now she’s fucking you against a table in a library because of it. 

She reaches around and rubs your clit and that’s it. 

You cum all over her cock, walls convulsing around her, and she quickly follows, pumping her cum into you. You feel her warmth spreading through you and it makes you gasp. 

Thankfully she pulls out because you truly can’t take anymore and she slides your underwear back into place before her cum can drip down your legs. She turns you around after zipping her pants back up and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“You okay?” She murmurs and you weakly nod. “Is that pretty head of yours clear now? Think you can focus?” 

The question makes you laugh. There are no thoughts left in your head whatsoever. “You do know that I’m only going to be thinking about this in your classes right? You just made the problem ten times worse.” 

Agatha smirks and taps under your chin. “Tell you what, pet. For each day early you turn this project in, that’s one more reward you’ll get.” 

And even though you’re completely worn out, your clit pulses at the thought of more. 

“Think you’ll be able to focus now?” Agatha asks sweetly. You nod eagerly, your brain suddenly able to piece together how you’re going to structure your paragraphs, and she chuckles. “It’s all about finding the right motivation. I look forward to seeing your final project.” She winks, packs up her stuff, and then walks away. 

You sit down in the chair, making a mental note to clean that and the table before you leave, and open your laptop back up. 

Cracking your knuckles, you get to work, suddenly able to focus so much better now. 

[darnell-la]

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗧 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗞𝗘 𝗢𝗨𝗧 (sᴍᴜᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ)

pairing: dark!project x!wolverine x government employee!reader

warnings: held to work, reader on her period, project x gone wild, killing, hunting/sniffing down, rough sex, oral (fem receiving), creampie, kidnapped, new life, etc.

note: we wish…

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

————————————————————————

𝟯𝗥𝗗 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗣𝗢𝗩

Y/n ran faster after hearing the guard and then yelled right after. She knew Project X had killed them. She was scared she was next.

As Logan was fighting, he was fixated on sniffing y/n out. He knew which way she ran, but had to track her down from the way she smelt.

Every second that passed, she smelt better. He’s never smelt that smell in his life, yet, he needed it like he’s had it every day of his life.

Y/n finally made it to her room, closing and locking her door. She hoped he didn’t know where she slept. He shouldn’t. He’s never been outside of that room.

As time went by, it got quiet. The guards yelling at least. The alarms were still going off, but at least the yelling was gone, right? That means they got him. Right?

Y/n said on her bed, looking at the door to be prepared, but nothing happened. No one was near, she thought.

The young lady sighed as she turned her head. As soon as her eyes left the door, it was kicked open. Y/n screamed as she jumped further onto her bed, head turning towards the door.

“Augh,” he growled low with a smirk as he fixed his posture and walked into y/n’s room slowly. How did he know where she was? The man closed the girl's door, locking it, which she thought was going to be impossible by the way he kicked it open.

She thought kicking it open was impossible, but forgot, the door was light metal. Metal he would definitely be able to get through.

“P-Please don’t hurt me. Please! I-I’ll do anything! I’ll break you out. I swear!” Y/n said as her back hit the wall as she stayed on her bed. He ignored her offer, still grinning at her as he stepped closer.

“Please — What do you want from me!?” She yelled at him, pissed off that he won’t speak. Why is he coming after her? How did he find her?

Without answering her, Logan lunged at her. She screamed in the most horrific scream she’s ever screamed. She thought her life was over until he heard the man laugh.

Y/n’z eyes opened looking at what he was laughing at. He was laughing at her. Was he going to laugh while he shredded her body?

“What are you laughing at? Just get it over it!” She yelled in his face. He liked how feisty she got. Actually, he loved how feisty she was. Even though he hated how he got, it looked hot on her. Watching her yell, turned him on even more.

Logan ignored her again as he slowly moved down her body. She watched him, looking directly into his eyes, not knowing what he was going to do.

That was until he sniffed and groaned with his eyes shut tightly. “That’s where it’s comin’ from,” his raspy voice spoke before he ripped at y/n’s work jeans. They were thick, but no match for him.

Y/n screamed, shook at his actions and even his sentence became he’s never spoken around her. She was convinced he couldn’t speak.

Y/n thought she couldn’t be more surprised until the muscular and sweaty man ripped her panties off. She went to yell at him, but her voice got trapped in her mouth after he buried his face in between her thighs.

Y/n’s back arched, not able to speak for the first few seconds until she finally let out a loud moan, eyes rolling back to the point it slightly hurt.

“F-Fuck!” She screamed, head finally popping up to look down and in between her legs. “Fuck — No! No, please!” She kept screaming, but her voice sounded more cracked.

The man growled on her heat, slurping and slobbering all over cunt.

He didn’t know what came to him. He didn’t know why he loved the smell and taste of her. Years ago, he’d get icky when women said they were on their period, but something about being locked up for years and his mutant abilities being boosted made it impossible for him not to have a taste.

“N-No,” y/n’s back arched again, trying to close her legs, but the man used his huge hands to keep her legs separated. He knew she was close. He needed that smell over on his and in his mouth.

The man mumbled on her cunt, praising her but she couldn’t hear him. Her head went blank as she came undone all over his face.

If this was a normal human, he for sure would’ve drowned, but not Logan. He wished he could drown in her sweet juice.

“Fuuck, bub,” the man groaned as he leaned up, now moving over her until he was face to face with her. Her head was laid back on her sheets. He knew he drained her, but he needed more.

“Don’t pass out on me, princess. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten my cock wet, and you’re gonna be the first to drench it,” he said as he leaned back and off of her bed.

He was covered in blood. All of the guards and y/n’s. He thought it would be mindful to wet a towel in her room and wash his face off. He wanted her to faint from the good fuck he was about to give her. Nothing else.

“You know, baby? I always wanted to break outta here — But after I saw you? Fuck — I saw no need,” Logan said as he crawled back over y/n, sniffing up her body. “Not at all,”

“P-Please,” y/n’s low voice spoke. She was tired and needed to rest. It’s been a long week, and the way he just ate her out, made it longer. She’s on the line of passing out. “D-Don’t hurt me,”

“Ian gonna hurt you, bub. Gonna fill you up then get us outta here,” Logan said as he pulled his jeans down, freeing his cock. She had no idea what was going on or what he was saying. She was out of it.

“You’ve been comin’ in my little room for a month. You talk a lot, but I never mind. I find it shitty how these people could keep a pretty thing like you trapped in here with an animal like me,”

“Maybe it’s my luck — Just know, Ian, leavin’ heat without you. You belong to me now,” the man said. What was he talking about? Y/n was so confused that she felt pressure in between her legs.

The man let pour a shaky groan, feeling the young woman squeeze him tighter than he thought she could. It’s been a year, but he worse if it hadn’t, she’d still feel this amazing to him.

“Fuckin’ hell, y/n,” Logan spoke, triggering her slow-thinking mind. How did he know her name? “Have you been restricted from sex for decades too? You’re so fucking tight, fuck,” Logan was surprised.

“T-Too much — Too much!” Y/n gained some energy back to cry out and slap at his upper body. “Ah huh? Really? Can’t take a cock, baby? Can’t take my cock, baby?” Logan sounded more aggressive by the second.

“Been locked up for so long, I don’t give a fuck if I break you. I’ll put you back together, don’t worry. But you wouldn’t stay fixed for long,” he chuckled as y/n struggled to hold her moans.

“Cryin’ on my cock — Might be my new favorite thing, bub,” he said as he looked at her face. She looked so pretty. He wondered how she’d look with his huge cock in his mouth.

Ever since she stepped into his experimental room with one of her dress uniforms, he’s been feeling something for her. She was pretty, and after hearing her speak to him for weeks without him saying anything back, he fell in love with how smart she was.

Now that’s a woman he’s wanted for years…

“F-Fuck,” y/n gripped his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin. He loved the slight pain she gave him. “Names Logan, baby. Moan my name,” Logan said in a desperate voice.

She was confused. His quick switches confused her. “Moan my fuckin’ name before I stuck your ass neck,” he threatened. The man looked down, looking at the way his cock was coated in her blood and cum. She was a squirted and creamer.

“L-Logan,” she cried out, scared he was going to fuck her ass like he threatened. As much of a monster he seemed like now, he didn’t want to hurt her. He knew anal was something he’d have to get her comfortable with one day.

“Logan,” she moaned again, even if he didn’t ask for it. She was so close. Again. “That’s it, bub — Got me so fuckin’ close,” he snapped his hips, building the perfect rhythm to fuck her in.

Watching her mouth part and eyes cross as they rolled back was the last straw. The man’s hips stuttered, wanting y/n he was going to cum in her.

She wanted to freak out, but she couldn’t. She just laid there, moaning his name as she released on him again.

“Oh, fuck!” The man shouted as he spilled in her. Cumming at the same time wasn’t something he was expecting, but that was it for him. He was officially tied to her.

Logan wanted to speak to y/n. Ask her if she felt good, but he noticed she had passed out. “Once you wake up, you’ll be home,” he said, knowing exactly where he was heading.

Logan had slipped one of y/n’s nightgowns on her before picking her up and carrying her through the halls, avoiding the guards who were looking for him. They had cameras everywhere, yet the guards on duty tonight were fucking idiots.

Once they made it out, he ran through the street, trying to find a bus that would leave the city. After running around for too long, he decided to break into a drunk, placing y/n in the back and then driving off before anyone stopped him.

“We’re here, bub,” Logan spoke, hours away from Washington. His parents owned a cabin in the woods next to a highway in Oklahoma.

He knew it would be hard, but he was keeping y/n. He couldn’t let anyone else get what he smelled off of her. He was wild for her.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

[kusanagi-haruno]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ NIGHTS LIKE THIS !

ఌ sum: Ever since Gojo saw you, he’s been nothing but love struck. And as time passes, you find yourself feeling the same.

wc: 3.2K

Warnings: Fem!reader, Gojo is basically obsessed with you, Uni AU, Modern AU, Eventual smut, Porn w plot, Making out, Oral (F receiving), P in V sex, Light choking, Praising, Pet names: Pretty girl, beautiful, sweet girl.

a/n: originally this was written for my friend with a different character, but I decided to change it to gojo so I can post it here for you lovelies :)!!!!

Lovestruck Gojo! who forgot how to breathe when he first saw you enter the lecture the first day. His eyes raked over your form, taking in every detail from when you first entered through the door to when you sat down. He bit the inside of his cheek when he saw you sit a few rows in front of him. He ignored the stinging pain that followed after biting the wall of his mouth, too entranced by you to even care.

Lovestruck Gojo! who grew more frustrated as the weeks passed. He cursed his inability to go up to you and just talk. The way your lips seemed to shine every time he looked at them, how the outsides of your eyes creased when you smiled just made him so nervous.

Lovestruck Gojo! who swears his prayers finally have been answered when you two were paired up for a project. He sat up a little bit straighter when the professor announced your name next to his. He swore the sun shined a little bit brighter that day.

Lovestruck Gojo! who’s heart raced when he noticed you make your way towards him at the end of the lecture. He pretended not to notice you, which was hard because he knows he’s noticed just about everything you had to offer. His heart raced when he heard your voice speak to him, in his head was a million thoughts scrambling through his mind.

Lovestruck Gojo! who’s voice cracked when he spoke his first words to you. “I’m sorry?” He questioned when he realized he didn’t respond to you. “Want to exchange contacts? It’ll be easier to keep in touch this way,” he heard you ask. It felt like his breath got caught in his throat, the softness, the perfection of your voice paralyzed him. He knew he had to answer this time, he had to make a good first impression.

Lovestruck Gojo! who hurriedly agreed to give you his number. After that brief conversation, he watched you walk away. He swore his heart would jump out of his chest any moment now, however he wouldn’t even be mad, not when the reason his heart was beating was because of you.

Lovestruck Gojo! who swears he’s on cloud nine. Ever since the both of you have been partnered up for that project, the both of you have slowly gotten closer and closer. Everyday he would wake up with one thought in his mind, you. When he got ready for your guys’ daily meet up to slowly progress on the project, he made sure to look his very best. He always double checked to see if his hair was laid correctly, that his teeth looked white as ever, and that his clothes smelled perfect.

