#the place they built with their hands. to have it just... stop. not in a way of repeating and staying in the moment

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫 — 𝐌.𝐒.

Synopsis: Matt finds out about your self harm.

Warnings: Self harm, mentions of not eating, angst, overall dark themes. Read at your own discretion.

A/N: Please reach out to hotlines if you are struggling, you are not alone <333

With love and big tits, Rose

wc: 1500+

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00: Not-so-sweet escape

Everyone needs an escape. Reality is harsh, too painful to bathe in every second of the day. All you wanted was something you could cope with, something that would make the ache of breathing sting a little less. 

It started small—very small. Sometimes you’d purposefully just not eat, purposefully make your body feel weak. But it escalated. Like everything else, the addiction became lethal. 

01: Fake it

You’re exhausted. Every bone feels like it’s withering away beneath your itchy skin. It’s like your body is reacting to your mind, mimicking how dead you feel. 

The bathroom is dark. You’ve been sitting on the cold tile for ages, wishing that the dark would somehow consume you. But it doesn’t. All it does is mock you in silence, the quiet peace haunting your running thoughts, jealousy burning through your face as you feel tears swell in your eyes. 

“Hey, do you wanna go out for ice cream?” 

Matt. He knocks softly, his brows furrowed as he sees the lack of light illuminating from the door gap from the floor. He’s worried. He doesn’t wanna say anything, he barely has a reason to be concerned other than the fact that he can just feel it—feel something awful as if it’s contagious. 

The lump in your throat is thick. You bite down hard on your inner cheek, letting the back of your head fall against the wall. “Yeah, that… that sounds like fun.” 

You don’t have it in yourself to do anything but pretend. 

02: Pretty Weak

It’s running smoothly until it doesn’t. The way you fake it is sometimes too convincing. You find yourself truly believing in hope until you’re alone again, feening for some sort of relief that you don’t think will ever come. 

The sun is rising, your mind is barely awake. Matt has your face nuzzled in his chest, his hand wrapped around the bottom of your thigh as he pulls you in even closer, kissing the top of your head lovingly. 

“You look so pretty,” he compliments. 

And then it stops. Those words trigger your body to stiffen just the slightest before falling lifelessly. You don’t feel pretty. And it wasn’t necessarily about your body either, it was your eyes. They looked so… dull—like something inside your body had failed, leaving you as some sort of corpse left to rot in reality. 

“I’m gonna go make breakfast, okay? You stay here, I wanna eat in bed with you.” 

His words are sweet, truly. But they make you feel guilty. He’s so full of love, everything good. And you’re full of… well, you’re full of nothing. Your blood feels like dust, your tears caressing your cheeks like dry clouds. 

It’s just so empty, so useless. 

As Matt leaves the room, you can’t help but stare towards the bathroom. You want it. You want it so bad. The relief is all that seems to linger when you recall memories of such a brutal coping mechanism. You can’t find it in yourself to search for the reasons why you stopped in the first place. 

But you don’t. You can’t. 

He’ll see it. 

Anywhere you put a single mark, Matt would always see it. You live together, he constantly helps get you dressed, sometimes you even shower together. But right now? Right now you just don’t care—not when you feel this unbearable urge, an unbearable itch. You need it. 

And the worst part? The worst part is that you feel so weak. Nothing bad has even happened. Your boyfriend’s making you breakfast after calling you pretty and somehow that isn’t enough to make you happy. 

03: Cope 

Relationships are supposed to be built and maintained on bricks of trust. And that’s what you have with Matt. Well, used to. You’ve been lying to him constantly, giving excuses, avoiding him like the plague—even though you feel like you’re the disease. 

But it’s just too much. You can’t put this on him, you won’t. Not when this isn’t his battle to fight, not when you gave into the past addiction so easily. 

“Sweetheart, do you wanna take a bath together? I got all the fun stuff,” he says excitedly, lifting items out of a plastic grocery bag, showing you all the best things—bubbles, candles, scrubs… everything. 

He didn’t do it for any other reason other than wanting to spend more intimate time with you. Physical touch is important to him. It doesn’t necessarily mean sex, but he craves your skin on his, he needs the rawness of being close to you. 

You feel bad rejecting the offer. In all honesty, it sounds so nice. But you can’t. Not when you know he’ll see it. Then he’ll worry. And he doesn’t need to worry. This helps you, he wouldn’t understand that. 

Matt’s shoulders slump as he tries to spare a small smile, not wanting to seem too disappointed. The awful guilt crawls up your chest, creating a lump in your throat. 

And there’s only one way to cope. 

04: He Knows

His heart feels like it’s ripping out of his chest. The more hints he slowly picks up on, the more he realizes what’s really going on. He doesn’t want to believe it. Denial is logical to him. Afterall, you’d tell him, right?

The trust he has for you is unfathomable, immeasurable. He’s certain you’d tell him. He’s certain he’d know immediately if things were that bad. 

And then he stops feeling the ripping of his heart in his chest. Instead, he hears it—a loud cry leaving his lips. 

Matt was never one to snoop. He respects your privacy more than anything. But he saw pink water resting above the shower drain after you had exited fully clothed. You’re not on your period, he knows that for a fact. And—you didn’t really shave in that quick of a shower. 

He knows. 

05: Lose

They’ve gone missing. Every tool you’ve ever used and hidden in your bathroom drawer—they’re just… gone. 

Your stomach drops, your fingers aching as you furiously shuffle through the miscellaneous products in your drawer, trying to find anything. But it’s not there. 

Matt couldn’t bring himself to fully confront you without knowing more. The pink water haunted him as he flipped through the pages of your journal, his stomach twisting in knots when he saw the dates trace back further and further.

How did he not know sooner? 

What if he had never known until it was too late? 

Even the thought makes him sick. He can’t fathom the thought of you completely out of his everyday life. He needs you. 

Matt hears you rummaging through the drawers, his chest shaking as he tries to take a deep breath. 

He’s just not ready to lose you. 

06: Lost

Horrified fear. The look on your face is viciously distraught, your hands twisting into fists as you sit on the edge of the bed, Matt’s voice ringing through the air. He explains the pink water, how he didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy, he was only concerned. 

Part of you is angry. You want to snap at him for going through your stuff. But he had a valid reason—he wasn’t wrong. 

“-and I’ll help. We can look into therapists, I’m here every step of the way–”

“You don’t understand, Matt.” 

Your words are bitter. Matt’s face scrunches, almost as if he’s in pain. It hurts to look at someone you love suffering—especially when they’re looking at you with pure hatred. And that’s exactly what you’re doing. 

Although, you don’t hate him, you hate how he makes you see yourself. You’re weak. You couldn’t even reach out for help to your boyfriend who has never failed you. 

It could’ve been worse. He could’ve lost you. But as you walk out the door, it kinda feels like he has. 

07: Escape

Oh god it hurt his heart. The pain in his chest is the most brutal violence of emotions he has ever felt in his life. And he just wants it to stop, but he knows it won’t. Not when he’s holding you, consoling you as you scream at him. 

“I know it’s bad! I’m not fucking stupid, I just-”

Your words fall weaker, your fists hammering against his chest starting to unclench as you let out a sad cry.

“I just needed an escape.”

08: Revolving Door

Your cheek is raw from how often your teeth seemed to knaw into the muscle. Matt’s sitting on the desk chair, trying to not stare at you as you write down in a journal. 

You refused to go to therapy. The thought of saying everything out loud made you sick. So, this is the best he could come up with—put it on a page so it doesn’t have to rest in your mind. And honestly, it helped. It helped more long term than anything else.

But you just missed it—the immediate relief. 

Matt assures you that you’re not weak when you explain this to him. He’s there to let you cry and sit numbly, as long as he’s there to make sure you’re safe—not walking into the revolving door until you’re so scattered that you don’t even know how to get back out. 

He loves you—even if it’s not as a lover and just as a soul. He’ll hold open any door, take you places that make it easier to breathe. He makes you feel strong—strong enough to not turn back to that revolving door.

[mingi-s-dimples]

「 Daddy's Summer Fling - J.YH 」

"So soft, baby… wonder if you’d shiver like this if I touched you somewhere else..”

~"Dilf Yunho x Daughter's best friend. She visits her friends place for the summer where her dad will be too. Reader is attracted to him, things ensue, ~ anon

pairing: dilf!yunho x fem student!reader

genre: 18+, filth

summary: your friend has a wonderful idea of asking you to spend the summer at her father’s vacation house... little did you know you'd not only spend the nights there.. but also nights with him.

wc: 9.9k

warnings: dilf!yunho, college student! reader, age gap (about 18 years - 20/38), virgin reader, daddy kink, size kink, praise & slight drgradation, overstimulation, manhandling, voyeurism/exhibitionism (semi-public/public touches), slight corruption kink, slight oral fixation (finger and cock sucking), light breath play (choking), face fucking, cum eating, fingering, dacryphilia, praise kink, cockwarming, breeding kink, marking, backshots, huge cock!yunho, pain kink, possessiveness, unprotected (boo use protection irl!!), completely consensual, for sureeee forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Notes: this was insaneeee to write... sorry anon for taking me so long, I had to write it as well as possible and well- it has almost 10k words. whoops. I hope you enjoy this lil (metaphorically speaking) fic and if you do don't hesitate to dm me or send me an anon ask with your thoughts! ♡

Reminder that reblogs, comments and likes help lots with my engagement and I will forever be grateful for each of you ♡

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

“You should come with me to visit my dad over this summer,” your best friend had suggested one lazy afternoon, sprawled out on your dorm room bed. “He has this amazing summer house by the lake—huge place, so we’ll have all the space we need to chill. Plus, I barely get to see him during the school year, so I try to spend as much time there as I can.”

You had hesitated at first, not because you didn’t want to go, but because it felt… intimate. Staying at her father’s house for an extended period wasn’t like crashing at her dorm or her mom’s place back in the city. It was different. Personal. But when she assured you he wouldn’t mind—that, in fact, he’d be happy to have you over—you agreed.

And now, as you stepped out of your parents’ car, the summer heat blanketing your skin, you were beyond grateful you’d said yes.

The house was beautiful—exactly how she had described it. Rustic yet modern, tucked away in nature with a view of the lake in the distance. But none of that held your attention. No, your focus was entirely on the man standing in the courtyard.

He had his back to you at first, broad and impossibly strong, the muscles in his shoulders shifting as he raised a hand to wipe sweat from his brow. His tanned skin gleamed under the sunlight, glistening with sweat as he worked, the flex of his biceps hypnotizing as he adjusted something on the wooden fence. Your throat went dry. He was gorgeous—tall, built like a dream, dark hair damp and tousled. Holy fuck.

“Who is that?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself, eyes locked onto him.

Your best friend glanced at where you were staring, then grinned. “Oh, that’s my dad.”

Your stomach dropped. Her dad. As in, her father. The man you had just been shamelessly ogling like he was carved from marble. Heat flooded your face so fast it made you lightheaded. You tried to snap your gaze away, but it was too late—he had turned, sharp brown eyes locking onto yours.

And just like that, you were even more screwed. Because now that you could see his face, he was somehow even hotter. A sharp jawline, high cheekbones, a hint of stubble across his chin. His lips were full, slightly parted as he caught his breath from whatever work he’d been doing. His gaze flickered over you once, quick but assessing, before settling on your best friend.

You forced yourself to look away, heart hammering. This was going to be a long summer.

You managed to shake off your embarrassment—at least on the surface—as your best friend ran up to hug her father. He greeted her with a warm smile, wrapping an arm around her before turning his attention to you.

“So you’re the infamous best friend I’ve been hearing about,” he said, his voice smooth, deep, and effortlessly confident. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Infamous? Your best friend had talked about you to him? You swallowed hard, forcing a polite smile as you shook the hand he offered. His grip was firm, fingers warm and slightly rough from whatever work he’d been doing. “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Jeong.”

He let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. “Just Yunho is fine. ‘Mr. Jeong’ makes me feel ancient.”

You nodded, cheeks still warm. Yunho. Just Yunho. That was going to be a problem.

After unloading your bags and settling into the guest room, you spent the afternoon exploring the property. The house was just as stunning inside as it was outside—spacious, open, with large windows that overlooked the lake. As the sun dipped lower, the heat softened, replaced by the golden glow of early evening.

That’s how you found yourself outside, sitting on the wooden steps of the back porch, watching the water shimmer under the setting sun. Your best friend had gone to take a call inside, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Or at least, you thought you were alone.

“You like it here?”

You nearly jumped at the deep voice, turning to find Yunho standing nearby. He had changed out of his sweaty work clothes, now in a loose button-up with the top two buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He looked even better like this—casual, effortless.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, gripping your knees to keep your hands from fidgeting. “It’s beautiful.”

He hummed, stepping forward to lean against the railing. “I try to come out here as much as I can. It’s quiet, peaceful. Good place to get away from everything.”

You nodded, watching the water ripple as a breeze passed through. “I can see why.”

There was a comfortable silence before he spoke again. “You seem a little nervous.”

You stiffened. Was it that obvious? “I—no,” you lied. “Just… new place, new environment.”

His lips twitched, not quite a smirk but close. “Well, make yourself at home. You’re welcome here.”

The way he said it—low, slow, with that smooth voice of his—made something stir inside you. You could feel his eyes on you, heavier than before, like he was actually looking at you now. Not just as his daughter’s best friend, but as something else.

You swallowed, shifting under his gaze. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence. Then he chuckled, shaking his head as he looked back at the lake. “You remind me of someone.”

You tilted your head. “Who?”

A pause. Then, quietly, “Me.”

That threw you off. “You?”

He nodded. “When I was younger, I was like that too. A little quiet, a little unsure. Always overthinking instead of just… enjoying things.”

Your brows furrowed slightly. “You don’t seem like that now.”

“I’m not,” he admitted. “Life has a way of changing you.”

His voice had dropped, just a little. And you couldn’t help but wonder what had changed him—what had made him go from the person he used to be to the man standing in front of you now. For the first time, you weren’t just seeing him as your best friend’s father. You were seeing him.

Before you could respond, the screen door creaked open, and your best friend came rushing out, practically bouncing on her feet.

“Oh! I just had the best idea!” she announced, completely oblivious to the subtle shift in energy between you and her father. “Let’s go swimming! The lake is so warm this time of year, and the sun’s setting—it’s perfect.”

You blinked, still processing your conversation with Yunho, but she was already grabbing your hand. “Come on, you brought your swimsuit, right? Let’s change and go!”

You barely had a chance to glance at Yunho before she was dragging you inside.

Minutes later, you found yourself standing at the edge of the dock, the lake stretching endlessly in front of you. The last of the sunlight cast everything in a golden glow, the water lapping gently at the wooden beams beneath your feet.

Your best friend was already diving in, splashing as she resurfaced with a grin. “Come on! It’s perfect!”

Taking a breath, you stepped forward, adjusting the strings of your bikini before following her in. The water was warmer than expected, smooth and inviting as it wrapped around your skin. You surfaced with a gasp, wiping droplets from your lashes.

And then you saw him. Yunho had just emerged from the house, walking toward the dock with an easy, unbothered stride. He had changed into black swim trunks, the drawstrings hanging loose over his hips. But what really got you—what made your breath hitch—was his bare torso.

You’d thought he was attractive before. But now? Seeing him like this, all toned muscle and golden skin, veins running down his forearms, droplets of water from his damp hair trailing down his chest—he looked like he belonged on the cover of some magazine.

And then his gaze flicked to yours.

It was barely a second, just a glance as he stepped onto the dock, but it sent something sharp through you. His eyes lingered—just a little too long—before he turned away, stretching his arms overhead like he hadn’t just knocked the air from your lungs.

You quickly ducked your head, hoping your face wasn’t as red as it felt.

A loud splash pulled you from your thoughts as Yunho finally joined you both in the water. He swam easily, his strokes controlled, smooth, before he surfaced near you. The lake was big, but suddenly it felt too small, his presence swallowing the space between you.

Your best friend, oblivious as ever, floated on her back a few feet away, humming to herself.

And that’s when it started.

The first touch was barely anything—just a brush of his arm against yours as he swam past you. But it was deliberate. The second came when he surfaced beside you again, his hand grazing your back under the water. You froze, lips parting slightly, but he didn’t even look at you. Like nothing had happened.

Then, when you shifted to float on your back, your stomach grazing the surface, something firm, warm, pressed again against your lower back—his hand. Just for a second. A silent, lingering touch that sent heat spiraling through your body.

He was testing you.

And then, just when you thought you were imagining it all, when you thought maybe you were overreacting—

His fingers brushed your hand again. More lingering.. A featherlight touch, fleeting but unmistakable. Your breath caught in your throat.

But when you turned to look at him, his expression was unreadable. Calm. Unbothered. Like he hadn’t just crossed a line neither of you could take back.

You tried to focus on the water, on the way the golden ripples shimmered around you, on anything but the weight of Yunho’s fingers barely grazing your thigh under the surface.

But you couldn’t. Not when your body felt hot despite the cool lake, not when your mind kept replaying every subtle touch, every lingering glance. And definitely not when you could feel him watching you.

Yunho let out a quiet hum, tilting his head slightly. "You’re not very good at hiding it, sweetheart. The way your eyes drop to my hands, my arms… like you’re imagining them all over you."

And then, just when you thought you had a grip on yourself, Yunho moved closer. Not much—just enough that you could feel the water shift between you, enough that his shoulder brushed yours again, his skin warm even in the cool lake.

He was too close. But not close enough. You exhaled shakily. “You’re making it worse.”

His lips twitched, gaze dropping briefly—to your lips?—before meeting your eyes again. “Am I?” It wasn’t fair. The way he spoke, the way he looked at you now—like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he was enjoying it.

But you weren’t innocent either. Not when you found yourself leaning in just slightly, not when you let your fingers skim the surface of the water between you, almost—almost—brushing against his chest before pulling away.

His jaw tightened, just for a second.

“Careful, baby.” he murmured.

It wasn’t a warning. It was a challenge.

Your breath hitched, fingers curling against your palm. You wanted to push. You wanted to see just how much you could pull from him, how far he’d let you go before he finally cracked.

But before you could say anything, before you could cross a line you weren’t sure you could come back from—

“Alright, I’m freezing,” your best friend announced, completely shattering the moment as she waded toward the dock. “I’m gonna make some hot cocoa. You guys coming?”

You inhaled sharply, blinking as if snapping out of a trance. Yunho was still watching you, his expression unreadable, but he said nothing as he turned away, swimming toward the dock with effortless strokes.

You hesitated, heart still racing, before following after them.

The sun was dipping lower now, painting the sky with streaks of orange and purple. Your best friend had already climbed onto the dock, shaking herself off with a giggle.

“Hurry up, you two!” she called, turning around. “The sun’s almost gone, and I want marshmallows and hot cocoa before it’s dark!”

You barely had time to respond before she disappeared inside the house.

But you didn’t need to.

You could feel Yunho beside you, his presence undeniable, heavy in the air like a magnet pulling you closer.

Without saying a word, you both followed your best friend back into the warmth of the house. The kitchen was cozy, and your best friend was already pulling out skewers and marshmallows from the cupboard, humming happily to herself.

The porch door opened wide, and she called to you both, “You guys coming? The fire pit’s waiting!”

Yunho glanced over his shoulder at you before stepping outside. The heat in his gaze was unmistakable now. It made your pulse skip, and you tried to focus on anything other than the way he’d looked at you in the lake.

Your best friend immediately took a seat by the fire, poking the marshmallow onto the end of her skewer with an exaggerated flourish. You sat beside her, glancing at Yunho, who was standing slightly behind you. His eyes flicked to yours for the briefest moment, but you couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not. The heat of his gaze, as if he was searching for something on your face. Without thinking, you grabbed a marshmallow from the bag and stuck it onto the skewer. Your hands shook slightly, but you tried to ignore it.

The fire crackled, snapping in the still air, and your best friend shifted, glancing between you and Yunho with a teasing smile. “You guys are awfully quiet. Someone’s gotta talk! Tell me you’ve been getting along.” Your best friend was too chill for your liking.. maybe because her father had her young and had a closer bond with him but, you couldn’t shake off the feeling of being wanted by him. That feeling only made it worse for you all day.

You forced a smile, but your mind was elsewhere. Your thoughts kept drifting to the way his hand had brushed against yours in the water, how close he had been when you were swimming. How every interaction between you felt charged with something unspoken.

As the marshmallows started to brown over the fire, you felt Yunho step closer. You didn’t look up at him, but you could feel his presence. The way his body loomed over yours, the subtle shift in his posture that told you he was right there—watching.

The fire crackled, the only sound between you, and you could feel his breath just behind your ear.

"You're so easy to mess with, baby. One little touch and you're already breathless”, Yunho murmured, his voice low and barely audible over the crackling flames. “It’s hard to focus when you’re right here…”

Your breath caught in your throat. Did he really just say that?

Your best friend, oblivious, leaned forward, blowing air at her marshmallow to cool it down. “What are you two talking about? Are y’all gossiping about me, huh? I’m dying to know!”

You nearly jumped when Yunho shifted his weight, stepping away just slightly. But the damage had been done—the tension between you two was now palpable.

You glanced at him quickly, just enough to catch him looking back at you, a hint of something dangerous in his eyes.

You took a deep breath and shoved the marshmallow into the flames, letting it burn just a little too much. It was easier to focus on the heat of the fire than the heat of Yunho’s gaze. But you knew, deep down, that the fire wasn’t the only thing burning between you.

The marshmallows were finished, the sweet gooey centers burnt just enough to give them that perfect crisp, and your best friend was happily munching away, occasionally giving you a sly look.

You tried to ignore the fire that was burning between you and Yunho. You could feel him, the heat of his body next to yours as you both stared at the flickering flames.

You didn't dare look at him directly. The air felt too heavy, and your best friend didn’t notice—too distracted by the phone in her hand.

“Hold on,” she said, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “It’s my boyfriend. I’ll just be a sec.” She took the call, stepping away from the fire pit for some privacy.

You were left in a silence with Yunho. He didn’t move at first, simply letting the sound of the crackling fire fill the space. His gaze didn’t leave you, though. You could feel it, like a weight on your skin, every subtle look making your breath hitch.

A few moments passed before Yunho shifted slightly closer to you.

“You know,” he started, voice hushed but laced with that trademark smoothness, “you look stunning tonight.” Your pulse jumped. You barely managed to glance at him, catching the subtle tilt of his head.

You didn’t respond immediately, unsure of how to form words when your body was begging you to lean into the heat of his touch. But you had to. “Thanks,” you mumbled, fingers gripping your cup just a little too tightly.

The corner of his lips quirked up into that teasing smile, and your heart thudded in your chest. He reached out, his fingers brushing gently against your thigh, just the lightest contact—but enough to make your breath catch.

He didn’t take his hand away, though, leaving it there as if it belonged. His touch was light, almost like a warning, and every inch of you wanted more.

"You're not fooling me," he murmured, his voice low. "All those little touches, all those innocent looks. You knew exactly what you were doing, sweetheart."

You swallowed, feeling the heat surge through your veins. "Is that so?"

Yunho’s thumb traced a small circle on the inside of your thigh, slow, deliberate. You could barely breathe. The tension between you two was excruciating, and the only thing you could do was sit there, trying to keep yourself together, trying not to collapse under the pressure of his touch.

"So soft, baby… wonder if you’d shiver like this if I touched you somewhere else..”,he said softly, his breath warm against your ear. He saw his daughter coming back, but before he moved his hand away, he reassured you, his voice low, “I'll make it up to you later.”

