#I’m going to be thinking about this for a while

[whatsverstappeningnow]

how f1 drivers react

when they notice you haven't been eating enough (requested)

drivers mentioned: MV33, LN4, OP81, AA23, CS55, CL16, LH44, GR63

-> tw: obviously references to ED behaviours and not eating, reader discretion is advised if this is a trigger for you!

max verstappen

You thought you were being careful. Smiling while he cooked. Saying you were full from lunch and moving the food around your plate just enough to make it seem like you’d eaten more than you had. You knew it was wrong, you should say something, but couldn't find the words.

You thought you were getting away with it.

Then one night, after a particularly long, stressful day, while the two of are getting ready for bed, Max quietly hands you one of his redbull hoodies. It feels like a peace offering. He's silent for a moment, like he too is struggling to the the right words.

“You’ve lost weight.”

You freeze with your arms halfway in the sleeves, eyes wide and aimed at the ground. “What?”

His tone is neutral, forcibly so, but his eyes aren’t. They’re serious. Studying your reaction.

“I can feel it when I hug you,” he says, blunt and truthful. “You’re smaller. You're tired all the time. You barely touched dinner. Not the for the first time, either”

You try to deflect. “I’m fine. It’s just stress...work’s been a lot—”

“I’m not judging,” he interrupts softly, hands on his hips. “But don’t lie to me. Not about this, schatje.”

You stare at the floor, guilt swirling and pooling in your stomach. His hands find your waist, thumbs brushing over your hips as if to emphasize what he already noticed. He leans in just enough that his forehead touches yours, leaning against eachother softly.

“I know you think it’s not a big deal. But it is to me,” he murmurs. “I don’t care if it’s small meals, snacks, whatever... but you need somehting. I need to know you’re okay.”

Then, after a long pause, “Please don’t shut me out. Your hurting the woman I care about, I can't let you do that.”

He doesn’t push after that. Just holds you tighter that night. Makes breakfast the next morning and doesn’t say a word when you take the plate. Just smiles a little when you pick up the fork.

lando norris

You’re lying on your stomach across your bed, scrolling through your phone aimlessly, when Lando flops down beside you with a sigh. You laugh at his sudden, unexpected appearance, but it dies out when he you don't hear him join in.

“I’m gonna say something, and you’re not allowed to get weird about it.”

You glance over, up your phone down, suspicious, but trying to lighten the tone. The sudden seriousness leaves you uncomfortable. "Hm, ominous."

He gives you a look, one that says he's not joking for once.

“You haven’t really eaten today. Or much yesterday. And I don’t think that’s nothing.”

You open your mouth to deflect, but Lando cuts in, gentler now.

“I’m not mad. I just… I want you to know that I notice these things. I don't want you to hide this stuff. I'm a... a bit hurt that you thought you had to.”

"I didn't mean to it's just. It's hard to talk about this stuff," you try to explain.

"I know that. Of course, I know that. But we spend hours talking about how I'm going, where my head is at, and that's not a one way street, love."

He nudges your shoulder lightly when you you can't find the words to say. “Let me take care of you, yeah? We’ll order something...anything you want! You don’t even have to leave the bed.”

And when you nod, he grins and kisses your cheek like it’s no big deal...like loving you includes this, too.

oscar piastri

Oscar notices something's off before you say even say anything.

You're out running errands together and get dizzy out of nowhere in the middle of the store. You hand grips his as you try and blink away the blurry spots. He's quick to put a hand on your back to help you stay up right, and even quicker to ask whats wrong.

You try to brush it off , I probably just need water or something, but he doesn’t buy it. The crease between his eyebrows deepens.

“You’ve been lightheaded more than once this week.”

You blink at him, surprised, heart suddenly beating faster than before. “No, I haven't.”

But he nods like you've said the opposite. Eyes searching yours for... something.

“I’ve also noticed you keep skipping breakfast a lot. And lunch, probably, if I'm not home with you. And you’re ‘just tired’ every night.”

Oscar isn’t dramatic about it. He just says it plainly, as truth, fact. But that just makes it harder to brush off.

“I’m worried,” he admits, voice quieter, hand holding yours tightly. “You don’t have to explain it all right now. But I need to know you’re okay... I need to know if you're not.”

You murmur that you're not sure what's going on, and it's the truth. Oscar doesn’t press.

“Let’s get head home. Have something easy. And if you don’t want to talk, we can just sit.”

"I'm sorry," you whisper to him, unsure of what to say.

"Please don't apologise. I love you. I want you to be well."

carlos sainz

You’re on your apartment balcony together, lounging around after a long morning sleep in. Carlos offers to make you breakfast, but you tell him not to bother. You’re not hungry.

He pauses mid-step, one foot inside, one still on the balcony. Looks at you, slightly offended on your behalf.

“No desayuno? Why not?”

You shrug, trying to keep your tone light. “I don’t know. I just… don’t feel like eating, I guess.”

Carlos doesn’t say anything at first. He just watches you. But the crease between his brows deepens, and then he's moving toward you, slowly, like he’s approaching something fragile. Maybe he is.

“You’ve skipped too many meals this week, mi vida. I’m not blind.”

His voice is quiet but firm, that kind of gentle stubbornness you’ve learned not to argue with. The kind that comes from a place of love, not discipline. You look down, suddenly finding it too hard to look Carlos in the eyes, but he doesn’t let the moment slip by so easily.

He finally steps right behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist lightly, and resting his chin on your shoulder. His voice is softer now, words whispered right into your ear like a sweet secret for just the two of you.

“I don’t need you to be perfect. I need you to take care of yourself.”

His fingers rub little circles into your sides, grounding and steady.

And before you can come up with a deflection, he’s pulling away just enough to kiss the side of your temple and mutter, “I’ll make something light. You don’t have to finish it. Just try.”

It’s not about food. Not really. It’s about how he wants you well. Wants you cared for. It's about showing you you are loved, and deserve to be taken care of.

alex albon

You're facetiming while he’s away, talking about qualifying, how the pets are doing, your plans for tomorrow, what you did earlier that day, when you offhandedly say, “I had a granola bar today, that counts, right?”

He laughs at first, caught up in your cute rambling. Then stops suddenly, all the humour draining from his face in a milisecond.

“Wait, that was all you had? Actually?”

You realize too late how that sounds. You can't take the words back now, and you can't find it in you to play it off as a complete joke. Part of you wants him to know.

Alex's expression shifts immediately. “Babe… You need to eat. No excuses.”

He leans in closer to the screen, voice suddenly quieter.

“Are you alright? Seriously.”

You start to downplay it, words coming out quickly to cover yourself, you weren't that hungry today, you were busy, you would eat later to make up for it, but he shakes his head gently at each excuse.

“Hey, hey. You don’t need to explain if you’re not ready. I’ve been there, I get it. But I wish you’d told me. I would’ve sent you like… twenty reminders. Or ubereats meals.”

Despite the worry, he smiles at you, soft and sweet, with the kind of look he always has before he leans in to kiss you.

“Okay. We’re ordering food together, right now. Virtual dinner date? I'll get room servivce, order something to the house for you. Yeah?”

You laugh, tear up a little, and agree. He smiles bright at your agreeance, beaming with pride.

charles leclerc

You're halfway through slicing vegetables for dinner when you say it. You'd been tossing up the right words to say all day. Deflecting is an art.

“I’m not really hungry tonight, but you go ahead.”

Charles doesn’t respond right away. Just finishes stirring the pan in front of him, sets the spoon down carefully, and, without another word, switches the stove completely off.

You glance up, confused and stunned. “What are you doing? That's not done yet.”

He simply shrugs. “If you’re not eating, then we’re not cooking.”

There’s no edge in his tone. No accusation. Just quiet finality, as if he had anticipated you not wanting to eat.

You blink, confused. “Charles, that’s ridiculous. You shouldn’t skip dinner just because—”

“Because you are?” he says gently, stepping away from the stove and closer to you. “No, I shouldn’t. But I’m not going to sit here and act like I haven’t noticed what you're doing”

He closes the space between you, wiping his hands on a dish towel before setting it aside.

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad, chéri,” he says quietly, searching your expression for the truth of the situation, but coming up empty. “I just want you to take care of yourself. And if I can help, even just a little, I will. If this is what it takes for you to know it is unhealthy, then I will do it.”

Charles reaches out and pulls you gently into his embrace. One hand on your back, the other smoothing your hair behind your ear. When he speaks again, his voice is soft against your skin. “Even if it’s just toast and juice. Even if it’s small. I’ll eat with you.”

You nod slowly, not because you’re convinced you can finish a whole meal, but because the idea of sitting across from him, even with something simple, suddenly feels like something you can do. Something you want to try. For him.

So he kisses your temple, rubs his hand down your back once again, and then says, “I’ll make tea. You pick the bread. Oui?”

lewis hamilton

You’re pacing around, trying to get stuff done, arms filled with knick-knacks you should have put away ages ago, when Lewis gently intercepts you. Hands on your upper arms, holding you still.

“You’ve been running nonstop all day, love. Did you eat yet?”

You wave him off. “I haven’t had time.”

That makes him stop cold. He exhales, long and hard, then walks over and takes your hands in his.

“That’s not okay.”

You go to respond, but Lewis lifts a hand. Gently, calmly stopping you.

“I’m not upset. But I also… don’t think this is the first time you’ve let yourself forget about food. And it’s scaring me a bit.”

“It’s not like that… I promise,” you reply in a hushed tone.

His thumb traces small circles over your knuckles, constant and soft.

“Ok, and I trust you to know if it was like that you could tell me. But I’ve seen what burnout looks like. What forgetting to take care of yourself does. I won’t stand by and watch it happen to you too. I love you too much to watch you crash and burn.”

"Lewis—"

He takes all the clothes and cups from your arms and places them on the table, leaving your hands empty and your heart beating fast.

He leans in and kisses your forehead, hushing you. “Let’s start small. Something warm. Something easy. Please? Gotta make sure my girl is taken care of.”

He doesn’t ask for more. Just reminds you, with every soft word and touch, that you’re worth taking care of, even on the days when you forget how.

george russell

You're lying in bed together when George brings it up for the first time.

"Love, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me. Please?"

When you turn to look at him, his face is dead serious, his undereye bags heavy and dark like something’s been worried about something for a while.

"You haven’t been eating enough." He says it quietly, thumb brushing just beneath your cheekbone like he’s afraid he’s already said too much.

"That’s not a question," you reply, a little too fast. A little too defensive.

George doesn’t take the bait. He just watches you for a second, gaze steady but soft. There’s no judgment in it, only worry.

“I know,” he says. “But I’ve been holding it in, waiting for you to come to me, waiting for the right time, and... I guess there isn’t one, is there?”

You sigh, low and long from the weight of everything you've been feeling. He shifts closer, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I’m not angry. I don't want you to think that. I just...noticed recently. And I didn’t want to corner you, or make you feel.. attacked, but I love you, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t see what’s happening.”

You rest your forehead against his chest, and his hand runs gently up and down your back.

“You don’t have to explain anything right now,” he murmurs. “Just let me help. We can start slow. A good breakfast tomorrow. I’ll make tea. We can talk about it, if you'd like. One thing at a time. Yeah?”

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, none of that. This isn't something you need to apologise for. I got you. We got this."

You nod against him, curling tighter into his soft hold. George presses a soft kiss to the top of your head like a promise. One that says: you’re not doing this alone.

lowkey inspired by both the anon request and the quote "i love you, i want us both to eat well" <3

[aryaryxoxo]

Thinking about… #katsuki bakugou x neighbor!reader

Bakugou stood stiffly by the door, arms crossed, watching in barely contained irritation as his so-called "friends" made themselves at home in his room.

“Man, I didn’t know your room was this big!” Kirishima exclaimed, lifting one of the dumbbells near the corner with a whistle. “You’ve got your own mini gym in here!”

“Why are you all here?” Bakugou asked, voice flat and clearly unimpressed.

“Hanging out,” Kaminari replied casually, flopping onto his bed like it was his own.

“Yeah, and your mom invited us in,” Sero added with a grin, leaning against the wall. “Said we could wait here while you finished showering.”

“Thought you might want some company,” Kaminari chimed in, already halfway through a bag of chips he found on Bakugou’s desk.

Bakugou’s eye twitched. He didn’t remember asking for company. Or anyone touching his dumbbells.

“Whatever,” Bakugou muttered, tossing a towel over his shoulder. “Just don’t make a mess.”

Time passed, and somehow, he forgot all about his friends barging into his house—mostly because he was too busy kicking Kirishima and Kaminari’s asses in Mario Kart.

“Take that, shitty hair!” he barked, smirking as Kirishima’s kart spun off the track.

“Bro, come on!” Kirishima groaned.

“Unfair!” Kaminari yelled, already halfway out of his seat in frustration.

Just as Bakugou was about to fire off another smug comment, his bedroom door creaked open.

They all turned.

“Suki, I finished—oh.”

You stood in the doorway, clutching a stack of romance manga to your chest. Your eyes widened when you spotted the group sprawled across the room.

“I didn’t know you had company,” you said quickly, already stepping back. “I’ll go—”

“Wait—” Bakugou, who had been sitting on the floor just seconds ago, suddenly scrambled to his feet and rushed toward you. “The new volume just came in yesterday. You can read it first.”

What happened next left the three boys speechless.

Bakugou smiled.

A real, honest-to-god smile as he gently took the stack of manga from your arms, pulled out the newest volume, and handed it to you like it was something precious.

“Come over tomorrow,” he said, almost shyly. “I’ll make popcorn.”

Kirishima’s jaw dropped. Kaminari choked on his soda. Sero looked like he’d just witnessed a supernatural event.

“You good, bro?” Kirishima whispered.

“No,” Sero replied, eyes still wide. “No, I’m not. Who the hell is that, and what did she do to Bakugou?”

(Meanwhile, Bakugou and the mystery girl are talking about their plans for tomorrow, Bakugou’s hands seemingly place gentle behind her back.)

[zenithsturniolo]

⇢ 𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐘, 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐄

⚸ audio dacryphilia, pussy slapping, praise, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms

you’re half on his lap, half draped sideways across the couch, legs tangled up with his, one of his hands resting on your bare thigh. it’s late. the tv’s on but you’re not watching. you’re distracted by chris. he’s got that look again.

his fingers trail higher, slow. knuckles brushing under your shorts, just barely. not doing anything yet, just there, making you squirm, like he’s daring you to call him out.

“you’re quiet,” chris murmurs, barely glancing at you. “that little attitude finally wear off?”

you roll your eyes, shifting your leg, trying to ignore the way your whole body reacts to the way he touches you without really touching you. “you’re annoying.”

he grins, not even pretending to be offended. “and you’re soaked.”

you blink. “i’m not.”

he just turns his head, meets your eyes like he knows something you don’t. “bet if i slid my fingers in right now, they’d go in easy.”

your breath stutters. yeah. okay.

you shoot him a glare, weak and shaky. he just raises his eyebrows, leans in close enough that his mouth brushes the shell of your ear.

“you want me to prove it?”

you don’t answer, but your legs shift open a little on their own.

he chuckles under his breath, hand slipping higher. “yeah. that’s what i thought.”

next thing you know, he’s pulling your shorts down with one hand, not breaking eye contact. your panties go with them, and the second you’re exposed, he hums low like he expected this.

“fuckin’ knew it,” he says, thumb dragging along your inner thigh. “you’re dripping. from what, just me talkin’ to you?”

you cover your face with your hands. “shut up.”

he grabs your wrists, gently pulls your hands away. “nah. you wanna act like that, you gotta watch what i do to you.”

then he’s moving, sinking to his knees on the floor in front of you, nudging your legs up over his shoulders, mouth already brushing between your thighs like it’s instinct.

he doesn’t start soft. chris licks you like he’s been thinking about it all day— long, wet strokes of his tongue, no teasing. moaning against your soaking pussy like he can’t help it. one hand pressing your hips down, the other sliding between your legs like he already knows where you need it.

“so fucking warm,” he mutters, licking messily at your clit. “so wet for me already. you get like this every time i talk shit?”

you try to answer, but he slips two fingers inside you and your mind goes blank. your back arches, a whimper slipping out. his mouth never stops, tongue flicking fast, lips sucking, eyes flicking up every few seconds to watch you fall apart.

“that’s it,” he breathes. “good girl. let me see it.”

you can feel how wet you are—hear it, every time his fingers fuck into you, your body sucking him in so easily. he starts curling them, brushing that spot that makes your thighs shake, and you choke on a moan.

“oh my god— chris—”

he grins, messy and smug. “there she is.”

he slaps your pussy, quick and sharp, and you gasp, hips jerking.

“too much?”

you shake your head so fast it’s barely coherent.

“didn’t think so.”

he does it again— slap, then soothe, tongue flicking soft right after like a reward. your legs are already starting to shake and he’s not even close to done.

“you close?” he asks, licking you slow now, dragging his tongue flat across your clit. “yeah, you are. feel it.”

you nod, breathless. too gone to form words. you feel the heat building in your gut, that ache, that pressure.

he groans, eyes locked on your face. “then look at me when you cum. c’mon. look at me.”

you do, barely. and then you’re unraveling. your body jerks, thighs shaking, moans breaking and raw as you come on his tongue. and he just moans with you, doesn’t stop, keeps his fingers moving inside you while he licks you through it.

but it’s too much. you flinch, trying to close your legs, and he grabs your hips, pulls you back down.

“nah, baby. keep those pretty legs open.”

“chris—” your voice cracks.

“shhh. i got you. you can give me another. be good for me, yeah?”

you nod through the tears already stinging your eyes, chest heaving.

and he fucking smiles.

he slides his fingers out, just to slap your pussy again, wet and loud, and your whole body jolts.

“fuck, look at you,” he whispers, voice ragged now. “shaking already. crying, baby? you crying for me?”

you try to cover your face again but he grabs your hands and pins them to your stomach, his mouth back on your clit, tongue soft and slow now, cruel.

“don’t hide. i wanna see.”

he eats you out like he means it, like he’s addicted to the way you taste, the way you squirm, the way you sob for him. your thighs tremble, breath hitching, tears slipping down your cheeks now as he pushes you higher and higher all over again.

and when you come the second time, loud, messy, and too damn much, he laughs into your cunt like he’s proud.

“atta girl,” he groans. “fuckin’ wrecked and still so goddamn pretty.”

you’re twitching, legs kicking, trying to pull away now. and he finally, finally gives you a break, dragging his mouth off you with a loud, obscene kiss, face shiny, lips swollen.

he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning. “you good?”

you blink up at him, dazed, eyes glassy. he chuckles, crawls back up onto the couch and pulls you into his lap like nothing happened, arms wrapping around your body as your breathing slows.

“you’re so fuckin’ cute when you cry,” he whispers, kissing your temple. “next time i’ll make you cum three times.”

a/n:

find my masterlist here

🏷: @thicknick19 @sturnslutz @viviansturns @cayleeuhithinknott @briizysturn @devotedlyteenagemusic @drewswife @sturnsblogs @auttysturnz @mattspillowprincess @adoremattsturns @dolliraez @sturniolo1trips @sturns-mermaid @sophsturns @444sturns @adorechris @rriverscuomo @megameatymatt @izzylovesmatt @y2kstarr @owensbabygirl @courta13 @ribbonlovergirl @passionfruitchris @sophand4n4 @slvtf0rchr1s @matts-wife @slutformatt17 @mattsplaything @slut4chrisloads @ariheartsmatt @surprisecurlyfriess @bernardsbendystraws @lezleeferguson-120 @iconiccolo @chrismoans

© zenithsturniolo

[mixingandmelting]

Cute Aggression

Summary: when he's jealous but gets the cute aggression because you're suddenly being cute

Dick:

He blankly stares at the wall across from him.

The plan was for him to full out sulk. Mope and stay grumpy in bed to make a point that your very attention-needy boyfriend was deprived of your attention because you were giving it to someone else. Typically, you would get exasperated, probe what’s wrong, and then he would have it his way in getting completely spoiled by you to make it up to him.

This time, though, you crawled under the blankets, poked your head from underneath and in front of his face, and pecked his cheek.

“…Are you still mad at me?” You shyly looked up at him with fusty cheeks. He simply blinks.

“So. Damn. Cute.” He grits out under his breath, ignoring your muffled outraged cries as he squeezes your blanket covered form. 

Just remembering what had happened and led to him rolling you up head to toe in the blanket makes him want to squish you for the rest of night. Yell to the world you’re the cutest being in the universe. 

“I can’t breathe , Dick!” Or that’s what he thinks you say when you start patting him on his chest (more like your feeble attempts to smack him if not for your arms restricted by fabric).. 

“No.” Throwing a leg over yours, he decides holding you like this will be how he gets back at you for making him jealous while making him have cute aggression. 

Jason:

There’s not a single drop of shame in him, waddling out the bar with you literally inside his jacket as he glared at anyone who gave you both an odd look.

You were his and he was yours. Nothing hard or complicated, right? Wrong. It seems like there are some people who can’t get a hint. And as much as he loves you, there are times you don’t realize you’re getting hit on. This time, right in front of him.

At first, he was outright brooding. Slouching in his seat next to you and close to shattering the glass in his hand with his grip. 

“Jason… You okay?” Head slightly tilted, eyes wide probably from worry and confusion about his sudden bad mood. Both of your hands on his arm and gently squeezing it.

It’s the alcohol talking when the urge to break a table or punch the wall next to him returns. You were so adorable. Absolutely adorable. 

There was nowhere to hide you in case someone decided to snatch you for your cuteness other than the space between the bar and his legs and he wasn’t about to have you sit on the floor. So in his jacket you go, doing the job of giving the sign you’re quite literally taken. 

“Jason, I’m too warm…” 

“Too bad.” He zips up his jacket. 

He’s not taking any chances of letting anyone else notice you’re too cute for your own good. 

Tim: 

Everyone says out of the two of you, you’re the clingy one. Not once suspecting it was him as he clings on you from behind like a koala.

Him being grouchy had nothing to do with the statement you made coming back from a gala. So what if he’s smaller than the average male? He’s always been a brains-over-brawn guy anyways. that’s why he wasn’t bothered by your passing comment about some tall guy’s height from the gala the two of you had attended whatsoever. 

It was also NOT the reason for his lips and cheeks to puff out as he cleared another level in his Freakazoid game on the couch, ignoring the shuffling next to him or acknowledging you sitting next to him. 

“Tim…? I love you…” A few minutes into the level you said that, Your voice soft and gentle as you leaned forward to try and make eye contact with him.  