Lovestruck Gojo! who silently congratulated himself every time he made you laugh. Sometimes you would catch him staring, but you found yourself not being bothered by it one bit. You couldn’t deny that you undoubtedly caught feelings for the man in front of you during the time you guys spent together. You found yourself blushing everytime he remembered your coffee order, even more so when he paid for it everytime.

Lovestruck Gojo! who felt like his world was destroyed when the project came to an end. He should’ve felt any form of happiness, but he couldn’t. Not when he had no excuse to see you anymore. When he rolled over in his bed, he felt like sinking into it just to never come out again.

Lovestruck Gojo! who groaned when he heard his phone buzz signaling he got a notification. He silently debated on ignoring it, almost positive it was a random notification from a random app. Although he twisted and turned, soon facing his phone on the nightstand beside him with a small hope that maybe, maybe, you texted him.

Lovestruck Gojo! whose heart went from 0 to 100 the moment he saw it was you who texted him. He immediately opened the notification and read your text, he smiled so hard that it hurt. “Party tn, wanna come? We can let loose a little as a little celebration for finishing that stupid project :).”

Lovestruck Gojo! who never got ready so fast in his life before. He made sure to reply to your text before doing so, he’d rather die than have you think he purposefully ignored you.

Lovestruck Gojo! who had no idea just how fast your heart was beating. Your friends pressured you into texting him, knowing just how much you liked him. You didn’t know whether to curse them out or hug them, but the thought diminished as soon as you saw he replied to you, agreeing to come.

Lovestruck Gojo! who felt the same as he first did the very first second he saw you when he saw you tonight, in front of him. He clenched his fists when he took note just how many other men were in the same building as you, almost hard enough to draw blood. All negative feelings vanished when he locked eyes with you, and instead new ones blossomed. He took note how you styled your hair, and wore a little more makeup than usual. His eyebrows furrowed when he thought that you wanted to look good for somebody else.

Lovestruck Gojo! who slowly lost himself in your eyes. The both of you agreed to dance with each other, mirroring each other's smiles. He lost track of time, not that he cared though. The only thing he cared about was the feeling of your arms around his neck, your eyes looking right at him and fuck the glossiness of your lips. Everything about you was perfect, and he wanted to kill every man who looked at you tonight.

Lovestruck Gojo! whose body felt like it was on fire right now. He doesn’t know who leaned first, but he couldn’t give a fuck about that. Not when the feeling over your soft, plushy lips against his sent his mind, body, and soul to heaven and back. He could only focus on the small, shaky breaths that escaped your lips when he sucked particularly hard, and fuck he loved it more than he should. What’s new though, he always loved you way more than the normal amount.

Lovestruck Gojo! who almost whined when you finally broke the kiss, but what you said after instantly made up for it. “Wanna get out of here?” He didn’t know how a person could be so fucking adorable, but you break his expectations everyday.

His silently nodded, little pants escape his lips as you take his hand and lead him out of the party.

As soon as the two of you barely make it to your dorm, you’re pushed up against the door. You let out a gasp when your head meets the firmness of your dorm door, but quickly the pain turns into pleasure when he takes the opportunity of your opened mouth to slide his tongue into your mouth.

You feel his hands touch every part of your body, trying to memorize every part of you. You hear him chuckle against your lips when you let out soft whines when he touches a particularly sensitive spot, and fuck did that make you wet.

“Such a fucking pretty girl,” he mumbles into your mouth. You let out a whine at the praise, your hands resting against his firm chest. His hands rest on your hips, squeezing them whenever he finds himself feeling too much of everything.

He often found himself denying that you were real, but you were here, under his touch, kissing him. Him, of all people. If he told his past self that he’d up like this with you, his past self would laugh, or faint, either or.

You find yourself slowly backing up until you hit your bed with him looming over you. The both of you take a second to just look at each other, a million things spoken with just one look. Both of your eyes gazing at each other full of lust and love before leaning back into each other with more passion than before.

“G-Gojo..fuck,” you moan out as you arch your back. The man on top of you started to slowly roll his hips against yours, the feeling making pleasure flow through the entirety of your body, no area left untouched. “I- ah..I know baby I know”, he coos, feeling the same if not more.

You feel his big hands tug at your shirt, a silent demand to take it off, and you do with no hesitation. Gojo is awestruck, absolutely entranced with how beautiful you look. Every part of you is absolutely perfect, fuck he feels like the luckiest man alive right now.

He detaches his lips from yours, a small string of spit hangs between the both of you. His hands move from the side of your face to your chest, then slowly down to your hips before resting on the side of your stomach. He leaves soft kisses against different areas of your stomach as his hands roam your torso, silently worshiping your body.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful,” he praises, his thumbs stroking the sides of your torso. You let out soft airy breaths in response to his delicate touches, each kiss igniting a small flame in the same area he kissed you.

When he finally makes your way down to your waist, he looks up at you, silently asking for permission. You give him a slight nod and lift your hips to help him remove your pants. Once Gojo throws your bottoms on the floor somewhere you start to get flustered. Almost your whole body is exposed while he’s still fully dressed. Guess you’re going to have to change that.

You softly call out his name, to which he answers with a small hum. His face is near your clothed pussy, so when he hummed you felt every little bit of it. You subconsciously opened your legs to the feeling of pleasure that sparked through your body as, and let out a squeak when he places a small kiss to your clothed pussy.

“Gojo..” you whine. “Y-you’re still dressed,” you pant out. You feel him chuckle from in between your legs and you let out another small moan in response. “Aww, is my poor baby embarrassed?” He mocks, a small smirk gracing his features.

“N-no..” You mumble with a small pout, but the both of you know otherwise. Gojo quickly rids of his shirt and leans down to give you a quick peck before moving down to your pussy.

You feel your panties are wet, and he sees that they’re wet, and you should feel embarrassed but you don’t.

Gojo tears off your panties and before you can complain, he licks a long stripe from your pussy to your clit. You buck up in response to which his hands fly to your hips to hold them down. After that he makes quick work of making a mess out of you.

You release moan after moan when he repeatedly laps your clit, showing no sign of stopping. The lewd noises of your wet squelches and his sucking fill the room, along with your whimpers and his groans.

As he eats you out the small praises he drunkenly says are lost on your ears. The only thing you can focus on, can even comprehend, was the feeling of his tongue against your wet pussy and oh, the finger he slipped in your poor little pussy.

“Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well,” he praises when he sees you take his finger with no struggle. When your legs twitch he knows you're close and speeds up the thrusting of his one finger and the speed of his tongue against your clit.

“Ah, ah fuck! G-Gojo,” you scream out, so close, just one more second and…

You let out a sob when you feel his finger quickly slip out of your sobbing pussy, and the feeling of his tongue no longer working on your clit. You could almost cry at the lost orgasm.

“Y-you’re so mean,” you sniffle out. “Can’t have you cummin yet baby,” he says shakily. His breaths come out in pants, his thoughts all over the place but the only constant is you.

He leaves a trail of kisses along the inside of your thigh, sucking on them every few kisses. He mumbles soft praises in between, “You're so beautiful, my pretty girl, doing so well.”

When he decides your thighs are littered with enough marks, he moves up your body coming face to face with you. His two fingers prod at your mouth, silently telling you to open your mouth. You obey, your tongue swirling around his thick fingers, tears threatening to spill your eyes.

While you’re working on his two fingers he took the liberty of slowly rolling his hips against yours. He kisses your cheek when he removes his fingers from your mouth, and slowly trails them along your body till he reaches your pussy.

The both of your lips connect when he slowly drags his fingers lightly down your body till they stop at your entrance. He coaxes you to breathe, staring into your eyes as he teases your clit.

He starts to pump his fingers into you, your juices coating his fingers. As you start to loosen up even more he slides another finger into you. The feeling of his thick hands inside of you make you feel impossibly stretched. It feels so good, everything feels so good fuck.

As you near your orgasm you pull him close to you, whimpering and panting wanting, needing to finish as his fingers ruthlessly attack the spongy spot inside your pussy.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you whine fucked out on his fingers. “Please Gojo let me cum,” you lean in to kiss him but he pulls back, teasing you. He pretends to think, already knowing the answer. “You’ve been such a good girl,” he growls out. Matching his thrusts with his words. “Guess I should let you,” he finishes and kisses you.

His fingers speed up making your legs twitch as you reach your climax. Your moans are beautiful against his ears, he can never get enough of you. You’re so perfect.

You call out his name when you cum, your juices spraying out and coating his fingers. He slows down his tempo to help you ride through your orgasm, swallowing your cute little pants and whines.

“How’s my sweet girl doing?” He coos, cupping your cheek and using his thumb to caress the side of your face. You lean into his touch, still blissfully fucked out on his fingers. You let out a hum to signal you’re still with him.

Red coats your cheeks when you hear him say that you taste so fucking good. You use both of your hands to grasp on his forearm that’s attached to the hand on your cheek. “Mm Gojo,” you softly whisper out his name, not completely sure what the real goal was. You just wanted to say his name.

“I know baby, I know,” he quickly places a peck on your forehead before leaning back and quickly undoing his belt and jeans, leaving him in his boxers. Still in your fucked out state you don’t notice just how big he is.

He makes quick work of his boxers, throwing them in a random corner of the room before leaning down over you. “Is this okay? Are you okay with this?” He asks, and you could almost laugh if you weren’t out of breath. Of course you were okay with this, more than okay. “Yesyesyes, just let me feel you. I want you. Please,” you breathe out, looking straight into his eyes.

And something in him just snaps.

Hearing you beg for him, how utterly desperate you sound, it’s too much, you’re too much. His feelings for you are too much. He drags you to the end of the bed and places your legs over his shoulders. He shoves your full length inside of your pussy and you cry out. He’s so big…

You barely have time to adjust before he pulls back out and slams back into you. You grip onto his back, nails scratching down the entirety of his backside. “‘Ts too much- Ah!” moan after moan fills the room, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each other is basically drowned out by both your cries and his grunts.

The ruthless pace he sets makes your tits bounce against his chest, and he doesn’t fail to notice. His mouth greedily sucks on one while his hand fondles the other. “Oh my god! You feel so good ah..,” the sound of your cute little moans do downright dirty things to him. It makes him want to fucking ruin you.

When he decides your right boob is marked up enough he moves to your other, spitting on it before continuing his same merciless treatment on it.

You feel like your soul left your body when one of his hands lifted your hips a bit so he could thrust deeper into you. His cock is filling every single bit of you, and your pussy is greedily sucking him in.

“Ngh..Gojo feels so good. Your cock is filling me ah! so well,” you chant out his name like a prayer.

Once he declares both of your pretty tits taken care of he wraps a hand around your throat and makes eye contact with you. “Beautiful girl..taking me so well. Perfect, you’re fucking perfect,” he praises against your lips.

Both of you are near, you can feel his cock twitching inside of you and Gojo can feel how your pretty pussy is gripping him even more tight. It’s basically calling out his name, pulsing around his dick like a needy little thing.

“Gojo!” You scream out when you cum for the second time that night. Just a few more thrusts and he releases inside of you as well, spilling his warm cum inside of you.

His pace slows as he rides out his orgasm while also helping you ride out yours. “So perfect..did so well, pretty girl, did so fucking good,” he whispers. He continues to let out sweet praises as both of you continue to catch your breath.

You weren’t sure when you closed your eyes, but when you reopened them you were now in the bath against a firm, hard chest. You close your eyes again, relishing the feeling of being relaxed against him.

Gojo on the other hand is still in awe, he can’t, will not believe that you’re here with him. Leaning against him like this has been routine for years, like you guys have been together.

He rests his cheek against your head and you softly hum. His hands gently rub incoherent shapes against your hips as the two of you seek comfort against the both of each other.

Lovestruck!Gojo who kisses the crown of your head as his arms snake around your waist. His hold tightens, and you let it.

Lovestruck! Gojo who promises himself to keep holding you like this now, and in the future. Who promises to never let you go, and you’d never dream of letting him.

[thesecondhandwoman]

𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑫 𝑰𝑵 𝑭𝑰𝑳𝑳

Sevika x f!reader

Synopsis: You are worker in the brothel who had recently gotten attached to your client, Sevika, after countless nights of more passionate sessions. Until they suddenly stopped, leaving you with an aching heart.

A/N: Honestly forgot I had this in my documents, but thought I should post it (since we all love Sevika).

