#Hotel Pet Sitting Services

[pawsativelygoldenpetcare]

Website : https://www.pawsativelygoldenpetcare.com/

Address : Wilmington, NC, United States

Pawsatively Golden Pet Care is a professional, full-time pet care provider and dog walking business with experience in caring for special needs pets, geriatric pets, and even pets with behavioral issues. Our pet sitters and dog walkers undergo rigorous background checks and are trained in pet safety, pet first-aid, and CPR. Our team regularly participates in ongoing education to ensure your pet receives the absolute best care.

Our Certifications & Memberships Include:

Pet First-Aid & CPR

Animal Behavior & Welfare from the University of Edinburgh

The Truth About Cats & Dogs from the UE

Dog Emotion & Cognition from Duke University

Pet Sitters International

Bird Care

Reptile Care Full-Time & Professional

This is not a side-hustle for us. We earn a living by gaining the trust of our clients, and they know we always have their pets' best interests at heart. We go above and beyond every single day because we genuinely love the pets we care for. This is not something that can be faked, and your pets will notice the difference.

We are a full-service pet sitting and dog walking company. This means that all your pet's needs are met, and we don't charge extra for the little things.

Our Services:

Dog walking No more rushing home to let your dogs out. Take back your lunch hour and focus on your career. Fresh food and water are provided along with tons of affection.

Pet sitting Finding trusted pet care is hard. We've removed all the worry and provide world-class pet sitting so you can enjoy your vacation. Love, affection, and cuddles!

Overnights The ultimate in luxury, your pet's new sleeping buddy stays overnight, pampering your pets. Perfect for separation anxiety or those that are just plain spoiled.

Potty breaks Puppies are cute, but they can be destructive. Save your home and your sanity. We do the hard work for you so you can take back your lunch hour and focus on your career.

'Round the clock We understand that your baby needs the absolute best care possible, whether due to special needs or just because you want your pet to live the good life. We have a plan for you. Your pet's individual needs may affect pricing.

Pet taxi It's not always easy to get your pet to where they need to be. While you're juggling work and other responsibilities, let us take the wheel - literally! We can get your pet to the vet and back or wherever they need to be.

Facebook : https://www.facebook.com/PawsativelyGolden/

Twitter : https://twitter.com/PGpetcareNC

Instagram : https://www.instagram.com/pawsativelygolden/

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[petpros]

Veterinary Home Health Care: Compassionate Care for Your Beloved Pets at Home | Pet Pros Services

At Pet Pros Services, we understand that visiting a veterinary clinic can be stressful for both pets and their owners. That's why we offer Veterinary Home Health Care services to provide compassionate and personalized care in the familiar and comforting environment of your home.

Our team of dedicated veterinarians is committed to ensuring the well-being and happiness of your beloved pets. From routine check-ups and vaccinations to medical treatments and examinations, we bring quality veterinary care right to your doorstep.

With our veterinary home health care services, you can say goodbye to the anxiety and inconvenience of clinic visits. Our professionals will address your pets' healthcare needs with expertise, all while ensuring they feel safe, comfortable, and loved.

Schedule a veterinary home health care visit with Pet Pros Services today and experience the convenience and compassion of our in-home veterinary care. Visit our site to find out more!

[starmapz]

wolf in sheep's clothing || s. gojo

❦ satoru gojo x female monster hunter reader || werewolf au

❦ oneshot

❝ most parents tell their children stories of fake monsters to scare them into staying in bed at night. your father told you stories of real monsters to train you for your career hunting them. it's that career that brings you to a small town reporting disembodied limbs and missing people. it's here that you spend your days flirting with the cute coffee shop owner with stunning blue eyes during the day, while your nights are spent setting traps and preparing silver bullets. of course, life has a funny way of making things complicated, as your day life and night life begin to collide unexpectedly. ❞

❦ content ; 18+ only. contains explicit content. f!reader. little bit of angst. hurt/comfort. graphic depictions of violence and death. use of guns and bear traps. rough sex. dominant!gojo. feral!gojo. neck kissing. nipple play (f! receiving). biting/marking. oral (f! and m! receiving). fingering. spitting. throat fucking. choking. implied edging. manhandling. unprotected. hair pulling. dirty talk. dacryphilia. use of pet names (detective, sweetheart, pretty girl, gorgeous, love). praise. creampie. stomach bulge. cervix mention. restraint (using hands). impact play. mating press. doggy. overstimulation. sort of monsterfucking? descriptions of minor medical procedures. no use of y/n. happy ending. kinda porn with plot? gojo's a lovable dumbass <3.

❦ words ; 22.4k.

masterlist

It’s not unusual for your phone to ring in the dead of night. Such is the life of owning a private investigation firm.

It is, however, unusual for that phone to ring.

Your eyes flicker to the landline that rings in place of your cell phone. You keep it paid and connected for the more gruesome side of your business. Sure, you do take regular jobs, after all, you have to keep the bills paid, but the true purpose of your business is a far more dangerous practice.

Your fingers glide along the smooth plastic of the phone as you answer with your name.

“Hey there, um, I’m hoping I’ve reached the right number.”

You sit upright in your chair, pulling your feet down from your desk. “That depends. What service are you looking for?”

“I- well-” the masculine voice on the other side of the phone stammers, at a loss for words. “I don’t know, honestly. I was referred by Higuruma.”

The man can’t see the way your brow raises at the sound of your former client’s name, intrigued. “Go on.”

“I own a forestry business. A week ago my employees began disappearing. The cops can’t seem to find anything and I’m down twelve employees,” he explains. “This morning I found- uh-” he hesitates again. “I found limbs.” His voice is hushed, as though he believes you��ll pin the crime on him.

“Sounds like my kind of job,” you purr over the phone, pulling out a pen and notepad. “My rates aren’t cheap,” you warn.

“I’m… aware.”

“I assume you aren’t in the city.”

“No,” he confirms, giving you the name of a small town a couple of hours away. “I’ll pay for your hotel.”

“Great,” you confirm. “I’ll see you soon.”

With a dramatic clang, you replace the phone in its rightful spot, gather your belongings, and grab your briefcase. Popping it open, you evaluate your options. Given the time of year, you pack an extra case of silver bullets and tuck your gun into its shoulder holster beneath your brown leather jacket before taking off.

–

Sunlight warms your skin as you exit your client’s office. It’s clear he’s aware that he’s likely dealing with something he’s never seen before and he’s reluctant to admit many of the details. You don’t often get clients who aren’t nervous, between the inherent danger of your job and the situations they’re likely in. Not to mention the hefty fee you demand.

Your client had given you permission to take a look around the property, as well as the location of the limbs, though he wasn’t willing to join you. Again, not unusual. Nothing jumps out at you about the property itself apart from the remote location. You assume in the early mornings and dead of night as employees are getting into work or leaving, they’re likely coming across their assailant with little to no defense.

The sight of limbs doesn’t bring you the same horror as it does your client. Throwing on your leather gloves, you shift the disembodied arm to get a better look at just how it was severed. Sure enough, the telltale sign you were expecting to find is there.

Bite marks beyond the size of even the largest bear, flesh torn so viciously no animal could have done it.

A werewolf.

The closest thing to a malicious animal. With the full moon having just passed and the season turning from winter to spring, it’s not unusual for the beasts to begin popping up, specifically ones that are unable to keep themselves under control.

With the sun still high in the sky, you figure there’s no use waiting around in broad daylight for a monster to show up and head back into town. It’s the kind of place where everyone knows everyone and you’re certain you stick out like a sore thumb. There seems to be one central road with most of the businesses laid out along the street and houses and motels extending off of the street on either side.

It’s a cute little town. In another life, you could picture yourself settling down and enjoying somewhere like this, maybe owning a bakery or a small tourist shop of some sort.

But your dad raised you to kill monsters. Not bake bread.

You shake your head at the thought, perusing the nearby shops until you come across a small bakery and cafe, which sounds pretty good right about now. Maybe in another life you could have worked here.

A small bell rings above your head as you enter the shop. The overhead lighting is warm along the autumn brown walls with deep red accents. Fresh-baked buns and other treats line the shelves along the walls and a counter extends along the back of the shop. Stools line one half of the counter and a couple of tables sit along the far wall. There’s a comforting sort of air to the shop as the smell of sugar, wheat, and coffee paint your lungs.

A small smile pulls at the corners of your lips as you make your way to the counter. The shop is empty as far as you can tell, which makes sense for mid-afternoon in such a small town, though you can faintly make out shuffling sounds in a back room.

Barely a moment later, a tall man clumsily makes his way out of the back room with a tray of fresh pastries, still hot from the oven, laid across it. The pastries smell of cinnamon and saccharine sweet sugar, though not as sweet as the man himself looks.

White hair cascades over his head, falling just past his eyes, which are the most enticing shade of blue you’ve ever bared witness to. He’s tall, shockingly so, and his bicep muscles pull the fabric of his pale blue button-up taut in a way that has you shamelessly staring.

“Sorry, didn’t hear the bell!” He apologizes, setting down the tray on the counter and brushing his hands off on his apron. He runs a hand through his hair in an effort to get a better look at you. “You’re not from around here,” he comments, eyes trailing just as shamelessly across the length of your body.

Well, now this trip got a little more interesting.

“I’d take it you don’t get many tourists here…” you trail off, your eyes flickering to his name tag. His name is scribbled in messy handwriting. “Gojo.”

“Can’t say we do,” he confirms, a smirk donning his sharp features. “Can I interest you in something sweet?” You catch the not-so-subtle connotation laced in his words as he leans forward with his palms splayed over the counter and a smug grin.

Returning his smirk with a lidded expression, you tilt your head. “What did you have in mind?”

There’s a shockingly bright gleam in his eyes as though he’s thrilled you’re playing along. He has a sort of boyish charm to his happiness. “Well,” he hums to himself, turning away from the counter to pick up a powdered donut. “I think you might be a fan of our custard-filled donut,” he grins, his voice lowering somewhat as he continues, “they’re my personal favorite.”

As he holds the donut, he squeezes it and the white filling oozes from the holes his fingers make. The double-meaning behind his words isn’t lost on you as you roll your eyes with a scoff.

“Does that one work on every woman who comes walking in here?” You ask snidely with a raised brow.

“Guess not,” he chuckles somewhat bashfully, taking a bite of the donut himself before setting it down on the counter. “I’ll take that one off the list.”

“Good call,” you agree. “You’re lucky that wasn’t your first line with me, I would have walked out.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry about that,” he chuckles, “give me another chance?”

You can’t help the smile that pulls at the corners of your lips. “Alright, Gojo.”

He grins, an infectious laugh rumbling his chest as his muscles pull the fabric of his shirt taut. “Great! Now, how’s an apple fritter or a cinnamon bun sound?”

“You know what, an apple fritter sounds great,” you agree, “oh, and a coffee please!”

“You got it, take a seat.”

The white-haired man turns away from the counter, washing his hands of the powdered sugar and custard from earlier as he busies himself with your drink and donut.

“Oh, shouldn’t I pay first?”

His head flips around as he shoots you the most handsome smirk, eyes crinkling at the corners happily. “Nah, I owe you for my shitty joke,” he chuckles.

You take a seat at one of the stools at the counter, curiously watching the man make your coffee. He moves deftly, flipping cups and switches with practiced ease and a calm expression you find yourself admiring.

It’s impossible to deny that he’s handsome, maybe even too much so for his own good given his horrible attempt to seduce you, though it was harmless in the grand scheme of things. All in all, he actually seemed rather sweet, much like the shop.

“Alright, one coffee, cream and sugar, and an apple fritter. On the house, of course.”

He flashes you that dashing smile, watching happily as you take a bite of the fritter. When your eyes light up and you tilt your head, his smile widens to a grin.

“This is good,” you tell him with a satisfied hum. “Did you bake it?”

He nods. “An hour or so ago.”

“Great suggestion,” you compliment between bites. “Maybe start with this one next time.”

He chuckles again, momentarily avoiding your gaze. “Noted.”

Comfortable silence falls over you both as you make your coffee to your liking, before bringing it to your lips. “You know, I’m starting to think your talent is wasted on a shop in such a small town.”

“Yeah?” He grins, perking up. “As much as I’d love to bring my shop elsewhere, I uh, don’t think I’m suited for the city.”

With a tilt of your head, you hum questioningly.

He just shrugs, glancing off to the side.

Ignoring the way he dodges your question, you change the subject. You’re not about to push a stranger for a response. “Wait, your shop? Do you own this place?”

He nods. “I have help on the weekends but otherwise it’s just me.”

“That’s impressive,” you comment, watching the way he perks up again at the compliment. He has a horribly puppy-like quality about his unabashed happiness that makes you want to pinch his cheeks. That, coupled with his striking blue eyes and gorgeous white locks- you might just be getting a bit ahead of yourself here.

Enjoying the bitter taste of the coffee in your hands, you take a moment to bask in the silence, letting Gojo return to his work. As the man busies himself with cleaning up and moving pastries between ovens, you pull out a folder with information on the case you’re working on.

Returning from the back room of the bakery with a fresh batch of donuts, the shop owner eyes you curiously. “What brings you out here anyway?” He asks as he begins shelving the fresh donuts.

“I’m a private investigator,” you tell him without looking up from your papers. It’s only a partial lie, mostly the truth in reality. Besides, it’s not like the average person believes in monsters.

His brows raise in surprise. “And here you thought I was the impressive one?”

You shoot him a glance, a light blush dusting your cheeks. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” you brush his words off, keeping your head down to hide the obvious effect he’s had on you. Apparently you don’t hide your blush well enough, though.

“Not sure I believe you, detective,” he comments slyly, your cheeks further heating up as you’re unable to hide your smile.

“Not a detective,” you correct him. “Are you like this with all of your customers?”

He chuckles, though it comes out somewhat in the form of a scoff. “I think the old ladies would have my head if I called them anything aside from ma’am.”

You wrinkle your nose playfully. “I’ll have your head if you call me ma’am.”

“Detective it is,” he grins playfully as he finds a spot across from you again. He toys with the string for his apron as you narrow your eyes at him, but you don’t mind the nickname in truth so you let it slide. “So, looking into the disappearances, I’d take it?”

“Private Investigator, Gojo,” you scold him for prying, but he doesn’t let up as he grins at you.

“Nothing happens ‘round here, sweetheart. If you were looking into anything else, I’d be shocked.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair in exasperation. It’s clear that Gojo isn’t letting up, and in reality this side of your job doesn’t demand confidentiality, but you still don’t love to go around discussing details.

“Yeah, I’m waiting for night to fall to go back to work,” you admit, returning your gaze to the handsome man who’s now sitting at the counter across from you, pen in hand as he writes down numbers you can only assume have to do with the shop.

Unexpectedly, his oceanic blue eyes meet yours, swirling with something you aren’t able to identify. He almost looks nervous? “Night?” He repeats after you.

“Yeah…?”

“Alone?”

You roll your eyes. “I can take care of myself.”

His eyes widen as he realizes his words came across offensively. “No, I- I’m sure you can! I just-” he pauses, running a hand through his mildly disheveled hair. “Just be careful, yeah?” He sighs.

You tilt your head, your brow knitting together momentarily as you contemplate his words and mannerisms. Slowly, you nod, deciding to crack a joke to lighten the mood. “This isn’t Twilight Gojo, it’s not like there are sparkly vampires and pretty wolves out there to hurt me. Maybe a fox or deer, though.”

Gojo fumbles suddenly, his pen falling to the floor. He mumbles a curse under his breath, sighing as he picks it back up, clicking it twice. “No, no. ‘Course not.” He agrees, not looking you in the eye as he scribbles something over his notepad.

Huh, tough crowd. Odd.

“Listen, I’ll be fine,” you assure him.

He shoots you a half-baked smile, the atmosphere of the room suddenly strangely tense and you feel the need to escape.

“I should probably go,” you hum, glancing at the time on your phone.

“Oh?” Gojo seems somewhat surprised despite the sudden change in the air between the both of you. Regardless, he shoots you a more genuine smile. “Well, thanks for dropping by. I’d love to see you again.”

You pause, examining his features mid-way through shoving your documents into your bag. He seems serious and the odd tension is beginning to dissolve, so you let your shoulders relax, the tension slipping from them easily as the comfortable silence returns while you contemplate his words.

“I’ll drop by when I have some time,” you agree, smiling. The gorgeous blues of his eyes light up as you agree.

“See you around, detective.”

–

Flipping your flashlight towards the small painted marks you left on the ground earlier where the severed limbs had been laying earlier, you note that they’re now gone. Either someone found the crime scene, or the wolf assumed someone was onto him and cleaned up after himself.

Your grip on your pistol tightens as you point both it and the flashlight around the scene. The wolf is clearly experienced. There are no tracks, either pawprints or shoe prints, left behind and no blood either.

It’s strange, for a wolf so experienced to suddenly start causing problems in such a small town. You would have thought this would be an easy hunt, some new wolf that didn’t know what they were doing getting messy, but clearly that wasn’t the case.

Opening your bag, you grip the flashlight between your teeth and pull out a number of traps.

You set up a number of bear traps, careful to make a note of where you’ve placed them, before also setting a dart trap with a tripwire in small clearings, alongside a number of cameras.

Deciding you won’t get very far for the night if you haven’t already found evidence, you head back to your motel to get some rest.

–

The next few days are quiet. No traps are triggered, the cameras only trigger for the occasional rabbit or deer, and for that reason you find yourself conducting some interviews with the locals during the day before finding yourself at the bakery again.

The shop was much busier on the weekends you found, which makes you happy to see that it isn’t always so empty there, but it also left Gojo’s attention split between the shop and you. Of course you don’t mind, but you’re growing to enjoy his company, and even seek it.

Despite his unideal first impression, he’s a great conversationalist and undeniably attractive. You don’t make a habit of hooking up on the job, especially when you’re only here for a short amount of time, but it’s nice to not be so alone for once.

You expect it to be busy when you enter the shop on a Saturday, but to see multiple staff and nearly every table taken is unexpected. You order a coffee from a young girl at the counter, catching a glimpse of Gojo’s silvery white hair in the back room and smiling to yourself, deciding to take a seat. Maybe you can find a moment to talk with him later.

Setting yourself up in the corner, you pull out your laptop and a number of files as well as a recorder. Now that you’re able to plug the interviews into your laptop alongside some headphones, you can evaluate whether you missed any sign that someone may have been lying to you.

Going through the audio footage multiple times, while crossing all of your data together to see if everything matches, your day slips away from you and before you know it, the only light keeping your work table illuminated is that behind the counter.

So caught up in your work, you don’t even realize what time it is, nor that both young employees in the front have just said their goodbyes to the cafe’s owner after checking again if he’s sure he doesn’t want them to kick you out.

He’s sure.

You lift your head to your handsome counterpart as he pulls out the chair across from you with a smirk and slowly sets his large hand on the back of your laptop, pushing it down. Sitting behind your laptop, you can now see two plates with sandwiches on each. You blink up at Satoru, tilting your head.

“I didn’t order-”

“I know,” Gojo interrupts matter-of-factly with a warm smile. “But I also know you got here around-” he glances at his watch “-eight hours ago and haven’t eaten a thing.”

“Oh.” Your lips purse, continuing to form an ‘o’ as it dawns on you that you have been here that long. “Um- let me pay-”

Gojo shakes his head, smirking. “We’re closed. Consider it on me.”

Your gaze moves between the sandwiches and the smirk pulling at Gojo’s lips. His eyes sparkle in spite of the growing dark circles under his eyes after a long day. His hair is slightly more disheveled than usual and his apron is draped over the chair behind him. You don’t like to see him tired, but the disheveled look is surprisingly sexy on him. The blue shirt he wears has a couple of buttons undone and the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, muscular forearms an easy distraction for your tired mind.

You don’t even mind that he catches you staring as he clears his throat with a satisfied smirk. Blinking, you return to the present and glance around the shop as it occurs to you just what he’s said.

“Wait, you’re closed? Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I should get out your-”

Leaning forward on those muscular arms, he sets a veiny hand on your forearm. “Stay, detective. Consider this paying me back for taking my extremely valuable corner table.” He grins with lidded eyes.

He’s all too easy to give in to and you sit back in your chair, accepting the plate he pushes towards you. Letting your shoulders fall to your side, you pick up the sandwich, observing it quietly before taking a bite, your brow raising cheerfully. “This is really good, Gojo.”

“Satoru.”

“Hm?” You stare at him quizzically.

“My name. It’s Satoru.”

You smile, grateful for not only his hospitality but his presence as well. Though the folks around the town are friendly enough, you really are thankful for his company. You don’t get to keep many familiar faces around in your line of work and bounce from location to location so quickly that any relationship you form isn’t particularly meaningful. You can’t help but feel as though you don’t want this to be the same.

Maybe it’s selfish to feel that way, but you can’t help it. Satoru’s presence is a respite from the harsh world you live in, one that’s free of the worries of what monster will sink its teeth into you next.

“Well in that case, Satoru, this sandwich is really good.”

His eyes light up with mirth as he grins. “I’d hope so. I make a living off of ‘em.”

Casual conversation finds you both easily as you fall into your usual routine of chatting with the handsome baker. It’s as though time stands still when you’re with him, suspended in a moment of contentment.

“How’s your case coming along?” He inquires curiously as he stands with both empty plates, eyeing you from behind the counter.

You sigh in exasperation. “It’s not. Everyone I’ve spoken to has an alibi or their story matches enough that I don’t think it could be them.”

Returning to his seat, Satoru curiously eyes the notes laid out across the table. “Well it’s not her,” he laughs as he points at a photo taken of an older woman.

You blink questioningly at him. “She’s cheating on her husband. If she was gonna murder someone, it would be him.”

You playfully smack his hand. “That’s awful, Satoru.” You reprimand his terrible attempt at a joke.

He grins cheekily, looking over other photos of people from around town. Come to think of it, his help could be useful if he knows everyone. “Is there anyone around here I should be talking to?”

Something flashes in Satoru’s eyes, gone so quickly you wonder if you imagined it. Hesitation? “Honestly, no.”

You grimace. “No one makes you think they might…?”

He shakes his head, a strand of snow white hair falling over his eyes. “Nah. The folks here are older for the most part anyway, a bit beyond kidnapping and murder.”

You run your hands over your face in exasperation. “This is easily the worst time I’ve had on a job.”

He pouts playfully, leaning over the table on his elbows. “C’mon, at least you have handsome company.”

“Real subtle, Satoru. Humble.”

“What can I say?” He grins, a proud look on his features.

You can’t help the smile that mirrors his as you give in to his incessant playfulness. In truth, it’s a breath of fresh air from the knowledge that hidden beneath your jacket lies a pistol loaded with silver bullets.

He’s a respite from the reality that you could very easily be devoured by a werewolf if you miss any details. Of course, you’re confident in your abilities but that is the reality of your line of work.

Still, as you look over the photos of nearly everyone in the town that you’ve spoken to, you’re somewhat at a loss. Werewolves don’t make a habit of hunting far outside of their homes, so it wouldn’t make sense for it to not live nearby. After all, werewolves aren’t like real wolves. They can’t live with ease in the forest, they still yearn for a real bed and human company.

You have explored the idea that maybe it is mostly feral, but you should have caught a glimpse of it on the cameras if that’s the case.

“It’s been nice,” you mumble after a moment’s silence. Gojo tilts his head, gorgeous blue eyes glinting in an almost inhuman way, but you suppose he likely gets that comparison a lot given just how striking his eyes are. “I mean… Having you around.”

Sitting straight, he smirks. “Gonna fuel my ego so easily, sweetheart?”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late.”

He gets to his feet suddenly, extending his hand to you. You tilt look up at him quizzically. “C’mon. Let me take you out.”

Your cheeks heat up as you struggle to hide your smile and take his hand. Satoru grins easily, attempting to tug you along. “Wait wait, let me clean up!” You insist, giggling to yourself.

Satoru groans chidingly, staring at his watch as though you’re taking up his time. Once your bag is packed, you attempt to sling it over your shoulder, only for the man at your side to intercept and throw it over his shoulder.

You shoot him a thankful grin, taking his hand again and letting him lead the way out. “Where are we going, anyway?”

He glances back at you, his eyes glinting inhumanly again. Your eye twitches as you wonder whether you imagined it or not, pushing aside your doubts. Satoru is sweet to you, you have no reason to doubt him.

“There’s really only one place still open,” he smirks, batting gorgeous white lashes at you with a smirk.

“If you say your house or something stupid-”

“Ouch, first of all,” he chuckles at how low you expect him to go.

You scoff impishly. “Need I remind you of the donut incident?”

His cheeks heat up as he scratches the back of his undercut. “No need,” he chuckles. “Anyway, there’s an ice cream place a couple of blocks away that’s open late.”

“Taking me for ice cream, Mr. Gojo?”

“I mean, my house is open as-”

You smack his arm mischievously and he laughs heartily, the sound rumbling through his chest. The sound spreads warmth through your veins and you inadvertently find yourself walking closer to him.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Mostly,” he shrugs, unapologetic as he eyes your ass, though you decide to let it slide this time.

Turning the corner, a single shop with the lights still on comes into sight. The street is filled with broken neon signs and you recognize your motel just down the street, one of the few businesses with signs still lit. ‘Vacancy’ glows at the end of the street, a sight that feels like it may have been eerie without Satoru at your side.

Focusing on the little ice cream shop, you realize you were here yesterday interviewing the owner. She was a kind older woman, just as most of the townsfolk had been, although you had paid little attention to her occupation.

Getting a better look at the shop, you realize the decor is 80s themed, or more specifically it hasn’t been updated since then, although it seems well maintained and cared for. Blue striped walls and a cloth overhang welcome you into the dainty shop, soft serve machines lining the back and buckets of ice cream in a freezer at the front.

“Satoru, it’s good to see you, son!” The woman exclaims. He grins, greeting her in return. They exchange casual niceties and you realize Satoru likely does have a good idea of who everyone is if they’re all coming in and out of his bakery as much as today would have you think. “What can I grab for you?”

Satoru motions towards you as you gape up at the menu.

“The soft serve’s the best, sweetheart.” He purrs, leaning into your ear as he loops an arm easily around your waist. The contact sets your heart racing, keeping you warm in the cool shop.

“I’ll have- uh- the salted caramel soft serve, please,” you smile politely at the elderly woman, who pulls out a cone and begins to swirl the ice cream into the cone, handing it to you. She doesn’t even take an order from Satoru, repeating the process with ice cream so blue you can only assume it’s cotton candy or something similar as she hands it to the man.

Heading up to the counter, you pull out your wallet to pay. Satoru clicks his tongue, pulling your wallet straight from your hands and holding it well over his head as he pays with his other hand.

“Satoru! Give it back!” You giggle, hopping in an effort to reach it, but between his height and his lanky wingspan, you’re nowhere close to retrieving your belongings.

The kind woman across the counter chuckles in delight, her eyes shut and wrinkling at the corners happily. “Enjoy, darlings.”

You smile thankfully at her, resting a hand on Satoru’s very built chest that has you reeling mentally as you reach for your wallet. Grinning at you, he finally relents, handing it back to you. “I invited you out, you aren’t payin’,” he reprimands you with lidded eyes that flicker down to your lips as he gets closer to you.

Taking your wallet back and shoving it in your coat pocket, you smile gratefully at him. “Well, thank you, then.” Eyeing his ice cream, your brow furrows. “What flavor did you get?”

“Superkid.”

Wide-eyed, you stare at him. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” he pouts in mock offense.

You can’t help the laugh that bursts from your chest as the handsome man beside you, your date, orders arguably the most embarrassing flavor. Somehow the man competently running a successful bakery and cafe is the same one standing before you with a boyish pout and a mouthful of the bluest ice cream you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

“It’s good!” He insists, brow furrowed. “‘Sides, she ran out of my usual yesterday.”

“Your usual? What’s that, cotton candy with sprinkles?”

His eyes narrow. “Mochi,” he insists as he tugs you along to a bench just outside the store, pulling you down alongside him. He rests an arm over the back of the bench around your shoulders, nudging you to lean into him.

He’s warm despite not having a jacket in the autumn air. It’s not overly cold, but he certainly runs hot based on the heat radiating from his body.

“Moving on from my taste in ice cream,” Satoru remarks with playfully narrowed eyes, “tell me about yourself. What made you want to be a private investigator?”

“My dad was one,” you begin, staring out at the empty streets of the small town. The area near your bench is lit only by a streetlight a short distance down the road and the glowing neon of a busted sign for a pharmacy that closed hours ago. “He used to bring me along on trips with him from time to time, so it came naturally,” you explain most of the truth, only leaving out the portion about monsters and strange creatures. He doesn’t need to know that part, it’s safer anyway.

“He used to bring you with him?” He asks, somewhat bewildered. After all, it’s not exactly the most child-friendly job.

“Times were tough,” you shrug.

Taking that as a sign to quit pushing, Satoru nods.

“What about you? Have you always wanted to bake?”

He chuckles. “Nah, it just came naturally and was sorta to spite my parents.”

“Spite them?” You tilt your head up at him, admiring the sharp curve of his jaw.