He nearly broke the controller in his hands and, instead, ended up covering his face with them out of self restraint. The very self restraint that breaks when you repeat it thinking he didn’t hear you which led him to pull you into his lap and start hugging the life out of you.

“Why are you so cute?” He grumbles into your shoulder, his grip around your waist tightening.

“What?” 

“Nothing.” 

Nope, you don’t get to know. He doesn’t need you thinking he’s moody over something petty and teasing him for it. 

Duke: 

He sits next to you on the bench quietly, face completely flushed for one to many reasons. 

It started with him being in a mood, kicking a pebble that happened to be near his foot while keeping his head low. He knows that the person you won’t stop talking about is just a friend but still, a part of him wonders if you talk about him as much as you talk about your friend with others. 

And really, he’s aware he’s not good at hiding his emotions. Legit, he’s frank about pretty much anything and never thought much about needing to keep his thoughts to himself. Meaning, he knew and felt guilty that you’d pick up on it. Just not in the way you decided to approach. 

“But Duke, you’re still my number one.” In the midst of you talking about the other, you suddenly wrapped your arms around one of his with a smile brighter than the sun. 

On the spot, he lit up. Literally, like a light bulb, your words being the switch for his powers to turn on. Embarrassment doesn’t even cover how he felt, all of a sudden glowing in the middle of sidewalk from being caught off guard how cute you were being. 

“…Well, that’s one way of saying you lightened up.” He gives you a half-hearted glare, not at all amused by your pun but unable to make fuss as your eyes twinkle so prettily. 

Damian:

One hand gripping yours, anyone who glances at you he hisses and glares at. 

The last thing he needs is for anyone else to get the wrong idea that he and you are “just friends” like that one guy earlier, who wouldn’t stop talking to you. And this was despite you pushing the word BOYfriend without a space in between while other twists it as “BOY friend”.

Since then, he’s been extra snarky, snipping, and laying the sarcasm thick. Clicking his tongue nonstop whenever he remembers the whole thing. 

He even decided to get back at the other, give a surprise visit tonight (all behind your back of course; he doesn’t need another session of nagging by you or his family) while continue being, what you consider as, “annoying” as his way of telling you to give all your attention to him for one whole week. Well, almost. 

“Can’t believe he won’t accept it when you’re my boyfriend. Right, Damian?” Fingers tangling with his, you flopped your head onto his shoulder  while looking up at him with a pout. 

It was at that moment he realized what “cute aggression” meant, his face burning and clenching his fists to stop himself from punching the tree next to the two of you. 

“Damian, you can let go now-” He ends up stopping you by giving your hand an extra squeeze, the temperature in his cheeks now a degree higher as he’s unable to find it in himself to vocalize he didn’t want to.

[dykebehaviour]

one tent, two idiots

best friend!ellie x reader

⛺️summary: a college camping trip with your best friends seemed like the perfect getaway. but sleeping in the woods, dealing with jesse’s terrible horror stories, and sharing a tent with ellie williams, your best friend who you’ve definitely had a crush on for months, is a lot harder than expected.

🌲cw: best friends to lovers, fluff, smut, fingering e!receiving, oral r!receiving, mutual pining, found family, tent sex, lesbianism.

☀️a/n: bit of a long one but hope you like it!!

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

you could pinpoint the exact moment you realised agreeing to a camping trip with your best friends was a mistake: right around when jesse screamed “what do you mean that’s poison ivy?” while holding a bundle of it like a bouquet.

ellie nearly choked laughing, doubling over next to you as dina calmly pulled out her phone and snapped a photo.

“it’s fine,” jesse grumbled, tossing the offending plants away and wiping his hands on his jeans. “i don’t think i’m allergic.”

“you don’t think?” cat raised an eyebrow, perched on a rock with an amused smirk.

“please let it be itchy,” ellie whispered to you, grinning.

“ellie,” you warned, nudging her.

but god, it was hard not to laugh when she looked at you like that; green eyes bright, freckled cheeks flushed from the sun, smirk tugging at the corner of her lips like you were her favorite secret. it always made your heart skip. you’d been friends for years, close since freshman orientation, but something about this year - maybe the late nights at her place, the way her hand always lingered on your lower back, the way your name sounded different when she said it - had been slowly undoing you.

you weren’t just in deep. you were drowning.

and now you had to spend a weekend camping with her. sleeping in the same tent. next to her. sharing a single air mattress because she said you’d “be fine.”

yeah. you were so screwed.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

the site was decent: small clearing, river nearby, far enough out of the city that there was no signal but not so remote that jesse couldn’t blast an old spotify camping playlist from a portable speaker.

you knew this camping trip was either going to be the best idea or the dumbest thing you’d ever agreed to the second jesse made you help him set up the tent.

“this is upside down,” you told him flatly, holding a pole that was definitely supposed to be in the ground and not poking you in the leg.

“it’s… avant-garde,” jesse replied, shrugging.

“babe, you are so bad at this,” dina called from her spot next to a half-built firepit, not even looking up as she crushed a bag of doritos for later s’mores topping.

ellie was laughing and she wasn’t helping either. instead, she had her phone out, filming you with a lazy grin.

“oh, this is going on my story. look at my favorite dumbasses struggling with basic survival.”

“ellie,” you groaned, lobbing a balled-up pair of socks at her. she dodged effortlessly and grinned wider.

“do it again,” she teased. “but take your shirt off first.”

you flushed, and jesse wiggled his eyebrows at you. you flipped them both off and pretended not to feel the way your heart leapt every time ellie looked at you like that.

the whole gang had driven two hours out of the city for a long weekend of camping - no wi-fi no deadlines, just nature and beer and each other. jesse and dina had been dating forever, and they’d dragged along cat (ellie’s ex-girlfriend, now friend, weirdly chill about it all) for balance. you were… well, you were just ‘ellie’s best friend.’

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

by sunset, the group was sweaty, tired, slightly buzzed from pre-dinner beers, and still arguing over the fire pit.

“i swear to god, just use a lighter,” dina said, tossing kindling on a smoking pile of wood. “this isn’t boy scouts.”

“no!” jesse insisted. “i watched two youtube tutorials. i’ve got this.”

you sat back, sipping your drink, ellie beside you with her legs stretched out, her hand grazing yours every so often like it didn’t mean anything. but it did. every brush, every casual lean, every shared look - it was all charged. you couldn’t tell if it was in your head or if she felt it too.

then she looked over and caught you staring.

“what?” she asked, eyes teasing.

“nothing.” you sipped your drink.

“you’re looking at me like you wanna make out or fight me. which one is it?”

you nearly choked.

“ellie.”

“i’m just saying.” she leaned closer. “if you do wanna make out, you should probably wait until we’re in the tent.”

your whole body flushed.

she pulled back like it was nothing, returning to watching jesse struggle with a flint rock like she hadn’t just set you on fire.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

dinner was chaos. jesse did eventually light the fire, but somehow managed to burn half the hot dogs and drop the rest into the dirt.

“you’re banned from cooking,” cat declared.

dina made everyone s’mores and insisted on layering them with crushed doritos “for texture.” you weren’t mad about it. ellie got chocolate all over her fingers and wiped it on your knee with a smirk. you retaliated by tossing marshmallow fluff in her hair.

by the time the sun set and the fire crackled low, everyone was loose and glowing and full.

ellie passed you the tequila bottle. “truth or dare.”

you raised an eyebrow. “seriously?”

“don’t be a coward.”

you took a long sip. “fine. truth.”

she leaned in, smile crooked. “have you ever had a crush on someone here?”

you coughed and passed the bottle to dina. “dare.”

ellie was still smirking.

you wanted to kiss her and throttle her at the same time.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

by midnight, jesse and dina were off “looking at the stars” (aka definitely getting it on behind a tree), and cat had disappeared into her hammock muttering something about “these straight people and their hormones.”

you and ellie were alone by the fire, quiet now, warm and slow.

“you tired?” she asked, glancing over.

you nodded. “little bit.”

“we should probably head in.”

the walk to your tent was short, but it felt like miles with her beside you, the back of her hand brushing yours as you walked. neither of you spoke.

inside the tent, you both changed in the dark, backs turned, silent except for the soft rustle of clothes. you slipped into the sleeping bag on the left; she took the right.

it was small. you could feel her breath on your shoulder.

you lay there, staring at the ceiling, your heart racing.

then she spoke. quietly.

“you meant me, didn’t you?”

you turned. “what?”

“earlier. when i asked if you had a crush on someone here.”

your breath hitched.

she looked at you, not smirking now. serious. open.

you swallowed. “yeah. i did.”

she nodded once. “good.”

and then she kissed you.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

it started slow. soft. careful.

like she was waiting for you to pull away.

but you didn’t. you kissed her back, fingers curling into her shirt, chest pressed to hers.

“i’ve wanted this forever,” she whispered into your mouth. “you have no idea.”

“show me,” you said, breathless.

and she did.

her hands were steady as they slipped under your shirt, dragging it up and off, her fingers grazing your skin. she kissed down your jaw, your throat, the hollow of your collarbone, her body moving over yours like it belonged there. when her mouth closed around your nipple, hot and slow, you gasped, arching into her.

“you’re so fucking pretty,” she breathed, sliding your shorts down, her fingers tracing the edge of your underwear. “can i?”

you nodded, almost desperate. “please.”

she peeled them off, tossed them aside, and lowered herself between your thighs. the first press of her tongue had your hips jerking, a moan catching in your throat. she licked you slow, savoring it, hands gripping your thighs like she needed to hold you down to keep herself together.

“you taste so good,” she groaned. “been thinking about this - fuck - for so long.”

you fisted the sleeping bag, head thrown back. “ellie-“

she sucked on your clit, fingers slipping inside you, curling just right. your whole body trembled.

“come for me, baby,” she murmured. “come just like that.”

you did - hard - legs shaking, breath caught, her name broken on your lips.

and when you came down, she kissed you again, messy and breathless, her mouth still wet with you.

you didn’t hesitate. you pushed her back, tugging her shirt off, undoing her jeans. she let you. watched you. eyes dark, lips parted.

you kissed down her stomach, licking every inch of skin you revealed, fingers teasing her wet heat.

she gasped when you slid two fingers inside her, hips grinding against your hand. “fuck - yes..”

you sucked on her neck, her chest, drank in every sound she made as she rocked against you.

she came with a cry, clinging to you, her body tense and trembling, mouth crushed against your shoulder.

afterward, she pulled you into her chest, arm slung around your waist, fingers tracing lazy circles into your skin.

“you’re mine now,” she murmured sleepily.

you smiled into her collarbone. “took you long enough.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

the sun filtered into the tent in soft golden streaks, warming your bare shoulders and making the whole world feel like it was holding its breath.

ellie was still asleep beside you, arm tucked under her head, freckled face peaceful and a little flushed from sleep. she had one hand resting on your hip like she was afraid you’d vanish. her hoodie had somehow become your pillow. you could smell her; campfire smoke and skin and something distinctly hers.

you didn’t want to move. ever.

your body still ached in the best way. your skin hummed where she’d touched you, kissed you, held you like she meant it.

you leaned in and kissed her nose.

she scrunched it, groaned, and blinked one eye open.

“rude,” she rasped. her voice was thick with sleep, sexy in a way that made your stomach flip.

“good morning to you too,” you whispered, smiling.

she hummed, then stretched long and lazy, like a cat, and pulled you into her chest. “can we stay in here forever?”

“i mean, we could, but i think jesse’s starting a fire with your flannel.”

ellie groaned again, louder this time. “fuck. right. the others.”

“yep.”

“we had sex in a tent twenty feet from them.”

you laughed into her collarbone. “In our defense, it’s a very well-insulated tent.”

ellie paused. “is it?”

a loud voice called from outside.

“YOU GUYS OWE ME FIVE DOLLARS,” jesse yelled triumphantly. “I CALLED IT.”

ellie buried her face in your shoulder and let out a muffled scream.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

when you finally emerged from the tent - ellie wearing your hoodie and her sweats, you in bike shorts and a sweatshirt that definitely wasn’t yours - the group was already waiting like a pack of vultures.

jesse pointed a spatula at you. “so. how was your night?”

“peaceful,” ellie said dryly, reaching for a pancake.

dina leaned in. “was it? because i heard someone moaning like a victorian ghost.”

“oh my god,” you muttered, grabbing a plate and hiding behind ellie.

cat sipped her coffee with deadly calm. “for what it’s worth, i don’t hate the enemies-to-lovers arc you two have been pulling for the last six months. very pride & prejudice.”

“we weren’t enemies,” you mumbled.

“you glared at her every time she flirted with cat,” jesse pointed out.

“i didn’t glare,” you protested.

“i’ve never felt so stared at,” cat added helpfully.

ellie turned red but grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much. “well, she’s got me now. so you’re safe.”

“is this, like, a real thing now?” dina asked, tone softening slightly. “because i’m gonna be honest, i shipped it, but i didn’t think you two had the emotional capacity to confess.”

“we didn’t,” ellie said with a shrug. “we just had really good sex instead.”

you elbowed her. “ellie.”

“what? it’s called problem-solving.”

everyone groaned. jesse tossed a pancake at her face.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

after breakfast, you all wandered down to the river, the sun fully up, shoes discarded as you dipped your toes in the water. ellie sat behind you on the rocks, arms draped over your shoulders, chin resting on your head. it wasn’t subtle. and it wasn’t meant to be.

“you’re cuddly now,” cat noted, squinting at ellie. “is this what we should expect? are you gonna start writing poetry on your notes app?”

“i already did,” ellie said proudly. “wanna hear it?”

“absolutely not,” jesse said.

you tilted your head up to look at her. “wait. you wrote a poem?”

“mm-hmm. last night. in my head. while you were sleeping.”

you blushed. “was it awful?”

“oh yeah,” she grinned. “rhymed ‘moonlight’ with ‘all-night.’”

you burst out laughing.

“fucking hell,” dina muttered. “they’re gonna be unbearable.”

“i give them three months before the honeymoon phase implodes and we have to pick sides,” cat declared.

“rude,” you said.

“mine’s gonna be ellie,” jesse said. “she’s funnier.”

ellie threw a pebble at him.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

as the morning stretched on, the teasing gave way to easy chatter and lazy warmth. you ended up sprawled in the grass with ellie’s head in your lap, playing with her hair while the others played cards nearby.

“hey,” she said softly, looking up at you.

“yeah?”

“i meant it. last night. you’re mine now.”

your heart squeezed.

you leaned down and kissed her.

“yours,” you whispered.

[justevelynnnn]

Don’t open that!

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Reader

Summary: Mark slips up and sends you a picture but what he doesn’t know is you actually end up liking it…

Warnings: MDNI 🔞, Reader is written with being afab in mind but can be gender neutral, mentions of a d pic being sent to reader

A/N: This idea came up to me while i was at work so i had to get it out…but omg imagine this scenario with me😭 also I’m working on a lot of my drafts and requests tonight I promise😭‼️

It was just another late saturday night. You were trying decompress from working earlier that day as well as letting your dinner digest before bed. You lived a simple life. You had your own place now even though you were 20. It was nice, small but yours. It had ambient lighting, a candle here and there…lots of pillows….

Your bed was extra soft tonight too though it probably just feels that way because of how tired you were.

You also had a decent view.

Sometimes you’d leave your window cracked open just in case Mark stopped by. Ever since he got with Amber and then later Eve you haven’t seen him much, but he still came by occasionally. It was just hard. You were convinced you guys would get married and everything back in high school.

A crush might be an understatement to be honest, but saying you were in love was also too much. Especially because you were a teenager, like, what did you know about love? Even though everything still reminded you of him. Or you loved being around him no matter what you guys were doing.

Mark being invincible was weird too. Your ex best friend, a superhero. Flying and punching bad guys daily. Going into literal outer space. It definitely took some getting used to.

Now you were laying on your bed upside down and scrolling on social media. Aside from the occasional video that popped up and the cars honking from below it was quiet in your room. Nice and peaceful.

You didn’t know you had silent mode off on your phone though so that’s why the sudden DING! from your phone scared the shit out of you.

It was message. From Mark.

It said:

Just now | Mark💞 : [One attachment]

You quirked an eyebrow. A meme maybe?

Your finger moved to click the notification. It’s been days since he sent you anything honestly so part of you was excited. However, when you saw what it was your jaw dropped and your heart took a fucking screenshot.

If the angle wasn’t enough it was that dick. His.

Your eyes settled on it for a full minute. You assumed he saw you were looking because he had read receipts on…but you typed nothing. You couldn’t. What could you even say?

You couldn’t even be mad. You should’ve. It was an unprovoked dick pic. In the past, you’d be fuming by now, but, obviously, this was different. Right?

He had his phone angled so it was as if one were looking up at him, his shirt up on his torso so his abs showed, and right in the forefront was his hardened dick. Right there. His tip was flushed and oozing from what you saw too. You couldn’t hell but think that just like his face, his dick was just as captivating.

His face was in the corner but kinda cut but you could see his eyes half lidded and his face was rosy pink.

You mouthed, “Oh my god…”

Eve or Amber or whoever he was with now that was supposed to get this was lucky as shit. You tried to also ignore the rising jealousy for the mystery girl too.

It’s been 3 minutes now. Maybe he didn’t see it went totally the wrong girl? Part of you was scared it WAS meant for you. Not in a bad way. Maybe you were actually nervous.

Then those 3 dots appeared. Oh god.

You swipe out of your messages app. You couldn’t look and let him see you were still staring.

Then another notification just as quick as the dots appeared came from the top of your screen.

Just Now | Mark 💞: DONT OPEN THAT

Just Now | Mark 💞: Oh my fucking god

Just Now | Mark 💞: Don’t open it please

Just Now | Mark 💞: I’m so sorry

You wondered if he saw the little “read” under to his picture or not. Probably not if he’s telling you not to open it.

You waited a minute while he sent a few more panicked texts. Then you sigh and open the app again. What could you say? Something cocky? A joke? Maybe send an emoji? You had to say something because you already saw it and you didn’t want things to be awkward for days on end following this.

Your fingers just start to move.

You: It’s okay Mark

You: It was a mistake

You paused. You thought hard about sending the next text. Then:

You: Also i have to tell you, you’re really hot

You: Sorry if that’s weird.

Nothing. But it said read immediately. Your heart was still hammering in your chest from it all. This actually changes everything. Part of you wanted to know who it was for. A smaller part wondered why he couldn’t just check who he was sending this to.

Things are going to be awkward now for sure.

He starts typing again seconds later. This time you watch the dots. Anticipation building slowly as you wondered what he was going to say next. You had to look away from your phone and at one of your burning candles as you waited.

Mark 💞: It’s fine

Mark 💞: Sorry i fucked up so bad. i seriously didn’t mean to

Mark 💞: I know your traumatized, i’ll make it up to you i promise

Mark 💞: :(

You giggle a bit at the sad face. He normally used it when he joked so you liked how he could joke about this. Your heart now flutters imagining his reaction. His flushed face and sorry eyes behind his screen. Maybe that lip bite thing he does when he’s nervous.

You typed back slowly, deciding to take a risk.

You: I’m not traumatized….actually i kinda liked it..

Your breath hitches as you hit send and this time you actually threw your phone. You couldn’t look again. Hell no. This was the stupidest thing you couldn’t done-

Ding!

You flinch. You slowly turn your phone around so you could see your lock screen with the notification on it.

Just Now | Mark 💞: Oh?

Just “oh”. Now it your turn to be mortified. Has he figured you out? Does he think you’re weird? You hated how he didn’t use emojis so you knew how he was feeling. Even a hint. Was he intrigued? Or grossed out?

You open your messages to reply with an apology when you see just in time another message come through.

Mark 💞: Wanna see it again?

Your eyes widened for the hundredth time that night. You wanted to type yes in all caps immediately but you withheld. You took a deep breath. Things we changing, and fast. You wanted to do this right. Maybe this is your change to finally get with him in your own eccentric way.

You think hard before responding.

You: I wouldn’t mind

He doesn’t respond for a few more minutes. You wish you knew what he was thinking. And you prayed you didn’t go too far.

And just like that your prayers were answered. You sat up on your bed as you saw the second image come in.

Your face was lit up in the semi dark room when the picture appeared. If looking from outside your window, impossible for being on the tenth floor by the way, they’d see your mixed look of shock and arousal. They’d see how you bit your lip and just stares at your phone.

But no one could ever guess you were looking at your best friend’s dick for the second time that night.

You made a choice and hearted the image.

In his own room, Mark smiled. Sure it was meant for Eve because she decided to get back with Rex but your reaction just changed everything.

[ravensuperr]

DPx DC Prompt-Alternate Dimension Shenanigans

So instead of the usual Casper High field trip trope in the Danny Phantom fandom, imagine this time it’s Damian Wayne’s class that ends up stuck in the Infinite Realms.

Here’s how it plays out:

Damian’s class is on the way back from an overnight field trip to Washington, D.C. Everything's fine—until they stop at a rest area. The bus driver goes off to handle his business, comes back, and they get back on the road.

Then… a portal opens out of nowhere.

They don’t even have time to react. The bus gets pulled in. When they try to turn around, the portal’s already gone.

Enter: Danny Phantom.

He’s just gotten back from visiting either Pandora (weekly chat) or Frostbite (med checkup) when he stumbles on a confused group of teens, their teacher, and a parked bus in the middle of the Infinite Realms.

He blinks.

Mr. Carter (the teacher): “Our driver stopped at a rest stop—standard procedure. Then this portal opened up out of nowhere. We couldn’t stop in time. It just… sucked us in. When we tried to turn around, it was gone.”

Danny: “Ah. Natural portal. Those usually happen to planes, not buses… though, now that I think about it, ground traffic’s not unheard of. Shouldn’t have said that out loud.”

Damian (irritated): “Where exactly are we?”

Danny: “You’re in the Infinite Realm.”

Camila (raising an eyebrow): “So… another dimension?”

Zane (grinning): “Wait, does this count for my bingo card? ‘Accidentally ending up in another dimension’ was my free square.”

Priya: “Are we in space? Or some alien planet?”

Danny: “Nope. Think bigger.”

He gestures to the eerie green sky swirling above them.

Danny: “The Infinite Realm is like... glue. The glue that holds everything together. Every timeline, every dimension, every kind of power—magic, science, tech—they all touch the Infinite Realm. This place connects them all.”

Emily (deadpan): “Freaky. Multiversal glue vibes.”