The first time she came to you, she was all easy smirks and smooth charm, her prosthetic hand cool against your waist as she pulled you onto her lap. Sevika had the kind of presence that demanded attention, the kind that made others shrink in her shadow or lean in closer just for a taste of her heat. You had been the latter.

She paid well. That was all that mattered at first. A client with deep pockets and a reputation that ensured no one would bother you when you left her room, skin flushed and legs weak. It was a simple arrangement: pleasure given, coin exchanged. Nothing more.

But then she kept coming back.

And you let her.

At first, it was nothing but indulgence—nights filled with laughter and the scrape of her teeth against your throat, her hand gripping your thigh in a way that made your stomach coil with something dangerous. She made you laugh, too, in a way few did. There was something intoxicating about her presence, the roughness of her voice, the heat of her gaze when she dragged it over your body like she was memorizing you.

Then something shifted.

One night, she stayed after. No rush to pull on her coat, no tossing coins onto the nightstand with a smirk before disappearing into the Undercity’s streets. She lingered, arm draped over her stomach, watching the ceiling like it held answers she wasn’t ready to share. You didn’t ask. But when she turned her head and found you watching her, something in her expression softened.

"What?" you asked, your voice quieter than usual.

She exhaled, long and slow. "Nothing. Just... comfortable."

The next time, she brought you a drink, one she swore you’d like. You sipped it from her fingers, let the burn of it settle behind your ribs, and tried to ignore the warmth curling beneath your skin at the way she watched you. She stayed again that night, but this time, she talked. Stories about fights she had won, men she had bested, but also things she shouldn’t have shared—memories from before she was who she was now. You shouldn’t have asked, but you did. And she answered.

It got harder to pretend you weren’t waiting for her. Harder to ignore the way your heart stumbled when she walked through the door, or the way your body leaned into her touch like it was instinct rather than necessity, like it had been there since your first breath.

And then came the night she kissed you slow. Not the usual rough, greedy clash of lips and teeth, but something deliberate, something aching. Something that made your fingers twist in the fabric of her shirt, made you press closer, desperate to chase whatever this was before it slipped through your fingers.

"This ain't what you do," she muttered against your lips, almost like she was warning you. "Ain't what I do either."

You knew that. You should have let it go, let her leave before the line between transaction and intimacy blurred any further. But instead, you whispered, "Then what is this?"

Sevika didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled you back in, and for the first time, she made love to you rather than just taking. Slow hands, lingering kisses, eyes that held something more than want. It was terrifying. It was thrilling.

When it was over, she didn’t leave. She laid beside you, arm draped over her stomach, staring at the ceiling again. The silence stretched between you, thick with unsaid things. You rolled onto your side, propping yourself up on one elbow, and ran your fingers through the short strands of her hair.

"Are you staying?" you finally asked.

Her eyes flicked to yours, unreadable. "Do you want me to?"

You swallowed, throat dry. "Yeah."

She let out a soft breath, something close to a chuckle but not quite. "Then I’ll stay."

You knew this had become something dangerous. Because you had let yourself believe, even just for a moment, that she might stay for good.

As attachments grew, you slowly stopped giving much passion to your job with other clients. You knew you needed the money, but the feeling no longer sat right in your chest. It only felt right when she came every night, when her hands traced over you in a way that no longer felt like a simple transaction.

But then, the visits slowly stopped.

At first, they became shorter. A hurried touch, a quick drink shared between you before she left, murmuring something about business. Then entire nights passed without her at all. The ache in your chest started as a whisper, then grew, a quiet panic every time the door opened and it wasn’t her.

One night, you waited longer than usual, fingers curled in your lap, stomach twisted in knots. The creak of the door had you looking up, heart leaping—only for disappointment to crush it just as quickly when you saw it was just another client. You forced a smile, but it felt wrong. Everything felt wrong.

Days passed. Then a week. Then two.

She was gone.

You told yourself you shouldn’t have expected anything else. That this was inevitable. That she was never yours to keep.

But it didn’t stop the tightness in your chest, the sting behind your eyes as you sat in an empty bed, wondering if she had ever truly meant to stay at all.

As you dwelled on it further, the confusion gnawed at you until you couldn’t take it anymore. You sought out Babette, the woman who ran the brothel—the woman who had taken you in when you had nowhere else to go. She was the closest thing to family you had, and if anyone knew what was going on, it would be her.

"She’s still coming around," Babette said, her gaze softening in concern. "Just not to you, sweetheart.”

The words hit like a gut punch. You blinked, feeling the air leave your lungs. "What?"

"She’s been with the others," Babette continued gently. "Sometimes just one. Sometimes more than one. But not you."

Your stomach twisted into something sharp, something ugly. You willed yourself not to cry, not to let the tremor in your hands show. But Babette saw it anyway. Her brows knit together as she reached out, fingertips grazing your arm in silent comfort.

"Maybe it’s better this way," she murmured, her voice almost hesitant. "You know how she is, sweetheart. She doesn’t—"

"It’s fine," you interrupted, your voice too quiet, too fragile. You forced a smile, though it felt brittle. "I was just curious. That’s all."

Babette sighed, her hand fully resting over yours now, warm and grounding. "You don’t have to pretend with me. I know what she meant to you."

You swallowed, hard, but the lump in your throat didn’t go away. "She didn’t mean anything to me. She was just a client."

The lie sat bitter on your tongue. Babette didn’t call you out on it, only squeezed your hand and nodded, her expression unreadable. But her silence told you she didn’t believe it any more than you did.

Whatever you thought you had with Sevika—it had only ever been a game to her. You were nothing more than a warm body, a convenient distraction. And when things started feeling too real, she had sought out others, made sure to remind you of exactly what you were: an option, not a priority.

The belief that you could be loved for more than your body had been foolish. And now, the ache in your heart was proof of just how deeply you had let yourself hope.

Days passed, each one bleeding into the next in a haze of exhaustion and quiet heartache. You went through the motions, welcoming clients with hollow smiles and empty touches, but the passion, the illusion, was gone. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like anything at all.

You tried not to linger on the thought of her, but it was impossible when every shadow in the brothel seemed to whisper her name, when every quiet moment left space for memories you wished you could carve out of your mind.

Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Babette,” you said one night, standing in the doorway of her office. She looked up from her desk, her sharp eyes softening the moment she saw you.

“Come in, sweetheart,” she murmured, setting down her pen. You hesitated, shifting on your feet, trying to find the right words. She noticed. Of course, she noticed. “What is it?”

You swallowed, forcing down the lump in your throat. “I need a few days,” you finally said. “Just some time.”

Babette leaned back in her chair, studying you the way a mother does when she already knows the answer but waits for you to say it anyway.

“You haven’t been yourself,” she said simply. “Not since—” She didn’t say her name. She didn’t have to.

You dropped your gaze to the floor. “I just need a few days,” you repeated, quieter this time.

She sighed, then stood, walking around the desk until she was in front of you. A warm hand cupped your cheek, gentle but firm. “You take all the time you need, baby,” she said, brushing a thumb over your cheekbone. “But don’t let this break you. You hear me?”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if you believed it.

That night, you left the brothel and retreated to the small apartment Babette had helped you get years ago. The space felt both foreign and suffocating all at once, too quiet, too empty. You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the floor, willing yourself not to cry.

This was supposed to be temporary. A few days to pull yourself together, to forget.

Because you had to forget.

Sevika was just a client.

She was never supposed to be anything more.

And yet, the ache in your chest told you that she had been.

And that she still was.

Sevika stepped through the familiar doors of the brothel, the heavy scent of perfume and liquor thick in the air. It was the same as always—soft laughter spilling from plush lounges, the low murmur of conversation, the occasional moan slipping past velvet curtains.

But it didn’t feel the same.

She had been here almost every night, distracting herself with fleeting warmth, with lips that weren’t yours, with the burn of whiskey numbing the gnawing in her chest. She convinced herself it was working.

Until now.

Her feet carried her straight to the bar where Babette stood, drying a glass with slow, practiced movements. The moment she saw Sevika approach, something flickered behind her sharp eyes—something knowing. Something unreadable.

Sevika didn’t care to decipher it. She exhaled sharply, leaning one forearm against the counter.

“Is she available tonight?” she asked, the words coming out rougher than she meant.

Babette didn’t answer right away. Instead, she set the glass down and folded the rag over her shoulder. Only then did she meet Sevika’s gaze, her expression unreadable.

“She’s not here,” Babette finally said, voice even.

Sevika’s brow furrowed. “She got a client already?”

“No.” A pause. “She’s been taking time off.”

Something in Sevika’s chest tightened.

“Time off?” She frowned. “Since when?”

“A few days now.”

Sevika’s fingers drummed against the counter, a growing unease curling in her gut. You never took time off. You needed the money, just like everyone else here.

“Why?” she asked.

Babette just looked at her. A slow, knowing look, one that made Sevika shift under the weight of it. And then, to her surprise, Babette let out a dry, humorless chuckle and shook her head.

Sevika’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Funny, you askin’ that,” Babette mused, picking up her rag again, wiping at a spot on the counter that wasn’t even there.

Sevika’s jaw tightened. “Just tell me.”

Babette stopped wiping, meeting her gaze dead-on. The look in her eyes was almost pitying. Almost.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” she said, voice blunt.

Sevika stayed silent, waiting.

Babette sighed through her nose before finally giving her the truth—the one Sevika hadn’t let herself consider.

“She got too attached,” Babette said, folding her arms across her chest. “And now she’s trying to wear that off.”

The words hit Sevika like a punch to the ribs, knocking the air from her lungs.

Too attached.

Trying to wear that off.

For a moment, she just stood there, staring, unable to process what she had just heard. Because that meant—

That meant you had felt it too.

The thing she had been running from, numbing herself against, drowning in booze and other women just to avoid facing.

You had felt it too.

And instead of dealing with it like she had, you had done the opposite. You had left.

Sevika’s fingers curled into a fist against the counter. The guilt, the frustration, the regret—it all slammed into her at once, a crashing tide she wasn’t prepared for.

Babette watched her, eyes sharp, knowing.

“You asked,” she said simply.

Sevika swallowed, her throat dry. She pushed off the counter, turning toward the door without another word.

She needed air. She needed a drink. She needed—

She didn’t know what she needed.

All she knew was that she should have never asked.

Because now, she couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Now, she knew the truth.

And there was no running from it.

Sevika stood outside your apartment door, exhaling a slow breath. The hallway smelled of damp wood and old cigarette smoke, the dim lighting flickering overhead. She had stood in front of many doors before—some with intent, some without—but this one felt different. This one made her hesitate.

She had spent days, weeks, running from this, burying herself in distractions. But Babette’s words echoed in her head, stubborn and unrelenting.

“She got too attached.”

Sevika clenched her jaw and lifted her hand, knocking twice.

A long pause.

For a moment, she thought you wouldn’t answer. Maybe you were asleep. Maybe you’d left. Maybe you wouldn’t want to see her at all.

But then, the door creaked open.

And fuck—

You looked wrecked.

Your hair was undone, tangled from nights of restless tossing. The clothes you wore were loose and rumpled, as if they had been thrown on days ago and never changed. And your eyes—puffy, red-rimmed, still glossy with the remains of sleepless nights and silent tears.

Sevika had seen you in every state imaginable—laughing, breathless, flushed from pleasure. But never like this. Never broken.

Her stomach twisted.

For a second, you just stared at her, like you weren’t sure if she was real or just some cruel figment of your exhausted mind. Then, slowly, your expression hardened, and you began to push the door closed.

Sevika’s hand shot out, gripping the edge before it could fully shut. “Wait.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “What do you want, Sevika?” Your voice was hoarse, quiet, so unlike the teasing lilt she had grown used to hearing.

She swallowed, forcing herself to meet your gaze. “I just need to talk.”

A humorless chuckle escaped you, void of warmth. “Talk?” you repeated. “Like how you suddenly stopped coming to me? Like how you’ve been fucking around with everyone else?”

Sevika flinched at the bitterness in your voice. She had earned that.

You scoffed, shaking your head as you tried to close the door again. “No. I can’t do this, Sevika. Just—just leave.”

Panic shot through her.

Her hand pressed harder against the door, a crack of desperation in her tone. “Please.”

You froze.

Sevika never begged. Not for anything. Not for anyone.

But she wasn’t too proud to now.

“Please,” she repeated, softer this time. “Just let me explain.”