“Gojo Corp. My parents own it, I was supposed to take over,” he frowns, fixing his eyes on the street light.

“In Tokyo?” You gasp, having not made the connection between his last name and the massive corporation.

He sighs. “That’s the one. I was meant to take over but that’s just… not for me. There were some other things that made it tough but either way, baking comes naturally to me so it just made sense,” he explains with a shrug. He stares down at the ice cream in his hand, eyes glimmering with the memory of his past.

“I think the bakery suits you,” you tell him. “You clearly have a talent for it.”

He chuckles, an easy smile finding his lips as he rolls his shoulders backwards and relaxes. “Thanks.”

As he speaks, you catch a glimpse of his tongue and lips and have to hold a hand over your lips in an effort to stifle your laugh, but your date feels your body shake with the held back chuckle.

“What?” Narrowed eyes examine your expression as he watches you burst out into a fit of giggles.

“Your, um, lips.”

He blinks inquisitively at you before the realization hits him. “They’re blue,” he deadpans.

“They’re blue,” you confirm between giggles.

He sighs in exasperation, unable to hide his embarrassed smile. “God, I didn’t even think about that.”

“No, no, it’s nice. It matches your eyes. It’s like lip gloss,” you simper.

“Great,” he groans with an unamused expression, though the glimmer of joy in his eyes tells you otherwise. Even as he attempts to be unimpressed, he can’t help the laughter bubbling in his chest. Conversation, spending time with one another, silence, it all seems so easy in his presence.

As the night grows late and the elderly lady bids you goodnight as she closes her shop, you’re reminded that you’re here for a reason and glance down at your watch. “I should get going. I need to do some work,” you tell Gojo.

His eyes flash with disappointment, but he nods. “Let me walk you to your motel?”

“How gentlemanly.”

He grins, offering you his bicep. You take it happily as your cheeks heat up. Of course you don’t want the night to end, but you can’t miss your chance to do your work.

As you reach your door, Satoru turns to you, taking your other hand in his. Lidded eyes glimmer as they rake your figure, hungry and eager. A shiver climbs your spine like lightning as heat pools in your stomach. Although goofy and carefree, there’s something undeniably alluring about Satoru.

“You know, detective,” he purrs as he leans in closer to you, eyeing your lips. “You haven’t interviewed me yet.” He takes a step forward, resting his hands on your waist as he examines the way your body molds to his, pliant to his suggestive touch.

“Is that so? I seem to remember asking you some questions at dinner,” you tease, playing his game.

“I’m pretty suspicious, you should see my taste in ice cream,” he insists, eyes flickering to your lips hungrily. His grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you closer, his warmth radiating against your skin.

“That is pretty suspicious,” you agree, tilting your head to give Satoru access to what you both yearn for. His lips capture yours, moving softly as his sugary taste invades your mouth. He deftly wraps an arm around your lower back, one hand raising to cup your face as he deepens the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth as he tilts your chin with his thumb. You slide your arms up his chest to his neck, loosely wrapping them over his shoulders.

You press your thighs together, a light gasp escaping your lips when Satoru pulls away. His pupils are blown, the blues of his eyes nearly invisible behind their lust-filled glimmer.

He examines your expression, searching for something, anything, whether it’s denial or an invitation. He hopes for an invitation.

“Satoru?”

He hums.

“My key card. Back pocket.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” he groans, sliding his arm from your waist to squeeze your ass before he pulls the card from your pocket. You let your fingers explore his undercut, fisting a handful of his hair when the door behind you swings open and Gojo pushes you in, pressing you against the closed and locked door. His lips don’t leaves yours as your bag slides off his shoulder to the ground with a thump.

“Jump,” he commands into your lips, voice darkened with lust. You hold tight around his shoulders, jumping into his arms as he supports your thighs with strong arms when you wrap your legs around his waist.

Finally parting from your lips, he presses sloppy and eager kisses up your jaw before nibbling on the sensitive skin at the base of your neck. He pulls a whimper from your lips, that one sound acting like fuel to the fire that is Satoru. His teeth sink into your neck, breath coming out in huffs as he stumbles to move you to the bed.

You gasp at the feeling of his teeth marking you, raking your nails down his clothed back. You move to unbutton his shirt, eyes raking the length of his toned figure. He’s muscle as far as the eye can see, far more built than you can possibly imagine for a baker.

His chest heaves with want as he leans back down, gripping the sheets beside your head in his fist. He runs his tongue once soothingly over the mark he’s left on your neck, returning to your lips.

He slips his hands under your jacket before pausing, confusion flooding his features. “Is that a gun?” He asks, breathless.

Sitting up on your elbows, you shuffle out of your jacket and unbuckle your holster. “I’m a PI, Satoru.”

“Right. Yeah, sorry.”

You set it aside carefully, examining the way Gojo seems somewhat shaken by it but one look at the tiny tank top that’s the only layer between him and your chest has that dark look flooding back into his eyes.

He moves slowly, almost teasingly, as his fingers hook beneath the straps of your tank top, slipping them off your arms before sliding the tank top over your torso. He lets out a terse breath, admiring your curves and the way the moonlight flooding the room glistens on your gorgeous skin like glass.

“Shit, I’m one lucky man,” he whispers, letting you pull him down for a sultry kiss before exploring your chest with his lips. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you moan as he nibbles and sucks on skin, leaving marks all across your chest until he reaches the swell of your breasts.

Like a beast let loose, his teeth suddenly sink into your plush skin, pulling a cry from your lips in surprise at the feeling. Even more so as it feels good when the warmth of the flat of his tongue soothes the pain so gently afterwards. He looks up to you to make sure he hasn’t truly hurt you, before continuing with his ministrations as he sucks your nipple between his lips.

His tongue swirls the sensitive hardened bud, your moans like music to his ears that drive him on as he flicks your other nipple with his free hand. Your name leaves his lips in a moan when you tug on his hair. Completely drunk on you, lidded eyes lift to meet yours. He admires your blissful expression only for a moment before moving upwards to capture your lips in a kiss.

“Do me a favor, detective,” he mumbles against your lips, his breath fanning your face between each word. “Take my belt off.”

You do as you’re told, not needing to look at what you’re doing to tug the leather strap from its buckle and let it drop to his feet. You follow suit with your own clothes, pushing your pants down to your ankles and kicking them off.

“Good girl,” he purrs in your ear, nibbling on your lobe momentarily as he easily undoes your pants, pulling them to your ankles before tossing them aside. You use the opportunity to wrap your legs around Satoru’s waist and tug him closer. He shoots you a lustful grin, wasting no time in grinding his hardened length against your soaking wet core.

Moaning, you press your thighs into Satoru’s sides, bucking your hips in an attempt to relieve the pooling heat growing steadily in your core, soaking your panties. “Shit, you’re wet for me, sweetheart.”

“Shut up, S’toru,” you whisper breathlessly, bucking your hips again. Leaning over your figure, he grins as he watches your eyes roll back when he grinds his pulsing cock against the swollen lips of your cunt again.

“Make me,” he taunts in a low, almost animalistic, growl.

You waste no time carding a hand through his hair before gripping a fistful of snow-white strands. You push his face down until he’s eye to eye with the wet spot pooling in your panties. Satoru breathes in shakily, eagerly licking a stripe up your clothed pussy.

“Fuck, pretty girl,” he breathes, hooking two fingers beneath the fabric as he attempts to pull it aside, ripping it in the process. “Oops,” he mumbles unapologetically, pulling what remains of the material off and tossing it aside.

“Wh-”

Before you have the opportunity to question him, he dives in like a man starved, a long and skilled tongue ripping a gasp from deep in your throat as you arch your back beneath him. Satoru’s tongue moves deftly deep in the chasm of your cunt as he explores your folds, pussydrunk eyes watching your every reaction to see what makes you squirm.

You wouldn’t have imagined the baker of a small town in the middle of nowhere to have the tongue of a god, but he may as well be ruining all other men for you already.

Plunging his tongue deeper into your entrance, he nudges your clit with his nose, eliciting a loud moan from you as you gasp his name like a mantra, one fist tightly holding his head flush to your core while your other fist grips the sheets.

The way Satoru moves his tongue sends you diving quickly towards an orgasm, the knot in your stomach binding and tightening every second as your thighs tighten around his head. He groans at the feeling, tugging your thighs down with strong arms until you’re completely at his mercy, unable to do anything but buck your hips.

No man has ever eaten your pussy quite like Satoru and he knows it. With one last slow ministration, he pulls his tongue from within your core, licking his lips with a pleased hum. He pulls back only for a moment, eyes focused on your expression as he spits onto your cunt, blowing on your entrance like the tease he is.

“T-Toru-” you gasp, arching your back further. He grins, dipping back down to suck your clit so perfectly you almost come undone right then and there. When your whole body jolts from sheer pleasure, he lets go with a pop before using the flat of his tongue to bring you back to the edge, slower.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groans against your clit, moving one hand from its place holding down your thigh to run his pointer and middle finger through your folds, coating them in your slick as you whimper at the friction. “Cum on my fingers,” he goads before licking one slow stripe up your clit.

As you whimper out his name while writhing beneath him, he takes the opportunity to slip one finger in your cunt, curling it as he watches how you arch and squirm so pliantly for him. His middle finger easily glides into your core with a squelch that has Satoru groaning against you, setting your entire body alight. With two long fingers, he curls them until he finds the spot that has you singing his name, your eyes rolling back as you cling to him, to the sheets, to anything your fingers can find.

“Sa- toru-” you babble, earning a groan in response when you tug on his hair. “‘M so close.”

“Let go, gorgeous,” he purrs, the vibration of his voice sending electricity up your spine as he quickens his ministrations. The knot in your stomach tightens and with one final ‘come hither’ motion, applying just the right amount of pressure to your g spot, your orgasm crashes over you like a wave. Your whole body trembles in his grasp, your legs quivering around his head as he works you through each jolt, each wave, of your release as you whimper helplessly.

Laid out so pretty beneath him, he can’t help the pussydrunk grin he shoots you, resting his cheek against the plush of your thigh. “I could get used to hearin’ you scream my name,” he comments slyly, getting to his feet and giving you no time to come down from your orgasm.

You yelp when he grabs you by the ankles, tugging you to the edge of the bed. You’re too blissed out to notice the way his pupils glint in the moonlight as his voice lowers, suddenly dark. “On your knees,” he commands with a smirk.

You obey, entirely pliant to his touch and too fucked out to resist his dominant commands. Your lidded gaze doesn’t leave his as he eyes you needily, palming his erection through the tent of his pants.

You waste no time as you free his cock from the confines of his pants and boxers, letting both fall to his ankles on the floor before you as his cock stands alert. Your eyes widen as you take in the angry red of his cocktip, leaking and twitching for you. He’s long, and thick, protruding veins pulsing with need that goes straight between your legs, already dripping for the man before you.

“Look ‘t me,” he growls, letting his tongue glide over his lips as you run the flat of your tongue up the base of his cock, flicking the slit. He hisses, his head falling back in pleasure as he lets you tease him, swirling your tongue around his tip erotically. His mouth falls open, panting heavily with lust.

In truth, you could tease him for hours if it meant getting to see the way his body shivers and jolts with your touch, but with each minute movement, you know he’s one step closer to fucking your throat himself.

Bringing your hand up to the base of his shaft, your fingers not meeting as they around his thick length, you pump your hand up and down painfully slowly as you purse your lips. Smirking, you place a teasing kiss over his frenulum, pulling a guttural growl from the man.

Gojo’s fingers tangle in your hair, fisting it as he moves you back to his fat cock. “Don’t be a tease, gorgeous,” he groans, positioning his fat cock against your pursed lips. “Now be good,” he instructs. You whimper as you hollow your cheeks, sinking down on his cock and swirling your tongue around it.

“Shit,” he pants out a moan, not daring to let his eyes leave yours. You moan around his length as he finds the back of your throat, and just like that whatever restraint he had snapped. Like a predator staring his prey down, his hand in your hair pushes you into the mattress as he holds you still. Sinking his cock into your throat, he tests your limits as saliva slips down your chin, tears forming in your eyes.

“Good girl,” he praises as he gives you a moment to adjust, pulling back to let you breathe with whatever restraint he has left. Gone as quick as it came, he snaps his cock back into your throat, prodding the back of your mouth and ignoring your gags, meanly using your throat for his pleasure.

His grip on your hair loosens and you use the opportunity to bob your head forward, moving in time with his thrusts as tears stream down your cheeks from the way you choke on his girth. Satoru growls, darkened eyes admiring the way you look up at him through fluttering lashes.

Satoru’s thrusts speed up, growing relentless as he approaches his high, his cock twitching as his thrusts grow sloppy. He releases your hair as he reaches his climax, holding your hollowed cheeks gently as his cock jerks between your velvety lips, his seed seeping down your throat.

“Swallow.” He pants out commandingly, tilting your chin to watch you better. A hint of a smirk pulls at the corners of your lips as you follow suit, your throat contracting around his member. His entire body jerks with the feeling of your throat closing before he pulls out. You loll your tongue out for him and he grins.

“Shit, you’re hot,” he whispers with a hint of disbelief, shaking his head. As you catch your breath, he leans down to kiss your cheek gently in a stark contrast to the way he roughly used you moments ago. He follows suit with the other cheek, kissing away your tear before using his thumb to wipe away the trails left behind.

Pulling you up carefully by your waist, he sets you on the edge of the bed, tilting your chin up to him. “Not too rough, sweetheart?”

“No, just fuck me already, Satoru,” you goad, pulling him down by his neck to capture his lips in a kiss. Your pussy is already pulsing in need of him and you aren’t about to waste any time when you’re still absolutely dripping for him.

He pulls back an inch only to chuckle slightly. “You’re gonna drive me crazy, y’know that?” He draws your lower lip between his teeth, gently biting down as he easily picks you up without disconnecting your lips and plops you further up the bed. With your head now on the pillows, he lines himself up at your entrance, pulling back only to look to you for consent.

Your hips buck involuntarily as you nod your head when you feel his tip brush your clit. Whimpering, you hardly hear the way his voice lowers again, growing commanding and impatient. “Words, detective.”

“Y-yes, Satoru,” you mumble breathlessly, gripping his shoulders tightly. He’s gentle at first as he glides past your puffy lips, biting his lower lip with a sharp canine. He’s slow as he sinks in, filling you up as he stretches your walls around his thick member. He’s slow to bottom out, sure not to lose control as he lets you adjust to his size.

He leans down to kiss your neck, nibbling softly in the tender area he’s already bruised a harsh marking into your skin. When you whine, he laps at it softly and places a gentle kiss on the purpled skin. Leaning over you, he holds himself up with his elbows and whispers in your ear. “Y’ take me so well, pretty girl.” His white hair drapes down over his forehead, tickling the sensitive skin he’s marked.

Just as he whispers such sweet songs in your ear, he begins moving and elicits a moan from you with his slow ministrations. His cock brushes your g spot with each and every thrust that sends you reeling as pleasure climbs your spine and pools deep in your stomach.

When you throw your head back with a whimper of “T-Toru don’t stop- please-” he absolutely relishes in the way you beg, setting his senses alight with need once more. Holding himself up on only one elbow, he runs his thumb over your lower lip, pleased when you part them willingly for him, taking his thumb between your lips and swirling your tongue around it with a moan.

Satoru groans gutturally, pulling his thumb from your lips with a pop and swiftly pulling out of you.

“What-?”

You don’t have time to finish your question as he flips you onto your hands and knees, pressing your upper body into the pillows before his hand lands on your throat. You have half a mind to wonder if you feel something sharp dangerously close to your pulse, but the feeling’s gone before you can think too hard on it and you’re too fucked out to care either way.

Placing gentle pressure against your throat, he holds you in place by your neck and positions himself behind you again, prodding your entrance with his tip. Without warning he slams into you, nudging your legs wider apart for him until he can reach your cervix, bullying his cock into you.

Your toes curl, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as he restricts your air, pleasure and pain mingling so deliciously as you teeter dangerously close to the edge. “I’m- hah- close,” you babble, gripping at the sheets beneath you for purchase.

“Give it to me,” Satoru moans, cock jerking within you. “Wanna feel you cum ‘round my cock,” he pants, relenting on your throat as he moves his finger up to his lips, wetting it and sliding his hand up your stomach, hissing as he feels the bulge of his thick length bulging in your stomach.

His slicked finger finds your clit as he rubs circles around the hardened bud in a practiced motion, pushing you closer and closer to your climax when it hits you like a tsunami. Your body writhes, legs quivering as you struggle to stay arched while Satoru’s name pours from your lips.

“Toru- T-Toru, god I-”

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he coos, continuing to fuck you through your high as he chases his own. You squirm at the overstimulation as your cum forms a ring around his base, but he holds your hips firmly in place with a bruising grip as he picks up his pace. His nails dig into your skin, strangely sharp until he begins to grow sloppy and with one final thrust, unloads into your dripping cunt, painting your walls white.

He pants as he falls over your arched form, placing gentle kisses along the bottom of your spine.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?”

You chuckle breathily at his kind words. “You’re not so bad yourself, Satoru.”

“I think I was starting to like Toru, actually,” he whispers against your back, inhaling through his teeth as he pulls out. He stands back for a moment, watching your body slump to the bed as his cum leaks from your pussy, glistening illustriously in the moonlight.

Tiredly, you flip to look at him with a lazy smile. Satoru leans down, caressing your cheek before sliding his hand down to the swollen marking at the base of your neck. Your eye twitches, giving away how tender the skin is.

“I’m sorry, love,” he mumbles, kissing the skin with soft lips.

“It’s alright Toru, I can hardly feel it,” you smile reassuringly at him. Of course, you have yet to see just how marked up your entire body is.

Satoru hums, capturing your kiss-swollen lips with his in another soft kiss. “Is it bad of me to want another round?” He growls dangerously as his breath warms your face.

“Give me a day at least,” you laugh playfully, still feeling the effects of his bruising grip on your hips.

He smiles against your lips, but pulls back to grab a towel and get you cleaned up. When he returns, he’s careful to be soft and gentle with you, kissing your thighs as he cleans up the liquids leaking from between your legs.

He tosses the towel aside, standing with a furrowed brow as he stares around your motel room. His eyes trail from the deep red of the old blinds to the tacky forest green comforter you lay on.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I-” he pauses, seemingly gauging your reaction as he examines your expression carefully. “I wouldn’t feel right leaving you tonight.”

You blink in surprise. You’d  honestly expected him to return to simply flirting at the bakery and keeping casual sex on the side. It’s not like you’re from here anyway, it doesn’t make sense to pursue anything more than casual, but the look on his face tells you otherwise.

You shouldn’t get attached, either, you have a job to do and you should be heading there now. Hell, you should have been heading there an hour ago. By all accounts, you should let go of Satoru and forget this ever happened.

Your eyes rake his body once, admiring the peaks and valleys of his sculpted abs and the sharp edge of his collarbones, landing finally on his face. He’s deathly serious for once, the knit of his brow such a cute sight that you’re not sure you can resist him anyway.

Besides, you would be lying if you said he didn’t just dick you down better than anyone in your life.

That aside, he’s handsome and sweet, has his life figured out and the idea of having feelings for him isn’t that absurd. You’ve spent a fair bit of time with him over the course of the week and everything felt easy with him.

A smile pulls at the corners of your lips. “Then stay.”

His eyes light up, swirling with galaxies of mirth and calm as he pulls his boxers back on and sits on the edge of the bed. “And for the record, I’d like to take you out.”

“Didn’t we just go out?” You ask, though you aren’t opposed to going out again.

“For dinner, not a sandwich I made or ice cream.”

You can’t help the grin that spreads across your features. “I’d love that. Are you sure you don’t want to add bright green ice cream to the menu for our next date?”

“I’d sooner take a bullet to the chest,” he pouts, playfully sticking out his lower lip. The blue has been long gone since before you got to the motel, but you can’t resist teasing the poor man.

He runs a hand through his mussed hair in an attempt to fix it to no avail, getting to his feet to pick up your shirt and toss it to you to sleep in. You pull it on over your torso, crawling under the covers and holding them up for Satoru to get into the bed beside you.

“Tomorrow night? For our date?” He asks through a yawn, pausing suddenly. “I uh- wait, no, I have to work late tomorrow for a catering order on Monday. How about Monday night?”

“Sounds good to me. Will I still see you tomorrow?” You ask as he settles in with you, tugging your body to him by your waist until you’re flush to his stomach.

“I won’t leave without saying bye.” He kisses your forehead. “‘Sides, you can join me early if you want. Sit on the counter while I prep,” he suggests, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

You wrinkle your nose. “Sounds unsanitary.”

“I’m capable of cleaning, detective,” he snorts with a playful roll of his eyes that you can’t see. He kisses the crown of your head once more, lingering for a moment.

“Give me a half hour before you leave, I’ll come with you.”

“Wanna eat you out in the back room,” he mumbles into your hair through a yawn.

“That sounds unsanitary.”

He sighs dramatically. “Maybe.”

Comfortable silence falls over the both of you as your consciousness begins slipping, warm in Satoru’s arms. It’s the first time you’ve had the time and luxury to enjoy someone’s presence like this in a long time, and you’re thankful to be safely enveloped in his embrace.

“Goodnight, Toru.”

You’re met with his soft snores, held tightly to his chest. He feels like heaven.

–

Although your plans have moved back a day, with no movement spotted on the cameras you set up, you likely didn’t miss anything last night.

Trailing a small distance behind Satoru with a yawn, you aren’t sure you mind either way. As the sun rises and gleams off his snowy locks, you can’t help but admire him. His skin seems to glow, a smile set into his features and he walks with a pep in his step. He’s almost ethereal in the radiance of the warm morning sun.

He swiftly unlocks the door, locking it behind you and throwing his apron over his head. You pause at the counter as he ties it behind his back. Taking note of your hesitation, he smirks as he pulls you around the counter by your hand.

Easily lifting you to sit on the smooth surface, he plants a kiss on your forehead. You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to the massive purple bite mark he’d left on your neck, something he seems all too proud of.

“So what’re you catering?” You ask to create conversation, struggling not to yawn. You may be on a job, but it doesn’t mean you have any reason to be up this early normally.

“Catering?” He asks, realization dawning over his features. “Oh-! Right, sorry. It’s just a business lunch but they requested enough sandwiches that I’ll need to stay late for the buns to bake,” he explains as he begins turning on appliances and getting the shop ready for the day.

You hum, not fully registering his words as you feel dangerously close to dozing off. “Do you have help today?” You query.

“Yeah, one of the part-timers should be here in about an hour.”

“I’m glad you don’t need to run this all alone.”

He slows his work for a moment, blue eyes examining you quietly. “Why’s that?”

You shrug, idly kicking your feet. “It’s a lot of work for one person. You deserve to be able to take a break.”

He straightens his posture as he grins at you. “You worried about me, detective?”

“You’re ruining the moment, Satoru,” you yawn, rolling your eyes as he kisses your nose. Returning to his work, he pulls out risen dough prepped yesterday and sets it to the left of you on the counter.

Whether it’s because you’re tired, horny, or both, who knows for certain, you can’t bring yourself to tear your gaze away from his muscular forearms as he kneads and works the dough into the shapes he desires.

Catching you in the act, Satoru chuckles. “You’re fuckin’ my arms with your eyes, sweetheart.”

“I’m not gonna stop now,” you mumble with a smile.

A faint tint of pink dusts his cheeks and he chooses to distract you by booping your nose with his flour-covered finger. You wrinkle your nose, playfully shoving his hip with your foot whilst you wipe the flour from your skin with the back of your hand.

The morning is quiet as Satoru works with practiced ease while you bask in the light that filters through the large front windows. You begin to fight off your drowsiness when you’re handed a coffee with just a bit too much sugar, something you’ve noticed the white haired man has a habit of doing.

With each sip, the caffeine coursing through your system brings you back into the waking world, just in time for one of the part-timers to knock at the door.

Flipping around to face the door, you hop down from the counter as Gojo asks you to open it for the young man. He’s dressed somewhat similarly to the shop’s owner sans apron, though you suppose that’s likely waiting for him. He has spiky black hair and a rather unamused expression.

His brow lifts when you unlock and open the door for him. “You’re looking different today, Gojo.”

“Ha ha,” Gojo rolls his eyes. “Grab your apron, the buns in the back are just about ready to go in the oven.”

The boy shoots you a more earnest smile after giving Satoru a hard time, which you return. As the young boy heads into the back, you turn your attention back to the white-haired baker.

“He’s got spunk. I like it.”

“All three of ‘em are like that,” he tells you with a smirk, though his eyes shine proudly as though he’s looking at his own kid. “Good kids, though. They work hard.”

You smile, glancing at your watch. “I’ve got some work to do. I’ll drop by tomorrow morning after you open.”

“Sure, love. Be ready for our date tomorrow night.”

With an excited nod, you pull him to you by the apron, capturing his lips in yours. “See you later, Toru.”

“Careful out there, detective!” He calls after you.

–

For the first time in days your motion cameras are set off. Sitting at the edge of the forest with your flashlight held between your teeth, you kneel over your briefcase, loading your second gun with silver bullets to add to your holster. You strap a silver dagger to your thigh, covering yourself in dark leather in an effort to conceal your presence.

Shutting the briefcase, you pocket some extra silver bullets and toss the briefcase aside, making a mental note of where it’s stashed.

The forest is deathly silent in the dead of night. Even birds and bugs don’t seem to dare to interrupt the cool still air of the night. Once you’ve broken the treeline and entered the first layer of trees, you move carefully in an attempt to avoid disturbing the brush at your feet. Your flashlight flicks off as you rely on the moonlight, gun loaded and finger on the trigger.

Keeping your back to the trees, you keep your eyes steady as you move towards the camera that was triggered. You had already pulled the footage before arrival, but it didn’t give you much to work with. You could faintly make out the shape of a paw before the footage cuts out.

Approaching the camera, you now see why. With a frown, you pick up the crushed electronic, flicking on your flashlight to get a better look at it. Punctures through the lens tell you that claws were used to damage it. Looking it over, you aren’t able to make out any saliva or blood that you could test, but you figure you can get a better look at it later, pocketing the small device.

Turning the flashlight around the small clearing, you can’t find any other signs of the wolf you’re hunting and your wire trap is still set. Grimacing, you flick the flashlight off and begin the slow and careful journey to the clearing where you had first investigated the disembodied limbs.

A loud bark-like yelp suddenly sounds where your bear traps are, shattering the forest’s silence as suddenly birds erupt from the trees and the night seems to come to life. Using the noise as an opportunity to move faster, you shine your light through the trees and dash towards the wolf.

Flashlight held tightly in your hand directly above your pistol, you shine the light at each bear trap, but in spite of the cry of pain, your monster is nowhere to be found.

When your light comes to rest on the furthest trap, you notice it’s been triggered and fresh blood drips from its teeth, fur wedged between its metal jaws. You smirk, striding easily towards the trap.

As far as you’re concerned, the wolf is finished. You’ll run DNA on its hair and blood and track it down once you have its identity. The hard part is finished.

Pulling a vial from your belt, you take a sample of the blood, using tweezers to grab a sample of hair and shoving them both into your pocket.

With that taken care of, you take a moment to examine the fur yourself. The fur is white as snow, an unusual trait for werewolves, especially those that don’t retreat to a home at night, which you can’t make the assumption that this one does based on what you’ve observed of the townsfolk.

Shining your light across the rest of the clearing, nothing else catches your eye so you reset the trap, cover it in leaves and debris, and head back to your hotel to run tests.

–

Waking up on your own time in the morning is refreshing after the previous night, although you would take an early morning with Satoru any day over a late morning alone. It’s hard to shake the feeling of missing his arms around you.

In truth, you feel selfish for seeking him out and wanting him by your side. You aren’t terribly far away, but if you were to pursue something with him, you would still be long distance. Not to mention how often you travel for work. You frown at the thought. You’re also only a few hours from completing your job realistically, the blood sample has almost finished processing and although you should be happy to be nearly finished with another job, there’s a pang in your heart at the idea of leaving Satoru behind.

Maybe you should quit pursuing him. Leaning over the desk of your motel, staring at the processing blood sample, you chew on your lip. Maybe today should be the last time you visit him, to lessen the pain of leaving. Either way, you need to speak with him.

Throwing on your holster under your jacket, you make your way towards the cafe a few blocks away. It’s a Monday, which you’ve noticed is slow for Satoru, and although it’s selfish, you’re grateful to see him standing alone behind the counter, staring blankly at the wall.

A small bell rings overhead, pulling his attention to you.

“There she is,” he grins at you, leaning forward against the counter on splayed palms. “Your usual, sweetheart?”

“Please,” you grin, smile faltering as you fiddle with the zipper of your jacket. “Hey, um, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Sensing the seriousness of the discussion from your tone, Satoru’s expression falls flat, worry flashing through his gorgeous irises.

“Listen, I don’t think I’ll be in town much longer.”

He frowns, averting his gaze. “Got a lead?”