Before you could respond, your best friend walked back in, phone still pressed to her ear.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” she said, her voice filled with excitement. “Okay, love you, see you soon!”

She hung up, and you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. Yunho removed his hand, but you could still feel the faint heat of his touch, like a lingering burn against your skin.

“Looks like someone’s got plans,” Yunho said, glancing at you and then at his daughter. You raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool.

“Yeah, I’m going to my boyfriend’s place for a couple of hours. He just got into town, and I promised I’d see him while he’s here.” She smiled at Yunho, her eyes bright with excitement.

You felt a little knot form in your stomach, not because you weren’t happy for her, but because now it was just you and Yunho. Alone.

“Of course,” Yunho replied smoothly, his voice warmer now, more amused. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Have fun.”

You watched your best friend rush off, her steps quick as she headed toward the door, ready to leave. The moment she stepped outside, the door closing behind her, the tension in the room shifted.

The marshmallows had all been roasted and eaten, the warmth from the fire still lingering in the air as you and Yunho began cleaning up the plates. Your best friend promised she’d be back in an hour.

Yunho's gaze lingering just a little too long, his fingers brushed against yours as you handed him a plate, and you tried to ignore the spark that shot up your arm.

“So,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “do you always roast marshmallows this late?”

Yunho chuckled, his eyes glinting in the soft kitchen light. “Only when the company’s worth it.”

You glanced up at him, feeling your heart skip a beat at the intensity in his eyes. But before you could reply, his phone buzzed.

He picked it up, swiping the screen with one hand while keeping his other hand casually resting on the counter.

“Everything okay?” you asked, casually, though the beat of your heart had quickened.

Yunho nodded, though his smile had turned a little more amused. “Yeah, just got a message from my daughter.”

He read through it and then let out a little chuckle, his tone warm but with an edge of something else. “She’s staying at her boyfriend’s tonight.”

“That so?” you said, trying to play it cool, even as the weight of his words settled over you.

He put the phone down, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. The atmosphere had shifted, the air between you suddenly thick with tension. “Guess we’re alone now.”

Your breath hitched, your pulse quickening in response to his proximity.

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart race. “Guess so,” you whispered, trying to keep your cool, though every inch of you was on edge.

He leaned even closer, his body just a hair's breadth away from yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him, making your skin burn.

“Well,” Yunho said, his voice low, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “I think we can find something to do with all this time, don’t you?”

He didn’t take his eyes off you as he stepped closer, his movements deliberate, slow—each step calculated, bringing him nearer to you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you instinctively took a small step back, but the moment you did, he closed the distance, forcing you to press your back against the cool, hard wall behind you.

He didn’t touch you at first. He simply stood there, watching you, his eyes dark and intent, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips. His chest rose and fell with each breath, his gaze unwavering.

Yunho murmured, his voice a low, teasing drawl. "You’ve been looking at me like you want something, sweetheart. Why don’t you tell me?"

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, your chest tightening. It was like he was daring you to run—daring you to pull away from him—but you couldn’t. Your body wanted him too much.

“I…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say, your heart pounding in your chest.

His smile widened just a little, a flicker of something dark in his gaze as he stepped closer again, pushing you further back against the wall.

His hand, warm and confident, landed on your hip, his fingers lightly brushing your skin. He gave you a moment to adjust, to feel him there, testing the waters.

You didn’t pull away. You didn’t want to. In fact, your body seemed to lean into the touch, craving more, eager for him to push further.

He noticed. The slight shift of your body, the way your chest fluttered with every breath. His eyes darkened, and with a sharp inhale, his hand moved up to your waist, his fingers grazing the side of your ribs.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice low, barely above a whisper. “Are you okay with this?”

Your heart raced, your mind spinning. You wanted to speak, to tell him yes, but all you could do was nod, too lost in the way his hand made you feel.

Yunho’s gaze flickered to your lips for a split second before it returned to your eyes. "That’s not enough for you, is it, baby?”

You didn’t need to say anything. The way you leaned into him, the way your breath hitched, the way your body trembled under his touch said it all.

Without warning, he cupped your chin with his other hand, forcing your head up just slightly as his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was soft at first, his mouth teasing, coaxing, exploring with the gentlest pressure. You melted into it, your hands slipping up to rest on his chest.

But then his hand slid down to your lower back, and the kiss deepened. It was like a switch flipped inside of him. His kiss grew more insistent, more urgent, as if he couldn’t wait any longer.

His other hand slid up to your chest, cupping the side of your breast. The pressure was light, just enough to make your heart race faster. His lips left yours to trail down your jaw, kissing your neck, while his hand slid lower.

Your body was burning. Every nerve felt alive, tingling with need. You felt your knees weaken as his hand moved beneath the hem of your shirt, fingertips grazing the soft skin of your stomach.

When you leaned into him again, desperate for more of his touch, he smirked, knowing full well how much power he had over you.

“Tell me, baby…” he started as the hand on your lower back moved to your pants, unbuttoning them. His hand trailed around your waist until it slipped right in your panties. “...did you get this wet just by thinking about me?”

You whimpered under his touch… And that’s when he got rougher.

His hands moved quickly, more forceful now, pulling you flush against him. He groaned as your bodies collided, the heat between you rising higher, his grip tightening around your waist as he pressed his hips into yours.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” Yunho growled, his lips brushing your ear. “And I’m going to make sure you know it.”

Yunho’s hands were a whirlwind of heat and strength, gripping you tightly as he pulled you against him. His lips brushed against your neck, his breath hot and heavy against your skin, and his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine.

"You wanted my attention, and now you have it. Let’s see if you can handle it.” he murmured, his voice a deep, rough whisper that made your heart race. His hands moved down your sides, squeezing your hips with a possessive grip. "You’ve been such a good girl, waiting for this… dripping for me. You want your reward, don’t you?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry, as your body responded without you even realizing it. He was so close now, his knee between your thighs, pushing them apart, his touch firm, demanding. You could feel the heat between your legs, the desperate throb of your pussy as your body instinctively shifted closer to him.

“I—yes,” you gasped, your voice small but desperate. “I want it... but...”

Yunho froze, his hands tightening on your hips as his eyes snapped to yours.

“But... what?” he growled, his voice low.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the tension building, before you finally admitted, “I—I’m a virgin.”

Yunho cursed under his breath, his eyes darkening with both frustration and something darker—desire. His grip tightened almost painfully on your waist, his voice a rough rasp as he responded, “Fuck.” He took a slow breath, his hands sliding down to your lower back, his fingertips brushing against the sensitive skin.

“You’re telling me... you’ve never been fucked before?” His tone was thick with disbelief, but it only made your body ache for him more.

“No,” you breathed, your hands hovering softly over his chest, desperate for his touch. “I—I’ve never...”

“"Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath, raking a hand through his hair before gripping your waist. His touch was firmer now, like he was holding himself back. His gaze flickered over your face, dark with something primal. "You’ve really never…?" He exhaled sharply, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. "Fuck. That means every little sound, every little reaction—" He swallowed hard, his voice dropping. "All of it’s gonna be just for me."

He moved his knee between your legs again, pressing harder, spreading you open with a force that had your head spinning. His hands slid up to your chest, the heat from his touch making your skin burn as he cupped your breasts roughly, squeezing and kneading them through your clothes.

His lips descended on yours, kissing you with an intensity that took your breath away, his hands working at the fastenings of your clothes, undoing them with unrelenting precision.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he muttered, his hands caressing every inch of your exposed skin. He kissed your neck, your collarbone, his lips trailing down to your breasts, and you gasped, your body trembling from the touch. “And all mine tonight.”

You were barely able to comprehend it all as Yunho’s hands worked their way down your body, his touch rough, almost possessive as he teased you, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin between your legs. You moaned, unable to help it, and he grinned darkly, his eyes flashing with a predatory glint.

“You’re mine tonight,” he repeated, the words burning in your ears. “And I’ll make sure you never forget that.”

He lifted you easily, carrying you to the bedroom with a single-minded purpose, and when he dropped you onto the bed, the weight of his body followed immediately. He crawled over you, his eyes never leaving yours, and you felt the heat from his body overwhelm you.

Yunho’s lips ghosted over yours, his voice a low rasp. "This is what you wanted, isn’t it?"

His knee pressed between your legs, parting them effortlessly. His breath hitched as his fingers trailed up your thighs—slow, teasing—before slipping between them. Testing. Barely touching.

And then, he felt it.

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Uh-oh… already so, so wet for me, baby?" His fingers pressed in just enough to make you gasp. "Guess I don’t even have to ask how bad you need this."

You couldn’t help but nod, your body aching for more, your chest heaving with desire. “P-please…”

He cursed again, his voice thick with frustration, and then, with a growl, he lifted you off the bed, moving you effortlessly to his side. “You better be ready for this, sweetheart. Because I’m not going easy on you.”

Yunho’s lips were relentless against yours, claiming your mouth with a messy, desperate hunger. His tongue pushed past your lips, licking into you with no hesitation, no restraint—wet, hot, possessive. His teeth grazed your lower lip, tugging roughly before he slanted his mouth over yours again, deeper, hungrier, like he wanted to ruin you with just his kiss.

His hands were everywhere at once—gripping, kneading, stroking. He squeezed your waist before sliding lower, grabbing at your ass. The heat between your legs pulsed, your body arching instinctively into his as he pressed his weight down onto you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, flipping you around and pushing your chest into the wall. He tilted your head toward him, kissing you sloppily. He pressed himself against your ass, letting you feel just how eager he was to ruin you. “Feel this, baby..? That's just how much I want you”

You gasped into his mouth, your fingers clawing at the wall, desperate for something to hold on to. His hands moved higher, shoving your shirt up, his rough palms trailing over your bare skin, lighting a fire everywhere he touched.

“Need this off,” he muttered, voice hoarse as he yanked the fabric over your head. His mouth was on your shoulder in an instant, sucking harsh bruises into your skin, marking you, owning you.

You barely had a second to breathe before his hands moved again—one slipping on your back to unclasp your bra, the other gripping your hip, pressing you harder against the thick bulge in his jeans. He groaned as your bare breasts pressed against the wall.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your thighs before tossing them aside. “So fucking pretty,” he murmured, his hand trailing between your legs, fingertips teasing along your slit. “So wet for me already.” he said as he lowered himself on his knees, kisses trailing from your shoulder to your lower back, the to the soft, plush skin of your ass.

You whimpered, legs twitching as he rubbed slow, deliberate circles over your clit, the pressure just enough to drive you insane. Your hips bucked into his hand, chasing more friction, and he smirked against your skin. “Impatient, huh?”.

But before you could whine, after he was done with his sloppy, soft trail of kisses, he suddenly got up and backed off. Your breath caught as you turned around and watched him reach for his own shirt, yanking it off and tossing it to the floor. His body was all hard muscle, broad shoulders flexing as he undid his belt, the soft clink of metal making your core clench with anticipation. He made a show of unbuttoning his jeans, shoving them down his thighs before kicking them off entirely, leaving him in just his boxers.

And that’s when you saw it. Your eyes widened, breath hitching as you stared at the thick, straining outline beneath the thin fabric. He was huge.

Yunho let out a low chuckle, catching your reaction. His gaze was dark, hungry, smug. “What’s wrong, baby?” he teased, palming himself through his boxers, giving a slow, deliberate squeeze. “Didn’t expect me to be this big?”

You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. “I—”

His smirk deepened as he leaned back down over you, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Don’t worry. I’ll make it fit.”

Yunho didn't give you a chance to process, didn't let you catch your breath before he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and shoved them down.

Your gasp was instant, raw, eyes widening as his cock sprang free--thick, heavy, flushed deep at the tip. The veins running along the shaft stood out, prominent, like they were made to be traced with your own little tongue. He was so fucking big, the kind of size that made your thighs press together with both pleasure and just a little bit of fear.

Yunho caught the way you stared, your lips parting like you wanted to speak but couldn’t. His grin was slow, dark, as he stroked himself—letting you watch.

"That pretty little mouth of yours can’t even find the words, huh?" His voice was thick with amusement, his eyes locked on you. "That’s alright, baby… I’d rather have it wrapped around my cock anyway."

Your whimper was embarrassingly loud as he approached you, his hand slipping on your ass, and he chuckled, leaning down to press his lips against your ear. ""Say it.'' His voice was rough, commanding. "Say you want Daddy to fuck you.”

Your breath hitched, shame burning at your skin, but the need-the sheer, aching desperation-was stronger. "I -" You swallowed hard, gripping at his forearms,

fingers barely able to wrap around the thick muscles there. "I want Daddy to fuck me.

Yunho’s cock throbbed in his hand as he stroked himself slowly, watching you with dark, hooded eyes. His other hand was between your legs, two thick fingers buried inside your dripping cunt, stretching you open.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, his deep voice dripping with hunger as he curled his fingers just right, hitting that perfect spot that had your legs trembling. “Taking my fingers so well. Gonna feel so fucking good when I finally stretch you around my cock.”

Your whimper only made his smirk deepen. He pulled his fingers out slowly, dragging them against your walls before bringing them up to your mouth, pressing them against your lips. “Open.”

You obeyed instantly, parting your lips, letting him slide his fingers inside. The taste of yourself flooded your tongue, and Yunho groaned, watching as you sucked them clean, his cock twitching tall against his stomach.

“Fuck,” he growled, gripping the back of your head. “You’re gonna look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

He guided you down onto all fours between his spread thighs, his other hand still trailing between your legs, fingers teasing your swollen clit as he positioned you right in front of his cock. It was thick, flushed, the veins standing out as he stroked himself, making sure you saw just how big he was.

“Look at it, baby,” he murmured, the head of his cock brushing against your lips. “You’re gonna take your time with this, yeah? Let Daddy teach you how to suck it just right.”

You nodded, your breath warm against his cock as you hesitantly parted your lips. Yunho guided you with firm hands, his fingers threading through your hair as you took the swollen tip into your mouth.

“Good girl,” he groaned, tilting his head back as you wrapped your lips around him. “Fuck, yeah—just like that.”

His fingers between your legs moved in slow, lazy circles, teasing your clit as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deeper. He cursed under his breath, his grip tightening in your hair as he resisted the urge to thrust into your mouth.

“Relax your throat,” he murmured, voice strained. “Take more, baby. You can do it.”

You obeyed, inching down further, your tongue running along the prominent veins on the underside of his cock. Yunho let out a deep, shuddering breath, his hips twitching as he groaned, “Fuck—just like that.”

His fingers between your thighs finally pushed back inside you, stretching you open again as he fucked them into you in time with the slow, messy bob of your head. “God, you’re such a good fucking girl for me,” he panted, watching you take him, watching the way your thighs trembled from his touch.

His breathing grew ragged, his grip in your hair tightening as you swirled your tongue over the slit of his cock, tasting the salty precum. His hips jerked involuntarily, and a rough groan ripped from his throat.

“Gonna come,” he warned, voice wrecked, his cock throbbing on your tongue. “You gonna swallow like a good girl?”

You moaned around him, and that was it.

Yunho cursed, his muscles tensing as he came hard, thick ropes of cum spilling into your mouth. His grip on your hair loosened as he shuddered through it, his breath heavy and uneven.

You swallowed it all, licking your lips as you pulled back, and Yunho groaned at the sight, his thumb tracing your swollen lips. “Fuck, that was so hot,” he muttered, pulling you up onto the bed before pushing your back against the mattress.

His hands were rough as they gripped your thighs, spreading you open once more. His cock was still hard, still thick, still glistening from your mouth, and he smirked as he rubbed the tip against your soaked entrance.

“You did so well for me, baby,” he murmured, teasing you, pressing just the head inside before pulling back. “But we’re not done yet.”

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing slow, torturous circles as he grinned down at you.

“Now it’s your turn.”

Yunho hovered over you, his large hands spreading your thighs wide, his body radiating warmth as he settled between them. His cock was thick and hard, the head already pressing gently against your entrance, teasing, testing.

His eyes were dark with restraint, his breathing heavy as he ran his hands up your sides, smoothing over your ribs, your stomach, before cupping your jaw with a gentleness that had your heart skipping. “Relax, baby,” he murmured, voice softer now, coaxing. “Gonna take my time with you.”

He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, swallowing your nervous breath before slowly, slowly pushing inside.

The stretch was instant, overwhelming, burning and pleasurable all at once. Your fingers dug into his biceps, nails pressing into the thick veins running along his forearms as he worked himself deeper, stopping every few inches to let you adjust.

“Shh, I got you,” he soothed, lips brushing over your temple, his breath warm against your skin. His voice was a quiet hum of restraint, but his cock was throbbing inside you, twitching like he was holding himself back from burying himself to the hilt.

But then you gasped, body trembling as he pushed a little more, and Yunho froze, groaning as he realized—you still couldn’t even take half of him.

He pulled back just enough to watch, his gaze dark, hungry, as you struggled to take him. His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

His thumb traced over your clit—soft, teasing, not nearly enough. "Look at you," he murmured, voice rich with amusement. "Can’t even take half, huh? So damn tight… but don’t worry, baby—" his smirk deepened as he pressed in just a little more— "we’ll fix that."

You whimpered, thighs twitching as he pulled out just a bit, rubbing the thick head against your soaked entrance before pushing back in, just a little deeper this time. “Don’t worry,” he chuckled, his voice like warm honey laced with sin. “I’m gonna make it fit.”

His lips found yours, kissing you slow, deep, as he rolled his hips, easing himself deeper, inch by inch. His hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, teasing your nipples, rubbing slow circles into your thigh. Every movement was designed to coax you open, to make you crave more.

The burn turned into pleasure, the ache shifting into something dangerously addictive. Yunho groaned when you finally relaxed around him, his cock sinking deeper, his restraint thinning as your walls clenched around him, sucking him in.

But just as he found his rhythm, just as he was kissing you slow, touching you sweetly— you decided to push him.

Your lips curled into the smallest, brattiest smirk, and you clenched down tight around him, rolling your hips up just slightly, even though it had you gasping from the intense stretch.

Yunho froze.

His breath stuttered, his muscles tensing beneath your hands. For a long second, he didn’t move. Just stared down at you, the flickering candlelight catching the veins on his arms, his neck, his cock buried deep inside you.

And then he let out a low, dangerous chuckle. “Oh, you wanna play dirty, huh?” His voice was different now—darker, deeper, rougher.

His grip on your thighs tightened, his thumbs pressing into your skin, and then, with zero warning, he snapped his hips forward, slamming himself deeper, forcing you to take all of him.

A strangled moan ripped from your throat, your back arching off the bed as the pleasure hit you like a fucking freight train.

“Thought you were struggling a second ago,” Yunho gritted out, his voice thick with amusement. His hands slid up your stomach, his fingertips brushing over your nipples, tweaking, teasing. “But now you’re acting like a little brat.”

He pulled out just enough before slamming back in, his restraint snapping thread by thread as he watched you fall apart beneath him.

"You want it rough, baby?" Yunho’s voice was a low growl, his teeth grazing your jaw—dangerously close to sinking in. His grip tightened, holding you in place as he rolled his hips, pushing deeper, stretching you open inch by inch.

"That’s it… take it," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. His cock dragged against your walls, thick, unrelenting, before he pulled back just enough to make you whimper.

"Don’t worry, sweetheart…" His smirk was pure sin as he thrust in again, slow but firm. "Daddy's gonna take care of you, make you feel so full.”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer.

Yunho’s hips slammed into yours, fucking you deep, hard, relentless—his hands gripping your wrists, pinning them above your head as his mouth found your breasts, biting, marking you everywhere.

His control was gone.

And you?

You had asked for this. Yunho had snapped.

The second you clenched around him—tight, desperate, involuntary—he lost every ounce of restraint.

His large hands gripped your thighs, forcing them even wider as he sank deeper, inch by devastating inch. You were so small compared to him, and fuck, the way your body struggled to take him made him groan deep in his chest.

“Look at you,” he muttered, voice dark, rough with restraint. “So fucking tight—” He rolled his hips forward, pressing even deeper, making sure you felt every single inch of him. “Your little pussy wasn’t made for something this big, was it?”

Your breath hitched, fingers gripping onto his strong, veined forearms like they were your only anchor. The stretch was intense, burning, dizzying, but it was so good. You didn’t even realize you were whimpering, trembling beneath him.

“Poor baby,” he cooed, his huge hand cupping your jaw, thumb stroking over your parted lips. “Barely able to take me… but still trying to act like a little brat?”

You whimpered, your body tightening around him again, and Yunho groaned, jaw clenching as his cock throbbed inside you.

“Shit—” His grip tightened, veins bulging beneath his tan skin, muscles flexing as he held himself back. You were too fucking tight. Too untouched, unclaimed— and that only made his control slip even more.

He nudged against your cervix, the pressure sending a sharp wave of pleasure-pain through you, and you gasped, back arching beneath him.

And Yunho? He felt it. Every little clench, every tiny tremor. And it was driving him fucking crazy.

Your moan was helpless, needy, completely wrecked.

Yunho groaned again, his head dropping to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. “Fuck—you’re sucking me in so tight.”

And then—you did it again.

Clenching around him, squeezing down, teasing, despite the fact that you could barely handle him.

His hands slid up your stomach, teasing, slow, fingertips brushing over your breasts before wrapping around your throat, tilting your chin up so you had to look at him.

“You gonna cry for me, baby?” he murmured, mocking, teasing. “Can’t handle how deep Daddy is?”

The title sent another sharp pulse through your core, and Yunho felt it immediately.

His jaw clenched, his thick cock twitching inside you. “Oh, fuck–, you like that?” His fingers tightened slightly around your throat, just enough to make your breath stutter. “Like having my cock stretch you open? Like knowing I’m the first—the only—man who’ll ever break you in?”

You whimpered, head spinning, drowning in the filth of it all.

Then, with one smooth, effortless motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, his strong hands pressing into your back, keeping you pinned.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he rasped, voice rough, desperate, on the edge of losing it completely. “Wanted to be fucked properly?”

He pulled out just to slam back in, forcing you to take him deeper than ever, stretching you in ways you never thought possible.

Your moan was wrecked, broken, completely fucked-out.

“That’s it,” Yunho groaned, snapping his hips forward, his thick cock pressing against the deepest part of you. “Take it, baby. Take all of it.”

His grip on your hips was bruising, dragging you back onto his cock as he fucked you with long, deep strokes, each one knocking the air from your lungs.

With one hand, he gripped your waist, lifting it slightly as he rolled his hips into you, the sensation of him pressing against you was intoxicating. He moved slowly at first, his thrusts deliberate and deep, letting you feel every inch of him as he sank into you.

His other hand traveled down your body, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin before finding your clit. The moment he began to rub slow, teasing circles, you gasped, your body responding instinctively.

“Y-Yunho,” you whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming sensation of being stretched by him and the pleasure building within you.

“Just let it happen,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “You can take it.”

You could feel the pressure building, both from his relentless thrusting and his skilled fingers working over your clit, drawing you closer to the edge. The combination was too much, and you felt tears slipping down your cheeks as he held you down, completely at his mercy.

“That's it,” he encouraged, his voice a low growl. “You’re doing so well for me.”

As his fingers worked faster, you felt yourself teetering on the brink, the overwhelming pleasure washing over you in intoxicating waves.

Yunho's fingers moved skillfully over your clit, the pressure inside you began to build, overwhelming your senses. Each thrust of his hips was deep and relentless, pushing you closer to an edge you had never known before.