Your fingers trembled slightly where they gripped the doorframe. You didn’t move for a long moment, weighing your choices, weighing her.

Then, with a quiet exhale, you stepped aside.

Sevika took a slow breath and walked in.

She didn’t know how to fix this. She didn’t know if she even could.

But she hoped that she could at least try to.

The silence stretched between you as you both settled into the living room. You sat on the couch, curling your legs under yourself, arms wrapped tightly around your torso like you were trying to hold yourself together. Sevika hesitated before lowering herself into the chair across from you, elbows resting on her knees.

For a moment, she said nothing. She just looked at you, at the exhaustion on your face, at the way your fingers picked idly at the hem of your sleeve, at the hurt she had put there.

She exhaled heavily, rubbing a hand down her face before finally speaking.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she muttered, voice rough, tired. “That—that was never my intent.”

You scoffed quietly, shaking your head. “Really?”

Sevika winced but didn’t argue.

She let out another breath, staring at her hands as she tried to put words to the mess in her head. “I—this isn’t something I know how to do,” she admitted. “Feelings, love—any of that shit. It’s never been something I was meant for. The things I’ve done, the life I live… it doesn’t make me the kind of person who gets this. Who deserves it.”

Your brow furrowed, but you stayed quiet.

Sevika clenched her jaw. “I was scared,” she admitted, the words almost foreign on her tongue. “Scared of what it meant. Scared of how easy it was with you. How much I wanted it to be real.”

She finally looked up, and the weight of her gaze settled heavy between you.

“I thought if I put distance between us, it’d go away. That I could just bury it, move on.” A humorless chuckle left her. “Guess I fucked that up too, huh?”

You swallowed, shifting slightly on the couch. “You could’ve just talked to me,” you murmured, voice quieter now, the sharp edges dulling.

Sevika nodded, dragging a hand down her face. “Yeah. I should’ve. But I was so caught up in running from it, I didn’t stop to think about what it was doing to you.” She let out a slow breath. “I didn’t realize—”

She stopped herself short, like saying it out loud would make it too real.

But then, she forced herself to look at you again.

“You liked me back.”

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed, looking away, suddenly finding the floor far more interesting.

“Of course I did,” you muttered, voice thick. “I still do.”

Sevika’s chest tightened.

She had spent weeks drowning herself in anything that could distract her—other women, alcohol, fights that left her knuckles bruised—anything to push away the feeling she didn’t want to face.

But now, sitting here, watching you—

She realized she had made a mistake.

A huge one.

Sevika took a deep breath, steadying herself before she stood, crossing the short distance between you. Her movements were slow, hesitant, like she thought you might flinch away. And at first, you nearly did—your body tensed, your fingers gripping the fabric of your sleeves as she approached.

But she didn’t force anything.

Instead, she reached out, calloused fingers brushing against your jaw before cupping your face with a gentleness you hadn’t expected. Her thumb traced over your cheek, hesitant, almost reverent.

“Let me fix this,” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Let me make it up to you.”

Your breath hitched, eyes flickering up to hers, searching.

“Let me love you back.”

Her words cracked something open in you, something raw and aching. The weeks of confusion, of longing, of heartache—all of it threatened to overwhelm you. You could see the desperation in her eyes, the regret, the unspoken plea for another chance.

Slowly, your body relaxed.

Your hands moved on their own, fingers brushing over the cool metal of her prosthetic before gripping the front of her vest, pulling her closer.

Sevika exhaled shakily, her forehead resting against yours for a moment before she tilted your chin up, capturing your lips in a kiss that was nothing like the ones before.

It wasn’t rushed or hungry.

It was soft. Careful. Like she was afraid you might shatter beneath her touch.

You melted into it, arms looping around her neck, pulling her impossibly closer. The kiss deepened, her other hand splaying against your back, holding you as if you might slip away if she let go.

When she finally pulled back, her lips hovered just over yours, breaths mingling.

“I won’t run again,” she promised, voice rough with emotion. “Not from you.”

You searched her face, the sincerity in her expression, before nodding slightly.

“Then don’t.”

And when she kissed you again, you knew—this time, she wouldn’t.

A/N: Kinda noticed the amount of repeating phrases in this but I didn’t proofread and wrote it when I was sick so ignore that and hope you enjoyed it (and again, sorry for being gone for so long)!

[zlut4rina]

Freakum Dress

Storyline: Although you and your girlfriend work through each other's busy schedules, learning to make time for one another. You can't help but feel a bit "neglected" one specific day. As a way to get your girlfriends attention, you pull out what you like to call a "Freakum Dress." I mean, every woman has one.

Pairings: dom!g!p!minjeong x sub!femreader

Warnings: Smut with Plot, heavy kinks, breeding kink, slapping, biting, unprotected sex, oral (both receiving), degrading, she refferes to you as "doll" a lot, stomach buldge, VERY DETAILED (im a whore mb) prob a bunch more I forgot abt-

Note: I thought of this while in my math class ... also heavily and obviously inspired by the Beyonce song Freakum dress duhhh(minus the "he's out doin wrong" and going out to party part) My first time writing and posting something like this on tumblr Gulp .. enjoy (u better)

Word count: 5.4k (my apologies ima plot whore)

___________________________________________

It was around 6 in the afternoon, you lie in bed scrolling on your phone in a dimly lit room. The atmosphere was warm and calming, all that was heard was the intense typing from your girlfriend and her keyboard. She’s still at it, by this time you both would be cuddling enjoying the warm embrace of your loved one. But no, Minjeong had extra work to get done. I mean it wasn’t really her fault her boss emailed her a day before hand letting her know of the possibility of extra work, she needed to turn in. Of course knowing her she forgot having to do that ANDDDD the other things needed to be complete today, and let’s just say … your girl was stressed!

You noticed of course, I mean how could you not when she was practically ignoring you all day. At least that’s how you saw it. While tapping away at your phone for hours on end you finally set it aside, taking this time to scan your surroundings your strained yet tired eyes landing on the back of your girlfriend’s head. You watched her closely admiring the way her fingers moved at such a fast yet flowy pace. The way she bit her lip when she made a simple spelling mistake. The way her brows furrowed tightly at her bright computer screen, creating a beam that shunned only upon her and the small corner she was in.

You sucked your teeth in annoyance rolling your eyes as you threw the blanket that was once covering half of your body to the other side of the bed. Getting up you made your way to her, hand on the back of her chair you leaned down your faces matching in level. “Still working huh? How longs’ it been babe?” You question watching as she flinched slightly to the sound of your voice so close to her ear. Never stopping her movement on the keyboard she answers “I don’t know … an hour or two maybe?” she says looking at you briefly before Turing her attention back to her screen, slightly slouching a bit now. You cringed at this, how could she be so focused on stupid paper work. I mean for this long too?! This is unacceptable and honestly ludicrous you thought.

Your gazed froze on her admiring her features taking in a pretty yet annoying site. You leaned in and gave her a small kiss on the cheek, to no avail she didn’t even react only a few blinks as she switched from tabs scrolling through paragraphs of lost media. You groaned a little your lips curling into a frown. “Maybe you should take a break, no?” You say tilting you’re head a bit to the side locking your eyes with hers a small pout on your face. “I can’t babe, I need to get this done before tonight.” You stared at her for a while blinking a few times before finally standing up straight taking a few steps back. “Okay...” You said Barley below a whisper. You turned your body swiftly on one foot making your way downstairs to the bathroom.

After you used the bathroom, you lost track of time sitting on the couch watching TV. Coming to this realization you check your phone seeing it’s 10:45, you turned the TV off and made your way upstairs to your shared bedroom where you assumed your girlfriend to be sleeping. Oh boy where you wrong upon opening the door you see her still at her desk typing away. “Minjeong… baby, c’Mon no way your still at this.” You said softly with a hint of sadness in your voice. Obviously, she ignored you as if you didn’t even exist it made you sad yes but you had a trick up your sleeve. Never thought times would be this tough, never expected to bring “her” out. She was only a backup plan if all else failed and well in this situation, everything failed. Noticing the lack of attention you made your way to the closet in your bedroom. Turing around to her once more before rummaging through to find it, her your plan Z. You made your way to the bathroom downstairs changing into her the dress you bought for moments like these. You never really expected to have moments like these before, I mean Minjeong was obsessed with you so there was no need to try to grab her attention in such way. But every woman has one and you just so happen to be one of those women.

You made your way to the top of the stairs where your shared bedroom was along with the woman you plan to steal from her busy work. Strutting your way up you met the door taking a deep breath in you twisted the knob entering slowly and quietly. “Minjeong…” you said in a soft yet alluring tone but loud enough to catch her attention. She turned her head to you fast then back at the screen. “Wha-..” she couldn’t even finish her sentence before she cocked her head back at you, you would think she broke her neck with how fast she turned to you. Mouth slightly open eyes wandering, everywhere, anywhere. She couldn’t take her eyes off you staring in awe at your beauty, you stood there nervous was it working ? Did it already work ? What’s next ? As those questions ran through your head minjeong turned back around focused on her work again, or so you thought. Her right hand reaching down to push her growing bulge down from view. Suddenly a random burst of confidence took over you strutting your way to your girlfriend you push her hands off the keyboard and sit yourself on her lap your eyes catching each other in an intense gaze. A battle you weren’t willing to lose “What’s your deal?” Minjeong asked placing her hands on your hips keeping you in place perfectly on top of her growing cock. You gulped keeping your eyes on her placing your hands on her shoulders “I should be asking you that instead.” You said tilting your head to the side a little a smug look on your face as you said so. “Ahh what’s this about babe” your girlfriend asked moving your hips forward on her keeping eye contact, she was teasing you. Of course she was, but you couldn’t back down now.

You kept your gaze with her your eyes flickering down to her lips in one swift movement “You like work more than me?” You questioned now looking her in the eyes furious yet in a pleading way. “Ohhh babe I’d never do that to you, you know that” she says leaning closer to your face. “Clearly you’re too sexy to ignore...” She says lips grazing yours as she spoke gripping your ass tightly, that’ll definitely leave a mark. You melted into her touch almost immediately pushing your face closer to her desperate for a kiss only for her to pull away and shake her head. “uh uh how do I know if you really miss me if you really want me” she says voice lower and more seductive massaging your ass as she spoke. Minjeong was hard, rock fucking solid it was obvious to the both of you who knew you had this much of an effect on her. You whined quietly grinding a bit on her stiff pants, immediately Minjeong stopped your movements holding your hips down tightly definitely to leave a bruise later. “Oh c’Mon doll, use your words. I know you can” She coos at you almost as if she’s taunting you “Minjeong ... please … I need you” You finally spoke Barley above a whisper eyes leaving hers staring down at your laps. Gripping her shoulders lightly as you begged, you don’t even know what you where begging for you just, needed her and that was all that mattered.

Minjeong’s eyes darkened after hearing that she leaned in and kissed you soft and sweetly before it almost immediately turned heated and sloppy. She kissed you with so much force and dominance there was no point in fighting against her. Why would you anyway, her hands gripped your hips tighter digging her nails into your skin causing you to whine and wince at the pain. It was beautiful you loved when she got like this, taking her anger out on you or just straight up using you as a way to relieve herself .

Minjeong pulled away from the kiss out of breath looking you in the eyes hungry. She licked her lips before picking you up while getting up from her chair, she let you go standing in front of her as she sat on the end of the bed. Leaning back on her elbows she looked at you in the eyes looking you up and down admiring your body the way your curves complimented the dress the way the fabric clung to your body like a glove, the pretty lacing on your legs. “Well, whatcha waitin’ for it ain’t gonna suck itself is it now pretty girl?” You gulped getting down on your knees before her, stroking her thighs up and down staring at the intense bulge in her pants begging for release. Your hands slowly making their way up her thighs massaging the huge tint in her pants “fuckk ..” minjeong groaned at the feeling, laying down fully on her back a hand behind her head the other going to reach yours stroking your hair slowly. You slowly reach to the top of her pants and pull them down using one hand to massaged her slightly clothed cock. You kissed it, softly and slowly leaving kisses on her aching penis. Finally after toying with her you pull down her boxers slowly causing her long uncut cock to spring out. You stared in awe the way her precum ran down the side of her cock, you stared at it loving how it twitched too absolutely nothing, the pretty curve it had to it. Your gaze didn’t last long closing your eyes leaning in to give her cock a long-wet lick base to tip, once you reached the top you sucked and tongued her tip playing with her foreskin sucking on it leaving a loud pop sound as it slipped out your mouth.

