#you can pretend you’re fine every when you’re not

[pennjammin]

❀ halle berry.ᐟ❀

a glimpse into the mind of jjk men being feral over your perfect thighs <3

content: gn!reader (Choso, Geto), switch!choso, thigh fucking, cunnilingus (Gojo), afab!reader (Nanami, Gojo), sorcery!au (Gojo), exhibitionism (nanami), toys (geto), husband!nanami, established relationship, ¿unprotected?

word count. 3k

incl pairings: choso, gojo, geto, nanami

soundtrack 🪐📀: p*$$y fairy!

a/n: the title is because in the song halle berry he’s like going crazy over how fine his woman is and so i thought it fit LMFAOAO

🧚🏼‍♀️

Choso

Choso loves when you wear thigh-high socks.

You’d scored a light blue and white striped pair with C’s on them, just for your Cho baby. They slip and slide all down your legs as Choso fucks between them, fingers entangled in the material.

“Hngh - warm,” is all he manages to mumble as his slick cock slides through your thighs.

The two of you stand in front of the mirror, your hands behind you, holding onto his back as he strokes needily.

You watch as his fat, light-colored tip pokes through with each of his thrusts, his fingers now sliding up, and shoved deep into the light stretch marks on your hips. All you have on is the socks, your back arched painfully, and you moan as you watch him use you for his pleasure.

“Feels so good, huh, Cho?” you purr, sliding a hand behind your head to fist one of his pigtails.

“S-So good,” he mutters, his pace quickening. You can feel his cock rub against your aching heat with every stroke, slicking him up, making your thighs all wet and sticky.

Lewd suction noises pour into the room to mesh with Choso’s moans, your own praises cooing out in time with his thrusts.

Yes. Good boy. So good. Like that. Don’t stop.

Choso’s hands come up and desperately grip your chest, holding on tightly and applying pressure to your achingly hard nipples.

“F-fuck,” you whine, and Choso’s head falls onto your shoulder as you release his hair.

“C-Can I please put it in now?” he begs, teeth clamping down onto your skin, softly planting kisses there after.

“Mm, dunno,” you taunt, “don’t know if you deserve it.”

“B-But I’ve been good,” Choso whines out. His grip on your chest softens but he continues to roll his hips, sliding that cock in and out, and you feel yourself drip more as the tip travels over the sensitive underside of your heat.

You shudder against him, and when he speaks again his tone has shifted mildly.

“That’s right,” he coos. “Y-Y’know you wanna let me in, baby, please?”

Your hands find his thighs and dig your nails in. He lets out a filthy howl in your ear, which makes you moan in frustration.

“Fuck it,” you whisper, leaning forward and planting your hands on the mirror. “Fuck me, Cho. Need you.”

Choso gasps, as if he hadn’t intended for that to work, but nevertheless he wastes no time grabbing himself at the base and pressing his tip to your soppy hole.

“Th-Thank you,” he mumbles. “Love your thighs, but nothing feels as good as your insides, baby.”

You shake your head and part your legs to give him more access. “Hurry up before I keep you from cumming,” you snap.

“Y-Yes baby,” Choso chirps, and it isn’t long before the two of you have completely forgotten about the socks as they slide to your ankles, your mind going brainless as Choso punishes you right back.

Gojo

Gojo tries to pretend he doesn’t have an issue with you leaving the house in fishnets, but realistically, it always makes him irrationally jealous. Especially to go on missions, when he knows everyone will be in attendance.

Now, he knows he’s the strongest sorcerer and - the most attractive - and well, the best. He knows you’d be insane to leave him for anyone else. You wouldn’t.

But he also knows that when you look like that - the big gaps in the nets not hiding the perfect shape of your smooth thighs and a pleated blue skirt to compliment your uniform - that you’re nothing but blood in a sea of sharks.

Even Nanami, the respectable man that he is, sneaks a second look when you come by. And Gojo wants to wring his neck for it.

He’s forced to watch as you kiss Geto on the cheek and laugh at one of Higuruma’s, no doubt, unfunny jokes. He swipes a hand across his face. Thank God for his blindfold. No one can see the rage in his eyes.

It’s only about halfway through the day when he can’t stand it any longer. He sees you keep messing with them, twisting and adjusting them, and he drags his eyes to your little fingers, reminding him how they entangle themselves in his hair whenever he has his tongue buried in your hole.

He’s thinking about ripping a gaping hole in the tights and pushing your panties to the side, too desperate to worry about taking all of it off, and devouring you around the material.

You’d let out a surprised moan, like you always do at first contact. He’d blow cool air on your clit while two of his fingers pinch and massage your wet folds. You’d writhe, your thighs would clench over his ears like fleshy earmuffs. He’d have no choice but to lift his blindfold off of one eye, just to get a better look at your head fallen back, your top teeth clenching your bottom lip.

He’d continue to shred the fishnets as he entangled his long fingers in them for support. You’d whine that they were your favorite. He’d whisper that he’ll buy you a hundred new pairs, and you’d moan from his breathy words landing on your aching clit.

“Satoru,” your voice chokes him out of his fantasy.

He glances down at you through his cloth, though he knows you can’t tell. He clears his throat.

“Yes?” he croaks out.

“Did you hear me? We’re going to grab lunch,” you run a hand over his arm and he feels his muscles respobd to your touch. “Coming?”

Damn near, he almost says, but he instead smiles and pulls you into a side hug - making sure to glide his hand over your hip as you begin walking together.

You chirp against him and put a hand on his chest to balance yourself. “Mmh, did you know you have a little… situation?” you question innocently, and Satoru doesn’t even have to look down to know how rock solid he is in his pants.

“It’s your fault,” he grits back. “I keep telling you not to wear these.” He stops to flick the tights with his finger.

You giggle and drop your hand. “And I keep telling you that I’m gonna do it till you force me to stop.”

Gojo stops walking. The rest of the group is well ahead, good. They won’t notice the two of you falling behind.

“Do we really have to eat with them?” he asks.

“You read my mind,” you look up and stand on your toes to kiss him on the chin, to which he shivers. You, making the most powerful and supposedly composed sorcerer, shiver. “I’ve got your favorite snack already.”

Gojo glances up again to make sure the group is at least out of earshot, and without hesitance he’s gripping your hand and dragging you off towards the opposite direction.

“Fuck, this is why I love you,” he growls. “But seriously. This is your last time wearing these, okay?”

You nod your head innocently, though he knows good and well that you’re just playing along, and after he’s done ripping your current pair to shreds, the following week you’ll be right back in a new pair to tease him with.

Nanami

Nanami is a conservative man. He doesn’t show off much of his skin. Not that it’s really the same for men, but he certainly doesn’t mind when you do it.

His favorite kind is you, wearing a strapless number with a dangerously high slit in it, holding a tiny clutch with nothing but lip gloss inside because you have no reason to carry a wallet when you go out together.

But what gets him the most is your tall, knee-high heels with red on the bottom. They had been a Christmas gift from him, but it still amazes him how you’re able to balance yourself on them each time, without fail.

He orders you a driver, like always, so that the two of you can drink together without worrying about the commute home. He’s immediately pulling your leg over his lap after he joins you in the backseat.

He watches as the material of your dress falls back against the leather seat. The skin on your thighs have puffed out; he’s ogling them like a schoolboy. He catches a glimpse of your hip under the slit. He realizes with a jolt there’s no panty waistline.

You’ve left the house commando.

He tightens his grip on the material of your boot, trying to pry his eyes away, but all he can think about is how disgustingly easy you’ve made it for him to sit beside you at dinner and tip-toe his fingers into the slit of the dress and part your legs with his fingertips.

You’d oblige immediately, gasping as you look over at him and pretend you don’t want to do this in public.

But he would continue on, making small talk with the waitress and ordering wine as he begins to drag the fingertip over your clit that’s already throbbing achingly.

When the waitress leaves, he’d lean over and kiss you on the cheek, and you’d lean back against the seat and part your legs a bit to give him more access.

His eyes would catch another glimpse at the delicious shoes and momentarily falter as he wonders what they look like over his shoulders. He doesn’t have to wonder what you’d look like under him, getting stuffed and bent out of shape in your skimpy dress, because your face is already so flushed - your lips slightly parted as you try not to moan.

He blinks, and he’s suddenly back in the car, and his hand has mindlessly travelled to rest on your bare hip. You stare at him a bit confused, because he’s sitting and just staring blankly at you with his jaw clenched.

“Is everything okay?” you question.

He swallows and smiles reassuringly.

“Perfect, my love,” he nods. “Tell me, was wearing no underwear a last minute decision?”

He watches as you tap your chin, and then scoot your hips a bit closer to him, and now he knows you can feel his cock poking against your legs.

“Kind of,” you shrug. “Who needs them, you know?”

Nanami exhales. You little minx.

“You do, for my sake,” Nanami pinches a bit of the skin on your hip and you respond by gripping onto his tie. “I… am going to find it difficult to sit at dinner with this information.”

You giggle, a soft sound that sends more blood pumping through his cock. He thinks of the two of you in bed, when his dick accidentally slides out of you and you giggle at him while you grab the base and put it back in. Your face immediately twists from a smug crack of amusement to furrowed eyebrows and pleasure.

God, he’s so worked up.

“Driver,” he says suddenly, and he feels you raise an eyebrow at him. “Take us back home, please.”

Geto

You’ve never worn fancy underwear around Geto.

Your relationship started as a hookup a few years back, and whenever you saw each other, you were always drunk and just trying to claw to the bare skin underneath - hardly concerning yourselves with what kind of bra or underwear you had on.

As time has passed, you feel Geto deserves a surprise. You wonder what his reaction would be, to you maybe wearing something simple, like matching underwear and a pair of garters.

As soon as the order comes in, you’re putting it on. They are tight and dig into your skin, but you hope it’s going to be worth it.

You’re wearing the look underneath a big shirt and pajama pants, your typical attire for bed. Geto is in the bathroom, massaging oils into his hair and slicking it back.

You lean against the doorway, “You act like you’re going to run into the president in your dreams.”

Geto turns to you and grins, dropping his hands from the wet locks. “I have a reputation to uphold as the guy with flawless hair, alright?”

You roll your eyes. “To whom? Satoru?” You begin to make kissy noises. “And they’re both boys, mwah, mwah, mwah…”

“Oh hush,” Geto swats at you before washing his hands. Then, he walks a few steps over and plants a kiss on your head before sliding his hands up your sides and under the big shirt.

You watch as his brain registers what’s going on. His hands halt over the leather material of your garter belt, before he rips the shirt up to your chest and examines what’s going on underneath.

“Hello?” he says, cocking his head to the side. “Where did this come from, baby?”

You pull his hands off of the shirt and let the material fall back down. “No, go back to your hair. Don’t worry about it.”

You turn to walk away brattily, but he’s already gripping your wrist and tugging you back into the bathroom with him. Now, he’s got your back against the shower door, and you gasp.

“Don’t play,” Geto threatens, bringing his hands to the waistband of your pants this time. “Never seen you wear anything like this. Wonder what you’ve got on the bottom half?”

You don’t stop him as he bends towards the floor and brings your pants down with him. His pupils go black as he registers the leather panties that are underneath the thin belt that connects the garters.

Geto is visibly taken aback. He swallows thickly, and then he’s forcing you to step out of your pants and your thighs are being lifted into the air.

“Geto, wait!” you screech, falling back onto the glass as he rises to a standing position with his eyes still fixed on your legs.

“No, no,” he taunts. “None of that, angel. You’ve been holding out on me.” He tucks his finger under a piece of the leather and releases it with a stinging snap.

Your hands are desperately holding onto his shoulders for balance as Geto hikes your shirt back up to examine the full set in its glory.

“Your thighs are so thick, they’re about to pop right out, baby,” his hands snatch the material which causes your hips to slide to the edge of the counter. “Don’t you want me to release some of that tension?”

You groan as your eyes flutter. “I just wanted to see your reaction,” you admit. “I didn’t expect it to be th-th- oh!”

He’s using the shower wall to hold you up around his waist, because his thumb is already massaging your bundle of nerves through the leather, while his cock presses against your inner thigh. His free hand keeps your shirt up, staring over your torso like it’s his last meal.

“Well, what did you expect to happen, baby?” Geto scolds. “You know your thighs are my fucking weakness.” He grunts and tugs on the garters again. It stings, but it’s so good. “Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this, fu-uck.”

The leather’s tough, but Geto is tougher. He pulls your panties over, but he does it so harshly that the material shreds and falls over your leg. He doesn’t care, he’s still staring at your thighs, how they’re eating up the thin garters.

Your squishy skin feels so good around his waist, and he holds onto you as he dips his head into the crook of your neck.

You smell perfect, you feel perfect. He wants to take you into the bedroom and toss you on the bed.

He would die to see your thighs parted, a thick toy flushing in and out of you as you stare up at him with pleasure all over your face. He’d hold your legs apart by force, no matter how you tried to close them, and keep pushing it inside of you. Good girls deserve real cock, but since you wanted to tease him, you get rubber.

“G-Geto, please, I can’t take another,” you’d breathe, approaching your third orgasm already. He always recognizes it in your breath pattern, the way your moans pitch themselves up.

“Sorry, I wish I cared,” he’d purr, quickening his wrist to fuck the cum out of you that much sooner.

“Fuck,” he mumbles in real time, realizing he’d zoned out as his finger mindlessly plays with your clit. You’re already cumming under him, and he takes a deep breath as he feels your thighs shudder over his hips.

“Oh, Geto,” you moan, and he realizes how pussywhipped he really is.

And just how badly he needs to get you more garters, ASAP!

A/N:

just realized i need a whole fic of jjk men denying reader the privilege of his c*ck while he uses toys on them… oh boy.

ily guys for your support as always!!! wow i almost reached 500 followers this is so overwhelming <33 ty guys for your patience and kind words and muse when you see this bby, know you truly keep me motivated ^.^

~ pennjammin

[writingrock]

before he leaves [1]

pairings: prohero! katsuki bakugou, prohero! eijiro kirishima, prohero! denki kaminari x reader (female) summary: your prohero husband is being called away to a two-week long mission. this is how he says goodbye.

notes: fluff, mild suggestive content, established relationship (married), prohero husband, it's just really cute and sweet, I can't say much more.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: for @onlyisaa becuz apparantly putting bakugou in a timeout is unacceptable

Bakugou’s been called in for a mission overseas. It’s rare, but when it happens, you know it’s something serious. The night before, you couldn’t help but fuss over every little detail. You’d double-checked all of his luggage, then triple-checked it. And now you’re pacing around the room with your mind running through everything he might need. You’d gone over his gear so many times that even Bakugou, usually patient with your worry, had enough. 

“Damn it, woman,” he grumbled, grabbing you by the waist and physically dragging you to bed. You’d protested at first, but he ignored you, muttering under his breath, “You need to quit worrying so much, you’re driving me crazy.”

Despite his words, there was a softness in the way he pulled you into his arms, his grip firm but comforting. His frustration was just his way of masking how much he appreciated your care. He knew you worried because you loved him, but that didn’t stop him from teasing you about it. Even as you lay there, you could feel him quietly shaking his head in amusement, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk as he muttered, "My dear wife, always stressing." 

Still, as much as he tried to calm your nerves, there was a part of him that understood. Missions like this didn’t come often, and both of you knew the stakes. And despite the bravado, despite his confidence, Bakugou knew how hard it was for you every time he had to leave.

It’s five in the morning now, and you’re standing by the door, watching as he slips his phone and passport into his pocket. You stifle a yawn, your voice still groggy from sleep. “How long will you be gone again?”

“Two weeks,” he replies gruffly, his eyes meeting yours. You frown at his answer. Two weeks felt like forever without him. Did he really have to go? Your thoughts are full of protest, but you keep them to yourself.

“Are you sure you have everything?” you ask again, for what feels like the hundredth time. Bakugou lets out an exasperated groan, his head tilting back as he closes his eyes in frustration. 

“Woman, for the last time, yes, I’ve got everything,” he grumbles, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. His crimson eyes flick back to you, softening slightly despite the annoyance in his voice. “I’m not a damn rookie.”

You know he’s right, of course. Bakugou’s meticulous when it comes to preparation, probably more so than you are. Still, the thought of him leaving for two whole weeks on a dangerous mission makes your stomach twist in knots. You can’t help it— it’s in your nature to worry. And Bakugou knows that too.

He glances at you, and for a moment, his stern expression softens even more. He steps toward you, dropping his backpack onto the floor and resting his hands on your shoulders. “Hey,” he says, his voice lower now, gentler. “I’ve done this a million times. I’ll be fine.”

You nod, biting your lip, but he can see the lingering concern in your eyes. He sighs, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around you, strong and warm, and for a moment, you can pretend he’s not about to walk out the door.

“I’ve got everything, alright?” he murmurs against your hair. “Except maybe for one thing.”

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “What’s that?”

He smirks, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You. But I’ll be back before you know it.”

Does he really have to go?

“Yes, I have to go,” he grumbles, reading your thoughts as if they were spoken aloud. You groan softly and stay wrapped in his embrace. Two weeks without him. His strong, muscular arms, the ones you’ll miss most, tighten around you as you press your face against his broad chest, nuzzling into him with a quiet sigh. You take a deep inhale, filling your lungs with his familiar scent— the mix of his skin and that faint, rugged cologne you love so much. It’s comforting, grounding, and you cling to it, knowing it’ll be a while before you get to experience this again.

“I’ll miss you.” You softly whisper in his chest to which he chuckles. His arms seem to squeeze you a little tighter. 

“Yeah, I’ll miss you too,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, savouring the comfort of your presence. He’d definitely miss his pretty wife.

You look up, meeting his gaze. His crimson eyes, still soft with sleep, linger on you with that private smile he shows only to you. His sharp features seem gentler in the dim morning light, and for a moment, you both just exist in each other’s company.

Wordlessly, the both of you share a deep kiss. An intimate mix of love and longing. His hand cradles your cheek as your arms loop loosely around his neck. Reluctantly, the both of you pull away. You sigh softly from the loss of contact. He keeps you close as he gazes into your eyes, his forehead resting against yours. The beautiful eyes of his lover. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours in one last, tender kiss before stepping back. You pout a little as his arms fall away, but you know he has to leave.

“I love you,” you say, voice tinged with a reluctant acceptance.

“I love you too,” he replies.