Suddenly, one of the students blurts out:

Mason: “How did you die?”

The whole class turns to stare.

Mason (shrugging): “Come on—tell me you’re not curious too.”

Danny (calmly): “Okay, so, it’s super rude to ask a ghost how they died unless you’re family or really close. It’s kinda taboo.”

Leo: “Fine, then… who’s your favorite Justice League member?”

Danny (without missing a beat): “Martian Manhunter.”

Zane: “Why?”

Danny: “Because I wanted to be an astronaut when I grew up… and I love space.”

Damian (pinching the bridge of his nose): “Does anyone have a question that’ll help us get home?”

Nina (class rep): “Yeah—how are you getting us back?”

Danny: “There’s a powerful artifact that can return you to your dimension. I just need to make sure none of you wander off or tick off any local ghosts. Not all of them are thrilled to see humans here.”

Camila: “So you can take us back to Gotham?”

Danny: “Sure. Where exactly is that in the U.S.?”

Class (in unison): “…Are you serious?”

Danny: “I know it’s where Batman and his birds live. I just don’t know where it is on a map. Also, I failed geography. And I’m dead.”

Emily: “New Jersey. Gotham’s in New Jersey.”

Danny: “Cool. Everyone back on the bus. First stop: Pandora.”

Priya: “Wait—Pandora? As in Pandora’s Box?”

Danny: “Yep. She’s real. She’s super protective of it. Someone stole it once—I helped her get it back. She’s chill now. I’m going to ask her if you can hang out in her realm while I talk to two people: Frostbite and Clockwork. I need to make sure I don’t accidentally drop you off in the wrong Gotham.”

Zane: “There’s a wrong Gotham?!”

Danny: “This place touches every timeline. You don’t think there’s a version of Gotham where Batman is a vampire or something? Multiverse roulette isn’t fun.”

Class (collectively): “Yeah. No more questions.”

Camila (genuinely): “Wait—we don’t even know your name. We feel kinda rude calling you Ghost Boy.”

Danny (blinks): “Oh. Right. Just call me Phantom.”

Damian (dryly): “Just Phantom? Not your real name?”

Danny: “Not telling you that. That’s basically the same as asking how I died. Still rude.”

Mason: “If I die, can I change my name?”

Danny: “Yeah. You can go by whatever name you want. You’re dead. There are no rules.”

Leo: “What if someone’s, like, gay or bi or trans? Does that matter?”

Danny: “Dude, we’re dead. We’ve got Pride flags engraved into dimension gates. Trans? Cool. Bi? Great. Ace? Valid. Nobody cares. You’re free to be whoever you are.”

Priya: “Okay but… what if someone was transitioning when they died?”

Danny: “Then the gender they identified as is the one they get. Period. No exceptions.”

Zane: “...So it’s like actual equality?”

Danny: “Yeah. Ghost society’s not perfect, but nobody here’s getting judged for who they are. You’ll probably see two ghost guys kissing before lunchtime.”

Mason: “Wait. Have you met Death?”

Danny: “Twice.”

Class: “…What?”

Danny: “Yeah. They go by Jeff.”

Class (blinking): “Jeff?”

Danny: “Says it sounds like Death. Duh.”

Damian (deadpan, to himself): “I need a week off school. Maybe two.”

Damian (out loud): “What about things like Time? Dreams? Are they ghosts, too?”

Danny (nodding): “They’re called never-born ghosts. They weren’t alive and then dead—they exist because of human concepts. Like Time? His name’s Clockwork. Depending on your religion, you’ve probably heard of him under a different name. Same ghost. Different culture.”

[puppybei]

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Sukuna, Choso, Toji

Warnings: Insecure reader, hurt/no comfort, they’re being like really mean and they will hurt your feelings so yeah.. not proofread.. Geto will be added later on…

Wc: around 650 for each character (4.3k in total)

Satoru Gojo

You’ve always been kind of loud around the ones you held close to your heart. Even more with Gojo who’d always match your energy tenfold, it filled you with so much joy to be around someone who enjoyed your company as much as you did his.

Gojo’s sitting next to you, arm slung around your shoulders loosely as he nodded at whatever you were talking about. Your voice had become slightly higher in pitch, excitement evident with every word you let out, after all it was Gojo, he’d always be listening to you,

“So then the male lead said-”

Gojo sighed and you paused in between your rambling, tugging at his sleeve softly, like you were the little girl whose father never looked at her till she was begging him for his attention. Your Gojo pulled himself away, flipping out his phone and scrolling with a bored expression,

“You can be so loud sometimes, you know? It’s just crazy how much you can just keep talking”

Oh

You felt a stutter in your chest, your voice quietening down to nothing as you sat stiff next to him. You didn’t know what to do, let alone think. A million thoughts ran around in your head. Gojo thought you were loud, all this time when you thought that he genuinely enjoyed your company and wanted to listen to you. God you felt stupid, after all you’d never really changed from that loud, annoying kid from the fifth grade had you? Always too much, too loud, too talkative, never able to sit a moment still and that’s all you’ll amount to even if decades pass and you're older.

You wondered how long he had kept this information to himself, how many times he must’ve clenched his fist as he let you ramble on like some stupid school girl while internally he hated every word that came out of your mouth. He must’ve spent a thousand tired nights letting you talk about some irrelevant show just so you would be happy. Oh god, you felt like fucking shit, the self depricating thoughts multiplied one after another as you sat next to your boyfriend, feeling more like a burden he was putting up with than his lover with every passing second.

“Uh ‘toru?, I’m gonna go to bed, night baby,”

Your voice was quiet, so very quiet that Gojo barely made out the words that came out of your mouth. He nodded in response, untangling himself from you and letting you pull away from him.

The bed felt cold and you didn’t know if it was the bed or the hollowness of your own chest that made you feel so empty. The tears came shortly after and you felt like your heart was being squeezed, heavy weight on your rib cage as you tried to be as qiuet as humanely possible. The tears that fell on the silk lined pillows grew cold as you tossed and turned in the bed, trying everything the soften the growing pit of unease in your stomach.

By the time Gojo returned to the bed you had pulled the covers over your face, feeling the bed dip with his added weight. You had stopped crying an hour ago, though the pain settled deep in your bones and you felt like a five year old, tearing up by his mere presence. He pulled you onto his side, arm curled around your waist as you felt him snuggle affectionately into your hair. You let him, you dont know why, maybe the pathetic part of you still craved for him when things got too hard for you too handle. After you were sure his breathing had even out you slipped out of bed, entering the guest room without a word.

Suguru Geto

Mornings are always lazy with Suguru, he’ll whine into your neck about how he doesn’t want to leave and wrap his arms around you, jostling you around just for the fun of it. The twins will pad into your room not soon after, jumping onto the bed and annoying you both, till you wake up and made breakfast for them.

The routine is simple, it’s easy and it’s comforting. Suguru cooks breakfast while you slowly make the girls go through their morning routine. He takes a shower and you plate the food and prepare the lunch bentos while the twins sit politely at the dinner table. Finally, the entire family sits together and eats breakfast as Suguru hears about the twins' progress and all the pretend play they did the day before.

An hour later and everyone’s out of the house, bentos placed securely into their bags and chaste kisses placed onto the twins’ cheeks as Suguru pulls you in for a secret one behind their backs. You’ll smile into the kiss and he’ll murmur about how much he’s gonna miss you, acting like pulling away from the kiss was causing him third degree burns.

Today was like every other day, you shut the door behind you with a soft click. The house was enveloped in silence and you smiled to yourself, after the chaos of the morning faded away the house was all yours and it came with the sudden hit of drowsiness. You barely pushed yourself to the couch before promptly passing out, only awakening when the clock hit eleven.

By this time you’d start cleaning up a bit, the empty dishes on the tables, the clothes strewn across the bedroom of the twins and then a few minutes of gardening. You stopped when a flash of black caught your eye, it was Suguru’s lunchbox, something he should have taken with him to the office. He must’ve forgotten it when the twins tackled him to the ground earlier this morning.

You decided you’d bring it to him, he’d be so grateful if you did. So you got ready, a simple outfit and just the basic amount of makeup, you didn’t want his coworkers to think you were a slob.

His office had twenty floors and he was at the very top, a company he ran alongside Gojo. You hummed a tune in the elevator as you slowly ascended up, the receptionist was already aware of who you were, courtesy of Geto never shutting up about you apparently, it brought an embarrassed but giddy smile to your face.

The heavy metal doors finally opened and you were greeted by Geto’s and Gojo’s secretary, Ichiji who Gojo recruited at college, a man you quite honestly felt bad for with how much they were working him to the bone. He waved at you when he saw you, a tired smile on his face as he told you leave the box on his desk because Geto was on a call.

You wanted to peek at your boyfriend while he was working so you hid a giggle as you stood outside his door, stiffening when you heard your name through the small creak of the door,

“She’s not the twins’ mom, she’s doing too much,”

You don’t know how you made it back to the elevator in one peace, your feet carrying you all the way back home as your thoughts swallowed your time. Did Geto not want you to look after them? They’d even called you mom accidentally a few times and you felt like you had developed at the very least some kind of motherly affection for them.

You spent hours with them daily and they adored you, it was evident in the way they called out for you during their nightmares and clutched at your hand when they fell asleep in your arms. You felt oddly cold, like a wave had washed over you and you were still standing in the middle of the ocean waiting for something that was never going to be yours.

How could he think you were doing too much? You made sure to run every decision you made regarding the twins through him and he’d never showcased his displeasure. He probably didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but to know that he was going behind your back and telling others that you weren’t suited made you feel like shit.

You knew that you’ll never be the twins’s mother, you never expected to fill that role, just hoped that maybe Geto would appreciate the work and love you put into raising them. But it was clear to you that he’d never see you as any sort of mother figure to the twins and it hurt you, the twisted feeling in your heart caused you to start crying on the couch, rubbing at your blurry eyes as you tried to calm down.

Kento Nanami

You’ve always sort of been kind of clumsy, constantly bumping into the corners of tables, stubbing your toe, spilling water, burning yourself while trying to cook something. Nanami’s known about this and as a precaution for you (and himself if he’s being completely honest) he’s always taken care of the tasks that leave you a bit more injured than before.

Cooking for the both of you is a task he takes great pride in doing, but Nanami’s been coming home late from work. Exhaustion weighing heavy on his shoulders and even you can see it with the way his smile barely reaches his eyes. So you decided, for a change you’d cook and this time there wouldn’t be any unfortunate surprises.

The meal was simple, a favourite of Kento’s to welcome him home. A dish his mother used to make that he always held in high regard, singing praises about it to the point that even you would start drooling whenever he would talk about it. But the main thing is not only was it absolutely divine, it’s also his comfort food, one he made for himself and never asked for your help, always brushing you off with a gentle smile, telling you that he’d rather you not hurt yourself for him.

You’re almost half way done with, when you hear the familiar jingle of keys and in the process of rushing to greet your husband, you accidentally stub your toe against the door of the kitchen and in an attempt to keep yourself from falling you grab the marble counter, pushing a glassed dessert off and watching it shatter onto the floor and break into a million pieces.

You heard Kento’s voice before seeing him, he called out your name, immediately concerned for your safety as you sheepishly smiled at him. He stood on the threshold of the kitchen door, still dressed in his formal wear with one shoe haphazardly pulled off in his rush to get to you.

He sighed, dropping the suit blazer from the crook of his elbow as an almost stern expression came across his face,

“You don’t have to- I’ve told you multiple times that I’ll take care of the cooking right sweetheart? Why must you be so stubborn and do this when I’ve never-,”

He rubbed his palms over his face, breathing in deeply as you stood frozen in place, apologies spilling from your mouth as you tried to pick up the broken pieces of glasses,

“No stop! I’ll take care of it. Just please, go inside,”

He pulled you away from the kitchen, hand curled around your upper arm as he shut the kitchen door behind you. You felt like a five year old kid again, standing as still as physically possible so your parents wouldn’t get mad at you for messing something up.

You carefully sat down on the worn down cushions, playing with the ends of your fingernails as a million thought ran its course through your head. You knew it wasn’t his fault, Kento’s just been tired and on edge lately but it still hurt nonetheless, to be treated like you were a child incapable of any basic tasks. You knew Kento didn’t think of you like that but it doesn’t help when you’ve been treated like an overgrown child your entire life by the people around you just because you’re a little bit more clumsy than others.

Kento just wants you to be safe, you know that and yet it hurts, it hurts so much to not be able to do anything for the person you love so much because at the end of the day you’ll just be as incompetent as a child. You didn’t want the day to go like this, you wanted him to be surprised, to appreciate the fact that you could do something for him, take care of him like he did for you but in the end you’ve just burdened him more.

Wet, hot tears make it down the apples of your cheeks and you aggressively wipe them away, feeling like you didn’t deserve to cry, not with the way you’d fucked up everything tonight.

Choso

Choso’s sweet, he’s nice and kind and everything that you should want in a man. He holds doors open for you, pulls your chair back whenever you go to a restaurant, always lets you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk and he’s a gentleman overall. It’s just sometimes he can be really really obtuse.

He says things that can hurt though they only wound someone if they’re also insecure. You let the tiny comments slip by, always making sure to educate him whenever you can because he does mean his best. He's just unaware of how certain phrases can have different connotations or how they can mean something other than the literal meaning that the phrase is intended for.

You’re at a party with your boyfriend, recently you both had decided you wanted to go to gym, partly because you’re scared you’ll be sixty years old with chronic back pain and partly because you’ve been putting off getting into shape for a long time. So you both had been rigorously following a diet, making sure to count your macros and micros and following the diet plans you found online.

This party was the first one in a few months you’d felt free enough to let loose, you’d lost some weight gained some muscle and you felt confident enough to splurge a bit more on food, after all what’s the point of life if you’re just constantly restricting.

Choso came behind you as you scooped up another ladle of pasta, the rest of your mutual friends sat in the living room, lounging around as easy conversion filled up the space.

“Are you sure you really wanna get another serving?”

You stopped dead in your tracks, turning around to make eye contact with a confused Choso. A pit had already started to form in your stomach, the all too familiar feeling of insecurity and shame. Choso smiled at you when you put the pasta back in its bowl, suddenly hyper aware of the Aircon that left goosebumps on your skin, the party music that thrummed through the house, the feeling of fabric sticking to your skin and the humid air that wafted in through the open windows.

Choso said something else and pulled you with him towards the living room where a dance circle had formed, other couples swaying to the music as singles sat on the couch loudly booing. Choso had his hand on your waist and suddenly you felt sick to your stomach, like everything you had eaten was going to come back up and claw its way out your stomach.

You felt too full, like everyone’s eyes were on you and mocking, making fun of you like they did in high school, pointing out every insecurity for shits and giggles. You shook your head as Choso looked down at you, he didn’t mean it like that he just doesn’t know, but what if he did. What if he meant it with his entire heart.

Choso’s the perfect boyfriend and if you were going to lose him because you lacked some self control, you bit your lip, resting your head on Choso’s head and trying to ground yourself by listening to his heartbeat.

He didn’t mean it like that but the old anxiety started to itch at the seams, begging to be let out, to make you drown in self hatred and misery as it took control of your entire life. To poke and prod at your own skin and point it all out in front of a mirror to make you feel like a stupid teenager.

You pushed away from your boyfriend, disgust pooling in your stomach as you made up some stupid excuse and got into the car, looking out the window as Choso drove you home, worry evident in his face as he tried to figure out what was wrong. Once you reached, you said you wanted some alone time and slept in the guest room, tears falling down and staining the cotton pillowcase as you hugged the comforter around yourself, too far in hatred to want your boyfriends comfort anymore.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji’s quiet when he finally comes home, he’s texted you earlier, unusally curt and just slightly cold. He’d be coming home late, actually he’d been coming home late for the past few days, always stressed and pushing off your worries without a second word. Today, you’d decided that it would change, he’d have to talk to you, it’s been ages since you both had a proper conversation.

“Hi baby, how was work?”

You trailed behind him, watching him shrug off his blood stained jacket and plop it into your arms without a second thought. He merely grunted in response and you furrowed your eyebrows, usually you’d take this as a sign that he didn’t want to talk and back off but you really needed your husband back, you were itching at the seams for some cuddles and at the very least a bit of quality time spent together,

“Are you hungry? I made dinner, or do you wanna rest up first? I switched on the heater if you wanna take a bath,”

He walked into the living room now, ignoring your questions as he sunk down into the couch with a disgruntled sigh, turning his face away from you and burying it into the soft cushions on the couch as you stared at him from above, heart thumping irregularly as anxiety clawed at your skin,

“Toji? Baby-”

Toji’s green eyes snapped open and he shot up from the couch, his face twisting in anger and exhaustion as he cut off your words,

“What is it with you woman! It’s either one thing or the other! Can’t you take a fucking hint!? Always fucking yapping off in my ear like some incessant parrot!”

You don’t really remember when you stopped registering the man’s words, taking a step back as he inched closer and closer into your space until your back hit the wall with a soft thud. The weight of his coat felt heavy in your arms and you swallowed the saliva that pooled in your mouth out of fear.

You could almost feel your face twitching in fear, every minuscule movement that Toji made was being hyperanalyzed by your brain and at the same time you barely had any control over your emotions, let alone your feelings.

Everything felt methodical, at one point the man brushed past you and slammed the bedroom door shut. The anxiety and fear that was running hot in your veins felt cold, far too sudden and you felt sick, like you were going to throw up. Your mind was chanting at you, trying to bring you back to ground as the tears streamed down your face, crouched down next to the wall as you bit your lip harshly.

Toji had never yelled at you, and the apparent effect he had on you was obvious as you tried not to scratch at your own skin. Your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear, your mind was conjuring up images of the man you love, standing above you with a face you didn’t quite recognize. You shut your eyes close trying not to succumb to your own head.

It felt like hours had passed when you finally laid down in the couch, throw blanket pulled haphazardly over you as you rested your head on the old couch pillows, were you really that needy? That loud? had Toji finally gotten tired of you. As much as you tried to shut the self deprecating thoughts out, they only grew in number.

Sleep had found you well past midnight with red rimmed eyes and a stuffy nose. You shivered in the cold night and hugged your own body asleep in an effort to comfort yourself.

If Toji wanted space, then space you’d give him.

Ryoumen Sukuna

Sukuna has always been rough around the edges, formed by years of neglect by his own parents and then fighting for his rights at a place supposed to be his home. He had it all from the outside but if anyone cared to get to know him then they’d know that deep inside lies a little kid who just needs love. And so he tried to fill the hole in his heart with multiple women, girls who fell for his bad boy look, the ones who wanted a piece of him and lingered afterwards like an old coffee stain.

Then came you, too sweet for his own good. You first met him while working on a project together and Sukuna couldn’t help but be captivated by your charm, your kindness that was even able to break his stone cold heart, and somehow he grew on you.

Soon after you both started dating, your lease came to an end and he proposed you try living together. After all, it had been a year and half since you both started dating and it only seemed normal to move in with each other at this point, you agreed without much resistance and soon you both had moved in together.

The little cracks in your relationship had unknowingly started to show, to put it in the least offensive words, you were kind of a slob. It’s not like you didn’t clean up or look after yourself, it’s just that it took you some time to get it done. Dishes would be in the sink to be done at night and by then the entire kitchen would be spotless. You cleaned your room maybe once a week, considering half of the time you were lounging around in the living room with Sukuna.

The problems started to arise when Sukuna was forced to work from home after a nasty fall and a fracture. That’s when he started to notice your habits, he’s start tch-ing at you whenever you left something dirty lying around, cursing loudly when he’d try to get a cup of coffee just to find all the dirty cups in the sink. You’d offer to clean a cup up for him but he’d just push you away and do it himself.

It was day ten on his house arrest that the words slipped out as you were picking up a few clothes when Sukuna unfortunately tripped on them, catching himself on a table,

“She never fucking did this shit…”

It was a mumble, barely meant to be heard by you. Unfortunately for him you did, and unfortunately for yourself, once you started spiraling there really was no end to it. Later that day, after making the house was as clean as it could physically be, you were left alone with yours thoughts.

Usually for you, doing something productive and listening to music would be enough of a distraction to keep the voice in your head quiet, but there was literally nothing you could do and Sukuna was too busy with his back to back meetings for you to annoy him. You’re not sure how you’d even face him after the comment he made earlier.

A second later and you were scrolling through his instagram page, the women he dated in the past always tagged him, making it a point to show him off like some hard earned trophy they won. The last woman who’d tagged him was his ex, the longest one of six months and they had even moved in together.

You mindlessly scrolled through her page, she was pretty- like instagram model pretty. She had an immense amount of following and when you scrolled down enough you could see posts where she plastered all over Sukuna and suddenly all you could feel was the tightness of your chest that shook your entire body.

One rabbit hole led to another and suddenly you were scrolling through all of Sukuna’s exes, the tears fell with every swipe, your vision was blotchy and nose red. Your throat felt uncomfortable but you really couldn’t help but compare yourself, and with every passing minute you started to loathe yourself a bit more.

How could Sukuna not get tired staying with you, a disgusting mess at home who didn’t even try to impress him a bit. You felt like a failure, wondering why Sukuna would even choose you over the girls that he usually went for, chewing your lip and picking at the skin of your fingernails as you shut your eyes and tried to focus on anything else.

You stirred awake when you felt warm air tickle your ear, Sukuna had joined you in bed, tucking his head in between your shoulder and head as he drifted of to sleep. You could feel all your imperfections hit you like a train, could your boyfriend really even stand to be in the same bed as you? Were you even worthy of him considering he had girls lined up to date him after you were gone. You couldn’t do anything but stay stiffened up on the bed as he slept peacefully, unaware of your inner turmoil as you tried calm yourself.

A/n: Ignore Sukuna’s being like 200 words longer than everyone else’s I have a huge soft spot for him sorry for all the mistakes if yall could point it out I’d appreciate it thanks good night

[anglbunny]

TOUCH UP

♡. dyeing their hair while sitting on their lap w/otoya and shidou... VERY suggestive mdni, hair dyeing, sitting on their lap, based on this req

OTOYA EITA

“You’re hard,” you whisper, frozen, brush mid-stroke over his stupid little green strand.

Otoya shrugs beneath you, shameless. He’s lounging back in the chair, long legs spread, hands resting on your hips as if you’re his personal armrest. The bulge under you is unmistakable—thick, hot, twitching against your core through thin layers of clothes.

“Yeah,” he says, cool as ever. “I have this gorgeous girl straddling me and playing with my hair. What did you expect?”