Downing the whole thing in one go causing the girl under you to twitch and grip your hair. She let out a breathy moan as she trusted into your mouth slowly and shakily “you’re so perfect at making me feel good, want my cum deep in your throat huh? Don’t you doll”. Her voice a low husky tone throwing her head back onto the bed as you worked your mouth Bobbing your head in different patterns just the way she liked. Your tongue working magic on her tip making her twitch and buck her hips into each lick you give her. Spit pooling out your mouth onto her harden cock. You use your free right hand to cup and play with her balls skillfully earing a long and breathy moan from the girl. Using your left to stroke her as you tongued at her from above, Minjeong was in heaven the way you worked your mouth on her was like a reward only she can recall. This isn’t your first time doing this oh no, you’ve sucked her off plenty of times more than you can count on both hands. You’re not complaining though you loved it and so did she so of course you’d be willing to do it whenever she liked.

Minjeong grabbed your head with both hands forcing you to take all of her deeper. Taking your hands away and placing them on her thighs for balance you gagged taking in her long cock. The thick mix of saliva and precum causing you to choke a bit on her, nothing too amateur for you though. “You like that doll, huh? Having your throat full of this huge cock in your mouth yea?”. You could only whine in response tears rolling out your eyes, this was your favorite pain and pleasure. Minjeong’s movements became more ragged and fastened in pace as her moans became more vocal. You could tell she was close , you worked your tongue like a pro for her wanting that sweet relief just as much as she did. And with a few more hard disgusting pumps into your mouth she came hot strings of cum hitting the back of your throat coating your mouth heavily. You pull your head back and swallow licking your lips, as cum and spit dripped down your mouth. Eyeing Minjeong and the way her chest rose and fell you sat on your knees waiting for your next order. Minjeong finally arises and sits up “Somethings definitely gotten into you doll…” she says reaching for your chin making you look up at her. Rubbing lines back and forth on your wet lips “Get up.” She orders, and of course you stand up almost immediately

She reaches for the lace on your legs and ripped it off like a hungry savage causing a small gasp to leave your lips hands moving to her shoulder for balance. After tugging away at you she finally had your pretty wet cunt on display for her, she ran her middle finger through your soaking wet slit coating her fingers the second she reached into your heat. “Mm- min please” you moaned head tossed down as she played with you, her fingers dancing around your cunt refusing to enter you correctly. She played with your clit rubbing it in circles causing you jolt your hips forward at her. “Please baby… I was good for you, no?” Minjeong only stared at you halting her movement making you whine because of the lack of touch she gave. Minjeong grabbed your hand from her shoulders, leading you onto the bed where she laid on her back. “Let me taste you doll, let me taste how good you really are.”. She said with a smirk licking her top row of teeth she ordered you to turn around with a wave of her finger. Of course you obliged to her, who are you to say no there’s not like you have a choice to say no either in this situation. You turned your body and slowly backed up on her she pulled your lower half down to her face blowing on your wet cunt, you shook slightly minjeong cheesed at this loving her effect on you. She toyed with you again her fingers playing in your wet heat rubbing up and down coating her digits in sweet ecstasy. You could only whine pushing your hips back on her more needing some sort of friction to your heat “You’re so needy doll. That’s how you even ended up here anyway, you’re such a whore.” She landed a loud slap on your ass making you moan in response head jolting up at the moment of connection. “Were you desperate for my attention or desperate to be fucked like the stupid cum doll you are huh?”. She landed another hard slap to your other cheek this one creating a hand print “Answer me slut.” She said in a rough tone, as soon as those words left her mouth she shoved three fingers into you without warning. “Ahh fuck, min” You moaned out body falling onto hers.

You reached to stroke her still harden wet cock, Minjeong slapped your ass again this time rougher than before. It hurt yes but it hurt so good tears left your eyes and you drooled slightly. “Are you gonna answer or does someone need to be punished?” she asked taking her fingers out that were once working in and out of you. You whined shaking your head in response “Stupid girl, I told you to use your words.” Minjeong slapped your ass hard before driving her face deep into your cunt sucking and licking as if she were a starving stranger. Your back arched eyes rolled back moan after moan escaping your lips. Minjeong went ham on you sucking your clit her tongue flicking it and rubbing circles on it from time to time. It felt amazing all you could do was moan almost forgetting to stroke your pretty girlfriend off, your hand went up and down on her cock you lent down to lick it and suck the tip and your other hand went to her balls and played with them once again. Minjeong soon shoved three fingers back into your cunt as her lips and tongue went to work on your folds and clit leaving quiet pop sounds as she did her magic. Her arms wrapped around your waist keeping you in place forcing you to lower yourself onto her face burying her deep into your soaking wet cunt. Moans escaped from both of your mouths hers causing vibrations in your body. You could feel a knot building up in your stomach, Minjeong knew you were close the way you clenched around her fingers hearing your toes pop after curling them, the way you just couldn’t keep still above her. Alas you couldn’t keep focusing on yourself you took your attention back to your girlfriend’s cock sucking it hungrily and sloppily. Everything felt too good to stop, too good focus on just one thing you both just fucked each other hypnotized by the scent of sex in the air.

With a few more sucks and strokes you both came hard, both your bodies shaking your girlfriends cum landing all over your face and tongue. Minjeong gathered all the cum that spilled out tonguing and sucking to get all of it out. She didn’t stop there she kept her movement still fingering you at such a slow pace tongue licking your clit sucking on it just to get a sweet reaction out of you. “Think you can give me another doll?”. She asked face still deep in your heat causing you to shiver you shook your head side to side earning a smack “Just how stupid are you?”. Your girlfriend asked angry halting her fingers movement in you. She pushed you off of her turning your body like a ragdoll forcing you to sit on her face. She locked you down with her arms wrapped around your waist keeping you in place. She started devouring your sensitive cunt tonguing and sucking at your pink bud causing you to whine and squirm in her grasp. “Taste so good doll, can’t get enough” she spoke into your body sending waves of pleasure through your body. You grip the headboard with your left and the right reaching for her hair pushing her head forward into your body. You grinded on her face your sensitive bud colliding with the tip of her nose , the way they rubbed together resembled two knight’s sword fighting. Her tongue was like a serpent burring deep into its hole beneath the two soldiers. The feeling was intense you felt like you were going crazy eyes rolling back, cunt aching, body hot and sweaty, fingers trembling the knot in your stomach was growing you felt like you were about to explode.

That was until she stopped, making you whine and attempt to grind on her face more for some sort of release in tension. Smiling against your wet cunt she looked up at you “Beg for it.” She said, no, she stated it was a demand. Looking you in the eyes like some pathetic doll she could get whatever she wanted out of you. You stared right back mouth open sweat dripping off your chin onto the pillow. How could she do this to you, she gave one of your cheeks a hard smack echoing through the room. You yelped in response biting your lip with your eyes shut “How many fucking times do I have to tell you to speak up?”. She said angry smacking you again, she loved the way you reacted how helpless you look right now it’s a wonderful sight to her. “Or do you just love being treated like this huh, doll?” she bit your inner thigh leaving bite marks and hickeys “Please, min ... I wanna cum so bad...”. You said, helpless and defeated you had no other choice “Good girl...”. She whispered into your thigh focusing back on your wet cunt, devouring it like she once did before. The sensation was intense almost unbearable, you immediately stated grinding on her lips and tongue grabbing a handful of hair pushing her head further into you. She clawed at your ass and thighs, the mixture of pain and pleasure was too much for you with just a few more licks you came undone shaking clenching uncontrollably. That sweet relief felt heavily. Minjeong licked you all up taking in every last drop of you in her mouth. “Fuck you taste amazing for me doll. So wet and warm, I can’t get enough” and with that she throws you off her replacing each other’s positions. You now laying down beneath her legs on each side of her body as she kneeled in-between you.

You laid there both hands covering your face in embarrassment “You look so fucking good in that baby, I almost don’t wanna take it off ya”. She said eyeing down your hot body practically numb from the previous orgasms. She began stroking her still harden cock staring you in the face, she reached to move your hands away right above your head. She leaned down both your wrist in her hand, she reached your ear and spoke “Fuck baby, I wanna see how beautiful your body looks right now”. She said before kissing down your chin and neck, leaving bites and marks all over before stopping at your collarbone. “But that dress is so damn sexy to ruin” she continued her assault on your neck collarbone licking you after every bite. There’s still some fluff in her, just a little. She sat up releasing your wrist, they remained in that same position. She looked at you before smiling, taking her shirt off finally revealing her toned slim body to you. She threw it somewhere on the floor who cares where it went. Biting her lip she reached for her bra and pulled it over her head slowly swaging her body seductively. You could only stare legs holding her close to you putting a hand over your mouth to cover yourself. “I’ve got an idea” your girlfriend started “How bout I fuck you with it on, then I rip it off and fuck you without it. You like how that sound doll?” she lifted your legs onto her shoulders and watched you waiting for an answer, you nodded “Please…” was all you could muster up. Minjeong grinned “Please what baby doll?” she’s toying with you again, how you loved and hated when she did. You bit your lip looking away from her, you whined not wanting to embarrass yourself. She grabbed you by the chin making you face her “Tell me, tell me what you want doll. You wanna feel good, don’t you? So speak.” She looked at you with anticipation tilting her head to the side waiting on what sort of response you’ll give her now.

You couldn’t say anything, you wanted too but nothing came out you felt stuck you probably looked like an idiot just staring into nothing. “Ah nothing? That’s fine, maybe we should stop her then. No?” she said looking at you with a sly smirk her voice was so low and mellow when she spoke. She knew you didn’t want to stop, neither did she. “NO, please ..” you reached for her shoulder keeping her in-between you “I want it, I want you” You bit your lip debating on whether you should Say the next part or not. After a few seconds of silence you spoke “I want you to fuck me, please min, please fill me up. I want it I want it so bad.” You begged her frantically, desperate for something, anything. She smiled at you “You’re so pretty when you beg.” She chuckled reaching for her harden shaft slapping it against your clit earning a moan from you. She leaned down to your ear kissing it before making her way to attack your neck with love bites. You were a mess, a hot moaning mess.

She slowly entered her cock inside you inch by inch she took her time, her painfully slow time. Thus causing you to squirm under her wrapping your arms around her neck and she continued to leave hickeys all over you. Your girlfriend began her assault on your wet cunt at a fast pace her balls slapping against your ass, the sounds of wet skin colliding and the scent of sex and ecstasy in the air. You could only moan eyes shut almost screaming into your girlfriend’s ear. She fucked you rough and hard her movements where inhumane almost as if she wasn’t really the woman you once knew, she was fucking you like a monster. So intensely destroying your insides with her long cock. “Fuck doll, this pussys’ so fucking good. All mine too~” she spoke into your ear words shaky with the way she was pounding you. The sound of sloppy sex overwhelming you, you Barley understood her. Nails sinking into her back, neck and hips leaving scars and markings that’ll take days to heal. The pain causing Minjeong to groan and bite down on your neck, at this rate your neck was full of red pink and purple marks with spots of dips of teeth marks all over. “Ah fuck baby you feel so fucking good around me.” She leaned up and grabbed you by the waist ending her attack on your upper body. “You’re so pretty, so fucking pretty” she spoke as she pounded into you harder somehow managing to go deeper into you. Her tip kissing your cervix like a desperate lover “Fuck min, don’t stop please..” you begged biting your lip ad your body Bobbing up and down to her rhythm. “You like that doll? Huh, like the way my dick violates your insides don’t you?”. She fucked you faster her breathing becoming heavy and quick, she was close so so close. “I’m gonna fill you up so good yea? You wanted this. You wanted me to fuck you like this like the slut you are.” She bit her lip head hung beck as she pounded into you like a mad man “Fuck I love you so much you know that?” You nodded in response your grip on her body growing tighter and you could feel your climax approaching. “Look at me pretty girl, look at who’s worshiping this beautiful body of yours” she grabbed your chin making you face her eyes meeting for a split second before you both crashed into a long-heated kiss. “Min… baby I’m-im gonna cum fuck” You slightly pulled away from the kiss feeling your next orgasim approaching “Me too baby I’m gonna cum inside you, okay?” You nodded and with a few more pumps you both came together your back arching as she pushed deeper into you.