“Oh, god,” you gasped, feeling the tight coil of pleasure tighten in your core. It was building, growing more intense with each movement, and you could hardly believe what was happening. This was your first orgasm, and it felt like everything was about to explode.

“Just let go, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and encouraging, like a siren calling you closer to the waves. “I know you can do it. You’re so close.”

With one final, deliberate thrust, his fingers increased their pace, and suddenly, the pressure released. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body shaking as you felt the orgasm wash through you for the first time. It was intense, all-consuming, and it left you breathless, your vision blurring as you gasped for air.

“Good girl,” Yunho praised, his voice thick with desire. “That’s it. You did so well.”

But he didn’t relent. Instead, he rolled his hips faster and deeper, pushing you through the aftershocks of your release. His grip on your neck was firm but gentle, guiding you as he moved. Each thrust was powerful, hitting a spot inside you that made you moan uncontrollably.

“Feel how good you are for me,” he encouraged, his voice a mixture of roughness and sweetness. “You’re taking me so well. I knew you could do it.”

The combination of his praise and the relentless rhythm of his hips sent you spiraling again, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

Then, with a low growl, Yunho shifted his grip, holding you closer, and you could feel the intensity of his own need as he began to fill you up completely. The sensation of him deep inside you was overwhelming, and you could barely contain the pleasure that surged through your body once more.

“Just like that,” he groaned, his breath scorching your skin as he moved against you. “You were made for me, baby. I’m gonna make you remember every inch of me inside you.”

With that, he thrust harder, deeper, making sure you felt every inch of him, every thrust, as he lost himself in the rhythm of your bodies. You were his, completely and utterly, and as he filled you up, you couldn’t help but surrender to the pleasure.

As Yunho continued to thrust into you, the sensations were overwhelming. Each movement was deep and precise, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You could barely think straight, lost in the moment—until the sound of his phone ringing broke through the haze.

He paused, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he glanced at the screen. The color drained from his face for a moment, replaced by a smirk. “Just when I thought I had you all to myself,” he murmured, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

With a finger pressed to your lips, he held your gaze. “It’s my daughter,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “And she’s calling. But you’re going to stay quiet while I talk.”

Your heart raced at the implication, the thrill of being caught in such an intimate moment mixed with urgency. He held you in place, his grip on your waist firm as he pressed his phone to his ear.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said smoothly, his voice shifting to a comforting tone, softly thrusting into you. “Yeah, sorry, the signal here is awful. I’m good, just… busy around the house.”

As he spoke, he kept his pace, slower but no less intense. He kept your hips pinned down, the rhythm of his movements steady. You had to bite your lip to keep from making a sound, the pleasure building within you again.

“I’m with a friend,” he continued, glancing down at you with a wicked smile. “Yeah, she’s fine… watching a movie, just a little preoccupied. ”

The way he emphasized the last word sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you struggled to suppress your moans. Each thrust drew you closer to the edge, and the combination of his words and movements was driving you wild. The feeling of being so vulnerable and exposed, yet entirely under his control, sent shivers down your spine.

Yunho leaned down closer to you, his breath warm against your ear as he continued to talk. “I’ll call you back in a bit, okay? Just need to take care of something,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing. “Love you.”

As he ended the call, his eyes locked onto yours and how you looked over your shoulder at him, the teasing glint in them igniting a fire in your belly. “You did so well, baby,” he said, breathless.

With that, he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming more demanding and urgent as you struggled to hold back the sounds threatening to escape. You could feel the pressure building within you, every deep thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you. The thrill of being caught, mixed with the electric tension in the air, had you teetering on the edge of another release.

“Isn’t this fun?” he teased, his voice low and gravelly. “You, here, all mine.. taking my cock so well, while my daughter thinks I’m just busy with a friend. How naughty of you.”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, the thrill of being in this secret, intimate space where nothing else mattered but the two of you. You wanted to respond, to beg him for more, but he held you firmly, the weight of his body pressing you down into the mattress.

“Can you keep quiet for me?” he asked, his breath hot against your skin. “I want to hear you hold back, feel you tighten around me.”

You nodded, the pressure of his hips against yours nearly overwhelming. It was all you could do to keep quiet as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, your body responding instinctively to his every thrust.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “You’re doing so well. Just a little longer.”

But as he spoke, he slowed his movements, teasing you, drawing it out. His fingers grazed your waist, the sensation both grounding and electrifying. You could feel him hovering over you, the heat radiating from his body as he watched your every reaction.

“"Look at you," he murmured, his voice rich with lust, laced with something almost reverent. His grip tightened as he rolled his hips, slow, deliberate. "You’re already so close… I can feel it—the way you're gripping me, holding me so tight."

You wanted to respond, to tell him just how close you were, but you knew you had to hold back. The thrill of the moment only intensified the pleasure, and with each deliberate thrust, he was pushing you to your limits.

“Let’s see how long you can take it,” he teased, his hands gripping your hips as he began to pick up the pace again, harder and deeper.

Every thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, and you could feel your resolve weakening. The mix of desire and restraint was intoxicating, and with each movement, he drew you closer to that blissful edge once more.

“You’re doing so, so well, baby…” he murmured, his voice low and full of praise. “You can do it, baby. Just keep quiet for me, mm?”

His words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his hips, pushed you further toward the edge, and you couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped your lips. Yunho’s eyes darkened with desire, and you knew he could feel how close you were.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chided playfully. “No sounds. You promised.”

With that, he thrust deeper, his movements becoming more frantic, the urgency building between you as he closed in on his own release. You could feel the tension crackling in the air, and you knew you were both reaching that point of no return.

He held you tightly, his breath ragged as he whispered sweet praises in your ear. “You’re incredible, baby. Taking my cock so, so well…”

Your body responded to him instinctively, tightening around him as if begging for release. The world outside faded, leaving only the two of you in this moment, lost in each other.

“Can you feel that?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “You’re driving me wild. I’m not stopping until we both finish..”

With renewed vigor, he picked up the pace, his hips slamming into you with a delicious intensity. The sounds of skin meeting skin filled the room, echoing the rhythm of your bodies intertwined.

“Let go for me,” he urged, his voice thick with desire. “I want to feel you come around me. Show me how good you are.”

And just like that, the dam broke. Whatever restraint you had within you to not make a sound, to not cum and scream, it shattered. The waves of pleasure crashed over you, overwhelming and all-consuming. You gasped, moans and whimpers escaping your rapidly rising chest, your body shaking as you surrendered to the bliss of your orgasm, the world around you blurring into nothing.

Yunho’s thrusts didn’t relent; instead, he chased his own orgasm, driving deeper into you, and the sensation pushed you even higher. “That’s it, baby. Just like that,” he growled, his voice a mix of pleasure and need.

As your body pulsed around him, you felt him tighten his grip on you, a low growl escaping his lips as he finally lost himself in you. His cum filled you completely, the sensation igniting a final spark of pleasure that sent shivers through your entire being.

In those moments, as you both rode out the waves of pleasure together, the world outside faded away completely. It was just you and him, tangled in each other, both left breathless and completely satisfied.

As you lay there, wrapped in the aftermath of your shared ecstasy, Yunho brushed his fingers softly over your back, a warm smile spreading across his face. “You did amazing,” he said, his voice tender and filled with warmth. “I knew you were special.”

You looked up at him, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest, and with a teasing smile, you whispered, “this is going to be a looong summer…” and a chuckle followed, Yunho smiling at you.

“Yeah, indeed-” he paused for a second, a thought running through his mind. “Ah, I completely forgot.. my daughter is not going to be home for a whooole week, sweetie. She has some sort of trip with his boyfriend's family.. I don't know. How do you feel about that, hm?” he wrapped you in his embrace, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder.

“I- oh.” you managed to mumble, puppy-like eyes looking up at him, eagerly waiting for that week to come as he smiled at you.

NETWORKS: @blossomnet @illusionnet @mirohs-aurora-society

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @strawberry-mingi @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @tahiraax1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz @chai0tea @miyaluvvsyou @lezleeferguson-120 @sopematesxx

[writingwithgeoffrey]

It was all fun and games, always. you would have your silly little monologues, they would chase you around your little town—his slice of happiness, as you called it—you would push back, they would catch you … the usual routine for a Monday morning.

They knew you never caused any real harm. Mostly, you used your telekinesis to pluck a feather from a chicken or tickle a cow’s nose. Occasionally, you’d pull out something really devilish and paint someone’s entire house after they’d asked for it—the wrong color, obviously, just to make them mad.

Your laughter could often be heard filling the streets, a mix of pure enjoyment and mischievous debauchery. People would smile and wave, and often look the other way, just because, admittedly, your antics brought them joy, as well.

Not the superheroes. They always deemed you a waste of time, a nuisance that needed just one more day behind bars to stop you antics. They always scolded you, told you to stay out of trouble.

Really, though, on their days off, you were friends. It wasn’t ever a surprise to see you sitting outside a little diner with one of the superheroes, just chatting it up and enjoying your morning coffee. The superheroes always seemed to be fond of the more vegetarian options, opting for a “save as much life as possible” mindset. You ate meat because you thought bacon was delicious, nothing more.

It was an idyllic life, and you would’ve been content to continue well into your golden years. You should’ve known it was too good.

It started as a soft rumble through the ground underfoot, but you could feel it as clearly as if you were on a boat in the ocean. It rocked you, silenced you in your daily breakfast with a superhero, and drove you to stand. The superhero asked what was wrong. You silenced them.

A moment later, the town square erupted in a burst of magma, spewing molten lava across the cobblestones—cobblestones you’d helped shave and place as part of the renovations.

From within the fire emerged a single figure, one whom you recognized as a villain. Not a small-town villain like you, but a true-blue, willing-to-kill, supervillain. You stood, nervous, watching as the villain raised their hand, and your breath caught. In the villain’s grasp hung one of the local superheroes. Even from a distance, you could see they weren’t breathing.

“N-no …” You took a staggering step backward. You were supposed to have lunch with them tomorrow.

“God, these superheroes are annoying.” The villain tossed the body aside. You watched it roll to an unceremonious stop. “I thought there’d be less of them out in the countryside.”

“Stay here,” the superhero told you, and in a rush of wind, they flew toward the villain.

You could only watch as the superhero was caught by a hand through their stomach, coughing up blood onto the villain’s already crimson coat. Your breath hitched as you collapsed against the table.

“Hmph. A waste of my time, honestly. If I’d have known you would be this easy to dispatch, I would’ve just built my base already.”

A flick of the wrist was all it took for the superhero to be tossed aside. They landed at your feet, bleeding out, with no way to help them. Before you knew it, they were gone.

“Hmm. You there.”

You lifted your gaze to meet the villain’s. His eyes were full of boredom, with only the vaguest hint of intrigue. Yours was full of hatred, and rage, and a thirst for vengeance. This was your town, and the villain would pay.

“Ooh, I like that fire in your eyes. Why don’t you become my henchman?”

You raised your hand. Your powers rose to their fullest potential. You swore you’d never do this again, but now, you had no choice. He had decided to mess with the town you called home. The town that you loved and that loved you right back. You would show him just how wrong he was.

“What, you think I’m scared of a little person like you? Did you not see what I just did?”

You didn’t honor him with a verbal response. All you did was grab onto his limbs with your power, focus it, narrow your gaze, and in an instant, he was gone, compressed into a ball of nothingness less than a micrometer across. Whatever matter he may have once been turned into energy, but even that was contained by your power.

It didn’t matter, though. You dropped to your knees beside the superhero, brushed the hair from their lifeless eyes, tried your hardest to smile through the pain, and failed. Your tears still came. Nothing would ever stop them. Not even a return to the life you had once loved.

All because some fool thought they could intrude on your turf.

You pretend to be a small-time villain. At most, you annoy the local supers, but your crimes never hurt anyone. To you it's all good fun. Things change when a truly sadistic supervillain invades your turf and murders a few of the supers. No one has seen the extent of your true powers until now.

[mymoonisgrey]

B2B

❤︎ ໋𓈒 back to back, love to hate, hate to love— your relationship with gojo satoru was a mess, but, you can’t really leave, can you?

warnings. 18+, smut, satoru is a munch, yearning, brief cameo of yandere!satoru, breeding kink if you squint, borderline obsession and possessiveness, toxicity, masturbation (m)

wc. 7,43k

You were reminiscing on decisions you made in high-school that got you to this point.

You were never the type to generally date. It wasn’t your thing, never was—you once said your perdition would come as a man trying to ruin your life, or ruin you generally, body and soul.

However, the 19-year-old theory hit you hard, because Gojo Satoru weaved himself into your life like a cobweb you can't seem to dust. You didn’t give in so easily, no. You took your sweet time to finally get in the scene, without ever seeking advice from friends because somehow situationships always disappear when you tell a friend about them.

But Gojo? He was persistent. He had his hands in your pockets before you even realized he was slipping his fingers between yours. His charm was something built into his DNA, impossible to resist, even when you swore you would. He knew how to make you laugh when you were furious, knew how to touch you like he was mapping out constellations on your skin. And maybe that’s why, even when it hurt, even when you knew better, you always came back.

The fights were cinematic—shouting matches in rain-soaked streets, doors slamming, voices breaking on words too sharp to take back. But the reunions? They were something biblical. You’d fold into him like he was home, let him press his apologies into your skin, your lips, your throat. And just like that, you’d start again. Back-to-back, love to hate, hate to love. A cycle neither of you wanted to break.

Because both of you had flaws neither of you could fix, but only learn to love. There’s constantly something to worry about—whether it was Utahime’s closeness to him and how it managed to get on every nerve of yours—or how men swarmed around you like ants on glucose, it was fucked up. He once had to verbally warn his ex-best friend to leave you alone.

❤︎ ໋𓈒

OCTOBER

You walk in with a sense of dread—you ‘broke’ up with Gojo two months ago, and it has been like... the longest you two have been separated since high school. Jujutsu Tech was lively and it made you nostalgic for the days you ran around as a student rather than a sorceress-to-be, life was much easier back then anyway, wasn’t it?

You know you’ll see him as usual, he runs this place, walks like he owns it because hell—if someone had the power he did, they’d be a lot cockier and haughty than he is. Satoru is considered humble compared to the rest of the power-hungry geezers you put your neck out there for.

The memories flood in before you can stop them. The late-night missions where exhaustion blurred the lines between camaraderie and something deeper. The way he’d lean into you, mask slipping—only for a second—before the world called him back. The stolen moments in between duty and destiny, the whispered confessions between bruises and battle scars. You remember the way he looked at you then, like you were something sacred, something he wasn’t quite allowed to have but couldn’t help but claim anyway.

And then, the downfall. The slow unraveling, the fights that started small but snowballed into something monstrous. The jealousy, the frustration, the push and pull of two people who loved too hard and hurt even harder. You remember walking away that night, the weight of his gaze heavy on your back, the ache in your chest that felt like a wound that would never close.

You shake the thought away, forcing yourself back into the present. You weren’t here for him, not really. You had a job to do. And yet, as you step further into the familiar halls, you can’t help but feel it—the pull, the inevitability of it all. Because no matter how far you run, how long you stay away, it always leads back to him.

Back-to-back. Love to hate. Hate to love.

Your line of sight drifts to the bright green fields stretching out, where a couple of students train one-on-one—blades clashing, curses forming, sweat glistening under the afternoon sun. Your gaze flickers, unintentional, to those three students: pink hair, black hair, and brown hair with a voice loud enough to carry over the clash of sparring.

Then, your eyes find him.

That white, silvery hair you know the soft texture of like your own name. He’s dressed simply—a white tee, his usual slacks, hands tucked into his pockets. A pair of God-knows-how-expensive sunglasses shields his eyes, but you know what’s behind them. That easy smile graces his lips, effortlessly relaxed as he watches his students, his posture all confidence, all control.

Your stomach churns with something familiar, a tangled mess of longing, resentment, and something you won’t dare name. And then—your heart plummets, crashing straight to the pit of your stomach when his head snaps with surgical precision, turning directly toward you. Of course, he felt it. He always does.

His gaze pins you in place, a tether snapping taut between you, even from across the field. There’s no mistaking it, the way recognition flickers behind those ridiculous shades.

You almost want to disappear, but it’s too late. How the hell—scratch that. Of course, he’d know. Him and those freak-show eyes you love so fucking much.

Your face remains neutral, betraying none of the storm beneath, despite the way your fingers dig into your palms, nails carving crescents into your skin. He doesn’t look away. Instead, he smiles, slow and easy, like he has all the time in the world. His eyes flicker downward, just for a second, shameless and languid, before locking with yours again. And in that moment, through the tinted lenses, you catch it—a glimmer of iridescent blue, a ghost of something unspoken.

His lips part, and you swear you see the tip of his tongue dart out to wet them. His head tilts, the corner of his mouth quirking like he’s thinking something inappropriate—no, scratch that, he definitely is.

Then he raises a hand in a lazy wave, and you can hear it in your head before he even says it. Miss me, baby?

God, you hate him. And even worse? He knows you don’t.

You spare him a nod, offering a brief, almost nonexistent smile, before turning away and heading toward the administration building.

Your pulse is erratic, but you keep your steps measured. Controlled. Like he didn’t just unravel something inside you with a single look.

This is why you never did love—because how the hell are you supposed to just... forget someone and move on? Like flipping a switch? Like love is something that fades if you just give it enough time? That wasn’t you. You weren’t built for that kind of indifference.

And as for him...

You don’t know.

You tell yourself you don’t care. That his life—his thoughts, his wants—are no longer yours to consider. But there’s an itch in the back of your mind, a whisper of doubt crawling up your spine.

Would he ever get over you?

Would he even try?

❤︎ ໋𓈒

Gojo had never moved toward his office as quickly as he did now, his long strides purposeful, nearly frantic, his heart hammering in his chest. Seeing you—hell, even just feeling your presence—had turned his entire world on its axis, and no amount of cocky bravado could hide it. Who the fuck was he kidding? He needed you back. Pronto.

The moment he shut the door behind him, his back hit the wood with a heavy thud, his head tilting upward as he stared at the ceiling. His breath was uneven, hands twitching at his sides.

And then there was the other problem.

The one currently straining against the fabric of his pants.

"Fuck," he muttered, his brows knitting together as the ache in his chest twisted into something darker, heavier. His body felt like it was fighting itself, caught in the crossfire between want and restraint.

He had no idea what the hell he was even horny for—you hadn’t been wearing anything particularly revealing, hadn’t even done anything except stand there looking at him like a deer caught in headlights. And yet, his entire body reacted like it had been starved for you. Because it had.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before unbuckling his belt, frustration coiling hot and tight in his stomach. He palmed himself through his slacks first, the friction barely enough to ease the throbbing pulse of his cock, already leaking against the fabric.

His sunglasses were thrown somewhere across the room as he pulled himself free, hissing at the rush of cool air against burning-hot skin. His cock was hard, thick, an angry red at the tip, drooling precum like it was begging for relief.

The only cure was you.

He spat into his palm, a filthy, wet sound breaking the silence, and wrapped his fingers around himself, squeezing at the base before giving a slow, torturous stroke upward. "Shit," he groaned, his voice husky, dripping with need. His shirt bunched between his teeth as his free hand gripped his desk, knuckles going white.

His pace picked up, faster, rougher, as images of you flooded his mind. You, with your legs spread wide for him, your lips swollen from his kisses, your body arching, gasping his name like a prayer.

"Fuck, baby..." he panted, hips jerking into his fist, his strokes messy, erratic. "Miss this fuckin' pussy... goddamn, you made for me. Shit—gonna fuckin'—"

The orgasm ripped through him, his whole body shuddering as thick ropes of cum spilled over his fingers, his stomach, his mind blanking out in white-hot pleasure. His breath was ragged, uneven, body twitching as the aftershocks coursed through him.

And then...

The silence hit. Hard.

Post-nut clarity slammed into him like a freight train.

What the fuck was he doing?

This wasn’t enough. Not even close.

He needed you. Bad. Toxicity be damned.

Because no matter how fucked up the cycle was, no matter how many times you tore each other apart, he knew one thing for certain.

He wasn’t letting you go. Not again.

❤︎ ໋𓈒

The only time Yaga ever felt generous enough to take his hardworking sorcerers out to dinner—some looked forward to it, others did not. It was just simple barbecue, nothing extravagant, but the company always managed to make it lively—especially Shoko, who was an absolute menace when she got drunk.

The air was thick with the smell of sizzling meat, sweet and smoky, mingling with the distant scent of cigarette smoke. The usual bustling sounds of downtown Tokyo surrounded you—laughter spilling from izakayas, the occasional honk of a car, the chatter of normies oblivious to the weight the people at this particular table carried.

Nanami, naturally, looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, his displeased grunts audible every time someone—usually Gojo—spoke too loudly. His arms were crossed, his beer barely touched, his patience thinning with every passing second.

Shoko was already a drink in, lazily leaning against the table with a lopsided smirk. Her brown eyes were hazy under the dim lighting, and the way she swirled the ice in her glass told everyone she was only just getting started.

You sat beside her, one hand propping up your cheek, the other absentmindedly pushing around the meat sizzling on the grill in front of you. There was something about the atmosphere tonight—lively, warm, yet… off. Maybe it was the way you felt his eyes on you, heavy and unrelenting, even as he pretended to be fully engrossed in whatever ridiculous conversation he was having with Nanami.

Or maybe it was the way your stomach twisted, knowing he wasn’t just looking.

He was remembering.

His posture was lazy, his usual grin in place, but his fingers drummed against the table with slow, rhythmic taps. You knew him too well—his restless energy, his smug amusement—but this? This was different. His legs were spread wide, arms slung over the back of his seat, and beneath the cover of his dark lenses, his gaze flickered, tracing the curve of your cheek, your lips, your throat.

He looked calm. Completely at ease.

And yet, beneath the table, his fingers curled slightly, the ghost of a grip.

Fuck.

The thought hit him like a truck.

He hadn’t been able to get you out of his head since this afternoon. Since the moment he saw you standing in front of Jujutsu Tech, looking like something he wasn’t sure he deserved but wanted anyway. The way you had looked at him—stiff, hesitant, like you were trying so hard to act unbothered—had sent a wildfire through his veins.

He had barely made it to his office before undoing his belt, his mind already painting too-clear images of you, the way your lips parted, the way your legs felt wrapped around his waist. He had gritted his teeth, hissing your name under his breath, fisting his cock like a starved man—fast, desperate, chasing something that didn’t exist outside his head.

And now, here you were. Sitting just a few feet away, oblivious—or maybe not—to the fact that earlier today, he had been thinking about nothing but you while spilling all over his own hand.

His jaw flexed.

You shifted slightly in your seat, rolling your shoulders as if shaking off the weight of his gaze. The movement made the hem of your top ride up just the tiniest bit, exposing a sliver of skin, and Gojo—despite his reputation, despite his control—felt something snap inside him.

His fingers stopped drumming.

The air between you grew thick, unbearably so, like a taut rope ready to snap.

You still didn’t look at him.

And he didn’t look away.

This was bad.

He needed you back.

Toxic or not.

The weight of his gaze was suffocating. It pressed against your skin, coiled around your throat, settled in the pit of your stomach like something dangerous. You swallowed against it, forcing yourself to stay still, to not react—but your fingers twitched, and your heart pounded, and you knew if you sat there a second longer, your composure would snap.