“Something like that,” you hum, sighing. “I don’t want to lead you on when I’ll be leaving soon. You’re a great guy Toru, and you deserve-”

“How far?”

“Hm?”

“How far is the drive?” He asks, continuing to lean forward on the counter. Given his tall stature, it looks somewhat uncomfortable, but he doesn’t budge.

“About three hours,” you shrug.

“Then you’re not getting out of our date that easily,” he grins. 

Wide-eyed, you give him a surprised stare. It’s then that you notice that he looks… Unusually tired. There are dramatic dark circles beneath his eyes and beads of sweat form at his forehead, his chest rising and falling quickly.

You may not truly be a private investigator by trade, but given that it’s your business’ facade, you do have the required skills to be one.

And in this moment, you know Satoru is hiding something. He’s sweating bullets, avoiding your gaze, and most noticeably, he won’t move.

“What’s going on, Satoru?”

“Hm?” He hums nonchalantly, tilting his head as he forces a bright smile. You see right through him, taking a step forward as your eyes rake his figure.

“Why are you sweating?”

“It’s hot in here,” he lies, avoiding your gaze as your brows pull together.

“Do you wanna lie to me again?” You accuse, too confident in your ability to see through him to be worried that your accusation is baseless.

His jaw tenses, teeth grit as he clicks his tongue. “I’m not lying, detective. I’ve been in front of the oven all morning.”

You examine his eyes when he finally meets your gaze. They’re steely, determined. Yet another expression he wouldn’t need if he was telling the truth. You straighten your posture, eyes trailing along the walls of the bakery. For him to be so nervous, you had to be missing something.

Taking a couple of steps, you pace in a small circle as you look over your surroundings, making a mental note of exits and weapons as you mentally prepare yourself to pull your gun should you need it.

Has he been playing you this whole time?

Surely not, after all, you hadn’t noticed anything particularly animalistic about him, it was usually easy to tell for someone like you. He would have no other reason to hide anything, unless he was hiding the wolf. Could one of the part-timers be it? You hadn’t met any besides Megumi and hadn’t bothered to interview anyone beyond the adults given that the tooth and claw markings you had noticed were on the larger side, but it is possible, you suppose.

You let your shoulders fall as you exhale. You may not have known him long, but you do know that Satoru isn’t the type of man who would kill someone. Certainly not twelve someones. There’s no reason to distrust him, surely.

“Just a coffee I guess,” you order, eyeing him over once before you turn to head to a seat at the coffee bar. “Sorry, Toru. You just… don’t seem yourself. My work got the best of me,” you excuse yourself with a sigh, rubbing at your temple. God, it’s barely morning and you can already feel a headache coming on.

Satoru leans over the bar to set your coffee down, an easy smile returning to his face. “S’alright, sweetheart. Just had a long night of prep.”

“Oh yeah, how did the catering order go?” You ask, taking a sip of your coffee.

Satoru keeps his palms splayed over the counter as he leans forward while he chats with you. “Pretty good. I’m having Megumi drop it off for lunch, but the order’s all good to go.”

You nod, distracted once more by his veiny forearms, planted firmly in front of you.

“So the uh- the disappearances. You found a lead?” He asks, busying himself with cleaning the surface in front of you.

You eye him, brow furrowing. Now he sounds nervous too. “Yeeeah. I should have it figured out by noon.”

“That’s great. You must be excited,” he comments, shooting you a brief smile before he returns to cleaning the counter in front of you. You hum as he tosses the rag aside, stumbling awkwardly as he brushes his hands off on the apron against his thighs.

The air between you hangs in an uncomfortable balance. You can tell something is off, but you can’t place what it is.

Giving him the benefit of the doubt, you let the feeling go once again as Satoru grins up at another customer. Pulling out your phone, you pull up the number of your client to send an update, occupying yourself with that as Satoru takes the order of an older gentleman.

You glance up as the baker returns from the back of the shop with something fresh for the man, just in time to see something that makes your heart drop to the pit of your stomach.

You move slowly, standing up from your seat and moving your hand under your jacket, letting your palm rest on the loaded gun in your holster. You grip it tightly, eyes wide as they come to rest on Satoru when the older man walks out of the bakery.

“Satoru.” Your voice trembles, something you mentally berate yourself over. You’ve never hesitated in this line of work. You’ve never needed to. Not when you’ve seen the remains of those who did hesitate. You don’t normally have that luxury. “What did you do to your foot?”

He pales, swallowing heavily as his eyes flicker to your hand hovering over what he knows to be your gun. “I fell,” he lies through his teeth.

“You fell,” you repeat his words as he nods blankly.

Your free hand drops to your belt, gripping your flashlight. Satoru’s eyes follow your every action intently, his chest rising and falling quickly as though struggling not to pant.

A click punctures the air as the flashlight comes to life and you shine it in his eyes. They gleam and reflect the light in an undeniably inhuman way. You shut your eyes for a moment, processing just how much of a fool you’ve been.

He’d been playing you since the beginning. You wonder if he knows your gun is loaded with silver bullets. You wonder how long he knew you weren’t a private investigator.

“You fell,” you repeat again, lashes fluttering as you meet his gaze again, flashlight lowered. “What are the odds you fell in the forest?”

He doesn’t respond, his pupils mere pinpricks.

“Your cast,” you question further, taking a step closer to glance at the massive boot around his leg. “Is there much left of your leg under there?”

His adam's apple bobs as he swallows.

Your gun clicks and Satoru stumbles a step backwards as you draw it.

Even with a gun to his head, he looks beautiful. He looks like heaven, images of his body wrapped around you glued to you like the sweetest honey. You suppose in your line of work, you shouldn’t expect to find someone so seemingly perfect for you. Someone willing to drive three hours just to make things work.

At the end of the day, you live a life where monsters are real and love is a fairy tale. What kind of cruel irony is that?

“There’s enough,” he replies, strained.

“They’re intended for bears, y’know. Not wolves.”

Vocalizing it makes it seem so real, and clearly he knows the charade is up as he finally averts his gaze, pulling his lower lip between his teeth as he exhales heavily. “I’m not who you’re looking for.”

You scoff. “You’ve been playing me since I got here and you expect me to believe that?” Your hand shakes as you continue to hold the gun up to him. You’re not sure if you can go through with firing it if it comes to that.

You suppose you may not have a choice if it’s you or him.

“I was never playing you.”

“Then what do you call this?” You ask, motioning between the two of you with your chin.

Slowly, he brings a hand up to card it through his hair. He inhales sharply. “I didn’t realize what you were ‘til I saw your gun. By then though-” he pauses, examining your eyes before he stares at the trembling gun you hold out to him. “I’d already caught feelings.”

Your jaw trembles and you grit your teeth. A muscle in your arm twitches and you disarm your gun with a click, shutting your eyes again as you groan. The silence in the air is palpable, the dullest of knives could cut the tension between the both of you.

Your hand falls down to your side. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now, Satoru? I- I can’t-” you rub your non-dominant hand over your face, trying to make sense of the situation you’ve gotten yourself into.

Even if you were just a private investigator, Satoru still played a dangerous game getting so close to you. He still played you like some sort of toy, which undeniably hurts, but worse still is the fact that your heart aches for his touch still. It aches for his kindness, even if it comes with a side of cockiness. It’s all so undeniably him and draws you to him.

Your heart aches for a monster. A creature responsible for the deaths of many of his own townsfolk, his own customers. What a fucking mess. What a fucking joke.

“It wasn’t me,” he repeats again, his tone now tinged with concern, bordering on desperation.

You shoot him an incredulous look. “You can’t possibly expect me to believe that. I’ve interviewed everyone here, I’ve done my due diligence. If it wasn’t you then what were you doing out there last night anyway?”

“I know and I don’t know who it is but-”

“So you have no alibi and no proof that it’s someone else? What a fucking joke.” You scoff in disbelief, heading to the counter to pick up your bag and phone. Shoving your phone in your pocket and hauling your bag over your shoulder, you turn towards the door, leaving Satoru standing in complete and utter guilt, at a loss.

“Listen, please, I was looking for proof that it was someone else-”

“Satoru!” You interrupt him, raising your voice as you turn back to stare at him in disbelief. “For fuck’s sake stop lying, I need to go fucking-” you make a hand motion in the air, searching for words.

What do you need to do? You can stop the DNA sample, for one. But then what? You can’t cover up the evidence, some monster hunter you would be if you covered up after Satoru and returned to your client empty-handed.

Yet… you don’t want to kill him. You’re not even sure you can. Not after seeing such a gentle side of him. He claims it’s not him you’re after, but how are you meant to trust his word? He’s a killer, and he played you. So why does it hurt to think of killing him?

“I- I can help, it wasn’t me, I promise!” He raises his voice to match yours, stumbling another step forward on his cast with a visible wince as he pushes himself.

Shaking your head, you turn away again. “I need to go figure out what to do.” Your mind is rattling with frustration that you fear will turn to red-hot anger if you’re here any longer.

You can hear him shuffling behind you as you reach for the door. “No, no, no- detective please, I-” His hand comes to rest on your arm in an attempt to keep you from leaving.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Gojo!” You hiss, eyes full of malice as you turn towards him. Hurt flashes through his eyes, but he drops his hand shakily, finally letting you leave as your anger bursts through the seams of your composure.

When you’re long out of sight, Satoru hobbles slowly back to the counter, splaying palms over the surface as he stares down at his hands. With teeth grit and eyes shut, he groans. The image of your gun pointed square at his forehead is burned into his brain as he wondered if he could have done something differently to prevent this from happening.

No, at the end of the day, he’s just a werewolf who was naive enough to fall for the exact person out to kill people like him. With eyes shut tight, he rakes his fingers over the counter until his hands are balled into fists beneath him.

He lets out a sigh, long white lashes fluttering open finally. He frowns as he takes in the sight before him. Eight long trails are carved through the wood of his counter, freshly dragged through the grain by the claws of a predator.

Stumbling back, he stares at his hands, having not realized his claws were out.

Is he truly no better than you make him out to be?

–

As the afternoon sun washes over you, you return your pistol to its holster and sigh, running both hands over your face. Beginning a slow trek back to your motel, you decide the best course of action is to clean up after yourself and leave. You’re compromised and at the end of the day, it’s better to hand this off to someone else. You’ll have to deny payment, but you can make suggestions. Someone who won’t hesitate.

Your hand falters even as you reach your door. You don’t want to be an accomplice in Satoru’s murder. It doesn’t matter how much he lied and led you off-track. To some degree, you care about him.

Maybe even more than you’d like to admit.

Unlocking your door, you toss your jacket and holster aside.

“Fuck!” You toss your bag carelessly, letting it slam against the wall with your laptop. You can only imagine the scolding you would be getting from your father if he knew what was going through your mind.

Your eyes flicker to the tests you were running, now complete. It doesn’t matter anymore. You found your wolf. Unfortunately he’s caring, charming, and you’re hopelessly into him.

Laying back on the motel bed, you shut your eyes and curl into yourself, letting sleep take you.

–

The snap of a bear trap fills your ears as you set off the first trap you need to clean up from a safe distance. Your brain is foggy with doubts and frustrations and despite the setting sun keeping you warm, a shiver runs up your spine.

You sigh, tossing a rock at the next bear trap and dragging it along the ground with you. Even in broad daylight, the forest seems to hold its breath. There’s no rustling of leaves surrounding you, the birds are silent, and there’s no idle buzz of insects. It’s almost as though it’s taunting you for your naivety in believing the wolf hidden right in front of your eyes.

You toss the rock, letting the third trap snap shut. The sound pierces the air and the forest shudders. Picking up the trap’s chain, you drag it along with the other two.

The walk back to your wire trap is a slow one, burdened by the traps in your arm and the pit in your stomach. You almost feel sick to your stomach at the idea of turning down a job. Exhaling heavily, you wonder if Higuruma will recommend you to a client again after this nightmare.

Probably not.

You’ll have to pay back what was already paid to you. Likely pay for the motel as well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you lean down to disarm the wire trap. As the wire loosens and you begin to coil it up, rustling nearby catches your attention.

You lift your head, scanning your surroundings, but nothing in particular seems out of the ordinary. Likely a fox or a deer. Probably no big deal.

You finish coiling up the wire and tug the traps along, heading to the next site where you had traps set.

When you reach the bloodied trap, you stop, staring at it. Within the forest it seems the only lively area is right over the trap as flies buzz and lower themselves over the bloodied steel trap. You take a step back and toss a rock, letting it snap again.

It’s eerie, the sound of the snapping metal in an otherwise silent forest. Staring down at it, a shiver runs down your spine. You hadn’t seen it in daylight yet, but with the amount of crimson coating the jaws of steel, it must have done a hefty amount of damage. Enough to make you feel guilty.

Fuck, even after everything he pulled, you still feel guilty.

Yanking the chain of the trap, you toss it over your arm with the rest.

Stupid. So stupid.

Turning to the next trap, something catches your eye. It’s a split-second, but you see a flash. Blinking, you back yourself carefully up to the tree behind you, hand hovering over your pistol.

You had to be imagining things. Or maybe it’s just some harmless animal. A coyote or fox.

Still, you don’t let your guard down, slowly surveying the area.

“Satoru?” You question, keeping your voice low. You’re met with the sound of rustling, and another flash of eyes.

Your heart begins to pound in your chest as thoughts race through your mind. Were you so foolish that not only did Satoru slip past you unnoticed as the exact creature you’re hunting but you also didn’t believe him when he was telling the truth? 

Well, you’re fucked now.

You pull your pistol from the holster, snapping it in the direction of your new assailant as he slips between trees before you with an eerie grin. He’s human, for now, but his eyes tell you all you need to know.

“So you’re the lil’ monster hunter they sent after me, huh?”

The man’s stature is tall, similar to Satoru’s, though he carries himself with menacing pride. Raven hair falls over his eyes, emerald green and filled with confidence. A tight black shirt is pulled taut with every step he takes, very little of his broad shoulders and muscular torso left to the imagination. His lips quirk upwards into a smirk, a scar at the edge of his lips the only sign he’s ever taken damage in a scuffle.

“Y’know, you reek of wolf. Woulda thought they’d send someone a bit better at their job.”

You swallow in an effort to hide your wince as he hits you right where it hurts. Steeling yourself, you remain silent, focusing your narrowed eyes on him as you evaluate your target while he taunts you.

He’s confident you won’t hit him if you shoot now, that much is clear. He wouldn’t stand at such a close range if he thought you could hit him. It means he’s fast, and he’s clearly muscular too. That doesn’t leave much for weaknesses, but he’s cocky enough that at some point he’ll surely slip up and you’ll find an opening. It’s always like that with the overconfident ones.

“Not so talkative now, are we?” The tall man chuckles, taking a step towards you. Dropping the chains of the traps dangling from your arm, you discreetly shuffle to allow yourself room for an exit, all of your instincts kicking in at once.

You were so caught up in your anger with Satoru that you didn’t prepare for this. Your dagger is on the side table in the motel room. Your extra bullets are in the pocket of your other pants. Your extra gun is on the bathroom counter.

Your gun has ten bullets remaining.

It’s enough for a young or inexperienced wolf, but he’s smarter than that. He’s been watching you, he’s waited until your traps are all disarmed. He’s waited until you’re alone and vulnerable without your weapons. He’s cunning.

“Countin’ your bullets?” He sneers, taking another step towards you. He holds his hand out in front of you, sharpened claws decorating the tip of each finger as he counts aloud. “Two, four,” green eyes flicker up to your face as he smirks, “six, eight, ten.”

You slip around the tree, giving yourself an exit route, but the wolf moves too quickly and he’s blocking the area you had mapped for yourself. He’s been hunting you the whole time, right under your nose.

“Poor thing. No way out n’ only ten bullets,” he chuckles darkly, rolling his broad shoulders back. His eyes narrow. “Let’s see what ya got f’r me, hunter.”

He dashes forward, so quickly that your heart nearly leaps from its cage as you barely manage to duck and roll beneath his claws. They collide with the tree behind you and he snarls, pushing off of the bark as he bares long fangs at you.

Shit, he’s not even transforming. He doesn’t even consider you a worthy opponent. It’s almost humiliating, not to mention the genuine fear coursing through your veins for the first time in a long time. Doubly humiliating.

Keeping a careful count on your bullets, you know you need to devise a strategy. As the man lunges forward, you grab one of the disarmed bear traps, launching it at him as you grapple around a tree trunk to avoid his jaws.

The wolf recovers quickly and turns on a dime to follow you. Firing off a shot, you force him to veer away.

“One,” he growls in a low chuckle.

He’s playing with his food. You’re better than this and you know it.

Inhaling, you take a breath to level your head. The wolf peers down at you like prey from a tree above and you know you have to catch him off-guard if you want any chance at living through this. That, or you needed to find a way out.

Your chest rises and falls heavily with each breath as you keep your eyes locked on your target.

With your gun held steadily in front of you, you feign making a dash for your mapped escape, grateful when your assailant takes the bait and you’re able to double back in time to grab the three disarmed traps piled on the ground.

His head tilts curiously, focused on your movements.

With the ends of each trap’s chain held tightly in your hand, you divert his attention with a carefully aimed shot that chips away at the branch just above his head as he ducks out of the way. The fact you weren’t aiming at him goes unnoticed, you think.

“Two,” he growls.

Not taking your eyes off of him, you deftly hook the chains together.

As he darts forward, you slide beneath him, firing off two shots in an attempt to make yourself look desperate. In reality, you are, but you need him to know that.

Either way he’s too fast and the bullets go flying past him.

“Four,” he hums, turning on his heel to launch himself at you from off a tree with claws outstretched.

Another bullet flies through the air, careening past him, but he twists and manages to slice his claws through your arm.

Hissing through your teeth, you tighten your grip on your gun, letting your adrenaline carry you forward.

Exhaling through your nose, you lift your gun again, the branch that you’d previously shot now directly behind your enemy again. Three more bullets fly out, two hitting the branch squarely while the other zips by the raven-haired man.

“Eight,” he grins, eyes narrowing as he herds you back against a tree trunk.

Two bullets left to make your escape. Your only chance.

With your back to the wall, you wait for the wolf to dive forward, shooting your ninth bullet straight for his head. He dodges to the side at the last second and your last chance opens up. You take your chance, putting your gun back in its holster as you fling the chained traps up at the branch you’d been shooting. The weight of the traps manages to pull the branch down behind you, just as you’d hoped it would.

The crackling of the branch snapping sounds off louder than any gunshot as it crashes down behind you. You hear a surprised huff, followed by a growl as you run for the treeline.

Your chest heaves, adrenaline coursing through your veins as it keeps your focus from the crimson that stains the sleeve of your torn jacket. The sting of his claws is nothing in comparison to the humiliation of this hunt, but worse still is the dread that tears at your chest when you hear the rustling of steps behind you.

They’re too fast. He’s too fast. You pull your gun back out, but it’s no use. You have one bullet left. You’re dead and the wolf knows it.

He tackles you to the ground, a pained grunt parting your lips as his full weight pins you to the ground.

He grins, one set of claws digging into your shoulder as he pins you down, forcing you to drop your gun, while his other clawed hand is held steadily at your neck. “So y’r the best they got, huh?” He chuckles darkly.

You let out a pained gasp as his claw pierces the skin of your neck. Your eyes shut tight as you wait for death to come, when suddenly his weight is lifted from you.

Your eyes shoot open at the sound of a pained yelp and all you can see is a flurry of white fur as your assailant is sent flying straight through a tree. If the sound of the branch snapping was louder than a gun, the sound of the tree snapping in on itself is like thunder. You recoil from the noise, pushing yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at what’s happened.

Fur as white as snow decorates the figure standing in front of you from head to toe, a long tail swaying back and forth as its ears point straight towards the other wolf. Though his features are primarily that of a wolf, when he turns his head towards you, the shimmering blue eyes that find you are undeniably those of a worried Satoru.

You can only stare, hand still gripping your gun as Satoru stands over you protectively, balling his clawed hands into fists.

As the other wolf gets to his feet, he chuckles in amusement, spitting blood in the dirt. “Knew I smelled another wolf on ya. Didn’t know it was the Gojo kid.”

Satoru’s ear flicks as he growls. “What do I call you, then?”

“Fushiguro Toji,” the mutt answers as he pushes himself to his feet.

Satoru straightens slightly at the name, but he shakes his head, steadying himself to take on the wolf. He barely looks steady at all, and that’s when you realize just what’s hampering him.

Of course, his leg. The cast has held steady, somehow managing to stay on even in this form, although he’s trying to stay off of it, balancing precariously. He’s down a limb and you’re down to your last bullet, all the while Toji has a few splinters and that’s about it.

Well, shit.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you take cover in an effort to evaluate the situation as Satoru snarls at Toji, now taking the form of a lupine. He stands just as tall as Satoru, his pelt as dark as his raven hair.

“What’s some rich heir doin’ out here anyway?” 

“What’s the father of the year doing out here?” Gojo rebuttals, a prideful smirk crossing his canine features.

With a furious bark, Toji leaps at Gojo in time for you to duck behind a tree. The way Toji fights tooth and claw against your savior isn’t like how he fought against you. He dashes around, bounding off of trees as he attempts to confuse and out-speed Satoru, who only lashes out his claws when necessary in an effort to defend himself.

Still, you can’t help but feel as though to some degree, Satoru is enjoying this just as much as Toji clearly is. A twisted smirk dons his fanged mouth, curling upwards as he slams a forepaw into Toji, sending him flying through the trees.

With Toji temporarily down, you make a dash for the branch that you had pulled down earlier, gritting your teeth as you keep an eye on your peripherals while you attempt to untangle the traps.

As you fiddle with their chains, Satoru barks out a warning as Toji leaps forward again, landing them both in a tussle. Tooth and nail collide as barks, growls, and whimpers pierce the air to your left while you desperately fumble with the traps, though you fear it may be of no use.

Swallowing hard, you roll out of the way when Toji’s claws extend towards you, but Satoru drags him back. Your heart pounds hard in your chest as your ragged breaths come quicker at just how narrowly you’re managing to escape the feral wolf.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, waiting for the wolves to separate for a moment as Toji resets himself for an attack that Satoru fends off easily. Now with an opening, you slink back over to the bear traps, when a shrill yelp suddenly pierces the air, pulling your attention to the wolves.

Satoru’s shoulder is caught in Toji’s jaws, blood trickling out from under his fangs as neither wolf moves. Satoru’s blue eyes are wide as Toji’s claws lift, a snide grin curling at his lips even as he holds Satoru down with his teeth.

BANG.

The forest grows silent again. The birds and insects have long fled, the deer and foxes peer from between the brush in an effort to catch a glance at what’s happened. The wind no longer whistles and the trees hold their breath.

Your chest heaves as you lower your gun.

“Ten,” you mutter just loud enough for Toji to hear as his emerald green eyes find you for the final time. Blood trickles down between his eyes and around his snout, dripping down his jaw into Satoru’s fur beneath him.

“Gojo,” Toji grunts, barely holding himself up, “don’t let those assholes take the kid,” and with that, his eyes lose their luster as he slumps forward. Satoru pushes his body to the ground, laying flat on his back for a moment as he catches his breath.

Your gun clatters suddenly to the ground as you scramble over to Satoru, kneeling hesitantly beside him.

“Believe me now, detective?”

You swallow hard, running a hand over the shoulder where Toji’s teeth sank in. He hisses, pushing himself up. Even sitting up, he towers over you in this form. Your every instinct tells you to run, all except for one, as your heart tells you that this man would never dare hurt you or anyone else.

Your lips part to reply but all you can manage is a shaky “are you okay?”

“I’ve been better,” he grumbles, “but I’ll be fine. I’ll lick my wounds or whatever dog analogy you wanna use.” His ear flicks in amusement at his own lighthearted quip and you can’t help the relieved smile that spreads across your lips. “Are you okay?”

You quirk your head to the side in an effort to figure out what he could mean only to realize blood is still dripping down your arm from where Toji sliced you, not to mention the sting of his claws in your shoulder and neck. Adrenaline still courses through your veins, keeping the pain at bay for now.

“Oh, yeah. I can’t feel it right now.”

Satoru hums as he pushes himself up, pupils mere slits as he reaches for you. He may be a hulking and monstrous werewolf, but somehow he’s still so Satoru. His blue eyes are tired, but they glimmer with that familiar swirl of mirth that always seems to come out around you. He still carries himself confidently with an air of goofiness that lightens the silence between the both of you, although much remains unsaid.

Clawed hands delicately reach for the hem of your shirt, easily tearing a portion of the fabric off. He takes your arm carefully from your jacket, pulling it from the confines of the sleeve and wraps it around your wounds tightly. Thankfully, you still can hardly feel the pain.

“You should go to the hospital,” he grunts, sitting back on his haunches.

“I’ll be fine,” you brush him off, “you look worse than I do,” you comment, looking over several claw marks and the chunk torn from his shoulder, not to mention the blood coating his fur.

“Can’t exactly go to the hospital for things like this,” Satoru shakes his head. “I’ll stitch myself up later.”

“Let me do it,” you blurt out.

His head tilts. It’s such a dog-like movement it’s almost adorable. His ear flops slightly, tail twitching. “I thought you wouldn’t wanna be around me.”

“I was wrong,” you blurt out without a second thought. “You never lied to me, you never played me. I just didn’t listen.” His ears perk up, his tail twitching as though he’s struggling not to wag it. It’s hard to deny just how adorable he is like this.

In the same way that Toji grew more menacing covered in fur, Satoru somehow felt more like putty in your hands, unable to hide his emotions now that so much of his body language gave him away.

“I wanted to be honest with you,” he admits, “but I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

“I wouldn’t have,” you agree, reaching forward to cup his cheek. It’s a foreign feeling, so covered in fur, but somehow familiar as he leans into your touch. “But I think I might be bad at my job,” you chuckle, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of your head. Pain jolts suddenly through your arm and you hiss, staring down at your blood-soaked upper arm. The blood was beginning to soak through the material of your shirt that was wrapped around it.

Pushing himself up on his feet, Gojo tests his weight on his broken ankle before making a move to pick you up. Werewolves heal unreasonably fast in comparison to humans, but you still don’t love the idea of him carrying you while in a cast.

“I can walk,” you insist. “Stay off your foot, Toru,” you push yourself up, glancing at his broken foot.

This time, he can’t help it. His tail wags. Like an excited puppy, it damn near knocks you over with the way it sways. You can’t help the giggle that bubbles in your throat as you have to side step to avoid his powerful tail.

“You really do like it when I call you that, huh?” You tease with a grin.

You’re certain he would be blushing if he could. “It sounds pretty comin’ from you.”

Though there are still things left unsaid, the silence that settles between you as you make your way back to the treeline is an easy one. You’ll need to come back for Toji’s body and the traps left behind, so you leave your briefcase behind as well. You can’t imagine many of the locals make a point of going to the forest anyway these days.

As you reach the edge of the forest and the town comes into view, something occurs to you.

“Why haven’t you changed back?”

Slits of pupils surrounded by oceans of blue flicker towards you. “My clothes are shredded.” He’s grinning at you, something of a suggestive grin on his wolfish face.

You can only groan at that. “How the hell do we get you to my motel then?” In truth, you aren’t sure you can afford to wait for night to sneak him through the town as your adrenaline is quickly wearing off. Between the blood loss and the pain, you’re growing more light headed by the moment.

“I could pretend to be a dog,” he suggests, but one look from you tells him otherwise. Even on all fours, he’s absolutely massive and he’s far too humanoid to ever look even remotely like a full canine.

Not to mention, you had been hired by someone in the town to hunt his kind. He couldn’t get caught.

You cast a glance at the setting sun, frowning.

“Go on ahead. I’ll catch up when it’s dark.” Clearly, he’s on the same page.

You shoot him a hesitant glance. “I don’t want to leave you behind,” you admit, voice nearly a whisper. The moment has a certain sense of déja vu as you think back to Satoru being unwilling to fuck you and disappear. You can’t help but feel as though you’re somehow betraying him by parting ways, even if it’s only for an hour.

His ear flicks as he examines your features, an understanding expression passing over his lupine features. “I’m not hurt too bad. Honestly your trap did more damage than Toji.”

Guilt floods your body at the reminder that his ankle was likely nearly torn from his body by a trap set by you.

“Stop worrying about it. We can talk later, get to the motel.”

You nod, making your way back.

–

Using your teeth to pull the final stitch of the second claw slice tight, you lean back in the chair at the window, draping your arm tiredly over your eyes. It’s not like you haven’t stitched yourself up before but it doesn’t make the pain any less daunting.

You jolt as someone knocks at the door, moving the curtain aside in time to see pupils flash.

Dashing to the door, you grab a towel and use it to twist the knob in an effort not to spread your blood everywhere given the current state of your hands.

Satoru ducks into the room, shutting the door behind you and glancing around until troubled eyes find you, slumping back in the chair. You look queasy, blood pouring down your arm and coating your fingers in crimson.

Glancing around the room, massive paws reach for a towel and you watch in awe as his bones jolt and twitch, shifting to a human size. His fur recedes into his skin, leaving behind only a bloodied mop of white hair on his head. He wraps the towel around his waist before turning to face you.