You watch as he picks up his luggage and heads to the car. Standing in the doorway, you call out after him, your voice echoing through the quiet morning.

“Text me updates!”

“I will!”

“And when you’re on the plane—”

“I know!”

“And call me when you get to the hotel!”

“Dammit, woman, I know!” he yells back, a mix of exasperation and fondness in his tone.

Exactly an hour and thirty-seven minutes later, your phone buzzes with a message from him. He’s reached the airport. Twenty minutes later, another text arrives to tell you that he’s checked in. 

Two hours pass, and your phone lights up again with a photo of him and his colleagues on the jet. He looks as sharp as ever, though there’s the usual trace of annoyance in his expression. And next to him were sheepish looking Red Riot and ChargeBolt. His message follows right after: They were late. Typical.

You smile at his grumbling, imagining him sitting there, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. Even from thousands of miles away, it’s like he’s right there with you, sharing his usual complaints.

You watch Kirishima stretch in the morning light. His muscles ripples beneath his tanned skin as he works out the tension from his body. He’s seated at the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. The broad back you love so much, facing you. Kirishima’s back is adorned with battle scars, each with their own battle-hardened tale. The scars stretch over his powerful frame and you feel rather tempted to reach out to touch them.

As he stretches his arms out to the sides, twisting slightly to loosen up, your eyes skirt over the fresh scratches running along his skin. Scratches you left from the night before. The memory of it stirs something warm inside you, and you can’t help but let a soft giggle escape your lips.

Upon hearing your fit of giggles, he pauses mid-stretch. Glancing over his shoulder with a knowing smirk on his lips. "What’s so funny?" he teases, his voice still a little raspy from sleep, but there's an unmistakable playfulness in his tone. 

“Just admiring my work.” you comment, referring to the latest addition of scratches on his back. He chuckles softly, replaying the events of last night in his head. It was a rather vigorous night. He needed that time with you, though. With a two-week mission ahead, he already knows how much he’s going to miss you. 

He practically jumps back into bed, sweeping you into his strong, muscular arms as if he can't bear to be away from you for another second. His lips find yours in a tender kiss before he nuzzles into the curve of your neck, planting soft, fluttery kisses along your skin. His lips trace over the bite marks he left behind last night, a reminder of the intimacy. 

For a moment, there's only the sound of your steady breathing and the quiet intimacy of the morning. Then, you break the silence, your voice still soft and hazy from sleep. “Do you have to go?” Your hand gently combs through his messy red hair, and he responds with a low hum of affirmation, his teeth grazing your neck playfully, causing a shiver to run through you. 

“I don’t want to,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough, “but I have to.” 

He rises slightly, hovering over you, his gaze tender as he takes in your sleepy features. His hand, warm and calloused, cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as if memorizing every detail. He’s going to miss you—more than he can express.

You're the reason he’s not in the shower yet. The reason he’s still in bed, holding you close instead of gearing up or standing by the door. He’s prolonging every second he has with you, delaying the inevitable because leaving you feels harder than the mission itself. He knows he's late, that he should already be in the shower, getting ready for the mission. His gear should be laid out, his mind focused on the tasks ahead. But here he is, unable to leave your side.

He knows his hero partner will yell at him.

But how could he resist his beautiful wife?

You know he’s running late too, but you don’t care. Shifting up from the bed, you lazily loop your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his warm, broad back. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you settle into him.

“I’ll miss you,” you murmur, breathing in his familiar scent, already knowing you’ll be raiding his closet the moment he’s gone, wrapping yourself in whatever he leaves behind.

“I’ll miss you more,” Kirishima replies, his voice full of warmth. You can’t see the smile on his face, but you feel it in the way his muscles relax under your touch, the way his words come out soft and sincere.

What time is it? You glance at the digital clock on the bedside table. Six in the morning? He's definitely getting yelled at. A quiet chuckle escapes you as you loosen your grip around him.

“It’s six,” you say, a playful warning in your tone.

“I know,” he groans, clearly aware of the trouble he's in.

“He’s going to kill you.”

Kirishima just laughs softly. “I’ll survive—gotta come back to you.” His words make you laugh, and as you release him, he turns to face you with that toothy grin you’ve always loved.

Just as Kirishima leans in to kiss you, his phone rings, cutting the moment short. A loud groan escapes his lips as he checks the caller ID. He glances at you, a dry chuckle slipping out before he answers.

He doesn’t even need to speak— Bakugou’s voice is already blaring through the speaker, barking orders. You can hear it loud and clear, his usual demanding tone carrying through the room. “Get your ass up, Eijiro!” 

Kirishima doesn’t argue, knowing full well Bakugou had already anticipated this. With a quick tap, he ends the call, tossing the phone back onto the nightstand with a sigh. He knew he brought this on himself, but it’s far too early for all that yelling.

“You heard that, right?” Kirishima asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. 

You nod with a soft chuckle, still amused. “Yeah, pretty much. You should clean up,” you hum, playfully nudging him.

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Wanna join me?” 

“Eijiro.”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbles, finally getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. His broad figure disappears behind the door, and you roll your eyes fondly, watching him go. As much as he’s procrastinating, you know he’ll eventually get it together—because, at the end of the day, he’s always reliable. Even if he’s late.

Before you know it, Kirishima is already by the door, fully dressed with his suitcase in hand. The image of him shirtless and relaxed on the bed feels like a distant memory as you stand in front of him, sharing one last deep kiss before he leaves. It’s slow and lingering, filled with the kind of warmth that you’ll hold onto while he’s gone. When you finally part, it’s with a soft peck on the lips, and a smile as you watch him step outside.

You wave as he loads his suitcase into the car, and he shoots you that familiar, reassuring grin before the door closes behind him. The car pulls away, and the house feels quieter already.

Two hours pass, and your phone buzzes with a new message. You open it to find an image of a rather grumpy-looking Dynamight, arms crossed and glaring from his seat on the plane. Next to him, Chargebolt is flashing a sheepish grin, holding up a peace sign. You can almost hear Bakugou grumbling under his breath about something ridiculous, probably annoyed with everything around him. 

Kirishima’s caption reads: “Already regretting this trip. Look at these idiots.” 

You laugh, texting him back quickly, already missing him but feeling a little lighter knowing he's surrounded by his friends and trusted co-workers. He’ll be in your arms again soon.

“Five more minutes.” 

Denki mumbles, his voice muffled as he snuggles deeper into your embrace. He’s still in bed, arms wrapped tightly around you, clinging like he’s never going to let go. You let out a soft hum as your fingers comb through his messy blond hair, the strands wild from sleep and so uniquely him. His head rests against your chest, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you look down at him—the pro-hero you love so much, completely content in your arms.

But this is also the very late pro-hero.

“You’re going to be late, Denks,” you murmur, your voice gentle but with a hint of amusement.

He grunts in reply, barely acknowledging your words as he shrugs and buries his face even further into your chest, clearly not bothered by the reality of the situation. “Don’t care,” he mutters, his voice rumbling against your skin. He’s warm, cosy, and in no rush to leave. Being tangled up with you is the only thing that matters in the world right now.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “You say that now, but wait until Bakugou gets on your case for being late again.”

“I’m not scared of him,” Denki just huffs, his arms tightening around you as if to say let him try. You know he’s dreading the inevitable lecture, but right now, he’d rather enjoy every last second with you. And honestly, you’re not complaining.

The two of you lay there peacefully, soaking in the morning light peeking through the windows. You’re already thinking about how much you’ll miss him during his two-week mission. It’s not often he’s called away for that long, but when he is, you understand. That’s the life of a pro-hero. And while the thought of being apart tugs at your heart, you couldn’t be more proud of him for what he does.

“I’ll miss you,” Denki murmurs into your skin, his breath warm against your chest as he looks up at you. His toned arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. His electrifying touch trails in soothing circles across your skin, making you feel that familiar buzz only he can give. He sighs softly, like he’s already dreading the distance. At that moment, you realise just how much you’re going to miss the way he holds you. The warmth of his affection that never fails to make you feel safe.

You smile down at him, your fingers still running through his messy blond hair. “What are you going to miss the most about me?” you ask playfully, your tone light, though a part of you genuinely wonders what his answer will be.

He pauses, his gaze drifting downward to your chest, a playful grin spreading across his face. You immediately catch on, rolling your eyes and swatting him lightly on the head. “Denki!” you scold, but you can’t help laughing as the both of you break into soft chuckles.

He rubs the back of his head, still grinning like a mischievous kid caught in the act. “What? Can you blame me?” he teases, but when he sees the look on your face, he lets out a small sigh, shaking his head as if to reset himself.

“Okay, okay,” he says, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Real answer now.”

Denki’s lips curl into a smile, but his eyes stay soft, thoughtful. “Everything,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “The way you smile at me when I walk through the door, the way you run your fingers through my hair like this…” He trails off, propping himself up on one elbow.

Looking deep into your eyes, his usual playful energy is tempered by the sincerity that only comes out in moments like these. “I’m gonna miss the way you make everything feel... normal. Like, when I’m out there, saving the day and dealing with all the hero stuff, it’s easy to forget who I really am sometimes. But with you,” he pauses, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes over your skin, “you remind me that I’m more than just a pro-hero. You remind me that I’m enough, just as I am. That I’m just Denki Kaminari.”

His words make your heart swell, and for a moment, you forget about the two weeks ahead. All that matters is here and now, with him in your arms, holding onto you like you’re the most important thing in his world.

Just then, his phone rings, interrupting the peaceful moment. As Denki picks it up, you glance at the screen and catch the time—half past six in the morning. Oh, he’s much later than you’d initially thought. It’s not Bakugou calling, but Kirishima instead. You can hear his deep, concerned voice on the other end, “Dude, get up. He’s already pissed.”

Before the words even fully register, Denki’s already scrambling, bolting upright and pulling on his boxers in a flurry of movement. The sudden shift from lazy cuddles to frantic dressing makes you burst out laughing. He’s rushing so fast that he practically trips over his own feet as he throws open the closet doors, rifling through his clothes in search of something to wear.

“How did you know I wasn’t already out the door?” Denki fires back at Kirishima, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder while simultaneously struggling to put his clothes on. His words are defensive, but the slight panic in his voice gives him away. He’s juggling a pair of pants in one hand, sliding them on while trying to pull a shirt over his head with the other, looking every bit the chaotic mess you love.

You can’t help but chuckle at the scene— Denki hopping around, trying to get his pants on without losing grip on the phone or his dignity. "Because if you were, you wouldn’t be half-dressed and panicking right now," you tease, watching as he stumbles into his shoes, still fumbling with his shirt.

Denki flashes you a sheepish grin, clearly caught, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he finally manages to get his pants on properly. “I was about to be out the door,” he mutters into the phone, knowing full well that no one’s buying it.

“Tell him I’m—” Denki starts as he finds his packed luggage. Thank god he packed the night before. 

“Already on your way?” Kirishima cuts in with a laugh. “Yeah, you can tell him that yourself. You know how he gets when we’re late. He’s already chewed me out. Hurry up man or you’re next.”

It’s hard to hold in your laughter at the situation. Denki shoots you a panicked glare as he starts moving out of the bedroom. “I’ll be out in two seconds!” he says into the phone, though both you and Kirishima know that’s a lie. 

You shake your head, still laughing softly, as you follow him out of the bedroom. Amused by the whirlwind that is your husband in a rush. He’s darting around the living room, frantically patting down his pockets to make sure he’s got everything. The sight is pure Denki— chaotic, yet somehow endearing.

As he’s about to bolt out the door, you catch sight of his passport sitting on the kitchen counter. With a smile, you grab it and walk over, holding it out to him just as he turns in circles, looking confused. “Looking for this?” you tease, waving the passport in front of his face.

His eyes light up with relief. “You’re a lifesaver,” he says, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Before he can rush off again, you grab his arm and pull him in for one last peck on the cheek. “Be safe, okay? And text me when you land.”

He flashes you that playful, electric grin, eyes twinkling. “Promise. Love you.” Then, with a wink, he’s out the door, shoes half-tied, practically running to avoid Bakugou’s wrath.

You lean against the doorframe, still smiling as you watch him disappear down the street. Even in his frantic state, there’s something about him that makes you fall in love with him all over again, every time.

Two hours later, your phone buzzes with a message from your husband. You unlock it to find several crying emojis, and you can already feel the laughter bubbling up before you even open the image. When you do, you’re greeted with a snapshot of chaos: a very pissed off Dynamight, glaring daggers at Denki, looking ready to lunge at him. Red Riot is in the background, struggling to hold Bakugou back, his arms wrapped around Dynamight in a full bear hug, clearly doing his best to keep things under control.

Denki’s sheepish grin isn’t doing him any favours either. His expression is simply the statement of "I'm in trouble". You stifle a laugh as you text him back. 

a/n: there will be a part two of this with deku, shoto and sero! I only had energy to write these three idiots xP

border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight

[songbirdseung]

i did it first / park jongseong

where cute, playful, and innocent arguments with your boyfriend are welcomed and appreciate as they lead into the sweetest moments genre fluff, established relationship

as you and jay walk back to the car after your date, the cool evening air still carrying the warmth of your laughter and lingering touches, you can’t help but feel a little smug. tonight had been perfect—dinner at your favorite restaurant, a walk along the river, and now a comfortable car ride back home. but as soon as you both climb in and buckle up, jay’s signature teasing smirk reappears, and you already know what’s about to happen.

“you know you’re wrong, right?” jay starts, his voice playful, throwing a quick glance your way as he starts the engine. “i definitely loved you first.”

you roll your eyes, half-expecting this after a night like tonight. "oh, please. there is no way that’s true. i’m the one who fell for you first!"

jay laughs under his breath, pulling out onto the road. "y/n, you can tell yourself whatever makes you feel better, but we both know i fell first. you didn’t even realize i existed at first."

crossing your arms, you lean back in your seat, your competitive side already on high alert. "are you kidding me? i knew exactly who you were. remember that time i ‘accidentally’ bumped into you in the library? that was totally planned, just so i could talk to you.”

he gives you a side-eye, the corners of his mouth quirking up. "oh yeah? well, i noticed you way before that. i was already into you the first time you asked me what time class started. you literally already knew, but i could tell you just wanted to talk to me."

"and you think that means you fell first?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "i strategically sat near you during every lunch period! i even switched friend groups just to get closer to you."

jay shakes his head, smiling as he recalls those moments. "okay, but who was the one who went out of his way to offer you help in chemistry? even though i was just as lost as you were?"

you can’t help but laugh at that memory, your attempts to look like you understood the periodic table just as hopeless as jay’s. "oh, please. that was nothing compared to when i pretended i needed help with my project just so i could come over to your place.”

jay glances over at you, raising his eyebrows. "you did know how to finish that project, didn’t you?"

“of course i did! but i wanted an excuse to spend time with you,” you admit with a playful smile, knowing that your antics back then were nothing short of ridiculous.

“remember the time i stayed up all night baking cookies for your birthday? that definitely means i was in love with you before you even had a clue.”

“those cookies were good, but come on, y/n,” jay says, grinning as he keeps his eyes on the road. “i was the one who found out your favorite drink at that coffee shop you went to every morning, and then i ‘just so happened’ to show up there at the same time.”

"oh please, anyone could’ve done that," you shoot back, laughing. “i took hours picking out your birthday gift that year. i went to three different stores to find something you’d like.”

jay's laugh bubbles up, shaking his head. "okay, fine. but do you remember when i walked you home in the rain after class, even though i didn’t have an umbrella and was soaked by the time we got to your place?"

you bite your lip, remembering that moment vividly. you had felt guilty for days afterward, thinking he’d catch a cold just because he didn’t want you to walk home alone. "alright, that was sweet, but it still doesn’t prove you loved me first."

jay rolls his eyes playfully. "yes, it does. i was the one who volunteered to carry your books every day even though you insisted you didn’t need help.”

"oh, so now you’re just gonna keep using the ‘nice guy’ routine?" you tease, unable to stop the grin spreading across your face. "because i waited for you outside your basketball practices just to see you for like five seconds."

“and i,” jay interjects, “started wearing cologne because you once told me that you liked how a guy smelled when he walked by in class. i literally changed my entire scent just for you.”

you burst out laughing at his confession. "are you serious? i had no idea! that’s actually kinda cute.”

“yeah, well, i was pretty obsessed with you,” jay admits, a sheepish grin on his face.

as you both make your way to the front door, the conversation picks right back up, neither of you ready to let the other win. the entire way up the stairs to your apartment, you continue to volley back and forth, trying to outdo each other’s arguments with more memories and playful jabs.

“i showed up to your first big presentation, remember? i even sat through two hours of boring speeches just to support you,” you say, sliding off your shoes by the door.

jay follows closely behind, grinning. "well, i drove two hours to surprise you at that concert you were dying to go to, even though i hate crowds."

you stop in the middle of the hallway, turning to face him. “oh, so now it’s a contest of who made the biggest sacrifice?”

jay laughs, leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he watches you. "well, if it is, then i’m winning. i literally skipped out on a game with my friends just to hang out with you at that café. and i never miss game night.”

you shake your head, feeling your heart swell at how much effort he had put in. "okay, fine. but remember the time i took care of you when you got sick? i stayed up all night just to make sure you were okay.”

jay smirks, stepping closer to you. "and who was the one who brought you soup when you had that horrible cold and couldn’t get out of bed?"

"you did," you admit with a smile. "but that still doesn’t mean you loved me first."

jay takes another step closer, his grin softening into something sweeter, more intimate. "you really want to keep this going, huh?”

you nod, crossing your arms and trying to look defiant, even though your heart is racing.

“fine,” jay says, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper as he stands right in front of you now, eyes locked with yours. “there’s only one way to settle this.”

before you can respond, he gently cups your face in his hands, his lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss that melts away any lingering debate between you. his kiss is warm and sweet, like a silent reminder of how much he loves you, whether he fell first or not.

when he finally pulls away, you’re both smiling, breathless but content.

"now will you admit that i loved you first?" he asks, his forehead resting gently against yours.

you laugh, shaking your head slightly. "not a chance."

jay chuckles, pulling you into his arms as he hugs you tightly. "fine. as long as you know i love you now."