Panting and sweaty you both sit there for a while before your girlfriend spoke “Hate to see this pretty thing go so soon, hm? Ah, but I bet you’d look so much sexier with it torn apart huh doll”. You whined in response, taking this as an answer without wasting any more time she grabbed the fabric covering your stomach and ripped it apart all in one go. This caused you to moan covering you face with your hands as she “undressed” You. “So beautiful, just for me. Only me” she spoke under her breath admiring your physique, the way you ditch wear a bra underneath almost as if you wanted this to happen. Her hands trailing up and down your body feeling you up, she licked her lips at the site before her. “How much cum you think this pretty belly can hold doll?” she spoke tracing circles around your bellybutton. “I think you’d look so cute carrying my baby. Don’t you think so too” your girlfriend smiled at you with a shit eating grin. You stared back at her a red flush forming on your cheeks, this is so humiliating you thought. “I want to, so bad. I wanna fill you up with all my cum, watching your stomach grow bigger with each pump. I wanna breed you like a fucking whore.” She takes her gaze from your stomach and looks at you in the eyes, deeply. “Can i?” is all she says a glint of plea in her eyes, she’s desperate. You look at her up and down before letting a sheepish smile form on your face “I’m not stopping you am i?” you ask tilting you head a bit at her. With this she wasted no time ramming her somehow still hard cock into you this time shoving all full inches inside you without warning. Causing you to yelp in pain and pleasure, it was too much for you but who were you to say no to her?

“Fuck baby I love you” she said between each thrust, leaning down she held one of your breast in her hand playing with the ripple and the other in her mouth. “Fuck min!” you moaned out harms wrapping around her neck pulling her closer into your body. Her pace was fast and eager, her rhythm and patterns where all off without sync. She was fucking you like a deranged animal “I’m goona get you pregnant baby, full of me fuck I need it” You wrapped your legs around her torso pulling her deeper into you. “Please min, cum inside me fill me up please” you begged desperate just as she was. Moving your hip along with her at a ragged pace both desperate and needy. The sounds coming from you too were disgusting wet skin slapping against each other moans from different pitches it’s like you both lost your minds. Neither of you thinking straight only worried about cumming making the other feel good. Minjeing got up from your chest grabbing you by the shoulder with one hand the other reaching for yours placing it on your stomach. Feeling the way her cock bounced in and out of your tummy. “Feel that doll? That’s me getting you pregnant. Dumping my seed into you like a whore”. She left your hand on your stomach grabbing the headboard to balance her body as she thrusted in you like crazy. The bed creaking from her speedy movements the way your body moved and your boobs bounced to her sex was wonderful, sadly it had to come to an end at some point. “Baby I’m so close … don’t stop .. please” you whined out eyes close head thrown back your legs hugging her body tighter than ever. “Me too doll, you ready to carry my baby?” she muttered through her teeth as her speed grew faster chasing after her high. You nodded with a few small “please” and “yes” your grip on her tightened as you came undone on her shaft. Back arching biting your lip till it bled, your girlfriend pumped into you still letting all her sweet and salty semen let loose into you some spilling out.

She fell on top of you her now soft penis still inside you, you moaned a bit at her. “I’m so sleepy doll” she spoke into the crook of your neck, you looked down at her smiling before stroking her hair. “We can stay like this is you want” you whispered in her ear gaining a nod from her, chuckling at this you pull her closer into a snuggle. Limbs wrapped around each other, scared of letting go. You turned your head to look at the clock on your nightstand, it read 1:34 am. “Guess your gonna be in a bit of trouble tomorrow huh? Mingejong looked up at you before Turing her gaze to her still open computer screen. She only shrugged and went back into her spot kissing your neck before trailing off to sleep “I love you, so much” your girlfriend spoke before going completely silent.

“I love you too”

___________________________________________

Very rushed ending my apologies (I feel like I lost the plot halfway through tbh 😭)

Hope u liked tho more coming soon if u guys enjoyed ♡

[psformybss]

could we get some angst with secret fiance?

Rumors Like Smoke

series masterlist

warnings: angst, established relationship, long distance struggles, social media rumors, emotional vulnerability, hurt/comfort

an: this isn’t as angsty as it could have been but i feel like it still has a good amount of angst.

︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

The rumors started as whispers.

Nothing more than a tagged post.

A fan video of Drew and Odessa walking out of a narrow alley in Belgrade, laughing over something he said.

Someone zoomed in on their hands—not touching, but close enough.

Then came the Reddit threads.

The Twitter sleuths.

The articles with photoshopped thumbnails and question-mark headlines.

“Are Drew Starkey and Odessa A’zion more than costars?”

She hated that it got to her.

Because she knew better.

Drew was an actor. Odessa was his scene partner. This was no different than how he was with Maddie or Madison or any woman he’d worked closely with.

She wasn’t jealous.

Not really.

Not until the silence started to stretch too wide.

She woke up on the couch in Charleston to the buzz of her phone at 2:17 AM.

The sound startled Teddy first. He lifted his head from her lap with a soft huff, looking toward the phone like he expected Drew to walk through the door. But it was just the screen, glowing with his name.

Drew (Serbia)

She answered on the third ring. Her voice was sleepy but strained. “Hey.”

“Hey, baby,” he said, breathless like he’d been rushing to find quiet. “Sorry. I know it’s late over there.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I just… missed you. Needed to hear your voice.”

Her heart cracked a little at that. It always did. But this time, something stayed sharp at the edges.

“Where are you?”

“Outside the hotel. We just wrapped. Odessa and I had pickups. It ran long.”

Of course it was Odessa.

The name hung there like cigarette smoke, curling around things it had no business touching.

She didn’t answer right away. Just sat up straighter, brushing sleep from her eyes while Teddy pressed closer to her thigh.

Drew picked up on the silence. “What?”

“Nothing,” she said, her tone too clipped to mean it. “Just tired.”

He sighed. “Talk to me.”

“I haven’t heard from you in three days.”

“I know. It’s been crazy—”

“Yeah. Busy, right?” she cut in. “You’ve been spotted all over Belgrade with your busy.”

There was a pause on his end. A sharp inhale.

“Don’t do that.”

“I’m not accusing you,” she snapped. “I’m not one of those people online, Drew. I’m your wife.”

Her voice cracked at the end, and she hated it.

“I know you are,” he said softly.

“Then why does it feel like you forgot?”

Teddy’s tail flicked once, sensing her voice tightening.

“I haven’t forgotten,” Drew said, more firm now. “I think about you every second I’m not on set. I’m just… worn out. Trying to finish this job strong.”

“I’ve defended you to strangers,” she whispered. “I ignore the tags, the DMs, the fan theories about you and her. I tell myself I know you better than anyone. But the longer you stay away, the more those voices start to sound like mine.”

That shut him up.

“I’m not mad that you’re working,” she went on. “I’m mad that you let the internet keep me company more than you do.”

Drew exhaled a curse. “That’s not fair.”

“No? You think Teddy doesn’t notice when your side of the bed’s cold every night? You think I don’t check your location just to feel close to you for five seconds before I remember it hasn’t updated in days?”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like this,” he said, voice low.

“But you did.”

Silence.

Teddy pressed his head into her chest, grounding her. She curled her hand into his fur.

“I used to feel like I had all of you,” she whispered. “Now I feel like I have your ghost.”

Drew was quiet for a long time. “I didn’t want to call like this. Not when we’re both tired.”

“Then why did you call?”

“Because I miss you,” he said. “And I don’t know how to fix this from halfway across the world.”

She blinked away the sting in her eyes. “I don’t want a fix. I want you.”

“You have me.”

“Not when I have to fight the internet every day just to believe that.”

His voice broke slightly. “You think I’m cheating?”

“No,” she said instantly. “I think you’re disappearing.”

That was worse somehow.

“You barely call anymore. You’re out with her every other day. And I keep telling myself it’s the same as any other project, but this one feels different. You feel different.”

“I’m not different,” he said. “I’m tired. I’m stretched thin. But I love you just as much as the day I left Charleston.”

“Then show me, Drew,” she whispered. “Because I can’t keep loving a version of you that only exists in old photos and saved voicemails.”

Another silence. Longer this time.

Then, in a whisper: “Don’t give up on me.”

“I’m not,” she said. “But I’m running out of ways to hold on.”

Something moved behind his voice. A shake. A crack. And then—click.

Call ended.

She stared at the screen.

Heart thudding. Hands shaking.

For a moment, she couldn’t tell who ended it. Then she realized—

He hung up.

He didn’t know he’d hung up.

Not until he stared at the screen, still pressed to his ear, and realized the silence wasn’t hers anymore—it was his.

Call ended.

Three seconds passed. Then five. Then the weight of it hit him all at once like a punch straight to the chest.

“Shit,” he muttered, breath catching, his heart galloping too fast. “Shit, shit, shit.”

His hands shook as he fumbled with the phone, heart thundering while he stared at the screen, willing it to light up again. Willing her to call him back. But it stayed dark.

No call. No text. Nothing.

He didn’t even remember pressing the damn button. He’d been too caught in the sound of her voice—cracking, raw, real—too caught in the feeling that he was losing her in slow motion.

Now he was afraid she might already be gone.

He sat there in the hotel room, the echo of her final words thick in the air like smoke that wouldn’t clear.

His throat closed. He looked around the room and hated everything about it—how sterile it felt, how quiet. How far. The bed was cold, still made, untouched from the night before. His hoodie still smelled like the set. His bag was half-zipped, clothes spilling out. And all he could think was: What the fuck am I doing here?

Not just Belgrade.

Here.

In this space between good intentions and terrible execution. Between promises made and promises missed.

He opened his phone and didn’t hesitate this time—he dialed the director.

“Starkey?”

“I need two days,” Drew said, voice gruff. “I’m not asking. I’m telling you.”

There was silence on the other end.

“Something happen?”

“I hung up on my wife by accident. After telling her I loved her and then making her feel like I didn’t. So yeah—something happened.”

Another pause. Then a sigh. “Alright. Two days. Don’t make me regret it.”

“You won’t.”

The airport was buzzing, loud and impersonal, but Drew moved through it on autopilot, booking the soonest flight out like a man possessed.

There was a kiosk just past security that sold flowers—cheap airport bouquets, all wrapped in crinkly cellophane—but he stopped anyway.

He stood there longer than he should’ve, staring at them like they could somehow fix the last three months. The last three days.

“Need help?” the cashier asked.

Drew nodded once, eyes landing on a bouquet of white tulips and blush peonies, her favorite.

“I’ll take those.”

The woman wrapped them slowly, chatting about nothing, and he kept nodding even though he wasn’t listening. His pulse didn’t slow until he was seated on the plane, flowers in his lap, staring out the window and counting the minutes until he could make it right.

Charleston felt warmer the moment he stepped out of the airport.

It always did.

He kept the window down in the taxi, let the breeze wash over him as they drove through streets he knew like the back of his hand.

The office was a brick building tucked between a yoga studio and a secondhand bookstore. Ivy crawled up the side like it had been trying to get inside for years.

He hesitated at the entrance.

The flowers were still in his hand, the stems damp from the melting airport ice pack. He wiped them quickly on his jeans, tried to shake the nerves out of his fingers.

He saw her car parked out front and almost turned around. Almost.

Instead, he stepped inside.

The receptionist—Sienna—looked up from her desk, startled. Her eyes went wide.

“Drew?”

“Hey,” he said, offering a small, sheepish smile. “She in?”

Sienna nodded slowly. “Yeah, she’s here. Her door’s closed but—”

“I’ll knock,” he said.

She opened the door after two knocks, and the look on her face nearly undid him.

She was tired. Still beautiful, still herself, but visibly tired in a way that made his gut twist. Like she hadn’t slept in days. Like his silence had carved something hollow in her that she didn’t know how to fill.

She blinked. “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” he said, voice soft. “I’m here.”

He held out the flowers, suddenly feeling like they weren’t nearly enough. “I know it’s stupid. And they’re from the airport. But…”

She reached out, took them from him without a word.

For a moment, they just stood there, neither one sure what to say.

The ride home was quiet, but not cold. She drove, one hand on the wheel, the other resting just inches from where his sat on the center console. He didn’t reach for her. Not yet.