You leaned toward Shoko, murmuring a quick excuse before pushing back your chair, slipping away before your legs could betray just how unsteady you felt. You barely registered the bustle of the restaurant, the warmth of the air thick with the scent of grilled meat and soju. All you could focus on was the pounding in your chest, the way the tension clung to you like a second skin.

The bathroom door shut behind you with a quiet click. You exhaled sharply, pressing your back against it, your pulse loud in your ears.

What the fuck was this?

Two months. Two fucking months. You should’ve been over it by now. Should’ve built an iron wall around your heart, should’ve let time do its thing and dull the edges of what you felt for him.

And yet, it took nothing. Just a look. Just the ghost of a smirk. Just the knowledge that, beneath that cocky mask, there was something else—something darker, something desperate.

A muscle in your jaw ticked. You refused to be the one to break.

But you should’ve known better than to assume Gojo Satoru would let you leave first.

Out at the table, he was still staring at the closed door.

He knew you weren’t running from the conversation at the table. He knew you weren’t going to throw up from too much soju. He knew exactly why you left. And fuck, if that didn’t send a sick thrill down his spine.

With an exaggerated sigh, he pulled his phone from his pocket, the screen blank—but that didn’t matter. His movements were smooth, calculated. He glanced up, feigning distraction, catching Shoko’s gaze. She squinted at him, trying to focus through her haze of alcohol, but before she could voice the question forming in her mind, he was already standing.

Sliding his hands into his pockets, he stepped away from the table, disappearing into the crowd like a ghost.

Shoko blinked slowly, then exhaled, swirling the ice in her drink.

“…This is gonna be a mess,” she mumbled to herself.

❤︎ ໋𓈒

The bathroom door slammed open so hard it rattled against the hinges.

Your breath caught.

Satoru stood in the doorway, tall, imposing, his presence swallowing the small space whole. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing you both in, the air turning suffocating in an instant.

You straightened, fingers twitching at your sides, but you didn’t move back. You held your ground, even as your pulse roared, even as something electric crawled down your spine.

His hands were still in his pockets, his stance deceptively casual, but you weren’t fooled. His broad chest rose and fell in slow, controlled breaths, his jaw tense. Those sunglasses of his—arrogant, infuriating—were gone, stuffed somewhere in his pocket, and that meant his eyes were on you.

Unfiltered. Unhidden.

And you felt them.

The weight of them. The hunger in them. The sharp edge of something between obsession and anger.

Seconds passed.

Neither of you spoke.

The silence stretched, taut and fragile, like something was about to snap.

And then, finally—

“…Why are you here?” Your voice was steady, but there was venom beneath it.

His lips curled, slow, deliberate. His head tilted just slightly, like he was amused, like he wasn’t the one who had cornered you in a fucking bathroom like a desperate man.

“You tell me,” he said smoothly. “You ran first.”

Your fingers twitched. “And you followed.”

His eyes dragged over your face, slow, taking his time, like he was savoring something.

“You left me with a problem,” he murmured.

Your stomach flipped, but you didn’t let it show. “Not my issue.”

Gojo clicked his tongue, taking a single step closer. Just one. Just enough to make the space between you feel nonexistent.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” he mused, voice dipping lower, dangerous now. “You’ve always been my issue. Even when you don’t wanna be.”

His scent curled around you—clean, sharp, tinged with the faintest trace of the cologne you still remembered, the one you once pressed your face into his neck to breathe in.

Your pulse hammered against your ribs.

This was dangerous.

You knew it.

And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him.

He leaned in, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he murmured, voice dripping with something dark. “You have any idea what you did to me earlier?”

Your breath hitched.

Shit.

You knew exactly what he meant.

But you refused to acknowledge it.

Instead, you exhaled sharply, planting a firm hand against his chest, shoving him back—just enough to put space between you. Just enough to make it clear you weren’t playing his game.

“Don’t start,” you bit out, your voice cutting, but the effect was ruined by the way your breath was still uneven.

Satoru barely moved, barely reacted. If anything, the corner of his mouth twitched, like he found it cute.

That pissed you off more than it should have.

“Start what?” he asked lazily, tilting his head. “You’re the one running, sweetheart. And for what? You really think you’re over me?”

Your jaw clenched. “I don’t think—I know.”

He snorted. “Sure. That’s why you’re shaking right now, right?”

Your nostrils flared. “Fuck off, Satoru.”

“Or what?” His voice dropped, teasing but sharp. “You’ll run again? You’ll pretend like none of this ever happened?”

You hated how easily he got under your skin. Hated how he knew exactly where to poke, exactly which wounds to press his fingers into.

“I don’t have to pretend,” you shot back. “It already ended. Two months ago.”

His expression darkened, his smile slipping just slightly. “Yeah? And you’ve been real happy since then, huh?”

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him see how your fingers trembled slightly where they dug into your skin.

“Actually?” You forced a smirk. “I’ve never been better.”

It was a lie, and you both knew it.

And for the first time tonight, something flickered in Gojo’s expression.

Something ugly.

Something that twisted and burned behind his eyes.

His lips curled—not in amusement, but in something bitter, something close to anger.

“You really wanna play that game?” he murmured, stepping forward. “Fine. Let’s play.”

He reached up, his fingers gripping your chin—not harshly, but firm, tilting your face up to his.

“Tell me,” he continued, his voice lower now, something dangerous coiled beneath it. “When you’re lying in bed at night, when it’s quiet, when there’s no one else around—do you still touch yourself thinking about me?”

Your stomach clenched, heat flashing through your veins, but you didn’t let it show. Didn’t let him see how that single sentence knocked the breath out of your lungs.

You scoffed instead, eyes narrowing. “You’re fucking disgusting.”

Gojo grinned. “Yeah? But you like it.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why aren’t you stopping me?”

Your mouth opened—but no words came out.

And Satoru saw it.

His grip on your chin tightened, just barely, his thumb brushing over the corner of your lip, his eyes dipping down—watching, waiting.

You hated him.

Hated how easily he broke past your walls.

Hated how, even now, even after everything, your body still reacted to him like this.

Hated how much you fucking wanted him.

And he knew.

Of course he knew.

A slow exhale left him, his breath fanning over your lips, and you felt it—the shift in the air, the way the tension between you snapped from hostility to something darker, something that burned.

“I jacked off to you today,” he murmured, his tone almost conversational, but there was a roughness to it. A rawness. “Couldn’t even fucking help it.”

Your stomach flipped.

“I was pissed, you know?” His thumb dragged down, tracing the curve of your jaw. “Seeing you. Watching you act like I don’t fucking exist. Like you weren’t mine.”

“I’m not yours,” you bit out.

Satoru smiled.

And then he laughed.

Low. Mocking.

Like you just said the funniest shit in the world.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, and your breath caught at the way his voice dipped into something dark, something possessive. “You’ve always been mine.”

Your fingers twitched.

And then you did what your body screamed at you to do.

You grabbed him by the collar and kissed him.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was teeth clashing, hands grasping, months of tension snapping like a rubber band pulled too tight. It was resentment, and love, and lust, and every unsaid word swallowed into the heat of the moment.

Satoru groaned against your mouth, his hands snapping to your hips, yanking you flush against him.

And fuck—he was already hard.

You felt it, pressing against you, his body burning hot, his grip rough as he spun you, backing you against the sink.

“You always do this,” you panted against his lips. “You always—”

“Always what?” he murmured, dragging his teeth along your jaw, his hands slipping under your shirt, burning against your skin. “Make you want me?”

You shuddered, fingers tangling into his hair, tugging harshly—and he groaned, low and wrecked.

“You fucking love it,” he said against your throat.

You hated that he was right.

But you weren’t about to let him win that easily.

Your hand slid down, palming him through his slacks, and his breath hitched, his hips jerking into your touch.

“Fuck,” he bit out.

You smirked. “What was that?”

His grip on you tightened, his lips brushing against your ear.

“You’re gonna pay for that.”

And then he was yanking your head back, capturing your lips in another kiss, and you knew—this wasn’t ending anytime soon.

Your fingers curled tighter into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, and the sharp hiss that left his lips sent heat flashing straight down your spine.

But just as fast as it started, you wrenched yourself back.

Breathless.

Satoru’s grip on your waist tightened for a fraction of a second—like he didn’t want to let go. Like he physically couldn’t. But you pushed against his chest, and he let you slip through his fingers, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as you put space between you.

A smirk curled your lips as you leaned back against the sink, crossing your arms. “What happened to all that confidence, Satoru?”

His chest rose and fell with each breath, his jaw ticking.

“Don’t fucking start,” he muttered.

“Or what?” You tilted your head, faux innocence dripping from your tone. “You’ll break?”

The muscle in his jaw clenched harder. His hands twitched. His eyes—fuck, those fucking eyes—burned into yours with something wild, something unrestrained.

And then, just when you thought he was going to snap—he laughed.

Not his usual laugh. Not the carefree, cocky one he tossed around like spare change.

This was different.

Low. Dark. Wrecked.

Like he already knew he was losing.

Satoru took a slow step forward, closing the distance you put between you, his fingers dragging along the edge of the sink counter, his gaze never leaving yours.

“You wanna play, baby?” His voice was soft. Dangerous. “Fine. Let’s play.”

You didn’t move when he caged you in, his hands bracketing your hips, his breath fanning against your cheek.

“But we both know how this ends,” he murmured.

You swallowed. “Enlighten me.”

His lips brushed against your jaw—so close, but not touching. Just there. Just teasing.

“It ends with you on your knees,” he said, voice thick with something sinful. “Or maybe I’ll be on mine. You know I never minded.”

Heat pooled in your stomach, but you didn’t let it show.

Instead, you let your lips curl into a slow, deliberate smirk. “I think you need me more than I need you.”

That got him.

His nostrils flared. His fingers flexed against the counter. His whole body tensed like a live wire about to snap.

And you had him.

For a split second, he looked like he was going to crack, to give in—

But then—

He stepped back.

The loss of his warmth, the absence of his presence, sent something hollow through your chest.

Satoru exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, his head tilting back toward the ceiling. “You drive me fucking insane,” he muttered.

And then he looked at you—really looked at you.

Like you were something unattainable. Like he could reach for you, but you’d slip through his fingers.

Like he was already mourning the loss of you, even though you were right there.

Something inside you clenched.

Because Satoru never looked at you like that.

Not like he was breaking.

Not like he was crumbling under the weight of you.

And that—that scared you more than anything.

You turned, grabbing the door handle.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was sharp.

You hesitated. Just for a second.

And that second was all he needed.

In one swift movement, he was there again—right behind you, his chest pressing flush against your back, his fingers gripping your hips with bruising force.

“Go ahead,” he murmured into your ear. “Walk out that door.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers twitching against the handle.

His hands slid down, slow, deliberate, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs.

“But we both know you won’t.”

Your breath hitched when he rocked against you, his erection pressing firm against the curve of your ass.

Your fingers clenched around the handle.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his forehead dropping against your shoulder. “I’m going insane.”

You closed your eyes. “Then let me go.”

His laugh was soft. Bitter.

“Never,” he whispered.

And then his fingers dug in, and he spun you—slamming you back against the door.

His hands were everywhere, mapping out the body he had memorized, relearning every curve and dip like he was starving.

“You think I don’t miss you?” he rasped.

Your heart pounded.

He kissed you before you could answer.

Desperate.

Teeth and tongue and months of loneliness crashing into you all at once.

His hands slid under your thighs, hoisting you up, pinning you between him and the door.

“I can still taste you,” he murmured against your lips.

Your breath stuttered.

His grip on you was bruising, his lips trailing down your neck, sucking, biting, marking.

“You think you can just leave me?” His voice was rough. “Think you can just walk away?”

Your head tilted back, breathless, overwhelmed.

“You’re mine,” he muttered against your skin, his hands slipping under your shirt, fingers tracing the edge of your waistband.

You gasped when his hand dipped lower.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered.

You didn’t. You never could.

Because even now, even after everything— You still wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, yanking them down with a sharp tug, and your breath hitched as the cool air kissed your heated skin.

“Satoru—”

“Shh,” he hushed, lips dragging along the column of your throat. “S’okay, jus’ me, baby.”

His voice was low, raspy, a dark chuckle rumbling in his chest as he palmed between your legs, fingers running over the damp fabric of your panties.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he groaned. “What, you missed me that much?”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer.

He didn’t like that.

Without warning, he pressed the heel of his palm against your clit, and your hips jerked involuntarily.

“There’s my answer,” he murmured, lips ghosting against your ear.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he pushed your panties aside, two fingers sliding through your slick folds, teasing.

“Y’know,” he mused, voice like velvet, “I thought jerking off earlier would take the edge off. But look at me.”

You felt him grind against your thigh, the thick outline of his cock straining against his slacks, hot and heavy.

“Didn’t work,” he continued, dragging his fingers through your slickness, circling your clit with lazy, taunting strokes. “Still fuckin’ starving for you.”

Your breath hitched when he pushed a finger inside, slow, teasing, curling it just enough to make you gasp.

“Missed this pretty pussy,” he murmured, adding another finger, stretching you out. “my pretty pussy.”

Your head tilted back against the door, a sharp moan slipping from your lips.

His pace quickened, fingers thrusting in and out, his thumb rubbing circles against your clit, every motion calculated, precise, like he was pulling you apart piece by piece. “Feel good, baby?”

You nodded frantically, hips bucking into his hand.

“voice, honey, use it.”

“Y-yeah,” you choked out. “Feels so fucking good.”

A wicked smile tugged at his lips.

“Good,” he murmured, his fingers suddenly disappearing—making you whine at the loss—before he spun you around, pressing your chest against the door. “Hands up,” he ordered.

You obeyed instantly, pressing your palms against the doorframe, your breath coming in quick, shallow pants. The anticipation burned through you, every nerve in your body attuned to him.

A loud thud echoed behind you, and when you glanced over your shoulder, you found Satoru on his knees, his striking blue eyes locked onto you with a dark, ravenous hunger. His fingers hooked into the band of your flimsy panties, tugging them aside with ease before his nose brushed against the sensitive heat of your core.

“Ah, fuck,” he exhaled, his voice thick with desire. “Yum.”

The warmth of his breath sent a shiver coursing through you, and then—oh god—his lips parted, his tongue swiping through your folds in a slow, deliberate stroke that made your knees tremble. A deep groan rumbled from his chest as he pulled you closer, his grip firm on your thighs.

“You smell so good,” he muttered against your slick skin, his words vibrating against your core. “Fuck—been thinking about this for the past two months— why’re you depriving me of this, wifey?”

Your face twists from anticipation, and moreover, irritation at how he seemed to always think he owned you. news flash, he does.

“you’re acting like—“ you gasp out breathlessly before—His mouth latched onto you, devouring like a man starved. The wet heat of his tongue worked expertly, tracing and teasing, alternating between languid strokes and eager, desperate sucks. Every movement sent shocks of pleasure crackling up your spine, your fingers clenching uselessly against the doorframe as your body melted into his touch.

“Satoru—” you gasped, hips jerking instinctively toward his mouth, craving more. He chuckled against you, the vibration making you whimper.

“So needy,” he murmured, his tongue flicking wickedly before he sucked your clit into his mouth. His grip on your thighs tightened as he buried himself deeper, his own groans mingling with the wet, obscene sounds filling the room.

Your legs shook, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach. He could feel it—he always knew. With one hand, he slipped two fingers inside you with ease, curling them just right, pressing into that spot that had you biting down on your lip to keep from crying out.

“C’mon, baby,” he coaxed, voice thick with arrogance and lust. “Let me hear you.”

Your hands trembled against the doorframe, fingers pressing uselessly into the wood as a whimper slipped from your lips. Satoru’s pace was relentless—his tongue dragging through your folds, his fingers curling inside you with devastating precision. The tension in your stomach coiled tighter, heat pooling low as he worked you over like he had all the time in the world.

“Look at you,” he murmured between strokes of his tongue. “Dripping all over me—fuck.”

You gasped as he pressed his palm flat against your lower stomach, holding you in place while he sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking against the swollen nub. The pleasure hit you like a wave, rolling through you in sharp, dizzying bursts.

“Satoru—I’m—”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Go ahead. Come for me.”

And you did.

Your body seized, pleasure snapping through your core as your orgasm crashed over you, hard and unrelenting. Your knees buckled, and Satoru caught you effortlessly, keeping you steady as you trembled beneath his touch. He groaned as he licked you through it, his fingers stroking you lazily, coaxing out every last aftershock.

When you finally slumped against the doorframe, boneless and breathless, he pulled back, licking his lips like he was savoring the taste of you. His eyes, darkened with lust, raked over your trembling form.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, rising to his feet. He cupped your face, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You good?”

You nodded weakly, still floating in the haze of pleasure.

His lips curled into a smirk. “Think you can take more?”

Before you could answer, his hands were on your waist, spinning you around to face him. He kissed you—deep, filthy, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His hands wandered, fingers tracing the curve of your ass before giving it a firm squeeze and letting out a loooowww whistle.

The moment your silence stretched too long, Satoru knew he had you.

A slow, cocky smirk curled on his lips as he rolled his hips forward, pressing his hardness against your core, just to hear the way your breath caught in your throat.

"That's what I thought," he murmured, voice low, rough—wrecked.

His hands gripped your thighs tighter as he lifted you, pinning you between the door and his body, the heat of him searing straight through your clothes. You barely had a moment to gasp before his lips crashed against yours, desperate and bruising.

It was messy. Uncoordinated. More need than finesse.

Teeth clashed. Tongues tangled.

You wanted to hate him for how easily he unraveled you, how quickly he made you forget why you were supposed to be angry, but the way he groaned into your mouth, like he was starving for you, made it impossible.

"Fuck," he muttered, breaking away just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide. "I've been thinking about this all day."

His fingers found the waistband of your pants, yanking them down in a single, impatient motion, his breath hitching at the sight of your bare skin.

"God, baby," he groaned, voice shaking. "You have no fucking idea."

You swallowed hard, gripping at his shirt as he reached down, palming himself through his slacks. The outline of his cock was thick and heavy, and when he popped open the button and shoved his pants down, your mouth watered at the sight of it—hard, flushed red at the tip, pre-cum already leaking.

He gave himself a few strokes, his eyes locked onto your soaked cunt, before he pressed the blunt tip against your entrance.

"You’re already dripping," he murmured, smug. "Missed me that much, huh?"

You wanted to argue, to shove him back and wipe that cocky smirk off his face, but the second he pushed in, stretching you open inch by inch, your brain short-circuited.

"Shit," you gasped, head tipping back against the door.

Satoru grunted, his hands gripping your hips, keeping you in place as he bottomed out, his cock buried to the hilt inside you.

"Tight as ever," he hissed. "Like this pussy was fucking made for me."

You dug your nails into his shoulders, your walls clenching around him as he gave a sharp thrust.

"Shit—" His head dropped to your shoulder, his breath ragged. "You’re gonna kill me."

And then he started moving.

There was no build-up, no easing into it—just raw, desperate thrusts, his hips snapping against yours, his cock driving into you so deep it had you seeing stars.

Your moans filled the small bathroom, drowned out only by the muffled sounds of the restaurant beyond the door. The thrill of it—the risk, the absolute filth of being fucked up against a public bathroom door—only made it worse.

Satoru must have felt the same, because his grip on you turned bruising, his pace brutal.

"This what you wanted, huh?" he growled, lips brushing against your ear. "Wanted me to ruin you like this?"

You could only whimper in response, your legs tightening around his waist.

"You love it," he groaned. "Love letting me fuck you like this, even when you hate me."

His teeth found your neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark before soothing it with his tongue.

"Fuck, baby," he panted, "I should keep you like this forever. Stuck on my cock, whining like a bitch in heat."

The filthiness of it sent heat rushing straight to your core, your walls fluttering around him, making him curse under his breath.

"That's it," he muttered. "Come on, baby, give it to me."

His thumb found your clit, rubbing harsh circles, and your body jerked at the sensation.

"Fuck—Satoru—"

"I know, baby," he gritted out. "Come for me. Come on my fucking cock."

The coil in your stomach snapped, and you came with a sharp cry, your walls clenching down so hard on him he nearly collapsed against you.

"Shit, shit, shit—"

His thrusts turned erratic, sloppy, his breath ragged against your skin as he chased his own release.

"Fuck, I'm gonna—"

And then, with one last thrust, he buried himself as deep as he could go, spilling inside you with a low, wrecked groan, his body shuddering against yours.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Just panting, clinging to each other, the aftershocks still rippling through your bodies.

And then—

Reality crashed down.

His head dropped against your shoulder, his arms tightening around you.

"Fuck," he murmured, voice hoarse.

You didn’t respond, still coming down from your high, your mind too fogged to process anything else.

But then he spoke again.

"You’re never leaving me."

Your breath hitched.

"You hear me?" He pulled back just enough to look at you, his iridescent blue eyes burning.

"This—" He gestured vaguely, his chest still heaving. "Us. It’s never gonna stop."

You swallowed hard. "Satoru—"

"I don’t care how fucked up it is," he interrupted, voice cracking. "I don’t care if we tear each other apart." He sniffled, You swallowed, your throat tight. His words pressed against your skin, heavier than his body pinning you to the door.

"You can’t say that," you whispered, voice barely there.

Satoru’s gaze didn’t waver. He just looked at you, eyes burning with something you weren’t ready to name.

"I can," he murmured. "Because it’s true."

His fingers ghosted over your cheek, sliding down the column of your throat, pressing lightly—just enough for you to feel his touch, like he was mapping you all over again.

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the way your body still ached for him, how every inch of you still burned from the way he took you.

"You don’t own me."

He exhaled shakily, his forehead pressing against yours.

"I know," he admitted, his voice a broken rasp. "But you still belong to me."

Your breath stuttered. "That’s not the same thing."

"Isn’t it?" he asked, his hands slipping down to your waist, holding you like you were something fragile. "Tell me, then. Tell me you don’t feel it, too."

You didn’t answer.

Because you did.

You felt it in the way his body curled over yours, in the way his breaths mingled with yours, in the way he held you—not with possession, but with something deeper. Something unshakable.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, then another on your cheek, then lower, down to your jaw. He was shaking. His lips trembled against your skin.

"I thought about you every fucking day."

His confession poured into you like warm honey, thick and golden, coating every inch of your chest.

"I know you think this is just obsession," he continued, his nose brushing the shell of your ear. "That I’m selfish and I only want you because I can’t stand the idea of someone else having you. Maybe that’s true."

His hands slid up, wrapping around your wrists, pulling them down from where they’d been pressed defensively to his chest.

"But it’s more than that," he said, kissing your palm. "It always has been."

Your fingers curled slightly against his cheek, as if testing the weight of his words. "Then why do we keep ruining each other?"

He let out a breath, slow and quiet, like it hurt to say the truth out loud.

"Because I don't know how to love you without ruining myself, too."

Your heart clenched.

Satoru lifted his head, his gaze searching yours, his lips parting slightly before he said it.

"And you can’t leave me anyway."

You blinked. "What?"

His hands flexed at your sides, gripping tighter like he was afraid you’d disappear.

"Something’s already taken root inside you," he whispered, almost reverently. "You know it, don’t you?"

Your stomach flipped, your breath catching as something deep inside you—something instinctual, something unspoken—stirred at his words.

Because you did know.

It wasn’t just the way your body still felt like it belonged to him. It wasn’t just the way your heart raced whenever he was near.

It was something more. Something permanent.