The bite mark on his shoulder doesn’t look anywhere near as bad now in this form, the injuries having shrunk along with his body. You suppose he was right to say his wounds weren’t as bad as they looked.

Your eyes shamelessly rake across his body after evaluating his wounds. For a werewolf, you’re almost surprised he doesn’t have more scars than the ones that will surely be left behind from Toji. His skin is nearly flawless, marred only by crimson stains that cover him from head to toe, drying strands of his usually snow-white hair together.

For how much damage you thought Toji did, he seems mostly unaffected.

You, on the other hand, look worse for wear.

With the towel wrapped soundly around his waist, he approaches you slowly, grabbing the chair across from you and moving it until he’s sitting before you.

“Let me help,” he insists. You don’t have the energy to fight him and give in immediately, handing him the needle and thread and a bottle of alcohol. With warm hands, he douses the wound in antiseptic, frowning when you flinch. He mutters a ‘sorry’ as you lean back and throw your other arm over your eyes. “You better not pass out on me, detective.”

“I won’t,” you grumble, taking a breath as the needle pierces your skin.

Satoru is surprisingly deft in his motions as he stitches you up, the first of the remaining two deep slices complete fairly quickly and with little blood loss in comparison to the ones you had managed to do on yourself. Not to say they were done poorly by any means, you had the skills necessary to patch yourself up, but doing so with one arm had proven to be a challenge.

“Why did Toji mention his kid? Was he talking about your employee or something?”

Satoru lets the questions hang in the air for a moment before replying. “He was,” Satoru confirms, replying with his own question that doesn’t seem to have a connection as far as you can tell. “What do you plan on doing after this?”

You hum thoughtfully, too tired to question his thought process. “Dunno. I don’t think I can call myself much of a monster hunter at this point.”

“Why not? You killed Toji,” Satoru points out.

“I guess,” you mumble, lifting your arm to stare at the ceiling. Even if you dealt the killing blow, it still felt like Satoru’s kill. You let the silence hang for a moment as Satoru works on your wound. “You know, even if it had been you, I couldn’t kill you.”

Your voice is meek as you admit this to him. He knows already, but the statement still hangs in the air, the tension interrupted only by a hiss as he continues his ministrations, giving his latest stitch a tug to pull it taut.

“Maybe that makes you a better monster hunter.”

You lift your head, carefully observing his expression. “How?”

“Not every monster is heartless,” he shrugs, brow furrowed as he keeps his gaze focused on his movements. “The world could use more people like you to look out for those of us that aren’t so bad.”

You blink at him, somewhat unused to the very serious but also very genuine advice he’s giving you. His usual goofy demeanor seems to be on pause as he finishes up the last stitch before taking an alcohol wipe to clean the wound once more, carefully running the wipe along the holes left by Toji’s claws in your shoulder and throat as well.

You can’t help but gasp as the alcohol burns on your arm. You inhale sharply, pushing through the pain. “Wouldn’t I be more of a monster lawyer then?” You chuckle, voice strained.

Satoru’s lips quirk up into a smile. “Maybe. I could get used to calling you ‘lawyer’ instead of detective.”

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles from your throat, keeping your arm held out for him as he wraps it in thick bandages. Once he’s satisfied with his work, you half expect him to turn tail and leave. You don’t deserve his kindness after lashing out at him, but in truth you know there’s more to what pulls you and Satoru together.

Despite the obvious differences between the both of you, there’s a strong connection that ties you both together already. One that you want to explore, one that feels forbidden. A monster hunter and a werewolf? It can never work. To make matters worse, even before the revelation of his secret, you already were on your way to end things just based on distance.

It just won’t work.

But still, you owe it to him to at least make things right before you leave.

“I’m so sorry, Satoru.”

“It’s alright,” he brushes you off with a grin. There’s no hesitation as he accepts your apology without a doubt in his mind. Bile rises in your throat as it becomes glaringly obvious just how much you don’t deserve this kindness. He only further proves the point as he takes a face cloth in one hand, pouring alcohol over it and wiping it over your blood-encrusted fingers to clean them. He’s so gentle with each movement that it makes your head spin.

Maybe that’s just the blood loss. You can blame it on that for now.

Shaking your head, your brow furrows. “No, no it’s not. I judged a book by its cover and that’s not fair at all to you. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and even when you found out I was here to hunt you- or, well, not you but I thought I was hunting you- that didn’t change how you saw me and I should have extended that same courtesy to-”

Satoru’s thumb brushes your lower lip, effectively shutting you up as your heart palpitates. “I forgive you. We both kept secrets.”

Still, you can’t help the guilt that boils in your stomach as he’s so quick to forgive you.

“Oh! And while we’re airing secrets I should probably let you know my employees are all werewolves,” he grins as his expression turns to a cheerful one.

“What?” You gape in disbelief.

“Yeah. Megumi is Toji’s son. I took him and his sister in a while ago, something about Toji’s family rejecting them when his sister wasn’t a wolf. Dunno, Megs doesn’t talk about it much. Oh, and then the other two as well-”

He talks so casually you nearly have to pick your jaw up off the floor.

“I’m so bad at my job,” you groan, earning a laugh from Gojo. He has a funny way of easily flipping a serious conversation to a lighthearted one.

“Nah. You were right the whole time. You weren’t hunting me or the kids anyway,” he shrugs easily, taking in the scene around him as he finally realizes just how bloodied both of you are. “We should shower.”

You hum, leaning back in the chair again. He’s right, but your head is still spinning and your arm is throbbing.

“Tell ya what. I’ll shower, then I’ll grab you some food. It should help with the blood loss. You shower while I’m gone.”

You nod slowly, watching the bare-chested man get to his feet. “I have some sweatpants and a big shirt for pajamas in my suitcase. You can use those.”

He grins thankfully before disappearing into the washroom.

–

You’re surprised to find that Gojo has already returned when you leave the washroom, feeling refreshed albeit sore. Laid out on the table by the chairs you’d been in earlier is an assortment of pastries and sandwiches. It figures that nowhere would be open at this time besides corner stores, so he’d likely just pulled something together from the bakery. How he’s managed to hobble around so competently on a broken ankle is beyond you, even if werewolves heal faster than humans.

Satoru is in the clothing you’d offered him, a pair of sweats that ride up past his ankles and seem fairly tight at the waist, and a pink t-shirt pulled taut with each movement of his bulky upper chest. It’s a sight to behold and you can’t help but to smile.

Catching sight of you in his peripherals, his blue eyes brighten. “I wasn’t sure what you would want, so I-”

“You brought the whole bakery?” You chide, sliding down in the chair beside him.

“Well I left the custard donut behind, actually. So not the whole bakery,” he chuckles. “I’ve been told that one wasn’t my best.” His fingers card through his white locks, pushing stray strands of hair from his eyes.

“I dunno, I might have wanted to give that one a try,” you hum as you grin up at him through long lashes.

He scoffs, playfully nudging your uninjured shoulder. “Okay now I know the blood loss is a problem.”

You giggle, picking up a croissant and taking a bite with a pleased smile. “Thanks for doing this, Toru. I thought you would just pick up a snack from the corner store or something.”

“Have you checked out the corner store? Guaranteed you’d get food poisoning.”

You barely make it a quarter of the way through the spread of food he’s brought before leaning back in the chair with a wince. In an instant, Satoru’s at your side, finger running delicately over the bandages he’s wrapped as he searches for a sign that his stitches may have come undone.

“Satoru, I’m fine,” you mumble, weakly shoving at his chest. The man doesn’t budge as his hand trails down your arm, sending goosebumps up your skin from his feather-light touch. It sends a shiver straight up your spine, one that you’re certain doesn’t go unnoticed when you find yourself staring straight at pupils so dilated that the blues of his eyes are hardly visible.

Like pools of lust, they beg for your attention and you don’t stand a chance of resisting. That’s just the kind of effect he has on you.

Balling the fabric of the shirt he’s wearing into your fingers, you pull him down. He melts against your lips, electricity shooting between the both of you like lightning, followed by the thunderous growl that Satoru doesn’t bother trying to mask like the last time you had had sex.

Suddenly the biting, the marking, the guttural groans and near-growls and him effortlessly ripping your panties the other night all makes sense. Satoru didn’t lose control at the first smell of blood or on the full moon, he lost control to your intoxicating touch.

His fingers move from your arm to your waist and down your hips, before lifting you into his arms, large hands supporting your ass. He stumbles slightly on his broken ankle, dropping you unevenly on the bed with a charming laugh as he does his best to hold himself and you up on his ankle, failing somewhat. You can’t help but to laugh along with him as he crawls on top of you.

His lips are back on yours in an instant, and it’s in that moment that his self-control begins to slip away. He deepens the kiss, smirking when a whimper leaves your parted lips, swallowed in the landscape of his tongue.

Acting on instinct, he ruts his already rock-hard length against you, pulling a whine from your pretty lips at the delicious friction of his cock against your bundle of nerves. His eyes are a wildfire of lust when he pulls back, eagerly leaving kisses and nibbling on the uninjured sode of your neck. As any sense of control slips, each kiss grows sloppier and each bite grows harder, until you feel fangs graze your skin.

You gasp at the foreign feeling, securing your arms around his neck as he bites down on your shoulder. He wouldn’t dare break skin, even fucked out of his mind he would never intentionally bring you harm. As pain and pleasure mingle together, you drag your nails down his back.

A guttural groan leaves his throat as he continues to grind hard against your core, your slick soaking through your panties and driving his enhanced senses crazy. In a haze, he moves to grip your shoulder in an attempt to move you up the bed, but his grip on your arm causes you to yelp in pain.

Satoru goes rigid, completely frozen as his pupils narrow to pinpricks, taking in your expression before he realizes what’s happened.

“Shit, sorry baby,” he pants, eyes wide with fear. “I forgot, I promise I didn’t-”

“It’s okay, Toru. I know you didn’t mean it,” you reassure him with a smile as he creates a suitable distance between his hand and your arm, pressing a languid kiss to your forehead.

“I won’t hurt you. I won’t hurt anyone,” he whispers, sitting back on his knees. The look he’s giving you tells you everything you need to know. He’s more than just desperate for you to believe him, he needs you to trust him.

People like Satoru don’t get chances at love. Werewolves are old wives’ tales, fake to the general public and the admission of monsters to most was enough to scare even the most open-minded people off. He counts himself lucky that you didn’t put a bullet between his eyes, but even in the moment he knew it wasn’t luck. Just like it wasn’t luck that he heard gunshots go off and rushed to the forest.

It wasn’t luck that Satoru was there for you.

Satoru wants to be there for you in more than just life or death situations. In fact, he’d prefer to be there for you mostly outside of those situations.

“I know you won’t. I trust you,” you breathe.

His toothy grin is still fanged, perfect rows of teeth bared in a sparkling grin in spite of the sharp canines that decorate his smile.

He’s gentler as he leans forward, parting your legs to make space for him between them. Gentle fingers trace your jaw, tilting it to give him the optimal angle to press soft lips to yours.

“Detective,” he whispers against your lips. His white lashes flutter as he rests his forehead softly against yours.

“Yeah, Toru?”

“Let’s try this.”

You pull back slightly to get a better look at him, amused. “Try what, Satoru? Sex?”

“No,” he chuckles breathlessly. “Let me make you mine.”

Your eyes widen. “Yours?” Your heart races in your chest, pounding at the confines of your ribs as though it stands a chance at escaping. “Toru, it’s my job to hunt you.”

“So? You’re under me right now, what difference does it make?”

“I-” you hesitate, glancing at the curtains of the motel room as though they’ve suddenly grown more interesting than the man in front of you. “I’m not really good at anything else, Satoru. I can’t quit, and what if you get caught? I work with other hunters.”

“I won’t get caught,” he mumbles against your skin as he continues his ministrations of leaving kisses along your jaw. He’s soft this time, each kiss more delicate than the last.

“What if you do though, Satoru? I’m serious,” you insist, gripping tightly to his shoulders in an effort to get eye contact. His expression hardens as he examines your expression.

“Then we’ll figure it out.”

You’re almost shocked by the solemnity of his voice. You want this just as he does but the odds aren’t in your favor and he doesn’t seem to realize that.

“I can’t put you or the kids at risk,” you pause, brow furrowing, “you shouldn’t have told me about them, by the way.”

“I trust you,” he shrugs, pouting, “you won’t put us at risk. You can visit us between jobs and if things work out, maybe we can move your office here.”

It’s a big ask, effectively a long distance relationship between an unlikely duo. It’s not like Satoru can uproot his life and leave the kids to fend for themselves but you can’t uproot your life for someone you met last week.

Still, it’s not unreasonable. It’s not like long distance is impossible given you’re only three hours away, and fuck, you can’t deny just how much you’ve enjoyed being around him for the past week. Even before you knew he was a wolf, you struggled with the idea of ending whatever it was between the both of you.

As if to help your decision, Satoru moves a warm palm over yours, lifting your hand to rest over his heart. It’s pounding, his chest not just warm but hot to the touch. Just the thought of you saying no has set his entire body on fire, stressed at the idea of your rejection.

Just for once, Satoru wants to be selfish. He hopes you’ll be selfish too.

“One condition, Toru.”

His eyes gleam hopefully as he leans in, listening intently.

“You owe me that dinner date,” you grin.

He chuckles happily, leaning forward to capture your lips once more. “Don’t have to tell me twice, sweetheart.”

His hands are back on you in an instant, exploring every inch of your body with the fervor of a man starved. Something brushes your leg and you gasp, holding his shoulders tight.

“Y’ scared of the big bad wolf?” Satoru grins with lidded eyes as you stare past him at the fluffy white tail flicking back and forth wildly.

“That might be the cheesiest, most embarrassing thing I’ve ever heard,” you groan, rubbing your palms over your face.

“Get used to it,” he chides against the skin of your neck, nipping on the sensitive skin just above your collarbone, opposite your already very purpled hickey he’d left the other night. His hands come to rest on either side of your head as he leans over you, effectively pinning you to the mattress under his weight.

He mutters praise against your skin with each nip and kiss like a mantra, the feeling of your hips bucking desperately beneath him sending him spiraling once more into a lustful state of desperation.

Whimpers fall from your lips with each drag of his hardened cock against your soaked pussy, each moan sinful as you beg for more. You cling to his shoulders for purchase, ragged breaths and pants filling the cool air of the motel room.

With each roll of Gojo’s hips, his fingers grip the sheets tighter until claws are tearing through the fabric, a huff leaving his lips. You slide your fingers down his torso, gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it up over his head. He obliges, tossing it to the floor across the room and leaning back to discard the sweatpants you’d lent him, careful not to hit his ankle.

With no boxers, he’s bare before you, a sight to behold as his cock stands at attention, tip flushed and angry with pre-cum spilling from the tip. He wastes no time in stripping you of your clothes as well, eagerly tossing your pants and shirt aside.

“Easy, Toru,” you warn as his clawed hand grazes your injury, but he’s careful this time, intertwining his fingers in yours as he passes control to you by flipping you on top of him.

Gojo would give anything to pound you into the mattress with his fat cock, but in relinquishing his control to you, he knows he won’t hurt you. He’ll be soft for only you.

The feeling of his length twitching beneath you pulls a gasp from your throat. Leaning forward on his chest, you cast a glance at the tail flicking wildly from where it’s curled on his left side, brushing your thigh every so often.

Veiny hands find your waist as he holds you in place while he bucks his hips upwards, pulling a ragged moan from your sweet lips. It’s then that you finally start moving and Satoru’s head falls back against the headboard in bliss as your slick folds coat him in arousal.

A groan tears through Satoru in time with your moan of his name as his tip grinds against your clit. His fingers hold you in a bruising grip, his claws dancing along the surface of your skin, though they never pierce you.

“Shit, Toru-” you breathe, glancing down as you line yourself up over his cockhead, lowering yourself onto him.

His jaw hangs slack with pleasure as your walls grip him tightly, fluttering with desire as you lower yourself slowly down on his length. Bottoming out, you brace yourself on his chest as you give yourself a moment to adjust to his girth that stings and stretches your walls.

“Fuck, y’re tight, baby.”

As the pain shifts to pleasure, you roll your hips, pushing off of his broad chest to gain momentum as you bounce on his cock. He sits back, his fluffy white tail twitching as he resists the urge to thrust up into you, allowing you to set the pace.

He fills you up so much that each bounce on his length causes your thighs to shake in bliss, the vibrations of your trembling sending pleasure straight through the man sitting beneath you. His cock jerks as your shakiness causes you to slow your ministrations and he can’t help it anymore as he holds your hips in place and fucks up into you.

Satoru wants control.

His pace is cruel, his cock tip brushing the depths of your cunt. Each thrust brushes your g-spot so deliciously as though he already knows your body inside and out, because he does. Satoru has memorized each and every one of your moans, burned into his brain to tell him exactly what you want and need, all from your first night together. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t make use of it.

The babbles of his name that fall from your lips are so pretty that he can’t help the way he roughly grabs your chin, tilting your fucked out expression to face him. The eye contact sends him into a frenzy, flipping you both once again to push you into a nasty mating press.

He’s careful of your injury as he presses your knees into your shoulders, his cock buried into your cunt as the new angle sends sparks of pleasure straight to your stomach, coiling tightly as your release nears.

“Toru- hah- please-” you beg him as you near your release and oh how pretty he thinks you look with pleading glazed eyes looking up at him. He loves to have you folded so beautifully beneath him as he fucks you relentlessly.

His own climax fast approaches as he pounds you into the mattress, letting out a guttural growl. “You take me so well, pretty girl,” he praises you, compliments falling from his lips so easily. “Love the way you say my name like that,” he continues lowly, lowering his head to press a sloppy kiss to your lips. 

“‘M so close, Toru.”

“Atta girl,” he hums, running his tongue along the bruised skin on your collarbone as he leans over you further, reaching down to rub circles over your clit with the pad of his finger.

“Toru-!” You gasp as the coil in your stomach releases suddenly when he introduces the friction of his finger and your walls clench around him. A wave of pleasure crashes over you like a tsunami and you throw your head back into the pillows, scratching harsh red lines into the muscles of Satoru’s back.

He doesn’t slow his pace as he rides out the pleasure with you, feeling each wave of your orgasm as your walls squeeze him and milk his own orgasm from him, sending the same euphoria through his own body. His muscles tense and contract over you as he holds himself up, his body jerking and jolting in time with yours as he paints your walls with his cum, the mixture of both releases pooling and dripping down your ass.

Barely managing to hold himself up, he hisses from the overstimulation as he pulls his throbbing cock from your pussy, a ring of white coating his length. With a groan, he rolls to your side and off the bed to grab a towel. With a gentle kiss to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, he cleans the pooling arousal from between your thighs and crawls back into the bed. Immediately, he pulls you into his chest, cradling you so softly you would hardly know he had you in a mating press moments ago.

You bury your face into his neck, giggling when you feel his tail brush your leg. “Do you have no control over that thing?”

“I do,” he hums, “but it makes you laugh so I’m not bothering.”

You grin against his skin, sweat-slicked skin sticking to his as you enjoy his presence in the afterglow of sex. The room is silent save for quiet pants and the occasional thump of Satoru’s tail against the bed.

As you both catch your breath and the air around you grows serene, the quiet thumps of Satoru’s tail eventually come to a halt. The arms that encircle you are no longer clawed, his teeth dulled in his somewhat parted lips.

He looks angelic like this, white hair mussed and lashes fluttering very lightly as your breath fans his chest. There’s a sort of charm to knowing that even if you can’t see it, there’s a happily wagging tail that isn’t all that metaphoric hidden deep within the soft man before you. It’s funny to think of him as a clawed and fanged monster when he’s as goofy and sweet as you’ve come to know him.

You know it won’t be easy to manage a relationship with everything working against you, but somehow you think it just might work. Maybe it’s knowing you can’t possibly go through worse than being attacked by another wolf, maybe it’s how safe you feel wrapped tightly in his arms as his legs tangle with yours, or maybe it’s the fact that you so selfishly want it to work, but you think a future with Satoru sounds like heaven.

If it means becoming a ‘monster lawyer’ or whatever silly idea Satoru would come up with, then you were willing to give it a try for him. Anything for one more moment tucked tightly into the valley of his chest.

masterlist

❦ a/n ; i honestly had a lot of fun with this one and hope you did too ♡ kinda obsessed with werewolf!gojo tbh. fangs make me feral or sm idk. anyways likes/reblogs/comments are always super appreciated! ♡ ❦ taglist ; @ackermendick

[nyoomfruits]

@mecachrome posted a thing about fennec fox lando and it gave me the brain wigglies so!!! here we are lmao

There’s some kind of cat in Oscar’s drivers room. It’s small and white, with giant ears and a pointy snout, and curled up in a little ball on top of Oscar’s discarded ‘Good Times’ hoodie. Oscar raises an eyebrow at it, tries to remember if he missed some kind of memo about service pets or something.

He must make some kind of noise, because the cat-something suddenly cracks open an eye and lets out a panicked screech noise when he spots Oscar, jumping up and beelining for the door, knocking over three water bottles and an entire side table in the process before disappearing into Lando’s driver’s room across the hallway, leaving a bewidlred Oscar behind in his own upturned driver's room.

And that, more or less, is how Oscar finds out his new teammate can shapeshift into a fennec fox.

--

Kim’s eyeing Oscar warily when he makes his way into McLaren hospitality that morning. “Uhm,” he says, eyes flicking down to the obvious bulge in Oscar’s hoodie pocket.

“Don’t ask,” Oscar says. “He’s refusing to get out of there.”

Lando chooses that exact moment to poke his pointy little snout out of the pocket, and blearily glares at Kim before tucking himself back in. He’s had this strange obsession with Oscar’s hoodies that Oscar’s long since given up trying to figure out. Nowadays he just accepts all his clothes are perpetually covered in white hair and that he sometimes ends up playing Taxi Piastri all weekend, especially when Lando’s having a bit of a rough one.

Which he’s been having a lot of, with the whole championship thing.

“Do I, uh. Does he want breakfast too?” Kim asks, still eyeing Oscar’s hoodie as Oscar sits down on the chair across from him.

Oscar shrugs. “Lando? Breakfast?”

His hoodie lets out a pitiful squeak. “Just a chicken wrap, if they have it,” Oscar translates.

“Right,” Kim says, and with one last wary look, makes himself scarce. Inside Oscar’s hoodie pocket, Lando lets out a content little noise, and snuggles ever so closer to Oscar’s abdomen.

--

There’s two giant ears poking out of Oscar’s suitcase. He squints at them as he walks into his hotel room. “How did you even get in here?” He asks, as he shucks of his McLaren branded hoodie and throws it in the direction of the suitcase. A singular paw emerges from the mess and drags the hoodie closer, so the ears are now covered.

“Just because I can see you doesn’t mean you’re not there,” Oscar says, shaking his head fondly as he flops down on the bed. “Also don’t think being cute will get you out of explaining how on earth you got into my hotel room.”

His suitcase squeaks. Oscar rolls his eyes and turns on something on the TV, propping the pillows of his bed up and settling in against them.

When he startles awake, roughly two hours later, he has a bundle of happily purring fennec fox curled up in his arms.

--

Lando has the zoomies. Oscar can hear, through the thin wall of his driver’s room, the telltale patter patter patter of Lando’s paws, the occasional crashing sound when he knocks something off something. Oscar sighs, hoists himself off the couch, goes to see what’s going on.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asks, leaning against the doorway as fennec fox Lando zooms over the couch and faults over the massage table. “Come on, bud. You can’t go into the car like this.”

That seems to do the trick. Unfortunately fox Lando decides to change back into human Lando halfway his jump towards the closet, and so he ends up flinging himself bodily into it. Oscar rushes forward and only just manages to catch him when he stumbles back. “Careful,” he says, softly, looking down into Lando’s greenbluegrey eyes as Lando smiles a little bashfully at him.

“My hero,” Lando says, bites at his lip.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Oscar asks.

Lando rights himself, steps away from Oscar’s arms. Oscar tries not to be too sad about that. “I, uh. It’s kind of. It’s stupid?”

“Okay?” Oscar asks, trying to sound as non-judging as possible. “You can still share.”

“Right. Uh. Hey, so. Remember how like. I love your hoodies?”

Oscar snorts. “Vaguely,” he says.

“Well, okay, turns out I uh. Also love. You.” Lando stares at him with those big eyes, hopping from foot to foot.

“Me,” Oscar parrots.

“You,” Lando says. “So, uh. That.”

“Ah,” Oscar says. “You know, that does like. Explain a lot.”

“Does it?” Lando asks, chewing on his hoodie string now. Actually, on further inspection, it’s totally Oscar’s hoodie.

“It really does,” Oscar says. And then, because it’s rude to keep someone waiting, kisses Lando square on the mouth.

Lando, clearly surprised by the move, squeaks, and promptly turns back into his fox form.

Right. Okay. That’s going to need some work, probably. But that’s fine. Oscar’s got time. Their whole lives, if Lando lets him. For now, he’s content with kissing the little fox between his giant ears, and trying not to laugh too hard when it turns back into a very disgruntled yet slightly embarrassed looking Lando.

[23victoria]

𝔤𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔶

*☾⋆･ﾟ pairings: 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔢𝔰 𝔩𝔢𝔠𝔩𝔢𝔯𝔠 + 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔬𝔰 𝔰𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔷 x 𝔣𝔢𝔪!𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

word count:11𝓀

*☾⋆･ﾟ synopsis: paying for sex was a first, but after all, who could blame you? it had been too long, and you deserved to have a little fun too. besides, it was just a straightforward transaction—money for pleasure. what could possibly go wrong? 𝔠𝓌!☠︎ pornstar, escort, pet names, praise kink, rough sex, fingering, oral (f & m), body worship, overstimulation, size kink, belly bulge, dacryphilia, voyeurism/exhibitionism, creampie, face sitting, double penetration, threesome, wax play, blindfolded, anal play/sex, throat fucking, nipple play, begging, aftercare

authors note: i am so sorry is this is complete shit, i struggled with this so much and….yea, i hope it’s good and again i’m sorry likes, asks, and reblogs are appreciated! i hope you enjoy :)

𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔟𝔢 𝔞𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔶 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱?! CLICK HERE!

*☾⋆･ﾟ f1 MASTERLIST. KINKThe TOBER MASTERLIST.

The plush carpet muffled your footsteps as you paced the length of the suite, the glass of wine in your hand barely touched. You weren’t here for the wine, after all. The cool rim of the glass pressed against your lip was a distraction, a flimsy attempt to calm the anxiety swirling in your chest. Your reflection caught in the mirror, and you almost rolled your eyes. Dressed in the black lingerie you’d splurged on for the occasion, you looked... ridiculous. Sexy, sure, but ridiculous. Who pays $6k for sex? Apparently, you do.

You snorted, shaking your head at yourself. God, what the hell am I doing here?

The reasoning had seemed airtight at the time. Two years of celibacy after that disaster with your ex—who, naturally, had managed to ruin not just your relationship but your self-esteem too. He'd cheated, and when he left, he took a piece of you with him. Trust, confidence, maybe even desire. All of it was locked away in the aftermath of his betrayal. But you were a grown woman, an adult who could make her own decisions.

I could fuck anyone I want to, right? You thought, half-defending yourself, half-mocking the idea. Right. Except I haven’t. The lingering anxiety had kept you paralyzed, unable to even flirt, let alone let someone close again. So, you made an impulsive choice, one that had you sitting in a five-star hotel, waiting for a stranger.

Not just any stranger, though. The best. That's what the website had promised, and you had researched thoroughly—more than you cared to admit. Every review, every service listed, the options detailed right down to the type of man you could request. It all felt clinical, safe. A transaction.

That’s all this is. A simple transaction. You repeated it like a mantra, hoping the words would settle the knot in your stomach.

But the number—$6,000—echoed louder in your mind. Six grand for sex. You winced, taking another slow sip of wine, trying to justify it again.

He was supposed to be the best, though. The reviews had gushed, the site had practically bragged about how this guy was the epitome of everything you could want: good-looking, professional, discreet. For what they charged, he better be.

But that didn’t stop the anxiety from clawing at your chest. What if you got too stuck in your head? What if, after all of this buildup, the wine and the lingerie and the research, you chickened out? You’d waste his time, your time, and a small fortune on top of it. $6,000. Jesus.

You laughed at the absurdity of it. Of course, I’d make a stupid decision like this.

But the laughter faded quickly, leaving you standing alone in the middle of the suite, your skin buzzing with nerves. What if this doesn’t even help? What if it makes things worse? You pushed the thoughts away, though they clung to the edges of your mind like a fog you couldn’t quite shake off.

The sound of a knock at the door yanked you from your spiraling thoughts. Your heart lurched. You hesitated for a moment before setting your wine glass on the table. With one last glance at yourself in the mirror, you crossed the room and opened the door.

And there he was.

For a split second, your mind went completely blank. Standing in front of you was, hands down, the hottest man you’d ever seen in person. He was just a couple of inches taller than you, with a lean but muscular build that suggested he worked out without being overly bulky. His shirt hugged his chest in all the right ways, and his dark hair was styled effortlessly. You blinked, mouth slightly open, as you tried to take him in.