You shoot him a look. “I’m dyeing your hair. This isn’t supposed to be—”

“Hot?” he cuts in, smirking as his hands flex, rocking your hips just enough to make you gasp. “Sorry, baby, but you’re sittin’ on my lap, wearing those little shorts, touching me all gentle like that… You have to know what you’re doing.”

“I’m literally just trying to fix your roots.”

“Mhm,” he hums, dragging one palm up your spine, slow and heavy. “And you’re grinding on me just a little each time you lean forward. You sure you’re trying to fix me?”

You try to focus—really, you do—but his cock presses up against your heat every time he breathes and your thighs are shaking. He leans forward, lips brushing your collarbone.

“Go on,” he murmurs. “Keep going. Pretend I’m not rock hard. Pretend you’re not soaking through your panties.”

You shudder.

He grins.

"Or," he whispers, hand sliding under your shirt, "you could use me instead. Grind on it. Take what you want. You’re already in the perfect position, pretty thing."

You shouldn’t.

You really shouldn’t.

But the dye dries half-finished.

And his lap is soaked by the end of it.

SHIDOU RYUSEI

“Don’t move,” you scold, fingers combing through Shidou’s blond hair as you section off another piece to retouch his tips. You’re straddling his lap, thighs caging him in, towel slung across his shoulders, gloves smudged with dye.

He hums lazily beneath you, but there’s nothing innocent about the way his hands grip your hips. Not when his thumbs slide under your waistband. Not when he’s been hard since the second you climbed into his lap.

“This is torture, y’know,” he says, smirking up at you through hooded eyes. “You sittin’ all pretty on me… makin’ those little concentration faces while your thighs squeeze around me?”

“You asked me to fix your hair,” you mutter, ignoring how hot your face is.

He grins, unbothered. “I didn’t think you’d do it in those tiny ass shorts. But I’m not complaining.”

You start applying the dye again but his fingers are already creeping up the backs of your thighs, squeezing the soft skin, shifting you just slightly against the bulge in his sweatpants.

“You’re unbelievable,” you breathe, glaring.

Shidou’s voice drops, wicked and low: “You’re on my dick, telling me I’m the problem?”

You go still—his cock pressing right against the seam of your underwear, thick and twitching. You feel everything. And he knows it.

He tilts his head, mocking sweet. “C’mon, baby. Rub against it a little. ‘S not like I’ll stop you.”

“You’re disgusting,” you whisper, thighs clenching.

He grins wider, tongue running across his teeth. “And you’re wet. Wanna see if you can dye my hair with how messy you’ll get if I move just right?”

You shove a palm against his forehead. “Shut up so I can finish.”

He leans in, lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “c'mon, move a little, just a tiny bit, princess, grind down on it and I’ll give you a prize.”

“What prize?”

He laughs, filthy and breathless. “Me. With my mouth. On my knees. Worshipping every inch of you for being such a good girl.”

You don’t finish the tips.

You finish first.

TL: @samm1e13 @demiitria @syleepy @chaoslibra @bontenxo @pinkymangacaps @riinniies @samthesimp1 @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @kamelika @luvsymai @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @silverwings920 @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @yanderebluelockfan @valexqpt @bigclownshoes @rinniewinnie787 @satorella @mitsurisupporter @meikstv @mihyas-dieehefrau @ravenbc @greekyoghurtwithberries

A/n: for my pretty girl, im sorry i did this so late

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[Masterlist]

[okwonyo]

BABY, I’M HERE ୨୧ 𝗂 𝖺𝗂𝗇’𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐕 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽

𝟏𝟑𝟎𝟐𝒾──── enhypen 𝗑 f!rea ✿ fluff 𓂋 kissing skinship ❞ 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 ｡

rbs ！ ✶ 𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦 4 nonie ◜ ᴗ ◝

HEESEUNG

when he decided to take you out for lunch, he didn’t think that—at some point— his heartbeat would halt for a split second. he enjoys his delicious meal during the entirety of the time: beyond glad that you appreciate it as well. savoring his food fully, the poor man is completely unaware of what you are planning.

he only nods when you say that you are going to make a video, for your friends and few followers to see the good food you are eating.

“hey, guys,” you greet the camera with a warm smile. “me and my current boyfriend—”

heeseung chokes on his food. the rest of your sentence falls to deaf ears and he is absolutely quick to answer, “what?” he won’t lie, his heart kind of aches but the way you laugh makes him do the same, “babe, what does that mean?”

you shrug, “well, you are my boyfriend currently, no?”

“and for a long while,” he laughs quietly, hand on his heart and voice, honest to god, shaking. “please, don’t try to kill me.”

JAY

he is always fond of the way you film everything that happens in your daily life. from your get ready with me to your vlogs with him— he loves how you keep a digital souvenir of everything you experience. even more to be part of it.

when you asked him to teach you how to cook your favorite meal, he immediately accepted as he learned how to cook it from the first time you told him about it.

he is putting on his apron when you turn the camera off, “hey, lovelies,” he waves at the camera as you say that. “my current boyfriend—” huh. “and i are going to cook today!”

rolling up his sleeves, he furrows his eyebrows. he finds the calling a tad bit weird, but he isn’t bothered by it that much. he even starts to find it funny the more you keep saying it; smiling softly, nodding at your every sentence.

“jay,” you whine, beating his shoulder weakly. “why aren’t you reacting? current boyfriend? hello?”

jay flashes you a smirk, “it’s right, won’t i be your husband one day, hm?”

JAKE

“okay, the camera is on,” you affirm, taking a step back from your phone to stand next to your boyfriend. you check if you both if in the lens perfectly— so you can show your thoroughly matching outfits.

he is so enthusiastic. he big smile makes your cheeks hurt from how hard you are smiling as well— and a little bit in anticipation of what is coming for him.

“hey everyone, i’m here with my current boyfriend and we’re—” his smile drops immediately to leave the place to a grimace that makes you laugh. his face is too funny for you to continue your sentence.

“nah, i’m not doing all that,” jake says, leaving the room to aim for the kitchen. you let your laugh calm down before taking your phone and following him. appears he decided to go to the leaving room after pouring himself some soda.

you enter the room with bryson tiller echoing in there. he fakes a sob, whipping his imaginary tears as you film him, your giggles making the camera move.

SUNGHOON

it’s interesting to see, how well your routines blend together when you are both getting dolled up. without realizing, you do the same steps at the same time. sunghoon takes a break to kiss your neck at the right time. and at the end, everything about your outfit match— something that is always caught on camera.

“here is another video with my current boyfriend,” you start, his eyes already weighing on you. “we are going out tonight again!”

sunghoon’s silence takes you aback. you watch his reflection, in the mirror in front of you, closing his eyelids and taking a deep breath. he’s so strict, god, his ears become a little red.

his tongue poke his cheek when he opens his eyes again, directly staring at you. “oh, yeah?” his voice his hoarse, sending butterflies in the pit of your stomach. the tension risen with two words only and gets worse when he continues, “repeat that again for me, sweetheart.”

“…me and my boyfriend—”

he cracks a smile, you can breathe again, “that’s what i thought.”

SUNOO

you walk out of the cafe, your favorite drink in one of your hands as the other holds the camera. your boyfriend on your side holds your purse, adjusting his hair for the camera with unwavering focus.

“so, me and my current boyfriend,” his fingers stood in his hair. saying that he is taken aback is an understatement. his eyebrows furrow and slight disgust is written on his face. but he sees how you are holding back your laughter.

he gives you a look: you think you’re funny? then he huffs. he finishes to fix his hair like nothing happened, a smile that makes you shiver creeps on his face. he waits until you finish your sentence.

he looks cute yet scary when he puts his hands on your shoulders, “yes, me and my current girlfriend are now going to—”

you wish you could push him off of you but both of you hands are taken. “what the— hey, you can’t say that.”

sunoo’s pettiness disappears immediately at the sight of your lovely pout. sometimes, he wishes he was a stronger soldier, alas he is not. “okay, okay,” he kisses your temple. “i’m sorry, baby.”

JUNGWON

he lets you sit on his lap after you press record. his arms embraces your waist without him intentending too and he absentmindedly rests his chin on your shoulder.

he only puts one hand up when you put both of yours up. holding your waist seems mandatory to him— which is very cute.

“hi guys, today i’m here with my current boyfriend,” your words roll on your tongue like sweet honey. it takes him a while to get him out of his admiration of your voice and catch your words. “we are going to play out a finger down.”

jungwon’s eyebrows shot up before furrowing. he tilts his head to the side, staring at you with a half amused, half annoyed smile. you can hear him huff right next to your ear.

he cuts you in your sentence, “can you rate your current boyfriend out of ten?”

you laugh, “what?”

“you know, your current boyfriend,” he starts, empathizing the word that bothers him. “the one you are wearing the hoodie of and sitting on his laps— rate him out of ten.”

“mmh, definitely a ten.”

“yeah?” you nod, unable to wipe off your smile. “make him exclusive then.”

RIKI

he is no stranger to tik tok and it’s trend. he knew, from the second the first video popped on his feed, that he would soon be a victim of it. he spent a lot of time accepting his fate, preparing himself for when the moment would come, always waiting for his inevitable fate to come.

his heart starts beating faster when the recording starts. “welcome back! today i’m going to ask my current boyfriend and he’ll have to answer as quickly as possible.”

okay, perhaps he didn’t train his mind very well. he hated the juxtaposition of the two words together, to refer to him especially. he nods when you ask him if he’s ready, still in shock.

“okay so, current boyfriend,” he’s going to rip his hair off. “what is your favorite memory of us?”

he answers in a second, nonetheless, “when you kissed me back.”

“very smooth, current boyfriend,” you use it like it’s his petname. “what is your favorite thing about our relationship.”

“that i’m going to be your current boyfriend for a while until i,” his face goes red, but he can’t stop talking. you can barely hear, “put a ring on it…”

“what?”

분지 ܃ girls should be mean to their boyfriends more often 💌 stream d:u !

© 𝖮𝖪𝖶𝖮𝖭𝖸𝖮 ୨୧ 𝟐𝐎𝟐𝟓 ── taglist open 。

[heavenlybodies333]

Acting on your worst behavior -S.R part I here

Spencer Reid x Hotch’s daughter!reader

You’re late.

You’re shaking.

And you’re pissed off at the world in that way that only heartbreak can make you.

Your bag’s half-zipped, makeup tossed in without care, your outfit borderline inappropriate for the temperature but perfect for the frat house theme party you were headed to. Glitter on your collarbone, a gloss on your lips that wasn’t there fifteen minutes ago.

It’s been three weeks since Hotch forced it to end. Since Spencer stopped answering your texts. Since he started following the rules and you started breaking every single one you could.

Because fuck it, right? If you’re already going to hell, you might as well enjoy the way down.

Your crop top was too tight, your skirt too short, your pupils too blown to be sober. You hadn’t slept more than four hours total this week, and your body was running purely on adrenaline, prescription stimulants, and whatever trauma your daddy issues were metabolizing into fuel.

And speaking of…

You don’t even hear the door open—you’re too focused on digging your keys out of the bottom of your bag when you sense him behind you. You felt the soft pressure of a hand settle against your lower back. Familiar. Intimate. Unwelcome.

You jumped, turning around too fast, heart hammering.

Spencer.

Of course it was Spencer. He stood there, all unreadable intensity, curls still damp from the rain and his FBI windbreaker slung halfway up his forearm like he’d rushed over. Like he’d been worried.

You blinked at him, blood fizzing with panic and stimulants. “What the hell, Spence?” you snapped. “You scared me.”

“I didn’t mean to.” His voice was low, careful. His eyes scanned your face. “You okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m fine. I’m just late.”

He frowned, stepping closer. You took a step back.

“I’ve been calling you.”

“I’ve been busy.” You turned away from him, digging harder into your bag for your keys. “Maybe you should call your new academy girlfriend instead.”

There it was. He’d known when he agreed to go out for drinks with Prentiss and JJ that they were trying to get his mind off you and introduced him to an old colleague that she’d gone to training with.

He stiffened. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Yeah I bet.” You finally yanked your keys free, too hard. Something else flew with them—shit—a prescription bottle clattered to the floor between you.

You both froze. You dove for it, but he was faster. He picked it up and turned it over.

“No stop—” you reached, but he was already turning it over in his hand. His sharp eyes scanned the label in a flash, and then slowly, slowly lifted to yours.

His whole expression changed—concern melting into something furious. “Are you serious right now?”

“Give it back.” You reached for it. He held it out of your reach.

“This isn’t even your prescription—”

“Leave me alone.”

“This is Adderall.”

You tried to snatch the bottle from his hand. “Wow. What a genius deduction, Dr. Reid. Must be that PhD at work.”

“Where did you get it?”

“Why do you care?”

He stepped in closer. “Because you’re shaking.”

You barked a bitter laugh. “No shit. I’m running late.”

“You’re tweaking. Your pupils are huge and your hands won’t stop moving and you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“Jesus Christ, Spencer.” You yanked the bottle from his hand, shoving it back into your tote like a cornered animal. “Mind your own business.”

“You are my business,” he snapped. “Or did you forget that part when you decided to pop pills from some horny frat boy who probably thinks Cocaine is a cocktail garnish?”

You scoffed. “That’s rich, coming from the guy who fucked me in Quantico’s security camera blind spot and then ghosted because my dad told him to.”

Spencer’s mouth opened slightly. “That’s what this is about?”

“This is about everything,” you hissed. “You left me. He punished me. And now you’re back out there playing golden boy while I rot in fucking cold case hell and try to keep up with a double course load while my body’s falling apart—”

He grabbed your wrist.

“Look at me,” he said, voice softer now. “You don’t have to do this.”

Your eyes flashed. “Let go of me.”

“Not until you tell me what the hell’s going on with you. Because you’re not the girl I knew. And if this—” he motioned to the pills “—is how you’re coping, then I’m not letting it go.”

“I’m not yours anymore,” you snapped. “You made that very clear.”

“You’re taking someone else’s amphetamines,” he said flatly. “Do you have any idea—”

“I said drop it.”

His voice was low now. Dangerous. “How long?”

You didn’t answer.

He stepped forward, jaw tight, voice clenched like a fist. “How long have you been using?”

You glared at him. “I don’t owe you anything.”

He scoffed, eyes dark. “Bullshit. You owe me everything. I got thrown into that meeting with Strauss for you. I got suspended. I defended you. I loved you—”

“Oh, spare me,” you snapped. “You loved the idea of me. Until my dad gave the word and you folded like a fucking lawn chair.”

You avoided his eyes. Your heart was beating too fast. Every sound, every light felt sharp.

“How long?” He repeated, stepping closer, voice trembling with fury.

“Stop it, Spencer,” you muttered. “Just stop. You don’t get to care.”

His jaw locked, breath shallow. “Are you high right now?”

“No,” you lied. “I haven’t even taken one today.”

“Jesus Christ.” He raked a hand through his hair, stepping back like he couldn’t look at you without catching fire. “You’re lying to my face.”

“I’m still going to that party,” you say, voice breaking.

Spencer’s face twitched. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” You tilted your head. “Do what I want for once?”

“You’re high, you’re spiraling, and you’re trying to push me away so you don’t have to feel what you’re actually feeling.”

“No.” You stepped up to him, chest brushing his. “I’m trying to get to a fucking party. You remember what it’s like to have friends, don’t you?”

You grab your bag, shove past him, before pressing the elevator button as the doors ding open you say one last thing, “Don’t follow me, Dr. Reid.”

You’d managed to reapply your gloss with shaking hands in the car, snort a line in the driveway, and flirt your way through the front door of Kappa Psi like everything was fine.

But it wasn’t.

You were spiraling.

Even worse, you knew it—and you didn’t care.

Frat lights flickered in and out of focus. Someone shoved a Solo cup in your hand. You couldn’t remember who. You drank it anyway. Another pill got pressed into your palm. It wasn’t the usual blue you trusted. It was pink. Oval. Something you didn’t recognize.

You took it anyway.

Fifteen minutes later you were in an alley behind the frat house, curled into yourself with your back against the cold brick wall and your phone shaking in your hand. Everything was spinning—lights bleeding into your eyes, stomach turning over like it was trying to reject your entire existence.

You tried to dial someone else first—your roommate maybe? You weren’t even sure. You misdialed. Twice.

Then, like muscle memory, your thumb hovered over his name. Spencer Reid.

It rang once. Twice.

He picked up immediately.

“Hello?”

You couldn’t speak. Not at first. You were crying, but you couldn’t feel the tears. Your teeth chattered as you opened your mouth and tried to say his name, but it came out broken.

“Hey—hey, slow down.” Spencer’s voice was tight, urgent. “Where are you? What’s happening?”

You could hear him moving, grabbing keys, door slamming.

“S’cold,” you slurred, chest hiccuping. “I—I think I messed up, Spence—”

“You’re okay,” he said, voice shaking now. “But I need you to tell me what you took. Did you take something new? What was it?”

“I don’t know—somebody gave it to me—said it was fine—I didn’t know, I didn’t—”

You dropped the phone. It clattered onto the pavement as you leaned forward and threw up violently, hands scraping at the rough ground. You coughed, heaved, vision swimming.

He was already in the car, his phone running the trace Garcia had sent to him—last known ping, three blocks behind Sigma Chi, the back side of the fraternity garage cluster that faced the woods.

He didn’t breathe right the whole ride.

Didn’t think—because if he thought, he’d see the worst: you unconscious in a gutter, your pulse weak, a toxicology report that ended careers and broke your father’s soul.

He skidded to a stop when he reached the alley.

His headlights caught the outline of a slumped figure just beyond the garage.

You.

You were collapsed on your side, your dress riding high on your thigh, knees scraped from falling, your arms braced against the concrete as you tried—and failed—to keep yourself from heaving again.

“Jesus,” he whispered, throwing the car into park and sprinting.

“Hey—hey, I’m here,” he said, hand trembling as it swept your hair from your face. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Your head lolled toward the sound of him, tears shining down your cheeks.

“S-Spence,” you croaked, voice raw. “Wasn’t mine. It was… pink. M’stupid. M’sorry—””

“Shh.” His hand cupped your cheek, feeling your skin clammy, your pulse fluttering in your neck like a dying bird. “No apologies. Just breathe for me.”

You gagged again, body trembling with the withdrawal crash—your nervous system overloaded from the Adderall, the Valium trying to slow it, whatever the hell someone slipped into your cup pulling the strings in every wrong direction.

Spencer steadied your shoulders as you retched, rubbing your back with long, slow strokes with one hand while fumbling for his phone with the other.

“I need a bus to west block 3200,” he said into the speaker. “Twenty-two-year-old female. Drug interaction. Unclear substance. Not stable. Yes—I’ll keep her conscious.”

Your fingers clutched his jacket like a lifeline. He swore under his breath as he looked at you—your dilated pupils, your dry lips, your too-quiet whimpers.

“What the hell are you doing to yourself?” he whispered into your hair. “Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

The ambulance showed up fast, too fast for Spencer to process what it meant—how serious this was, how you could’ve died if he hadn’t picked up, if you hadn’t called him at all. They got you on a stretcher with practiced ease, medics asking rapid-fire questions he barely heard over the roaring in his ears.

What did she take?

How much?

How long ago?

As they lifted you into the back of the ambulance, your hand briefly caught his wrist, weak and cold.

“Don’t leave,” you murmured, barely audible.

“I’m not,” he said, climbing in beside you. “I’ve got you.”

He held your hand the entire ride to Dale City Hospital.

And then, when the doors opened, reality came rushing in—gurney wheels rattling across linoleum, beeping machines, harsh fluorescents. Nurses asking for your name, your ID, your emergency contact.

Spencer swallowed hard.

Hotch.

He stepped into the quietest corner he could find and pulled out his phone. His fingers hovered, then pressed call.

Hotch answered on the second ring.

“Reid?”

Spencer exhaled shakily. “She’s at Dale City General. She was drugged. There was… more going on than I thought. A lot more.”

Reid could hear Hotch taking a deep breath trying to control his temper, “How bad?”

“She’s unconscious. Breathing, stable for now, but she’s—she was high on multiple substances. Some she didn’t even know she took.”

The silence on the other end was brutal. Then: “I’m on my way.”

Spencer didn’t move for a long moment after the call ended. He just stared down at the tiled floor, jaw clenched, hand still faintly shaking.

Within twenty minutes, the team was there. Hotch arrived first, face grim, then Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ trailing behind him. The sight of them hit like a cold wave. Spencer stood when he saw Hotch approach the nurses’ station, asking for your name in a voice tight with rage.

“They’re still pumping her stomach,” Spencer offered quietly. “She was in the alley behind the frat garages. It looked like she took ecstasy, probably some downers, and she’s still detoxing off amphetamines. Maybe benzos too. She’s been… hiding it.”

Hotch’s jaw ticked. “Where are her things?”

Spencer blinked. “They… they brought it in with her.”

Hotch was already walking toward the nurses' station.

JJ reached for his arm. “Aaron—”

He didn’t stop. “I need my daughter’s belongings. Her name’s on the record.”

The nurse looked at him warily, but one look at his badge—SSA Hotchner—was all it took. She returned with a large clear plastic evidence-style bag.

He took it without a word and moved to the side, his team trailing behind. He unzipped it.

Silence.

Inside: a tangle of makeup, loose change, a cracked phone.

And the pills.

Not bottles. Baggies. Not just Adderall. Coke. Valium. A pressed pill that looked like MDMA. Xanax bars. Something in blister packs without a label.

Morgan’s jaw locked. “Jesus.”

Hotch’s fingers closed around the baggies like they might shatter in his grip.

“You’ve gotta stay calm,” Morgan said gently, stepping in. “She’s not going to get better if you lose it now.”

Hotch’s voice was razor-edged. “She’s twenty-two.”

“I know.”

“She could’ve died.”

“I know.”

He turned to Spencer, eyes dark. “Did you know?”

Spencer’s face was raw. “Not like this. I—I found one prescription bottle earlier tonight. I confronted her. She lied. I followed her to the party—she called me crying from an alley and I couldn’t even understand her.”

Hotch stared at him, rage and heartbreak flashing in his eyes. “So you knew. You knew, and you let her walk away.”

“I tried to stop her.”

“You should’ve called me then.”

“I didn’t think she’d—” Spencer caught himself. “I’m sorry.”

Hotch shook his head slowly, mouth set in a grim line. Spencer opened his mouth. Closed it. “I didn’t know it was this bad. I—I knew she was struggling, but I thought it was just the Adderall.”