Satoru swallowed, his thumb brushing over your lips, his voice raw, like he was barely holding himself together.

"Tell me I’m wrong."

You couldn’t.

His eyes darkened, something deep and knowing settling in them.

"That’s what I thought."

His hands found your hips, gripping them, his thumbs tracing slow circles.

"You’re never leaving," he murmured, softer this time, like a promise. "Not now. Not ever."

You shivered, your head dropping against his chest, your breath unsteady.

Because for the first time in all the years of back-and-forth, of fights and reconciliations, of leaving and coming back—

You believed him.

And maybe… maybe you didn’t want to leave anyway.

Satoru’s arms wound around you, holding you against him like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers.

His lips pressed against your temple, slow and lingering, and then—

"Marry me."

The words were quiet, barely louder than the sound of your own heartbeat.

Your body froze, rigid, like glass refusing to budge. Satoru only pulled you closer.

"We both know this is forever."

His hands skimmed your sides, like he was memorizing you all over again.

"So let’s stop pretending otherwise."

Your throat went dry.

Because as crazy as it sounded, as reckless and fucked-up as this love was—

Maybe, just maybe—

He was right.

Back to him, you guess. Forever this time.

FIN.

❤︎ ໋𓈒 a/n. hello loves, i was feeling very uninspired towards my long fic “All I Need” so im posting this. I’ll hopefully be back on track once i jot down my ideas for chapter five. I hope you enjoy this one-shot, based on B2b by charlixcx.

© All Rights Reserved mymoonisgrey

[five-bi-five-mind]

so I am obsessed with your jj x readers fics, esp the top!jj and jealous!jj ones. so I have a request (if you take requests).

jj had Henry but she and Will didn't end up together because Will wasn't willing to sacrifice his career and neither was JJ but they used to spend a lot of time together for Henry. Fem!reader started working for the BAU when Henry is five, and JJ and Reader started sneaking around together. JJ is possessive of reader but they're both closeted, even though reader is now willing to go public. but then Will returned, wanting to be a family for Henry's sake and JJ agrees to give it a shot, breaking reader's heart. A month or so later, the BAU returned from a gruelling case and go to a bar to wind down. JJ and Reader haven't really spoken since things ended except for work purposes. But when JJ sees a guy flirt with and kiss reader at the bar, she grabs reader and takes her to the bathroom and becomes possessive....After, reader asks JJ what she wants because jj's behaviour is confusing and JJ says "You" (thank you)

Breaking Point

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader

Genre: Angst, Smut

Words: 11.7k+

Summary: JJ fell for you hard, but she wasn't good with feelings and she liked having control. Only problem was, she lost all of it any time you were around. Now, Will is trying to push her to restart a relationship and all she can do is push you away to handle all these complicated feelings.

Warning: rough sex, overstimulation, possessive sex, possessive!JJ, little bit of toxic!JJ, dubiously consensual kissing, double sided strap-on, multiple orgasms, vibrator, bottom!r, top!JJ, alcohol mention, biting... I think that about covers it.

A/N: I took a break but now we're so back and it feels good to be back. Hope y'all enjoy a JJ fic!!

(gif not mine, credit to luthqrs)

She had fallen first. You always joked that it was you who did and you were just waiting for her to stop being so wrapped up in her own head, but no. If only you knew how mistaken you were.

She most certainly had fallen first, and dare she say, she had also fallen harder. Not that any of that seems apparent to you now, or ever will at this point, if JJ were being honest with herself. But she would go to her grave denying any claim that you were the one to fall first or to love her harder.

See, she fell for you the moment she saw you. She might be practical, she might be calculated and calm and she prided herself in always weighing the risks versus the reward. JJ built her life around assessing every situation and making sure every single action she took, every choice she made, made sense for her future. But then her eyes fell upon you and all of that went out the window.

She replays that first day you came to the BAU in her head more times  than she could care to count. That day she met you, you were just starting as part of the team. She heard your laugh from the halls before she even saw your face. The feeling of your laugh ringing through her ears, washing over her entire being, she won’t ever forget. She didn’t understand why she felt the way that she did then, not until her eyes finally met yours, but that was hours later. 

Somehow, the two of you managed to miss properly introducing each other for most of that first day. You were off getting familiar with the BAU, catching up on who’s who and where’s what. She was wrapped up in a case close to home that seemed like it was all dead ends. It wasn’t until the end of that work day did she finally run into you. Literally.

With her hands full of files and her eyes glued to the words written in them, she kept walking until she smacked right into you. To her own defense, you were looking everywhere but up, trying to find the right room number to finally meet the elusive JJ in the first place. Neither of you were looking forward until your bodies collided and her papers started flying everywhere.

JJ was immediately mortified and frustrated and for a moment there was utter silence as you both looked down at the mess of papers around you. But then you looked up and laughed. It caught her off guard again, but she didn’t know why. Maybe it was that the feeling washed over her again. A feeling she rarely feels these days with her line of work. A feeling that something pure and happy was in her presence. It’s that sort of feeling that rubs off on people, but rarely does it grace the BAU halls. And then she looked up.

Your eyes sparkled as you laughed. “Well, that’s one way to make an introduction I guess,” you said to her between giggles. Without even knowing it, she was smiling back at you. She thought to ask if you were okay, but words were hard to get out. 

You scooped up all her papers and she just stood there, eyes wide, as you placed them back in her hands. When you told her your name and that it was nice to meet her, finally she found her voice again and said the same. 

The meeting might have been ordinary to you, but to her it was the first time in a long time that the world felt lighter. It was the moment that you walked out the door from your first day with the BAU that JJ swore to herself to make sure you never lost that light. This job could be monstrous, but you weren’t a field agent. She could shield you, she could protect you.

It was in that small moment that JJ fell in love, even if it took her weeks to realize what that feeling was. The need to protect you grew as she watched you wince from across the room each time new crime scene photos were presented for each new case. She remembered being like you, she literally was you. Now you’re the new communications liaison and you still had the same sick feeling she used to get when the horrors of the world were being highlighted page after page on the table in front of you. 

—----------------------------

It was only a few short months before the feelings JJ had for you boiled over. She’d like to say she was good at hiding them, and to an extent, she was, but she unfortunately had a breaking point. What she really regretted was how that breaking point came about and what actions it resulted in.

In JJ’s best efforts to shield you from a job that, in all reality, was impossible for someone to be shielded from at least some horrors, JJ had also somehow convinced you and a lot of people around you that she hated you. She would urge for you to not be put on certain cases, but that would come in the form of her– unintentionally –making it sound like you were not qualified or skilled enough to handle those cases. JJ didn’t think that in the slightest, though. She really thought you were better at the job of being a liaison than she ever was. But she also knew the path she took from being a liaison, to finding herself in danger in the field and not as prepared as she should’ve been at times. She couldn’t handle you following that same path, so she did what she could. 

The rumors that she hated you were also not helped by the fact that she absolutely froze up any time you tried to talk to her. She had no idea what this magnetic pull was that she felt any time you were near. She thought about you when you were around and even more when you weren’t. JJ knew she should’ve actually tried to have more conversations with you, squash the rumors that she hated you finally, but any time she tried to get closer to you the pull got stronger. And then by the time you did approach her, her mind was so wrapped up in the feeling that she just couldn’t think to get any words out. Everything about you confused her. 

What made matters worse, however, was that JJ found herself always near you even when it wasn’t by her own choice. In the office, she was always nearby to make sure you didn’t walk into a wall, since you had this annoyingly charming habit of reading files and walking at the same time. Or, JJ always noticed you had a knack for getting up any time the jet had turbulence and she would often shoot up and catch you before you fell. Anytime that happened, JJ would feel like her skin was on fire wherever your delicate hands would steady themselves on her strong arms. It always made her stomach twist in a way that felt similar to when she used to have a fear of flying, only the feeling would stick with her when they landed and then hours after. 

While JJ savored these moments without really knowing why, it came across quite differently for you. JJ’s eyes would always harden anytime she stepped back once you regained your footing and she wouldn’t stop staring at you. To everyone around the both of you, it looked like she was glaring. In reality, JJ was just trying to figure it all out. But as more and more time went by, she was starting to piece everything together.

Feelings weren’t something JJ was good at, but she couldn’t deny that they were building within her. She had decided maybe she should ignore them. If she stuffed them down long enough she could either get used to living with the feeling or they’d go away. At least that’s what she told herself, but then there was a day that your time overlapped with that one intern… The one with the rich dad and the shit eating grin. 

JJ was in the absolute worst mood and he was just making it worse. He usually flirted with the other interns and she didn’t care about that but today, she guessed he was going for a different target. And any time JJ heard his obnoxious voice flow through the halls, calling your name for you to slow down so he could catch up, asking you a useless question, it just made things worse. She snapped three pencils that day and it wasn’t even noon yet then. 

When he finally came to her office to ask if she needed anything, she thought asking him for a big coffee order for the office, but for specific coffee across town would solve her problems at least temporarily. She just wanted him away from you; he kept getting too fucking close. And she told herself this wasn’t about jealousy, it wasn’t because she wanted you and couldn’t have you, it was because he was going through interns like they were nothing and she didn’t want to see him treat you like that too. Except, her plan to get you away from him backfired in the worst possible way. 

She didn’t think he would have the guts to ask you to join him in assisting, and she didn’t think you would use your lunch break to assist. But of course you did, because you’re kind and he played it up, acting like he could use all the help he could get. That just soured JJ’s mood even more.

It took over an hour for you to return with that guy too and the whole time JJ kept picturing the worst. How he might be driving with his hand on your thigh, when it should be hers. How he could be making you laugh and smile when JJ just wants to be the reason you do that just once more for her. How he could be asking you on a date and she wouldn’t be there to somehow interject and make sure that never happens in a million years.

She wouldn’t ever know if her first two worries happened to have come true, but to her utter horror the last one did. As he brought back the coffee, handing it out to all the team, he turned and gave you that same scheming grin and said the words that JJ absolutely did not want to here. “So, that’s a yes for Friday night?” 

It wasn’t said to the room, obviously. It was said to you as you stood next to him and sorted out the pastry orders for the rest of the team. You just looked back at him and gave him a small smile and a brief nod. You didn’t have to say anything for JJ to know her worst nightmare was confirmed, and yet she couldn’t stop herself from asking her own question as she stood in front of you and waited for the items she requested. 

“What’s friday?” It sounded just as angry as JJ felt. But what didn’t help the situation was the way you flinched at her tone and how your eyes widened in fear. 

“Oh– uh…” you stuttered, your eyes still looking at JJ with shock and confusion. “We’re just going for drinks, no big deal.” 

Why did JJ feel her stomach drop at the way your eyes moved from hers to then look down at the floor? JJ winced at her own actions, but it was like something else took over for her as your words began to sink in. “Can I see you in my office, (Y/N)?” Suddenly, she was on autopilot as the idea of you going out at night with him washed over her like molten lava. “Alone.” 

She caught the look you gave the intern and the look he gave back, and JJ’s rampant jealousy flared, but to her relief you just nodded.

She didn’t wait for you to start moving before she turned on her heel and started striding to her office. When JJ reached the office she held the door for you and you walked in on shaky legs. She would’ve felt guilty at how nervous she was making you, but right now she could care less. She needed to squash these plans, no matter what. She had no idea how, but right now logic was out the window. 

“Listen, I know that dating is frowned upon in the office but it’s not a–”

“You’re right,” JJ cut you off mid sentence, closing the door behind you with a slam. “So why are you announcing to the whole office that you intend to do it anyways?”

“L-look I’m sorry,” you were panicking as you looked back at JJ, still standing between you and the door with her arms crossed. “But it’s not a date. We’re going out for drinks. That is all, nothing the team doesn’t do regularly.”

“It’s completely different,” JJ snapped back. 

“How so?” You were just confused if you were being honest. Not mad at the reaction of your colleague, but utterly lost to why it seemed like JJ was so angry from this that she was visibly shaking.

“Because he wants to sleep with you!” JJ knew she was breaking some sort of rules with HR with that outburst but she could care less. Her nails were digging into her own arms as she stood, fuming in front of you.

“That–” You honestly couldn’t think of a comeback. You were so shocked by her outburst that your mind was racing too fast for you to keep up. “Why do you care?” It was all you could manage to ask. 

“Why do you want to?” JJ really needed to stop at this point, but her blood was boiling and her skin was on fire and she kept taking steps until she was in your personal space and had backed you up against her own desk.

“It’s not against the rules, it’s just frowned upon, but I won’t lose my job for it. I’m allowed to get a drink with him.” You were trying to rationalize something that you didn’t even want to do. It was just drinks, and he was nice, you didn’t want to date him you just wanted to have a good time with someone for a few hours until you had to go home to an empty apartment, was that so wrong? 

“It’s not okay.” JJ was breathing hard and she was standing so close to you that you could practically feel her body against yours.

“Why?” You were getting frustrated. Your brain was working fast, trying to figure out what the hell was going on here.

The simple “why” was something JJ couldn’t answer. She didn’t have an angry remark, she didn’t have anything smart to say. Her heart was beating so fast she could hear it pounding in her ears and all she could manage was a frustrated, “It just fucking isn’t!”

“Does this have to do with the team or is this just your problem, JJ?” You were finally pushing back, but you still remained still. The confusion was irritating and her bad attitude was starting to rub off on you. The way her adrenaline was pumping, her aggressive reaction, it was all seeping into you and suddenly your scared demeanor flipped. “You’ve had a problem with me since day one! What is it? You’re trying to push me out right? I can’t even make friends with the intern, is that it? If you want me out of this team so badly, I can just go because obviously this isn’t working out! Not when every single little thing I do pisses you off so badly. I don’t know what I even did you, but I’ve had it with–”

And just like that JJ snapped. All control went out the window. You were mid angry rant but the thought of you leaving the BAU scared her just as much and her resolve crumbled. 

Her lips smashed against yours with such a force that you had to brace yourself on her desk until your knuckles turned white. Her kiss was brutal, it was angry, it was passionate and the way she had finally released her own arms to grip your chin had you grunt against her lips. Your eyes were wide for a moment as her lips pressed harder against yours, moving in a way so yours parted enough for her tongue to graze yours. And when it did you couldn’t help the way your eyes slipped shut and a slight shiver ran through your body. One of her hands was still gripping your chin tight, but the other had snaked its way down and around your waist so you didn’t have to steady yourself so hard on her desk. This also meant her full body was pressed up against yours and you were surprised by how much heat you felt as she leaned into you. You were also surprised by how much your own body melted into hers as she let out a groan against your own lips. It wasn’t until you heard that groan that you realized, you had been kissing her back. You had maybe resisted for a moment, but at some point your hands weren’t on the desk but in her hair, your lips had parted more, and you had let her tongue run against yours in a hungry frenzy. 

But then reality sunk in for a moment and, since you no longer needed the support to stay up right since you were now seated on her desk, you removed your hands from her hair and moved them to her chest to shoved hard. Surprisingly hard for someone who had maybe a fraction of JJ’s strength.

She stumbled back, her eyes wide and her lips red and wet from the force and messiness of the kiss she didn’t mean to give. There was a pause, a silence that hung over the room as you both just stared at each other. 

JJ was trying to think of excuses, of reasons for why the hell she would force herself on you like that. She was so angry she didn’t think and now she was angry at herself for doing something so out of character.

But then you took a deep breath and JJ’s eyes flew from the floor back up to meet your own. “So…” you cleared your throat as you struggled to find the words you wanted to use. “I guess that explains some things.” 

And then you laughed, a real, genuine laugh, and JJ’s whole body relaxed. 

—----------------------------------------------------------

Obviously, you did not go out for drinks with the intern. Instead, you and JJ had a talk and JJ had essentially poured her guts out to you and you had told her that you felt the same exact pull she was feeling. The only difference was, you actually knew how to handle your feelings, but with how JJ had been acting, you had convinced yourself that it was very much one sided. 

Clearly it wasn’t, and after that moment in the office you had decided to try to follow your feelings with her, albeit slowly and without announcing it to the team for at least a good while. Keeping it a secret from the team was working out well, but the taking things slow part went out the window basically the same night as your first kiss. 

JJ had the idea of talking alone, just the two of you at her place. That very quickly ended in her taking you right then and there on her couch for the first time. You should’ve been embarrassed you couldn’t even make it to her bed, but the way she kissed you like she was trying to savor every single inch of you, you never stood a chance at resisting her. 

After that, well, the two of you were goners. Sneaking office kisses– and sometimes even more… whenever you’d get the chance. She insisted on being secretive and careful for numerous reasons, and you were okay with that as long as it meant JJ was all yours. 

After six months of sneaking around had gone by, you did, however, reveal your secret to her child. It was entirely by accident and all due to the ex of hers that you never liked, nor trusted. 

You both had been in bed, wrapped around each other the way you both would every single night since you exchanged “I love yous” three months prior. This time, luckily, you were both clothed. Both of you were tired from a case and just wanted to fall asleep in the safety of each other’s arms. 

But then, early in the morning, an excited blonde head peaked through the door and that peaceful sleep you were once in was rudely awakened. It felt like someone drenched you in frigid water, the way JJ’s eyes snapped open and met yours in terror before snapping to the child bounding for the bed. 

She jumped up with record speed and met him before he could jump in. “Henry, h-hi buddy. What are you doing here? Where’s your dad?”

Before she could even answer she heard his voice call from further in the house. “Hey, we just let ourselves in!” You really hated that he had his own key, but knew as they were co-parents it was necessary. Plus, that’s not what was on your mind right now. Now, you were also standing out of bed and just looking around the room helplessly as if hiding would solve anything. 

“Mommy, you had a sleepover?” His innocent question felt like a shot to the heart. You both froze. JJ had a forced smile on her face that she directed toward her son but you couldn’t bring yourself to fix your expression. It was one of utter shock and horror. 

You had met Henry, even spent plenty of time with him in the last six months. JJ would just say you’re a good friend and he happily accepted that. In all honesty, he adored you and you felt the same for him, each time you saw him it felt more like you were becoming a family, even if he was totally oblivious to that feeling. But the two of you hadn’t talked about actually telling him what you were, you never wanted to push it with JJ. 

“Uh…” JJ laughed nervously, her eyes shooting between him and you. “Yeah, buddy.”

She was trying hard to think of some way to come up with an excuse for what you were doing in her bed. She knew he didn’t really need an answer, but she feared what he would say to his father, her ex, when Henry inevitably spilled the beans. 

“So,” you heard Will’s voice call from the hall. “We thought we’d surprise you, take you to breakfast!” 

His voice was getting closer and closer and you were frozen in place. There was no way for you to hide now, nowhere for you to run. 

“Sorry to wake you and all, doll,” his voice continued to get louder. “But the little guy just wanted to surprise you.” 

You could hear the creaks of his steps right around the corner. 

“So what do you say?” His voice was right by the doorway now. “Breakfast as a family sounds…”

He didn’t finish his sentence as he entered the doorway. his voice trailed off and his eyes were wide. He was looking between the child clinging to his ex and you, a person he’s met two or three in passing because of the job, standing two feet from the bed. A bed that was unmade and clearly slept in by both of you. 

“You have company.” His whole demeanor changed in an instance. His eyes hardened and his jaw set. “I didn’t know…”

He trailed off again and you heard the unspoken words. He didn’t know JJ was seeing other people. He didn’t know JJ was seeing a co-worker. He didn’t know JJ even liked women. They were all questions you could see swirling in his mind. 

“I’m just leaving,” you finally spoke up. Something told you, you didn’t want to be here for whatever discussion was about to happen. JJ looked over as soon as she heard your voice and gave you both an apologetic, but relieved look. 

You didn’t even gather your clothes. You grabbed your phone and keys, and left in your fuzzy pajamas. 

When you got back to your place you were a mess. Nothing could’ve prepared you for starting your morning like that. JJ sent a text maybe fifteen minutes after you got back home with a quick apology and a promise to talk later. 

But then you didn’t hear from her for hours after that. And hours more once the sun went down. And then suddenly the weekend went by and hours became days. JJ took time off of work and those days turned in to almost two weeks.

You were a mess. The team saw, but didn’t say anything. You just tried your best to do the job. 

For JJ’s part she was also a mess. She knew she needed to see you, to talk to you, to do what she never thought in a million years that she would ever do. That’s why she was ghosting you, so she could put off the pain that she knew was going to feel like ripping out her own heart and stomping all over it and yours in the process too. 

After that day, Will and her had argued. He had told her that he never expected her to move on to someone else. That he always expected she would come back to him once they both felt less married to their jobs. When JJ had said that, though, that was just her excuse to spare his feelings. Will had never made her happy, not in the way she was when she was with you. 

But his words still twisted in her gut like a knife. They spent hours screaming back and forth about everything until he finally took the low blow and used Henry as an excuse. He convinced JJ that when they were apart, Henry would be a mess that he couldn’t be with both his parents at once. 

If JJ was thinking logically, she would’ve seen through that lie since Henry not once mentioned that to her. But she was caught off guard and Will was pressing all the right buttons to make her guilt and anxiety rise, until finally she heard herself give in to him. 

She uttered four words to him and that was all it took to realize JJ had lost this battle. “I’ll break it off.” 

JJ wasn’t ready to accept the full weight of those words. It’s why she didn’t answer your calls or texts and why she took off work for over a week. In that time she didn’t see Will either though. After a few days he added into his arguing that they needed to try again and she adamantly disagreed. She tried to push alternatives, more time spent together with Henry, but not together in a romantic sense. He wasn’t happy about it, but agreed to take what he could get, always saying it was a “start” but JJ didn’t like what that implied. 

What made matters even worse was that she saw you before she was ready to face you and it all happened completely by accident. 

It was rounding on two weeks and JJ was running out of vacation time, so she knew she had to break the news to you soon, she just wasn’t ready for it to be that soon. 

Except, she had foolishly agreed to dinner with Will to discuss Henry away from the house. He convinced her that their son didn’t need to hear them argue and that they’d be more likely to keep their voices level in public. She really shouldn’t have agreed, but she did. And that’s how she found herself seated across from Will at a semi-nice restaurant for the evening. 

To add to everything else, when she realized you were there too, was the exact moment that Will reached out and put his hand over her own. She wasn’t even sure what he was saying, not when the rest of the world felt like it was frozen and crumbling around her all at the same time. 

There you were, about to be seated with Emily walking in behind you. The look in your eye told JJ she didn’t need to say any words to rip your heart out, you figured it out on your own all in that moment. To make matters worse, JJ would usually recoil from Will’s touch, but being so shocked to see you, she couldn’t move a single muscle. 

Your eyes switched between looking at her horrified face to Will’s smug one and then finally to the way his hand laid over hers. It made you sick. Emily stopped in her tracks behind you taking in the scene and no doubt understanding why your body language had changed. 

She had taken you out, guessing the relationship between you and JJ within seconds of it starting. She also knew there was trouble in paradise, so when Emily confirmed you hadn’t heard from JJ after over a week had gone by, she thought a nice dinner would help. At least it would get you out of the apartment. You had stopped leaving other than to go to work since that fateful day. 

Emily didn’t need to see your face to know it was filled with hurt. She put one hand on your shoulder and leaned close to whisper a simple “let’s go” in your ear. 

JJ watched, sick to her stomach, as you nodded and turned back around. All too late her brain fully processed what happened and she shot up from her seat as she watched Emily help put your coat on at the door. 

There was no conversation after that. You didn’t need one, you understood and you avoided her like the plague. 