“that,” you whisper, snuggling into his chest, "i know for sure."

and with that, the playful argument fades away and whoever fell first be damned.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

insecure Jess Mariano trying to rub his relationship with fem!reader in every guys face every chance he gets because he wants to prove that he’s the one for her and doesn’t want her to think there’s a better guy out there for her . She notices his behavior and later reassures him that he’s enough and that he’s the only one for her (+ her saying I love you for the first time 🤭)

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Jess is insecure about you leaving him for someone better.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Insecure Jess

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Jess Mariano x Reader

Jess’s hand tightens around yours, his thumb brushing across your knuckles, but there’s tension in the way his fingers grip yours. You glance up at him, catching the way his eyes are fixed across the courtyard, narrowed with barely concealed irritation.

You follow his gaze and sigh softly when you see the source of his mood: Tristan. He’s lounging on one of the benches, smirking in your direction as if he’s waiting for you to acknowledge him. Jess notices it every time, and lately, it's been getting under his skin more than usual.

Jess doesn’t waste any time. “Hey, babe,” he says, louder than necessary as he pulls you closer to his side. “You cold? I’ve got your jacket in my bag. Want me to grab it?”

You raise a brow at him. “I’m fine, Jess.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want my girl catching a cold.” He practically spits out the last two words, glaring pointedly at Tristan, who’s pretending not to notice, though you see the twitch of a smirk playing on his lips.

You stifle a sigh, feeling the familiar heat of frustration rising in your chest. This isn’t the first time Jess has done this, and you’ve started to notice a pattern: every time a guy so much as glances your way, Jess is quick to claim you like you might slip through his fingers at any moment.

You tug gently at his hand, pulling him away from the courtyard and out of Tristan’s line of sight. He follows, but the stiffness in his shoulders doesn’t ease up. You walk in silence for a few moments, waiting for him to speak, but when he doesn’t, you stop and turn to face him.

“Jess, what’s going on?”

He shifts, running a hand through his hair, avoiding your eyes. “Nothing,” he mutters, but you can see the tightness in his jaw, the way his foot taps impatiently on the pavement.

“Don’t ‘nothing’ me,” you say softly. “You’ve been acting like this every time we’re around other guys. Like you’re trying to prove something.”

He huffs, looking anywhere but at you. “What do you want me to say? That I don’t like the way they look at you? That I know every guy in this place would line up for a shot if you weren’t with me?”

You blink, taken aback by the frustration lacing his voice. “Jess…”

“Look, I get it, okay?” he cuts in, voice rougher now. “I’m not like them. I’m not some rich kid from Chilton or some golden boy with a perfect future. I’m the guy everyone warns you to stay away from. So, yeah, maybe I’m insecure. Maybe I’m scared you’ll wake up one day and realize you could do better.”

His words hit you hard, and your heart clenches at the vulnerability he’s showing, even if he’s trying to hide it behind his usual tough exterior. You take a step closer, placing a hand on his chest.

“Jess,” you say softly, waiting until he finally meets your gaze. His brown eyes are clouded with doubt, and you can feel the weight of all the things he doesn’t say pressing between you.

“I don’t want anyone else,” you say firmly, holding his gaze. “I want you. Not Tristan. Not anyone else. Just you.”

He doesn’t say anything, his lips pressing into a thin line like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“And if you think for one second that there’s a ‘better’ guy out there for me, you’re wrong. You’re it, Jess. You’re enough. More than enough.”

You reach up, cupping his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over his cheekbones. “I love you, Jess. No one else. You.”

His breath hitches, eyes widening as your words sink in. For a moment, he just stares at you, like he’s not sure he heard you right. Then, before you can say anything else, he pulls you into his arms, holding you so tightly it feels like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“You… you love me?” he murmurs, voice uncharacteristically soft against your hair.

You smile into his chest, squeezing him just as tightly. “Yes, I love you. How many times do I have to say it?”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, and the vulnerability in his eyes is replaced by something softer—relief, maybe, and something else that looks like wonder.

“I love you too,” he whispers, his voice almost reverent, like he can’t quite believe it. Then he kisses you, slow and tender, like he’s pouring all the things he’s too scared to say into that one moment.

When you finally pull away, his forehead rests against yours, and for the first time all day, he seems relaxed. “Sorry for being a jealous idiot.”

You chuckle, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “It’s okay. Just… try to remember that you don’t have to prove anything. I’m not going anywhere.”

He smirks, though there’s still a softness in his eyes. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”

taglist: @anawritez-posts

[shima-draws]

What the FUCK Furina’s backstory is so fucking sad??? The absolute TORTURE she’s been through. Shit dude,

[tonycries]

SOOO ANXIOUS

Synopsis. When he’s a 10 but the pulI-out game is non-existent.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, breéding, breaking the condóm, overstím, Gojo’s powers going haywire, spítting, cúmplay, NÉEDY BOYS, marathon séx, chokíng, SLIGHT dàddy kínk (Nanami’s), jealousy (Sukuna), first times (Choso), limitless, exhíbitionísm (Sukuna), true form! Sukuna, dp, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k (wild omg)

A/N. Ty to that one anon for reminding me of Gojo and his limitless, I just had to. Hope y’all have a lovely day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - When life gives you…

Dammit, Toji knew he should’ve looked over your shopping list closer. He knew he should’ve spent just a little longer at the convenience store searching for that special brand the two of you always used - the only one that could fit his massive size - instead of rushing home like a madman to fuck you sloppily into your silken sheets.

He knew. 

But, well, feeling that thin excuse of rubber that was once coating his achy cock snap open - crashing his raw, leaky tip right against the bottom of your syrupy pussy, bruising - he certainly didn’t have any regrets either. 

“Whoops.” you hear Toji’s ragged, unapologetic huff against your ear. Lips quirking up into a smirk when you’re looking up at him in question with those cockdrunk eyes of yours. “Broke the condom again.” he explains. 

And as if to confirm, he’s sliding a calloused palm right down to the bulging area of your slit, sliding his eager fingers along the edge of that glossy piece of tattered rubber, “Now what do you suppose we do about that, ma?”

What?

And it’s all you can do to whirl your glassy gaze down at where he was already admiring. The sinful sight of your ravaged pussy winking lewdly up at you - puffy lips spread to bulge about his angry, red cock. Beading a sheen of your sweet sweet juices down his length, being swallowed up greedily. His raw length. 

“Toji–” you hiss, digging the balls of your heels at those dimples down the bottom of his spine, making him hiss in delight. “You bought the wrong ngh- brand of condoms? Again? This is the fifth time this week.”

And oh he found it so cute when you’re mad at him like this, pretending like your absolute slut of a cunt didn’t just get wetter at the feeling of his cock throbbing against your walls. Milking him so good that he can’t help but let his addicted hips move in lingering thrusts, jamming into your g-spot over and over like a little apology. 

He’s humming, “Accident- ouch!” 

The thick head of his cock pulses even deeper inside you when you give his muscled pecs a bratty smack. “Fine fine- I may have uh- rushed jus’ a bit.” As if to wipe away that tiny bit of guilt in his words, Toji’s hips are thrashing harder into you, merciless. “But heyyyy—” he leans down to drag his lips against your own in a messy kiss. “Y’know what they say, when ngh- l-life gives you the wrong pack of condoms, give her a creampie.”

You narrow your eyes, “Y-you’re such a-”

But within a millisecond, he’s dragging his swollen cock out of your snug cunt - barely, just enough to pull off those flimsy dredges of whatever was left of his condom after those bullying thrusts he’d been planting on your poor pussy. 

“I’m jus’ being resourceful, woman” Toji chokes out when you bite down on his collarbone at the audacity. Before plowing on, words dripping with faux-apology, “Ahhh what to do, such a shame I forgot to get the r-right condoms. Whatever shall we do, ma?”

Before diving straight back into your heavenly entrance, purposefully taking his time to rub against every hidden nook and cranny of your walls. Toji throws his head back, defined abs bowing into you, “I know. How about this time insteada pulling out, you finally let me cum inside?”

And you knew Toji had such a mean cock, and fucked you even meaner. But fuck this was ridiculous. 

“Ngh- T-Toji!” you’re keening with every heavy smack of his balls against your stinging ass, being rocked further and further up the drenched mattress with the force of his sharp jabs. “You’re lucky you feel too ngh- good this way.”

“Heh, see? What did I tell ya? Now fuckin’ come-” Thick fingers wrap around your hips, pulling your back down, down, down - deep to spearhead his cock into your sweet spots. “-here-” Rendering you unable to escape, unable to do anything but be splayed out like such a slut while he’s molding your cunt to the shape of his length. Frenzied. Crazed. The complete opposite of the smugly gentle kisses he presses to your teary cheeks, “-and take my actual cock like a good girl, doll. Lemme make you a mama.”

The thought has you letting out such pitiful whimpers, thighs quivering. “Hah- m’gonna cum. M’so close, Toji-”

Gripping him so tight you could feel the outline of his prominent veins, the sensitive spots along his shaft. Toji’s brows furrow in concentration, letting out a sultry drawl of words, “Yeah? Is this pretty pussy gonna cum?” He reaches down to toy a long index around your neglected clit, sending your eyes rolling back with a moan. “Gonna be stuffed full of my seed like she’s supposed to?”

You can only get out a few bleary nods, and usually Toji would tease you a little more - have you begging and crying. But right now he’s so fucked. 

The feeling of your squeezing walls too tight, the crashing of his sensitive tip against your spongy g-spot too much that the only thing he can grit out is a low, “Then cum- cum f’me, doll.”

 He feels it before you realize you’re cumming, just running on wave upon wave of pure electricity running down your spine while Toji ruts into you so animalistically. Reeling back only for a few sloppy, solid half-thrusts - because you couldn’t bear to separate too much from your cunt - before spilling into you.

And - oh, he was only mad he didn’t do this sooner.

“Oh this is the stuff- fuuuuck this- is- what I needed- take it.” Thick rope upon rope of his hot cum, decorating your saturated walls. So much that it was gushing out of you with each pump of Toji’s hips fucking it deeper inside you - the thought of pulling out not even daring to cross his mind. Oozing. Messy. “Take it all. Make me a daddy again, why don’t ya.”

After all, he did pick the wrong brand for a reason, right?

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Family matters!

The office can be loud - given, it’s hours past everyone’s shift and you and Nanami were the only ones cooped up in his office working overtime right now. 

But still, the office can be loud - which is why Nanami Kento isn’t exactly sure he hears you correctly the first time. Not until you keep looking at him with that sultry, determined graze, spit-glossed lips moving to repeat, “I want a baby, Ken.”

It only takes three seconds for him to lock the door and shove you against the cool mahogany of his desk, bunching up that cute pencil skirt of yours at the waist. Which, Nanami thinks, unbuckling his expensive pants to swipe his angry tip between your slobbering slit, is three seconds too late in his opinion.

“You really wan’ me to disrespect your cute cunt this way, my pretty lil’ wife?” he’s purring into your ear, just a soft reassurance before he absolutely fucking ruins you. “Because m’not going hah- easy on you this time.”

And maybe you’re a genius, maybe you’re an idiot who doesn’t know what’s good for her - because you flash him a grin, “So are ya gonna fuck me or not?”

Soon enough, that grin was turning into your jaw sagging open lewdly, drool trickling down the corner of your lips with every bullying squeeze of Nanami’s massive cock inside you. Stretching out every inch of your gummy walls around his swollen girth. 

“Oh God—” you’re moaning, eyes rolling to the back of your head with each harsh ram. Wiggling hips mindlessly torn between running away and fucking yourself back onto your husband’s bludgeoning cock for more. 

He’s shutting you up with a gentle suck on your candied lips, humming into the kiss, “Jus’ ‘Ken’ works fine, my love.”

And it takes you a few seconds to register his remark - a few, dizzying seconds of being spearheaded by Nanami’s fat tip. Roaming, heavy balls smacking the fat of your ass when he angles his hips just right to ruthlessly kiss against that one sweet spot he knows you love so much. Swirling his furious tip around to find-

“Oh fuck!”

There.

Merciless. Nanami Kento is absolutely merciless. 

And all you can do is scramble your jittery fingers towards his desk, his forgotten work documents, him - your body is moving before your heated mind when you reach behind to drag Nanami in closer by his yellow, speckled tie. 

All the way until his plump lips were mere millimeters away from yours, “I actually think ‘daddy’ would work better, no?”

Oh. Oh, fuck.

He was completely and utterly fucked. 

It takes the both of you by surprise when a large hand comes up to your neck, thick fingers squeezing hard around your pretty throat. The cold metal of Nanami’s wedding ring burning into your skin when he shuts up those filthy words of yours. 

“Ken-”

“Shut up. Sh-shut up, darling I’m- fuck I’m-” is all Nanami’s able to stutter out before his hips grow sloppy. And you could feel the way his twitching cock massaged at your plushy walls, the wet sounds of skin-and-skin becoming more and more languid before-

Nanami doesn’t think he’s ever cum this embarrassingly fast in his life. Never did it only take him a few more mean, calculated thrusts into your heavenly cunt until he’s spurting thick wisps of his seed. Coating your poor pussy in a sheen of his cum - of him. 

He whimpers, bending his long legs at the knees to grind up deeper into your, feeling the warm slosh of his own seed inside. 

“Fuck Ken–” you wheeze, throat raw from the unforgiving hand still around it. Vision spotty and you feel like floating - or maybe that’s just the way Nanami had you lifting off the ground with each relentless ram. “Gonna be the ngh- fuckin’ death of me.”

“Hah, you’re gonna be the hngh- death of me.” he groans, free hand coming up to slide his glasses further up his nose. Shit, if Nanami angled his head just right he could see that sinful, sinful trail of cum down your legs. Glistening under the dim office lighting, forming a little pool right at that crevice between your thigh. “Yeah oh fuck- m’not getting out of this alive. Not with you, darling.”

And oh you should’ve known. Should’ve had an inkling at the way Nanami was still achingly rock-hard between your legs. At the way he innocently grazes a thumb across your sloppy hole, pooling the heady mix of cum and slick on the pads of his fingers - before shoving them right back in. Skirting around that depraved shaft of his to squeeze whatever dredges of seed he could get his hands on back inside you.

It was making such a mess - with each bullying pump of Nanami’s fingers at your dripping cunt, cum was gushing out of your wrecked hole. Slow, and torturous. 

Exactly the way he was moving back inside of you now, reeling his toned hips back to smash right into your sweet spots. Dragging that orgasm out of you - out of him, “Gotta make sure it takes, right?”

Suddenly, you have the feeling that it’s going to be a long, long night working overtime.

♡ GETO SUGURU - The egoist

“C’mon, gorgeous.” that low, satiny purr has your cunt quivering traitorously. “You’re really gonna hold out on me like this?”

It takes every bit of willpower in you to tear your eyes from the absolutely sinful sight below you - because Geto Suguru was so unfairly pretty - even with his wrists tied helplessly below you to the bedposts. So delicately flushed a cute pink from his high cheekbones, right down to his thick, sobbing tip. Looking up at you through half-lidded, glassy eyes, peeking from under his long hair. 

Hair you thread through to gather in a harsh grip, “Mhm, Sugu, if you’re gonna be so cocky when m’letting you cum inside me then I jus’ hafta- ngh!”

Your foolish little threat is dying in your chest when your beloved boyfriend is wrenching his hips up. Having you teetering precariously, clinging onto his sculpted abs when he uses them to fuck his cock up into you slobbering cunt. 

“Hah!” his dark eyes widen in delight at the sight of how readily your slutty cunt was making way for him. Puffy folds being split apart to swallow every fucking inch he gives. “Just look at what a filthy lil’ cunt you have, my girl. So needy despite all your talk.”

“Th-that’s cheating.” you tug on his soft silky restraints. Eyeing the way they were firmly digging into his milky skin. “Maybe I ah- won’t- let you-”

Another ragged jut of his hips, the thick curve of Geto’s swollen cock spearing into you, pulsing against your sensitive spots until you couldn’t think. He’s gasping, “No!” Letting out such a pained grunt when your spongy walls cling onto him like a second skin. “No no no no- jus’ fuck m’gonna have you begging for my cum.”

And if Geto had his hands untied you just knew he’d be gifting your sobbing cunt a punishing smack! So that’s exactly what you do - letting out such a teasing whine of his name when you slap the pads of your fingers down across your sopping slit. Stopping right below your clit - exactly the way he does.

“Still real cocky, aren’t you?” you purr, so sultry and low, sending a fresh wave of precum painting at your bruised cervix. 

“Fuuuck- you little minx. This won’t- ngh-” he hisses. “You’re gonna fuckin’ regret holdin’ out on me.”

There it was again - that little accusation. The same little mantra that’d been falling from Geto’s glossed-over lips ever since you tied his wrists together and straddled him after a few too many goading comments on how you won’t be able to “handle him” if he came inside.

Scoffing, “Yeah yeah that’s what a sore loser-”

Fuck, it seems he’s well and fully intent to not have you run your pretty mouth. 

Pushing past your feeble little ring of resistance to draw at your honeyed walls. Running his angry tip along each and every sweet spot he’d so meticulously mapped out before.

“I warned you, gorgeous.” His breaths are wrenching out so strained, low groans leaving him with how your plushy walls were trying to suck out something delicious. “Warned you it was- ngh was gonna be too much. And now look at you.” He’s chuckling, so utterly unapologetic. “Fucked dumb and taking my cock like the slut you are. How’d you feel about that, huh?”

It’s so embarrassing. 

Embarrassing how good you were feeling, stars behind your eyes every time Geto is smashing deep into your core. Embarrassing how you can barely even hold yourself up at this point, instead collapsing right into the valley between Geto’s pecs, lips drooling with need. 

Embarrassing how you can’t even answer his question.

And this is what makes him smile - full and content. Craning his head down to kiss softly at your slack lips, “That’s what I thought. Now beg for it, beg for my cum.”

“Wh-what?” you snap your eyes open. Moaning lowly at the drag and pull of his fat shaft, stretching out your narrow channel with each ram of his hips. Angling your boneless body just right for those tufts of black at his toned base to rub against your clit so obscenely. 

“You hear me. Or you can’t hear as well as- ngh- speak now, huh? Beg for it.”

“No.”

Geto falters his hips slowly at this, “Beg for it.”

“No.”

Of course, this only makes him stop completely. Rolling his eyes in such a languid way at your clear disappointment, “Then fuck me yourself if you wanna be so mouthy.”

The result is - for Geto - the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen. With you whining, tears springing to your eyes as you try to ride him as best you could. Yearning, craving for those bullying thrusts he’d been planting on your sweet spots. Ass jiggling when it smacks against his pelvis lazily, hips stuttering up and down his veiny cock, weeping your needy juices as you sob, “No- please I take t- ngh- back. I want your cum, Sugu. Please?”