Hotch’s voice dropped, low and furious. “You thought.”

“She lied to me too, Aaron,” Spencer snapped back. “I found a prescription bottle tonight that wasn’t hers and tried to stop her from going out, but she wouldn’t listen. She ran.”

“She ran because she’s scared,” JJ said gently, stepping between them. “Because everything in her life feels like it’s falling apart. And I know you’re angry, Hotch, but—”

Hotch said nothing more. He sat down in the waiting room chair, your bag of evidence still in his hands, like he couldn’t let go of it until you answered for it.

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was how dry your throat felt—raw, stripped of moisture. You blinked into harsh hospital light, trying to orient yourself. Your tongue felt thick. Your stomach roiled.

And then, like a curtain pulling back, you saw him.

Your dad.

In the chair beside the bed, elbows on knees, his expression unreadable.

You groaned, immediately dragging the blanket over your head.

“Fuck.”

“Save it,” he said. His voice didn’t rise. That somehow made it worse.

You swallowed hard. Your hands trembled in your lap.

“I don’t remember much,” you rasped.

“That’s the problem.”

Silence.

You peeked at him through your lashes. “Are you mad?”

“No,” Hotch said tightly. “I’m furious.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Where’s my bag?”

He didn’t answer.

That was your answer.

Your stomach dropped like a stone.

“Oh my god.”

He stood and slowly approached the bed, pulling something from the chair behind him.

The clear bag.

The pills.

You turned your face away in shame.

“Do you want to explain this?” he asked, holding it up.

“No.”

“You’re going to,” he said. “You’re going to explain all of it. Why I had to get a call from Reid in the middle of the night saying you were unconscious behind a goddamn frat house. Why I had to watch a nurse hand me a bag full of narcotics with my daughter’s name on it.”

You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t mean to?”

“I didn’t know what it was—”

“But the rest of it? The coke? The benzos? The Adderall that isn’t even prescribed to you?” He held the bag tighter. “You didn’t ‘mean’ that either?”

You bit the inside of your cheek until you tasted blood.

Hotch stepped closer. “You could’ve died.”

“I know.”

“No. I don’t think you do. You have no idea what that would’ve done to me. To Jack. To Spencer.”

He stared down at you, jaw flexing. “You’re going to get help. You don’t have a choice.”

You swallowed hard, blinking back fresh tears. “And if I say no?”

He didn’t blink. “Then you don’t go back to school. You don’t go back to Quantico. You don’t go anywhere but rehab. Understood?”

You didn’t answer.

He dropped the bag back onto the tray with a hard thud and walked to the door.

“You’re lucky to be alive.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

And you lay there, eyes burning, heart hammering against your ribs, alone in the silence of your consequences. And from knowing that maybe this time… you went too far.

a/n: I’m in therapy y’all this is just how I cope plz don’t b alarmed😭

⋆•★⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆★•⋆

[guppiechuu]

irresistible s.j. ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ (my little gift to you, yay for 100 followers!!)

length: 1.4k

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, light masturbation

synopsis: in which your boyfriend, jake, struggles to pay attention to what you're saying, too distracted by how cute you look getting ready for bed.

——

Jake was trying to listen to you. Honest.

He was trying to focus on the words that were tumbling out of your mouth, a long winded description of your day and who you’d run into at the store and how annoying your friends could be and where you wanted to go over the weekend with him.

But you were prancing around in your pjs, thighs exposed under your little pink shorts, midriff peeking out every time you reached up to hang something back up in your closet.

He’d been waiting patiently for you to come home, sprawled in your bed scrolling on his phone for what felt like hours. He wasn’t even thinking about fucking you, but somehow he’d ended up with a hard-on anyways.

It wasn’t his fault. Your sheets were all soft and smelled like you, the corners bunched from where you’d grabbed them last night. Mixed in was the smell of his cologne, and the lotion you always used. The smell of both of you mingled together drove him crazy, sparking a build of pressure in his stomach.

It was like your room was designed to turn him on.

The miniskirt you’d worn out with him was hanging off the side of your hamper, wrinkled from his grip on your thighs. Your dresser drawer was half open, the one where you kept your vibrator hidden under your underwear. He could see the pink silicone poking out over the edge.

What had started as a half-hearted absentminded touch—just to ease the tension building beneath his sweats—had become a full on over-the-pants rub out. You wouldn’t be home for a little while longer, and you’d be tired from your day. If he could just take care of that gnawing ache beneath his boxers, he’d be able to drift off happily to sleep with you in his arms.

Well, you got home sooner than he’d expected.

“Jake?” You called, your footsteps echoing up the stairs towards your room.

Jake pulled his hand away from his groin, looking up as you came through your door, already exploding into your daily debrief for him.

“You were totally right. The sale ended yesterday.” You pouted. “I stopped by on my way home and everything was back to full price. I’m such a dummy, I should’ve gone last weekend like you said.”

“That’s alright baby,” He said, slightly breathless. His mind was scrambling to return to normal. “I’ll take you next weekend. I can pay, I don’t mind.”

You gave him a shy smile, bending over your bed to give him a kiss to the corner of his mouth. His stomach fluttered, the persistent ache beneath his boxers still there.

You got on with your nightly routine: changing out of your clothes, slipping into the pajamas laid out on your chair. You put your hair up as you spoke, missing a few strands that curled down the nape of your neck.

Jake was going crazy.

He bit his lip as you talked, nodding along to everything you were saying, trying to listen to every word. But he was just so damn into you—it was chemical at this point.

Just the smell of you on your sheets had him in a heated rut, and now you were there in front of him, soft-skinned and basically half-naked.

“Jungwon and Sunoo are going out for dinner on Friday. Do you think we can go?”

“Mm, yeah,” He said absentmindedly, watching the way your back curved under the waistband of your shorts. He shifted slightly, aching for you under his pants.

“Don’t you have solo practice that evening?”

“Hm?”

“Friday. I thought you reserved a studio for that night.”

“Oh, yeah. I did.”

Did what? Jake could hardly focus.

You weren’t oblivious to the way he was adjusting on your bed, his hand going to rest over his crotch nonchalantly. He’d always had a bad poker face.

When your boyfriend wanted you, there was no way to hide it.

“Are you okay?” You half-laughed, watching as he palmed himself slightly through his sweats.

“Mhm,” He said, still not fully paying attention. His hips jutted slightly, chasing the friction of his hand.

“Jakey,” You murmured, raising an eyebrow at him.

He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry, baby. I’m listening, I swear.”

You narrowed your eyes at him but went on, talking about which restaurants Sunoo had suggested. But it was obvious Jake’s mind was elsewhere.

He kept shifting where he sat, not-so-subtly pressing his hips up into his hand, eyes tracking you wherever you moved. He was getting more and more flustered—dragging his hand through his hair, tugging on the neck of his hoodie, chewing on his lip until you thought it might actually bleed.

“What’s up with you?” You laughed. “It’s like you’re ovulating or something.”

He smiled, lip between his teeth. “You’re way too hot. It’s fucked up.”

“I’m glad to know the pajama look is doing it for you, weirdo.”

Oh, but it was. Your cute little ass and the squish of your thighs, all on display for him to see. He wanted to devour you right then and there, put his lips all over your body, taste every inch of you.

“You’re the one parading around in those little shorts,” He protested. “It’s not fair.”

“It’s not? I could always… take them off, if they’re bothering you that much?” Your eyes glinted playfully and Jake’s dick throbbed, aching.

He groaned as you hooked your fingers over them, sliding them all the way down your legs and kicking them to the side.

“Baaabe, that’s not fair,” He whined, falling over to bury his face in your comforter. “You’re being mean.”

“You’re the one not listening to anything I’m saying,” You teased.

Jake felt the edge of the bed dip down and he peeked out from the corner of his eye. You’d pulled your shirt off too, tits exposed, stomach bare. The torturous, tantalizing way you preferred to sleep. He cursed under his breath.

“Missed you today,” You said, climbing on top of him.

He rolled under you, flat on his back, as your legs went on either side of his waist. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He lifted his head up as you leaned down to kiss him again, his hands flat on your ass. Fuck, he loved your body. The weight of you on his groin sent a shiver of pleasure up his stomach.

“Y/n,” He protested as you leaned back, grinding your hips down on him.

“What, you don’t want it?”

“Aren’t you tired, baby? You’ve been up all day.”

You shook your head, grabbing onto his shoulders as he sat up beneath you. “Come on, you know me, Jakey. Can’t fall asleep unless I feel you.”

And you felt him alright. The fabric of his sweats were thin—you could feel how stiff he was, dick rubbing deliciously against your core which was getting wetter by the second.

He groaned again as you sped up, hips working beneath his hands. He grabbed ahold of your waist and flipped you both over, digging his hips down into yours as he opened his mouth against you.

“Feels so good, baby,” He said against your lips.

Your underwear was slick, wetting the front of his pants. He didn’t give a fuck. All he cared about was keeping his cock wedged between your folds, chasing the pressure that was building in his stomach.

“Jake,” You panted, reaching out to pull his sweats and boxers down.

He put a hand between your legs, pushing your soaked underwear to the side and pressing his dick up against you, skin to skin.

“Fuck,” He moaned, shivering at how wet and hot you were for him.

“Fuck me?” You asked, pushing your hips up into him.

He obliged, sliding himself inside you until he was buried to the hilt. You stretched around him perfectly, your walls all soft and soaked for him.

It was a quick fuck. He rutted into you, holding your hips down with a ringed hand as his body stuttered, the release of pent-up tension blurring his thoughts momentarily.

You moaned into his mouth while you came, your legs wrapped around his waist to hold him in closer, deeper. His body shook, hips jutting into yours as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, your name spilling from his mouth.

He curled his hips into yours as you both came down, a thin layer of sweat gracing both your faces. Jake was breathing heavily, planting kisses all over your face as you giggled beneath him.

“So.” Kiss.

“Fucking.” Kiss.

“Hot.” Kiss.

After, you curled into his chest in the dark, breathing in the warm smell of his skin.

“Night,” You mumbled into the base of his neck, pressed as close as one could possibly be.

“Good night, baby,” He yawned. “M’gonna fuck you again in the morning.”

You smiled against his throat. “Promise?” You said teasingly.

“On my life.”

——

⤷ chuu's 💌 ── .✦ hiiii guys thank you so so much for 100 followers!! I’ve said this before but I’m new to tumblr and really just wanted a place to put all my freaky thoughts without anyone irl finding me hehe ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

it makes me so happy when y’all interact with my writing and just warms my heart so much that people like reading my stuff idk idk I’m blushing just thinking about it (>⩊<)

enjoy this quick little oneshot that my roommate actually inspired (thanks bestie). I hope I can keep writing stuff that yall enjoy!!! have a great day :3 .☘︎ ݁˖

[ybklix]

𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

۶ৎ giving your boyfriend a gift that will help him in his long and lonely nights when you can’t be there for him. ⋆˚࿔ pairing: idol bf felix x fem reader

cw: mdni, smut, softdom felix, masturbation, fingering, teasing, overstimulation, sextape, sextoys, slight dirty talk, pet names, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, backshots, creampie.

wc: 7.3k

｡°❀ 🫧 into you by ariana grande ‧ꕤ.ﾟ🫧 good for you by selena gomez ｡°❀ 🫧pornstar by nessa barret ‧ꕤ.ﾟ🫧

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 .𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

wen’s note: im delulu rn, I love my man :3 !! sorry (a freshly cooked fic—that hasn’t been in the drafts for monthssss, enjoy) + im backkk yassss:)

It’s your last day. The last day the two of you will be together, physically, for a long time. In a few hours, very early in the morning, you will take a flight back ‘home’ —if you can call home wherever Felix isn’t with you— and you will feel nothing but sadness and emptiness. You just know that days are approaching when a video call with him is what keeps you happy.

Your love life with Felix is facing another challenge: overcoming the distance between you. You don’t usually complain much about it, as you don’t want to be a burden to Felix, constantly complaining how much you miss him when he has to go far away, doing what he is most passionate about in the world, you know how much it means to him to be on stage, so you shut up all the whims you think because of the huge need to have him next to you all the time. So sadly, it’s just your last day on your quick visit, and, as much as you’d like to be there for him, going from city to city, country to country on his tour, you both have your respective lives. It was so painful just thinking about when the next time you will be able to see him.

So, you just decide to enjoy every moment together, trying not to think about the cruel reality that is approaching. Tonight, you are about to go out, taking advantage of the fact that it’s Felix’s short break and his concert is tomorrow. So you’re getting all dolled up, trying a soft and subtle makeup, pretty enough to take pictures with your boyfriend and calm your hair as best as you can, while choosing a cute, modest and inconspicuous outfit, since you’ll be wearing a cap anyway, because you have to go incognito all the time with Felix, plus Seungmin and Jeongin would join your date, just to have them as the perfect excuse if someone recognizes your super star boyfriend, so their eyes would go to the super star trio and not you and Felix only.

Night is just falling, painting the sky a beautiful color and reflecting in the huge window of the hotel room. Felix is face down on the bed, using his brand-new cellphone, relaxed and happy, waiting for you to finish getting ready so he can call his friends and go out to explore the city.

“Wow, baby, the quality is insane.”

You hear Felix say, happy and excited, followed by the sheets shifting, indicating that he has stood up. You come out of the bathroom, with a smile as you put on your earrings and see your boyfriend, standing in front of the large window filming the view with his cell phone.

“Really? Let me see, love” you reply, moving closer to him.

As soon as Felix hears your voice and senses your presence, he turns his body with a tender smile and records you approaching him. Felix seems to be happy with the gift of his new cell phone, which he made a whole advertising campaign for. He records you standing in front of him for a few seconds, and then turns his body with his device towards the cityscape behind the window. You crane your neck to see the screen, but you turn your attention away when you see how cute your boyfriend looks, his tender smile and his carefree no-makeup look perfectly highlighting the smoothness of his skin with his visible freckles. You said nothing more than a simple:

“I’m almost ready… just let me put on my setting spray and gloss. You can call Seungmin and Jeongin already if you want.”

Felix keeps recording, motioning his arm gently, he gives you a quick glance along with a smile as a sign that he heard you, and you walk to complete your look so you can stroll with your boyfriend, one night before you leave and not see him for a month.

“Oh, almost forgot!” Felix exclaims, he stops recording and puts the cell phone back in his pocket quickly; you turn to look at him, confused since he got your attention. “I’ll help you pack so you don’t come from the date doing it.”

“Oh, Felix, you don’t have to…” you comment sweetly, touched that he feels he has to help you with everything.

He doesn’t listen to you, and you watch him tenderly take from one of the bedroom chairs the Louis Vuitton travel bag in its classic, signature print that he gifted you, and places it on the bed.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, sweetheart. Go finish getting ready, I’ll help you with this real quick.”

You chuckle softly, and in less than two minutes, you’re completely ready. You approach your boyfriend, playfully and plop down on the bed, close to him and your bag, as you watch him tenderly folding your clothes that were lying on the bed and arrange them inside the bag.

“I’m ready” you say, with a sigh.

The truth is, you don’t want the day to go on as it means it’s getting less and less time before you have to go and leave him.

“I’m almost done, princess. You look beautiful, by the way” he replies, focused on your clothes.

You let him do it because you know he’s a bit stubborn, and then he’d go and complain to you that you need to get your act together. You watch him, nonchalant, in no hurry for him to finish, staying with him like this, even in the silence, feels so good, so right, and calm.

Felix can’t help but blush, though, realizing that this is the fifth set of lingerie he’s had to pack for a trip you’ve only been with him for three days. So he jokes a little with you about it.

“Mmm… you kind of packed a lot of lingerie, don’t you think, princess? I’ve seen more pretty panties than blouses of yours.”

Felix raises his gaze, watching you with a playful, suggestive look and a mischievous smile as he carefully folds one of your blue panties, a part of the full set. You smile broadly, you can’t help it, still feeling a smoldering embarrassment with mischief.

“I know. I’m sorry… I didn’t know which one was the best, so I brought several options.”

“Whatever you wear looks beautiful on you” he whispers softly, causing heat to your cheeks.

Felix takes another pair of cheeky panties and spreads them out, teasing you with a smirk.

“Can I keep one?” his eyebrow twitches, cheekily.

“Felix!” you laughed, your eyes widening in surprise and playfully snatching the garment from him to drop it into your purse, your cheeks burning hot, as if he hadn’t seen all of you before. “The boys are going to think they’re your panties... but it’s okay, you can keep them, you’re the one who buys them for me, anyway.” You tilt your head, “Do you want something sweet to remember me?” you joke, teasing him.

He laughs, licking his lips, staring at you as he instinctively bites his bottom lip. “Which one will you wear tonight for me, huh? You have plenty of options, doll…. You should have modeled all your options for me, I’d have loved to see that.”

His voice sounds rough, a confession somewhere between a joke and a tone of absolute truth. You know perfectly well how much he loves to dress you in pretty lingerie, tease you in it and then end up naked, or just fucking you with it on. Felix stops his action, waiting for a response from you, but with the intensity of his gaze, you were already short of breath. There is a feigned innocence in his sweet face that contrasts with that look and soft grin you know so well. He is trying to start something.

“I can do it tonight… but can you handle it?” you raise your eyebrows, subtly teasing him further.

Your intentions are not to start something sexual just now, you were just about to go out on the town… two of his best friends are waiting to be given the signal to go out the four of you… but the way he smiles, superficially running the tip of his tongue across his lips to then catch his muscle between his teeth, is giving you another kind of impression... A subtle, cheeky, kind of dirty impression.

He looks at you for a few seconds, doesn’t respond, and lowers his gaze back to your clean clothes, ready to pack, and that’s when you notice his true intention.

“Oh look at this one, it’s too pretty, why didn’t you wear it for me?”

Felix changes the subject, still using his flirtatious and suggestive tone. You watch his hands take from the small pile of clothes a tiny piece of clothing, a white thong so sheer it covered practically nothing and, he subtly shows it to you.

You feel warmth in your cheeks again. Somehow you find it slightly embarrassing when he shows it to you like this, so suddenly. But what’s slowly ruining it for you is knowing exactly what your boyfriend wanted.

“Although I confess… there’s not much to wear with this so small” he laughs, examining the garment.

You watch your boyfriend’s face, his gaze lingering on that garment you packed when you thought of him, when you thought of all the nights you couldn’t be together and how much you wanted to make up for all that time. The shame leaves your body as you notice how obviously excited Felix is now, you know him so well, despite him wearing an oversized shirt, you can notice so clearly the change in his breathing, the change in his gaze, his more serious expression.

He looks back at you, almost guilty that his thoughts have been discovered and you find his reaction adorable, quickly looking away from you and sighing subtly in halting breath as he puts the thong in your bag, pretending nothing happened.

You examine him. The silence speaks for itself, in a way it’s loaded with adorable tension, because you love him too much, because you know what he wants but you both don’t know how to say it… at least the first few seconds. You smile happily, thinking it’s cute that he’s most likely already hard from just imagining you in that little garment… and you find it ridiculous… because Felix had you right there, now, in front of him, willing and madly in love with him, if your boyfriend wants to fuck you right now, he can. Now, while he still can.

“Felix” you call his name softly.

Now you’re the one looking at him intently.

“Mhumm?” he hums softly, unable to look you in the eye.

It’s true. You know him so well. Felix is terribly and helplessly aroused. Just with the power of his thought, with your closeness, with the intoxicating smell of your perfume that drives him crazy… at the same time he is just as, if not more, sad than you as he tries to pretend that everything is fine, but he is going to miss you deeply. Not seeing you until further notice… until you both can match… is killing him alive.

“You want me to wear it… for you?”

“Wear what, my love?” he pretends not to know, but his erection grows each time in his pants.

He doesn’t know what he’s thinking clearly… maybe that he’ll just get over the feeling, that he’ll be fine and have you all to himself after your nice date. But who is he fooling, he is never casual about you, neither takes you lightly. You on the other hand, know exactly what state his body and mind is in… but you can’t confirm it due to the bag blocking your view of his bulge a bit.

“The… thong you said was pretty.”

You feel slightly embarrassed. You find the word thong immaturely amusing.

Felix dares to look at you, notices the seriousness of your face, your cheeks slightly pink naturally beyond the blush you’re wearing. So what if you both want it? He’s your boyfriend and can tell you anything with confidence. Still, he responds demurely:

“Yes, when we come from the date. You’ll look beautiful in it.”

Felix flashes a smile and remains determined to finish your travel bag. You find it nerve-wracking, for a few seconds, as you’re getting impatient… and slightly horny at the thought of tasting your boyfriend right now, right there.

“Are you okay?” you ask more curtly.

He nods, making a nonchalant grimace. You can’t believe it.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Your smile widens, more brazenly. You don’t know if he’s tentatively playing with you, faking that innocence so he can get closer to you.. either way, it’s already starting, you can feel it in the air, it’s undeniable, deep and tangible.

“Because I think you got so worked up from just imagining me in those panties… do you want me to wear them for you, right now, baby?” you drop, slowly and seductively.

A sultry voice and piercing gaze that made Felix shudder and swallow nervously. Felix’s breath shortens, and his world stops for a second, and the silence speaks for itself once again. No matter how many times he makes you his, each time it impresses him and sends his feelings into overdrive as if it’s the first time he’s going to touch you; he adores you with that intensity.

“C’mon, baby, you know you can take me right now if you want. I’m always ready for you” you almost beg.

The corners of his lips quiver at your confession, trying to contain a flirtatious, nervous smile of utter glee. This time, he’s really playing with you as he says more confidently, trying to keep his sanity.

“No, love… I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m fine.”

You raise your eyebrows, incredulous, inviting him to keep challenging you.

“Oh yeah? Then stop that and call Seungmin and Jeongin already to leave, now” you mention, more impatient, challenging him.

Felix runs his tongue along the inside of his cheeks, amused, finding it amusing the way you’ve figured him out, that you’ve won, that you know exactly his next move, it’s obvious he can’t do it, he has an uncontrollable erection caused by you. You take your garments from his hand, approaching him slowly and dangerously, finally pushing aside the bag, in effect revealing the noticeable bulge in his shorts.

You smirk nervously, watching his notorious erection and then directing your gaze until you fix it on his eyes, his nice, dark, big eyes, changing in seconds, from soft domination, to needing to be touched.