————————-

Three months went by after that. The two of you only talked when you needed to. You spent more and more time laying in bed than you’d like to admit and JJ… Well, she fell into a pit of self loathing for how much you were hurting. 

Still she didn’t give into Will, despite what you and others might think. She would go along with his plan to spend more time together, but only platonically. And the only reason she agreed to that was because the days she spent at home without Henry were torture. She would stare at the phone and hope for you to call or for her to get the courage to call you, knowing she really could not do that after everything. 

If she wasn’t staring at the phone alone on her own, or ignoring her heartache by spending time with her son, she was busy staring at you any time you worked together. You felt her eyes burn into the back of your head and it always made your chest hurt. You tried your best to ignore it, to ignore her, but there was only so much you could do when she hovered.

Again, you were thinking about finding another job. The only thing was you had just gotten comfortable here. And really, Emily had been your rock through all of this. She had spent a lot of time listening to your heartbreak when you finally revealed what she already knew about the two of you. Emily had even offered to try to talk some sense into JJ, but that avoiding that she was extending to you had unfortunately also extended to the rest of the team. She couldn’t handle seeing any of them, especially if they were going to, undoubtedly, question her about her increased time with Will and what was going on with her intense mood. 

The closeness of you and Emily was starting to drive JJ crazy. She had a million questions ever since she saw her put a hand on your shoulder that fateful day. But she also fully recognized that she had absolutely no right to ask you any questions, and honestly she didn’t think she could handle hearing them for two reasons. One being that if Emily and you were romantically involved it would crush JJ even more, the other being that last time JJ got jealous, her control slipped and that’s what led her to this heartache in the first place.

So instead, JJ just watched and tried to see if she could figure out exactly what was going on. Of course, she told herself she also watched to protect you. Maybe she was a coward who fled from you, but she was still trying to keep some of the promise she made to herself about you since the first day she met you. She already let some of your light die, but she knew that was from how she had hurt you. Those wounds would heal, at least she thought so, but the way this job can leave an impression on a person really couldn’t. She just couldn’t have you getting hurt by anything else. 

Except, when she pushed for you to be away from a case, you started pushing even more strongly for that exact case that she so badly did not want you to have. It was like you were purposely putting her through hell. She had to worry about you and keep her distance for some of these cases, the only good thing was that with Emily close to you now, at least two capable agents could protect you. Anytime she saw Emily do exactly what she swore she would always do, protect you, comfort you from the horrors of a bad case, it would feel like JJ’s heart was ripping at the seams.

And then there was one case that was just too horrible that even JJ could barely stomach it. But you still insisted on heading over with the team. JJ watched with a grimace on her face as Emily sat by you on the jet, her hand on your arm, trying to coach you on what to expect and how to take precautions. JJ was fuming at her close proximity and the way Emily was gentle with you in a manner she didn’t think she had ever seen from the other agent.

It wasn’t at all what JJ thought, though. You didn’t mean to challenge JJ when you insisted on these cases. You just couldn’t stomach going home to your empty apartment so much anymore, not when the ache of losing JJ was getting even worse. So you clung to Emily, your new friend, your confidant. She was a small light in the darkness that was surrounding you both at work and in your own personal life. There was nothing romantic between you two, it was just like you clicked as fast friends and that’s what you really needed right now.

So when a hard case came up and Emily was assigned to it, you insisted on going too so you wouldn’t feel so alone. Every single time, you ignored the snide remarks JJ made when she didn’t get her way. And you definitely tried not to acknowledge the jealous glaring JJ would send your way any time Emily put her hand on you. Deep down, you knew exactly what JJ was thinking about when it came to your closeness with Emily and you hoped she thought it. In fact, you hoped it hurt her. At least then she would have a taste of the suffering she put you through each night you knew she would go home to Will. 

But with this last case, everything was just so much worse. 

Not only were you in a small town with a hotel that had limited availability– so of course, to JJ’s utter dismay, you shared a room with Emily– but you insisted on being way too close to where the danger was. JJ couldn’t help but think that you were so over her and into Emily that you couldn’t be separated for one goddamn second. It wasn’t like that though, if JJ was being logical, she would’ve known it was because you were determined to help in any way you could. 

Except, being closer to the case meant you were closer and closer to being the next victim of this unsub and it had JJ near her breaking point yet again. She hovered closer than ever, and you felt that from the way her fiery eyes would stare at you for hours on end as you and Emily worked closely together on how best to respond to the public while she was busy trying to find the killer.

And of course, the perfect storm came the moment both JJ and Emily took their eyes off you. You got attacked, you almost got shot, you could’ve died. JJ was tired of watching you walk into a hotel room with Emily right behind you and she had to ask. She couldn’t handle it anymore, she told herself if she just found out that you were at least happy with Emily then she would stop hovering, she would try to stop caring.

So she pulled Emily aside, for a moment– it was just a moment. But it was all it took for you to get snatched. JJ didn’t get to ask her question, she heard the struggle and her stomach dropped when she turned around and you weren’t there.

Then, of course, it was Emily who stayed calm. It was Emily who made the plan. It was Emily who found you, found the unsub, and rescued you from a fate JJ was always worried you’d meet. You were bruised and battered, but ultimately fine. JJ wanted to run to you, to hold you and comfort you and care for your wounds, but it was Emily who ran to you first. It was Emily who pulled you into her arms and squeezed you tight. And as JJ ran in behind her and saw the way she held onto you and you held onto her, her feet froze and she couldn’t bear to look at either of you. 

Seeing all of that, going through that case on the sidelines while you were almost lost forever, it was killing JJ. She couldn’t pretend she was okay without you anymore, she couldn’t pretend to be a happy family with Will either. She didn’t know what was happening between you and Emily, but she had to find out, and more than anything she had to see if she could get you to give her another chance.

Emily was her friend, and part of her felt guilty that if her assumptions were true she would essentially be trying to steal her best friend’s girlfriend, but you were hers first. JJ wanted you to be only hers always, and she was just now waking up to that realization.

—-----------------------------

As soon as you all returned from that case, JJ set the record straight with Will. She had long since realized that Henry didn’t really care to spend time with them together. If anything, JJ realized, Henry missed time with you. 

Will did not take it well, but JJ was prepared for that. She threatened court and full custody and he finally backed down. She had gotten him to agree to only see each other for drop offs with Henry and forced him to give her spare key back.

A week had gone by since that case, but the whole team was still feeling the exhaustion from it. When Penelope suggested everyone get drinks, JJ surprised herself by agreeing. But then again, she saw the way Emily approved of that idea and knew that if Emily was going, you would be there. JJ was determined to figure out what was happening between the two of you and watching the way you two were together at the bar would be an excellent clue before JJ finally got up the nerve– for the second time –to confront Emily and figure things out. 

When you all got to the bar, JJ noted how the two of you came in together. She wasn’t surprised, but it made her blood boil in a way that was familiar to when that intern got too close to you. 

You sat in a booth with Penelope and Morgan chatting away while Emily sat her stuff next to you and went to the bar for a couple of drinks. JJ sat at a table with Hotch and Reid, they were discussing something beyond her, but she couldn’t bother to listen. Her eyes were glued to you.

For the most part, you knew she was staring, but you had gotten really good at ignoring it the past few months. Except, this last week it had been worse. She would not only stare at you, but glare at Emily, her own friend. You knew, by the way your pulse sped up each time you caught the look JJ was wearing, that something had to give, you just didn’t know when. You especially didn’t think it would be on a night at the bar, with the entire team surrounding you. 

Three drinks in for you and Penelope suggested some dancing. You didn’t dance, Emily didn’t dance, but Penelope pulled the two of you up and out of the booth anyways. So then you found yourself dancing very close to Emily while Penelope was happily moving along with the music and Morgan right next to you. 

You had never been a good dancer though, so when you tripped on your own feet Emily’s arms flung out to catch you and you found yourself pressed against her. It all happened entirely too fast after that. 

There was a loud slam of a glass somewhere in the distance and then a hand roughly tugging your whole body back by the shoulder. “Can I talk to you for a second?” JJ’s voice was louder than it needed to be, even over the music. Emily had backed up, her hands in the air as if JJ was armed and aiming for her. 

You didn’t even know when JJ had spun you around and away from Emily’s embrace. Your head turned to look at Emily and her face wasn’t even shocked. It was just expectant and unsurprised. She gave you a short nod, looking at you with soft eyes, but before you could even agree JJ pressed again.

“Do I need to ask for your permission to talk to (Y/N)?” 

“JJ!” You gasped at her harsh tone. She had never talked to Emily like that, she would never dare. But she’s also had a couple drinks and she was about done watching her best friend have her hands all over the girl of her dreams. 

“It’s not my decision,” Emily said, keeping a calm and level tone. 

“Excellent,” JJ hissed as her hand grabbed yours and tugged.

She had realized that meant it was up to you, but she didn’t give you a chance to agree. She needed to figure this out alone, right then and there, and in her anger she decided she needed to hear you say it. She needed you to admit that you were able to move on from her so quickly and with her closest friend no less. How could you even do something like that to her? JJ was seething. Yes, she knew it looked like she immediately moved on with Will before even actually properly breaking up with you, but she hadn’t! Aside from that moment where he touched her hand, JJ wouldn’t let him have any sort of physical contact with her after that. She loathed his touch, and she couldn’t imagine you’d be able to handle anyone else’s but hers. After all those nights of admitting to her that you were hers alone, she never thought you’d move on so quickly. But here you were, and to her, it looked like you were utterly wrapped up in Emily.

“JJ, what the actual fuck?” you were protesting as JJ was dragging you across the bar and towards the bathroom. She didn’t seem to care though, as she practically shoved you into the bathroom before stepping in and locking the door behind you.

“I didn’t say that I wanted to talk!” You took a step back from her.

“We need to,” JJ snapped back. She realized she was one to talk, considering the two of you never properly had a break up conversation. But at least now, you could have that or some sort of conversation. Whatever was going to happen, JJ knew it needed to be said.

“We could’ve done that any other time,” you began with your arms crossed over your chest. “It’s been months. And now, with everyone having seen your little outburst– Now, you want to talk to me?” 

“What’s going on between you and Emily?” Okay, so JJ was ignoring everything you said to her now. JJ knew this wasn’t the healthiest way to work out her feelings, but she couldn’t help it. This was driving her crazy, her control was slipping again. There was just something about you that made the resolve she worked on for your years go out the window.

“What?” You took another step back in surprise. JJ followed. “Nothing! Why do you care?” 

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” JJ pressed, taking another step into your personal space.

“Why. Do. You. Care.” You emphasized every word, getting more angry by the second. 

“It hasn’t been that long, (Y/N)!” JJ was still taking a step forward for every step back you took until your back hit the bathroom wall. “Now you’re fucking my friend?”

“So what if I am?” You threw your hands up in frustration. “I can fuck whoever I want! I can go home with a random stranger, I can go home with Emily, I can fuck anyone I want. You know why, JJ?” Your finger poked hard into her chest as you finally reached your own breaking point. “Because you’re fucking your ex and you didn’t even have the decency to break up with me!”

“So you are fucking Emily?”

“Jesus Christ, JJ!” You were yelling, you knew you were yelling, and you knew someone could hear you if they were too close to the bar bathroom. At this point you didn’t care. “NO! I am not, but you know what, maybe I will. Maybe I’ll go home with Emily tonight, maybe I’ll go home with a stranger. I don’t have to be alone just because you decided you don’t want to be with me anymore. And I think it’s time for me to finally, finally move on from you JJ. I’m not yours, I don’t belong to you, I can go fuck–” you practically spit out the word, “whoever the fuck I want.” 

JJ stopped for a second. An uncomfortable silence fell over you as you huffed in heavy breathes from your outburst and the rage boiling through your veins. You took a step forward trying to leave, but in that moment JJ took one too until you were forced to retreat, your back again pressed to the wall. This time she was right in your personal space, much like that first day that she kissed you.

“No you can’t,” JJ’s voice shook with anger as she spoke, but it wasn’t a yell. It was a low, daring tone that made your skin crawl. 

“What?” Your eyes were wide in shock that JJ, after your outburst, would still deny you your own freedom. “Yes, I ca–” 

You couldn’t finish your words, JJ was already on you. In fact, she was pressing her whole body so hard against yours, you barely had room to gasp. It couldn’t be heard anyway, not with the way her lips crushed into yours with blinding speed. 

It wasn’t going to be like the first time though, you weren’t going to give in that easy. You turned your head after a moment of her lips pressed to yours and took a deep breath before trying to protest.

“You’re with Will now!” You gasped out as you felt JJ’s lips meet your jaw line. 

“I never was,” she breathed against your skin. Your blood went cold at that, but you didn’t even have time to process before JJ’s hand snaked between the two of you and cupped your chin. With little effort, due to the shock of her words, she pulled your head back so your lips could meet hers again and all you could manage to do was let her kiss you. 

But some sense came back to you the moment you felt her teeth tug at your bottom lip. You pushed on her chest and tried to turn your head again, only able to mumble a weak, “I don’t understand…” against her lips. 

Her hold on your chin tightened, keeping you in place as she used her body weight to keep you still against the wall. “This has been torture,” JJ groaned against you. Her fingers clenched harder around your jaw as she dragged her lips across yours once again. “I can’t handle it anymore.” Her lips pressed firmly against yours this time and all you could do was whimper against her mouth. 

“I’m not with Will,” she continued to mumble breathlessly against your mouth. Your hands braced themselves on either side of her waist as she pressed you harder and harder against the wall. “You’re supposed to be mine,” she practically growled against your lips.

She was filling all your senses and your head was swimming. You were supposed to hate her, she left you. She hid you and then she got back with her ex, but here she was devouring your lips with her own. You weren’t supposed to swoon at the way she called you hers or melt when you felt her tongue dance against your own. But you couldn’t help it… she was all you ever wanted. 

Your body practically melted in her arms as her lips dragged themselves over yours before fully claiming your mouth in a searing kiss. The way her tongue swept over your lips until finally you parted yours had your head swimming. When you both heard and felt the groan that escaped her own mouth your whole body shuddered. You really shouldn’t be doing this, you knew that somewhere deep down in your mind. But every time her tongue ran against yours that thought got pushed back further and further until all that was left was just her. 

When one of her hands left from around your waist to tangle in your hair, you knew you were a goner. Her lips had left yours to attach themselves to your neck and you did nothing to stop it. The hand that had made its way to your hair was now tightened into a fist and she was pulling hard, making you tilt your head back so she could have more access to the most sensitive parts of your neck. All you could do was whine and squeeze your eyes shut as the overwhelming feeling of JJ’s tongue making its way down to your collarbone was driving you crazy. 

There was no way you were going to snap out of this. You knew that the aftermath of whatever was happening between the two of you in this moment would break you as soon as it was over, but you had missed her so much. If she was being driven crazy just because she saw you for two seconds with someone else, how did she think you felt? It was torture not having this with JJ anymore. You craved this. You needed it. 

But still there was that one voice. It was so small and distant now, but it was still telling you this was not a good idea. That you should push her away before this would hurt too much. JJ leaving you the first time had broken you and you’re barely putting the pieces back together. What happens if you break again? Will there be enough of you left to even salvage? 

It was the feeling of JJ’s teeth biting down hard into the most sensitive part of your neck that somehow finally broke you out of the trance you had fallen under. It was like someone dumped ice cold water on your system and your entire body went ridge. JJ was too focused on the feeling of having you in her arms and against her lips again to notice, though. 

She kept going, running her tongue over the angry red mark she had just left. Your hands were balled into fists again at either of her sides and if she noticed that you were trying to lean away from her, she didn’t seem to care.

“JJ, wait,” your voice was quiet and hoarse. If you could’ve you would’ve been more assertive, but your head was still swimming. Your hands pressed harder onto her sides, trying to keep her still while you pushed your own body away, but her grip was strong. One of her hands tightened in your hair and the other around your waist; the action made you wince. 

“Please, stop.” Your voice was a little louder now and you felt the reality of the last few moments settle in your stomach like a bowling ball. Thankfully, JJ finally took notice of this. Her body stilled and her head tilted back up with hooded, hungry eyes. For a split second you wanted to throw it all away, but that tiny voice had officially won.

“Why?” JJ was still holding onto you, but the hand in your hair had finally moved back to your waist. 

“JJ, I can’t handle this. I could barely handle sneaking around, I definitely can’t handle being your little secret again until you decide to leave and go play family. Or make me the other woman… or whatever is going on here.” 

“You’re not those things, you would never be those things.” JJ’s eyes said it all as she uttered that sentence. The pain in them had shown, but it just added to your confusion over this whole situation. You were torn between wanting to yell at her and comfort her all at the same time.

“Then what am I, JJ?” You needed to press this. She can’t just keep you from moving on, she can’t keep interjecting when someone shows slight interest. Either this all needed to stop for good or the both of you needed to finally figure things out. “What is it that you really want?”

“It’s…” JJ stood still, her hands still gripping your waist. The sound of the drip of the faucets nearby seemed deafening in the uncomfortable silence, but yet you waited. “You. I want you.” 

There was a pause and you took a deep, shaky breath to ground yourself. “What does that mean, JJ?” You whispered your question, afraid to get your hopes up. 

“That I want to do this for real. I’m done holding back,” JJ’s hand released you for a moment to brush hair from your face and tuck it behind your ear. “I’ll tell everyone, I’ll vow to never leave you again. I just can’t be without you anymore longer.” 

You searched her eyes for a moment and this time you could see the sincerity shining through them.

“Just tell me you’re mine,” JJ whispered as she pressed her forward to yours. “Just please, tell me you’re mine.” 

“I- I’m…” you took another deep breath, squeezing your eyes tight before tilting your head up so JJ would move hers down. “I’m yours,” you breathed with a soft kiss placed on her forehead. 

When JJ heard those words her hands moved once again to hold either side of your face, bringing your lips in for another searing kiss. But this time you were ready and you met her with as much passion. 

She kissed you like that for a while, her lips pressing completely against yours in a way that left you gasping for air against her mouth. After a moment JJ left your lips and kissed up your jaw. She made her way to your ear and leaned into you closer, her breath tickling as she took a moment to enjoy the way you were panting and shaking against her. “Can we get out of here?” JJ’s voice was filled with so much want as her teeth grazed your ear. You bit your lip to stop yourself from letting out an embarrassing whimper at the words you longed to hear once again, and nodded your response instead. 

——————- 

Getting into her place was messy. As soon as the Uber dropped you off, JJ’s lips, tongue, and teeth were all over you again. The way she was kissing you, you already knew you were a mess for her. 

As soon as she managed to get her front door open, she slammed it closed and then slammed you onto it, grinding her knee between your legs as she kissed you in a frenzy. At some point, the two of you had pulled off your shoes and she had scooped you up, still kissing you like crazy, as she walked the two of you to the bedroom. 

When she flung you onto the bed, with more excitement than grace, you didn’t even have time to react before she was on top of you, pulling at yours and her own clothes.

“Tonight,” JJ growled against lips, “you’re going to know that you belong to me alone, always.” You felt her hips roll against yours from where she had already gotten between your legs and you gasped at the sensation. 

“And you— you’re- oh god.” JJ’s teeth were sinking into your neck again and her hands already had your shirt and bra over your chest so her fingers could play with your nipples. It was making full sentences nearly impossible to get out. “Y-you’re mine.”

“All yours, princess,” JJ purred as her tongue and teeth moved down your neck and onto your chest. The second you felt her warm mouth close around your nipple, you couldn’t stop the pathetic whine that fell from your lips. You didn’t even notice that JJ had also managed to pull your shirt over your head, you were just so far gone in all the sensations she was giving you and she hadn’t even really started yet. 

JJ spent time paying attention to your breasts, alternating between your nipples with her lips and teeth while she continued to rock her thigh between your legs and encouraged you to grind on her. Things were building up fast too, you could feel yourself getting worked up and close to release, but you desperately wanted more. More of her touch, more of her hungry possessiveness, more of everything. 

It was like she read your mind though, because in an instant she was pulling away. You started to whine but then you felt her hands pull at your tight jeans and you were just relieved that it meant more direct contact with JJ where you needed her most. But then, once you were finally completely naked, JJ got off the bed. 

“Where are you going…” you trailed off as your eyes followed her to her night stand. You didn’t need an answer, as you watched her pull out a silk bag that outlined its contents quite obviously. JJ quickly removed the rest of her clothes before returning to the foot of the bed. 

“I got this a while ago for us,” JJ admitted as she pulled out what the bag was not-so-discreetly hiding. “But I was holding off on telling you, I was worried I would get too intense if we tried it, but…” JJ was back on the bed, kneeling between your legs, her hands on either of your knees. “I’m tired of holding back, aren’t you?”

You swallowed hard as your eyes zeroed in on what JJ’s hands were doing. With a pink, double-sided strap in her hands, she was spreading lube on both sides. You couldn’t help but notice how one side was quite larger than the other. 

“It vibrates by the way,” JJ’s wink was even visible in the dimly lit room. “Are you okay with this?”

You appreciated the check in, and yeah you were nervous for this, but you also had never wanted something more than this moment right now. “Yes,” you practically moaned the word in excited anticipation. 

“Good,” JJ gave you a smile more mischievous than you’ve ever seen it. And your eyes were still completely transfixed on the way her hands were lowering the toy down between her legs. “Let me just…” she trailed off as she took it inside herself and you watched in a trance as she shivered at the sensation. 

Then it was your turn. She readjusted your own legs, spreading you wider and you couldn’t help but feel yourself flush at how exposed you were. You also knew you were incredibly wet from her already. Even if she used lube, you didn’t think you needed it. Although, it was big, and the biggest you’ve ever taken before was just her three fingers… 

The toy lining up with your entrance is what woke you up from your thoughts and you gulped. JJ’s pupils were blown as she looked down at your naked body, your pussy dripping wet for her before she even entered you. And then, in a flash, she was all the way in. 

The way you both groaned at the sudden feeling spurred JJ on fast. She was immediately entranced by how good she felt while also being flush between your own thighs. “Doing okay?” JJ’s voice was strained, she was trying hard not to just start fucking you into the mattress. She needed the okay first. 

“Mm.. mhm,” was all you could manage, but you paired it with a nod. Your eyes were shut tight and you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your own hips against JJ’s, desperate to feel her start moving. 

The toy was big, the way it stretched you out burned, but it was so fucking delicious in every way. Except, the moment you rolled your hips a second time that was all it took for JJ to break. She knew she wouldn’t be able to go slow with this toy, not when it felt good to actually feel you somewhat when you try to fuck yourself on the strap. She just didn’t know it would be this good. 

JJ’s grip on your legs tightened and she began to grind into you hard. Your head immediately fell back onto the bed when you felt JJ’s hips rock into your own. She was moving faster than you expected she would and it was all overwhelming. 

With the way JJ was moving, her whole body was now pressed against yours. Moans and desperate sighs came from above you and you couldn’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her even tighter against you. Your hips moved in time with hers and the way you felt her shake in pleasure above you while you took every single pump of the toy into you was incredible. 

JJ’s hand came to your chin and she pulled your head back down until you were face to face, her body never slowing from the way it rutted into you. “Does it feel good?” JJ purred as she kept fucking into you with the strap, every pump pushing her end against the right spot for her. “Do you like what I’m doing to you, princess?” 

You moaned, your eyes squeezing shut tight as JJ pumped even harder in that moment. But JJ’s hand stayed on your chin, squeezing a little tighter than before. “Use your words,” she demanded as her thrusts got more powerful. 