“Bonsoir,” he greeted, his voice a low rumble laced with the softest French accent. “My companion should be here any moment. Sorry, he’s running late.”

You blinked again, still processing. Fuck. That accent. You were barely listening to what he was saying, too distracted by the smoothness of his voice, the way the words rolled off his tongue with an effortless charm that made your stomach flip. Lord. This man alone was worth the $6k.

But as his words finally registered in your brain, confusion crept in. Companion?

You stared at him, your mind catching up a little too slowly. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, his head tilting as if trying to read your expression. You must’ve looked confused—because you were.

Before you could voice the question on the tip of your tongue, there was another knock at the door.

You froze for a second, then watched as the man—Charles, you assumed—stepped aside to let in whoever was on the other side. And that’s when he walked in.

Another man, just as stunning as the first. His presence hit you like a wave. Taller than Charles, with broad shoulders and an air of confidence that instantly commanded attention. His smile was devilishly handsome, and his dark eyes sparkled with something teasing as he took you in. He introduced himself with a thick, sexy Spanish accent that nearly made your knees buckle.

“I’m Carlos,” he said, his voice so deep it sent a shiver down your spine.

You just stood there, mouth slightly parted, trying to process the fact that two incredibly hot men were now in your hotel room.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The room was quiet, a charged sort of anticipation lingering in the air as you moved about, keeping yourself busy. Both Charles and Carlos stood patiently in front of you, but you were distinctly aware of every glance they exchanged, every slight smile they gave each other. In a weak attempt to fill the silence, you turned to the small minibar by the window, which you’d noticed was stocked with a surprising assortment of wines and liquors.

“Would you guys… like a drink?” you offered, trying to keep your voice steady. “I think there’s some champagne, maybe wine, or even whiskey if you want.”

Charles’s eyes followed your every move, and Carlos leaned back with an amused expression, both men seemingly content to just watch as you babbled on.

“And, um, I got some food, too.” You gestured to the tray of tiny sandwiches and fruit that sat on the table near the window, small bites you’d hoped might keep your nerves in check. “You know, just in case anyone’s hungry. They’re little, so they won’t ruin your appetite, but they’re actually quite good! I mean, the hotel did a great job with the whole presentation thing…”

You trailed off, catching the amused smiles that Charles and Carlos exchanged as you kept talking. Charles raised a brow, and Carlos bit back a laugh, clearly enjoying your rambling. You suddenly felt heat rise to your cheeks and stammered a little as you continued, “I just figured, you know, if we’re going to spend some time here together, it would be good to… um, settle in, I guess?”

Carlos leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched you with a look that was both patient and playful. He exchanged a knowing glance with Charles, who finally spoke, his soft accent lingering on your name in a way that made you freeze mid-sentence.

“Y/N.”

The sound of it in his French accent, low and smooth, made your heart flutter. You could feel yourself hanging on every syllable, the room somehow feeling even warmer as you turned to face him fully.

“Yes?” you murmured, breath catching in your throat.

He held your gaze, his lips curving up at the corners in a gentle smile. “Breathe, relax.” He reached out and placed a comforting hand on your arm, his fingers warm and reassuring. “What are you nervous about, baby?”

It felt like a dam broke, and before you knew it, the words were spilling out. You hesitated, took a deep breath, and finally, with a tentative glance between them, you spoke. “I… well, it’s just been a long time for me,” you admitted. “I haven’t done anything like this in a couple of years.”

They both nodded, their expressions patient and encouraging, inviting you to go on.

“I was in a relationship,” you continued, voice quieter now. “He cheated on me. It… kind of destroyed me, to be honest.” You offered a small, self-deprecating laugh. “He also had a few choice words to say about me before we ended things. Made me feel… insecure, I guess. Like maybe I wasn’t good enough.”

Charles’s expression shifted instantly, his jaw tightening. “What a fool,” he muttered, clearly unimpressed. “He’s an idiot and a piece of shit for saying any of that to you. You deserve better, you know that, right?”

Carlos nodded in agreement, stepping closer with an intense look that softened when he met your eyes. “He didn’t deserve you, mami. But tonight? We’re making up for those two years, trust us.”

They both looked at you, waiting, not pushing, but you could feel the anticipation building between you. It was like standing on the edge of something exhilarating, and a part of you wanted to let go and trust them. You took a breath, feeling a surge of boldness. What were the odds that two men this stunning would walk into your life again?

“Okay,” you whispered, looking between them, the single word hanging in the air with an almost electric weight. They shared a look, subtle but charged, and then turned back to you.

Charles smiled. “Before we get started, there’s just one more thing. We need a safe word. If you want to stop at any point, if anything feels uncomfortable or just too much, you can say it, and we’ll stop, no questions asked.”

You thought for a moment, rolling the idea around in your head before giving a small smile. “How about… wine?”

Both men chuckled, Carlos’s deep laughter filling the room as he tilted his head. “That’s cute, mami. Okay, ‘wine’ it is. And we’ll use a few more, too—just to make sure you’re always comfortable. Say ‘green’ if you want us to keep going or go a little faster, ‘yellow’ if you want us to slow down, and, of course, ‘red’ if you need us to stop. Sound good?”

You nodded, the nervous flutter in your stomach finally beginning to settle. Carlos smiled warmly, eyes meeting yours. “I need verbal confirmation, mami,” he said, his tone gentle yet firm.

“Yes,” you replied softly. “That sounds good.”

They exchanged another look, a shared understanding passing between them, and then Charles turned to you, his gaze soft but filled with a quiet intensity. He moved closer, settling on the edge of the bed beside you, and lifted a hand to gently stroke a strand of hair away from your face.

“Okay, baby,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper. “Let’s start.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As you lay back against the silken sheets, your heart raced, caught between excitement and nerves. Charles was so close, his presence enveloping you as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your neck. The sensation sent shivers cascading down your spine, igniting every nerve in your body and causing you to arch instinctively toward him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice deep and sultry, a velvet caress against your skin. Each kiss he placed along your collarbone was tender yet deliberate, a promise that made you melt into the bedding, your body responding to him without reservation.

His mouth traveled down, kissing a path that made you gasp softly, your breath hitching as he lingered at your chest. The warmth of his body hovered over you, and as he pressed his lips against the soft curves of your body, it felt as though the world outside faded away completely. 

“Let me take care of you,” he breathed, his voice low and commanding as he settled between your thighs, looking up at you with an intensity that made your heart race. The anticipation hung in the air, heavy and sweet, as he moved closer.

“Charles…” you whispered, almost pleadingly.

“Trust me,” he replied, and with that, he pulled down your lacy black underwear pressing his finger on your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your veins. The sensation was overwhelming, and you gasped as his fingers slowly entered you, moving in and out slowly. He coaxed you into the rhythm as he curled his finger expertly, finding that spot deep inside you that made you gasp even louder.

“See? There you go,” he praised, his voice smooth and honeyed. “So perfect. So responsive for me baby, hmm.” Each word seemed to seep into your skin, igniting something within you. The room felt alive with the sounds of your breathy moans and the soft rustle of the sheets beneath you.

Charles watched you intently, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he added another finger, stretching you deliciously. “So beautiful,” he breathed, his eyes locked onto yours as he focused solely on you. “You taste so delicious.”

Your cheeks flushed at his words, feeling the heat pool lower in your abdomen as he licked his fingers clean, savoring every drop. The sight of him enjoying you so thoroughly sent another wave of heat through you, your heart racing faster than ever.

“Don’t hold back,” he urged, a low growl escaping his lips as he maintained that intoxicating rhythm. “Let me hear those pretty sounds.”

You could feel yourself spiraling, the pressure building as he curled his fingers deeper, drawing out moans from you. “I… I can’t…” you managed to whimper, the words barely escaping your lips as you trembled beneath him.

“Shh, just let go,” he encouraged, his voice dripping with a mixture of authority and tenderness. “You can do it. I’m right here.”

His confidence flooded through you, and with every thrust of his fingers, the world outside the hotel room faded away completely. You surrendered to the sensations, feeling the tension in your body reaching an unbearable peak. Your vision blurred, and you could feel the heat pooling inside you, ready to explode.

“Charles,” you gasped, feeling the waves of ecstasy start to crash over you. “I’m—”

“Yes, baby, let it happen,” he coaxed, his eyes dark and fierce as he continued his relentless pace. “You’re doing so well.”

With a final curl of his fingers, you came, the pressure bursting as pleasure washed over you in a tidal wave. Your body tensed, trembling beneath him as moans spilled from your lips, each sound wrapping around the dim room like a spell. Charles watched you with an intensity that made your heart race, his fingers never faltering as he helped you ride out the high.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You floated down from the heights of bliss, feeling both blissfully vulnerable and utterly adored.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, the taste of you lingering between you. As he pulled back slightly, a playful smirk danced on his lips. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

The intimacy of the moment left you breathless, a lingering warmth settling in your chest. You smiled back at him, your cheeks still flushed from pleasure and the glow of the dim light, feeling both exposed and cherished.

But before you could catch your breath, another wave of desire crashed over you, and you felt yourself yearning for more. Charles shifted closer again, his lips brushing against your neck, igniting the fire that still simmered within you. “You’re not done yet, are you?” he teased softly, his breath warm against your skin.

You shook your head slightly, the thought of indulging in this moment with him—and with Carlos, who you knew was still there, waiting, watching, heightening the anticipation—sent a thrill through you. “Let’s see how far we can take this,” he murmured, a wicked glint in his eye as he kissed along your jaw, his lips trailing down your throat.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Carlos broke the tension, his voice low and sultry. “My turn now, mami. Let me taste how sweet you are.”

Before you could fully process his words, Carlos was there, his mouth on yours, and it sent a jolt of electricity straight through your body. His lips were warm and inviting as they enveloped you, and the sensation was overwhelming. You gasped, when he pulled away, kissing his way down your body until he’s between your thighs, your hands instinctively finding their way into his hair, gripping tightly as he teased you.

His tongue flicked expertly against your clit, sucking and biting, driving you wild. Each swirl of his tongue sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through you, building on the lingering sensations from Charles. “Oh, fuck Carlos…” you moaned, your back arching slightly, the pleasure making your heart race.

“Fuck, baby, that’s hot,” Charles muttered, his eyes dark with desire as he watched Carlos work his magic. The sight of your pleasure fueled him, and you could feel the heat radiating off both men, the intensity of the moment heightening every sensation.

Carlos wasn’t holding back; he was relentless, his mouth moving skillfully as he worked your clit, driving you further into ecstasy. And when his tongue plunged in and out of your warmth, every movement made you whimper, the sound escaping you before you could catch it.

“God, yes…” you breathed, your hips instinctively rolling against his mouth, seeking more, needing more. The world around you blurred, and it was just you and the exquisite sensations you were feeling.

“Ride my face, mami,” he groaned against you, the vibration of his voice sending an additional thrill through your body. You obliged, moving to sit on his face, your hands on the headboard as you instinctively moved to grind against him, the pleasure building higher and higher.

“Ohh, fuck,” you yelped, feeling the tight coil in your abdomen beginning to unravel. The waves of pleasure crashed over you, and you felt your body respond, shaking under the intensity as you approached the precipice of your next orgasm.

Carlos continued his relentless assault, slipping three fingers inside you, and you moaned loudly at the feeling, pulling his hair tight, urging him on. “Yes! Just like that,” you gasped, the combination of his fingers and mouth driving you wild. “P-please don’t stop!”

And he didn’t, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. As he inserted a fourth finger, the sensation was overwhelming. You felt yourself teetering on the brink, ready to plunge into that sweet abyss of pleasure.

“Carlos! I’m gonna—” you gasped, feeling your body tensing, the waves crashing around you.

“Let go, mami. I got you,” he encouraged, his voice deep and sultry as he lapped at you hungrily. At those words, your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and shaking, your body writhing under him.

Carlos didn’t stop; he continued to eat you out through the waves of your orgasm, each thrust of his fingers and flick of his tongue sending aftershocks through your body. “Oh my God, Carlos!” you cried, feeling the intensity of it all consume you.

“Fuck mami, you taste so good,” he murmured against your sensitive skin as he licked you clean, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and lust. “I could stay in between these sexy thighs of yours all day.”

Completely breathless, your body a trembling mess of pleasure, as you basked in the aftermath of everything. Carlos finally pulled away, leaving you dazed and reeling from the intensity of what just happened. Your legs felt like jelly, and you were sure you’d lost all sense of reality for a moment.

Charles chuckled softly, clearly entertained as he watched you come down from your high. “I’d say that’s a successful start,” he teased, his voice filled with satisfaction.

You managed a breathy laugh, your heart racing as you looked between the two of them. “You two… wow.”

Carlos grinned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Just wait until you see what else we can do, mami.”

Charles leaned closer, a playful spark in his gaze. “What do you think, baby? Are you ready for more?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I think I’m ready,” you said softly, your voice steady and filled with determination.

Charles’s eyes lit up, and Carlos’s smirk widened. “Good,” Charles replied, his tone sultry. “Because we’re just getting started.”

“Close your eyes, mami,” Carlos said, his voice a deep, seductive whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You hesitated, a flicker of doubt creeping in. “Wait, what? Why?”

“Do you trust us?” His tone was confident, teasing yet soothing, coaxing you into submission.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you like a warm blanket. This was all new territory, a blend of exhilaration and trepidation. “Yes,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. You closed your eyes, surrendering to whatever they had in store for you.

You heard a soft sound, like fabric ripping, and your heart raced as you felt something cool and smooth wrap around your eyes. The realization hit you: they had blindfolded you. The world around you shifted into a haze, every sound amplified, every sensation heightened. You could feel the heat radiating from both men as they surrounded you, their presence both comforting and electrifying.

“Just relax, mami,” Carlos murmured, and you felt him lay down beside you. His lips found your skin, kissing up along your breasts, his mouth moving with deliberate care as he bit and licked, teasing you into a frenzy.

A soft moan escaped your lips, involuntarily. The sensation was exquisite, a mix of pleasure and delicious anticipation, your body arching towards him, craving more.

As his mouth worked its magic, you felt another warmth against your thighs, a slow, deliberate caress. “You’re so sexy, baby,” the voice said, and you realized it was Charles. His breath was hot against your skin, teasingly close but never quite touching.

Your heart raced, the anticipation leaving you trembling. They were both here, right next to you, guiding you into a world where your senses reigned supreme. You felt someone’s hands travel up your thighs, moving closer to your core, teasing you. “You like that?” Charles asked, his voice deep and low, sending another shiver down your spine.

“Y-yes…” you gasped, biting your lip as the sensations heightened. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and charged with unspoken promises.

“Let’s make this even more fun, shall we?” Carlos said, his voice low and seductive.

Suddenly, you felt warm wax drip onto your stomach, and the sensation made you gasp, your body instinctively reacting to the heat. “What are you doing?” you managed to stutter, a mixture of excitement and fear flooding through you.

“Just trust us, mami,” Carlos cooed. “You’ll love it.”

As he leaned down to kiss the area right next to the wax, the contrast between the heat of the wax and the coolness of his mouth was intoxicating. He pressed gentle kisses along your skin, creating a delicious tension that left you breathless.

The moment felt electric. With every kiss and caress, you surrendered a little more, letting them guide you deeper into this world of pleasure. Carlos’s fingers lightly traced your clit, teasing you, while Charles’s kisses grew more passionate, sloppy and eager on your mouth.

Suddenly, you felt Carlos’s fingers slip lower, just brushing against your asshole. A sharp gasp escaped you as he continued to tease you, working you into a frenzy. “You’re doing so well, baby,” he praised, his tone dripping with lust. “Just let go and enjoy.”

The tension built inside you, a knot of anticipation tightening with every flick of his fingers. You could feel your body responding instinctively, the heat pooling low in your stomach. “Carlos…” you moaned, your heart racing as he continued to tease you.

Then, with deliberate slowness, Carlos pressed his finger inside you stretching you and making you squirm. “Shhh,” he soothed, as you felt the slight burn of being filled. “Just relax, mami. It’ll feel good, I promise.”

You could hardly process the pleasure coursing through you as he added a second finger, moving in and out, stretching you just right. “Oh, fuck!” you gasped, your body arching into him as the sensation intensified.

“That’s it,” Carlos murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “So good for me, mami.”

Charles, ever watchful, leaned closer, kissing you more deeply, coaxing your tongue to dance with his. You melted into the kiss, feeling utterly consumed by them both. The combination of their touches was intoxicating, and you surrendered completely, losing yourself in the pleasure.

“Three fingers now,” Carlos warned, and your breath hitched in anticipation. He pushed a third finger inside you, and your body quivered, an involuntary moan escaping you as the sensation hit you like a bolt of lightning. The stretch was exquisite, a heady mix of pleasure and slight discomfort that made your heart race even faster.

“That’s it, mami,” Carlos coaxed, his fingers curling just right inside you. “You’re taking it so well.”

Charles pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes, his expression a mix of admiration and lust. “You’re incredible,” he said, breathless.

The combination of their praises and the sensations swirling around you was almost too much. You felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, ready to plunge into that sweet release. “I’m—” you began, but Carlos cut you off.

“Not yet, baby,” he said, his tone firm yet playful. “I want you to feel every second.”

And with that, he began to move his fingers in a rhythmic, deliberate motion, curling and pressing against your most sensitive spot, coaxing you closer and closer to that edge. You couldn’t help but moan louder, your body betraying you as you let yourself slip into the abyss of pleasure. “Please, Carlos… I can’t hold on much longer.”

“Good,” he replied with a smirk, clearly enjoying the control he had over you. “That’s exactly where I want you.”

Charles leaned in closer again, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, deepening the sensation and pulling you even further into the haze. You felt your body quivering, the heat coiling tightly in your belly as Carlos continued his movements, the rhythm building higher and higher.

With a final thrust of Carlos’s fingers, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, intense and consuming. You cried out, your body trembling as pleasure surged through you, leaving you breathless.

“Fuck, yes,” Carlos said, his fingers continuing to work you through your release, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you. You could feel his excitement radiating, and your heart raced with the intensity of it all.

“Perfect, mami,” he murmured, kissing your thighs softly as you came down from the high.

You lay there, utterly spent, but also electrified. Charles and Carlos exchanged knowing glances, clearly pleased with how you had responded.

“Are you okay, mami?” Carlos asked, his tone softening as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“Yeah,” you breathed, trying to catch your breath. 

"That’s good baby. Are you ready?" Charles murmurs, his accent wrapping around each word. You nod, and he gives a small, reassuring smile, waiting for your permission as he begins slowly pushing himself into you, the sudden stretch making your back arch off the bed as you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

He’s patient, attentive, and entirely focused on you, each movement deliberate and giving you the time to adjust to his size. The slow, steady rhythm of his thrusts pulls you in, allowing you to relax into the experience. Feeling bolder, you breathe out, “More.”

Charles raises an eyebrow, smirking slightly as if surprised, but a spark lights his gaze. “What was that, baby?” he teases softly, his voice playful, inviting.

“Faster, please,” you manage, giving in to the sensation. His grin widens, satisfied. And as he begins to deepen his thrusts as he moves faster. 

Charles’s pace was relentless, every thrust deeper and harder than the last, driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your back arches, your fingers gripping the sheets as your body moves with his. His hands grip your waist firmly, pulling you closer to him as he pounds into you, the room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and the breathless gasps escaping your lips.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Charles groans. His pace doesn’t slow, his body moving with precision and force. You can feel your orgasm building, the tension winding tighter with every thrust until it feels like you’re going to break.

“Damn, mami. You look so pretty like that,” he murmurs, his gaze smoldering. “Look at that face, those lips… I love those lips,” he says, leaning closer until he’s right by your head. “So beautiful. Open up that sweet mouth for me, please.”

Your eyes meet his, filled with desire, and you nod, parting your lips invitingly.

parting your lips as Carlos slides his cock into your mouth, his grip firm but gentle on your throat as he begins to fuck it. The sensation of being filled from both ends sends your mind spiraling, the overwhelming pressure making it impossible to think of anything but the pleasure consuming you.

Charles’s pace quickens, his grip on your hips tightening as he continues to fuck you relentlessly. Your moans are muffled around Carlos’s cock, but you can feel the vibrations from your sounds as they travel through your throat. The weight of it all—the fullness, the pleasure, the intensity—has you clawing at Charles’s thighs, trying to ground yourself, but it’s futile.

“So sexy,” Carlos praises, his voice rough as he thrusts into your mouth, his grip on your neck keeping you in place. “Doing so good mami… taking both of us like this.”

The praise only spurs you on, even as your body threatens to give in to the intensity of it all. Your mind is foggy, lost in the pleasure as Charles hits that spot inside you that has your toes curling, a rush of heat surging through your core. The tension in your body snaps, and before you know it, you’re coming hard around his dick, your thighs tightening around him as waves of pleasure crash through you.

Charles doesn’t slow down. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, each thrust pulling more pleasure out of you until you’re trembling, your body a mess of overstimulation. Carlos’s hand moves to pull your hair, holding you steady as his cock moves deeper into your throat. You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the overstimulation but the heat between the three of you only intensifies.

Your body shakes with the aftershocks of your orgasm, but Charle’s fast pace pushes you toward the edge again. His grip tightens on your hips, as he moves faster before he pulls out realising on your stomach.  

Carlos’s thrusts grow erratic, and with one final one, he comes down your throat, his groans mixing with Charles’s. You swallow easily, the warmth of him filling your mouth.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’re still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm when you hear Charles's low voice. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he says, his tone sultry and full of admiration. “But I think it’s time for us to give you a taste of something truly unforgettable.”

Carlos looks at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You ready for that, mami? We’re going to take care of you.” His confidence radiates, and you feel that familiar flutter of excitement mixed with nervous anticipation.

“W-What do you mean?” you ask, your breath still shaky from the pleasure they’ve already given you.

“We want to show you just how good it can be when you let go completely,” Charles explains, moving closer, his body brushing against yours, making you acutely aware of every part of him. “You’re going to feel incredible, I promise.”

“You can handle us,” Carlos says, and your heart races. 

“Okay,” you reply softly, feeling a surge of warmth at their reassurance. 

“Good girl,” Charles praises again, his voice rich with affection. You hear the sound of movement, and you can only guess at what they’re doing. Then, you feel the bed shift as both of them position themselves closer to you.

“Now, let’s have some fun,” Carlos murmurs. You feel his warm hands on your thighs, gently pushing them apart, and your pulse quickens as anticipation builds.

“Are you ready for us, baby?” Charles asks, his voice husky and low. You nod, your breath catching in your throat as you feel the heat radiating from both of them.

“Remember, you can say the safe word at any time,” Carlos reminds you. “Just relax and let us take control.”

“Okay,” you whisper, feeling both excitement and a hint of nerves. “I’m ready.”

You feel one of them—Charles, you think—kissing along your thighs, slowly moving closer to your center, while Carlos positions himself at your ass. You can feel the heat from his body, the weight of him above you, and it makes your heart race even faster.

“Don’t worry, mami,” Carlos says, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. “I’ve got you.” You can taste the sweetness of his breath, and it ignites something primal within you.

As Charles starts kissing your folds, you gasp, the sensation sending ripples of pleasure coursing through your body. “So responsive,” he praises, his voice muffled against you. “I can feel how much you want this.”

You arch your back instinctively, craving more of the delicious sensation. “Charles!” you moan, the name slipping from your lips as he devours you, his tongue flicking expertly over your sensitive clit.

“More, baby?” he asks, teasingly slow. You can hear the smile in his voice, the confidence that makes you feel safe.

“Yes. Please!” you gasp, urging him on.

Just then, you feel Carlos’s mouth on yours, his kiss deepening as he leans in closer. Charles, the pressure inside you builds again, and you feel your body responding instinctively. Carlos pulls away just enough to let you catch your breath. “I want you to look at me while we do this,” he says, his dark eyes locking onto yours, filled with a heat that makes your skin tingle.

You nod, focusing on him, even as you feel Charles continuing to work his magic below. The two of them are a perfect harmony of pleasure, each taking you higher as they share their attention. Then you feel it, the burning stretch as Carlos’s dick enters your ass. You can’t help but moan “Oh fuck!” at the sensation, feeling him fill you up so deeply in parts that never been touched before. The world outside fades away, leaving just the three of you, locked in a moment of raw ecstasy.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Carlos urges softly, watching you intently as he thrusts in and out of you slowly, his fingers griping your ass, as he works to increase the pace.

“Can you feel how good that is?” Charles asks, looking up at you, his dark eyes filled with mischief and desire. “I want to see you come again. Show me how much you want it.”

“Oh fuck! Too much!!” you cry, feeling another wave of pleasure crash over you. The combination of his movements, the way Carlos is fucking you, it all blends into a perfect storm of sensation that’s utterly overwhelming.

“Yeah, just like that, baby. I love those sounds,” he says, his voice sultry and encouraging, and you can hear the excitement in his tone.

“More, please,” you beg, your body writhing against the sheets as you surrender to the pleasure.

Charles moves to lay in front of you, his hands moving your leg to lay over his waist as you feel his dick enter your pussy. Not expecting that, you yelp. “Charles!” The initial thrusts are slow, giving you a moment to adjust, but the sensation is still overwhelming. You feel every inch of them as they slide in and out of you, each movement perfectly synchronized. It’s too much, too intense, and yet you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips.

As their pace quickens, your body gives in to the pleasure, the overwhelming fullness pushing you toward another climax. You try to hold on, but the sensation is too much. “Oh fuck,” you gasp, your voice barely holding together as they both pound into you. “It’s too much… I can’t…”

 “You’re such a good girl for us,” Carlos praises, his pace relentless as he pounds your ass.

“Come for us, mami,” Carlos urges, his voice deep and throaty. “We want to feel you around our cocks.”

You can’t hold back any longer; the sensations are too intense, too beautiful to resist. “Oh, oh fuck” you cry, your body arching as pleasure overwhelms you, a wave crashing over you that leaves you gasping for breath.

They don't stop, their pace quickens, thrusting in and out of you even faster, fucking you through your orgasm, driving you further into ecstasy. “That’s it, baby. So beautiful,” he praises, his voice filled with desire. 

As you ride the waves of your release, you feel Carlos leaning in, kissing you softly, his lips warm and inviting. “You’re so perfect,” he murmurs against your mouth, and you can feel the heat of his body against yours, adding to the delicious tension.

“Can you handle more?” Charles asks, a wicked smile on his lips as he watches you with dark, hungry eyes.

You nod, feeling that familiar heat igniting again. “Yes, I want more,” you breathe, craving both of them in ways you never knew possible.

“Alright, let’s give you what you want,” Carlos grins, moving to position himself behind you while Charles remains at your front, his dick still buried inside you.

You can feel Carlos adjusting himself behind you, the anticipation making your heart race. “Are you ready, mami?” he asks, his voice a deep growl that sends shivers down your spine.

Yes,” you whisper, your body aching for their touch.

“Good,” he replies, and then you feel him moving closer, pressing against you, the weight of him enveloping you. “Just relax for me, okay? We’ll take care of you.”

With that, he gently slides into you against Charles's cock, filling and stretching you in a way that you've never experienced before, sending a jolt of pleasure and pain through your body. “Oh my God!” you scream, the sensation overwhelming as both of them stretch you beyond your limits. 

“Just breathe, mami,” Carlos whispers, his voice soothing yet filled with desire. “We’re going to make you feel so good.”

Charles leans in, capturing your lips with his, the kiss deepening as you feel Carlos thrusting behind you, his movements slow and deliberate, each thrust pushing you further into bliss.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Charles praises, his voice low and sultry against your lips. “Just let go and feel everything.”

You’re too full, your body overstimulated, your mind unable to process the sheer intensity of both of them stretching you. Pounding into you at the same time, the feeling is indescribable, leaving you on the edge of tears as your body adjusts to the fullness. Every inch of you feels like it’s on fire, and yet, you crave more.

You nod, surrendering to the sensations as they both take you higher, your body responding instinctively to their every touch. Carlos grunts, quickening his pace behind you while Charles continues his relentless pace too as he kisses you deeply, every brush of his lips igniting sparks within you. 

With each thrust, you can feel the pressure building again, your body teetering on the edge. “I’m so close!” you cry. As their pace quickens, your body gives in to the pleasure, the overwhelming fullness pushing you toward another climax, the sensation is too much. The pressure builds again, stronger this time as their movements become more urgent. Both of them drilling in and out of you leaving you in a blissful fucked state. 

“Come for us, baby,” Charles urges, his voice a low whisper filled with desire. “We want to see you fall apart.”

With a final thrust from them both, the wave crashes over you, and you scream out in ecstasy, your body shaking as pleasure washes over you completely.

“That’s it, mami! So sexy, fuck!” Carlos praises, thrusting into you as you ride out your orgasm, the world fading into a haze of bliss.

Charles looks at you with that wicked smile. “You’re incredible,” he whispers, and you feel your heart swell with warmth and desire.