“That’s more like it.”

And no sooner are the words out of your lips before Geto’s thrusting up into you haphazardly. Brows furrowed, abs screaming with the strain of just how hard he was pounding you. Again. And again - more to teach you a lesson, more to drive the two of you insane. Again and again and-

It only takes a few more of those lingering, ruthless kisses of Geto’s leaky tip against your g-spot for the two of you to be cumming. 

Your gummy walls convulsing, sucking up every wet glob of cum shot against them, against your womb. Geto’s full, heavy balls filling you up in mere seconds with how much he was painting your poor cunt white. Dripping down the side of your pussy lips, creating such a mess all over his base that he just can’t help but-

RIP!

Your back is hitting the mattress before you know it, Geto’s large figure looming over you- how? When did he-

“Ya really thought those would stop me from-” he takes the time to spread open your trembling legs, spying down at the mess of cum leaking out of your gaping hole now. Thick, gushing dredges of him - all him. He’s shuffling down, hot breath hitting your abused cunt, “-having my favorite meal?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Made for this.

Slam!

You’re both jolting - you at the deafening sound of your best friend’s hand slamming down on the headboard, making it creak at the sheer power. Him at those sultry little words that had just left your glossy lips, sending all the blood in his body right down to where he was buried between your shaky legs. 

Before you can react, Choso’s looming his face closer - eyes wide, jaw sagging open, voice just a whisper when he asks, “What did you say?”

And through it all, it’s a wonder you’re managing to catch your breath. Because Choso’s unforgiving cadence was barely letting up, pushing in long, solid strides of his hips to drag his fat cock against the plush of your gummy walls. “I-I said since it’s your first time n’ I wanna make this special, you should-” Looking him right in his pussydrunk eyes when you say, “-cum in me, Cho.”

Just like before, that honeyed request pulls out such a visceral reaction from him. His dewy eyes scrunch shut, thick tip kissing so deep inside your womb when he twitches animalistically. Sliding across to mark you from the inside out. 

And somewhere in your fucked-out mind, you register the snap! of wood breaking above you, Choso’s biceps flexing with movement. “Fuuuck, baby, you can’t hah- s-spring that on me like that.”

It was true - a few too many bad sex scenes on movie night, and a few too little lingering touches left you wanting more. Wanting to steal away your cute best friend’s virginity once and for all, and then some.

“Why not?” you bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at him. Making his poor jaw drop even further, hips stuttering forwards sloppily. “No no no no, Cho. You’re my best friend and you deserve the best.” you’re tutting, tightening your legs around his sculpted waist. Preventing any escape - as if he could ever want to run away from this heaven. “I need you to cum in me.”

It happens too fast for you to even register - before you know it, two large hands of Choso’s are hoisting your limp legs up onto his toned shoulder. Upper half bending down, down, down until he had you folded in half in such a mean mating press. 

“F-fuck don’t-” he gasps out, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the lewd change in angle. The curving divot of his head brushing up against that hot g-spot of yours, raw with so many hits. Greedy eyes locked on the way your puffy cunt was swallowing him whole. “-don’t say that! Was enough havin’ you offer your pretty lil’ cunt f’me to fuck.”

Smirking, “Cum in me, Cho. Please?”

And fuck Choso was sure he was going to pass out this very second. Collapse on top of you like an utterly fucked ragdoll. But, no - and he doesn’t know what’s more embarrassing - instead, his heavy balls are squeezing sloppily, making such a mess of you inside when he streams out thick spurts of cum.

Eyes ringing, vision spotty when he’s pouring such heavy amounts to paint your cunt white. It’s all he can do to breathe, “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck m’cumming m’sorry m’cumming m’cumming- ah- ngh-”

“F-fuck yeah give it t’me.” you murmur heatedly, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth with each pump inside reaching your lungs. Sending dredges of seed slobbering down Choso’s throbbing length, forming a pool at your inner thighs. “Give it all to me, you’re doing so good for your first time, baby.” 

Your honeyed praises stick to him like a veil of sin, having him shudder out little whines of your name. “No m’not!”

“Hm? What’re you fuuuck right there- what are you talking about? Yes, you are.” you thread your fingers through his long, damp locks. Pushing away the dark strands sticking to his forehead to connect it with yours, “Doing so good f’me.”

Choso’s breaths come out in feverish puffs, and despite having velvety strings of his cum sloshing inside your walls right now, he was still hard. Still painfully hard with each overstimulated shove into your dripping cunt. 

“Dreamt of this for so long.” he drawls, ragged. A soft thumb coming down to draw on your clit, “Been wanting you for so long n’ you have no idea. M’ jus- fuck your pussy is just too perfect, my girl.” That little confession has you clenching around him so tight. Forcing Choso to hike up a knee to stretch your thighs so far apart it burned, letting him accelerate his hips. “Too much that I can’t keep it- hah- together. S’like she’s made f’me. Jus’ wanna fill you up until you can’t take it- ngh-” 

A particularly harsh kiss to your sweet spot has Choso’s seed oozing out of your puckered hole even more. So slutty in the way that you were still clamping down to milk the soul out of him all through it. 

His pretty pink lips fall into a soft oh! at the sight. Movements languid, hypnotized when the erratic, slender fingers on your clit move down. Swirling at the treacled ring of cum around his hilt, where your pussy lips were mashing against his toned pelvis. 

You have half the mind to wonder if Choso even realized what he was doing - whether he was even breathing - as he raises those fingers to your mouth. Immediately parting your kiss-bitten lips to suck his glossy fingers clean.

The eager, lewd squelches from above and below have him pushing your body up to thrust even harder - hissing, “Oh you really ngh- made f’me.”

“Well then…” you start, muffled. And your tone already has Choso gulping. Waiting on your every word. “Why don’t you cum inside me again to make up for it and the broken headboard?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - HEIR

Now, it’s not often that Ryomen Sukuna feels threatened. Him? The infamous king of curses? Don’t make him laugh, everyone knows that you’re his pretty lil’ slut, his favorite human.

But it’s times like this, with your pretty self sat where you belong - right on his fat, achy cocks, your limp legs dangling off his luxurious throne, crying and begging for him to just move - he’s reminded that maybe not everyone knows. 

“Pleeease, Kuna.” you’re dragging out of your throat, voice wrecked with need. “Jus’ need to- to cum!” And he thinks it’s so adorable how you’re trying to fuck your hips up and down on his lengths, matching tips so thick that they rut against your sweet spots without even trying. 

It’s useless, with the tight, black-nailed grip he has on your stuttering hips. Making such a mess slobbering down his cocks.

“Hmmm, I dunno if you deserve it, brat.” his smug facade is laced with something else - something dangerous now. “After all…” he’s nosing down your racing pulse, breathing in as if he could smell the lust in your blood. “-you looked real cozy with that minister from earlier.”

You’re gasping - whether from his words, or from the way his curved shafts twitch so furiously inside you, you’re not sure. 

“Wh-what?”

He scoffs, “You know what m’talkin’ about.”

And you did - unfortunately. Hazy mind showing off shreds of memories from that meeting you accompanied Sukuna to earlier today. The one where, despite being dangling off his arms the entire time, one unsavory new minister managed to throw a few crass remarks your way. Something about how good you must be and how he’d give you an-

“Heir.” It’s all that Sukuna is spitting out before thrusting up into you. Deep, slow. Like he knew you were thinking about that little altercation today and wanted to fuck out every thought of it out of your pretty lil’ mind. “That little scum had the audacity to talk to my woman about how he’d have an heir by now. As if I’m not fucking you right.”

Two thick fingers come up to smush your cheeks together into a pathetic pout, spitting into your open mouth, “I’d have killed him if you didn’t fuckin’ stop me, human.”

“B-because-” you’re crying out, eyes rolling to the back of your head with each smash of his fat tip against the bullseye of your g-spot, the other marking up your cervix. “I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of-”

“So what if I caused a scene?” Sukuna’s sharp canines are nipping down on your wobbly lower lip. The curve of his dicks stretching you so thin. Taut. Until your clingy walls molded to his shape. “Do you deny me the right to defend my woman? My future heir?”

The sopping wet sounds of your poor hole being ravaged are almost too loud for you to hear his last words. Almost.

You gasp, face lolling up from where they were pressed up against his sculpted pecs. “Wait- future heir?”

And oh how Sukuna loved the sound of that on your lips. A raw groan curling up from his throat, biting his lip while he fucks you so thorough. So purposeful. 

At this point the only thing you’re managing to get out are pitchy whines, being bounced up and down like some sextoy on the king’s cocks. His massive girths tattooing your walls with each and every twin vein and ridge.

“Mhm, ya like that?” Sukuna grins, slacking down the throne to jut his muscled abdomen upwards. “Wan’ me to breed this cute cunt with my heir?”

The only response he’s getting are your nails raking red, angry marks down his tan skin, which clearly wasn’t enough for him.

“I asked you a question, brat.” This earns you a sharp smack! to the fat of your ass, his nasty cadence only speeding up. You’re barely even lucid anymore, just being slid along his towering lengths. “Use your words n’ fuckin’ tell- me-”

“Hngh!” you’re screaming out at a particularly harsh jab against your g-spot. Big fat tears rolling down your cheeks when you mewl, “Yes! Yes I wan’ it so bad, ngh- for you to fill me up. Breed me until- ngh until everyone knows.”

The honeyed grin you’re given is something you know doesn’t bode well, Suknua’s eyes darting somewhere behind you. But that’s the last thing on your mind while he spits a thick glob of saliva on your cunt. Goading, “Well if you’re that desperate, woman.”

And it’s dizzying - if you thought Sukuna was fucking you thoughtless before then you weren’t ready for right now. 

“Fuck.” he grits out. “Yes that bastard got one thing right- I just wanna- oh-” And then he’s spitting, another steady stream of saliva right on your struggling cunt. “Wanna breed this pussy- until they know m’the one that fucks you right.” He’s rubbing a palm along your stomach, drawing a line where he could feel the bulge of his swollen cocks. “Have you round and glowing with my heir.” Moving up, up, up to cradle your bouncing tits into his greedy mouth. “Have these hah- filled with milk. And have you filled with me. They’ll all see you and see me. I did this.” 

Sukuna’s red, glowing eyes are the last thing you see before everything flashes white. And then you’re cumming - barely having the capacity to give a fair warning other than, “Oh- f-fuck Kuna m’gonna.”

It takes you a moment to realize that he is as well. The squelches from your delicious cunt only increasing twofold when he’s gifting you with thick spurts of his seed. Too much. Both fat heads throbbing in staccato with your high, so furiously before they’re erupting in a gush of pure white. Too much. 

“Ahhh yes, s’where you belong.” Sukuna breathes, voice a few octaves higher with how much he was still cumming. Hips thrusting to force such filthy movements to pump his potent seed deeper and deeper - sure enough to mark you from the inside out. “Fucked dumb on m’cocks and hah- ready to make me an heir. One to kill off all the trash I can’t.” Letting it slobber down onto his abs, pooling at the muscles. Hot loads overspilling from your tight pussy now. Shit, it’s a sight so sinful that Sukuna has to tear his eyes away to look at that slightly ajar door, brows quirking at the aghast face outside he meets. “Won’t you agree, minister?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - “Do you hate me?”

“Huh- what?” you’re blinking, unsure if you even heard that correctly. Eyes darting from Gojo’s pouty pink lips to the way he was still bludgeoning his aching cock inside you, “Of course I don’t, Toru? What’s with the- hah-”

Apparently, your answer wasn’t good enough for the great Gojo Satoru, and it’s not long into your bumbling, half-drunk sentence before he’s smashing his fat tip purposefully against that honeyed g-spot he loved so much. Dragging out such cute moans from your throat while he babbles, “Then why are you- hah telling me to pull out?”

It takes everything in you to wrench your eyes open to meet his dead-serious expression, “What?”

Gojo scoffs at how fucking long it was taking your cockdrunk mind to comprehend him. Pushing your knee back further to spread your sopping cunt, squeezing his thick girth inside like some cocksleeve. “Why-” he cuts himself off with a bullying little thrust. “-are you telling- me to fuckin’ pull out.” And he sounds so genuinely devastated, voice a pitch higher than normal, breaking ever-so-slightly at the end. “Do you hate me now, sweetheart?”

“You fuckin’-” you’re spitting. Nails digging into the sides of Gojo’s pale neck when you’re pulling him closer, hissing into his panting mouth, “-idiot. I told you to- ngh- to pull out because I don’t trust that limitless of yours to work.”

“But, my girl—” he whines, burying his face to lick up the crook of your neck. “Don’ wanna leave to ah- get condoms right now. M’the strongest, when has it not worked?”

And it’s like the sole reminder of this fact is enough to spur your boyfriend on even more, because with a ragged growl he’s falling back onto his thighs - taking your boneless body right along with him. Greedy pussy sat so pretty and needy around his cock, sinking deeper and deeper down every long inch.

You could barely even feel it - limitless. Just a slight, steady pulse of jujutsu, atoms standing at attention all around your tangled bodies.  

“Oh!” you keen at the feeling of Gojo’s heft veins making their mark all along your gummy walls. Gravity sliding you down his swollen cock until your puffy folds were meeting his sharp pelvis in a messy kiss. “Y-you’re really not fuuuck- backing down, huh?”

As if to prove your point, a large palm comes up around your back, wrenching your two hands behind to pin them behind your back. Leaving you completely bare and helpless under his obscene will. 

“Nope.” Gojo hums, popping the “p”. Flashing you a fucked-out grin - and oh he looks so pretty, so wrecked with his snowy locks disheveled, cheeks a blushing pink, lips spit-glossed and worried. “How could I be when my girl- hngh feels like this?”

“S’not gonna-”

“It is-” he’s interrupting in a syrupy tone, so drunk off the way you were complaining about his limitless but taking every thrust he gives so well. “S’gonna work- it will work hngh- trust me, sweetheart.” Thumbing apart your bulging swollen folds even further to toy over your pulsing clit, “Shit- love it when you squeeze me like that. Hah- and you expected me to leave this n’ go get condoms fuckin’ right.” With every hungry thrust he’s gifting your poor pussy, Gojo’s mouth is running a mile a minute against your racing pulse. Heavy tongue lolling, eyes rolling to the back of his head with every passing millisecond you’re sucking the ever-loving soul out of him. “As if I’d wanna hah- leave this. It’ll work-”

Somewhere in-between the lingering ruts, a hand of yours runs through Gojo’s damp tresses, tugging on it to make him look. Difficult, somehow. 

“Toru…” you grip harder on his soft strands, dragging him away from his little hiding spot. Relenting, he’s slowly raising his eyes to look at you and- “Why are you-”

Oh. Shit.

If you thought Gojo was ruined before then you weren’t ready for this - his half-lidded eyes glowing, crackling with power, babbling lips sagging open in ecstacy. And if you didn’t know any better you’d have thought that the lights in your bedroom flickered dangerously just a bit. He gasps, eyes boring into yours, “What- what was I sayin’ again?”

Oh he was so fucked - and you were, too. 

Because your mouth is moving before your mind, feeling so dirty when you muse, “Told me how you were gonna- ngh- drop limitless n’ fill me up, Toru–”

Your jaw is prying open with his mean little tempo. Fat, greedy cock messing up your insides with how haphazardly he was spearing inside in weighty, animalistic thrusts. Leaving just enough time for that divot on his angry tip to peck at your sweet spots, before shoving his entire length back in and out again. Over and over and-

It only takes a mere split-second of Gojo’s limitless faltering, of him being enveloped in all your dripping heaven, before he’s cumming. And cumming so hard, gushing out so much in thick, hot streams of his heady seed.

It’s filling you up from the inside, stretching your walls taut. Sloppy. Sinful. And you can do nothing but reach your high as well, flashes of white-hot pleasure behind your eyes. Or maybe that was Gojo.

His creamy white cum kissing you inside, drooling out of your ravaged hole with every mindless push of his hips. Forcing it deeper and deeper and oh fuck, he could do this forever. Fuck condoms. Fuck limitless. He tells you that - rattles it off into your open mouth a little over fifteen times watching the coating of his cum pool a glossy sheen down your legs. Sloshing down in thick, lewd globs.

“Told you so.” you scoff. 

“That- that was just the practice round! Best out of three?”

“...”

A/N. Picked the title out for no purpose other than self-indulgence I’m ngl.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[navybrat817]

Just Like That

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky suggests staying in a hotel together before an undercover mission, which would be fine if you didn't have a massive crush on the super soldier. Word Count: Almost 5k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, pining, flirting, slight possessive behavior, talk of undercover mission, "only one bed" trope, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: A combination of @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge and my Bucky Barnes Smut Menu, courtesy of @ellemj. "Only One Bed" Trope and the dialogue prompt in bold italics. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The engagement ring on your finger suited you. Not large or overly flashy, the single diamond radiated a subtle sparkle. It was beautiful and a perfect fit, a representation of the unifying love of marriage. When you looked at it under the light, it was almost as if you could feel the love that Bucky had for you.

If only that were the case.

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” You asked, taking a seat at the table across from Bucky.

“So we can practice and make sure we’re a convincing couple,” he replied.

You sighed as you glanced around the hotel room for the umpteenth time. A small sitting area, a dining and kitchen combination, a single bathroom, and a bedroom. When you pointed out that there was only one bed, Bucky reminded you of the expectation that the two of you had to sleep together while on assignment since you were going on a couple's retreat. Which wouldn't be an issue if you didn't have a crush on him, right?

Right.

You were completely enamored with Bucky Barnes, the handsome former assassin turned agent for the revamped SHIELD. Instacrush wasn't something you experienced often, so he took you by surprise. It was pathetic to fall for him so hard and quickly. It had to be some sort of karma or divine intervention that you were with him in a hotel room.

Just the two of you.

“You know,” he began, wetting his lips as he leaned back in his chair. You blinked, only because you didn't want him to call you out on staring. “You don't have to look so miserable to be here. Is my company that terrible?”

“What? No. Bucky, you aren't terrible company,” you promised, slumping a bit in your chair. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him. “Just been a bit since I've been in a relationship and I’m kind of rusty.”

“You're talking to a guy who hasn't been on a real date since the 40s,” he deadpanned.