“Yes!” You cried when JJ’s other hand moved to hook your own leg around her waist. “Fuck just— please just don’t stop.” 

“Good girl,” JJ groaned as she felt her own peak building. “Look at me.” 

It was a struggle to open your eyes but you did so just as JJ’s hand moved from your chin to your neck. “You’re mine,” JJ growled as she applied pressure. You groaned out a yes in agreement and JJ moaned as her hips continued to move frantically. 

“You’re mine,” she repeated, fucking into you with full force, “and you’re going to look at me when I make you cum.” Those words were what finally did it, you fell apart on her strap with a loud moan. Her hips never stopped their pace until finally you felt her whole body shudder above you. Her head fell into your neck and you felt the way she moaned and placed wet kisses to your bare skin. The way the orgasm hit JJ was just as powerful as yours and you both slowed for a moment. 

But that moment was short, because as JJ pressed her whole body weight on top of you, you felt her hips roll again and you whined at the sensitive sensation. 

“Shhh,” JJ soothed, “you’re going to give me one more.” 

“JJ I don’t know if-“ her hands were moving down your body, hoisting both your legs this time over her hips. You tried to finish your sentence but you couldn’t with the way she was slowly pumping the toy back into your already sensitive pussy. 

“We haven’t even tried all its features.” You didn’t comprehend what JJ meant until it was too late and she had you gasping in surprise. One of her hands had left your leg and moved down between the two of you. She had turned on the vibration and now, the pink, rather large strap on that was inside both of you was vibrating in a way that was causing your eyes to roll back into your head. 

“Oh my god,” you both said in unison, only your voice sounded like a garbled moan at the same time, while JJ just sounded breathlessly fascinated at the reaction it was pulling from you. 

“This is better than I ever dreamed it would be,” JJ purred as her hips restarted their rocking rhythm into you. The way the toy curved so the base of it hit JJ’s clit at the same time made her struggle with her staying steady and slow, but she knew you were sensitive and needed to be worked back up gently at first. 

With your legs hooked over her waist though, the strap was hitting even deeper than it had been when you first came and now that it was vibrating too, you swore you were seeing stars. 

“That’s it,” JJ whispered as she grabbed your hips and helped you fuck into her strap. “Keep moaning for me, baby, moan my name.” 

You didn’t even know you were doing that. You just couldn’t even control your body. All you could do was moan and whine as you let JJ fuck your into the mattress. 

Your whole body was shaking and JJ’s was too. Her pace was faster again and you knew it was a matter of time before you both came together again, but when JJ reached down and turned up the vibration you instantly fell apart in a show of moans and tears before she could cum with you. 

She didn’t stop there though, she didn’t even turn down the vibration as her hips started going harder. 

“J… JJ I can’t.” You were practically slurring your words, you could barely function with how many sensations were going on as JJ kept using your body to get herself off. 

“Shhh, one more baby one more,” JJ pleaded as she chased her own orgasm using your body. “I wanna cum again too.” 

You just nodded desperately, your eyes shut tight as JJ again pressed her naked body to yours and fucked the toy into the both of you. Her moans were getting louder and yours were matching as your nearly exhausted body was being brought to the edge for a third time. 

JJ hips were slamming hard into yours again, so hard you knew there would be bruises. And the grip she had on your hips was so tight you figured there would be nail marks left over too. But neither of you cared, because when JJ came on top of you again with a desperate moan you couldn’t help the cry that you let out as you felt your body release for a third time. 

And finally, finally after a brief moment, JJ moved to turn the vibration off. Your body jolted at the feeling of it finally stopping, but you couldn’t even pick up your own head to look as JJ slowly pulled the toy out from you and then her. 

“Holy shit,” JJ panted as she rolled off you and pulled your spent body to her chest. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said breathlessly. 

“Good… we’ll give it five minutes and then I want to taste you.” 

“What?!” You perked up at that. Your body was still shaking and you knew your thighs were covered in your own cum. If you came one more time you didn’t think you’d be able to walk tomorrow. 

“I told you,” JJ traced a finger across your jaw as you looked up at her with wide eyes. “I’m not holding back anymore. Tonight I will show you who you belong to and I’m not done showing you yet.”

You gulped as you looked at the resolve in her eyes. You knew there was no stopping this once JJ had decided to let go of control, but this is all you ever wanted. So, maybe another round… or even two… wouldn’t be so bad. At least you both had the day off tomorrow.

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[thehomophobe]

Sitting On Their Lap 😌

Freddy 🐻: You're well-acquainted with sitting on Freddy's lap. The heated silicon acted as a warm cushion for your bottom. The manufacturers made his thighs pretty plush despite his muscular form. Freddy likes to place you on his lap after shows or after anything for that matter. Freddy is a busy man as he is the face of the Pizzaplex. Once things die down, Freddy loves to unwind with you. Your smaller form cradled into his large hands as the two of you chat. All in all, he loves holding you in his lap.

Chica 🐔: While she's deemed the smallest of the gang, she's still taller than you. I said it before in the "Making Out" headcanons, but I'll say it again: Chica's 5'9, you're 5'6. And God does she love using your height as an excuse to baby you. She practically abuses the height difference. Pinch your cheeks and pat your head whilst she giggles and calls you cute. That also means an excuse for lap-sitting. Where Chica plops you into her lap and plays with your hair, squawking about whatever is generated in her motherboard. Sometimes before a show, she has you in her lap while she does her makeup to have one final chat before she hits the stage. Her thighs are so soft and squishy; they make the perfect pillow. Overall, best lap to sit on.

Monty 🐊: Physical affection is his love language, so of course, Monty's hands are around you somewhere some time. From a hand on your hip to just straight up carrying you over the shoulder. No matter the body type, Monty fucking loves holding you. Lap-sitting is very common with the caiman man. (cai-man i need to fucking stop) Most commonly after a show where he unwinds with you on his meaty thighs making out in his green room with the curtains closed and the lights hazy. Sometimes when he's not feeling feisty, he just places you on his lap and holds you for comfort. He'll play a little tune on his bass whilst your head rests on his chest to lull you to sleep.

Roxy 🐺: Lap sitting always includes a free makeover and juicy gossip. You're sitting in front of her vanity whilst her nails comb through your hair and style it on a whim. Will also do her makeup before a show with you on her lap. Her thighs are meaty, but a little soft, and her boobs make the best pillow ever. You'll just stuff your face into her breasts just to rouse her. (She's gonna maim you one way or the other ~) 

Sun 🌞: Expect not a lot of lap sitting. I know, I know, you want to sit on his lap ALL THE TIME, but the dude has to run around the daycare all day to monitor all the children at once. Very little time you get to be in his lap; only a fraction of downtime is when you'll be in his lap comfortably. Although, he's more likely to crawl into your lap out of exhaustion and touch deprivation. He'll probably sleep on you depending on his battery life. When you're in his lap, you two are probably doing arts & crafts together. The tiny chairs are highly uncomfortable, so you eschew sitting on them. Sun's lap is the better option; a heated chest and soft, thin thighs to sit on. You'll never see it with your height difference, but it's obvious that he's flustered about your position. His face is a vibrant red and his fans are whirling faster than a turbine. Oh look, he's stuttering. I-It's just...you look so cute! You're so small compared to him! Even your hands disappear into his hands. He's gonna combust any minute now.

Moon 🌚: Expect lots of lap sitting. Comfort is king for Moon; he was LITERALLY built for this. Unlike Sun, who bouncing around the daycare all day, Moon merely meanders around the sleeping children making sure they're sleeping soundly. Once the final child is put to rest, you and Moon snuggle up against each other. HIs thighs are cold. A cooling cold, not a shivering cold. His legs too are thin, but more meaty and tender than Sun's. Claw-like fingers scratch your head like a scalp massager as soft whispers of sweet-nothing coo your ears, melting you into a dream-like state. Pull up a blanket and get comfy, you deserve this long night's rest.

[wbbpls]

My Girl

Hi! I’m totally new to this, so I’m sorry if this is all over the place. lmk if you guys like it!

—————————————————————————-

After a tough win, the team gathered in Paige’s room since she is hosting the party. Paige is talking to Ice and KK in the kitchen when Azzi walked in. Azzi is her best friend, who might also be the love of her life. Not that Azzi needs to know that. Of course she’s stunning, even in a crop top and jean shorts. The past few months they’ve been crossing the appropriate lines for friendship with lingering touches and flirty banter.

Across the room, some guy was standing way too close to Azzi. Her Azzi. Paige knows Azzi isn’t hers, but it kills her to think of Azzi with anyone else. That guy keeps leaningt in closer and closer to Azzi. Paige tried to look anywhere else, but her eyes had a mind of their own, and Azzi felt those piercing blue eyes burning into her. When Azzi looked over at Paige, she saw something in her eyes she’d never seen before.

When he put his arm on her waist, Azzi stepped backward uncomfortably. Something took over Paige’s body, and suddenly, she was next to Azzi. Her long arms slid around Azzi’s waist, pulling her in and away from that guy. “Hey Az, sorry I took so long. Here’s your drink.”

Azzi leaned into Paige’s soft yet possessive touch. “That’s okay, I was just talking to, uh, Jake, right?”

Barely acknowledging Paige, he responds, “Yeah, so how about that dance?” Is this Jake guy serious? Paige literally has her arm wrapped around Azzi and she wasn’t even sure of his name. Azzi’s whole body stiffened as she leaned further into Paige. “I’m just gonna hang out with my team, but thanks.” He didn’t seem to care. “Aw c’mon Azzi, I’ll show you a good time.”

“She’s good.”

“I didn’t realize I needed to talk to security first. If you didn’t notice, I was talking to Azzi.”

Paige stepped in front of Azzi, making sure he couldn’t touch her. “If you didn’t notice, Azzi said no. So back the fuck off my girl and get out of my apartment.” It just slipped out, but god, Paige wishes she could call Azzi her girl every day.

“Her girl? You for real, Azzi?”

“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend, so maybe give it up and leave us alone.” Speechless, Jake left quickly to avoid further embarrassment.

“Your girl, huh?” Azzi says as her hands rub up Paige’s biceps.

Paige wrapped her arms entirely around Azzi’s waist as if she’d done it every day of her life. Thankfully, the lights are low, hopefully blocking her blush. “Well, hopefully not his girl.”

“Yeah, definitely not looking to be his girl.”

“You lookin to be someone’s girl?” Paige’s eyes drifted down to Azzi’s lips, moving her hand to rest on her lower back. Azzi bites her lip, “Hm, no longer looking, just waiting for her to get it together.” Paige suddenly couldn’t breathe. Does that mean what she thinks it means? They always avoid these conversations, but the liquid courage is pushing boundaries. Paige can’t say that she’s in love with her. She can’t ruin their friendship and everything they’ve built, but she can’t stop touching Azzi either. “Uh, do you want to go dance?”

“Yeah, P, let’s go dance.” Azzi drops her hands down to Paige’s, and Paige starts to think maybe Azzi doesn’t want to stop touching either. The music feels like an excuse to be way closer than friends should, but it all happens so naturally. When Azzi starts to move her hips into Paige slowly, her breath hitches, and she grabs Azzi even tighter. Paige knows there’s no way they can use being best friends as an excuse anymore. She knows their teammates will tease her about this tomorrow, but it doesn’t matter because she has Azzi in her arms. As the beat speeds up, so do their hips as they grind into each other. A soft whimper leaves Azzi's mouth and Paige can’t help herself, “Fuck Az you’re so hot”

They are now face to face, their lips just an inch apart, and Azzi’s hands are in blonde strands. With a mischievous smirk, Azzi says “Yeah? You think so?”

“You have no idea.”

“Then show me.” Paige has never moved so fast in her life. She drags Azzi through the crowd and to her room. Slamming the door shut, Paige shoves Azzi against the wall with one hand on her waist and the other leaning above her head. “Say it again.”

Looking up at Paige with hooded eyes, Azzi practically whispers to Paige, “Show me.”

Paige leans in, their lips brushing, but not fully touching. “You sure, Az?” There’s no going back after this and Paige is praying they never have to.

“Paige, please. I want to be yours.” Something broke inside Paige, and she kissed her like her life depended on it. She’s dreamed of kissing her a million times over, but this kiss is better than she could have ever imagined. Azzi slightly opened her lips, inviting Paige’s tongue. Their kiss progressively got more passionate. Paige began to kiss down Azzi’s cheek to her neck, sucking and biting just to get Azzi to whimper.

“You wanna be mine, huh?” Paige chuckles and says possesivley as she leaves marks down her neck. Letting out a moan at the words, Azzi grips at the hair on the back of Paige’s neck, “Yes, fuck, P, you feel so good.” Paige slips one of her legs between Azzi’s and moves her hand just under Azzi’s breast. “Tell me what you want.”

Pulling Paige’s head back up to her face, Azzi breathes heavily, “I want to be yours, Paige.” Staring into her eyes, Paige finally says it. “You’re mine, Azzi.” Paige pulls at the back of Azzi’s legs, hinting for her to jump into Paige’s arms. Paige picks Azzi up and shoves her hard against the wall, kissing her even harder. Azzi leans her head back, “Mmh, I want you so bad.” Paige takes this as an opportunity to suck at her neck and grind into her hard. The moan that they both release is borderline embarrassing. Their lips reconnect, and Paige walks them over to her bed. “Fuck Az, you look so good,” she says as she straddles Azzi.

They both start pulling off each other’s clothes and grinding into each other. Paige’s hands are hovering dangerously above Azzi’s jean shorts. “Can I?” Azzi nods her head and pushes Paige’s hand down further. Paige fumbles with the button to her jeans as she kisses down her chest. She slips a finger down to rub at her clit. “Fuck, baby please.”

Paige isn’t sure if it’s the term of endearment or the begging, but she knows she’ll do anything Azzi wants. “Tell me who you belong to.” Paige slips two fingers deep into Azzi.

Azzi is a whimpering mess, with her eyes shut, gripping onto the sheets. Paige loves that she can’t speak, but she needs to hear Azzi say it. “Tell me, mama. Who do you belong to?”

“Yours, I’m yours, Paige, fuck!” Azzi yells out as Paige thrusts deeper into her.

“You’re so fuckin sexy, ma. You’re all mine.” Paige can feel Azzi getting tighter. “Your pussy that wet for me, baby?”

Azzi’s eyes are rolling into the back of her head as she grips onto Paige’s shoulder like her life depends on it. “I’m so close, don’t stop.”

Paige laughs at the idea, like she’d ever stop. “C’mon Az, when have I ever done you like that.“

“Paige I love you but shut up and fuck me” Azzi says breathlessly. Did she mean that or was it just in the moment of a fucked out haze? Paige slowed for a moment but knew she couldn’t stop now. She started to rub Azzi’s clit until her legs were shaking. Azzi came screaming her name as Paige continued to finger her guiding her off her high. Out of breathe, Azzi pushed Paige’s fingers away and pulled her up. Paige is trying to act normal about all of this, but Azzi just said she loved her.

Azzi must have noticed Paige’s hesitation, “What’s wrong, P?”

“You love me?” Even to Paige’s ears she could hear the insecurity. Azzi’s face softened as she rubbed across Paige’s jaw. “Of course I love you. I always have. I just have been too scared to push things and risk losing you.”

Paige starts laughing leaving Azzi confused. “Uh, what’s so funny about that?”

“Baby, I’m so fuckin in love with you and we are so dumb.” Azzi smiles, showing those beautiful dimples. “I guess we deserve each other, hm? Maybe now I can return the favor and show you how much I love you.”

Paige can’t believe this is real. Azzi is her girl.

[itsnesss]

I have a request 💖 sensei wolf x reader, she is his wife, and consoles him after his defeat against Johnny Lawrence

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭 | sensei wolf × fem!reader

summary | he's defeated, and you comfort him silently, reminding him that one loss doesn’t define him. you offer your love and support, assuring him you'll always be there, no matter what

warnings | reader!wife, emotional distress, vulnerability, implied past trauma, comforting touch, slight angst, kissing

word count | 1.0 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The sound of the fighters' screams, the crash of punches, all had ceased. Only the stillness remained, as if time itself had decided to stop. There he was, the man who had been an unstoppable force to many, now leaning on one of the training bars, head down, shoulders hunched, as if the weight of defeat was crushing him.

The man who had never known the meaning of surrender, the man who had taught you to fight not only with the body but also with the mind. But in that moment, all he seemed to have was a bitter defeat, marked by the punch of Johnny Lawrence, a man from the past who had resurfaced to teach him a lesson. A lesson that, whether deserved or not, had left him vulnerable. And that feeling of vulnerability was the last thing he accepted.

You could see how his gaze emptied. Sitting there, with his legs stretched out, he seemed smaller, more human, than what people usually saw. You, who knew him better than anyone, understood that behind that facade of strength, of the image of the invincible leader, was a constant battle. Not only against others but also against his own demons, the ones that never disappeared.

You approached him without making a sound. You didn’t need words, only your presence. You knew that the touch of your hands, the warmth of your body near his, would be more effective than any verbal comfort. You leaned in slightly, placing a hand on his shoulder. You didn’t say anything, but you could feel how his body slowly relaxed, as if your touch were an anchor in the middle of the internal storm that was pulling him away.

He didn’t look at you at first. His gaze stayed fixed on the ground, as if he couldn’t find the strength to face you, or maybe, out of pride, he didn’t want to show his vulnerability. You knew the weight of the defeat was heavy for him. He had invested so much in this fight, so much in that image of invincibility he had built over the years, and now it all felt like it was crumbling before his eyes.

Finally, he raised his head, and for the first time, his eyes met yours. His dark eyes, which always seemed to have an answer for everything, now were empty, lost. The look he gave you was that of a defeated man, someone who felt like he had failed not only in front of others but in front of himself.

“I’m sorry...,” he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. “I should have never underestimated him.”

You shook your head softly, giving him a calm, almost imperceptible smile, but one filled with assurance. “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong, Feng.”

But he wasn’t convinced. You could see it, how his mind tried to find an excuse, a way to justify the defeat, how he saw himself as a man who had failed. In his mind, Johnny Lawrence was not just a rival, but a reminder of his own past, of his own vulnerability. His insecurity.

“Johnny is just an obstacle, a challenge. Just another fight. That’s all he is,” you said firmly, taking his hands in yours, which were cold from the tension building up.

He looked at you for a second, skeptical, and then, with a sigh, leaned back, resting his back against one of the dojo walls. “You don’t understand. I’ve always been the best, I’ve always led, but today… today I felt like I had taken a step back. Like my efforts didn’t mean anything.”

You moved a little closer, not taking your eyes off him, and sat next to him. The atmosphere between you both was charged, but what you felt wasn’t hopelessness, but a deep connection. You knew this moment was necessary, that he needed you to remind him of who he truly was, outside of the fight, outside of the dojo.

“It’s not the end of the world, you know?” you said softly, touching his face with one hand, caressing his cheek. “Everything you’ve done up until now, everything you’ve achieved, it doesn’t disappear because of one fight. You don’t define yourself by this defeat, or by the outcome of this match.”

The lament on his face didn’t disappear immediately, but something in his posture changed. You could see how his shoulders slowly relaxed. Despite his pride, despite his resistance, he trusted you, your words. He knew what you said was true.

“What truly matters is who you really are. What you’ve built in your life, the people who follow you, those who respect you. And me, I’ll always be by your side. No matter how many times you fall, Feng, I’ll be here. Always.”

With those words, you felt a weight lift off his shoulders. It wasn’t victory that he needed to hear, but the comfort of knowing that even in defeat, he wasn’t alone. You knew that for him, the fight never ended. And you also knew that, although today’s battle had been important, there was something much bigger than that: the future they could build together.

He looked at you intently, and for a moment, words weren’t necessary. Without saying anything more, he raised his hand and ran it through your hair, touching you gently, as if he were thankful for your support, for your patience. His gaze was deep, but calm. He was a man who had been touched by defeat, but at the same time, felt the strength of your love and understanding.

Then he hugged you, a deep and warm hug. There was no need for words. The simple fact of being there, together, was enough. And in that moment, he knew that no matter how many times he fell, or how the world saw him, he would always have your support, and that was more important than any victory.

“I need you,” he whispered, his voice barely a murmur, as if the vulnerability of that moment had stripped him of his armor.

“I’ll always be here,” you replied, hugging him tighter, clinging to him, to the peace that only he could give you. “No matter what happens, Feng. No matter what comes. We’ll get through it together.”

[ilylmwwifys]

AHH OMG, I LOVE THE NAGUMO FIC PLEASE CAN YOU MAKE A PT3 IM INLOVEEEEEEE

—𝑶𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒂 𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕, 𝑨𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔

⏳ ,, fluff , one-shot , part 1 - part 2 READ a/n (end)

. 🕰 ; He refuses to give up, now that he had found her again—he's never letting her go, never.

You were now packing your things after checking all of your students’ papers swiftly—as expected from a former assassin, of course. Plus, you didn’t want Hana waiting too long.

After the whole thing at Sakamoto's convenience store, which happened just yesterday, your mind was still a mess.

Nagumo.

You had spent years pushing his existence into the farthest corners of your mind, convincing yourself that whatever had happened that night was nothing but a fleeting moment. Yet, in a single instant, he shattered every wall you had built. His embrace lingered like a ghost, a warmth you hadn’t felt in years, one you weren’t sure you were ready to feel again.

And now, here you were, trying to focus on grading papers while your mind kept replaying his words.

"Now that I’ve found her again, I’m never letting her go."

You shook your head, grabbing your bag. "Not my problem anymore," you muttered under your breath. You had a peaceful life now. Nagumo was just a reminder of a past you had buried.

Locking the classroom door behind you, you made your way down the empty school hallways. The sun had already begun its descent, casting golden hues through the windows.

Hana should be waiting at the playground by now. You quickened your pace, eager to see her. As you stepped outside, you spotted her instantly, Hana, laughing as she clung to the swings, her tiny feet kicking at the air. A warm smile made its way onto your lips. No matter what chaos the past tried to throw at you, she was your constant.

But then, your eyes caught something else.

A man stood nearby, hands in his pockets, dressed in a casual red-patterned polo. His dark hair swayed slightly in the evening breeze. He was watching Hana, not in a threatening way, but with a strange softness in his expression.

Nagumo.

Your stomach twisted. Of course.

His eyes flickered up, locking onto yours the moment he noticed your presence. That same familiar, unreadable look crossed his face before his usual teasing smirk returned.

"You’re late," he drawled. "Hana and I were just getting along." Your jaw tightened as you stalked toward him. "What the hell are you doing here?" Nagumo placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. "What, no ‘nice to see you’?"

You huffed, crossing your arms. "I told you, I’m done with that life. With you." Hana, oblivious to the tension, beamed up at him. "Nagumo-san said he used to work with you! Why didn’t you tell me you had cool friends, N/n-chan?"

Your eye twitched. Nagumo-san?!

Nagumo chuckled, giving you a smug look. "See? I already have her approval. That’s step one."

"Step one for what?" you asked warily. Nagumo leaned in slightly, voice dropping just enough that only you could hear.

"For making you stop running."

Your breath hitched.

"And ofcourse to win your heart!"

Before you could respond, Hana grabbed your sleeve. "Can we go get ice cream? Please?" She gave you her best pleading eyes. You hesitated for only a second. "Fine."

"Yippe!" Hana cheered before turning to Nagumo expectantly. He blinked and tilted his head. "What?"