When they got inside, Teddy was the first to break the tension, leaping onto Drew’s legs like no time had passed.

Drew laughed, crouching down to hug him. “Hey, buddy.”

She walked past him into the living room, setting the flowers in a vase like her hands needed something to do.

“Why’d you come back?” she asked finally.

He stood there for a long beat. “Because you were right.”

She turned to face him. “About what?”

“About everything.” He stepped closer. “I let the noise drown out the only voice I should’ve been listening to. I let you feel alone in something we were supposed to be in together.”

He sat down on the edge of the couch. “I kept telling myself the distance was temporary. That you understood. That love was enough. But I stopped showing it. And that’s on me.”

She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “I didn’t want to doubt you, Drew.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t want to feel like I was losing you.”

“You’re not,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I swear. I’m still yours. I just forgot how to say it in a way you could hear.”

She didn’t speak for a while. Then: “You didn’t even tell me you were coming.”

“I wanted to show up before I talked myself out of it.” He looked up at her. “I didn’t know if you’d want to see me.”

“I always want to see you,” she whispered.

He stood, closing the distance. Slowly. Carefully.

“I miss us,” he said. “The stupid jokes. Your half-finished coffees. Fighting over blankets and waking up to your hair in my face. I miss hearing about your day instead of reading between your posts.”

She looked at him for a long time, eyes glimmering. Then: “I miss us too.”

He reached for her hand, and this time, she let him.

“I’ll post photos of me kissing your forehead every damn day. I’ll FaceTime you from set, from the makeup chair, from the bathroom if that’s the only private place I can find. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you feel like you’re not competing with a spotlight I never even wanted” he murmured.

“You don’t have to do all that,” she said, though her voice cracked. “Just… don’t disappear on me again.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “I couldn’t. You’re the only thing that keeps me grounded.”

She stepped into him then—just barely—and he wrapped his arms around her like something sacred.

Teddy circled them twice before settling by their feet, tail thumping.

They stayed like that for a while.

And when she finally looked up at him, eyes softer now, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and whispered, “I’m not going anywhere.”

This time, she believed him.

And this time, he meant it.

[its-avalon-08]

helloo so apparently you’re back? i hope so, i really like ur work! are u taking requests for yuki? if not just ignore this but if u’re can u pls write a fic where he’s kind of neglecting reader because he’s focused in his home race and all the changes happening so reader almost breaks up with him but they ended up working it out?!

{ im back and thank you so much <3 ! I had something so similar in my drafts, so I posted this rally quickly, spelling mistakes might be there. enjoy }

Fading Into You (yt22)

✦ pairing - yuki tsunoda x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, fighting, happy ending

At first, it was just little things.

monday

Y/N woke up to an empty bed. Hmm, strange. That never happened before.

She stretched her arm across the sheets, feeling the cold side where Yuki should’ve been. He must’ve left early. Again.

It wasn’t unusual for him to be up before her during race weeks, but he always made a point to wake her—pressing a sleepy kiss to her temple, whispering a quiet "See you later, baby.” It was routine. Comforting.

But this morning, there was nothing.

She checked her phone. No message. No "Good morning" text. Just radio silence.

Maybe he was just tired. Maybe he forgot.

She shook it off but a part of her realised that this wasn't Yuki.

tuesday

He came home late. Again.

Y/N had been waiting, their usual dinner-for-two going cold on the table. She told herself she wouldn’t be upset. That he was working hard. That she understood.

But when the clock hit 11:30 PM and he finally walked through the door, she still felt that pang of disappointment.

“Hey,” she greeted softly, standing up. “I made dinner—”

“Uh I already ate so like.....”

The words were quick, dismissive. He didn’t even glance at the untouched plates on the table as he dropped his bag by the door and collapsed onto the couch, rubbing his eyes.

Y/N swallowed. “You could’ve told me y'know? So I wouldn't waste my time?.”

He sighed, finally looking at her. “God it's not a big deal. Sorry. It was just… a long day.”

And just like that, the conversation was over.

wednesday

Yuki had always been affectionate.

He kissed her absentmindedly when he passed her in the kitchen. Held her waist when they brushed shoulders in the hallway. Squeezed her hand when they watched TV.

But now?

The kisses had turned into quick pecks. The pecks had turned into nothing.

Y/N watched as he scrolled through his phone at the dining table, his untouched breakfast in front of him. She reached out, brushing her fingers against his for him to curl his fingers and intertwine them with hers.

He barely reacted.

“Yuki?”

“Hm?” His eyes didn’t leave the screen.

She hesitated, then sighed. “Nothing.”

She wondered if he even noticed how much had changed.

thursday

Y/N woke up to the sound of Yuki’s voice.

Still half-asleep, she smiled, expecting to hear him talking to her.

But when she blinked awake, she realized he was on the phone.

“…Yeah, I’ll be there at seven. Wait actually when will Max be there?” A pause. “No, let’s push that to later—actually, just text me, I’ll figure it out.”

He was standing by the window, his back turned to her. He hadn’t even noticed she was awake.

Y/N sat up slowly, the blanket pooling around her. “Yuki?”

“Y/N one sec I'm busy,” he mumbled, still on the phone.

Her stomach twisted.

Before, he would’ve ended the call just to kiss her good morning. Before, he would’ve at least acknowledged her.

Now, she wasn’t even sure if he realized she was there.

She laid back down, staring at the ceiling.

This felt different.

friday

She barely saw him.

He had left before she woke up, and by the time he came home, she was already in bed. She heard him moving around in the dark, pulling off his hoodie, plugging in his phone.

She wanted to say something.

Wanted to roll over, grab his wrist, and ask if he even missed her.

But she didn’t.

Because she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.

saturday

Y/N wasn’t even mad.

She was tired.

Tired of waiting. Tired of being an afterthought.

She had followed Yuki around the paddock all morning, feeling more like a lost assistant than his girlfriend. He barely spoke to her, barely looked at her, completely immersed in briefings and media obligations. She stayed close anyway, hoping—just once—that he’d turn around and reach for her hand, or check if she was keeping up.

He didn’t.

And then, just when she thought it couldn’t get worse, he left without her.

One minute, she was answering a question from a Red Bull staff member. The next, she turned around and his car was gone.

Gone.

What the actual fuck?

Like she wasn’t even there.

Like she didn’t exist.

She didn’t realize how frozen she was until she heard Max’s voice.

“Where’s Yuki?”

She turned to see Max and Kelly standing a few feet away, both watching her with concerned expressions.

“He left.” Her voice barely came out.

Kelly’s brows furrowed. “Without you?”

Y/N exhaled sharply, pushing her fingers through her hair. “Yeah.”

Max muttered something in Dutch under his breath before shaking his head. “Come on Y/N. We’re not leaving you here like some people.”

She didn’t argue. She let them lead her to Max’s car, let Kelly rub soft circles on her back, let the silence of the drive back sink into her bones. She saw Max and Kelly just co-exist so beautifully in the car, Max's hand on Kelly's pregnant belly, Kelly humming a soft tune and Max joining in. She missed it all with Yuki.

She had put up with the unread messages. The rushed conversations. The loss of affection. She had told herself to wait. That things would get better after the race.

But this?

Being forgotten?

That was the final straw.

Y/N wasn’t even shaking when she walked into their apartment. She thought she would be. Thought she would be angry, would be crying. But she wasn’t.

She was numb.

She locked the door behind her, kicked off her shoes, and walked straight into the bedroom without bothering to check if Yuki was home.

Except—

He was.

Sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone like nothing had happened.

Like she hadn’t spent the last hour being driven home by Max and Kelly because he forgot her.

Like she hadn’t felt the most humiliated she had ever been in their entire relationship.

Yuki barely looked up when she walked in. “Hey, you’re late,” he mumbled.

Y/N froze in the doorway, gripping the strap of her bag so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“I’m late?” Her voice came out eerily calm, but she felt the storm brewing inside.

Yuki finally looked at her properly, brows furrowing. “Yeah. I thought you left before me?”

She laughed. A sharp, humorless sound. “You fucking thought?”

Yuki blinked. “What?”

She dropped her bag onto the floor. “You- you just left me there!”

His expression flickered. “Shit,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “I—fuck, I didn’t mean to—”

“You forgot me, Yuki.” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t let herself break. “I was standing there like an idiot, waiting for you, while you just—fucking left.”

“I—I wasn’t thinking, I was just caught up in—”

“You weren’t thinking because you don’t think about me anymore! That's just the truth. You don't care and I'm just a task now aren't I? ”

The words hit the air like a gunshot.

Yuki’s mouth opened slightly, like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t.

Because he knew she was right.

Y/N scoffed, shaking her head. “This whole week, Yuki. It wasn’t just today. I’ve been right here, watching you pull away from me like I don’t exist. Like I’m just… background noise in your life now.”

Yuki stood up suddenly, like he wanted to come closer, but she took a step back.

“Baby, no—”

“Don’t even try and "baby" me right now.” Her voice was sharp, a warning.

He swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

“But you did Yuki. I don't really give a shit on if you meant it or not. This is not how you treat someone you love.” Her chest was rising and falling rapidly now, the numbness breaking apart, making way for all the emotions she had buried.

“Y/N—”

“You don’t kiss me anymore.” Her voice wavered. “You don’t talk to me. You don’t see me, Yuki.”

Yuki ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “That’s not true.”

“Really?” Her eyes burned. “Then tell me the last time you asked me how my day was.”

Silence.

Yuki’s jaw clenched.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, pressing her fingers against her forehead. “I don’t know why I even waited this long. I kept telling myself that you’d remember me eventually. That after the race, you’d come back. But maybe… maybe you’re already gone.”

Yuki’s head snapped up. “No. No, don’t—”

“I can’t keep waiting for you, Yuki,” she whispered.

Panic flickered across his face. “Baby, please, don’t say that. I—I know I fucked up, but I can fix this—”

She turned away. “I’m sleeping in the guest room.”

Yuki stepped forward quickly, grabbing her wrist. “Y/N, please.”

She pulled away like his touch burned her. His heart shattered that very moment. The woman he loved didn't want his touch anymore.

For the first time, Yuki’s eyes glistened. “I’ll do better, I swear. Just—don’t walk away from me.”

Y/N met his gaze, and the heartbreak on her face killed him.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me all week,” she said quietly. “You never did.”

She turned and walked away.

Yuki felt his chest cave in.

sunday

Yuki barely slept.

He spent the entire night staring at the ceiling, every single word Y/N had said playing on loop in his head.

He had done this.

He had pushed her so far away that now she was actually leaving.

And he couldn’t fucking breathe.

By the time he got to the paddock, his mind was only on her. Not the race. Not the pressure of performing in front of his home crowd.

He needed to find her.

But when he finally did, his stomach dropped.

She was standing near the Red Bull hospitality, talking to Kelly. Her arms were crossed, her shoulders tense. She looked—different. Done.

And Yuki broke.

He walked straight up to her, not caring who was watching, and grabbed her hands.

“Y/N.” His voice cracked.

She stiffened. “Yuki.”

He could see it in her eyes. She was already gone.

No, no, no.

“I’m sorry.” His voice came out hoarse. “I—fuck—I know I don’t deserve you after this week, I know I’ve been the worst fucking boyfriend, I know—” His breath was shaking. “But please. Don’t leave me.”

She swallowed, her fingers twitching in his grip. “Yuki, I—”

Before she could finish, he dropped to his knees.

Right there, in the middle of the paddock, in front of everyone.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Yuki—”

“I love you.” His voice was desperate, raw. “I love you so much, and I forgot to show you that. I got so caught up in my own shit that I—I left you behind.” His hands were gripping hers tightly, like he was afraid she’d disappear. “But I seeyou now. And I can’t—I can’t lose you.”

Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes.

People were watching. Journalists. Other drivers. Team members.

But Yuki didn’t care.

Let them see. Let them see how much he fucking loved her.

“I’ll prove it to you,” he whispered. “Every fucking day Y/N. Just—just give me another chance and I promise I will never let you feel like that again..”

A tear slipped down Y/N’s cheek.

Yuki reached up slowly, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch her. His fingers brushed her wrist. “Please, baby.”

Y/N exhaled shakily. “You hurt me, Yuki.”

His throat tightened. “I know.”

She hesitated, staring at him—at his wide, pleading eyes, at the way he was gripping onto her like she was the only thing keeping him upright.