He had a point. Plus, from what you understood, Bucky wasn't exactly interested in dating anyone. Every time Steve or Natasha suggested he go on a date, he found a way to brush it off or change the subject.

Even if he was interested in dating, did he think of you as anything beyond a colleague?

Taking this assignment may have been a mistake.

“I’m just not sure I’m the right one for this job,” you said.

“You’re perfect for this job. Why would you think otherwise?”

You froze like a deer in headlights, even as his compliment warmed your heart. It meant a lot that he thought you would do the job well. But how were you supposed to answer that question? That you adored him and it would be torture to pretend to be with him for a week just to back to being coworkers after?

“We should practice,” you suggested instead of giving him an answer. The backstory wasn't overly elaborate, but you had to get it right.

He leaned forward, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Did someone say something to make you think you wouldn't be good for this assignment?” He asked in a low voice. “Because I'll straighten them out.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from whimpering. The thought of him putting someone in their place to make you feel better was swoon-worthy. “No, Bucky. No one said anything. You're right. I’m good for this,” you said before you added, “We’re good together.”

You couldn't read the look he gave you and it became more difficult not to squirm under his gaze. “Yeah,” he whispered, leaning back and clearing his throat. “So. We’re engaged. Going to a resort for a much needed vacation. We’ll have to mingle with some of the guests in between investigating the owner. One of the first questions will be how we met.”

With an exhale, you recited, “We met at a coffee shop. We both ordered the same drink.”

“An iced caramel macchiato,” he said.

“And we reached for the drink at the same time,” you smiled, making a show out of reaching for the glass on the table. “Our fingers touched first. Our eyes met second.”

“And I immediately asked you out,” he smiled.

Your heart swelled. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world when he smiled like that. “You did,” you said, trying to blink the longing from your eyes. “We went to dinner and talked a bit about ourselves. You told me you're a mechanic and I told you I’m a teacher. And once dinner was over, we went back to that same coffee shop and we shared an iced caramel macchiato.”

“Even proposed to you at the same shop,” he said, gesturing to your left hand. “But I actually got the ring after our first date because I knew I wanted you to be my girl,” he said with such conviction that you found it hard to breathe.

The way his eyes softened as he gazed at you, you found yourself believing him for a moment. You had to stay rooted in realism though. The point of the mission besides the actual mission was to act as if you two were crazy about each other.

Not that you had to do any acting on your part.

You cleared your throat and pulled your hand back from the glass. “If only that were true,” you said, absentmindedly twisting the ring around your finger. You weren't cynical about love, but this whole thing was a reminder that you were single and alone.

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Heat crept up your neck. You shouldn't have said anything. “I mean, it just would've been nice if we met at a coffee shop,” you replied to avoid saying you wanted to be his girl.

“What’s wrong with how we met?” He asked, crossing his arms.

The metal arm gleamed under the light. You noticed that he had a tendency to wear long sleeves and gloves whenever he was in the building, but seeing him with his sleeve pushed up and missing glove? You would almost say he was comfortable around you.

Again, he had to play the part right.

You pulled yourself from your thoughts when he said your name, which sounded like it melted on his tongue. It made you press your thighs together. You needed to stay professional. “Do you not remember what happened or are you just being nice?” You asked.

Months ago, the day you met Bucky, Steve informed you that he planned to introduce you to him after he came back from a long assignment. Not only were you excited to meet one of his best friends and a great soldier, but you had wanted to make a good impression on him. What you did was make an ass out of yourself when you turned the corner only to smack right into the former Winter Soldier.

And splattered your beverage on both of you in the process.

Instacrush and a horrible impression on your part.

Bucky’s lips curled in a smile as your eyes widened. “You do remember,” you said, wadding up a nearby napkin and tossing it at his face, which he easily caught. “Oh, my God! That’s why you chose ‘coffee shop' for this, didn't you?”

You concentrated so much on getting the backstory right that it didn't occur to you that he was maybe poking fun at you. He wasn't the kind of guy that liked making others feel bad though. Tease you, sure. Outright make fun of you at the risk of hurting your feelings? He would never.

“Hey, I didn't choose how we met, but I also didn't object,” he said, raising his hands in surrender when you went to throw another napkin at him. “And I wouldn't forget meeting you, doll. You make a lasting impression.”

You wished you had done something to make him remember you besides spilling a drink on him. “I guess making an idiot out of myself is a lasting impression,” you teased.

Something dark flashed in his eyes, making your breath hitch. “That’s not what I meant. You didn't make an idiot out of yourself and I don't like you thinking that or talking down about yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, not used to someone getting so defensive at your self-depreciation. There was something sexy and heartwarming about it. “You were very nice about the whole incident.”

“You were nice, too,” he said, gesturing to his torso. “I mean, you offered to buy me a new shirt.”

“Because I spilled my drink on it! I felt bad,” you said.

“And when I said you didn't have to buy me a new shirt, you said, ‘Are you sure I can't pay for the dry cleaning at least, Sergeant Barnes?’” he said in a falsetto voice.

He chuckled when you rolled your eyes. “I don't sound like that, first of all, and I was being considerate,” you said. You couldn't believe he remembered your exact words. “And you just gave me that half confused smile of yours before I grabbed napkins for both of us to clean up.”

“You mean this?” He asked, his lips stretching in that familiar awkward grin.

“Yeah, that,” you giggled, your heart doing that funny flip that happened far too often around him.

In the beginning, whenever you smiled at him, he gave you that very look in return. Somewhere along the way, the uncomfortable glances on his end became genuine fondness. It didn't mean anything though.

Just an agent being kind to another agent.

Bucky stared at you as you continued to giggle at the memory. “I’m sorry. I just-”

“I love your laugh,” he said, almost making you choke on your own breath. Nothing like forgetting how to be a human and breathe. “And your smile.”

Maybe he had switched back into practice mode. “You do?” You asked, playing along as you smiled directly at him.

He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice thick as he unfolded his arms. “You know, you're one of the people that actually smiles at me. And you look me in the eye when you talk to me.”

“Why wouldn't I?”

“Because some people are still afraid of me,” he whispered.

Your heart sank. He was a good man. A hero wrongly painted as a villain. It wasn't fair what he went through and you had no reason to fear him.

Why couldn't everyone else see the good in him?

“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky,” you promised. And after what he went through, frightening people was the last thing he would do. “Never have been. Never will be.”

“Maybe you should be,” he muttered, some of the light leaving his eyes.

Your eyes narrowed as you tempered the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Seeing this vulnerable side of him also brought out your protective instinct. “Listen to me. You’re amazing and a good man, okay? And if I don't get to call myself an idiot for spilling a drink on you, then you don't get to say I should be scared of you, Sergeant Barnes,” you said with an air of finality.

He gave you an impressed smile. “Just like that? Because those are totally different things you're comparing.”

“Just like that,” you said, putting your hand on the table for him to take if he wished. “Do you trust that I'll have your back on this mission? Because I trust that you'll have mine no matter what.”

He stared at your upturned hand for a moment before he took it. “You're one of the only people I do trust,” he admitted.

His eyes bore into yours as you tried to find the words to respond. He wasn’t feeding you a line to make you feel good about yourself. Bucky Barnes trusted you.

“Then trust me when I say we got this,” you promised. You would look out for him and let him know that he hadn’t misplaced his trust in you.

“Why don't you have a boyfriend?” He asked suddenly.

The switch in topic jarred you, but he didn’t let go of your hand. “That’s. I’m. What? How is that relevant?”

It wasn't smooth, but it was better than blurting out that your hopeless crush on him was one of the major factors.

“I’m curious,” he shrugged.

“Oh. Well. My last boyfriend dumped me for being an agent. Seriously, he didn't like the fact that I could kick his ass if I wanted to,” you told him, squeezing his hand without meaning to. He didn’t object. “Which I wouldn't.”

“You could kick my ass if you wanted to,” he winked. Physically, Bucky was broad and strong. You weren’t sure you could take him in a real fight, but you could take him another way if he ever offered. “And your ex sounds like an asshole if he can’t stand beside and support an amazing woman.”

You smiled humorlessly. “Thanks, Bucky, but I’m not-”

“I swear to fuck if you talk down about yourself again, I will put you over my knee,” he threatened, his eyes darker than they were seconds ago.

You didn’t laugh as he stared at you. Neither did he. Your clothes suddenly felt too heavy, your body too warm. Licking your lips, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “Is that a promise?”

Bucky pushed his chair back and pointed at his thigh, his eyes still on you. “Get over here and find out.”

Oh, fuck.

The sound of Bucky’s phone ringing snapped you both out of whatever spell you two were under. “Shit,” he muttered, taking his hand from yours. “It’s Steve. I better-”

“Yeah, you should answer that,” you said, almost knocking the chair over as you stood. “I think I'm going to call it a night.”

“Wait, what?” He asked, answering the phone. “Hold on, punk,” he said, covering the screen as he looked at you. “You’re going to bed now?”

Guilt settled in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. “Just going to lay down. I may not go to sleep right away. And we can practice more in the morning,” you replied. You just needed to step out of the room and take a breath.

He waited a beat before he nodded, the tension still lingering. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, leaving him alone so he could talk to Steve.

You splashed a bit of water on your face when you went to the bathroom to change. The assignment hadn’t started and you couldn’t keep your cool. With squinted eyes, you pointed at your reflection and mentally scolded yourself. Yes, you wanted Bucky Barnes and maybe, just maybe, some part of him wanted you. At least, he wanted you enough to put you over his knee.

You couldn't have him though. Could you? Mixing business with pleasure could lead to complications if you crossed that line, but it wasn’t like you’d break some major bylaw by being his girl.

Now wasn’t the time to think about that.

“Get your shit together,” you hissed, rushing through your nighttime routine and changing into your comfortable yet sexy nightgown.

Your eyes went to the bed when you left the bathroom. Just a regular hotel bed. Inviting, but not overly frilly. Large enough for the both of you, but small enough that you might end up in each other’s arms.

“It’s going to be a long night,” you muttered.

Sighing, you left a light on for Bucky to see and crawled into bed, shutting your eyes as he wrapped up his call with Steve. You tried to block out the sound of his footsteps as he made his way to the bathroom. Maybe his nighttime routine would take a bit longer than you thought and you could drift off and wake up to the sight of his beautiful eyes and-

The bed dipped as Bucky curled up behind you, your eyes opening when he placed his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him. You were conscious of every shift in his body, every breath he took. How you could smell his lingering cologne as he pressed himself closer. How he ran warmer than you and you wanted him to heat you up even though you weren’t cold.

And that he wasn’t wearing a fucking shirt.

“I know you aren’t sleeping,” he whispered, his fingers brushing along the fabric that covered your skin. “Your heart’s beating too fast.”

He was right. It was about ready to burst through your chest. “Can’t sleep.”

“Why not?” He asked, helping you roll over so you were on your back. He didn’t remove his hand though. “Did my ‘threat’ make you uncomfortable?”

“No, it didn't,” you assured him, heat pooling between your legs that you couldn't prevent. “I wouldn't have continued with the banter if I was uncomfortable.”

“Just making sure,” he said. “I was only teasing.”

You huffed out a laugh in an effort to cover up the crushing feeling in your chest, your arousal fading to a dull ache. “Of course, you were,” you uttered. Teasing. Nothing more. “Good night, Bucky,” you said, turning your head away.

He brought a hand to your cheek and brought your face back toward him. How did his eyes look so blue in the faint light? “Don’t go to sleep yet, please.”

“Why not?”

“You rushed to bed and now you're shutting down. I clearly said or did something wrong,” he sighed, which made you feel bad. He hadn't done anything wrong in your eyes since it wasn’t his fault you wanted his teasing to mean something. “I need to fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix because you didn't break anything,” you said, the ring heavy on the finger. “But can I ask for a favor?”

“Of course,” he whispered.

You didn’t dare search out his gaze when you said, “I may need reminders this week that you don't actually have feelings for me.”

A few seconds went by before he asked in a small voice, “What?”

You took a breath to compose yourself. The last thing you needed to do was get upset for no good reason. “We’re going to hold hands and cuddle and share a bed and be a couple, but you may need to give me a reality check now and again that you only see me as an agent. Okay?”

Maybe he’d ask Steve for a new partner in the morning.

“You think I only see you as an agent?” He asked, sighing when you nodded. “I used to be good at this.”

“Good at what?”

“Teasing. Flirting,” he answered, leaning in close. He stopped just before his lips touched yours. “Kissing.”

“Wait. You were flirting with me?” you said, not moving forward or back as you put a hand on his chest. His heart raced as fast as yours. And your brain couldn’t compute that implication that he wanted to kiss you. “You weren’t just practicing for the assignment?”

He huffed out a laugh this time. “You’re killing me, doll,” he whispered, closing the distance.

You imagined Bucky kissing you before, but didn’t think it would ever be so soft. His lips barely brushed against yours, but it felt like the beginning of something more. It tempted you like nothing else ever had. He must’ve felt it, too, since he deepened it. You melted. You surrendered.

You never stood a chance.

“So, you like me?” You asked when he pulled back a little to gaze at you. “I’m sorry. I just need to hear you say it because I really like you and have for months. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said that because we have a whole week together for this assignment and now you know and I don't want it to be weird.”

Your mind almost shut down when he gave you a full-blown smile and said, “Yeah, I like you. I thought it was obvious. I tried dropping little hints, talking about your smile and trusting you.” He chuckled almost shyly as his words sank in. “I took this assignment because of you.”

A moment passed before you giggled, happiness blooming in your chest. Bucky Barnes liked you. Wanted you. “Thank fuck,” you breathed, pulling him back down for another kiss.

He groaned, ravaging your mouth as he moved on top of you. His knee pushed your legs apart so he could settle between them, swallowing down your whimpers when he pressed his growing hardness against your pussy. He ground his hips, your panties soaked as his tongue tangled with yours. The man kissed you like he had something to prove.

Like he wanted to own you.

His muscles rippled as he leaned up and grasped the bottom of your nightie. The vision of him above you like this was now engraved in your mind. “If you want me to stop, I will.”

Sleeping with him was moving fast considering you just confessed your feelings for each other, but you didn't care. “Don't stop,” you whispered, quivering as he tugged the fabric over your head.

Your hands moved up to cover your chest before he gripped your wrists. “Are you trying to hide from me?” He questioned, his smirk playful in comparison to the uncertainty in his gaze.

You didn't want him doubting himself or your want for him for a second.

“Maybe? I mean, look at you and look at…”

You wouldn't knock on your looks since you were generally confident in your appearance, but the super soldier was an entirely different level of gorgeous. He towered over even the largest of agents, with the exception of Steve, and his dark lashes framing his steel eyes were enough to pull you under.

And who were you compared to him? Just another agent. Average.

“Don't,” he whispered, releasing a wrist so he could cup your breast. You arched your back and any uncertainty in his eyes before faded when a moan escaped your lips. “You're so fucking beautiful.”

The praise almost made your eyes water as he brought his head down, losing focus when he swept his tongue across your nipple. Your eyes fluttered shut as he did it again, a wave from a sea of ecstasy crashing over you. Your heart thudded faster, addicted to the feel of his sinful mouth.

“You’re the reason I don't have a boyfriend,” you whined, your fingers twisting in his hair. Why did you say that?

He smirked against your skin before he reached down and tore your panties away. “I haven't gone on a date because of you.”

Your body throbbed with need as you met his gaze. “You're just saying that to get in my pants,” you joked.

His eyes raked down your body, stopping between your trembling thighs as he pushed his pants and underwear down. “If I had my way, I would've taken you out first,” he said, drawing a moan from you when he wrapped a hand around his thick cock. “But all I can think about right now is how loud you’ll say my name when I make you come.”

“Bucky,” you moaned, tempted to reach down and touch yourself to the sight of him.

“Louder than that,” he said smugly, rubbing the tip of his cock along your slick folds. “Fuck, I wanna take my time and explore you. Make you feel like a goddess. Treat you the way you deserve.”

It warmed your heart and sent another wave of desire through you knowing he wanted to take care of you. “I know you'll treat me well,” you smiled, opening your legs wider. “But for now, please, fuck me.”

He didn't ask about birth control, which you were on. You didn't ask about condoms. It didn't matter. You wanted to feel all of him.

You glanced down as he lined himself up, watching as he slowly eased into you. It was overwhelming as you took every inch, your mouth falling open with a moan. You floated in a cloud of lust, the sound of his groan reaching your ears.

“Look at me,” he ordered as he bottomed out.

Your eyes flew to his as he gripped your chin. The feel of him inside you, his eyes staring so intently into yours that he practically touched your soul. It was almost too much. And that was when he began to move, the weight of his body on top of yours as he fucked you in slow and deep thrusts. It was the kind of lovemaking that would make you crave more.

Crave him.

“Knew you'd take me well,” he grunted. You whined, the praise going straight to your core as you tightened around his thick cock. Your walls couldn't stop gripping him as he slid in and out. “Knew your pussy would be greedy for me. Won’t let me go.”

Your head fell back against the pillow, dizzy as he trapped your body under his. As he rolled his hips, you wondered if he’d let you ride him at some point. Maybe he’d fuck up into you as he brought your hips down. Or maybe he’d lay back and cup your breasts, let the weight bounce in his hands as you took all of him.

You’d take whatever he gave you.

The growing pleasure within you was like you were burning from the inside out, each movement from him stoking the flames. His low groans mixed with your whines, his thrusts increasing in speed when he brought his thumb to your clit. Your hand worked its way back into his hair as you cried out his name, your control slipping further and further away as he took over.

“Just like that,” he moaned. “Don’t hold back on me. Wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”

“Bucky, I'm gonna…” you trailed off, your orgasm building fast in your core and ready to burst.

“Come,” he finished for you, a filthy smirk on his face as he laced his fingers with yours.

One more thrust and you were gone, his name falling from your lips as you came. Your mouth stayed open as you spasmed, pleasure rushing from head to toe. You panted and didn't care if you'd ever properly breathe again. That was how good it felt.

“I’m close, doll,” he gritted, resembling a growl as he continued to fuck you and chase his release. “Gonna come inside you. Gonna own you.”

“Come inside me, Bucky,” you begged, watching through half-lidded eyes as his face contorted in ecstasy. It was such an erotic sight. “Please.”