You move closer to him without standing completely, dragging your bottom across the bed until you are finally facing him, his vulnerable aroused body, his bulge in front of you, begging for your strokes and attention, causing in you the sweet throbbing of your sex, your body rushing rapidly, heart pounding, breath hitching and the sublime, dominating sight of your aroused boyfriend clouding your judgment, your judgment to keep your temper.

“Well… you’re indeed fine…” you look down at his bulge brazenly and return your submissive eyes to him, your mouth salivating loudly, “But what kind of girlfriend would I be if I don’t take care of my needy boyfriend?”

He gives you a half smile and strokes your hair with his right hand gently. You place your hands on either side of his thighs and bring your face close to his body, close enough to brush against his erection, teasing him, tensing him, raising your gaze to convey to him through your gaze all that you may be capable of right now. You maintain eye contact, your body squeezes his erection tighter, causing him to bite his lip hotly, holding in a moan… You are both being painfully patient with each other; it kills you in a way that is both ardent and pleasurable at the same time. His grip on your hair becomes more consistent, heavy, and intense. You let your chin rest on his abdomen and your hands seek to caress his thighs, finding the feel of his cell phone in his pockets. You’re so fucking turned on that anything slightly incoherent would come up in your mind.

You smile mischievously, in the way only Felix knows, in the way that brings out your deepest, hottest side that he knows as a map by heart. You pull away from him, grab his cell phone out of his pocket suddenly and wiggle it in your hand; your boyfriend looks at you in confusion. Felix knows you so well that, in his voice exquisitely thicker, and excited, than usual, he murmurs a soft,

“What’s on your mind, my pretty baby?”

He watches you from above, gently lowering his head to look at you because of your angle. You find him so fucking attractive, every faction of his face, of his agitated body trying to appear to be at ease, you suddenly needing him so badly that you could suck him off right there, suffice it to just pull down his shorts and underwear. But no, your heat was so intense that, with intense joy, your boyfriend’s new cell phone in hand, your core throbbing and your heart pounding with aggression, you said almost passionately:

“Is the quality that good?” Felix squints his eyes, inviting you to continue, still not fully understanding your idea, but extremely immersed and excited at whatever it is. “Why… don’t you put it to the test one more time…. By recording something so exclusive to you… Something to help you, Lix. Why don’t I give you something for when I’m not there for you? Who’s going to take care of you after all the euphoria you experienced on stage, huh? And you have to go back to your lonely, quiet hotel room...”

“Y/n…” he whispers, confused, breathless, almost in a soft moan, still letting himself be carried away by your words that sweetened and shivered every inch of him.

“Record me, Felix. Do it for the nights when we can’t be together.”

A sextape. The idea warms his virile, weak body wrapped in desire and love for you. Nudes… are a bit of a touchy subject, as you are somewhat paranoid, you live in fear that for some reason they might hack you, and Felix will be severely affected, you don’t even care if your nudes are exposed, it’s him you fear the most. So you’ve spent nights… long and lonely, when you’re away, living on phone sex, stimulating yourself only with his voice, remembering and imagining the feel of him, of the image of his body against yours.

Still, the idea worries Felix, that his reaction seems tender to you, because, despite being extremely horny and accepting at first without reneging, he had to make sure first, reflecting in his handsome face concern.

“A video? Princess, are you sure? Is that what you want?”

He knows how you approach a subject that the two of you have already touched on. But you nod deeply and submissively without taking your eyes off him.

“Just record me…. Lix, you don’t have to be on frame… It’s for when you get lonely and miss me.”

He sighs and seems to be slightly perplexed.

“Come on, Felix. Don’t you want to? Your body tells me otherwise...”

You begin to tease him, stroking his stiff cock over the thin fabric of his shorts. He moans, closes his eyes and nods. He needs you. Now.

“All right, princess. Let’s do this.”

Your face reflects soft victory. You leave his cell phone next to you on the bed and stand up abruptly, reaching into your purse for that little thong that caused this whole effect on both of you. Felix watches you, you are impatient, you act fast, so fast that you start undressing right in front of him. Felix blinks incredulously and in one swift movement, boldly and dirtyly grabs his phone, not wanting to miss a moment of what he is experiencing. His cock throbs hard, thinking in the future how painfully pleasurable it will be to masturbate to an obscene video of you, thinking of the dirty, exquisite fantasy that is this experience. He begins to videotape you, this time without shame, your clothes falling to the floor. Both sexes beg desperately to be touched and the silence of the room is so tense that you feel that your loud heartbeat can be heard, that was the disturbingly exciting thing about the hotel rooms you spend so much time in with Felix, the silence, the distinct sound of your heavy breathing.

Felix licks his lips, losing himself in the image of his phone capturing your body, then watching you. He sighs again, half-heartedly.

“Can I… at least talk?” he says. “If I’m not going to be fully part… if this ever comes out… can I say my voice is AI?”

You giggle. “Of course you can talk… this video is completely just for you.”

You look into the camera and then straight into your boyfriend’s eyes. Felix is disturbingly horny, impatient, but something in his expression expresses that he can resist, that he’s enjoying all of this more than anything.

You take off your blouse, the pants you were a little sick of because you couldn’t wear a skirt or a nice dress, since you were incognito. You stay in your underwear and appreciate the concentrated expression on Felix’s face.

“Baby, you’re beautiful. Let me capture absolutely everything I have to remember while I’m on tour…”

His voice is husky, needy. He directs his phone’s camera first to your face. Capturing every soft angle of your pretty face. You giggle somewhat nervously and shyly… and then, the show finally begins, Felix slowly lowers his cell phone, recording your breasts, your abdomen, your panties. He gasps again, feeling more and more excited and desperate, which as proof is the sensation of his guilty precum staining his underwear. You are everything to him.

He can’t help himself and with his free hand he begins to caress you delicately, to squeeze your waist, to caress your ass, to subtly turn you over to get the perfect shot of how very lovely and round it looks.

“I’m going to wear… the panties you want” you whisper.

Felix stops touching you, and you quickly pull off your panties, making him audibly sigh. Your breasts look better in person than the quality of his cell phone; still, on both sides, he loves them. You pull down your panties carefully, slowly, and seductively, feeling your temperature rise, you are incredibly aroused, and at this point, you regret a little bit to propose between you a game of seduction, patience, and provocation.

Your boyfriend keeps biting his lips hard, feeling the great need to gasp every time you tease him more and more. He shamelessly records your panties going down your legs, of the thin fabric slowly clearing from your vaginal lips and finally, the soft and cute shot of your mons pubis, slowly zooming out to get the great shot of your naked body, for him and him alone.

“Fuck, baby… I don’t know if I can resist anymore. Let’s do a porno at this point” Felix teases, each word lower than the other, clearly altered in desire.

You chuckle. “You’re cute.”

You continue with your thing, with the original plan to tease your boyfriend and drive him to madness, but this is proving extremely difficult for you too; you need him badly too. Still, you slowly put on yourself the tiny little garment that Felix fantasized about from the second he saw it.

He is breathless. You moan softly, the new underwear starts to tease your pussy and cling hotly to your ass. The tiny thong fits you even better than he would have imagined, the sheer fabric barely even covers your pubic area, the triangle figure is so small… it’s such a damn provocative and useless garment.

“You like it?” you question, proudly.

“I love it” he confesses with a piercing gaze into yours. “Now… lie down, darling… show me how wet you are for me. What are you going to do, my naughty little girl?”

You bite your lip. Felix’s gentle dominance drives you uncontrollably crazy. He apparently adapted quickly to the purpose of your idea. You obey him at once, lying your body comfortably on the bed. He follows your movements, crawling onto the bed next to you on his knees.

“I’m… I’m going to touch myself for you.”

You are helplessly aroused, lying back on the bed. You fondle your breasts, flex your knees and finally spread your legs, letting out a soft moan on the spot. Felix records your soft breasts, your hands playing nervously with them and moves down to your juicy lips, your labia glossy, lightly stimulated, your throbbing sex exposed.

“Fuck” Felix grunts, aggressively stroking his cock, adjusting himself a little. “Oh yeah? What do you think about when you touch yourself like that, princess?”

His rough voice turns you on even more, and his lustful gaze almost makes you tremble. Your fingers slowly slide down your skin until they reach your pussy. Felix begins to be possessed by his role: recording every single detail of your dripping pussy, every tremor of your body, he is fascinated.

You play with your clit, your middle finger tracing the thin fabric of your panties, you wiggle your pelvis and moan softly. You’re so horny, so surrendered, you’re completely his.

“Tell me, tell me, how does it feel, oh, look at you, you’re so fucking wet, all that pretty pussy for me... do your fingers feel as good as mine?” Felix continues, his phone capturing every moment of your docile, weak but energetically aroused reclining body.

You begin to tremble with pleasure, with nervousness, and it’s even difficult to speak.

“Mmmm, it feels so good... but not as good as you...” you pant, circling your clit, gently moving your legs.

“Oh yeah? Are you going to miss me, baby? How much, huh? How much are you going to miss me, sweetheart?”

You nod. Your fingers begin to slide down your folds, losing themselves in their warmth and wetness. There is something so obscene about the way your sweet boyfriend mercilessly records you, his impatience and constant licking of his lips, wanting you. His stiff member is slowly bothering him.

“A lot, Felix, a lot... I'm gonna miss you a lot...”

“Is this how you touch yourself when I’m not with you, baby? Show me how you do it, you can’t stop thinking about me?”

You shake your head. You find it funny, the way you suggested the idea, how you started teasing him, but now he’s the one pushing you to the limit. You tease yourself more, touching your weak spots that you know make you tremble, but the sensations are a thousand times better and more intense when your boyfriend does it. You tempt your entrance, arching your pelvis, wanting to insert your fingers inside you. Felix is breathing heavily, and you’re almost certain that his need can be heard even through his cell phone.

Finally, you slip your hand inside the small piece of fabric covering your pussy and while you play with your breasts, your nipples erect from the touch of your other hand, with the other you caress with painful patience the skin of your pubis, your clit, your juicy labia, all of which is killing you.

“Oh, yeah. Just like that, baby. Stick two fingers inside you... touch yourself for me, do it, imagine it’s me filling you up...”

You obey instantly and whimper, letting out a sigh as you feel your fingers slide easily into your entrance. You feel your tightness, the length of your fingers teasing you but not filling you completely the way Felix’s cock does.

You gasp, slowly thrusting to increase your rhythm, moving your hips, desperately caressing your clit with your other hand. Felix notices and speaks again, his voice so dark that he sounds like a damn villain about to destroy you, yet there is a certain playfulness in his tone:

“Look at you acting like this, so desperate, baby... you’re not being gentle with yourself at all. Is this how you want me to fuck you? Do you imagine me fucking you hard?”

Felix refrains from touching you. His hands begin to tremble, he has a voracious hunger for you that he has never felt before, his cock begins to come to life, throbbing to the rhythm of your violent thrusts with your fingers in your stimulated entrance.

“F-Felix...” you whimper, dragging out your words, biting your lip and looking him straight in the eyes the whole time.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, you gasp in desperation and... he seems to be there, sadistically enjoying the show. At this point, Felix himself is surprised at his resistance, at not cumming right there just by looking at you, but one thing is certain, his genitals are so fucking sensitive from not being stimulated at all, and he was going to take that out on you in due course... in the meantime:

“Use your words, baby, tell me anything. Remember that this video is for when I’m alone, missing you.”

“Fuck, Felix. I want you to fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me, please be here with me. Mmm...”

“You’re going to miss my cock, aren’t you, you little cunt? If only you could see yourself now, so needy, making a mess on the fucking hotel bed, you’re a very, very bad girl, princess.”

His accent becomes thicker and more defined, his desperation speaks for itself as he begins to sound aggressive with you, no longer soft, no more purring and sizzling teasing tone. He is being demanding with you now.

You wanted to ask him to touch you. Your fingers are quick, your caresses soft, but nothing like him, you’re so close and yet so far away. You have him there, watching you masturbate, his big bulge throbbing, his pupils dilating with fantasy. You were so needy that you even begged him in a gasp,

“Felix, please, touch me.”

He clicks his tongue, amused to see your body writhing in pleasure. He’s enjoying it to the fullest.

“No, no, no, sweetheart. I can’t be in the shot, don’t you remember? Just touch yourself for me, give your best show for when your boyfriend needs it most. Damn, you have no idea how much you turn me on, I’m going to jerk off so hard to this, baby” he groans.

“Do it, now, touch yourself,” you beg.

He smiles, showing his teeth, “You want to see my cock that badly, don’t you, hunny? You’re just a fucking little slut, you better cum on your fingers or I swear to God I’ll leave you like that. All fucking needy and horny for me. You started it, now you finish it.”

Your vision starts to blur, your pussy starts to sound obscenely wet, you bury your fingers deeper, but it’s not enough, it’s not him. It’s a real torture to have him in front of you and not be able to touch him.

“Then talk to me, talk to me more.”

He laughs. “Ha. I almost forgot how naughty you are, love. Of course, you have a thing for my voice.” He turns his phone away from you and leans dangerously close to your ear, his body hovering over yours, his soft shirt brushing against your bare chest, and whispers, his voice so seductively deep that it makes you tremble, “It turns you on, doesn’t it? Do you think you’ll cum faster if I talk dirty to you?”

You both maintain intense, penetrating eye contact. You’re so close, feeling this needy puts you in a state of mind where you want to surrender, where you want to cum; you wonder if you do... what can Felix give you, does he really plan on keeping his hard erection the whole time?

He pulls away from you.

“Come on, baby, I know you’re close, aren’t you? God, you don’t know how many times I fantasized about you touching yourself all those nights we had phone sex. Are you really this horny and slutty? Every time I tell you all the things I want to do to you... how I want to touch you and make you feel...”

Felix lets out an arrogant chuckle and gently caresses your clit. You react, sighing and tensing your body. You’re so sensitive, as if he’s pressed a button inside you.

“Do you want me to touch you, princess? Tell me what you want...”

You sigh and go back to working on your pussy with soft, delicate, slow movements... suddenly you feel a little embarrassed, being so sensitive to him. You swallow, and your throat is so dry and empty.

“Felix, I need you, please. You can touch me... Did you get a good video, already? Please, come here and make me cum.”

“Do you need me that much? I’m the only one who knows how to take good care of your little pussy. But I told you I’m not going to stop until you come for me,” he orders you harshly.

He raises his eyebrows mischievously, an idea popping into his head. You sigh, resigned to the fact that you’ll have to bring yourself to orgasm on your own, so that maybe he’ll touch you afterwards and take out his burning energy on you. But you watch as Felix leans over the nightstand next to the bed, opens the drawer, and pulls out the new vibrator he bought you, compact and very useful. Felix loves to make things hotter in bed, to have you wear lingerie, to use toys, everything to give you endless, long, intense pleasure.

“You wanna cum faster, baby girl?” he shows you the vibrator. “I bet you use it imagining that it’s me making you feel good when I’m not around.”

You don’t even have time to process it or respond when he turns on the toy and presses it hard against your already stimulated clit, having the obscene take of his hand using the sex toy on your used pussy. You whimper and instinctively close your legs, but he acts quickly, grabbing your knees to prevent you from doing so.

“Ah, ah,” he warns you, “Hold the vibrator and play with your pussy, baby.”

You look him in the eyes. Your makeup is a little smudged, your gaze pleads for mercy, it’s bright, and your eyes look slightly larger. You’re suffering, you’re enjoying it, and Felix is going crazy.

You take the toy and let it vibrate violently against your clit. The vibrations are exquisite, encompassing your entire wet vulva. You moan in pleasure, feeling so close. Felix quickly and tentatively runs two of his fingers over your pussy, dipping his fingers shallowly into your entrance, a reaction that makes you whimper even louder. He is mesmerized, consumed by flames, so damn spellbound by you and his immense need to have you that he attractively brings those two fingers to his mouth, licking them deliciously, tasting you a little. He moans and enjoys it, as if you were something so delicious. That action alone increases your horniness level.

“You always taste so fucking sweet. Just like that, baby, just like that,” he coos, “You’re doing so well, my good girl.”

You’re enjoying it, despite feeling his great absence, you let yourself go, you think you can reach an intense orgasm soon, after pushing yourself to the limit and overstimulating yourself... when suddenly you let out a big sigh as you see your boyfriend pull down his shorts and underwear, Felix’s cock pops out, wriggling, fully erect, so perfectly stimulated that its tip is bright pink. He whimpers and begins to rub his hard shaft. That’s when you prolong your orgasm a little longer, because every part of you needs him.

Your gaze is lost on his cock, on the roughness of his freshly shaved pubic area, small, faintly pigmented freckles visible on his skin that you already know by heart, on the softness of the skin of his cock, that vein that drives you crazy running along its length, his medium-sized hand moving up and down on it, masturbating gently.

“Hey, eyes on me, you little slut,” he orders you, bringing you out of your trance and back to maintaining eye contact with him. “I know you want my cock, angel. Beg for it and you may get it. But now, c’mon, put the vibrator inside you... let me see you scream,” a mischievous and wicked smile appears on his tender and attractive face, which is anything but tender right now, he’s eager.

You bite your lip and obey your boyfriend’s command, almost collapsing from the sensation of the intense vibrations inside you. You want to beg for him. His phone camera zooms in depravedly on your vulnerable area, and Felix closes his eyes as his hand fills him with pleasure.

“Lix, please—”

“Now turn around,” he interrupts you and orders in an eerily harsh voice, “Let me see your pretty ass while your pussy takes the vibrator, my sweet good girl.”

It’s the little phrases and his voice that bring your orgasm forward and make you want to collapse. You obey him again, moving your body completely and lifting your ass gently for the camera and for your boyfriend. Your hand doesn’t stop holding the vibrator, and in a desperate attempt, you start pushing it in and out of your pussy.

Felix pants heavily. He has the perfect view of your round ass and juicy, stimulated pussy. At this point, you were both a mess; the thin fabric of your thong was soaked, your labia majora practically stained with your juices. Felix gives you a gentle spanking that makes you sigh.

“You take the vibrator so fucking well, princess. I want to ruin that fucking useless piece of thong you’re wearing.”

And then, you feel him, his cock teasing you, taking the string of your thong to pull it tight and rub his stimulated cock between your ass cheeks and into your ass. It’s a bit narcissistic, the way he loves how his cock looks on camera, rubbing against your ass and his balls subtly grazing your center.

You can’t resist any longer, you whimper and start begging for him.

“Please, please, Felix, fuck me.”

“I can’t hear you, baby,” he teases, rubbing against you.

But you can’t hold it anymore, you want to beg him harder, but your orgasm is close. You roll your eyes back slightly, Felix can tell you’re close to climaxing, so he pulls his cock out of you skin and lets you pant intensely, screaming his name:

“Fe-fe-felix, Lix, I-”

You collapse breathless and orgasm intensely, tensing every muscle.

He is more than happy, his ego swells, and he quickly takes the vibrator from your now weak grip. Your limbs are fragile, trembling. He turns off the toy and leaves it far from your agitated body, in a state of absolute use, wet. Felix grabs you by the waist with both hands, and you realize that the show is over. He finishes recording and puts his cell phone aside. He turns you back over, laying you down with your legs spread.

“Good girl.”

Felix has an adorable smile on his face, and as soon as you are recovering, speechless and still slightly collapsing from your orgasm, he leans down and begins to eat your pussy, savoring your climax. You moan, impressed that this is his next move. His long hair tickles your thighs. His licks are slow, his tongue thick and hot, flicking his tongue along your labia and entire vulva, he is savoring everything, gently sucking your clit. Building excitement in you quickly.

He starts using his fingers too and works on your pussy, worshiping you. He does this for a few long moments, long enough to have you panting again. He thrusts two fingers inside you and begins to penetrate you with them. You couldn’t believe it.

Felix pulls away from you, just when he feels you are needy enough again, still thrusting his fingers inside you and releasing you arrogantly, his full, shiny lips of you.

“We’re not done yet, beautiful. Not until I fill your pretty pussy with all of me.”

Finally, you watch his fingers move away from your cunt, he takes off his shirt in one swift movement and adjusts his body over you, teasing you with his wet tip between your folds, rubbing his erection over your mons pubis and under the fabric of your panties, so he can pull aside the thin thread that was stimulating your entrance and thrust his cock into you, slowly at first, then quickly and abruptly all the way in with a single thrust. You gasp loudly, clutching the sheets tightly; it was what you had been longing for.

Felix approaches you, making the act intimately dirty, it’s a mess, you’re so wet, and you both need each other so desperately that he starts to whimper as he moves inside you. Your legs seek to wrap around his body, and your hands finally touch your boyfriend. His thrusts are deep, desperate, filling you completely, moving inside you perfectly in a delicious rhythm, fucking you with impatient need. You both sigh, babbling each other’s names into the air.

“You feel so fucking good,” he pants, pounding into you. “I’m going to miss this so much,” he confesses between gasps.

You dig your nails into his back, begin to arch your back, you love this so much. You love being under his body, being nothing and everything at the same time, fading into him. Felix presses his forehead against yours and stares at you for a few seconds before taking your lips, desperately sweet, fierce, passionate, a long-lasting, wet kiss full of secrets that only the two of you know. You separate for lack of air... you are so focused on the sensation of your pussy being attended to, enjoying his body rubbing against your vulva, him filling your insides and the friction of his hard cock sliding inside you, that you are completely surprised when he pulls away a little and takes his penis out of you. The beautiful moment and the magic are over for a second.

“Turn around again, love. I’m going to fuck you hard now.”

He orders and grabs your waist desperately. He turns your body around, grabbing your ass and making you arch your back; you see him pick up his phone again and whisper, “Fuck it.”

Felix places his cell phone horizontally on a pillow, leaning back against the headboard. You notice that he is recording from the frontal camera and your face is completely visible, along with his bare chest, but his face isn’t in the frame. Your heart races. It’s terribly obscene, you love it.

“I want to remember your beautiful face while I fuck you hard.”

Felix sentences and, without further ado, slides his cock into you brutally, making you let out a muffled scream. You feel it deep inside you, throbbing, penetrating you with force. He grabs your waist tightly and starts thrusting into you intensely, sliding his cock into you, piercing and wrecking you completely. The room fills with your moans and his grunts, with both of your skins colliding intensely. You cling to the sheets again, being fucked helplessly. Felix feels you close, as close as he is.

“I want to remember your face when you come for me, please. Smile for the camera, baby.”