She had spent the whole night convincing herself she was done. That she had nothing left to give.

But Yuki was right there.

Begging.

And despite everything, she still loved him. He was IT for her.

She sighed, dropping to her knees in front of him. “You have one chance, Tsunoda.”

Yuki’s breath hitched. “You mean—”

She nodded. “Don’t waste it.”

His arms wrapped around her instantly, burying his face in her shoulder as he let out a shaky breath. “I won’t,” he whispered. “I won’t.”

Y/N let herself sink into him, holding him just as tightly.

For the first time in weeks, Yuki finally felt whole again.

[mustardsticks]

Migyua's Stobotnik Gift Exchange

Totally forgot to post this on tumblr. This Gift was for @scaredofstyrofoam

Will also be adding details about my sonic prime stone because i got wayyy to into it. These details are not exactly fleshed out since I never really had the time beyond discord messages and me answering questions about their dynamic. Also please note that i did not watch all of sonic prime, i only got up to season 2.

Its angsty please remember that. Also please ask me any questions if you want, I will gladly share!

CW : Mentions of - violence/abuse, thoughts of suicide, loss of autonomy, and possibly more. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. Please also ignore any spelling or grammar mistakes lol I typed it up and never edited it.

In the shatterverse there is only one Agent Stone that exists. He's first the Agent/Assistant to Mr. Dr. Eggman and later on extends his role to the other members of the Chaos Councils when they meet and team up. There was an incident where Stone was injured beyond repair and was just waiting to die. The Chaos Council wouldn't let that happen so they turned him into a cyborg. They had built his body as human as possible, even giving him artificial nerves.

Now that Stone was a cyborg, he's also to do more things his human body wasn't able to do. He was also more efficient and needed less time to rest. The Chaos Council began to demand more from him and started to think of him as a robot, their property, and not human anymore.

One day Stone goes to Mr. Dr. Eggman asking him to let him go and deactivate him. While Stone was devoted and loyal to the Chaos Council, he was also suppose to die and didn't want to live. The problem is that he was still human. While his body might not reflect the damage, his brain still remembers the incident and Stone has phantom pains everywhere on his body and it really messes him up. He knows the Chaos Council only saved him because he believes they cared about him as much as he does. Stone tells him that it was unhealthy for them to cling to him, to preserve a life by building it a body. Mr. Dr. Eggman didn't like that, the idea of Stone not being by his side was impossible and so he took away Stone's autonomy, basically having full control of him so he couldn't leave because Stone is theirs. While Stone no longer had control of his body and his brain was numbed. He was still able to hear, see, and feel what does council does to him but he no longer able to feel the phantom pains.

Stone doesn't get the right side of his face robotized until after his autonomy was taken. I had the idea that either Dr. Babble or Dr. Done-it did it in a fit of rage. They took their anger out on Stone and injured him, they had smashed his head in and some more around his body. They never knew that they inflected that much damage on Stone as they also took their anger out on their surroundings. Rusty Rose pulled him out of there while they focused their rage on something else. She brings him to Mr. Dr. Eggman who helps him the damage severe and almost reversable, to save time he robotizes the right side of his face. Later he punishes the two council members by revoking their access to Stone.

[dckweed]

tiktok made me do it!gf vs tf 141 boys

You’ve seen the prank all over TikTok—sending song lyrics to your boyfriend over text and seeing how long it takes before he either catches on or panics.

But with your boyfriend? It goes exactly as expected.

(forgot to post this morning)

warnings: elisions to smut, ass smacking, borderline angry bfs.

Captain Price – "talk is cheap”

(Song: Take It On The Run – REO Speedwagon)

You: Heard it from a friend who heard it from another you been messin’ around.

John’s reply comes immediately.

John: …Pardon?

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh.

You: They say you got a boyfriendo, you’re up late every night.

John: Who the hell is “they” and why are they about to get a lesson in not spreading shite about me?

You: Talkin’ about you and it don’t seem right.

John: What the fuck?

You: But I know the neighborhood and talk is cheap.

You stare at your phone, waiting for a reply. Instead, you hear the distant sound of boots stomping down the hall, as if coming from his office not too far away.

You barely have a second to react before Price throws the door open, his expression deadly serious.

"What the fuck is this about?" he demands, holding up his phone.

You freeze. "Uhh…"

He squints at you, chest heaving. "Sweetheart. Tell me this is some kind of joke before I start making some phone calls."

You burst out laughing.

"*Oh my God, babe, it’s a song!"

His eyes narrow. "A song?"

You nod, still wheezing. "REO Speedwagon! Take It On The Run! It’s a prank!"

Silence.

Then—Price lets out the deepest sigh, dragging a hand down his face. "Jesus Christ, woman. I thought I was about to go interrogate the whole bloody street."

You snort. "I love that your first instinct was to fight everyone."

Price gives you a look. "You really wanna test my patience right now?"

You grin, wrapping your arms around his neck. "You’re so hot when you’re all protective."

He sighs again but kisses you anyway. "Damn woman’s gonna kill me someday."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick – "are we fighting?”

(Song: One More Night – Maroon 5)

You were bored, okay? the man left you to go on a run, he’d been gone for nearly an hour by now and you missed him..so what better to do than your favorite pass time of getting on his nerves? There was something your followers had been asking for since the last video you posted with him, and to you, it looked like the perfect opportunity has arisen..

You: You and I go hard at each other like we’re going to war.

Gaz: …What?

You: You and I go rough, we keep throwing things and slamming the door.

Gaz: Babe???

You: You and I get so damn dysfunctional, we stopped keeping score.

Silence. Then—

Gaz is calling…

You ignore it. Stay strong.

Gaz: Answer the phone.

Gaz: Right now.

Gaz: BABY.

You: I know I said it a million times…

Gaz: Said WHAT a million times?!?

Then—suddenly, the door to your bedroom bursts open.

Gaz stands in the doorway, wide-eyed and panting. "Are you okay?!"

You stare. "Kyle."

"Baby, what the fuck is going on? Are we fighting? Did I do something? Why are we—*" He stops mid-rant as he sees your phone screen—still on the text chat.

His face drops. "Oh my fucking God."

You lose it, falling onto the bed in hysterics.

"You absolute menace," he groans, rubbing his temples. "I just ran through the entire fucking neighborhood like an idiot."

You wipe away tears of laughter. "I love you so much."

He groans again, flopping onto the bed beside you. "You’re lucky I love you, too."

Simon "Ghost" Riley – “cryptic bullshit”

(Song: Love You Like A Woman – Lana Del Rey)

Simon had been gone all day, off at the base doing routine trainings and whatever else it is that he did (he never really told you his exact job description), he hadn’t texted you since breakfast and you assumed he was busy, but, you couldn’t resist screwing with him a little bit, you knew it wasn’t nice of you, but you truly enjoyed keeping him on his toes..

You: Talk to me in poems and songs.

Ghost: …What?

You: Don't make me be bittersweet.

Ghost: Sweetheart, what the fuck are you talking about?

You: Let me love you like a woman.

Ghost: …

You: Let me hold you like a baby.

Ghost: …

You: Let me shine like a diamond.

Silence.

Then—

Ghost is CALLING…

You ignore it, which admittedly isn’t your smartest move in the grand scheme of things..

Ghost: Answer the fucking phone.

You: Let me be who I’m meant to be.

Ghost: WHERE ARE YOU?

You: Talk to me in songs-

No response, you figure he’s gone back to work, that he’ll respond later. It doesn’t cross your mind that he could be making the ten minute drive home until you hear tires screeching as they come to a stop.

Through the curtains you can see the silhouette of the truck, of him jumping out and rushing to the porch. The front door swings open so violently that it nearly comes off the hinges.

Ghost stands in the doorway, all 6’4” of him, broad-shouldered and seething. His skull mask is pushed up onto his head, revealing his sharp, exasperated glare.

He crosses his arms, staring you down. "Talk to me in poems and songs? What the hell kinda cryptic bullshit is that?"

You crack up, practically folding in half in the armchair you’re perched on. "Oh my God, Simon, it was a prank! Song lyrics! Lana Del Rey!"

Ghost blinks. "You pranked me?"

"Yes!"

A muscle in his jaw twitches. "You had me thinking you were having some sort of existential breakdown and ignoring my calls for LANA DEL FUCKIN’ REY?!"

You wheeze, clutching your stomach. "You should’ve seen your face!"

"You should see yours when I’m done with you," he mutters, already closing the door behind him.

You blink. "What?"

His fingers flex. "Oh, sweetheart, you wanted my attention, didn’t you?*"

Your stomach drops. "Simon, wait—"

Too late.

Ghost lunges, sweeping you up effortlessly and tossing you onto the couch.

Your squeal is drowned out by his low, amused chuckle. "Let’s see how poetic you’re feelin’ after I’m through with you, love."

(Lesson learned: never mess with Ghost unless you’re prepared for consequences.)

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish – "in the club doin a murder"

(Song: Gorgeous – Taylor Swift)

You had just come back from girls night, tipsy and craving your favorite persons attention, though he’s nowhere to be seen as you toss your bag onto the empty couch, the tv was playing what looked like an old football match, and there were a couple of beer bottles littered on the coffee table..stumbling to the bedroom you toss yourself lazily onto the bed, half on, half off, ass pointed towards the door as you swipe your phone open, pulling up your message thread, you felt like fucking with him a little.

You: You should take it as a compliment, that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk.

Soap: EXCUSE ME??

You: And I got a boyfriend, he’s older than us.

Soap: WHAT FUCKIN BOYFRIEND?!

You: He's in the club doing, I don’t know what.

Soap: I’M ABOUT TO BE IN THE CLUB DOIN’ A MURDER, WHO THE FUCK—

You: You’re so gorgeous!

Soap: YER DAMN RIGHT I AM, BUT WHO THE FUCK IS THIS BOYFRIEND YER TALKIN’ ABOUT?!

You: I can't say anything to your face.

Soap: WELL YE BETTER FUCKIN START BECAUSE I AM TWO SECONDS FROM LOSIN’ IT.

You: ‘Cause look at your face.

Soap: STOP TRYIN’ TO BUTTER ME UP AND ANSWER ME, WOMAN.

Then—

Soap is CALLING…

You ignore it, pouting because you were in the middle of typing something and he interrupted.

Soap: ANSWER. THE. PHONE.

Soap: WHERE THE FUCK ARE YE?

Soap: YER ACTIN’ SHADY AS FUCK, LASS, I SWEAR—

His little bubbles go away and you start typing again, wondering if he was checking your location so he could come whisk you away. Before you can even finish typing another response, you hear the thunderous stomp of boots approaching. He mustve been down in the basement..

Then—BANG.

The door slams open.

Soap stands there, looking red-faced and furious, chest heaving like he just ran to find you. His hands are braced on the doorframe, like he’s physically holding himself back from shaking the answers out of you.

"What the fuck is this?!" he demands, holding up his phone.

You burst into laughter, barely able to breathe. "Oh my God, Johnny, it’s song lyrics!"

His eye twitches. "Song lyrics."

"Taylor Swift, babe! It was a prank—"

Soap lets out the most dramatic groan, dropping his phone onto the table as he scrubs his hands down his face. "*Ye mean to tell me I just sprinted through the fuckin’ house for TAYLOR SWIFT?”

"I’m so sorry—"

"Yer not," he accuses, glaring at you. "Ye knew I’d lose my fuckin’ mind over that shite!" He stalks towards you, you’re still half off of the bed, ass facing him.

You wipe away tears of laughter. "Aww, you got all jealous and protective. That’s kinda hot, Johnny."

He glares at you, and you don’t see his hand raise until he’s swinging it down, landing on your ass with a thwack. “Wanted to fuck around and find out, hm? Well, there’s plenty more where that came from, lass."

Your eyes sparkle. "Promise?" You wiggle your ass playfully, sly smile on your face..

Soap’s expression shifts—his jaw clenches, his blue eyes darkening just slightly.

You don’t have time to react before he lunges, grabbing you around the waist and hauling you over onto your back like a sack of potatoes, spreading your legs as he notches himself between them, the skirt of your too mini for his liking dress riding up to your waist.

"JOHNNY—!"

"Ye wanted my attention, lass? Well, ye fuckin’ got it now."

(Turns out, pranking your highly emotional, dramatic Scotsman has consequences.)