As you come down from your high, you realize that you’ve never felt more alive than in this moment with them.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As the aftershocks of your intense release begin to fade, you nestle comfortably between Charles and Carlos, feeling a comforting warmth envelop you. The dim lighting of the hotel room casts a soft glow, highlighting the contours of their bodies as they lean in close, their breaths mingling in the sultry air.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Charles asks, his voice low and filled with genuine concern. He studies your face, searching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. There’s something tender in his gaze, making your heart flutter unexpectedly.

You nod, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. “I’m more than okay,” you reply, a smile breaking across your face. “That was... amazing.”

Carlos chuckles, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “We aim to please, mami.” He shifts slightly, pulling you closer to him, and you can’t help but revel in the sensation of being sandwiched between two incredibly attractive men.

As Charles gets up to get the warm cloth, Carlos remains beside you, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your thigh. “You’re still shaking still,” he observes, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Honestly, I’ve never felt anything like that before,” you admit, your cheeks flushing at the memory of the pleasure you just experienced. “It was overwhelming.”

Carlos nods, his expression softening. “That’s completely normal, mami. Just take your time. You did an amazing job.” His voice is warm and reassuring, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

Charles returns with the cloth, a bottle of water, and some snacks, pouring a glass for each of you. “You were perfect, baby,” he says, laying back down next to you, a satisfied smile on his face.

You snuggle between them, your heart swelling with gratitude and affection as their presence envelops you.

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[drabblesandsnippets]

Confidence, Part 1

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 2

Pairing: Sex Worker!Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Prompt: “What should I call you?” | [Master | Alpha | Pet] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (7k) AU Bucky is a full-service sex worker who enjoys helping women become more confident in their sexuality.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Mention of an ex-boyfriend. Mention of insecurities/body image. Pet names (sweetheart, baby). Lots of asking for consent. Teasing. Dirty talk. Praise. Issues climaxing. Oral & fingering (f receiving).

---------------------------

The end of a long-term relationship had led her here. Years of unhappiness. Years of feeling unsatisfied by her ex. Years of wishing things would change. 

After she finally found the courage to end things, the breath of relief she thought would come never did. Instead, she was left feeling lost, insecure, and unsure about what she wanted or who she even was.

That’s when a friend referred her to Bucky. 

A full-service sex worker who came highly recommended. A man who believes that there’s something inherently beautiful about everyone.

“I’ve worked with all types of women,” he assured her, “and I’ve found every single one of them attractive.”

It sounded like a line, but all the evidence pointed to the contrary. 

Bucky’s not just doing this to make money. He truly enjoys what he does. The physical part of it, sure - he wouldn’t be doing it if he didn’t - but, it’s the emotional aspect that keeps bringing him back.

There’s nothing like the rush he gets from watching a woman find her confidence and blossom under his guidance. That moment when they finally feel comfortable enough to let go of their inhibitions and learn to trust themselves.

It’s a heady feeling, knowing he’s changing their lives forever, and it’s not something he takes lightly.

Over the last few weeks of emails, texts, and phone calls, she found it easy to talk to Bucky about what she wanted out of this experience. Sex is supposed to be fun, and she wants to be able to enjoy herself without worrying about how she looks or if she’s doing the wrong thing.

Even during the more personal topics, like when they discussed what her sex life was like with her ex, Bucky never made her feel ashamed or judged. Her lack of experience and seemingly lack of enthusiasm for certain acts, due to her ex, didn’t make him blink an eye.

If anything, it made Bucky more intrigued to work with her. She was a puzzle he was going to enjoy help figuring out.

Despite his intimidating appearance - his well-defined muscles and the abundance of tattoos, his entire left arm covered in intricate designs - his charismatic personality keeps her relaxed.

His easy-going nature helps her open up as they sit on the couch in the beautifully decorated hotel room, giving her the courage to blurt out a question, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks when she does.

“What should I call you?”

During their last conversation, Bucky had asked her something similar, curious if she would enjoy being called something other than her name. She settled on a few things, but they never discussed what - if anything - she should call him.

With a tilt of his head, and a warm smile, he tells her, “You can call me whatever you’d like.” 

The hand that’s been resting on the back of the couch finally moves closer to her, his fingers just inches from her shoulder, making her breath hitch.

“Try not to overthink it,” he continues, his hand drifting closer as his smile turns playful. “Let the throes of passion guide you. I’m good with anything, really. ‘Bucky’. ‘Baby’. ‘Sir’. ‘Daddy’, if that’s your kink.”

She immediately laughs, the pink on her cheeks darkening as she shakes her head at him. She’s just starting to figure out what she might like with a partner, she’s not ready to even consider the last two options. 

Bucky’s grin grows and he nods his head in understanding, happy to see that his teasing tone is helping to relax her a bit more. It encourages him to shift a bit closer, his knee just barely brushing against her thigh. 

Their layers of clothing do nothing to dampen the rush of arousal she suddenly feels, and she waits with baited breath as his hand hovers over her shoulder, his fingertips almost close enough to touch her shirt.

“Can I touch you?”

It’s such a simple question, but it’s in this moment that she finally understands the phrase ‘consent is sexy.’

There’s something so incredibly intimate and arousing about Bucky asking for permission, despite the obvious reason he’s here. 

He accepts the slight nod of her head and the soft whisper of ‘yes’ for now. Eventually, he’ll help her find her voice and figure out how to ask for what she wants.

Until then, he needs to find a balance between her obvious desire for more and showing her that it’s okay to go slow.

She deserves to have someone take their time with her, to learn her body, to help her figure out what brings her pleasure. 

She knows what she likes when she’s by herself - that’s never been the problem - it’s allowing herself to be vulnerable with someone that’s the issue. She’s always struggled with being able to fully enjoy the moment, and she’s trusting Bucky to help her learn how to do that.

Goosebumps spread across her skin at the first brush of his thumb along the soft curve where her shoulder meets her neck. A soft exhale and a flutter of her eyelashes tells him all he needs to know, but he still asks, his voice a low murmur.

“Is this okay?”

She’s quick with her answer. A slight nod before she tilts her head, wanting him to keep going. He’s more than happy to, his eyes roaming along her body as he caresses her neck, taking in all the subtle ways her body responds to her touch.

“Does that feel good?”

It shouldn’t make her laugh, but it does. Bucky doesn’t take offense though, just watches her with a grin on his face, his hand never leaving her. 

“Why does it turn me on when you ask questions like that?” She’s surprised she manages to get the words out, but any nerves that threaten to consume her are immediately alleviated when Bucky’s smile grows.

She can practically feel how proud he is of her for asking.

He was already excited about working with her, but this just solidifies it. He can’t wait to watch her come out of her shell even more. 

As his thumb dips down to trace over her collarbone, he tells her, “I think it’s because it shows you that I care about what you want. That your pleasure is important to me.”

After an audible swallow, and a steadying breath, she admits, “I think I just also like hearing your voice.”

Her confession makes Bucky laugh, the smile reaching his eyes, and he nods his head, “Good to know.” He shifts just a bit closer on the couch, his leg resting against hers, his thumb slowly following a path up to her chin. “Does that mean you wanna try some dirty talk?”

She immediately blushes again, but with his thumb caressing the curve of her throat, she’s forced to keep her head held high. 

It manages to give her a boost of confidence, and she lets out a soft laugh, confessing, “Oh god, I’d be terrible at it.”

Bucky chuckles along with her but shakes his head. “Oh don’t worry, you wouldn’t have to say a thing.” His thumb brushes over her chin, almost close enough to touch her lip. “I’d enjoy just watching your reactions.”

He always seems to know just what to say to ease her worries before they can even start. The moment his eyes glance at her mouth, her lips part, and she leans in, just a fraction of an itch. 

The smile on Bucky’s face brightens, and he shifts again, mirroring her movements, but he’s not going to kiss her just yet, wanting the anticipation to build a little more. Instead, he repeats his question, softly asking her, “Do you want me to talk dirty to you?”

The slight shudder that rolls through her would make her feel embarrassed if it wasn’t for the hungry look he’s giving her. Her reactions are turning him on, and it helps her find her voice again.

“Yes.” 

With a tender touch, Bucky tucks her hair behind her ear, and all her senses are suddenly flooded by him - the smell of him, the heat of him, the sound of his voice whispering in her ear.

“Do you want me to praise you?” The question catches her off guard, but she’s suddenly aware of the way her nipples tighten, especially when he asks, “Can I tell you how good you’re doing?”

She wants his attention. She wants to be comfortable with someone complimenting her and praising her. So, with a slow nod of her head, she whispers another soft, “yes.”

But, Bucky hears the difference this time. The word just a bit louder, a bit more confident. She’s trying her hardest to allow herself to face her fears, and he wants her to know that he sees her. That he’s proud of how far she’s already come.

After getting her permission to touch more of her, he takes her hand in his, stroking his thumb across her palm, listening to the change in her breath. Without ever pulling away, he keeps talking, his mouth almost close enough to touch her ear.

“You’re doing so good for me.” 

The praise makes warmth pool in her belly and the softest noise of pleasure escapes her. 

“Oh,” he murmurs, his touch sliding higher, the pad of his thumb tracing the inside of her wrist. “I like that sound.”

She feels like she’s dreaming. Bucky’s barely started touching her, and she can already feel the wetness between her thighs, the ache for more.

“Let’s see what other kind of noises you can make for me,” he says, his soft beard brushing against her jaw. With one hand stroking up her forearm, his other hand slides into her hair to support her head, giving him better access.

She’s sure her heart is beating loud enough for him to hear, but she makes no move to pull away, not wanting to give him any reason to stop. Her head is flooded with thoughts of what he’s going to do, how he’s going to touch her, but he still takes her by surprise.

Just the softest brush of Bucky’s lips against her cheek before he’s asking, “is this okay?” and she’s a mess. 

She doesn’t even recognize the sound that comes out of her, and without thinking, she reaches for him, her fingers trailing over the front of his shirt.

Bucky rewards her confidence with another soft kiss along her jaw, and she suddenly decides to jump in with both feet, asking him, “Will you kiss me?” 

The question’s been building all evening, trying to work its way out of her, and his reaction to it makes her wonder why she was hesitant to start with.

“Absolutely.” The way he says it, like he’s just been waiting for her, makes her laugh softly, and he grins as he pulls back just enough to meet her gaze. “I would love to kiss you.” 

And the way he kisses her makes her believe him. His mouth soon coaxing hers open, his tongue seeking permission to deepen the kiss, a soft groan rumbling deep in his chest in response to the taste of her. 

It’s all so new and exciting, but somehow Bucky’s able to make it feel familiar and comfortable. And for the first time in what feels like forever, she’s not in her head about what’s happening or what she’s supposed to be doing. 

She’s just living in the moment, making out with an incredibly hot guy, welcoming his weight on top of her. 

If there was ever any doubt that he was enjoying himself, it’s erased when he settles between her thighs, letting her feel how turned on he is.

The moan she makes in return just makes him harder, and he leans up, meeting her gaze, a soft smile on his lips. As much as Bucky's enjoying kissing her, he wants to hear her, watch her as the pleasure takes over. 

She’s not sure who moves first, but with a slight tilt of her hips, the hard length of him is suddenly pressed right against her clit, eliciting a soft gasp from her. 

It shouldn’t feel as good as it does, the two of them still completely dressed, but the moment he starts to move against her, her back is already arching, her body seeking out more.

Bucky doesn’t take his eyes off of her, watching her closely. She doesn’t even realize it, but she’s the one setting the pace here. He’s just following her lead, matching her movements with his own, wanting her to show him what feels good to her.

When he can see the attention he’s giving her is starting to overwhelm her, he closes the distance, placing soft kisses along her jaw, giving her time to relax all over again. 

With a soft moan right against her ear, he tells her, “You feel so good like this.” His fingers tighten in her hair at her reaction, her tense thighs and lift of her hips causing his cock to throb between them. “Can you feel how hard I am for you?”

“Oh god,” she breathes, grinding harder against him, his words sending a burst of pleasure straight to her clit. With her hands pressed against his back, fisting his shirt, she quickly nods her head, whispering, “Yes. Please.”

That’s the word he’s been waiting for. 

Please. 

Bucky’s free hand travels down to her thigh, guiding her to lift her leg just a bit higher. The new position makes her gasp and he groans against her neck, asking her, “Please, what?” 

Her body shudders as he starts moving again, the increased pressure between her thighs making her breath catch. She doesn’t even know what she’s asking for. She just holds onto him, her hips moving a bit faster, the pleasure building inside of her.

Bucky still wants an answer, but he doesn’t pressure her for one. He follows her lead, listening to her gasps and moans get louder with each thrust of his hips against hers. He’s pretty sure this might be enough to make her come.

The same thought is running through her head, but it’s not long before the moment starts to catch up with her. 

The way she’s starting to sweat underneath her clothes, the way her heavy breathing has caused her throat to go dry, the way her foot keeps slipping off the edge of the couch as she tries to find purchase.

This time it doesn’t surprise her when his voice interrupts her thoughts, asking her, “Can you tell me what you need?” All he wants is for her to be comfortable, and if she’s not feeling this anymore, he’s more than happy to find something that works for her.

She knows what she needs. The only problem is that it’s the one thing that’s been giving her the most anxiety about this night. 

Being naked with him. Being vulnerable. Having to trust him to prove to her that she deserves to have someone bring her pleasure.

Bucky is more than up for the challenge though. His entire goal for the night is to show her how good it can be to have someone take care of her. To show her how much pleasure someone can bring her, if she just allows herself to connect with them.

Soon, he’s leading them to stand at the foot of the bed, taking his time to get her to relax against him, drawing her into a kiss that leaves them both breathless. 

And with just a bit of encouragement, she’s makes the first move, slowly lifting his shirt over his head. While her hands start exploring his newly exposed skin, tracing the lines of the tattoos that cover his shoulder and left arm, he pulls her into another kiss, groaning against her mouth. 

She doesn’t know what’s come over her. She’s never felt this confident before, refusing to overthink how she’s touching him, letting her desire for him guide her. It’s opening her up to so many possibilities, the memory of their conversations about boundaries and kinks suddenly flashing through her mind.

As she encourages him to help her out of her shirt, she softly asks him, “What if I change my mind about something we’ve already discussed?”

It’s clear to Bucky that she’s not asking about things she’s already said she wants, and he takes a moment to consider her question, appreciating the way her nipples strain against her bra.

It’s not lost on him that she makes no move to try to cover up or hide herself from him.

After he gives her another kiss, he meets her gaze, watching her as his finger traces along her bra strap, the back of his fingers brushing across the swell of her breast. 

He smiles when her lips part, her breath quickening, and he whispers, “Then you tell me. Tonight’s about learning to ask for what you want.”

She nods her head slowly, but her voice leaves her for a moment. Her entire focus is on his touch, his fingers teasing along the edge of her bra, the occasional brush of his skin against hers making her dizzy with need. She’s not sure she’s ever been this turned on before, especially not during foreplay.

“What is it you think you might want?” 

Bucky remembers everything she said no to - everything she knew she wouldn’t like, or didn’t want to try - and he can’t ignore the rush of excitement at the thought that he’s made her comfortable enough to try something she wasn’t sure about before.

It’s not until she’s helped him out of his jeans, leaving him in just his boxer briefs, that she finally figures out how to voice her desires. It helps that he chooses the same moment to kneel in front of her to undo her jeans, the soft brush of his fingers against her stomach bringing her nothing but pleasure.

“I did what you suggested,” she begins, her hand resting on his shoulder as he starts to lower her jeans, his eyes briefly looking up at her, a pleased smirk on his face as he reveals the matching panties to her bra. “The other night,” she whispers, watching as he slowly undresses her, helping her step out of her jeans. “I tasted myself.”

Bucky doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it’s not that. 

His hands immediately reach up to hold her hips, his thumbs dipping underneath the waistband of her panties as he lets out a soft groan. The image of her alone in her own bed, touching herself, tasting herself for the first time has him silently praying that this is going where he thinks it is.

He somehow manages to keep his composure and looks up at her, his eyes dark with desire, but his voice steady. “What did you think?”

She’s the one that brought this up, but her skin still grows warm and a soft laugh comes out of her. She’s trying so hard not to overthink all of this - to not let her insecurities start to overwhelm her.

Bucky helps her through this moment, like he’s done all evening. Still kneeling in front of her, he slides his hands down her thick thighs and gently asks, “Do you like the way you taste?” 

Her first reaction is to give him a slight shrug, her eyes looking past him. But he quickly gets her attention, finding a sensitive spot along the back of her thigh, the graze of his fingers causing her breath to shudder out of her. 

It has the desired effect, and she nods her head, whispering, “Yes.”

Bucky continues watching her as he caresses the back of her thighs, marveling at the way it causes obvious pleasure to ripple through her, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Do you think I’d like the way you taste?”

There’s no doubt in his mind that he will, but this isn’t really about him. Bucky needs her to get there on her own, to believe that someone wants all of her. 

She wants to shrug again. To brush off his question and keep her eyes closed, pretending that he’s not watching her right now. But, she can’t. That’s not why she’s here. That’s not why Bucky is here. 

After she forces herself to take a slow, deep breath, she finally opens her eyes and looks down at him. The confidence she wishes for isn’t there yet, but she’s able to answer him honestly. 

A soft whisper of, “I’m not sure.” And then, a barely audible utterance of, “Maybe.”

Without hesitation, his hands slide up the outside of her thighs, returning to her hips, his fingers tracing along the edge of her panties. “Do you want me to taste you?” 

She forgets how to breathe, air getting trapped in her lungs as she tries not to look away. She just needs to ask for what she wants. It should be easy by now. She’s already standing in front of him in just her bra and underwear, letting him see the bits of her that she’s uncomfortable with.

But, for a moment, the words still don’t come. Her hands remain on his shoulders, her nails lightly scratching along his tattooed skin as she tries to refocus. This time, Bucky remains quiet. He just continues to look up at her, giving her as much time as she needs to show him she’s ready for this.

This is something her ex never volunteered to do, and she was always too shy to ask, but she doesn’t want to be shy anymore. 

She wants to own her sexuality. She wants to be able to ask for what she wants in her next relationship, even new things she might not even know she wants yet.

With a slight nod of her head, and another trembling breath, she tells him, “Yes. I want… I want that.” 

Bucky doesn’t move yet. The look he gives her conveys how proud he is of her, but he wants to hear her say the actual words. Instead of just expecting her to know what to say, he asks her, “What do you want, sweetheart?”

She swallows the nervous laughter that threatens to spill out and takes a moment to close her eyes, trying to compose herself. How can such a simple term of endearment cause her so much pleasure? 

That’s not what she says though. When her mouth opens, the words come before she can overthink them. “I want you to taste me.”

“Oh, good girl.” Bucky’s growl of praise almost has her collapsing into a puddle, but his hands on her hips keep her steady. Not wanting to lose the momentum she’s building, he slides his hands up her back to her bra, asking her, “Can I take this off?”

She’s already made it this far, the intensity of her insecurities starting to lessen each time she reveals more of herself to him. With a nod of her head, she gives him permission, unable to look away as he slowly unhooks her bra, his fingers immediately rubbing along the indentations left behind.

The soft moan of relief she makes has him grinning up at her, and he slowly slides the straps down her arms, giving her a moment to adjust to this new level of vulnerability.

With his gaze still on her face, he tosses her bra aside to join the rest of their clothes and softly asks her, “Can I touch you?”

“Yes, please.” The words come easily this time, despite her nerves trying to get the better of her. She’s insecure about her breasts, gravity having caught up to her before she thought it would, and she finds herself wanting his approval.

In reality, it doesn’t matter what he thinks of her body, but he’s more than happy to help her see what he sees.

Matching his pace of the entire evening, his fingers brush along the sides of her breasts, the feather-light touch causing her nipples to pebble.

“You’re gorgeous,” he tells her, unable to tear his gaze away from the way her body immediately arches towards his touch.

Bucky’s given her no reason to doubt his words, and the moment he cups her breast in his hand, her fingers slide into his hair as if to guide him closer.

He doesn’t make her ask for it this time, and she barely registers his breath on her skin before his tongue flicks out to lick her nipple.

The sound she makes causes his cock to twitch and he wastes no time trying to bring more of those noises out of her.

With his heavily-tattooed arm wrapped around her to support her, he immediately closes his lips around the erect bud, his free hand moving to her other nipple. 

It’s like he’s on a mission to see just how loud he can make her get before she demands more from him.

It doesn’t take long, her body trembling against him, both her hands in his hair, tugging at the strands.

“Bucky,” she moans, meeting his gaze as he switches sides, his fingers now playing with her saliva-slick nipple. 

All he does is grin at her in return, the gentle scrape of his teeth giving her the last push she needs. He can practically see the last of her walls starting to crumble, and as he sucks her nipple into his mouth, she manages to surprise him yet again.

“Please,” she pleads, unable to hide how breathless he’s already made her. “I want you to taste me.”

“Oh fuck,” Bucky groans against her breast. He immediately pulls back and slides his hand up to wrap his fingers around her throat, his tender touch adding to her pleasure. “Is that what you need, baby? You want me to lick your pussy?”

All it takes is a quick confirmation from her and he’s guiding her onto the bed, more than ready to show her what she’s been missing out on. 

Within just a few moments, he has her naked and writhing underneath him, his mouth starting at her neck, taking his time to kiss down her soft curves.

By the time he’s placing kisses along her inner thighs, she’s forgotten about all the reasons why she almost didn’t ask for this. All thoughts about her ex-boyfriend are gone, as are her insecurities, and she runs her fingers through his hair, whining softly, “Please.”

Bucky will never tire of hearing that word. And with one last glance up at her, he helps her push her thighs back a bit more, giving him the perfect view of her pussy. 

“Mmm.” The groan that leaves him makes her pulse, her hips shifting underneath his hold, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “Eager, are we?” he teases, taking a moment to give her thigh another soft kiss, his beard tickling her pussy.

The question should make her blush - and any other time it would - but Bucky’s good at what he does. He’s somehow made her comfortable enough that not only does she not blush, she actually laughs. With a grin on her face, she quickly nods her head and tells him, “Yes. I am.”

Bucky’s so proud of her. She’s already come so far, and he quickly praises her with a soft rumble of, “Good girl.” 

And then he’s rewarding her, the slow swipe of his tongue along her slit immediately reducing her to a low whine of, “Oh my god.” He repeats the action, licking her from her dripping entrance up to her clit, teasing the bud with just the tip of his tongue.

“Oh my god.” She’s not sure she knows how to say anything else right now. She’s barely breathing at this point anyway, her entire body tense with anticipation.

And then he has the nerve to pull away, giving her another grin to tell her, “You were right.” 

She blinks, her hands fisting the sheets, her legs already shaking. All she can think about is having his mouth back on her pussy. She has no clue what he’s talking about.

“You taste so fucking good.”

Oh.

She’s not sure she even says anything, but it doesn’t matter because he dips his head back down and gets back to work, tasting her again.

Bucky alternates between long, slow licks and sliding his tongue deep inside of her, wiggling the muscle along her walls. He’s paying attention to all the ways she reacts to what he’s doing, repeating every action that makes her moan or shudder.

She gets lost in the moment, unsure of what to do with her hands, one gripping the sheets while the other holds her ankle, keeping herself spread for him. 

She can feel her pleasure building, but the longer he’s between her thighs, the more her insecurities start to resurface. Maybe this isn’t going to happen. No one’s been able to make her come before.

She’s always been responsible for her own orgasm, and while Bucky seems confident in his abilities, her doubt is starting to creep back up. 

When he returns his attention back to her clit, Bucky dragging the flat of his tongue over the bundle of nerves, she whispers his name. She feels compelled to apologize, like she’s wasting his time, but the only thing she can get out is, “I can’t.”

He pauses, but doesn’t pull his hands away, his fingers slick with her arousal as he looks up at her. Recognizing the confusion and embarrassment on her face, he realizes one crucial mistake he’s made. 

Bucky indulges himself with one more lick before he sets her at ease, explaining, “I’m not trying to make you come yet, baby. I just wanted to taste you, see what you like first.” His thumb teases over her clit as he kisses the soft skin of her inner thigh and asks her, “Is that okay?”

Just like that, he manages to get her back into the right headspace.

After a slow nod of her head, he’s bringing her pleasure again, exploring every inch of her pussy. He's enjoying taking his time, finding all the ways she likes to be touched, learning her body so he can give her what she needs. 

He’s also teasing her. Using his knowledge to make her more desperate. He hopes to get her to the point where she can ask for everything she wants without having to get this overwhelmed.

After his mouth moves away from her clit to lick across her entrance, he hears the change in her breathing. His quick glance shows him that her hands have moved to her tits, her fingers tugging at her nipples, and it tells him everything he needs to know.

Bucky returns his tongue to her clit, slowly circling the swollen bud before closing his lips around it, the soft suction causing her back to arch and she quickly nods her head, whispering, “oh god, please.”

But he pulls away again, her soft gasping whine proving he’s on the right track. She’s almost there. Just another quick tease of his tongue sliding inside of her, then back to suckling on her clit. That’s all it takes.

Her hand comes down to his head, fingers gripping his hair, as she breathlessly begs him, “Yes. Please. Just like that.”

This time, Bucky doesn’t move or pull away. He groans against her, unable to stop his hips from grinding against the mattress, her words sending pleasure straight to his cock. 

With each flick of his tongue, her noises get louder, the coil in her belly growing tighter.

She might actually come from this. Bucky might actually be able to make her come. 

That’s all she can think about. 

One hand in his hair, the other back to white-knuckling the sheet, using it for leverage to grind herself against his mouth. She can feel the pressure building, her muscles growing taut, her legs shaking uncontrollably. 

She’s going to come.

“Oh my god,” she whispers, seemingly unable to say anything else again. But Bucky still doesn’t change anything he’s doing, staying exactly where he is, his tongue never stopping. “Oh my god,” she repeats, nodding her head, desperate for this to happen.

It’s her downfall.

Just when she thinks it’s finally going to happen for her, the feeling suddenly starts to fade. The whine that leaves her, coupled with the frustrated, “No” has her quickly covering her flushed face.

The last thing Bucky wants is for her to think she’s done anything wrong. Or, even worse, that there’s something wrong with her. Because, there isn’t.

“Shhh,” he soothes her, peppering kisses along her thighs. His thumb returns to her clit, Bucky wanting to keep her pleasure building towards that peak again, and he tells her, “It’s okay. Sometimes we can get in our head. And sometimes... it’s just because we need more.”

She’s able to lower her hands away from her face to look down at him. It’s obvious he’s still enjoying himself, and all he wants is for her to be right there with him. It still takes her a moment of slow breathing for her to finally nod her head at him.

“Can you tell me what you think you need right now?” His slick thumb glides over her clit again before dipping down between her folds, teasing across her entrance. 

Her body immediately responds, her hips seeking out more, wanting him inside of her. 

Bucky tilts his head and raises an eyebrow at her, the smile on his face growing. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.” 

It does the trick. With another shift of her hips, and more teasing pressure from his thumb, she nods her head. She doesn’t know how, but the words spill out of her without a second thought. “Fuck me, please.”

It takes every once of his control not to immediately let his thumb sink inside of her. She’s so wet, just begging to be filled, but it’s the perfect time to get her to verbalize her needs.

Bucky sits up on his knees just a bit, circling his thumb against her entrance before sliding it back up to her clit. He interrupts her needy whine with, “How do you want me to fuck you?”

She knows what he’s doing. And she’s incredibly grateful for it. Between quick and shallow breaths, she tells him, “With your fingers. Please.”

He tests her resolve, watching her closely as he starts to rub his thumb against her again, almost pushing inside of her. She immediately shakes her head and he pauses, a grin lighting up his face.

Bucky doesn’t even have to ask, she’s more than willing to tell him exactly what she wants. Her words coming quickly. “Please. Fuck me with your fingers. Two of them.”

His growl of praise immediately floods her brain, causing pleasure to radiate from her core. “Oh good girl,” he tells her, more than ready to give her what she wants,  “I’m so proud of you.” 

The cry that comes out of her as he fills her is unlike anything she’s ever made before. Her back arches and she reaches for him, grabbing his tattooed hand as his two thick fingers immediately find the spot that always seemed to allude others.

Bucky has every intention of tasting her again, planning to make her come with his mouth on her clit while he fucks her with his fingers.

He just wants to take a moment to watch her, enjoying the way the curl of his fingers causes her to gasp. His own body throbbing with pleasure as he strokes along her front wall, drawing more noises from her.

“You are so fucking hot,” he moans, interlocking their fingers as his gaze travels along her body from her thighs to her face, his cock leaking pre-cum at the sight of her.

When she’s able to accept his compliment without looking away, he increases the pressure, listening to the sounds of her wetness fill the air. 

She’s finally at that point that he promised she’d get to. Where she feels nothing but pleasure, able to bask in the connection they’re sharing.

“I wanna come for you.” There’s nothing quiet about her request, even as she struggles to get the words out between her soft gasps and moans.

“You really are incredible,” he tells her, eagerly returning to his earlier position, his head between her thighs. 