You look at your reflection on his cell phone screen. You’re whimpering, slightly disheveled, your makeup smudged, completely cock-drunk. You wonder if you’re disturbing your neighbor’s peace. You’re so close, your eyes almost teary, your walls squeezing Felix’s cock perfectly, enough to make him reach orgasm with intensity, making him scream. You feel his cock tremble inside you and semen fill you completely, your guilty pleasure, you love when Felix creams you. Felix continues with messy thrusts, collapsing on top of you faintly, and that’s when you climax too, your heart beating intensely, your body agitated and trembling.

“I love you, dear,” he confesses, breathless, collapsing beside you.

You look at him with a smile, feeling the absence of his warm cock inside you, but you understand that it must be too sensitive. You look at him with loving eyes, about to answer him, when you hear someone knocking on your door. It’s Seungmin.

“Heeeey, guys. Are you there? Did you fall asleep?”

Felix and you smile at each other in complicity, with heavy breathing.

taglist: @rylea08 @iovecb97 @armystay89 @lolareadsimagines @ayyonoona @do-you-remember-summer-127 @wildtokay @korthbum @oddracha @hyune-sssne  @choso4u

note !! : hey guys, ik i havent been really active, sorry if im tagging u and somethings wrong, so pls let me know if you want to be removed from the taglist by dm or an ask, or update ur user, or if i missed your user, or literally anything plss !!, the link is right up, or again, my messages and inbox are open to anything :) luv ya

[jinjoohaa]

Jealousy looks good on you, baby

where geto's ex shows up (Roommate! AU)

CW : Explicit sexual content, public fingering, jealousy themes, possessive dirty talk, poly flirtation, light nipple play, possessive language, suggestive teasing, light voyeuristic dynamics, group affection/polyamory themes.

“Do you think this suits her ass better?”

Gojo’s voice made you flinch—he was kneeling next to your bag, holding up a red bikini like it was sacred lingerie. The bottom was a triangle of fabric, if you could even call it that. He tossed it on the bed beside five other bikinis that barely passed as clothing.

He grinned over his shoulder, “I’m packing this one. It gives ‘fuck me on the sand’ energy.”

You were blushing. Hard. Sitting on the edge of your bed, legs swinging slightly as he packed your bag for the beach trip.

He was, quite literally, packing your bag.

Correction: packing you into a walking wet dream.

The white one had been labeled “innocent slut vibes,” the red one “cocktease on a mission,” and the sparkly baby blue? “Cute but begging to be pulled to the side.”

Gojo grinned. “I think this one. Let’s see if it wiggles when you walk—”

This whole thing was Gojo’s idea, obviously.

You’d made the mistake of letting him take you bikini shopping yesterday—where he spent thirty minutes walking around the changing room, loudly narrating how each swimsuit would cling to your ass when wet, how your tits would bounce while running down the sand, and how he “definitely wouldn’t behave if you bent over for sunscreen.”

Nanami had refused at first.

“I don’t think going for a beach trip is necessary.”

That’s when Gojo had leaned in, grinning like the devil.

“Think about it, Nanamin. She’s running through the sand, tits bouncing, little bikini riding up her ass—sun hitting her skin just right—and then she trips and falls into your arms all soft and giggly—”

Nanami had muttered “Christ,” under his breath and said flatly, “I’m coming.”

Toji, however, had gone into full internal monologue mode.

He’d been pacing the living room while everyone discussed plans, muttering to himself like a man on the edge.

“Pros,” he grunted. “I get to see her in a bikini. Her skin all shiny, ass bouncing, tits perfect. Fuck. Definitely a pro.”

He paused, hands on hips. “Cons. Can’t jerk off watching. Can’t bend her over the damn beach chair. Some dipshit might talk to her and I’ll have to rip their jaw off.”

He sighed, deeply. “Shit. I’m conflicted.”

Back in your room now, Toji stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching Gojo dig through your drawer.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Gojo didn’t look up. “Why not, old man?”

Toji scowled. “Her. In a bikini. Fuck. Wanna see that. Skin all glowy, ass bouncing around, tits nearly spilling out in that sunlight.” His eyes narrowed. “But some fucker’s gonna flirt with her or brush against her and I swear to god, I will kill someone.”

Gojo just snorted. “They wouldn’t dare. Not when she’s showing up with four hunky bodyguards. We’ll just flex a little. They’ll get the message.”

Toji raised a brow. “We? Bro, you look like a fuckin’ twink with sunglasses and a sunhat. Nobody’s scared of you."

Gojo turned slowly. “This twink is gonna fuck our girl right infront of you if you keep talking.”

Toji stepped forward. “Try me.”

They were nose to nose now, chest puffed, about three seconds away from full-blown WWE-level fighting when a third voice cut through the air and Nanami finally stepped in :

“Enough.”

His voice was calm. Cold. Final.

He adjusted the cuffs of his linen shirt as he glanced between them, unimpressed. “No one’s going to bother her. We’ll be there. And more importantly—don’t either of you start bothering her.”

Toji grunted. “Tch.”

Gojo rolled his eyes. “Here comes the lecture.”

Nanami ignored them both.

Meanwhile, Geto—king of quiet chaos—was at the kitchen counter, humming under his breath while slicing mangoes and laying out strawberries in a Tupperware. Not a single complaint. Just smiling faintly to himself while the others fought over what bikini would make your nipples harder.

Because of course—he’d already prepped snacks. The man was plotting your beach picnic while Gojo debated if pink made your tits look perkier, and Toji planned a massacre for any man who even looked at you.

And all you could do was sit there, trying not to blush while your bag filled up with swimsuits that looked like they were made of dental floss and bad decisions.

Gojo turned back to the pile and held up a mesh cover-up so see-through it might as well be invisible.

“So. This with the pink bikini underneath?”

He wiggled his brows.

You stared at him.

He winked. “Bet Nanamin would call in sick just to rail you on the beach.”

You choked on your spit.

Toji muttered, “Keep talking like that and I will fuckin’ kill you.”

Nanami sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Geto just grinned and slid fruit into a little zip-lock bag like a smug housewife.

The day hasn't even started yet.

Nanami was driving like the responsible adult he was, hands on the wheel, sunglasses low on his nose, calm playlist humming through the speakers.

Geto sat shotgun, relaxed, window down, hair tied up, arm resting lazily on the frame like this was just a sweet Sunday trip to nowhere.

Meanwhile, you were sandwiched in the backseat like a goddamn treat pack—Gojo on your left, Toji on your right.

And they weren’t subtle.

“Mm-mm-mm,” Gojo hummed, slipping his hand under the hem of your sundress like it was second nature. “Are these the thighs that are gonna jiggle on the beach?”

Toji’s palm was already on your bare knee, sliding up slowly. “Not jiggling, more like bouncing. Like she’s built to distract everyone.”

“Built to ruin lives,” Gojo whispered against your ear, grinning when you tensed.

You were already warm from the sun and now your body was practically overheating—skin prickling, panties sticking, heart pounding.

And you hadn’t even made it to the sand yet.

Your hands were tight in your lap, thighs pressed together, trying to act normal while both men kept teasing you under the guise of "car affection."

Gojo leaned down slightly, lips brushing your shoulder. “What’s got you so quiet, baby? Cat got your tongue? Or is it someone’s fingers?”

You jolted when Toji’s knuckles grazed higher, dangerously close to your core. “She’s dripping already. Beach’s gonna get jealous.”

You whimpered—soft, shameful—and caught Geto’s eyes in the side mirror.

He just smirked knowingly and said to Nanami, “We might need to hose her down before we even lay the towel out.”

Nanami didn’t even blink. “Keep your hands off her until we get there. Or I swear, I’ll pull over and make you both walk.”

“Tch,” Toji muttered, fingers slowly retreating. “Buzzkill.”

Gojo made a show of raising his hands. “Sir yes sir, no touching the pretty girl. For now.”

You melted back into the seat, flushed and wet and panting quietly as the waves came into view.

When the car finally stopped at the beach, you were practically dizzy from arousal and embarrassment.

Gojo opened your door with a flourish. “C’mon beach bunny,” he sang, “time to get naked—I mean changed.”

He grabbed your wrist and tugged you toward the wooden change stalls, grinning like he was about to make trouble.

“Gojo,” Nanami said sharply, appearing behind you with a vein pulsing in his temple. “Let go.”

Gojo pouted. “But I packed her swimsuits, I should at least help her pick!”

Nanami swatted his hand away with enough force to make Gojo stumble, nearly toppling into the sand.

“There’s a women’s changing room that way,” Nanami said firmly, pointing. “She’ll change alone.”

You nodded quickly, muttering something incoherent and jogging off before any of them could follow.

Inside the changing stall, you opened the beach bag Gojo had packed.

And of course—he’d packed eight bikinis. EIGHT. In various shades of whore. All strings. All tiny. One of them had rhinestones that spelled out ‘WET’ across the tits.

You groaned and pulled out the most modest one—a string-tied blue triangle top with a matching thong that barely clung to your hips.

You tied it up quickly, adjusting the fabric so your nipples weren’t totally visible. Though, let’s be honest, it was hopeless.

When you walked out and stepped onto the sand, you saw them all at once.

Gojo, Toji, Nanami, and Geto—shirtless, glistening, abs on full display.

Only Nanami had on a loose button-up, thin and light, swaying gently in the breeze.

Gojo was already rubbing sunscreen on his chest, looking like a summer god.

Toji was stretching his arms overhead, back muscles flexing like he wanted to punish the sun.

Geto was laying out a towel, his toned body bronzing effortlessly under the rays.

And Nanami?

He stood tall, arms crossed, looking like a man trying desperately to hold onto his dignity. His shirt hung open slightly, sunglasses shielding his eyes—but not his glare.

Because Gojo had clearly tried to rip Nanami’s shirt off five minutes ago.

Evidence? The fact that Gojo had an icepack pressed to his face, cheeks puffed out, lips red.

“You didn’t have to punch me, Nanamin,” Gojo groaned.

Nanami didn’t even look at him. “Touch me again, and I’ll bury you in the sand.”

Gojo sighed, spotting you walking toward them, and instantly perked up.

“There she is,” he grinned, icepack forgotten. “Looking like a damn mirage—”

Toji’s eyes dropped to your chest and his mouth twitched. “Fuck.”

Geto raised his brows and handed you a bottle of cold juice. “Need a minute before the beach even starts?”

You were red-faced, already overheating.

"Fuckin’ hell," Toji muttered under his breath, his voice soaked in hunger and mischief. His eyes raked over your body without an ounce of shame, zeroing in on the blue string bikini that barely counted as clothing. "You trying to kill us out here or what?"

Gojo wasn’t any better. He let out a whistle, swinging the bottle of sunscreen in lazy circles as he eyed you. "I swear, that ass needs its own postal code. Is this even legal to wear in public?"

"Public place," Nanami cut in sharply, though he didn’t even lift his gaze from where he was securing the umbrella in the sand. "Try not to get arrested."

You sighed and sank into the lounge chair, brushing sand off your thighs as the wind picked up again, tugging your ponytail and throwing strands into your face. You twisted your neck, trying to get it under control, but the humidity made everything worse — sticky, clinging, heavy.

A shadow passed behind you. Then, gentle fingers brushed your shoulders.

"You’ll hate the tangles later," Geto said, soft-spoken and patient. He was already running his fingers through your hair, parting it into two sections. "Hold still, sweetheart."

There was something so calm in the way he braided. His touch wasn’t possessive — not like the others — but there was a quiet fondness in it that made your chest ache.

"All pretty," he murmured once he was done, and you gave him a quiet smile.

But peace was short-lived. A cold shock made you flinch as sunscreen touched your lower back.

"Time for me to rub you down~" Gojo cooed behind you, voice far too cheerful. “C’mon, bunny. Lie down.”

You lay down on your stomach, letting your chest press into the towel, cheek turned to the side.

Without warning, the strings of your top went slack, the sides of your chest spilled out.

"Gojo!" Nanami’s voice was sharp now.

"I'm just applying sunscreen," Gojo replied innocently, though his hands were anything but innocent. He smirked as he re-tied your top — barely — and slid his palms slowly down your back.

The lotion was cold, but his touch was warm, languid, exploring. Too thorough. Fingers dipping far too low before retreating, circling places they had no business circling.

He hummed a tune, all fake-innocence and beach-boy charm, while your cheeks grew hotter by the second. Even Geto had gone back to his snacks with an amused grin, letting the chaos unfold.

Eventually, Toji had enough. With a grunt, he stood and dragged Gojo off you with one hand like a rag doll.

“My turn.”

Gojo whined but gave up, already turning to drag Geto into the water with him. The two of them splashed and roughhoused like children, laughing too loudly, kicking up waves as you sat up and fixed your top properly.

That was when she appeared.

She was stunning. Her bikini was scandalous, even by your standards — barely-there straps, deep cleavage, glossy skin — and she made a beeline straight for Geto. Her shriek of delight echoed off the water.

“Suguruuu~ missed you so much, baby!”

She flung herself into his arms like it was rehearsed.

Toji leaned in with a low, amused whistle. “Oh-hoh. You seein’ this?”

You forced a smile, tightening your grip on the edge of the lounge chair. You didn’t want to look, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. That easy way she laughed into Geto’s neck. How his hands steadied her automatically. The smile he gave her—fond, warm, familiar. A history you didn’t know.

“Must’ve been an old friend,” Nanami said softly, like he could read the flicker in your expression.

You nodded, but it was empty. Your chest felt tight.

Then Gojo came bounding back, flopping down next to you like he hadn’t just witnessed your heartbreak.

“Bunnnnyyy~” he grinned, resting his head in your lap with exaggerated affection. “Missed ya!”

Toji looked over with a scoff. “Who’s the chick, huh?”

Gojo shrugged lazily. “Old classmate. They used to date.”

Used to.

The words echoed in your head.

Your smile vanished completely. And then she kissed Geto’s cheek.

You didn’t think. You just acted.

“Gojo,” you said quietly. “Can you move your head?”

“Huh?” He looked up, confused. “But your lap’s so comfy—”

“Move. Please.”

You stood up, brushing your hands on your thighs.

“I’m just going to the washroom.”

Gojo scrambled to follow. “Wait—without me?!”

But Nanami’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, and Toji grabbed the back of his neck like scruffing a dog.

"Sit down," Nanami said flatly.

"Ughhh!" Gojo slumped back dramatically. “So rude!”

You didn’t hear the rest of their arguing. You didn’t look back.

The heat in your face had nothing to do with the sun now. Not really.

You walked away faster than you meant to, heart tight in your chest, eyes stinging with something you didn’t want to name.

Back on the sand, Geto had just returned when Nanami’s voice cut through the sound of waves.

“Suguru,” he said, calm but firm. “You might want to go with her.”

Geto blinked, brow furrowing. “Why? Is she alright?”

Toji sighed, half-laughing. “Just go, man…”

Gojo, ever the dramatic one, threw up his arms. “This isn’t fair! Why does he get to go and not me? You guys are so discriminating—it’s cause I’m prettier than all of you, isn’t it?!”

Toji scooped up a fistful of sand and flung it straight into his hair.

By the time Geto caught up with you, you were already sitting alone under a tall tree, its shade casting dappled shadows over your skin. There wasn’t a single person nearby — just you, with your arms folded and your knees drawn up, pouting into the wind.

He smiled the second he saw you. Quiet, upset, and trying not to show it. He knew the look. He walked over and sank down beside you, but you turned your face away like he was invisible.

He scooted a little closer.

You shifted away.

So he scooted again.

You moved one more time — and that’s when his hand caught your wrist, gentle but firm, and pulled you into his lap in one swift movement. Your jaw hit his chest, and his arms circled your waist.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice low beside your ear.

“Nothing,” you muttered, refusing to look at him.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“There’s lipstick on your cheek,” you said flatly. “Wipe that.”

He blinked, amused, then wiped it off casually. “Oh? That better?”

Still no answer.

He tilted his head. “Baby looks so pretty when she’s jealous.”

You huffed. “I’m not—!”

He kissed you before you could finish. Deep and slow, with teeth tugging at your lower lip until it tingled. His hands cupped your jaw, then dropped to your hips, thumbs stroking over the strings of your thong.

He broke the kiss, breath brushing your lips. “Wanna tell me why you’re upset with me now?”

“I said I’m not,” you insisted, cheeks flushed and voice breathy.

His hand slipped beneath the band of your bikini thong. One long finger slid through your folds, making you jolt in his lap.

“A-Ah! Suguru!!”

“How about now?” he murmured, the pad of his finger circling slowly. “Gonna tell me?”

Your breath hitched. “Th…that’s… w-who was that girl?”

“Mmh. Yeah, thought so,” he smirked, pressing another kiss to your jaw. “Pretty baby. All jealous and possessive, huh?”

“I—I’m not! I was just asking!”

He delivered a sharp little slap to your ass, just enough to make you gasp.

“Ow!”

“Try again.”

You sighed, cheeks burning. “Fine… I don’t like her much.”

“There you go,” he chuckled. “She’s an ex. From college.”

“Yeah… Gojo said.”

“Oh?”

“Why’d she kiss you? And why’s she calling you baby and all…?”

Another finger slipped in beside the first, and you let out a soft hiss, gripping his forearm.

“She’s a bit like Gojo,” he murmured, fingers moving in a slow rhythm. “Flirty. Extroverted. I didn’t think she was gonna do that.”

“…Mmmhm… fine—Ah!”

He smiled as you squirmed against him, his fingers scissoring gently, teasing the tightest parts of you. “She said she misses me.”

You clutched his arm tighter, and he chuckled in your ear.

“You know what I said?”

“…What?”

“That I don’t feel the same.”

Your heart jumped a little. “…You did?”

“Yeah,” he said, warm and honest.

“She… said anything else?”

“She asked if I wanted to meet her this weekend.”

Your stomach dropped again. “And…?”

“What do you think I said?” he teased, curling his fingers inside you.

“I… I don’t know…” you mumbled, pouting again.

He bit your nipple through your top, making you flinch and whine.

“Ah! Ow!”

“I said I’m—” *thrust* “not—” *another thrust* “interested.”

“Suguru! Ah—stop! Please… people will see!”

“There’s no one here, baby,” he murmured, fingers still working you open. “Just you and me. And you’re soaking my hand while whining like a needy little thing.”

His hand lifted to cup your breast, thumb brushing your nipple through the thin fabric. You moaned softly, too lost in his touches to pretend otherwise. The heat coiled deep in your belly, rising fast.

“Let go,” he whispered. “Come for me, baby. Show me how jealous you are.”

Your head fell into Suguru’s shoulder, lips parting on a trembling moan as his fingers kept up their slow, rhythmic pace. Your walls fluttered around him, too slick and swollen to resist anymore. His other hand cupped your breast, thumb lazily stroking over your hardened nipple through the thin triangle of your bikini.

“You’re such a mess, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “All this jealousy, just to end up dripping down my hand like this.”

You whimpered, thighs tensing as the pressure coiled again — this time tighter, hotter. His fingers curled just right, finding that spot deep inside that always made your voice catch. He pressed a slow kiss behind your ear.

“Come for me. Let me feel it. C’mon, let go for me like a good girl.”

Your body broke in waves — heat flooding your cheeks, breath catching, soft cries muffled against his throat. He slowed his hand just enough to ride you through it, murmuring praises against your skin.

“That’s it. My pretty baby. Always so perfect for me.”

You were still trembling when he slipped his fingers out, his arm snaking around your waist again. Before you could gather yourself, he scooped you up into his arms, bridal-style, and rose to his feet with a smirk.

“Let’s get you back, yeah?”

Your arms looped around his neck instinctively, face still flushed, thighs still twitching. By the time he stepped back onto the warm sand, Gojo spotted you and his eyes lit up instantly.

“OHHH! My bunny’s back!” he practically sang, making grabby hands. “Suguru, pass her here!”

Before Geto could say anything, Toji casually yanked you out of his arms like a prize being stolen.

“Move, temple boy,” he muttered.

You let out a tiny squeak, your arms now around Toji’s neck as he carried you with one hand under your thighs, the other sliding just a little too close to your ass.

“Toji—!”

He didn’t answer right away — just smirked and marched straight toward the waterline.

Once he reached the edge, he stepped into the shallows, then dipped you low, letting the waves splash against your skin. The cold hit your overheated body hard, making you shiver.

“Mmm,” he drawled, voice low and thick, “bet you’re even sweeter wet like this.”

“Toji—stop—!”

“Nope,” he grinned, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek. “Soon as we’re home, I’m dragging you into the shower. Gonna bend you over the sink first, then fuck you into the mirror so you can watch yourself fall apart.”

Before you could protest, Gojo came splashing in from the side, cackling.

“Whoa, whoa, leave something for the rest of us, old man!”

Toji rolled his eyes but didn’t let go of you. Instead, he dunked you gently again while Gojo splashed your thighs and stomach like a child.

“Look at her—she’s glowing. We should get her wet more often,” Gojo teased, eyes glinting.

“Touch her again and I’m breaking that pretty jaw of yours,” Toji muttered.

You pushed at both of them half-heartedly, squealing as Gojo flicked water at your chest.

Eventually, laughing and dripping, you pulled yourself out of the sea and walked back toward the beach chairs. Nanami was waiting, still sitting under the umbrella’s shade, book in one hand. When he looked up and saw you, he set it down and opened his arms.

“Come here.”

You didn’t hesitate — you dropped into his lap, arms sliding around his neck. One large hand rubbed soothing circles on your thigh while the other plucked a small piece of pineapple from the tray beside him.

“Open,” he murmured.

You did, and he fed it to you, the sweet citrus bursting over your tongue. You hummed quietly, leaning into him. .

“Oho? Pineapple, huh?” Gojo plopped beside you both, grinning wickedly. “Did you know it’s supposed to make you taste sweeter? Not that you needs any help in that department…”

You choked slightly, face burning, and Nanami flicked a piece of pineapple at Gojo’s forehead without even looking at him.

Gojo laughed and caught it in his mouth.

Toji just shook his head and muttered, “Fuckin’ idiot.”

Suguru came strolling up from behind, now freshly dried with a towel over his shoulders. He dropped a kiss to your head and whispered, “Feeling better now?”

You nodded, the warmth in your chest finally matching the sunshine around you.

With Nanami’s arms wrapped around you, Geto’s soft kiss still lingering, Gojo teasing beside you, and Toji grumbling like a menace in the background — you realized something.

You didn’t need a perfect beach day.

You already had your favorite view:

Them. All of them.

And somehow, you were their favorite too.

Comment down to get tagged for the upcoming chapters. Also I started a backup account in case something happens to my current one - just to be safe lol, So if y'all are interested, @jinjoohaa-blog do follow !