"You’re coming too, right?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, Nagumo grinned. "Of course. Wouldn’t miss it."

You shot him a glare, but he only winked. "Guess it’s a date, then."

You swore your soul left your body.

This man was insufferable.

As you walked ahead with Hana, you could feel Nagumo’s gaze lingering on you, and for the first time in years, you wondered—

Had you really escaped him at all?

Later that night, as you were about to lock your apartment door, your phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: Still up, runaway?

Your heart stopped as you recognized the familiar contact number.

Nagumo.

Of course, he had your number.

Before you could even think about blocking him, another message came through.

Nagumo: By the way, don’t bother trying to disappear this time.

Nagumo: Because this time, I’ll be the one chasing you.

You inhaled sharply, fingers tightening around your phone.

This man was going to be the death of you.

And yet, despite yourself…

You weren’t sure if you truly hated the idea.

. [📜] Thank you for the request anon! This isn't really a part three since I think you assumed that "Melting Hearts" and "Mission: Heartstring!" are the same, but they aren’t. However, you're free to interpret it however you like. This is actually a part two, or rather, a continuation, of my fic "Mission: Heartstring!" I'm also sorry if I posted this late since I was busy with my acads and was dealing personal life problems. Feel free to request more! p.s IM SO SORRY if the plot doesn't make sense at all, if you're dissatisfied you're free to ask a remake one! I'll gladly do:)

ˏ 「🗝」 Once a target, Always = With Nagumo, it was never just about the chase, it was about you. No matter how far you ran, how many walls you built, or how much time passed, he always found his way back to you. Not as a mission, not as an objective, but as something far more dangerous, something real. Because to him, you were never just another target.

You were his.

Reblogs are highly appreciated, commenting is encourage as I always read comments, they motivate me. Please do not repost on other platforms or translate into other languages without my permission. The idea is mine and purely original, do not steal. Any similarities are purely coincidental unless stated otherwise. (If you find a similar plot or my Y/n's character w/o no credits to me, please tell me.) I DO NOT ALLOW ANYONE EVEN IF IT IS A MUTUAL OF MINE OR FRIEND TO STEAL MY CHARACTERS AND PLOT!

[five-rivers]

Feathers and ink are currently winning. When I finish and post this, I will start another ficlet with whatever is winning (or in second place) then.

.

Ghost Writer held out a book to Danny. Its surface was dark leather, tooled in a pattern like overlapping feathers, and the edges of its pages were covered in something gray-green and metallic. It was small enough that it could have easily fit in one of Danny's pockets, and thinner than the composition book Danny had in Language Arts. The one that Desiree had blasted half the pages out of one time. If it wasn't for its vague glow and the obviously expensive materials it was made of, Danny would have thought it was a cheap pocket notebook.

"If you want me to allow you and your... friends into my library," drawled Ghost Writer, "I have one more task."

Danny made a face at him. He, Jazz, and Sam (Tucker's spring break project was revamping 'Team Phantom's' computer setup) had been running around all week doing Ghost Writer's chores. The things he did to get his sister reading material... Although having one less enemy, especially one less enemy who could warp reality as long as they could make a rhyming poem about it, was probably a good idea.

And, as Jazz had pointed out, Danny had wrecked his book. And his Christmas had been ruined, too.

(In Danny's opinion, if the guy could warp reality, he could've tried to warp his poem back into existence before deciding to break the truce and ruin Danny's reputation... But he wasn't going to say anything about that to Ghost Writer's face. The guy was mental.)

"And does this task have a part a, b, and c, too?" asked Danny. Jazz nudged him. He elbowed her back. After all the stuff they'd gone through this week, he thought he was allowed to be a little snarky.

"I want you to read this--" Ghost Writer waggled the book up and down, "--out loud."

Danny sighed. "It's full of insults, isn't it?" he asked. "Or it's the Christmas poem." He wasn't sure which one would be worse.

"Read it out loud," suggested Ghost Writer. "Find out."

"I could read it," said Jazz.

"I want him to read it," said Ghost Writer.

Danny rolled his eyes and snatched the book. He looked over the outside, curiously. It was honestly a bit too nice to be full of insults, which lead credence to the Christmas poem theory. He flipped it over to the back. That cover had a different pattern. Something scaly and pitted, almost demonic.

"You know," said Sam, in the sugar-sweet tone she usually saved for when her parents were being truly impossible, "if that book is cursed after all the crap you've just put us through, I'm going to shove it down your throat. And then some."

Ghost Writer smiled with sharp teeth. "I'd like to see you try."

Sam fingered the button on her custom-built SAMmunition Thrower (Danny disavowed all responsibility for naming the thing... publicly, that is). "So would I."

Ghost Writer, apparently sensing Sam's shark-like appetite for blood, raised his hands. "So long as he's as noble as you all seem to think he is, nothing bad will happen to him."

"Wow," said Danny, "and if I'm not that noble?"

"Then I wouldn't want you in my library. Come now, I thought you were serious about this. Don't beg off like Randy always does."

Danny had no idea who Randy was, but he also didn't want this... conversation... to drag on any more than it already had. He opened the book. Jazz caught his wrist.

"Maybe you shouldn't," she said.

"You say that now?" asked Danny, aggrieved. "I had to fight giant bookworms. And that owl."

"That bastard never returns anything on time," said Ghost Writer.

"Then kick him out," said Danny.

"And disrupt the inter-library loan system? I think not." Ghost Writer sniffed. "If you aren't going to read, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Danny resisted the urge to roll his eyes again - if you did it too often, people stopped taking you seriously - and looked down at the book. He squinted at the thick, wiggly, black characters.

"What is this, black speech? Something lifted from Cthulhu?"

"It's Kehnngh," said Ghost Writer, smugly. "It's a very old, very tradition type of Ghost Speech."

"Whatever," said Danny. "I'm more likely to die choking on this than whatever curse you're about to backstab us with, so whatever."

Ghost Writer made an offended sound. "I would never."

"If you know what's good for you," agreed Sam.

Danny made one last face at the book, then started sounding out syllables. "Nelghrù ro-- rlo? Nî dak gegri ghakhumâ kîsh sti chthe ngngîgn... Ew, I don't think throats are designed for that. Se famî lú ghu dizg..." He stumbled over the first sentence, then licked his lips. He'd changed his mind. Ghost Writer was having him read this because it was so far off anything humans spoke that it hurt. "Nelghrù nghftomerra... Yikes. Mglwno hâta nî... Ugh I have to say it again. Nghftomerra nû skog..."

He went on, swallowing back discomfort. This really wasn't a pleasant language to read. "Kal hûh mglwno wgatu phlu ka du hagthu..." He stopped to cough into his elbow. "Kal nghftomerra mglwno lgizgu..." He coughed again. It was like he'd inhaled something. A hair, maybe. "Lgizgu fu chthoh ghishù wgatu--"

This time, he couldn't hold back the coughing fit, which was stupid and embarrassing since in ghost form he didn't really breathe as much as--

Something black splattered the pages of the book. Something black and... What was that bitter wetness on his lips? Not blood. He knew the taste of blood. He knew the taste of ectoplasm, too, and that was far sweeter. He coughed again, the feeling of something in his throat unbearable, and this time the cough ended in a gag as liquid poured from his mouth and nose. He gagged again and dropped to his knees.

Ink splattered the floor and the pages of the book where it had fallen.

Jazz dropped down at Danny's side, her hands on his shoulders, as Sam fired at Ghost Writer, the high-speed ectoplasm ampoules bursting on the wall as he disappeared somewhere.

"Danny," she said, "Danny, can you breathe? Breathe with me."

Danny, incidentally, couldn't. There was something stuck in his throat, tickling like a feather. Like a lot of feathers. Ink dripped off his outstretched tongue.

"What did you do?" demanded Sam as Ghost Writer ducked behind a shelf.

Ghost Writer laughed. "Whatever you meant to do with my library, this will reveal your intentions!"

"Like running around and doing your errands all week didn't?"

"I won't trust anyone who destroys books!"

Oh, yeah, and this didn't count as destroying a book, did it? Even though the thing was now completely soaked in ink.

Danny heaved and something wriggling started to force itself up his throat. His whole body shuddered as more ink spilled into his mouth, this time accompanied by something that felt like masses of frayed wet string.

Or, maybe, fur, from how the thing was moving.

This was the moment Jazz decided to attempt the Heimlich maneuver. It was such a mundane solution that Danny was shocked when it worked, a wad of wet black feathers shooting out from his mouth.

"Feathers!" said Ghost Writer, sounding disappointed.

They quivered, and Danny reached out to pick up the bird and set it on its feet, brushing off the worst of the ink as he did. His hand made a messy print when it fell back to the floor.

"A bird?" This time, the Ghost Writer sounded downright exasperated. "Why is it a bird?"

"Better a birdie than a hole in one, which is what you're going to be," said Sam, venomously.

"I think," said Danny, faintly, "I know why a raven is like a writing desk."

"What?" asked Jazz, apparently baffled by the non-sequitur. Well, Danny was baffled, too.

The bird hopped sideways and ruffled its feathers, shedding black droplets.

"They can both be covered in ink."

"It's a pun?" said Ghost Writer, apparently offended by the whole concept.

"That's more of a riddle," said Danny. "Calling him Edgar Allen Crow would be a pun."

The crow - or was it a raven? - cackled madly.

There was a long moment of silence from Ghost Writer. "Fine," he said, still safely behind a bookshelf. "You can look at my books, but you can't check anything out."

Danny raised his head to stare incredulously at Ghost Writer. Edgar Allen Crow did the same.

"... Let's go home," said Jazz.

I want to do some soft body horror.

[child0feden]

okay i just had a very bizarre idea and i do not know how to word it so sorry if this sounds like unintelligible nonsense but older! bård somehow travelling back in time with younger! reader out of nowhere? like one day after spending the night at your apartment, he wakes up beside you in bed and for the most part everything seems normal because you are asleep next to him and look the same… his tired brain fails to take note of the multiple small differences in your bedroom and the way that you look just a couple of years younger than when he saw you awake last night…

it is only when he looks down and sees his arms that a strange cold feeling rushes over him… his arms, which were built and covered in tattoos just last night, are bare and pale and small… and he freaks the hell out, mumbling out a deep and beyond confused sounding “ what the fuck? ” before he throws the blankets over him and stumbles over to your bathroom, lifting his head to meet his own eyes as he sees his face being reflected back to him… whilst his face is being reflected back to him, it is his face from just over thirty years ago! long brown hair, big chocolate eyes, sad excuse for facial hair and all… that is when his face goes pale as a ghost and he cannot even attempt to stop himself from yelling as a loud “ what the fuck! ” tears out of his mouth…

obviously, the loud yell wakes you up and you come rushing into the bathroom with a look of concern all over your tired face as your eyes land on him but what confuses him even more is how unbothered you look when you see him… he expected you to be just as baffled and just as freaked out as him when you rushed through the open bathroom door and saw his eighteen year old self standing there, his past self that you had only ever seen pictures of when he let you look through his old pictures from the early 90s but instead, you look at him as if nothing at all is out of place… and as his eyes stare back at you, he realises that you look different too! though it is much less noticeable than his own sudden appearance change because you just look a little bit younger than you already were! i mean, you were twenty five last night but now, he would take a guess and say that you were eighteen now too…

so like, somehow, all of those dreams he had about what his life would have been like if you had existed when he was a teenager? what his life would have been like if the two of you had met and fell in love way back when? somehow, those dreams had come true in such a strange way… because you seem to have no idea of anything at all, you seem to have no idea that you were twenty five and living in the year 2025 just last night… but he remembers quite literally everything! he is kind of still himself from 2025 but thrown back into his old self and pushed back into those past years… and you are still you but you have no idea who you were in the future and just…

like bård would have to act so normal despite knowing everything that everyone else does not… hell, he finds himself actually having to get used to not having a mobile phone anymore whilst you act like someone who does not think a touch screen will ever be possible… despite the fact that you were always more into tech than he was before whatever made all of this happen happened… bård fails to resist pulling øystein into a tight hug when he sees him for the first time since he woke up, just standing there in helvete with a coca cola in hand as he always did… bård has to stop himself from mumbling “ what the fuck ” every single time he sees you casually chatting with øystein and vegard, every time he sees you somehow know how the hell a vhs works… and he accidentally makes himself seem weird when he asks you what year you were born in, having to shut himself up from mumbling yet another baffled “ what the fuck ” when you look at him funny before telling him that you were born the same year he was, raising your eyebrow at him and asking if he had been out drinking again and why he was asking you such a random question...

it is basically a cliche time travel idea but instead of the reader going back in time, it happens to both of you in a very weird way! and whilst bård still remembers everything from the future he was just in, you do not have any idea, you have no idea that you were not even born until the year 2000… you have no idea that in the real timeline, per say, you never knew his old friends nor did you even exist in the early 90s…

this sounds like a big mess and i am trying to explain it! hopefully some of you understand what i am saying here? please? lol T_T

i thought this was kind of a neat idea but i do not know </3

[greentrickster]

Important Message To Artists Emotionally and/or Mentally Suffering due to the Current State of the Art Industry and Generative AI

Everyone telling you that you have missed out, are nonessential, that you shouldn't be starting now, that you're a bad person for feeling upset by this? They are straight-up lying to your face. Art is not an option, or an opinion, or a phase, or, least of all, a dying medium. Art is a necessity, a drive, a passion. We have been creating art since before we were us. Back when all there was available were dirty caves and weird-coloured mud, the harshest living conditions imaginable, and mega-fauna.

Yet still, there were artists.

Back then, before my kind were born, those of pen and ink and typewriters, there were artists. People who looked at the world around them, at the world behind their eyes, and joined the two together through funny coloured mud on a cave wall. They built scaffolding to reach high enough. They used the natural curve of the stone to add movement and shape to their lines. They traced tens upon hundreds of hands upon stone in such a powerful sign of existence that we still look upon it today with awe, with curiosity, with the need to study and learn and marvel.

Tens of thousands of years ago, your kind was born, and your line has held true ever since. Tens of thousands of years, there have been artists, because for tens of thousands of years there have always been those that need to create, and they have made it happen. Because for tens of thousands of years, we have felt, felt and watched and dreamed so strongly that the only way to survive was to let it loose through our fingertips and into the world. And in doing so they allowed the world behind and before their eyelids to be seen, allowed others to see it and realize that they are also seen, because they are not alone.

Because there is at least one other who sees and feels as they do, and thus their place in the world has become that much realer, that much more valued, because they know they are not alone.

Because they are not alone.

Because you are not alone.

Because you did not start at the worst time. There is no worst time to start, because you will always be needed, always be necessary, always be so very dangerous to those in power because those who oppress do not destroy your work or your kindred because you are powerless, because you are worthless. They want you to believe that, they so desperately want you to believe that, because if you do not believe yourself worthless and powerless and terrible, then you might realize the true fragility of their power, that your work has them so afraid.

For if you are weak, why do they fight so strongly against you?

If your protests are unreasonable, why do they shout so loudly to drown them out?

If you are easily replaceable, why do they struggle so hard to do just that?

If what you do is without value, why do they seek to replace you at all?

How feeble, how tragic, such people must be, that they can only scream to the wind of your uselessness, of your replacability. That they fear so greatly, they would rather not try at all than place a single pen to paper in an attempt that might fail.

Tens of thousands of years.

Tens of thousands of years, your kind has walked this earth, have left your marks, have stolen our breath. And now, in this world as we live in it, your kind has found community as never before, support and belief in your own value as never before, and, by the gods above, those that would silence you, lessen you, steal your courage and still your hands, they are right to fear. Because tens of thousands of years.

Tens

Of thousands

Of years.

Such legacy.

Such momentum.

How can it be stopped?

So they must silence you, don't you see?

They must steal your will, your worth, they must! For, if they don't, tens of thousands of years.

Tens of thousands of years.

Such legacy.

Such momentum.

If they do not force you to stop yourselves, then how can they hope

To be anything other

Than

Crushed?

So go.

Look at the photos.

See the walls of stone marked with colourful mud. With charcoal from the hearth fire.

Look at it.

Look.

They're looking back at you.

Those who came before you.

The first of your kind.

And they are not afraid for you. As you need not be afraid for yourself.

Because they know

As those that would silence you also know

That the hands that painted the caverns

Took down

Mammoths

And also

Tyrants.

Tens of thousands of years.

Tens of thousands of your kind who have come before.

Tens of thousands of years and of your kind who will come after you.

For in all that time, all that history, all that has come before, there is not a one who has survived its flow better or in ways that mattered quite so much as

Artists.

You are powerful.

You are deserving.

And you will always be necessary.

I promise.

[comflexxed]

june’s mind was already moving, trying to piece together the best course of action before hans had even finished speaking. the idea of taking the children with them — it made sense in some ways. if arthur and julia were with them, no one could take them while their backs were turned. they would be able to keep an eye on them, to ensure no stranger with a false smile and empty promises had the chance to steal them away. it also meant exposing them to whatever awaited them in town.

he exhaled slowly, his gaze steady on hans’ as he considered their options. “if we take them, we risk letting them see something they shouldn’t,” he said finally, his voice careful, measured. “if someone is asking about us, if someone recognizes them—” he stopped himself, jaw tightening. “i don’t want them to be scared. i don’t want them to see us scared.”

and that was the heart of it, wasn’t it? the moment arthur and julia saw fear in their fathers’ eyes, they would know something was wrong. arthur was already watching them too closely, already picking up on the way they whispered after bedtime, the way hans had held onto him like he was afraid to let go. julia might not understand the details, but she would feel the tension, absorb it like a sponge. but he knew hans was right, too. leaving them behind carried just as many risks.

june ran a hand down his face, forcing himself to think. “we could take them,” he said, the words slow, deliberate. “but we’d need to make it feel normal. no hesitation. no fear. we go about our day as if nothing has changed. if we start acting different, arthur will know. he’ll start asking questions.” he didn’t want to lie to his son. but he also didn’t want to burden him with the weight of something he didn’t deserve to carry.

his fingers tightened around hans’, grounding himself in the warmth of his husband’s touch. “if anything seems wrong, if i even think we’re being watched, we leave immediately. we don’t wait around for answers. we don’t take risks.” his eyes were hard now, his expression set. the palace had resources. the palace had reach. and june knew firsthand how easy it was to disappear when someone with power wanted you gone.

he hated this — hated that they were even having this conversation. this was supposed to be their safe place, the home they had built with their own hands. he had spent years making sure no ghosts from his past could find them, yet somehow, they had. it had been so long since he felt truly hunted. he thought those days were behind him. and maybe that had been his mistake.

his hand slid up to cradle hans’ face, his thumb brushing just beneath his eye where unshed tears threatened to spill. “i need you to trust me,” he said, his voice softer now. “no matter what happens, we keep our family together. no one is taking them from us. no one is taking you from me.”

and if they tried? june would remind them exactly why he had never been an easy man to chase.

hans always thought the one constant thing about the family he was born into was their insistence on upholding tradition. every day was carefully planned, each hour accounted for, each person busy and knowing where they were needed at any given moment. it had been ingrained in hans, until he slowly broke away from it to be with june—and eventually left all of it behind to start his own family. 

it was this fact that made him even more confused as to why their family would look for them now. none of this was aligned with the tradition they were ever so careful to uphold. it made hans wonder if they wanted to bring them back to the palace—and then what? he slowly relented to june’s hands prying his own away from his face, looking at his husband with a pair of teary-eyed orbs. 

june’s presence quelled some of the turmoil inside hans, but it was not enough. it was not enough when the safety of their children was in question. “who would we reach out to?” hans asked, his voice coming out weak and strained. "the neighbors we've gotten to know would all be defenseless against trained guards." especially ones with a mission to carry out. 

the only person hans trusted with the safety of their children was here in front of him, worrying with him. 

he knew june would say what he did when hans suggested the idea of going to town, knew he would not allow hans to be on his own. he had been the protector of this family for far too long, and a protector of hans even before they became lovers. he knew hans’ weaknesses, probably more than hans would admit himself. “i don’t know if i can trust anyone else with our children, june,” he said truthfully. their neighbors were kind, sure, but the palace had resources that could be mobilized to use force or any kind of bribery to get what they want. 

and hans would not be able to forgive anyone who’d give up their children for some petty reward. 

“should we take them with us?” he asked, eyes scanning june’s for any clue on what they should do. “it would be just like how we usually do it. they wouldn’t find it odd. and i’ll feel safer if they were with us.” 

[cent-scratchnsniff]

here together

[cuttledreams-bugs]

me trying to hype myself up to posting online again despite The Horror

[khioneee]

caleb won't ever let you go.

‘here’s what you don’t understand,’ caleb said, his voice low and steady as he stepped closer. his gaze bore into yours, unflinching, filled with an intensity that made your heart stutter. ‘i would live a thousand lives just to get to you.’

caleb’s hand came up, and he rested it against one of your cheeks, his thumb catching your lip. you swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat, but he wasn’t done.

‘i would die time and time again, dig out my own grave if it means i can come home to you,’ he said, his voice trembling slightly with the weight of his confession.

you just witnessed your heartbreaker break into a thousand pieces, the vulnerable side of him slowly unmasked, and you saw it. he looked so, so tired. he was all pale skin contrasted with harsh colours; his eyes were bruised violet underneath, his lips were chapped to a raw red, and his usual glowing irises were a dull, cold black.

his lips were so close to yours now that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. you wanted to push him away, wanted to move out of his grasp, but you weren’t strong enough for any of it.

‘if i can’t have you in this universe,’ he murmured, his voice barely audible, ‘i’ll make sure i’ll be there in the next.’

it felt like surrender to close your eyes, to let caleb touch his lips where he wanted, to let his mouth ghost your cheek, but you were tired of the battle. he must have felt the resistance give away, because he cupped his hand purposefully around your jaw and tipped your mouth up with a finger on your chin.

he paused, his breath hitching, before backing away just enough to meet your eyes fully. his gaze softened but remained resolute, holding a depth that made you shiver.

‘you belong with me,’ he said firmly.

your unsteady heart was about to detonate. you opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat as he added, softer now, gentler, as if he were speaking a truth only he could see.

‘you just can’t see it… yet.’

his words lingered, weaving into the air around you like a thread that couldn’t be broken. you wanted to fight it, wanted to deny him, but the conviction in his voice planted a seed of doubt in the walls you’d built to keep him out. and that terrified you more than anything.

caleb blinked at you. the storm had cleared in his eyes. he almost looked surprised to see you standing there. he put his cap on, his movements slow, deliberate, as if bracing himself to leave.

‘you’re not the same person i knew,’ you said suddenly, your voice barely above a whisper. the words spilled out before you could stop them, heavy and trembling with unspoken pain.

caleb met your torn stare as you observed him closely, trying to detect what it was that was currently going through his mind.

‘not the same,’ he repeated, shaking his head with a quiet, bitter laugh. he looked at you then, his eyes heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. ‘i still love you, don’t i?’

the words hung in the air, raw and piercing, cutting through whatever resolve you thought you had left. he turned slightly, as if to leave, but hesitated, his shoulders stiff, waiting for a response you weren’t sure you could give.

but he stepped away, disheveled and breathing hard, staring harshly at you. the look in his eyes was terrible. terrifying. then, as if the silence itself pushed him to speak again, his voice low but steady.

‘i’m the same person,’ he said, his gaze locking onto yours. ‘i’m just not willing to let you go this time.’