With his fingers still deep inside of her, he presses his tattooed arm against her thigh and places his palm flat against her lower stomach, using his fingers to spread her, exposing her clit.

She welcomes his touch, not a care in the world about how exposed she feels or how his hand digs into her soft belly. In fact, she doesn’t care how she looks at all. All she cares about his how close his mouth is to her pussy again, the feel of his warm breath making her whisper, “Please.”

Bucky glances up at her, a serious look on his face, quieting her pleading for the moment. 

“There’s no rush here, do you understand?” He accepts the slight nod of her head before continuing, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “If I need a break, I’ll tell you. Until then,” his raises his eyebrows in excitement, “let’s just enjoy ourselves, yeah?”

She’s quick to agree, forcing herself to relax, resting her head against the pillow. She doesn’t even try to keep her eyes open anymore, the return of his tongue to her clit practically making her forget her name. 

With the pressure of his fingers inside of her, rubbing against her g-spot, there’s suddenly not a doubt in her mind that Bucky’s going to make her come.

It still rushes up on her quickly, her senses completely overloaded - the obscene noises his mouth makes against her clit, the slight scratch of his beard on her pussy, the smell of sex lingering in the air.

“I’m gonna come,” she gasps, one hand on her breast, the other on his head, gripping his hair. “Please don’t stop.”

He actually has the audacity to laugh against her, but he has no intentions of stopping. The rhythm of his tongue never changes, Bucky already knowing exactly how to lick her to get her there. 

She allows herself to be consumed by the pleasure he’s giving her, and the moment her hips start to move faster against him, her thighs threatening to close, the groan he makes causes her to fall over the edge.

Bucky keeps her held down, even as her body bucks against him, using his strength to keep his mouth on her clit and his fingers buried inside of her. 

She’s so tight, barely allowing fingers to move at all, but it doesn’t matter, he just keeps stroking her g-spot, prolonging her pleasure as long as she’ll let him. 

It feels like it lasts forever, her body riding out the waves until she’s left a wrecked, trembling mess, incoherent words escaping her lips.

Once Bucky’s sure she’s had as much as she can take, he quickly kisses up her body to pull her into his arms. She wraps herself around him, clinging to him, burying her face against him as he soothes her with soft words of praise.

“You did so good for me.”

“Such a good girl.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you for trusting me.”

As her body starts to relax, she welcomes his mouth on hers, moaning at the taste of her arousal on his lips. It makes her want more and it’s not long before her hips move underneath him, grinding herself against his covered erection.

Bucky rests his forehead against hers and lets out his own moan of pleasure, his neglected cock wanting nothing more than to fuck her and feel her come. He won’t do anything unless she asks for it though.

The look she’s giving him tells him she knows exactly what’s going through his mind. But, she doesn’t ask him to fuck her. Not yet.

First, she asks for something else - something she thought she wouldn’t want to do, her request catching Bucky off guard, causing his hips to thrust against her.

“Can I suck your cock?”

---------------------------

Next Part

Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[lucky-bucky-boy]

Changing Tides

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 6790

Summary: You and Bucky get paired together for undercover missions a lot because it works beautifully, despite the fact that you don't really even interact at home.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, limited use of Y/N, LOTS of pet names (pretty girl, baby, i think baby girl, my girl etc), praise kink, oral f. receiving, slight angst, reader is in denial for a good bit of this, angst if you squint, reader is a part of the team, this piece takes place in an AU where everyone lives together and everything is happy

A/N: Oh. My. God. I did NOT intend for this to be this long, at one point I thought I was going to have to make this a two-parter but I got it all in here. I really enjoyed writing this, please let me know what y'all think!! :)))

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

Hues of velvety violet and radiant amber mixed, painting the evening sky like a scene out of a museum. The scent of warm sea salt was still palpable in the air, the crystal like water of the wide-expanding ocean reflected the light of the setting sun. Dancing specs of light could be seen in the darker shades of the sky, stars bright and clear against the inky color.

The cold metal of the hotel balcony pressed against your exposed skin, shirt having risen up as you leaned over it slightly. The view was beyond breathtaking, something you would argue belonged on a movie screen. It was serene, offering a moment of reprieve from the typical chaos you endured in a day, and a distraction from the man currently sitting in the hotel room behind you.

Hate didn’t describe the emotions you felt for the brunet. On a daily basis, there was an underlying disinterest but every now and then a seething annoyance would bubble at the mere thought of the former soldier. You couldn’t pin-point why. Bucky himself had never done anything to wrong you after his rehabilitation and reintroduction into society, and you could easily say nothing the Winter Soldier had done counted towards your feelings.

The odd part of it all is the Bucky and you worked well together, great even. More often than not, you found yourself partnered with Bucky on just about every mission the two of you had; from quick in and out missions to undercover operations like the one you were on now. The communication was great, the two of you easily fell into a rhythm and could read each other’s body language like you’ve known each other your whole life. It was easy to slip into a faux-domesticity with him, which was a stark contrast to the daily life you lived.

The day to day with Bucky involved a lack of any form of contact. You’d avoid the gym if he was in it, would eat in silence if the two of you happened to be in the kitchen at the same time, eye-contact was consistently avoided - Really, the only time the two of you were seen together at home was during group training sessions and team-building nights. You were sure to never make it awkward for the rest of the team, never bad mouth or be outwardly annoyed at Bucky’s presence, you just really couldn’t care less if he was there or not. 

“Sweetheart,” his voice carried from the room, light and sweet, almost intoxicating with a feeling instantly having your gut turn and catch your skin aflame, “Did you want to go out for dinner tonight or just order room service?” His voice got nearer as he moved to join you on the balcony.The cool metal prosthetic wrapped around your waist as he stood next to you.

A soft hum left your lips, gaze moving from the horizon to the prosthetic then to Bucky’s face. He adorned a slight scruff, long hair pulled back into a low bun; His eyes nearly twinkled as they reflected the setting sky in the distance, he wore soft maroon button down and black chinos that truly made him look like a normal, well-off guy. Tony and Peter had finally managed to perfect the color needed to make Bucky prosthetic look like a normal arm which easily sealed the deal on assuring that there was nothing major that could be easily spotted to dox the two of you as agents. 

The flight to Morocco was long and the next 10 days were easily going to be even longer, the last thing you wanted to do was be anywhere but a soft bed. “Room service,” you replied, matching the tone he had asked the question with. You leaned your head against his shoulder, moving your gaze back to the ocean, “Did you do a room check and get our things set up?”

He nodded, “Everything inside is clear and put away,” he squeezed your side softly when he said inside, a subtle emphasis to communicate where it was safe to not be in character. “I’ll go order the room service, you can go shower and get comfortable. I know how much you hate the airport.” He chuckled softly at the end, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline before making his way back inside. 

You let out a soft sigh, making it inside as well and closing the balcony door behind you as you did. This really was going to be a long 10 days. 

**

The bitter taste of the wine nearly made your mouth water, sitting somewhere between too intense and the perfect thing to take the edge off. The first full day had been smooth, an easy itinerary of walking and exploring the city. From the outside, the two of you easily looked like a love sick couple; matching clothes, a large diamond in your hand, Bucky always opening the door for you and your soft smile that just couldn't seem to leave you face; but in reality you had been mapping the city, learning the back alley ways and locating any ports that may be needed for a quick exit. 

The small patio of the restaurant adorned a handful of tables, lanterns lighting the area in a soft romantic glow, lucious plants filling in any space, the open space allowed for ease of blending into the crowd while watching any passerby on the street. Bucky had taken up a game of footsie with you, chattering along about some of the shops you had passed along the way.

“Is there any shop you’d want to make your way back to?” Bucky took a sip of the wine in front of him, eyes fixed on you intently.

A soft hum left your lips, swaying your head back and forth softly as you thought. “Well, I wanna hit up the history and art museum, so maybe we could see if there’s any other cute shops there? If not, I’d definitely like to look at the jewelry store and bookstore we passed on the way here.”

“Mmm, I do think it’s time to get my pretty girl a new necklace,” the words fell off Bucky’s tongue like he sweet talked you on the daily. 

There was that feeling again, the uneasiness that laid in the pit of your stomach and your skin heated up. Maybe this was why you couldn’t stand Bucky outside of missions, maybe you just didn’t want to deal with this feeling constantly. “You spoil me enough, ya know,” you offered a soft giggle, “I can assure you I don’t need any more jewelry, my love.”

Bucky smirked softly, cocking his eyebrows up at you with a knowing look on his face, “You may not need it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do it anyways.”

You shook your head, about to offer a rebuttal as the waiter set your food down in front of you, all thoughts being lost to the amazing sights and smells. “This is easily my favorite part of our trips,” you stated, the distraction of food keeping you from noticing the way Bucky’s gaze stayed on you and a soft smile lingered.

**

Six days of being enveloped in Bucky’s presence, and thankfully it was getting easier by the moment. It had been a smooth operation so far, the information being easy to locate and gather without raising suspicions. As a result, Tony had said to take a day to relax, lay low and assure no one was able to realize there was something more to you two.

Bucky had made a home on the balcony of your hotel, a book in hand and a coffee sat on the little table next to him.He been there since the early morning and it was easily almost noon, not that that you were bothering to check the clock. A day off meant a day of sleep and eating, nothing much more than that. 

However, sleeping wasn't something your body wanted to do so you found yourself with a forgotten movie playing on the television, your gaze consistently going back to him. You weren't sure why, but you couldn't keep your eyes off him. You'd been sitting for the past God knows how long trying to figure out why you couldn't pull your eyes away from him. His hair was down, something he didn't do quite often, almost always finding it easier to have it pulled away from his face. From the angle he was sitting, you could see his light gray button down was still completely unbuttoned, his jean shorts a little too snug around his thighs. He occasionally sipped the coffee that was most likely cold at this point, turning the page of the thick novel occasionally. His lips would purse, eyebrows scrunch occasionally, or a small chuckle, or even a shake of his head as he reacted to the words on the page. 

The wind picked up some, indicating a small rain storm that was destined to his later in the evening was starting to make it's way in. Bucky pulled a hair tie from his pocket, tying his hair into his typical low bun before picking his book back up. And it finally hit you; Fuck he's pretty.

The thought immediately made your body heat up and the instant feeling of something in between shame and excitement sat low in your belly. It was like a well known secret your subconscious kept for years finally made it over the wall of denial in your brain, immediately making your thoughts run wild; Fuck he's so pretty, more than pretty actually. What if this is why we've been weird for some many years? Wait. Why would that make it weird? Wait. Why is it weird? Why do we get along so well on missions and then act so differently at home? Oh My God… Has the team been trying to set us up? 

Shaking your head, you jumped up, apparently too suddenly because Bucky broke his concentration on his book to glance over at you. You could feel he was watching you move around, the only thought in your head now was to get out for some fresh air as you deciphered the flood of thoughts. You grabbed some fresh clothes, slipping into the bathroom with a heavy sigh once the door was closed. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, attempting to ground yourself. Okay, what the hell is going on? The question kept repeating itself over and over in your head as you slipped into a summer dress, a sage flowy piece that Natasha and you bought for this trip specifically. It was cute, and Nat was right when she said it complimented your skin; definitely different than your normal attire but still comfortable. 

Walking out of the bathroom, you were relieved to find Bucky still where he was when you entered. After slipping on some sandals, you moved towards him, immediately aware of every detail of your very being. "Hey," you kept your voice soft, waiting for him to pull him eyes from the book and look up at you. There was something about how brightly his eyes shone with the golden sun beating down on him, there was a sense of both innocence and mystique, and the instant feeling of safety just from holding his gaze. "I'm heading out to get some coffee, do you want a fresh one? You've been sipping at the same cup for hours now."

Bucky glanced down at the cup, then to his watch, eyes going wide for a moment before a soft chuckle left his lips. "I've been out here for 4 hours already, shit. Yeah, I'd love a fresh one, doll. Thank you." He offered you a soft smile, "Just get me a-"

"A latte with three honeys on the side," you said matter-of-factly, "I could order for you at just about anywhere at this point." It was a teasing joke, one Bucky laughed at, but you instantly cursed yourself for even saying it. 

"We do spend quite a bit of time together," he hummed out, "Did you want to go out for dinner or get room service tonight?" He asked, picking his book back up as he prepared for your departure. 

"Let me see how I feel after I get back. But if we go out, it's your turn to pick. I picked last night." You stated before leaning down to kiss his hairline, still needing to keep up the act just in case someone was managing to spy; or at least that's what you were telling yourself. "I'll see you inna bit."

**

After returning with the coffee, still finding Bucky to be where he was when he left him, it was an instant decision to find a way to give yourself more time a way from the man that had your mind absolutely scrambled. Grabbing a book of your own, you let him know you'd be down by the pool if he needed you, using a quick excuse about wanting some change in scenery before the rain came as you left. 

You weren't entirely sure how long you'd been out there, it couldn't have been too long, but you we're aware you were reading the same page over and over again. The words seemed to mix together, jumbling about and not registering even in the slightest, your brain still attempting to make sense of what you were feeling. 

You never denied that Bucky was attractive, that's admittedly part of what made undercover missions easy. You never denied that you two got along well on missions, but you couldn't explain or pinpoint why you didn't get along at home. Sure, you were never hostile or rude, but it was exactly friendly or outgoing either. No matter how much you thought and walked through your early memories of Bucky, you couldn't make sense of anything. 

At this point, you knew pride was part of the issue. You knew the team would be able to walk you through, at the very least Nat or Pepper or maybe even Steve, but you could never admit to them what you were currently feeling or going through. The only thing you wanted to do, needed to do was to act normal until you got home. Then you could just hide away and go back to not having to interact with the man that was causing you turmoil. 

"There's my pretty girl," Bucky's drawl quickly pulled you out of your thoughts, causing you to jump at the sudden push back to reality. Seeing you jump caused Bucky to chuckle, especially as you turned to glare at him and his bright smile, "It's getting late, baby. We should go get some food." 

He moved to the lounge chair you had made home in, kneeling down next to you so he was eye-level. There was that feeling again, low in the pit of your stomach that had your skin warming. "There's apparently food trucks at a park about not too far. Why don't we head there and get some food to bring back and watch a movie?" 

Instinctively, you reach to tuck a strand of loose hair behind his ear, offering a soft nod and a smile, "That sounds perfect." 

You wanted nothing more than to kiss him, the thought immediately making your already warm skin heat up more, feeling flustered and like a school girl. It's not like you haven't kissed, it was just agreed upon that it was reserved for dire need situations. All other physical touchs; hand holding, forehead kissing, even smacking each others ass was okay to sell the facade that you were a happy couple.  

Bucky picked up on the change, a look of slight worry on his face, "You okay, doll?"

The laugh that left you was slightly anxious, holding the book in your hand up as a quick white lie, "Yeah, you just came down at a particularly… intense scene."

He immediately laughed, kissing your forehead as he stood up. "You're so cute. Let's get going though."

**

The bustling crowds offered a great distraction - Bucky stood proudly by your side, fingers interlocked together and swinging your joined hands softly like a love sick couple. The both of you scanned the crowd, trying to figure out where to go and what to get. 

The lines weren't too long, there were nearly a dozen trucks, and live music playing. The sun was finally setting, more clouds rolling in and bringing in a cooler breeze that allowed for a reprieve from the beach heat. There were benches with umbrellas set up, lantern lights adorning some posts and wires around the lot. It was cute, and if it wasn't for the mission you were still technically on, it would feel so wrong to be here with Bucky. 

After a moment of thought, you looked at Bucky, lips slightly pursed in thought, "I have an idea." You stated matter-of-factly.

He cooked an eyebrows at you, intrigued and slightly amused with your tone, "Let's hear it then."

"Let's get a platter or some random menu item from every truck then go back to the room and eat there." 

Bucky looked around and nodded, "Ya know what, doll, that sounds fantastic. Do you wanna divide and conquer or go one by one?"

It was then that you realized the clouds were darkening, and the rain was definitely going to happen sooner than later. "Let's divide and conquer before the rain comes." 

With a nod of agreement the two of you split, heading to either end of the trucks and working your way to each other. With the lines being shorter, it didn't take too long to get through them all, the both of you holding multiple bags stacked full of food and tied tightly. Quick words were exchanged before you started heading back towards the hotel, hoping to make it back before the rain.

The effort was fruitless though, with just maybe a few hundred feet left before the hotel you were staying at, the cold rain begins to pour down, the dark sky opening up and letting go every ounce of water it was holding on to. With loud gasps from the both of you, and small playful shriek even, you two took off running into the lobby, screeching yourselves to a stop as you entered and stood on the mats in front of the door. You were breathing heavily, attempting to catch your breath; a quick glance to Bucky showed you he was doing the same.

After a few moments, the two of you made eye contact, bursting into immediate laughter. You were both soaked head to toe, the only thing saved was the food. His shoes make a sloshing sound and your feet slid around in your sandals, you clothes clinging to every inch of your bodies. You were easily a sight for sore eyes, but it couldn't have been funnier. 

"Why didn't either of us think about the rain?" You managed to get out through your laughter. 

"Who knows, but let's get upstairs so we can get dry." He managed to respond.

The elevator ride up felt like an eternity, the cold of the AC feeling more intense from your wet skin. Bucky opened the door for you, letting you in first. He set the foot down, immediately kicking off his shoes. "Go shower, get warm. I'll pull out a change of clothes for you and we can swap when you're done." 

Something about the direction made you freeze momentarily, causing him to look up at you, "(Y/N), you're freezing. Go shower. I'm fine to wait." His voice was soft and caring and there was a part of you that wanted to tell him to shower with you. 

In the dim light of the room and the soaking wet clothes made him look even more divine, like he was sculpted from the gods themselves. You nodded, handing him the bags before making your way towards the bathroom. You closed the door, then quickly opening it to call out but he cut you off, "You want an oversized shirt and a loose pair of shorts, gets your ass in the shower." His tone was demanding but still playful. You caught the look in his eyes, mischievous, playful, and a hint of something you didn't want to recognize. 

You kept your shower quick, ready to be in comfortable clothes and a bed with good food. After quickly drying yourself as much as possible, you wrapped yourself in a towel, and stepped out into the bedroom. Bucky stood in only his boxers, his own clothes in one hand while he scrolled through the television with the other. It wasn't the first time you've seen him with this little clothing, but something about it now made your mouth dry and your skin heat up. 

"All yours," you said, grabbing his attention as you moved to the bed where he laid your clothes out for you. 

"Thanks, doll. I'll be quick. You can pick the movie," he tossed the remote onto the bed before disappearing into the bathroom himself. 

You stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm yourself before slipping into the clean clothes. Bucky had already made work of getting creative. He pulled the ironing board from the closet and set the food up next to the bed, had fluffed the pillows up into a sitting position, and already gotten drinks for the two of you. By the time you had decided on a movie, Bucky was coming out of the bathroom. 

Immediarely, you mind started short circuiting again. He looked soft. He had on a light blue shirt and a pair of light gray shorts, his hair was towel dried and brushed against his shoulders, a slight wave to the brown locks. He slid in bed next to you, getting himself situated and comfortable before handing over the massive spread of food for you to start digging into. 

After about 20 minutes of eating and watching the movie in a comfortable silence, Bucky turned the volume down some, "Can I ask you a question?" The tone of his voice alone already told you how he was feeling. There was a sense of worry, anxiety almost to him. 

"Of course, what's wrong?" You asked, sitting your food to the side so you could turn to look at him. 

Bucky followed your lead, moving the food he had off the bed as well before taking a drink, trying to have a moment to articulate how he was going to ask what he wanted. Even though Bucky was sure the room wasn't bugged, he knew that there's was never a 100% chance of assuring that. The fact alone could make talking about things outside of the mission difficult, and this one one of those moments.

"How's the trip been for you? I know we haven't been on one in a while and I just want to make sure everything's okay, that we're okay." He had turned fully to look at you now, the worry in his voice making it to his eyes. 

"Oh…" the response was immediate, and you regretted it instantly the second you so that worry on his face grow, "The trips been wonderful, and uh…" You sighed, toying with the blanket around you, "We're fine, yeah. I'm just… not here?" You said, sort of motioning to your head to get the point across.

Bucky cocked his head some, the worry turning to confusion. "Are we going to be okay when we go home?"

That was something you couldn't answer. What was okay. Was okay how you normally act? Was okay something different? Something better? Something worse?

"Uh… maybe?" You offered, immediately wincing at your own words. You sighed deeply, "I don't really know how to explain what I'm feeling."

"Okay," Bucky took a moment, letting you both sit in the uncomfortable silence that was the lull in the conversation. He was doing his best not to become frustrated, he knew there was most likely no easy way for you to communicate what you wanted to say or even what you were feeling, but he's been able to tell for the past couple of days that things, specifically that you, have been off. "What do you know?"

Your gaze met his again, taking a deep breath in to try to gather the courage to say what you needed. "Things feel… different?"

"Different?"

"Different." 

Bucky stared at you for a moment, mind calculating and analyzing has he tried to decipher what you meant. In an instant it all clicked, and you didn't miss the way his lips curled into a quick smirk before his features soften. "Do things feel different when I call you my pretty girl?"

He watched as you immediately became flustered, averting your gaze and watching your chest rise and fall quicker. He thought he had sensed your heart rate quickening throughout the past couple of days, but he had honestly assumed it was anxiety from the mission. He had no reason to think it could be something else; Well, until now. 

"(Y/N)," your name came as firm and demanding, causing you to look at him. The smirk on his face was more evident now, "We can continue this conversation now, or when we get home. But just remember, you're my favorite book to read."

You were instantly lost for words, mouth opening and closing as you processed what he just said to you. Waiting until you were home was going to be far too long, but talking about whatever this was now? Right now when you were flustered beyond belief, that flippant warm feeling filling every valley and curve of your body? 

"Just say the word, doll, and I'll act like everything is normal. I'll go back to watching the movie and eating and ignoring the obivous."

A soft shake of your head was all you could muster as you search desperately for a will to stop the inevitable, or the courage to beg for it. 

"Words, (Y/N). Use your words." 

"I don't want normal." You swallowed, taking a shaky breath you continued, "I don't want this to go back to normal." 

Buckys lips turned to a smile. "You don't want this to stop when we go home?"

You shook you head more feverishly, "No, I - Fuck, what have you done to me?" You groaned out.

"The same thing you've been doing to me for years, I suppose." His tone was matter-of-fact, cool and calm almost. 

"What?" Your eyes had gone wide, mouth dry, and that God forsaken feeling low in your stomach was growing. 

"You heard me. Obviously, we'll have some talking to do when we get home." He chuckled

Bucky moved as if he was going to grab the food, stopping once he heard, "No," come out of your mouth, "No. I want to talk about it now."

He looked back at you, eyebrows raising as to silently ask how.

"I want to…" You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief at yourself before leaning forward, cupping the back of his neck with your hand and pressing your lips to his. 

This kiss was different; It was electricity filled, igniting every nerve in your body. You could feel the heat from your ears to your toes. It was intoxiting and addicting. 

Bucky waisted no time in kissing you back, even letting out a small groan at your sudden assertiveness. His prosthetic hand held onto you waist, the other cupping your face as the two of you broke years worth of tension in one swift motion. Bucky pulled away first, taking in the plumpness of your kiss swollen lips, the sluttering of your lashes as your opened your eyes to look at him, and the darkness of your gaze that was stricken with last. 

He looked just as enthralled, blue eyes dark as the night sky and hooded with desire, cheeks flushed slightly beneath his scruff. It finally clicked what the feeling you've been having all week was. Lust; pure, unadulterated lust for the man who was currently pretending to be your husband.

"Well damn, doll," he offered you a toothy grin, squeezing your waist, "Wasn't expecting that." 

"Sorry-"

"Don't be." He bit his lip, studying your face for a moment, "Whatcha thinking, pretty girl?"

You couldn't help but get flustered, "That I want more. A lot fucking more." You hand moved up from his neck to card through his hair, his breath hitching some as you did. "Please, James, I need more." Your voice had a slight whine to it, something you hoped he wouldn't be able to resist. 

"If I knew you sounded so pretty begging this would've happened years ago," he grumbled before kissing you again. This time though, he re-situated himself, helping you move to straddling him and doing his best to let you still have some semblance of control for now. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you from being able to move away from him.

One of your hands cupped his face, the other running down his clothed chest. You lips move in sink, a squeeze on your hips eliciting a small moan from you that he took advantage of, using your open mouth to slip his tongue in. You could feel the tent in his shorts growing, sitting hard against your core. 

An experimental grind of your hips pulled a moan form the man beneath you; The sound was music to your ears, and enough encouragement to do it again. 

Buckys hands moved, bracing you as he flipped you over to give himself more leverage and take control. Just as he begin to grind himself against you, he moved his lips from your to your neck. He kissed his way down to your pulse point, drinking in the sweet sounds you made. He sucked softly at the skin, moaned himself when you pulled at his hair. 

Any rationale thought was gone at this point, any fears or anxieties you had pushed to the back of your mind as pure pleasure and desire took over the forefront of your thoughts. Once Bucky was sure he would be satisfied with the mark he left on you, he pulled back some to look you in the eye. 

"Are you sure you want this?" He breathed out, offering you an out. 

You nodded so quickly he couldn't help but laugh softly, "God, you look so fucking desperate, doll. You want me to fuck you?" He had a slight tease to his voice. 

Another nod is all you could muster, but that wasn't good enough for him. "Uh uh, come on. Use your words. Need to hear you say it if you want me to do it."

You whined at his demand, pouting at him slightly, "Please."

"Please what?" His tone was more stern now, "If you want to continue, I need to know you actually want this." 

His insistence to make sure you were consenting pulled at your heart strings. You nodded, "Yes, Bucky," you kept your voice soft before adding a slight whine and plea to it, "Please fuck me."

He smiled, kissing you much softer than had had before, "I'd do anything you asked me to." His words sounded like a promise that had you own emotions bubbling up. 

Bucky leaned up for a moment, pulling off his shirt. He motioned for you to sit up and pulled yours off as well, groaning softly when he sat you skin. "Such a beautiful, pretty girl. Look at you," his hands ran up and down your sides and he took in your body before making eye contact with you again, "Most perfect thing I've ever seen, ya know that?" 

He could feel your skin heat up at his comments, watching you squirm. "Take your shorts off, doll." Bucky moved off the bed, kneeling on the floor at the edge, "C'mere." He demanded. 

You aren't going to deny him at this point, feeling yourself so tightly wrapped around his finger that you'd follow him into hell if it meant he kept talking to you like this. Once you were close enough, Bucky grabbed your thighs and pulled you to be perched on the edge on the bed, legs on his shoulders with his eyes level with your core. 

"Look at this sweet little pussy," he squeezed your thighs tight, "You're fucking glistening, doll." He started pressing kisses to your thighs, avoiding the very apace you needed him at. "Smell fucking divine, I just know you're gonna taste even better."

Bucky watched as you already started fishing the sheets, squirming and biting you lip to hold back any noise. He already decided it was his job to make it impossible for you to hold back. Bucky moved his right hand to interlock with yours, taking his left arm and using it to put pressure on your waist, the cold feel of the prosthetic a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. Just as he squeezed your hand, Bucky licked a thick stripe from your core to your clit, genuinely moaning at the taste. 

He wasted no time in drowning himself in your essence. Bucky licked and sucked, offering the occasional nibble, until you were grinding yourself in his face. Once soft gasps and moans were falling freely from you lips, he moved his left hand to your core, the cool digits of his forefinger and ringer figuring prodding your sopping hole. He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking softly as he pushed two fingers in, relishing in the fact that your moans got loud. 

Bucky pulled him mouth away, moving to you thighs and sucking hickies into the soft skin while his fingers worked magic. He already knew your body so well, years of working together on intimate missions allowed him to learn how to tell what you liked versus what you loved. 

After leaving a few marks, he leaned his head against your thighs, looking up at you through his lashes and watching had your chest rose and fell and you head was thrown back in pure pleasure. "I was fucking right. Taste like honey, could drink you up all fucking day." 

He licked a quick stripe again, from where his fingers were to the hilt inside you all the way to your clit. "So, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to continue eating your sweet little pussy until you cum all of face then I'm going to fuck you nice and deep so you feel my cock for days."

He chuckled when he felt your walls flutter around his fingers, "You like the sound of that, pretty girl?" He curled his fingers, hitting the spongy spot that had you gasping for air and eyes rolling into the back of your head. "Look, you're already so close to the edge. You better soak me, baby."

Bucky didn't fall short on his word, getting back to work on your clit with his mouth. His scruff added a nice sensation that bordered on pleasurable pain, fingers moving st the perfect pace and curving expertly, mouth switching between sucking and kitten licks. His right had squeezed your own hand, encouraging you to let go for him. 

The pleasure was building quickly, it was intoxicating and inhibition destroying. You leaned up, using your free hand to grab hold of his hair and pull, giving you leverage to grind on his face. Bucky moaned against you, and truly giving you everything he was worth in his determination. 

It didn't take much longer for you to fall over the edge, moaning loudly and body convulsing. Your legs squeezed his head as he continued to work you through your orgasm until you fell back, panting for breath. 