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[starktonyx]

Come right on me … I mean camaraderie - John Walker x reader

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Word count: 3.5k

Description: You can't help the inappropriate thoughts that come out of your mouth during a mission, and John has to teach you a lesson, or multiple, about it.

“Holy shit, come right on me” You mumbled under your breath. His head snapped at you. No. There’s no way his hearing caught that.

Tags/warnings: smut, fem!reader is a horny menace, dominant John, long buildup, sex, overstimulation.

Note: This has Sabrina Carpenter levels of bluntness about being horny that's how I feel about this man. Kicked my feet while writing this. Enjoy 🫶🏼

Masterlist

It wasn’t your fault, really.

It wasn’t your fault that John Walker was a goddamn idiot. Or that he was also so painfully hot you’d been waking up to drenched panties after dreams where he made you his in the most filthy ways you could imagine.

It wasn’t your fault your brain crafted entire scenarios while you slept, where he was all over you, handsy, desperate, soaked in sweat.

And it really wasn’t your fault that Bucky kept pairing you up with him for missions. You were sure Yelena had something to do with that targeted sabotage.

You were down so bad for him, all the man had to do was exist. The way he lead in front of you, the way he threw around orders under pressure, the particular way he had to shove targets against walls … your mind didn’t even try to behave anymore.

This morning, you’d woken up panting, sheets damp in a sweaty mess, mind adjusting to the fact that his head was between your legs only in your dream and not in reality.

How sad.

And now here you were, paired with him again in some random warehouse lab, Yelena and Bucky waiting back on the jet while you did your part of the mission.

“Did you get it?” His voice came in a growl through your comm, you could hear his grunts as he cleared your extraction route, and holy shit, why did that do things to you?

It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault.

You tucked the vial into your pocket, trying to focus. You cleared your throat before speaking.

“Package secured. I’m on my way to you.”

But before you could turn, a yelp went through the comm when a rough hand grabbed your shoulder and slammed you to the floor. You barely had time to gasp before a body pinned you down, heavy and aggressive, and a cold blade pressed against your throat.

You barely caught the attacker’s fist mid air, fighting the strength he was pushing down with, when a gloved hand stopped him. The man cried in pain when John twisted his arm away from your face. The next thing you knew, he went flying across room.

John had yanked him off you, throwing him away with a snarl that made your blood burn. He let his shield fall to the ground, before he stomped towards the guy, grabbed him by the collar, and smashed his fist into his face.

“So you like hitting pretty girls, huh?” He barked, punching again.

You watched from your spot on the floor, thoughts detailing from the moment he spoke. You bit your lip as he lifted the man to shove him into the wall. Those arms, those grunts … god.

Why on earth was that so hot?

"Holy shit, come right on me." You mumbled under your breath, weren’t even thinking as the words came out of your mouth.

His head snapped at you, dropping the body of the man.

Your eyes go wide. No. There's no fucking way his hearing caught that.

He started at you with furrowed brows and a hint of disbelief. Sweat clung to his hairline, making disheveled strands stick to his forehead, chest rising and falling under the weight of adrenaline.

That image wasn't helping at all.

"What?” He asked, voice coming out rougher than he intended.

Shit.

“I mean ... camaraderie! Y-yeah. Thanks for that" You blurted, pointing awkwardly at the half conscious guy on the floor like that explained anything.

He nodded hesitantly, squinting at you like he was trying to decide whether you were insane or he was.

In three long strides he walked over, standing over you offering his gloved hand. You took it, and in one swift motion he pulled you up, straight into him. His other hand landed firmly on the curve of your back, pressing you tightly against him.

Your uneven breathing hit his neck, barely reaching his jawline.

"That can be arranged" He mumbled, eyes dropping, just for a second, to your lips.

You were sure your brain just short circuited. Of course he heard your horny ass.

"John–"

Before you could say anything to defend whatever was left of your dignity, voices echoed from the hallway, and in a second, he spun you both behind a column, pressing you harshly against the wall. His palm instinctively covered your mouth, eyes locked on the entrance.

“Shh” he whispered, breath warm against your forehead. “Be quiet.”

The agents continued their way down the hall without noticing you were in the room, and John's posture relaxed slightly.

Yours didn't.

Being pinned against a wall, trapped by his larger frame of broad shoulders, feeling every ridge of his suit on your chest and something very solid pressing against your belt.

This. This is what dreams are made of.

You instinctively raised your knee, just enough to rub softly against the bulge in his suit. He sucked in a sharp breath, head jerking in your direction, hand still covering your mouth.

You notice the way his entire body tensed up again.

You brought your knee back down, slowly, and he looked like it physically pained him not to grab it back and rub against him one more time. His hand dropped from your mouth, and the smirk on your lips said everything.

You rose up on your toes, drawing your lips close to his ear.

"I bet it's even better than in my head." You teased, barely nibbling the edge of his ear.

You gasped when he pushed you tighter into the wall, jaw clenching with his fingers digging deeper onto your waist.

He was so so done for.

"Walker? Walker, come in." The comms static pierced through the tension, Yelena's voice breaking the silence. "Did you get it? We need to go. Now."

He hesitated for a second, hands twitching like he wasn’t ready to let your body go yet.

He wasn’t sure if he could trust his voice, and to be honest neither did you. He took a shaky breath, cleared his throat, and backed up a step.

"Y-yeah" He said, turning from you. His voice cracked slightly, so he cleared his throat again, and you bit your lip to keep from laughing."We got it. We’re heading to the jet now."

By the time he turned back around, you were already walking out, casually ahead of him like you hadn’t just driven him to the edge of self control.

The ride back to the watchtower was tense. You took the seat farthest from John, clearly not because you wanted to. No, you wanted to crawl into his lap and beg him to continue what you’d started, but self preservation said maybe don’t ride him in front of coworkers.

Considering Yelena and Bucky had been throwing knowing glances at you the whole time.

This was your fault after all.

Not being able to control your dirty thoughts, showing up all flustered and justifying it on almost getting sliced, pretending you could fool two polygraph detectors.

Whatever.

All you needed was a warm shower and to give yourself a little love to drown those inappropriate thoughts of yours about John.

Respectfully, of course.

You made your way across the hallway towards your room, thinking about getting that shower head as soon as you could between your thighs, when a door openned and hand grabbed you, shoving you inside that room.

The door to John's room slammed shut behind you with a solid thud. Before you could even turn around, he had you pressed up against it, hands holding his weight on the door, each placed next to your head.

"You don't get to do that shit, sweetheart" He groaned, standing close to your face. "You don't say those things to me in the middle of a mission and pretend I’ll just forget about it."

You breathe loudly, chest rising up and down, trying to wrap your head aground the fact that he had you caged in his room. You tilt your head to the side, might as well enjoy it.

"God forbid I have fantasies." You tease, without missing a bit.

Your knee went up to do the same thing you did earlier, but he took one hand off the door to stop it before it could reach his crotch, and let out a bitter laugh.

"You think you’re the only one who fantasizes? You think I don’t dream with that dirty pretty mouth of yours?"

Your breath hitched. His hands traveled to your waist, rough and possessive, thumbs digging into your hips like he was grounding himself, like the last part of him was barely holding back.

His lips brushed your neck, not kissing, just hovering. Teasingly . He pulled back, just enough to make you chase the contact, and that smug little smirk flickered on his lips.

He began guiding you away from the door, never splitting your bodies apart.

"You've been distracting me since day one" he muttered, backing you up until your legs hit the bed. "Wearing that tight suit and those damn lips. Always mouthing shit off, making me want to shut you up."

You whimpered, eyes dropping to the floor.

He tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him.

"Oh, so now you're shy?" He teased, making a tsk tsk sound. "I want you to look at me now, when you talk like that."

His hands found the zipper of your suit, with a darkened look he stares at you for a moment, waiting for approval.

And fuck your heart was pounding. You needed someone to pinch you to make sure this wasn't a dream.

You nodded immediately, maybe a little too eager.

He chuckled at your desperation, taking his sweet time to take your one piece suit off, making sure he enjoyed every time your breath hitched when he grazed your skin. He dragged the fabric down, leaving you only in underwear.

As soon as the suit hit the floor, he pressed you down onto the mattress with one hand on your chest.

"You wanna tease me? Say filthy shit in the middle of a fight? Rub your knee against me like that?" His hand slid up your thigh, slowly claiming what’s always been his in your wildest dreams. "You don't get to walk away to find relief on your own."

Your breath stuttered, your hands instinctively went to the zipper of his suit, but he caught your wrists.

"John, come on–"

"No, you have to be patient like I’ve been" he said, dipping his head down to brush his lips across your collarbone. "I tried to be good. Tried to respect the mission."

He lifted his head, eyes locked on yours. "But you decided to be a brat and got me all worked up. Now I get to take my time with you."

He pulled himself back from your body, finally reaching for the top of his suit, messily dismantling it away to throw it off the bed.

You barely had time to breathe before he was on you again, kissing you hard, devouring you. His hands held your jaw, fingers rough and urgent, like he needed to keep you under him forever.

You gasped against his mouth, and that's when it slipped out.

"Been so wet all day since I woke up–“

He froze, immediately pulling back, eyes narrowed at you. "What was that?"

"N-nothing." You stuttered, too quick to be believable. He chuckled.

"No, go ahead sweetheart" he said, thumb dragging across your bottom lip. "Keep talking. You got so much to say, right?"

You opened your mouth but nothing more than a gasp came out when he pushed his hand between your thighs, grinding up against the wet spot on your panties.

"God dammit" he muttered, his fingers painfully grazing the fabric, barely touching it. "This all for me?"

You moaned, nodding. "Been saving it since the morning."

His cock twitched inside his pants at your confession. He softly slapped over your wet panties, making you jolt. "Always have something to say, don't you?" He slapped again when you nodded, harder this time, his fingers getting wet through the fabric.

He brought his fingers to his lips, and without hesitation, teased. "Tastes better than in my head."

"Fuck" you whined, head dropping to the bed. "This is so much worse now."

You were doomed. You were never coming back from this, from his touch.

From all of him.

He bitterly laughed. "You think this is hard for you?"

His hands found your hips, gripping tight. He rolled them up against his own, letting you feel how hard he was.

"I've had to walk around with this for weeks because of you. Every time you stretch, every time you bend over, every time you moan in your room–"

Your head snapped up to look at him, and his smirk deepened.

"Yeah, my room is next to yours. You think I don't hear you? Late at night, thinking you're being quiet?" He was so arrogantly casual about it, like it was something he'd wanted to confess for a long time.

That he heard you every time. A nasty little secret of yours he's kept locked for too long.

"You touch yourself thinking about me, sweetheart?" he asked, voice full of cockiness. "Bet you taste your own fingers after you're done, pretending it's me."

You wanted to yell at him and tell him he was so full of himself. But damn, he was right, all you wanted was to be full of him too.

Your hips jerked against him, your patience was running short. He hissed at your move, like the contact short circuited something in his brain.

"No shame either, didn't even try to deny it." He continued.

"That’s nothing" You shake your head teasingly. "You should hear the things that go through my head. You'd never look at me the same again."

He shook his head amused.

"Poor thing, can't even shut up about how bad she wants it."

You whined, the pool between your thighs starting to ache by the lack of his touch.

You tugged at his tactical pants. "Take them off, right now."

"Impatient" he scolded.

"I've been patient for months" you snapped, squirming under him. "You just never listened."

"Oh, I’m listening now" he growled. "I just have to be sure you can take it."

You reached up to run your hands across his chest, fingers tracing down his abdomen.

“I'll take it" you blurted, fingers dipping low enough to make him groan. "All of it."

He grinned, before fumbling with his pants, cursing when they got slightly stuck, ripping them down fast enough to make you laugh, until your eyes landed on him. On him.

"Oh my god." you breathed.

Shit. It was better than in your head.

Thick, swollen. Absolutely perfect.

He grinned. This is a sight he had only seen in dreams before. You laying on his bed, mouth parted open at the sight of his cock, ready to let him ruin you.

His mouth was on yours again, rough and needy this time, hands everywhere, yanking off the last pieces of fabric from your body like he'd earned it.

And boy, he had.

He lined himself up, dragging the hard tip through your slick entrance, teasing. But you saw it in his face, the way his jaw was clenched, like he was barely holding on.

"You sure, baby?" he asked. "I need you to say it."

You prompted yourself up by your shoulders, grabbing his face, beard tickling your fingers. "Make my fantasies come true, John."

That was all it took for him to push himself in, teasingly slow, beautifully thick, stretching you in the most delicious, overwhelming way. You moaned his name, head falling back on the mattress.

"Shit, so tight" he groaned, barely moving as your walls got used to him. "You're perfect. Fuck, you're perfect"

He couldn’t wait any longer. With no warning he was pounding into you like he meant it. Like a man who’d been dreaming about it for too long and finally got permission to ruin you.

He caged you against his body, his large hands gripped your hips so tight you'd definitely have marks.

You couldn't stop moaning, couldn't even form words. You were just a string of gasps, whimpers, and his name over and over like it was the only thing left in your brain.

"Fucking hell," he groaned, watching your face contort with every thrust. "Such a pretty little mess aren’t you?."

Your nails dragged down his back, trying to keep yourself grounded. But he was hitting that sweet spot with every thrust.

"Harder" you begged in the haze. "Please –fuck, please don't stop."

He growled. Like full on growled. He increased his speed, abusing of his enhanced strength. Your mouth dropped open in a cry, so perfectly wrecked he couldn't help the grin on his face.

"You gonna come for me, baby?" He grunted, feeling that familiar clench around his cock.

You just nodded, biting your lip. But he wasn't having that, he wanted to hear you. He leaned down, teeth grazing your ear.

"Then say it. Say what you say when you think I'm not listening"

Your brain scrambled. "W-what?"

"You know what, say it" he demanded. "Come right on me, wasn't it?"

You gasped, eyes wide as he continued to rearrange your entire system.

"Say it, sweetheart. Or I stop." He threatened, but you shook your head immediately.

You whined, thighs shaking around his waist. "Come ...fuck ... come right on you–"

You got the words mixed up, your brain completely fogged by the pleasure.

"There she is" he groaned, dragging your hips up for a better angle. "There's my filthy girl."

His praise sent your body over the edge, coming so hard it punched the air out of your lungs. And hell, he felt it. Every spasm. Every clench. He swore loud and shoved in deeper, chasing his own high.

"Where did you say you want it, baby? Say it one more time for me.” He panted, losing his rhythm, hips jerking erratically.

"Cum right on m-me" you blurted the right words this time, even while still trembling under him.

He slammed into you once, twice, before pulling out to spill all over your stomach you with a ragged growl, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, hips twitching as he emptied himself on your skin.

For a moment there was just your ragged breathing, and that slick, milky warmth dripping down your abdomen. Half his body weight rested on you, as he breathed on your neck.

"Holy shit" You mumbled, gasping, when he placed a kiss on your shoulder.

Only a few seconds passed.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was moving up again, feeling his hard dick against your stomach like he didn't just fill you up.

Your eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding your post orgasm haze.

"Wait, John" you panted, "you're still...?"

"Oh, baby" he chucked, flipping you over to press your chest to the mattress. He dragged your ass back to him, slow and possessive. "We're not done yet."

You gasped as he slid back in with one deep thrust, your body was too sensitive, walls fluttering around him as he groaned, gripping your hips tight to steady himself.

"You don't get to talk like that" he said, something darker in his voice now. "Say that filthy shit. Look at me the way you do, like you're ready to drop to your knees in the middle of a mission–"

"J-John" you whimpered, he felt even bigger than before.

"–and expect me to stop after one round?"

He started to move. Long, slow strokes that made your toes curl. Your face pressed to the sheets, moaning like you didn't care if your teammates heard.

"John … it's too good, too much..."

By this point you weren’t thinking clearly anymore, words coming out slurred.

"You can take it" He pushed himself harder. "You told me you could, sweetheart."

You whimpered into the pillow, your body trembling. Every thrust hit deeper, harder, somehow better than before. Pleasure curling up your spine, threatening to drag you over the edge again.

“You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me” he muttered, leaning in closer, his voice brushing the back of your neck. “Or maybe you do. Maybe that’s the whole fucking point.”

You were so close. The overstimulation was making you see stars, enough to make you cry out his name again and again.

"So good for me. Could stay inside you all night." He praised, grunting, his hands roaming your back.

Your body crashed out again, louder this time, absolutely zero control over it, your orgasm ripping through you so hard your vision went white.

He lost it.

You cried out his name one last time as you felt him come again, body twitching while this time he filled you up, muttering curses into your back like he was trying to bury them in your skin.

He stayed like that for a moment, buried deep with uneven breathing, chest on your back. You don’t know how long passed, until he pulled out slowly, a hiss catching in his throat as you whimpered softly under him.

"Sorry, sweetheart" he mumbled, his hand softly rubbing your back, "You okay?"

You nodded, completely blissed out. Couldn’t trust yourself to speak properly at this point.

He kissed the back of your neck, so soft, completely opposite to the way he just wrecked you. You couldn't hold your body up any longer, so he helped you flip around to rest your back on the mattress.

"Still breathing, baby?" he whispered, brushing your hair from your damp face.

You let out faint laugh, your vision finally coming back to normal. "Barely."

"Good, we were just getting started."

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comments and reblogs save author’s lives, thank you so much for reading <3

[clockwayswrites]

The Haunting of Danny Fenton Chapter 7, Part 2

masterpost I am not a doctor lol

“And look up,” the doctor instructed before pulling away the pen light.

Danny blinked back the after images that it left. The eye exam certainly didn’t help, but the overwhelming feeling of seeing was better. Everything was still on the blurry side—too soft, too bright, too white—but it didn’t make Danny want to hide from the world anymore.

“Well, the good news is, your eyes are dilating and have no issue with movement. They’re just far too dilated. We’ll need to get you to an ophthalmologist to be sure, but I suspect that your vision will return to normal as the side effects of the event fade.”

“‘kay,” Danny rasped. He took a grateful sip from the cup Wally passed him before he tried to continue, “Same on the hearing, or…?”

Danny didn’t much like the way the doctor frowned.

“It could be,” the doctor said. It was clear the effort she was putting in to speak loudly and articulately enough, “but hearing doesn’t bounce back the way eyes can. I think it would be good to at least be braced for bad news. The good news, even if it’s bad news, is that you seem to still have some hearing in both ears, so you should be a good candidate for hearing aids.”

Danny rubbed at his face with a shaky hand. “Right. Thank you. What do we think about the hand tremors?”

“Another wait and see. But we’ll start you on some physical and occupational therapy. You and the Flash can be be PT buddies,” the doctor said with a little smile. She really was doing her best. “I also want everyone to watch for signs of seizures, especially more minor ones. Like a lot of the cases here, you’re a one off, but that doesn’t mean that we won’t do everything that we can to take care of you.”

“Thanks, really,” Danny said. “I think I’m just here for right now, so whatever works for those appointments? You can let Nightwing know when they are if I’ve crashed again or not remembering or something.”

“The memory issues should go away as you stay awake and get oriented, but I’ll make sure that Nightwing knows of all appointments also. I know it’s easy to lose track of time when you’re healing.” The doctor stood and rolled her gloves off. “Make sure to eat and hydrate while you’re awake, but rest when you need and keep the oxygen in when you’re resting. Flash—stay put and keep that IV in.”

“Yes ma’am!” Wally chirped as Dick showed her out.

Wally hooked his chin over Danny’s shoulder and pulled him back against his chest. Danny let himself slump back into the hold with a sigh. He found the straw to sip at just so that he didn’t have to say anything right away.

“Alright!” Dick said with a clap of his hands. “Food! As long as Wally drinks his smoothies and stays on that IV, we’re not on a restrictive diet, so Danny, what are you thinking?”

“Trash,” Danny decided. “Nuggets and fries and like a shake or something. Just salty trash.”

“Deal! Shake flavor and dipping sauce?”

“Strawberry I guess and like, honey mustard? Honey something. Surprise me.”

“Can do,” Dick said complete with a little salute. “I’m going to to let the others know you’re awake awake and get their food order too, okay? But I’ll keep the horde away for now.”

“Thanks,” Danny said with a grateful smile. He liked the all the Titans, but he really just couldn’t right then, not with his senses all off. Two was just enough. After Dick left, Danny leaned a little more firmly against Wally. “Nice to be able to finally touch you.”

Wally said something then cleared his throat and said more clearly, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Even though… just… some of those things might be permanent,” Wally said, voice almost dipping too long a few times.

“Yeah,” Danny sighed. “I really hope the vision isn’t. I’d like the tremors not to be too, you know? And the seizures would suck if they’re as bad, but I bet there’d be medication for that at least.”

When Wally sighed, it was with his whole body. “You’re so calm about it. I—Danny, you got hurt bringing me back, maybe for good. That… doesn’t that make you mad?”

Danny played with Wally’s fingers as he thought about how to answer that. “You’ve had to have been hurt as Flash.”

“I heal fast,” Wally pouted.

“Okay, lucky guy,” Danny said with a little snort. “But you have or Dick has. You know it’s part of being a hero.”

“You’re a civi right now. You’re a civi and I’m not. I know that even heroes can need rescuing, but you shouldn’t have been hurt because I fucked up!”

Ah, that was it.

Danny brought up Wally’s fingers and kissed them lightly. “Everyone fucks up. And part of me will always be that stupid teen who was a hero. I’ll deal with what this got me just like I deal with the aches and pains I already have. I don’t blame you.”

“You should.”

“I don’t,” Danny insisted. “And you have to respect me enough to know that I went into this willingly and with open eyes. If you can’t do that, then our date when we’re free from here needs to be a friendly dinner instead. I’m not going to be with someone who doesn’t respect my right to decide.”

Wally left out a huff of air like he was deflating. “Sorry. I didn’t mean too… just… hero guilt.”

“I get it, really I do,” Danny said. “But shove it aside, okay? Because both of us are here and alive and I think that’s a damn good outcome when dealing with unknowable forces of the space time continuum.”

“Nerd,” Wally teased.

“Oh like you aren’t.”

“No, I totally am,” Wally said, “but now I have someone to curl up and watch Star Trek with. I love Dick, but he’s an absolute pop culture heathen. He swings between cartoons and reality tv.”

Danny held back a laugh and nodded wisely instead. “Well, we’ll put on ‘The Voyage Home’, and he can fall asleep to the dulcet whale songs.”

“Perfect, as soon as you can hear better,” Wally promised with a soft kiss to Danny’s temple.