He buried himself deep with a long moan as he filled you in hot, thick spurts, nuzzling his face in your neck when he finished. He said your name as he heavily breathed against your neck and it was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. You wrapped your arms around him when he stayed inside you, not at all bothered as your mixed release slowly trickled out.

You didn't want him to let you go.

“Well,” you huffed, a dopey smile on your face as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I don't think we’ll have a problem convincing people we care about each other.”

He chuckled, kissing your warm skin. “And we won't have a problem sharing a bed,” he said, keeping you close as you yawned. “Sleep, doll. I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you, too,” you said, feeling him smile against you as you drifted off.

The delicious ache between your thighs was the second thing you noticed when you woke up. The first, of course, was Bucky’s arm and leg draped over you: warm, protective, perfect. He was still fast asleep, the blanket pooled around his waist, completely at ease with the world. You could get used to waking up like this.

You hesitated before you touched his cheek, not wanting to wake him as you kissed his forehead. You wished you had time to kiss every scar on his body and worship him the way he said he wanted to worship you. The two of you would have to leave the bed sooner or later. There was work to do.

“Mmm. Morning,” he said, his voice laced with sleep as he cracked an eye open.

“Morning,” you whispered, cuddling closer as he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed over the ring. The motion made you brush against his crotch and you were close enough to hear the hitch in his breath. You did it again, keeping your gaze innocent as he opened his eyes more and groaned.

Yes, there was work to do, but it was still early.

“You’re still horny? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last night?” He teased.

“Yeah, I’m still horny,” you replied. Waking up next to him would arouse anyone. “Need you to fuck me again.”

“You won’t be able to walk if I fuck you again,” he smirked, rolling on top of you and digging his fingers into your waist.

“Should’ve known you’d be a cocky boyfriend,” you teased back, your heart thundering in your chest as he leaned down and skimmed kisses along your jaw. “Sorry, we didn’t put a label on this and there’s still stuff to figure out and the mission and-”

“Hey. Boyfriend, your man, whatever you want to call me, I’m yours,” he cut you off, his mouth drifting to your neck. “And I still owe you a date, got it? You’re my girl. You’re mine.”

“I'm yours,” you gasped when he nipped your skin hard enough to sting, his tongue soothing it after. You were his and he was yours. “So, we're a couple now? Just like that?” You smiled as he worked his way back to your lips.

Bucky answered you with a kiss. “Just like that.”

I struggled a bit with this one after having to scrap almost 2k and go in another direction, but I ended up falling in love with it. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[thefallofruins]

Sukuna’s little one is such a daddy’s girl.

She’s always with her dada. Clinging onto him everywhere he goes, practically attached to his shoulder as he has carries her around, especially since she refuses to go to anyone that’s not you or your husband.

A truly spoiled brat is what she was. Her antics knew no ends. She had taken a habit of strolling in the garden every morning with her dada, Sukuna having to slow down his steps to meet the strides of his little girl’s feet as she had barely learnt how to walk and clutched his kimono for support.

As if that wasn’t enough, she was taking after her dada in other aspects as well. Once she was seated on Sukuna’s lap, one of his arms protectively wrapped around her. The scene was a man cowering over in fear beneath Sukuna as he sat on his throne.

And the girl giggles.

He raises a brow to look at his daughter giggling at the sight of the poor man’s fear and smirks. “Why brat, you truly take after me.” He pats her head.

He shoos the man away instantly, “Scram while you can, I’m in a pleasant mood today.”

One day, when her beloved papa leaves for a few days, you notice her missing him incredibly. So you get a brilliant idea, “how about we prepare a little surprise for papa?”

The next week, Sukuna returns, and his first thoughts are to check on you and your baby girl, and she comes running straight to him. He doesn’t take a second to realize that the kimono she’s wearing is modeled after his.

“Dada!” She giggles and waddles to her father, almost tripping in the long garment. She hugs his leg with a soft pout, holding her arms up, “Up!” She demands.

He chuckles and holds her up, propping her comfortably in his arms, “you’re one cheeky brat, aren’t you?” She giggles, wrapping her small hands around his neck to hug him. He chuckles again, patting her back. “Someone missed me, huh?”

Naughty as she is (she has Sukuna’s genes, duh) she loves her pranks. Scaring the servants by sneaking up on them or hiding behind the walls. Of course, it was hard to act afraid of such a cute little girl but the servants pretend to be scared anyways. It makes Sukuna proud, even though you scold him for it.

She has also mastered the tool of emotional manipulation— puppy eyes. Sukuna groans as she gives the puppy eyes to him. You had restricted her access to sweets, but she was the boss around here.

“Fine brat.” He huffs, secretly assured that the puppy eyes are something she’d learnt from you. “You may have the mochi— just do not tell your mother about this.”

Well, let’s just say that mother got to know about this and that the dad and daughter duo were scolded thoroughly.

Regardless, Sukuna is beyond grateful to you for giving him this little bundle of blessing, even though he isn’t sure what he ever did to deserve such a thing. He has only ever felt the need to see to his pleasure, but when he sees you and his baby daughter, his heart swells with pride. He’d shred the world apart to protect you both.

[hoshifighting]

Hear me out, you have a crush on SVT (following them around, giving them gifts etc) but one day you stop doing that and start ignoring them, how do they react!??

when you start to ignore them — seventeen a your crush

hyung line / maknae line

seungcheol doesn’t notice right away. at first, he thinks you’re just having an off day—maybe you're busy, maybe you’re just tired, but then a few days pass, and the silence starts to feel heavy. no more small gifts, no more lingering smiles when you catch his eye. nothing.

he can’t stand it. seungcheol’s the type to act tough, but the way you suddenly stopped all your little gestures? it eats at him. “what the fuck,” he mutters under his breath when you pass him by, not even sparing a glance. his chest tightens. you’ve always been there, always giving him attention, and now… nothing?

he texts you once, just a casual “you good?” but when you leave him on read, something snaps in him. you’re ignoring him on purpose. the next time he sees you, he grabs your wrist, pulling you into an empty hallway. “what’s your problem?” his voice is sharp, but there’s a hint of desperation in it. “did i do something? why are you acting like i don’t exist?”

he doesn’t get it—why you stopped. he misses the attention, misses you, and for the first time, he feels vulnerable, wondering if he pushed you away without even realizing it.

jeonghan notices the shift immediately. he's always been sharp, always able to read people. when you stop following him around, when you stop trying to make him smile with little gifts or compliments, he can feel the change in the air.

at first, he finds it amusing. “oh, so you're playing hard to get now?” he teases, half-expecting you to blush and laugh it off, but you don’t. you just shrug and walk away. and for once, jeonghan doesn’t have a quick comeback. it starts to bother him, more than he’d like to admit. the absence of your attention leaves a strange void. he used to roll his eyes when you'd bring him coffee or leave him little notes, but now? he catches himself looking for them.

he corners you one day, that sly smile on his face, but his eyes give him away. “did you get bored of me already?” he tries to joke, but his voice wavers, just enough for you to notice. when you don’t answer, he steps closer, his fingers brushing against yours. “i miss you,” he admits quietly, his smirk fading. “don’t you miss me too?”

joshua pretends not to care at first. he’s good at hiding his feelings, always calm, always collected. when you stop showering him with attention, he tells himself it’s fine, maybe even a relief.

but it’s not.

he starts to overthink—did he say something wrong? did he push you away? the questions spiral in his head, and soon enough, he’s analyzing every interaction the two of you ever had. one evening, when you pass by without so much as a glance, something in him cracks. “hey,” he calls out, his voice a little too soft, a little too careful. when you turn around, he hesitates, trying to find the right words.

“did i do something wrong?” his voice is small, almost vulnerable. “you used to… i mean, we used to…” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck, awkwardly searching for the right way to say he misses you. he doesn’t want to come off as needy, but the truth is, he misses your attention more than he thought he would. “just… talk to me. please.”

jun doesn't know what to do with the silence. he's never been great with words, always a bit awkward, but he’s used to you being there. used to your constant presence, your gifts, your smiles. so when you stop, he feels lost. he tries to act normal, tries to laugh it off like it doesn’t bother him, but it does. it really, really does.

one day, after you’ve ignored him for too long, he blurts it out. “did i do something to piss you off?” it’s blunt, but that’s all he knows how to be. his eyes are wide, his hands fidgeting as he waits for your response. “you used to… i don’t know, you used to care.” his voice cracks at the end, and he quickly looks away, embarrassed by how desperate he sounds.

he doesn’t know how to fix it, doesn’t even know what went wrong, but he wants your attention back. he misses it, misses you, and it’s killing him that he doesn’t know how to get you to care again.

soonyoung’s never been good at subtle. when he likes someone, everyone knows. and he thought it was the same with you. you were always there, always laughing at his dumb jokes, bringing him snacks after practice, and just hanging around, like you couldn’t get enough of him. but now? you’re distant. cold, even. no more gifts, no more texts, and it’s driving him up the wall.

“are you mad at me?” he asks one day, voice unsure, eyes wide with that puppy-dog look that usually works on everyone. you just shake your head. “no, everything’s fine.” but he knows it’s not. everything’s changed, and he hates it. soonyoung’s the kind of guy who thrives on attention, and without yours, he feels off-balance, like something’s missing. he doesn’t know how to fix it, and the more he tries, the worse it seems to get.

he starts showing off more, trying harder to make you laugh, but nothing works. and it’s fucking with him, making him doubt himself in ways he never has before. because he liked the way you made him feel, and now that it’s gone, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

jihoon is another one who pretends he doesn’t care. he’s always been good at that—keeping his emotions locked up tight, never letting anyone get too close. but you? you somehow slipped through the cracks. you were always there, bringing him coffee when he worked late, leaving notes on his desk with dumb doodles or stupid jokes that made him smile when no one was looking.

now it’s like you’ve disappeared. you’re still around, sure, but you don’t bother with him anymore. no more coffee, no more notes. nothing. he tells himself it’s for the best. that it’s better this way, less distracting. but deep down, it stings. because he liked having you around, more than he’d ever admit. one night, he stays late, hoping you’ll show up like you always used to. when you don’t, he feels a pang of disappointment in his chest. he hates it. hates how much he misses you. he sends you a text, something short and casual: “you haven’t been around much lately.” when you don’t respond, he stares at his phone, frustrated. he throws his head back, closing his eyes. “fuck,” he mutters under his breath, wondering when he got so attached to your presence.

he watches you sometimes, sees you talking to other people, laughing like everything’s fine, and it makes something twist in his chest. he wants to ask you why, but he’s too stubborn, too proud to admit that it’s bothering him. so he stays quiet, burying himself in his work, trying to forget the way it felt to have your attention. but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t shake the feeling that something’s missing.

wonwoo doesn’t say anything at first. he’s quiet, observant, and he notices right away when you stop hanging around, but he doesn’t know how to bring it up.

he tells himself he’s fine with it, that maybe it’s for the best. but then he realizes how much he actually looked forward to your little gifts, your presence. he misses the way you’d light up when you saw him, the way you’d try to get his attention in your own subtle way. when you start ignoring him, it feels… empty.

one day, he finds himself walking up to you, his hands in his pockets, trying to act casual. “you’ve been avoiding me,” he says, his voice soft but direct. “did something happen?” there’s a sincerity in his eyes that’s hard to miss. “i… i miss you. i don’t know why you stopped, but…” he hesitates, glancing down before meeting your gaze again. “i liked having you around. i still do.” he doesn’t push for answers, but the quiet hope in his voice says it all. he just wants you back.

[taeyongdoyoung]

wolf and bunny

summary: you ask your best friend to fuck you in your sleep but your bottled up feelings come out to the surface... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to lovers warnings: cnc/somnophilia, discussion of boundaries, eating out, touching, groping, unprotected sex, spanking, stranger+wolf/bunny roleplay, little red riding hood references, face-slapping (once), size kink, cockwarming, multiple rounds, feelings (ew), pet names, discussion of future scenario 👀 (i know i said this is the end but...we'll see) author's note: hii everyone, this is the third and final part of my wolf and bunny series, thank you so much for going on this nasty journey with me 🤍 part one & part two word count: 2k

You and Chan are having a bit of a disagreement in connection with the circumstances surrounding your next game.

“But I want to know exactly which night you’ll do it.”

“If you know, you won’t be able to fall asleep,” Chan reasons with you. “Kinda like Santa Claus. Kids stay up all night waiting for him and then he never comes.”

“Please, even if the kids were asleep, he’d still never come ‘cause the parents are putting the presents under the tree!”

“It was just a metaphor.”

“A bad one. You’re gonna have to work harder to convince me.”

“Hey, wasn’t this your idea in the first place?” Chan reminds you teasingly. “You’re the one who wants me to fuck her in her sleep.”

“Ey, don’t pretend you won’t be into it,” you shake your head.

You are both so stubborn you don’t see this ending unless one of you retreats. Then, after a brief consideration, you speak again.

“Fine. You can keep the secret of the exact night you’ll do this. On one condition.”

“Sure, bunny, let’s hear it,” Chan listens eagerly.

“If I wake up, you won’t stop. I’ll just pretend I’m still sleepy and we keep going.”

“Is that even possible? I mean, for you to not wake up?”

“It is if you drug me or something,” you shrug.

“Ugh, don’t give me such evil ideas. You never know when I might take advantage of you.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it, wolfie.”

“But are you sure the sleep thing is a great idea? I mean, you wouldn't be able to say a safeword...” Chan can't help but worry, always putting your needs first and planning every scenario in great detail to make sure you're alright. Damnit, could he get any more perfect? He's so sweet and considerate you wish you could just tell him how you feel. But what if that scares him away? What if you lose not only your wicked game buddy but your best friend in the entire world? You wouldn't be able to live with yourself.

“Yes, I'm positive, Chris,” you place your hand on top of his. “I trust you 100% and know that you'll look after me. The question is, do you trust my judgement?”

“I mean, I do trust you. It's just that last time you didn't communicate your discomfort clearly and I wouldn't want to risk messing up to the point of accidentally hurting you,” Chan verbalizes his anxieties.

“I get what you're saying but it's not like I'm open to doing this with a stranger. It's you we're talking about. You've always been great at taking care of people so I know you wouldn't go too far. But at the same time, I wouldn't mind if you went loose. If anyone can take it and accept you fully, it would be me.”

“Yeah, I know. You're right. But just in case, I want you to know beforehand that I care about you and respect you like a lot. So, even if I get carried away, I still want you to feel safe.”

“Aww, Chris, ya old softie! I always feel safe with you, it goes without saying!” you insist.

“Well, I like hearing you say it.”

You gulp nervously. His voice is so commanding and yet so reassuring that your words have never rung truer. He's more to you than a safety net and you hope he knows it. He's incredibly thoughtful and infinitely kinder than the first expression. He's a riddle in the way he keeps surprising you and yet you wanna keep learning more about him. He's hundreds of the loveliest words in the dictionary multiplied. He's more comforting than your favourite blanket. He's warmth personified and you would be an idiot to let him go.

“I'll try to say it more often, then,” you promise. “When I'm with you, I know no harm will come my way. But here's the thing...you're the only one I'd willingly let hurt me.”

“I don't want to hurt you, though.”

“You don't?” you pout, suddenly feeling guilty. Then, what have you been doing? Was he forcing himself to act out these fantasies for your sake alone? You genuinely thought he was enjoying them as much as you were.

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” Chan is quick to explain. “I like our games. I meant that I don't want to hurt you emotionally. Ever.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense,” you chuckle, feeling a little stupid. “Well, you don't need to worry about that. Glad we had this talk.”

“Me too,” Chan gazes at you fondly.

“So, which night are you fucking me while I'm asleep?” you attempt to find out while he has this dazed look in his eye.

“Next- Hey, nice try! I'm not telling you, you impatient devil.”

“Aw, man, I was so close,” you bemoan the uncertainty of your future.

“You wish.”

The long-awaited night finally arrives. Chan has a key to your place so entering it is too easy. He makes sure he picks a night when you’ve complained about being exhausted and sleepy all day long. And he is certain that you’re passed out in your room, not suspecting a thing. Well, a part of you is always anticipating what could happen, but still.

He’s beyond glad to find you sound asleep. You’re wearing nothing but a t-shirt and some flimsy panties. Chan admires your sleeping form for a couple of brief moments before he gets down to business.

He wonders where to start. Should he tear them up? Or maybe push them to the side? Should he grope your boobs through your shirt? Or perhaps slide his hands beneath it, stroking your nipples directly? So many opportunities. He wants to do everything, he decides.

Chan starts by moving your panties to the side and licking your tiny pussy. He touches you with his fingers, gently prodding your entrance but not exactly sticking them inside yet. Then, he sneaks his hand underneath your shirt, teasing your nipples. Fuck, you’re so soft.

He marvels at the knowledge that you’d trust him with something like that. Though the previous scenarios were hot and intense as fuck, this one hits different for him. Maybe because last time you were awake, you were still in control because you could say the safeword whenever. Maybe because you want him at your most vulnerable even in your sleep. Or maybe because he’s slowly falling for you, but he doesn’t know how to say it.

It’s okay. Chan’ll show you, instead. He pinches your nipples lightly and continues to make out with your pussy. You are so wet already it’s adorable. He wonders if you’re dreaming of him, as you shift slightly in your sleep. He wants to drag this out. But how?

He uses his nails to trace circles on your skin, which causes goosebumps to appear. Are you cold? He wants to keep you warm and full at all times. Chan can’t take it any longer and takes his cock out, sliding in so perfectly. As if you were made for him. Made to take his cock and let him do crazy things to you. His sweet little bunny…

You moan desperately and the spell is broken. You’re awake. He wanders if you’ll speak or he’ll have to make you. Both options sound quite appealing. But he wants to hear your voice more than anything.

“Shhh, go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Chan whispers gently.

“W-who are you?” you cry out.

Aw, you’re gonna pretend not to know him? That hurts. But it can be fun, he thinks.

“Just the big bad wolf,” he chuckles at the irony of it.

“Please, don't do this,” you fake not wanting it, even though you've never wanted anything so badly in your life.

“Oh, bunny, but I already am,” Chan replies, spanking your ass a couple of times in the meantime.

“G-gonna split me in h-half,” you mumble, voice muffled against your pillow.

“Yeah? G'na ruin my sweet girl?” he speaks to you so softly you want to melt right there and then.

“Feel so full 'n so s'eepy,” you slur helplessly.

“Aw, tiny, go back to sleep, then,” Chan pats your head soothingly.

“Can't. What a deep voice you have!” you play along too well.

“All the better to degrade you with, my slutty bun,” Chan laughs, while still continuing to fuck you.

“What big hands you have!” you keep saying.

“All the better to grab your tits with,” Chan chuckles and makes good on his promise by playing with your boobs.

“And slap me with!” you remind him playfully.

“As you wish, princess,” Chan growls and slaps you across the face harshly but not harsh enough to actually leave a mark.

“What big eyes you have,” you sigh wistfully.

“All the better to stare at you fall apart,” Chan responds cleverly.

“And what big cock you have!” you scream, barely resisting the urge to laugh. Are you a silly little bunny or Little Red Riding Hood? At this point, you don't care, but it feels too good regardless.

“All the better to fuck you with,” he grunts loudly, spilling inside of you.

You follow rightaway and urge him to stay like this for a while. Maybe round two is in order?

“You know what else is big?” Chan teases you.

“Oh, shut up, Bigfoot!” you reply and are no longer able to hold it in, breaking into laughter. Chan also finds the interaction hilarious and buries his head in the nook of your shoulder. You stroke his hair without realizing. Shit, he's so adorable you almost say the three words. Is it too risky? Too soon? You need a distraction. You need... “Fuck me again.”

“Already? Aren't you tired?” Chan wants to make sure.

“Fuck me till I fall asleep again,” you ask him.

“Um, okay, sure,” Chan looks a bit confused but does as you ask.

This time there is less talking and more fucking but no matter how many rounds you go, sleep doesn't come again. You both orgasm more times than you could count, but somehow, it isn't nearly enough to distract you from the inevitable. You love him. Your heart knows it, your pussy knows it, even your brain knows it but is stubborny telling you not to confess for fear of somehow ruining things.

Once Chan decides he's completely spent for the night, he pulls out of you and rips off the bandaid.

“Are you alright? Something suddenly shifted but I can't quite place it,” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and nudges you softly with his shoulder.

“Do you want the truth that might mess up everything or do you want me to lie to you and say I'm fine?” you ask, even though you're already on the verge to tell the truth.

“With you? Always the truth, please,” Chan clearly states his preference.

You sigh deeply and tilt to the side so you're facing him properly.

“I think...no, I know I love you.”

“I love you, too, babybun,” Chan responds fondly and kisses you on the nose.

“In a non-friendly way. And I don't mean just sexually, either. I mean, the friendly way and the sexual way haven't diminished, of course. But I also love you in a...I want to be yours, your girlfriend, your lover, your romantic partner, your everything.”

Chan is taken aback by your words. You...feel the same?

“You already are,” he confesses genuinely.

“Huh?” you blink in shock.

“I mean...you are already my everything. But, if you'd like me to officially ask you, then...will you be my girlfriend, angel?”

“You...you'll have me?” you are still in disbelief.

“I thought I already had ya,” Chan pinches your cheeks lightly.

“Damn right you do, Mr. Wolf,” you giggle and pull him into a kiss.

He smells like autumn, his embrace exudes warmth and his lips taste like home.

“You have no idea how badly I've wanted to tell you about my feelings,” Chan confesses. “When I found that story of yours in your drafts, I just couldn't resist the opportunity. I hoped that if I turned your fantasies into reality that you'd eventually fall for me.”

“Oh, Channie...I've been falling for you for longer than you realize,” you admit shyly. “How could I not? You're everything I've ever wanted.”

So, this is what it feels like to have the world in your hands. Huh. You could get used to it.

Bonus:

“No, I'm not kidnapping you!” Chan is adamant as you two sit in a nice restaurant.

“But Chriiiis,” you whine. “You said you'd do anything for my birthday.”

“Anything but that!” Chan shakes his head in amusement.

“Why not? It can be fun!”

“Fun? What if something goes wrong, what if someone sees us and thinks I'm actually kidnapping you, what if...hear me out, here, I go to prison for it?”

“Well, duh, then I'd bail you out!”

“As if you could afford it,” Chan rolls his eyes.

“Hey! But seriously, I'll just tell the cops that I asked you to kidnap me.”

“What if they don't believe you and think you have a Stockholm syndrome?”

“I'll...think of something. Come on, we're going too far with the what-ifs.”

“You gotta be prepared for any situation. You'd know that if you carried the heavy burden of being a dom,” Chan tsks at you.

“I'd know that if you let me,” you give him a wink.

“That will only happen the day I agree to fake-kidnap you.”

“So, tomorrow? It's a date!” you grin excitedly.

“Keep dreaming, darling.”

“Oh, I will.”

The End

[harrysfolklore]

yn piastri fretting over oscar’s broken rib and oscar’s like, “gee you’re worst than mum” & nicole’s just like, “yeah i don’t need to worry about oscar when yn’s around”

the rumors are true: i'm obsessed with writing this little scenarios

read little bitch here

"Are you absolutely sure you're comfortable? Maybe we should prop you up a bit more," you hover anxiously over Oscar, adjusting his pillow for the third time in as many minutes." Oh, and do you need more ice? I can run and get some. Actually, should we call the doctor again? Just to double-check everything's okay?"

"YN, I'm fine," Oscar groans, "It's just a broken rib, not the end of the world. I'll be racing in Hungary next weekend anyway."

"What? No, absolutely not!" your eyes widen in alarm. "You can't race with a broken rib, Oscar. That's insane!"

Oscar rolls his eyes dramatically. "It's cracked, not broken. And I've been cleared by the medical team," he stresses, "You're worse that mum sometimes."

From her seat in the corner, Nicole chuckles. "Oh yeah, I don't even have to worry about you when your sister is around. She's got the overprotective mother role covered."

"Thanks, Mum," you say, turning to her. "My therapist has great opinions about it. She says my anxiety comes from a place of love."

"Yeah, well, your love is suffocating me right now," Oscar snorts.

"Osc, I'm just worried about you," you stressed again, "It's too dangerous. What if you crash? What if your rib punctures a lung? What if-"

"What if aliens invade during the race?" Oscar interrupts, mimicking your concerned tone. "What if a meteor hits the track? What if I suddenly forget how to drive?"

"This isn't funny, Oscar! I'm serious!"

"So am I! Carlos nearly drove with a burst appendix, and he was fine!"

Carlos, who's been quietly watching the siblings' back-and-forth like a tennis match, pipes up. "Well, 'fine' might be stretching it. I was in quite a bit of pain, actually."

You whirled on Carlos, who suddenly looked very interested in the ceiling. "Oh, don't even get me started on that piece of stupidity!"

"In my defense," Carlos cleared his throat awkwardly. "I didn't actually race…"

"Only because the team had more sense than you did!" you exclaimed.

"Back when you pretended to hate Carlos but you were at the edge of your seat worrying the entire time he was at the hospital," Oscar teased, making you roll your eyes.

"That's not the point right now," you crosses your arms over your chest, glaring at Oscar. "We're talking about your safety, not my past… concerns."

"Oh, but I think it is relevant," Oscar grins mischievously, sensing an opportunity. "Remember how you kept texting the group chat every five minutes when Carlos was in the hospital? 'Just being a decent human being,' you said. As if we couldn't see right through you."

You feel your cheeks heat up, aware of Carlos' gaze on you. "That's... that's completely irrelevant," you stammer.

"Is that so, hermosa?" Carlos chuckles softly, moving to stand beside you. "I didn't know you cared so much back then."

You shoot Carlos a look that's half embarrassment, half exasperation. "Don't you start. And you," you turn back to Oscar, pointing an accusing finger, "stop trying to change the subject. We're talking about your cracked rib and your ridiculous idea to race with it."

Nicole, who's been watching the exchange with poorly concealed amusement, decides to intervene. "Alright, kids, let's all take a breath. YN, honey, I understand you're worried. But Oscar's right - he's been cleared by the medical team. They wouldn't let him race if it wasn't safe."

"But-" you start to protest, only to be cut off by Oscar.

"No buts," he says firmly. "I appreciate the concern, sis, I really do. But this is my job, and sometimes it comes with risks. I promise I'll be careful, okay?"

You sigh, feeling your resolve weaken. "Fine. But I swear, Oscar, if you so much as wince during that race, I'm storming the track myself."

"Now that I'd pay to see. YN vs. Formula 1 security," Carlos jokes, "My money's on you, mi amor."

As you and Oscar continue to bicker, your mom and Carlos exchange amused glances. Carlos leans towards her, speaking in a low voice.

"Has YN always been like this?" he asks, a fond smile playing on his lips as he watches you fuss over Oscar.

"Oh, you have no idea," Nicole chuckles softly. "This is actually quite mild compared to when they were kids. There was this one time when Oscar was about seven, and he fell off his bike. Scraped his knee pretty badly. YN, who was ten at the time, went into full nurse mode."

"What did she do?" Carlos raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Well," she continues, "She insisted on 'quarantining' Oscar in his room for a week, claiming he needed complete bed rest. She even made a 'Do Not Disturb: Patient Recovering' sign for his door. Poor Oscar was going stir-crazy by day two, but YN wouldn't let him leave. She brought him all his meals, read him stories, everything."

Carlos can't help but laugh at the image. "That sounds exactly like something she would do."

"Oh, it gets better," Nicole grins. "When I finally convinced her that Oscar was fine to go outside, she insisted on wrapping him in bubble wrap before he could ride his bike again. Said it was 'necessary protective gear'. Oscar looked like a little astronaut waddling down the street."

Their laughter catches your attention, and you pause in your debate with Oscar about the dangers of racing with a cracked rib. "What's so funny?" you ask suspiciously.

Before Nicole can respond, Oscar, catching on to the conversation, groans dramatically. "Oh god, Mum, please tell me you're not telling the bubble wrap story."

Your eyes widen in realization, and you feel a blush creeping up your neck. "Mum! You promised never to mention that again!"

Carlos, still chuckling, wraps an arm around your waist. "I think it's adorable, hermosa. You've always been a protector."

"Well control your girlfriend! She's trying to bubble wrap me again, I swear!"

"I am not! Although..." you trail off, a mischievous glint in your eye, "it's not a bad idea for the race. Extra padding couldn't hurt, right?"

"YN, no!"

[starsenha]

COME OVER? / P.S

Pairing ◊ sub!reader x softdom!Sunghoon

Genre ◊ SMUT, fluff, reader and hoon are in a situationship

Warnings ◊ SMUT (minors dni), making out, cursing, kinda jealous hoon??, fingering, rough, softdom!hoon, petnames, unprotected sex (wrap it up), bits of dry humping, mild degradation? (tell me if i missed one!)

Word count ◊ 3,4k

Summary ◊ You and Sunghoon were in a sorta situationship, you agreed at the beginning to keep it no strings attached. But one day, you came over, pretending it was to see his dog Gaeul, but you really wanted to see him.

a/n: not proofread, enjoy!

You stood outside Sunghoon’s apartment, nervously shifting from foot to foot. You'd been here a million times, but tonight felt different. Your heart raced, and you mentally cursed yourself for being so transparent. Your heart was doing that annoying fluttery thing every time you see him. It was infuriating, really.

With a deep breath, you knocked on the door. Almost immediately, it swung open, revealing Sunghoon’s smiling face. “Hey,” he greeted, his eyes twinkling mischievously. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaving you admiring his toned biceps, emphasized by his gray tank top. “Here to see Gaeul, I assume?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a grin. “Of course, Hoon. Who else would I be here for?”

He stepped aside to let you in, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh. “Gaeul! Your favorite human is here!” he called out.

You were barely inside when Gaeul, his fluffy white dog, bounded over to you, tail wagging furiously. You crouched down, giving her all your attention. “Hey, pretty girl! Missed you so much!” you cooed, scratching behind her ears.

Sunghoon stood above you, arms crossed, smirking. “You know, I’m starting to get jealous of my own dog.”

You straightened up, flipping your hair dramatically. “Well, maybe if you were as cute as Gaeul, you’d get the same treatment.”

“Ouch,” he said, clutching his chest. “Right in the heart.” You laughed and he guided to to his living room, his space tidy and clean, like usual. “So, how’s your day been? Or should I ask Gaeul that too?”

You plopped down on the couch, Gaeul jumping up beside you. “It’s been fine. Busy, but fine. How about you?”

He flopped down next to you, close enough that your knees touched. “Same old, same old. But I’ve been looking forward to seeing you. I mean, Gaeul has.”

You snorted. “Sure, Hoonie. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

He grinned, reaching over to tousle your hair. “You’re such a brat, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you love it,” you shot back, winking at him.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Maybe I do.”

Your breath hitched slightly, but you quickly masked it with a laugh. “You wish.”

You were sprawled out on Sunghoon’s couch, Gaeul curled up beside you, her head resting on your lap. As you absentmindedly stroked her soft fur, you noticed Sunghoon shifting beside you, his attention clearly divided between you and the movie you decided to put on.

“Gaeulie, you’re such a good girl,” you cooed, scratching behind her ears again, you knew it was her favorite spot. “I missed you so much.”

Sunghoon huffed dramatically, throwing his arm over the back of the couch. “You know, I’m here too. Just saying.”

You glanced at him, a smirk playing on your lips. “Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning closer until his shoulder brushed against yours. “Yeah, I can tell. Gaeul’s getting all the love tonight.”

“She deserves it,” you said, kissing the dog’s head. “She’s the cutest.”

He poked your side, making you squirm. “Hey, I’m cute too. At least, that’s what my mom says.”

You laughed, playfully swatting his hand away. “Your mom has to say that. It’s in the Mom Rulebook.”

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes, feigning hurt. “You wound me. Seriously, though, can I get a little attention over here?”

You continued to pet Gaeul, pretending to ponder. “Hmm, I don’t know. Gaeul’s pretty demanding.”

His pout deepened, and before you knew it, he grabbed your hand, pulling you up from the couch. “Okay, that’s it. Come with me.”

“Hey, what are you doing?” you protested, though your protests were more for show than anything.

He didn’t reply, just led you down the hallway to his bedroom. Once inside, he closed the door behind you and sat on the edge of his bed, patting his lap. “Come here.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Oh, so now you want my attention?”

“Yes,” he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “And I’m not sharing it with Gaeul this time. Now, come here.”

You sighed dramatically but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Fine, fine.”

You straddled his lap, your knees on either side of his hips. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer. “That’s better,” he murmured, his voice low.

Your heart raced as you leaned in, your lips inches from his. “You’re so needy, Hoon.”

“Only for you,” he whispered before closing the distance between you.

His lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss that quickly deepened. One of his hands slid up your back, tangling in your hair, while the other stayed firmly on your waist, grounding you to him. You responded eagerly, your fingers threading through his hair as you kissed him back with equal fervor.

The kiss grew more intense, your breaths mingling as you lost yourselves in each other. Sunghoon’s tongue teased your lips before slipping inside, exploring your mouth with a familiarity that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel his smile against your lips, the playful edge never quite disappearing, even in moments like these. He pressed you harder against him, and you could feel his boner underneath you, making you squirm. 

He broke the kiss for a moment, his eyes dark with a mix of lust and determination. “You’re such a tease, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

You smirked, running your fingers through his hair. “Only because you love it, Hoonie.”

He growled softly, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. “You’re right. I do.” His hands slid up your back, under your shirt, his touch firm and possessive. “But you need to learn when to shut that pretty little mouth of yours.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he captured your lips again, his kiss silencing you effectively. His tongue invaded your mouth, demanding and unyielding, and you couldn’t help but let go as you melted into his arms. He knew excalty how to make you putty in his hands. 

When he pulled back, his eyes bore into yours. “That’s better,” he said, his tone low. “I like you quiet.”

You pouted playfully, but your breath hitched as his hands roamed your body, exploring every inch with a confident touch, going from your breast to your sides to the small of your back. “Hoonie,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

He smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Yes, baby?” He tilted your head back, his lips attacking your neck with a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses. You gasped, your hands clutching his shoulders as he sucked and nipped at your sensitive skin. You moaned his name slightly, and you could feel his smug smirk on your neck. 

“Good girl,” he murmured against your skin. “I love hearing you like this.”

You shivered at his words, a thrill of excitement running through you. You loved his pet names and how he made you feel cherished and desired. It was addicting. 

“You’re so needy,” he teased, his lips brushing against your ear. “You can’t get enough, can you?”

You shook your head, your breath coming in short gasps. “No, I can’t.”

He chuckled darkly, his hands sliding under your shirt and lifting it over your head. “That’s what I thought.” He tossed your shirt aside, his eyes raking over your exposed skin. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his hands exploring your curves.

You shivered under his touch, your hands moving to unbutton his shirt. “You too, Hoonie.”

He allowed you to remove his shirt, his muscles flexing under your touch. “You’re being awfully good tonight,” he noted, a teasing edge to his voice.

You smirked, leaning in to kiss his jaw, making him sigh in pleasure. “Don’t get used to it.”

He laughed, a deep, rich sound that made your heart skip a beat. “I wouldn’t dream of it, pretty.” His hands moved to your bra, deftly unclasping it and tossing it aside. You opened your mouth to retort, but his hands on your breasts silenced you, a moan escaping your lips instead. He kneaded your soft flesh, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

As Sunghoon’s hands roamed your bare breasts, kneading and teasing, he shifted his grip, guiding your hips to grind against his. You could feel his hardness through his jeans, and the friction sent jolts of pleasure through your body.

“You like this, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance.

You moaned loudly in response, your hands clutching his shoulders for support. He chuckled, the sound low and smug. “That’s what I thought. Such a good girl for me.”

His hands never left your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, making you arch into his touch. Every time you moved, he applied just enough pressure to make you gasp, your hips grinding against him more desperately.

“You’re so sensitive,” he said, his eyes dark with desire and amusement. 

Your breath came in short, ragged gasps, your body completely at his mercy. “Hoon, please…”

“Please what?” he teased, his fingers tweaking your nipples just enough to make you cry out.

“Please… more,” you begged, your voice barely more than a whimper.

Sunghoon's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and his smirk grew even more arrogant. "More, huh? You want more?"

Before you could respond, his hand slipped between your legs, deftly undoing the button and zipper of your jeans. He slid his hand inside, his fingers finding their way to your core through the thin fabric of your panties. The anticipation made you shiver.

“I know exactly what you need,” he murmured, his fingers teasing you through the damp fabric.

With one swift motion, he pushed your panties aside and slid a finger inside you. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, your body arching into his touch. He added another finger, thrusting them roughly, setting a fast pace that made you cry out.

“Fuck, Hoon,” you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders for support.

“You like that, baby?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “You like my fingers inside you, mmh?”

“Yes fuck,” you breathed, your body trembling with pleasure. “Please don’t stop.”

He chuckled, a dark, satisfied sound that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers moved expertly, curling inside you just right, hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars. He knew your body like the back of his hand, every movement calculated to drive you wild. His thumb found your clit, rubbing it in rough, circular motions that made your moans grow louder.

“Look at you,” he said, his tone a mix of arrogance and affection. “Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well.”

You bit your lip, trying to stifle the moans that kept escaping your lips, but it was impossible. He was too good, too skilled. He knew exactly how to touch you, how to push you to the brink of ecstasy.

“Don’t hold back,” he commanded, his fingers thrusting even faster. “I want to hear you.”

You couldn’t hold back if you tried anyway. Your moans filled the room, your body trembling with the intensity of your approaching climax. “Hoonie, I’m so close,” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his voice soothing yet commanding. He started attacking your neck, leaving purple marks all over your neck and collarbone. “Let go for me. Cum for me.”

With a final, skillful twist of his fingers, he pushed you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms. You cried out his name, your body shaking with the force of your release.

He held you through it, his fingers slowing but never stopping, prolonging your pleasure until you were a quivering mess in his lap. “That’s it,” he whispered, his voice filled with satisfaction. “Good girl.”

As you trembled in his lap, your body still reeling from the intense orgasm he had given you, Sunghoon’s eyes darkened with raw desire. He watched you with a predatory gaze, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

“You’re so hot when you cum,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “I can’t wait any longer. I need to be inside you.”

You shivered at his words, the anticipation making your heart race. “Hoonie…”

He silenced you with a searing kiss, his hands moving to rid himself of his jeans and boxers. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, and the thought of him inside you made your core ache with need.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he whispered against your lips, his voice dripping with confidence. “You’re mine.”

You nodded, your brain already turning to mush from his touch and words. With a low growl, he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock teasing your wet folds. “Ready, baby?”

“Yes,” you breathed, your hands clutching his shoulders. “Please, Hoonie.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. In one swift motion, he thrust into you, filling you completely. You cried out, the sensation of him stretching you overwhelming and exquisite.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he began to move. “So fucking perfect.”

Your mind went blank as he set a fast and rough pace, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words. All you could do was cling to him and moan his name.

“Sunghoon,” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. “So good… Hoonie…”

He smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “I know, baby.”

His words only heightened your arousal, your body responding eagerly to his control. He pounded into you with a fierce intensity, each movement pushing you closer to the edge.

“You like that?” he asked, his voice a mix of cockiness and affection. “You like it when I fuck you hard, huh?”

“Yes, fuck,” you moaned, your head falling back as you surrendered to the pleasure.

“That’s my good fucking girl,” he growled, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust even harder. “Take it all.”

You were completely at his mercy, your body a trembling, needy mess. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, but you didn’t want it to stop. You needed him, every inch of him.

“Hoonie,” you whimpered, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m so close.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Cum for me, baby,” he whispered, his voice commanding and soothing all at once. “Cum all over my cock.”

His words sent you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that left you breathless. You cried out his name, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure washed over you.

Sunghoon groaned, the tightness of your orgasm pushing him to his own climax. With a few more powerful thrusts, he came inside you, filling you with his warmth. He held you close, his breath ragged and his grip firm, as you both rode out the aftershocks of your pleasure.

As you slowly came down from your high, you collapsed against him, your body spent and trembling. He held you gently, his hands soothing as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

As you both started to breathe normally again, Sunghoon gently lifted you off his lap and guided you to lie down beside him on his bed. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you, his body warm and comforting against yours. The room was quiet, save for the soft sounds of your breathing and the faint rustle of the sheets.

You nestled into his embrace, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. His hand traced lazy circles on your back, the simple touch grounding you in the afterglow of your shared intimacy. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he took deep breaths, his heart beating steadily against your cheek.

For a while, neither of you spoke, content to just be in each other’s presence. But then, Sunghoon shifted slightly, his fingers stilling on your back. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding under your head, and you sensed he was gearing up to say something important.

“Hey,” he began, his voice soft and hesitant. “Can… I ask you something?”

You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes meeting his. “Of course, Hoonie. What’s on your mind?”

He hesitated, his brows furrowing slightly as he searched for the right words. “I’ve been thinking… about us.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your tone light and playful. “Oh? Is this about how I’m your favorite person to cuddle with?”

He chuckled, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Well, there’s that too.” His expression grew more serious, though, and he continued, “But no, I mean… about us being more than just… whatever we are now.” He took another deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’m not really good at this, talking about my feelings and all, but… I want to be with you. For real.”

Your playful smile softened, and you reached up to cup his cheek. “Hoonie…”

“I mean it,” he said, his voice earnest. “I want us to be a couple, not just whatever this is. I want you to be my girlfriend. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but… I didn’t know how.”

You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, and it made your heart swell with affection. “You’re doing just fine,” you assured him, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “But, are you sure you can handle all of this?

He looked at you, confusion flickering in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

You sighed, nestling closer to him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. “Our lives are really busy, Hoonie. College, work, everything. The reason we kept things no-strings originally was because neither of us were ready to commit to anything serious. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

Sunghoon’s expression softened, and he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. “I know things are crazy right now. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I’m ready to make time for us. I want to be with you, even if it’s not always easy.”

You looked up at him, searching his eyes for any doubt. “It’s going to be tough. We won’t always have time for each other, and it might get frustrating.”

He nodded, his eyes earnest. “I know. But I’d rather have you in my life, even if it means we’re both busy and stressed sometimes, than not have you at all. I’ve been feeling this way for a while, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “You really mean that?”

“Absolutely,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “I love you, y/n. I’ve loved you for a long time, and I don’t want to hide that anymore. I’m ready to commit, to make it work, no matter what.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice touching you deeply. “I love you too, Hoonie. I just want to make sure we’re both ready for this. I don’t want either of us to feel pressured or overwhelmed.”

He leaned in, kissing you tenderly. “We’ll take it one day at a time. And if things get tough, we’ll talk about it. We’ll figure it out together.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

He smiled, his eyes lighting up with happiness. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirmed, snuggling closer to him. “But you have to promise me something.”

“What’s that?” he asked, his arms tightening around you.

“You have to promise that we’ll still be playful and tease each other. I don’t want us to change just because we’re official now.”

He smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Deal. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You spent the next few moments in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the closeness. Sunghoon’s fingers resumed their gentle tracing on your back, and you felt a sense of contentment settle over you.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Me too,” you replied, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You make me happy, Hoonie.”

He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair. “And you make me happy. So, I guess we’re pretty good for each other.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I guess we are.”

As you lay there in his arms, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you’d face them together. And that was all that mattered.

[mysicklove]

cw: sub! megumi, dom! gn! reader, overstimulation, handjobs (as always), dacryphilia, slight sadism in reader, slight masochism in megumi? teasing, "good boy" used once.

wc: 1.3k

a/n: i have been recently hating my writing style guys what do I do </3 also I did this instead of hw so tonight is gonna suck.

“waitwaitwaitwait!” megumi mumbles into your neck for the third time this night. you feel another round of tears drip onto your collarbone, and shaky hands grip your t-shirt in a plea. he was naked — his pale skin seeming to flush a shade of red, and his spine was curved as he caved in over himself.

your thumb circles around the tip, teasing it until you watch another glob of precum bead at his slit. you crane your neck to look at him, using your free hand to tilt his chin up to press a small kiss to his lips. “doing so good,” you mumble into his mouth, and he lets out a broken sob, “staying still and taking it. we don’t need any rope today.”

his whole body feels to be on fire, and with every stroke of your hand, a whole new wave of overstimulation forces another shiver. the boy's mouth hangs open, lip glistening from a mix of saliva from your mouth and tears. “you’re so mean to me."

“poor thing,” you coo, knowing that you aren't going to do anything about his complaint. instead, you use your thumb to brush away some tears. he sniffles at you, nodding his head to hopefully coax some more praise. but your mind travels back to your movements, your wrists twisting back and forth as you focus on the red tip. “but you look so cute like this, i can’t help it, y’know that.”

his head falls back onto your shoulder, and immediately, he plants kisses on your neck, nibbling at the skin to try and distract himself. the top of his dark hair was matted with sweat, but the tips of it tickled your collarbone. you use your thumb to rub at his cheek as you continue to stroke him off, ignoring his sporadic jerks of pain. “can you cum again? just one more time, for me?”

the noise megumi lets out is meek, pathetic even, and he shakes his head into your chest. he has begun to hiccup from the intensity of his sobs, and his hand hasn't moved from gripping fiercely at your shirt. "last one," he breathes, rubbing his nose into your skin, "p-promise its the last one!"

you grab his face again with one hand and begin to pepper it with kisses, successfully wiping away more tears as he whines with shut eyes. his eyelashes are globbed together, and when he opens them again, he narrows them at you, slightly peeved and scared at your lack of response. "promise," he manages to get out before he bites his lip from you rubbing your pointer finger over his slit.

"fine, fine, I promise," you concede, and your hand stops teasing him, instead fully pumping him from base to tip. the act makes his thighs tremble, and you push them slightly more apart to give you easier access. the redness of his cock contrasts his pale skin adorably, and you can't help you're staring as he continues to leak.

"it hurts," he whimpers, mostly to himself, because all he can think about is how overwhelmed he feels. his thoughts are spinning, and even just the slightest touches on other parts of his body seem to startle him due to him focusing his entire attention on trying not to rip your hand off of his cock.

you don't pay attention to the whine, instead just pressing more kisses to his flushed cheeks, nibbling gently at the flesh while he sniffles. but, even with all the complaints and whines he was letting out, you've noticed that his hips have begun to buck back into your hand, only making the lewd noise louder. he tries to pretend that it was you who was torturing him, but his movements were of his own free will.

"you like it now?"

"no!" he says much too quickly, flashing you panicked eyes. "i-i just. 's not my fault!" at this point, you have fully stopped your movements just to watch in admiration of the boy. he was desperate in his movements, and with each thrust of his hips into the makeshift hole a coo leaves your mouth.

"aw, look, now you're getting excited. do you want to cum, megumi?" you purr, brushing his bangs back while twisting your other wrist. his eyes roll back, and his mouth remains open as he lets out quick, short breaths. now, his noises consisted more of moans rather than pained whimpers as he started to chase his high.

"n-no—yes. fuck I-" is all he manages to get out before your mouth is pressed onto his. but he pulls away only five seconds later due to his rapid heartbeat and the need for oxygen to keep up with it. you just chuckle at him and increase your speed, eyes flickering from the sight between his legs and his flushed face.

his thighs begin to squeeze shut, and his moans begin to increase in pitch, a telltale sign that he is teetering near his high. you chuckle at him when he begins to latch onto your neck, planting sloppy kisses to whatever surface he can. "are you close?"

he doesnt even attempt to speak, instead just nodding his head lazily. the act makes you roll your eyes and squeeze just a tad too hard on his dick in warning. he lets out a squeak at the feeling, and this time he does speak up. "yeah. yes. yes. c-close."

you pet his head, satisfied with his answer. "good boy. you can cum, alright?"

another set of tears pools in his eyes, and this time you cock your head to the side. "why are you crying 'gumi? I didn't hurt you that bad, did I?"

"no," he sniffles, "sorry d-dont stop. feels good, don't know why I'm crying. just don't stop!"

"relax. relax. I'm not," you reassure, kissing his face again. "you're lucky you are so cute, with all your demands."

he ignores you like he usually does when you tease him, but you are unsure if it is because he is being his usual self or because he is lost in pleasure.

seconds later, his hands grab at your shoulder, and he goes silent for a breath. then, just as the first rope shoots out, he cries, "cuming! of fuck. fuck!"

your lover's entire body quivers, and his mouth latches into your skin as the first wave washes over him. his eyes roll back and his mouth falls open with a silent scream. more tears come tumbling down his face, and you watch as the most pathetic amount of cum tonight comes dribbling out. it slides down his flushed cock and mixes with the movements of your hands.

eventually, when he comes down from his high and feels the stinging lick of overstimulation once again, he immediately forces your hand off, pinning the white-stained limb to the ground with frantic eyes. then he turns to you, even with his body jerking every couple of seconds from the aftershock, and glares at you — it doesn't hold much effect, considering his cheeks were flushed red and eyelashes were wet with tears, but it was cute nonetheless. "no. more."

you grin at the demand and use your clean hand to ruffle his hair. "your wish is my command, princess."

he narrows his eyes at the nickname, and the man tears himself from your arms. "I am going to shower," he mumbles before using all of his strength to stand up. he takes a step forward, and immediately he comes tumbling down.

megumi pretends he doesn't see the way his legs are trembling, but you see the way his ear twinged red in humiliation. you, of course, use it to your advantage. "need a little help there, Bambi?"

"you're not allowed to touch me for a week," he grumbles but grabs onto your arm and lets himself be left to the bathroom. it was an empty threat, as they usually are.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 15: Bonnie

Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7456 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst

A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

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Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise. 

You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes. 

“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom. 

You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine. 

You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past. 

Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface. 

Even he can’t protect you from this. 

You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing. 

John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem. 

You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry. 

You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one. 

Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep. 

You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness. 

You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned. 

You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?” 

John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.” 

You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief. 

“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades. 

“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.” 

You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.” 

“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.” 

You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake. 

You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it. 

John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what. 

You might never get to know. 

It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep. 

Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent. 

“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you. 

He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons. 

“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.” 

You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any. 

“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.” 

You can only imagine how that went. 

Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously. 

“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door. 

“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own. 

“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.” 

He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between. 

“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..” 

“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you. 

You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do. 

He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does. 

He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.” 

“You're tired.” 

You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright. 

You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”

“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt. 

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm. 

You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again? 

“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.

Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”

“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”

Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response. 

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say. 

“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”

Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”

“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”

“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”

You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger. 

John trusts him, so you should be able to as well. 

Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask. 

Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own. 

He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago. 

“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.” 

He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position. 

“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.” 

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over. 

“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.” 

You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run. 

“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him. 

You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious. 

“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.” 

You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing? 

You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good. 

Is violence and death really the path to the greater good? 

“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil. 

You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.” 

He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head. 

He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.

His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady. 

“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.” 

He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired. 

“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.” 

It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch. 

You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too. 

All he's waiting on is you saying the word. 

He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something. 

The thought makes you want to cry. 

“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump. 

You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?” 

“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book. 

You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being. 

“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face. 

The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal. 

You need to rectify this, and fast. 

You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety. 

Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory. 

“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”

You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.” 

He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less. 

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door. 

You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?” 

Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.” 

Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back. 

“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.” 

You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line. 

Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news. 

“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?” 

“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you. 

“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes. 

“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.” 

He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin. 

“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers. 

“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.” 

Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. 

“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.” 

You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver. 

Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it. 

“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip. 

“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look. 

The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room. 

He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly. 

“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.

“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”

“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”  

“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”

Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.” 

“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”

“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you. 

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him. 

“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.

He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal. 

Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved. 

Well, you suppose he is. 

He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much. 

It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you. 

Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh. 

“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.

You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg. 

“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt. 

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric. 

You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him. 

“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?” 

You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?” 

He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.” 

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you. 

You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely. 

“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread. 

You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you. 

“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face. 

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans. 

You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets. 

“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.” 

You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation. 

“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you. 

Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips. 

He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair. 

“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage. 

“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you. 

The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position. 

“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk. 

He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers. 

His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth. 

You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin. 

“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.

“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock. 

“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday. 

“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.” 

Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs. 

“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand. 

Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm. 

“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips. 

You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other. 

You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his. 

“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.” 

You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position. 

Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck. 

“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat. 

You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life. 

You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat. 

“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.” 

He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again. 

You’re in for a long night. 

NEXT ->

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[kazumist]

DISTANCE MAKES THE HEART GROW FONDER .ᐟ

✩ — or in which they terribly miss you. (implied long distance relationship)

✩ — includes: wriothesley, neuvillette, alhaitham, lyney, and cyno x gn!traveler!reader. fluff. no cws. wc: 415. reblogs are very much appreciated !!

✩ — note: currently suffering from stage four misskonasiyagitis. send help. i wanted to try out writing multiple characters again so here we go, kinda 50 50 w this one tbh

it physically hurts wriothesley to be this far from you. i mean, come on. seriously? commissions in sumeru? sometimes he doesn’t know whether he should hate the fact that you’re willing to take commissions in different regions or admire it. he misses you so goddamn much—it would’ve been fine if you took commissions on fontaine! he rarely goes up to the surface but at least he would’ve caught a glimpse of you every now and then. but nope, wriothesley guesses that he just has to wait.

neuvillette was unfamiliar with the feeling of missing someone. well, that was before he got together with you, at least. but now he’s definitely familiar with it (way too familiar, in fact). he misses you dearly—he misses your spontaneous visits to his office, he misses the lingering warmth of your hand in his. he tries his best to hold his emotions back, not wanting to cause fontaine a random downpour, all because he missed his beloved.

a rare event to see alhaitham lose his composure. recently, kaveh has noticed his roommate space out more often, always blanking out randomly. kaveh wonders what caused his roommate’s current state (not that he actually cares; he was just curious). that was until alhaitham asked him a question. “what can one do when they’re craving the presence of someone who can’t be present at the moment?” oh, so that’s why.

lyney tends to connect his recent shows with things that remind him of you; it kind of makes lynette sick to see her brother in this state. rainbow roses, fontainian pastries, anything that makes lyney think of you. not only that, lyney wouldn’t shut up about you either! lynette cringes, freminet feels bad for her. “aren’t rainbow roses a bit overused at this point?” she asks lyney. he replies with a simple, “rainbow roses could never be overused, dear sister!” lynette could only pray that you return soon.

cyno tends to crack even worse jokes. is that even possible? tighnari has no clue. “did you know what the triangle said to the circle? ‘you’re pointless.’ get it?” cyno tells yet another joke. tighnari facepalms at this point—why must he be the one who endures his friend’s awful jokes in your absence? he doesn’t recall signing up for this at all! “you could’ve pretended to laugh at it. (name) would’ve done so if they were here.” cyno pouts. tighnari sighs in defeat. this is going to be another long day for him, isn’t it?