Bucky pulled away, chuckling softly with a proud look in his face. From his nose down, he was absolutely glistening with your slick, "God you're fucking hot, using my face like that." 

Bucky stood, pulling his shorts off, using them to wipe his face some, then tossing them to the side. "Can't wait to see your pretty face when I fill you up. Your gonna take me so good, aren't you?" 

You nodded, already getting worked back up. You sat yourself up before he had the chance to grab you, leaning up and carding your hand through his hair again and guiding his lips to yours. You moaned at the taste of your own cum on his lips, reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock, jerking him slowly. 

He pulled away from your lips, breathing in sharp. "Uh uh, doll, you can do that another time," he kissed your forehead, a sweet gesture that was a drastic difference to what was currently happening, "Right now, I wanna be buried inside you, making you cum all over me again. Cmon, lay back down for me."

You stole one more kiss before resuming your prior position. Bucky stood at the edge of the bed, pulling you back to the edge and holding your legs spread wide. "You can tell me to stop at any point," he said softly, "but unless you do that, I'm not stopping until you're thoroughly filled with me."

You nodded, offering a desperate, "Please, Bucky. Want all of you," and moving to hold your own legs up as the extra step to prove how much you wanted this. 

"So fucking perfect," he groaned out. Bucky grabbed his length, teasing your slit a few times to get his thick tip left before finally pushing in. He was slow, listening to your gasp as he stretched you out so nicely. 

Inch by inch, he pushed in until he was bent over you and all the way to the hilt, your lower bodies completely flushed. "You feel fucking amazing around me," he moaned out, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. Just as you were starting to whine, he pulled all the way out before slamming back in, causing you to moan out loudly when you felt him in the deepest parts of you. 

Bucky set a brutal but rhythmic pace, changing it ever so slightly until he heard your moans and whines change to be deeper and louder. He moved one of your legs to his shoulder, which somehow allowed him to go even deeper, alternating between full thrusts and grinding against you. 

He reached down between the two of you, rubbing circles in your clit with his thumb and watching as your whole body begin to shake with intense pleasure. "Look at you," he moaned out, "Better than my wildest dreams. You gonna cum again for me, already doll?" 

He didn't need an answer at this point, he could tell from how your walls were squeezing him that you were close, and as much as he hated to admit it he wasn't far behind you. Bucky kept his movements consistent until he felt you fall over the edge again with a high pitch moan, his hips finally flattering as you squeezed him like a vice, quickly chasing his own high. A few erratic thrusts and he spilled into you with a moan of your name. 

Bucky let your legs down, taking a few deep breaths before pulling out of you. He laughed lightly as you whined at the loss of him. He disappeared to the bathroom, cleaning himself up before bringing back a warm, damp wash cloth to wipe you down with. Bucky pressed softly kisses to yoh skin and he wiped you off, kissing your lips before tossing the cloth to the side and climbing into bed with you. 

He helped you move back to laying normally in the bed, laughing once he noticed the credits of thie movie were rolling. He wrapped and arm around you, pulling you into his side and letting you get comfortable on him."How you feeling, doll?"

"Good, a little weird, but good." You said, voice drenched in exhaustion.

"Weird how?" He asked, rubbing his fingers up and down your back.

"Good weird. Happy things are gonna be different when we get home."

With how you were laying, you missed the way Bucky smiled down at you, "You don't understand how happy it makes me that I'll get to treat you like this all the time."

"Really?" You asked, already finding it hard to keep your eyes open.

"Doll, I've been yours since the moment I met you, someone was just too stubborn to notice her own feelings." He squeezed your side before going back to rubbing your back, "Get some sleep, we can talk in the morning."

[inkykeiji]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 + 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬

character: alastor warnings: no smut but still 18+, heavy pet/master dynamic, toxic relationship, blood, alastor is obv experiencing intense feelings of infatuation words: 818 notes: a thought i had based on just how much alastor casually touches charlie throughout the entire series hehe—something that would manifest tenfold with his favourite pet, i think!

For someone with a penchant for sadism, Alastor can be surprisingly touchy with his precious pet.

It’s primal: a compulsive need, an instinctive addiction, an insatiable parasite. It’s something he can’t control even if he wanted to—and he doesn’t have any interest in denying himself such a luxury. 

Not when you are his.

It’s possessive; a physical marker, a visual claim that you are owned, that you belong to him, answer to him, are of service to him. It’s a single finger, hooked in that pretty crimson collar, curled tightly around the leather as he leads you around the hotel with him, keeping you near, a bony knuckle pressed tight to your pulsing jugular. 

It’s a large palm, laid flat on the small of your back above the swell of your ass, fingers splayed wide and claws just barely piercing the thin cotton of your clothing as he guides you—to your seat at the dinner table, when you’ve been especially well-behaved; to the living room to witness a new group activity; to his bedroom, when he decides it’s time for his pet to sleep. 

It’s four fingers cuffed around your wrist, keeping you tethered to him via a leash of his flesh, obediently trailing behind him like the sweet little pet you are as he goes about his business in town, dutifully keeping silent just like he told you to, nuzzling into the space between his shoulder blades when he stills for an extended period of time, the ball of your nose rubbing over the prominent notches of his spine, his responding hum vibrating against your flesh.

It’s protective; a way to ensure that you are within reach of him at all times, so that he can defend against any and all incoming threats and potential dangers. It’s an arm curled around your shoulders, pressing you flush to his side where he can tuck you safely beneath his touch, or an arm twined around your waist, palm cupping your hip as he clutches you close, closer. 

It’s his thigh slotted up against your own during one of his routine lunches with Rosie, your elbow threaded through his as he chats and eats and laughs and plots, dainty fingers toying passively with the hem of his shirtsleeve, fingertips just barely brushing the thin skin stretched across his wrist. 

It’s his palm swathed around the nape of your neck, tips of his claws digging into your skin just hard enough to be a reminder—be good, behave—grip flexing the moment he senses any peril, instantly ready to yank you out of harm’s way and draw you back into himself, where you are shielded and secure, where you fit perfectly. 

It’s peaceful; an odd type of comfort he’s never quite experienced before—something deep-seated, something growing in his soul, something that soothes any unruliness the instant it begins to spawn within him, rattling his ribs and eroding his throat as it rages with gnawing teeth and thrashing claws. Doused in your presence, in your supposed love for him—your devotion, your affection, your obsession—it diminishes, dries up and dies; even if only for a moment.

It’s his chin resting on the crown of your head as he works and you sleep, curled into his chest, breaths damp and gentle against his collarbone, lulled into fitful dreams by the skillful scratch of his pen against parchment, the gentle clink of the metal pen nib against the glass ink bottle, the sharp scrape across the rim as he disposes of excess ink, a heavy sense of contentment sinking in his chest.

It’s demanding you sit at his feet during his nightly reading session, your body wound around his leg and a foot wedged between your thighs, his palm cupping the crown of your head as he strokes your hair in soothing, rhythmic motions. It’s allowing himself a brief glance down at you, something dense and warm seeping through his ribs and into his lungs when you nestle your cheek against his calf, fatigued eyes refusing to close without his explicit permission, licks of flame flickering in glazed pupils as you watch the blazing fireplace.

It’s him groping for you the moment anything mildly disconcerting happens, desperate to feel your flesh beneath his touch—filling his palms with fistfuls of you, staining his teeth and soaking his tongue with scarlet flowing from your throat or your wrist or your bosom, inhaling your scent harsh and deep as he buries his nose in you, and letting it pollute him, consume him, sedate him. 

And despite how new it all is, how scary it feels, how vulnerable it leaves him as it pries his ribs apart bone by bone, digs its talons into his tendons and pulls them apart string by string to expose, offer, whatever it is that throbs in his chest for you, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[simp-ly-writes]

Professionals

─────── · · A Black Ops 6 FanFic

Pairing: Russell Adler x Fem!Spy!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You are a MI6 spy with a secret mission different to what the CIA has requested you for; using your information gathering expertise, you pose as Russell Adlers wife as the both of you go undercover abroad, the catch? MI6 wants to know everything about your "husband" just as much as you do.

─ · · TAGS: no use of (y/n), non-canon compliant, flirting, use of pet names, teasing, fluff.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,607 | Part 2

─ · · A/N: I always wanted to try and make one of those series that stems off into prompts and scenarios so use this chapter as the basis! 😊 (I hope this somewhat makes sense lol).

─────── · ·

Monday Night | MI6 Agency, London

It was one of the few nice nights of the year yet here you were sat inside your Directors office. A couple dozen high ranking officers swarming around you, the room tense in wait as the leather of your seat groaned as you took a seat.

One thing happened after another, a team was preparing your looks, another briefing you on culture, customs and speech. You had worked for the secret intelligence service for over two and a half decades, starting right out of university yet had never experienced something quite like this in all your history. All you could do is nod along.

"He'll be sat there waiting when you arrive. He is CIA, Clandestine special officer. A full report will be sent to your room when you arrive, deployment immediately. You are dismissed, officer," was all you gathered from your Director before you were being followed out into a car, your belongings already packed for you, ring box sitting heavy between your hands in your lap. You couldn't find it in you to open it.

"You ready, (last/name)?" one of your fellow operators, Bill asked you, driving the car another office sat shotgun, so much security... you think to yourself, worried for what the hell kind of a mission they were sending you on and with who of all people?

"What am I not ready for?" you ask back, faking confidence yet feeling frustrated by the lack of information you were receiving before going overseas and acting as a double-agent.

"Well, from knowing you, marriage," he chuckles, fixing the rear-view mirror as you shuffle around in the backseat. It was obviously meant to be a joke to cheer you up yet the word marriage rung through your head, echoing on repeat.

"Well it's not like I'm actually gonna get married, Bill. Just got to look all pretty, get the information, and get the hell out. The ring is just another thing of the disguise at the end of the day," you reply with nonchalance before opening the ring box- immediately regretting so as you stare at the most gorgeous ring you could ever dream of.

What the fuck, is all you can mutter underneath you breath before Bill is pulling into a parking sport at the airport. The other officer already running around back to the truck, unloading your gear. Bill lets out a long low whistle after seeing the ring.

"Well, everyone's going to know your a taken woman with that rock on your finger." You flip Bill the finger, placing the ring onto your left hand before throwing the box into your handbag and stepping out of the car. A plane waits for you on the tarmac, engines already roaring and with one wave back to the boys, you are off up in the air on on your way to America.

─────── · ·

Tuesday Morning | Hotel, Washington, D.C.

When arriving to the "Land of Freedom," you quickly hailed a cab to your to-be-shared hotel room for the next few days. Your boss mentioned it as a speed, "get-to-know one another" meeting but in your eyes it would be the opportunity to get the upper hand on information.

Your mission was simple, do the missions the CIA wanted you in, provide them with the information they wanted all the while taking what your agency wanted- who exactly is Russell Adlers and what the hell they were doing with brainwashing.

You were surprised to see how many lanes of traffic there were on your want to the hotel room and once arriving to the five-star hotel, staff members were there awaiting your arrival, "Mrs. Adler, please allow me to hold your belongings and bring them up to your room for you. An assortment of breakfast has been prepared at your husbands request and will arrive in 30 minutes."

White gloves swiftly took your baggage from out of the trunk another holding the door open for you both before leading you up to your room. Deep stained hardwood made your heels click against its surface in tune with the live performance piano. You took in the dazzling crystal chandeliers of the lobby with its panelled walls and luscious plants. The elevator was glass with a gold banister that you leaned upon, examining every exist and staff member positioned for the "just-in-case" that came with the job.

With a ding, you were up to the ninth floor and lead down a cosy lit hallway before being presented with your keycard. A white glove motioned to the scanner before holding the door open for you to enter first.

The room was moody and romantic just as the lobby was fit with golden accents, walls in that signature wood paneling, and floor finished in a plush cream carpet. A kitchenette, small living space and bed set with fresh white sheets and a few too many pillows off to another room set within the suite. You were impressed to say the least once hearing the last of your luggage be placed within the room.

"Is there anything else we could assist you with Mrs. Adler?" the staff member asks, eyes hanging onto your every word- eager to help. You smiled at the young man before shaking your head with a smile. A strand of your hair falling out of place in doing so. "No, I am quite alright. Thank you for your work, I'll be sure to make my husband reward your service this morning." And with that, the door closed behind you as you took in the silence of the space before going digging.

Grabbing your gloves from your purse on the counter you opened every drawer and cranny, looking underneath every piece of furniture in the main room before heading towards the bedroom. The singular bed mocked you as the white sheets glistened through the sunlight peaking through the sheer curtains.

A singular small suitcase sat on an armchair that faced the bed. Delicately zipping it open you took apart its components yet finding nothing out of the ordinary, not a sloppy worker, you praised your "husband" before placing a small tracker into one of the open seams.

Standing back up and looking outside the reflection of another body behind you had you freezing in the moment. A tall man stood behind you by the outline of his broad shoulders, your eyes flickered between the two of you in the reflection. His voice casting goosebumps across your skin before you were reining yourself in, remember who you are, remember what the job is, remember-

"Hello, Sweetheart. Anything your looking for in particular?"

Shit. You turned around, casting a quick signature smile before slowly taking off your gloves and walking over to the side table. You felt his stare watching as you moved around the room as you took a seat on the corner of the bed.

"Just making sure that my husband was leaving me with no surprises after all you do know how much your wife hates them so," you retort now taking your time to stare. You took in the loafers he wore, freshly polished and leather matching the belt looping through pressed dress pants with the collared shirt he wore, a pair of aviators hanging from the unbuttoned part of his shirt.

His muscles bulged from the sleeves, veins casting up from his fingertips and up to his neck, beard freshly shaven and fitting the classy affluent couple look you both were assigned. Your eyes stopped at his face, watching as his head tilted in a silent demand for you to dare ask about the scar running up from his cheek to his nose.

"Already getting protective of me?" Adler teases catching your ring finger twitch at the name with a smirk.

You didn't appreciate him already trying to be above you, "the papers never said my husband would be handsome. How could they leave such an important part out?" you smile, your words genuine but the way in which you cross your legs after saying it as your husband raising a brow before rolling his eyes.

"I'm not the one you're trying to charm over. Save it for when we get overseas, I'm sure they'll enjoy it more-"

"And you didn't enjoy me calling you handsome?" you press forwards watching Adler roll his shoulders before scoffing. "I know I am, didn't need you to say it."

You gasp playfully, standing to tease more of his personality out of him but before you can reach Adler has your wrist in a firm yet gentle grip, cautious of his own strength. "I'm not going to break if you hold me so gently, Mr. Adler."

"Well, Mrs. Adler. If you think I'm going to get handsy you're wrong. Take the bed tonight, I'll settle on the couch."

Breakfast arrived shortly after your teasing match and while eating you appreciated that Adler did in fact hold table manners. Always making sure your coffee and water was filled yet apparently it was a step too far in asking for a bite off his plate as he waved you off.

It was the first day of a mission that you did not know when it would end but as you laid there in the cold sheets listening to Adler hum along to something on the radio before taking a drag from his cigarette. There was the smallest part of you hopeful that he would not hate you after all of this that became overshadowed by the job and everything you had at stake. There was no question but being the utmost professional.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: what did you think?? 👀 I've got some ideas of Adler finding out you have a side mission, introducing you to members of the team, missions gone wrong-AH! So many ideas, let me know if any of these stand out! 😄💕

[daisynik7]

Business Trip

husband!Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

Summary: Nanami hates going on business trips now that he has you in his life. Even with food and hotel expenses paid for by his company, it’s not enough to distract him from the fact that he misses you. The two of you have the perfect solution for this, which includes a vivid imagination and the help of a little, but mighty, toy. cw: sex-toy use (vibrator), phone sex, explicit sexual content, language, Nanami is a bit mean, dirty talk, use of pet-names (honey, sweetie, princess), reader is called whore and slut (endearing lol), just pure nasty smut. Author’s Notes: More husband!Nanami smut! I was inspired to write this because I just purchased my very first vibe two weeks ago and boy, is it something. Hope you like this filth! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated! Thanks for reading! Divider credits to @/cafekitsune! Tagging the lovely @liliorsstuff-blog bc I love her and Nanami is her husband. 😉

Nanami has a hard time when he has to go out of town for a business trip. He never used to mind it before; in fact, he liked being sent away to a different city every once in a while, especially when the food and hotel expenses were paid for. However, ever since the two of you have been together, he dreads them because it means time away from you. And he hates being apart from you. Absolutely hates it. And to be honest, you hate it too. 

This time, he’s sent to Osaka for a convention, staying at a swanky hotel covered by his company. He takes full advantage of this, ordering room service, indulging in a bottle or two of liquor from the mini bar. He even wraps himself in a fluffy robe after showering, sitting in bed with hair still wet at the tips. A single tap of his phone and he’s calling you, waiting a single ring for you to pick up. “Hi baby!” you answer, his mood instantly lifted at the sound of your cheery voice. 

“How are you, princess?” 

“Good. Just in our room now. How was your day?”

He spends the next several minutes recounting today’s festivities, including a funny story about him sneaking a second complimentary bento for lunch. You rant to him about your coworkers’ petty drama involving missing office supplies and stolen meals from the fridge. You both share what you ate for dinner, you complimenting the picture he sent earlier of the full spread ordered through room service. He sends you a quick snapshot of his current view of his hotel room, including his bare feet sticking out from under the robe. 

“Your room is so nice. Look at your toes!” you laugh. “Are you going to sleep soon?”

“Not yet. Still waiting for my hair to dry.” He pauses, contemplating for a split second before asking, “Are you in bed now?”

“Yup, all snuggled under the covers.”

He smiles to himself, picturing you cocooned in the thick comforter the two of you share, curled to the right side of the bed where you usually sleep. “Do you miss me?”

“Of course I do. I miss you so much.”

Without thinking, he spreads his legs wider, getting more comfortable against the pillows. “I miss you too, princess. I wish I was there with you right now.”

“Me too.”

There’s a moment of silence, tension hanging heavy in the static noise between you. Nanami decides to stop beating around the bush. It’s obvious what you both want. You’ve been married long enough, together even longer, there’s no shame or secrets anymore. “Wish I could fuck you right now,” he confesses.

You moan through the speaker, thighs splayed, reaching towards your pussy. Tonight, you’re wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, his scent lingering on the fabric, making you feel safe and secure in his absence. You sink into the cushions, whispering a breathy, “Baby.”

“Tell me what you’re wearing right now.”

“Just your t-shirt and my underwear.”

“Oh yeah? One of your silky ones?” 

You hum, confirming his suspicions as he loosens the knot of his robe, folding back the cotton to expose his hardening cock. “God, I bet you look so good right now.”

You giggle softly, lifting the hem of the shirt past your stomach, fingers brushing your skin delicately, imagining his instead. 

His voice is low, thick with lust. “I want to hear you come. Can you do that for me?”

“Mm-hm,” you respond, slipping underneath the waistband, teasing your clit with the pad of your middle finger. 

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, already knowing what you’re doing. “Not with your fingers, honey. Use the vibrator, remember?”

A whine escapes your mouth while you reach for the drawer to retrieve the small toy, the one you bought recently to supplement nights alone like this. He was the first to test it out on you, though. Made sure it was good enough to satisfy your needs. The recent memory of him pressing the fluttering tip to your clit, pumping wet fingers in and out of your cunt, has you throbbing. 

You push your panties past your knees, sliding them off completely at your ankles. With the blanket hastily stripped from your body, you spread your thighs wide, completely exposed from the waist down. A small bead of lube is just enough to get it slick. You rub the oiled tip up and down your pussy, finger on the button, anticipating the intense sensation.

“Don’t turn it on yet,” he demands. He wraps his hands around the base of his cock, slow strokes to start. “Tease it a little bit. Just like I do it.” 

Your husband always likes to take his time with you, no matter how desperate and aching for him you are. And when you’re two hundred plus miles away from each other, you predict he’s going to draw this out as long as he possibly can, both for his pleasure and yours. Not that you’re complaining.

You play with your clit, tingling bud pulsing against the smooth exterior of the vibrator. He huffs, “Don’t hold back. I want you dripping onto to the sheets. Can you do that for me, honey?”

Another moan escapes your lips, envisioning the mess you’re about to make with his sultry voice guiding you through it. “I can’t do it alone,” you whine, finger right on the trigger, raring to go. “Help me, Kento.”

“I’m right here, princess. Don’t worry. Just listen to me, okay? Follow my every word.”

You nod, hypnotized by each syllable uttered from his lust laden lips, like an obedient slut. You’ve almost forgotten that you’re alone in bed, convinced he’s whispering filthy instructions directly in your ear beside you, watching you unravel with the dormant toy pressed to your pussy. “Can you turn it on now, honey?” 

He’s gentle and affectionate in the beginning, hiding wicked desires behind endearing pet-names. Soon, he’ll start taunting you, tormenting you for being so fucking sensitive, so fucking needy. The two sides of him work together in perfect sync, angel and devil, both determined to make you lose yourself in the throes of passion. There’s nothing he loves more than seeing you, or in this case, hearing you, completely unhinged for him, and only him. 

When you finally push the button, the low buzz playing in the background, he can’t help but increase the pace of his strokes. He pictures your thighs open wide, the shaking tip nestled between your delicate pussy lips, the vibrations stimulating your clit, radiating down to your pointed toes. Head thrown back into the pillows, cheeks hot, tongue sticking out in that adorable dumb expression you make whenever you’re being fucked. It won’t take long for you to climax, not when he’s on the phone guiding you as he jerks his twitching cock. Just the thought of your body spasming from exhilaration is enough to get him off. 

“That’s it, right on your clit, honey. Does it feel good?” He knows it does, judging by how the only response he receives are your shameless moans. He chuckles, stroking himself faster. “I can’t understand you, honey. Does it feel good?” Still no reply, he growls, “Answer me.”

You choke on your spit, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. When you catch your breath, you let out a trembling, “Yes!”, resulting in another sinister laugh from him. 

“Feels so good, you can’t even speak properly, can you? Too fucked out to even think, huh? Nasty slut.” His devilish side kicks in, hell-bent on hearing you orgasm, to have you coming so hard you spill onto the sheets. “I married such a whore, didn’t I? That’s what you are, a fucking whore. You’re so fucking slutty for me, I love it.”

You’re a whimpering mess now, the vibe sending you into a spiral, clit aching from the relentless tremors. There’s not a coherent thought in your brain; you’re incapable of admitting to him that you’re close. You let him figure it out when you cry out, “Fuck!”, legs quivering and stomach tight from the intense high. 

“Give me your fucking orgasm, baby. Let me fucking hear it,” he spits out, sweat forming on his forehead. He’s since stripped his robe off entirely, laying on top of It while he masturbates to the sounds of his precious slut doing exactly what he wants her to do. What he needs her to do.

When you’re finished, you slide the toy lower so that it’s not directly on your sensitive bud. The fluttering tip starts making soft splashing noises at your arousal, indicating just how fucking wet you are. You place the phone right on your abdomen, hoping he can hear the lewd squelches from your pussy. For the first time since you began, you’re able to formulate a proper sentence, body relaxed into the mattress. “Can you hear it, baby? Can you hear how wet I am for you?”

He definitely can. “Ah, fuck,” he swears, fisting his shaft faster. His hand is not enough; it never is. But he lets his imagination do the rest for him. He knows how fucking juicy his pretty wife’s pussy is. Your perfect, luscious pussy lips puffy from overstimulation, covered in sticky sweet cum. He’d do anything for a taste of it right now, to run his tongue along your glistening folds, gather your slick and swallow it to quench his thirst. Dip his finger inside that gushy entrance only to stick it into his mouth, slurping every last drop. He admires the mental image before flicking his wrist with fervor, pumping his cock until he shoots his load onto his stomach. 

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, the static noise and muted buzzing from the phone settling in the silence. Nanami looks down, inspecting the wreckage splattered across his abs, leaking down his side and onto the robe beneath. He runs his fingers through his hair, forehead tacky with perspiration, exhaling with a satisfied smile before calling out, “Honey? Are you still there?”

It's only now that he remembers that the low hum is from the vibrator, still buzzing against your supple skin. Reserved moans growing louder as you circle the toy back to your needy clit, ready for another round. 

Nanami smirks to himself, holding the phone closer to his ear, rock hard again. It’s going to be a long, fulfilling night. 

[the-xolotl]

Songbird, Sing Me a Song

Alastor x singer!Reader

𝄞 A/N: i have this HC that Alastor has a special appreciation for singers (musicians in general) who are more classically inclined or those to perform music of his tastes especially if it reminds him of home

summery: In which Alastor owns your soul, just for the purpose of having live entertainment for himself.

✎ TAGS: sfw, no warnings, Alastor just wants to hear Reader sing, terms of endearment, no use of y/n, gn reader, no physical desc of reader, not proof read

“Come here, my pretty songbird,” Alastor’s lulling voice beckoned with his usual jovial tone, sounding like a lowly whisper. Your ears seem to almost perk up as he calls to you, pausing your current task in favor of answering to his command. Alastor has a habit of summoning you to his side at the drop of a hat, you were use to dropping whatever you’re doing in the moment to adhere to whatever he asked.

The call felt like a tug on your very soul, a gentle pull on the chain that tethered you to him. This very connection guiding you to where he is, like an automatic instinct of just knowing where he is. So your feet carried you to follow that direction, which you quickly realized is his radio tower. It’s going to be one of those evenings, the corners of your mouth curled upwards in a small smile.

Once in front of the door you knocked in a specific pattern letting him know it’s you entering, “Good evening, Sir, what can I do you for?” you asked with a polite smile.

The Radio Demon sat behind his desk elbows parked atop it resting his chin on the back of his hands, “Good evening, darling!” he greeted with glee, “Come in, come in. I find myself awfully bored doing this paperwork, I thought perhaps you’d be able to help me with that.”

You enter closing the door behind you, making your way in front of the console with a small giggle, “You’d like me to provide with a lil’ live performance, I take it?” you raise a playful eyebrow at him. This has become quite the habit since he summoned you to the hotel ever since his return.

You’ve been contracted to Alastor for a good few years, even before his impromptu sabbatical. In life, you had been a fairly known jazz and swing singer in some circles. Unfortunately you met an untimely demise due to a freak accident that cut your career short just as you were taking off, ending up in Hell, a little surprising to you.

Alastor had found you at the time you were struggling to adjust to your new hellish life. But everything comes at a price, he decided to take you in after you told him about your singing and musical abilities; your unconditional services for his protection. Simple.

It had been a little rough at first, selling your soul to one of the most dangerous overlords of hell, you later found out. He’s peculiar and extravagant but admittedly not awful. Just different. With time you learn to keep up, and he helped you gain some influence as a singer again by pulling strings and limbs where he needed.

Most recently you are the Hazbin Hotel’s front performer as per his request. As well as his private entertainer.

He flashed a bright smile, “Why you read my mind! Would my nightingale regale me with their beautiful voice for a while?” He regarded you with an extended palm, which you took with a spirited bow.

“How could I deny a personal request from my master? Specially with such flattery.” Sending a wink his way, you skip around the radio equipment over to pull the mic and stool he has for you just for these occasions.

You set your items, sitting a few feet in front of the console with in his line of view. Just how he liked it. “Any requests?” you ask with a smile.

“How about some originals? I’d be delighted to hear the music you wrote, or if you’ve written any recent pieces” His head tilted to the side, a little endearment slipping into his voice. It’s not often he does it, only in very private moments. He’d never say it, not even to you, but you are one of the pets he is most fond of.

Your eyes widen slightly feeling a little sheepish at the request, a light blush tinting your cheeks, “There’s a couple pieces actually,” you straighten your back and fold your hands over your lap preparing to start.

With a wave of his hand one of his shadows skidded about the floor, rising up to place one of his radios next to you.

“Lovely,” his radio filter crackling with the low notes of his voice, “Just adjust the dials and it will do the rest.”

Eying the item curiously you reach out to turn the little nubs. A small sparkle of green light flashed at your fingers. So quick you almost thought it hadn’t actually happened. Though, just as you adjust the frequency a familiar tune begins to play. Your tune.

Blinking a few times you readjust on your seat, things Alastor does shouldn’t surprise you anymore yet he manages to catch you every time. “This one is my favorite in particular,” you speak into the mic now, “Sound coming clear?”

“Crystal,” he says in his transatlantic accent as he leans forward on his desk.

You don’t miss a beat to come in hearing the into of your own song playing. Your melodic voice filling the room carried but the romantic jazz beat. It’s definitely a more modern sound of jazz but Alastor enjoys it nevertheless judging but the way his foot taps to the rhythm.

Gracefully, you croon every word into your mic hitting every note with expert ease. Not a single flat or too sharp note. Even as the tempo crescendos or decrescendos. Your delivery of the piece full of emotion, holding the mic delicately between your fingers. It’s mesmerizing even as you sit in place but your voice holds all the colors to paint the story of your song. Perfectly tuned voice with high and low notes.

As the song came to its end, Alastor applauded along to a clapping track sounding with a proud smile playing on his lips, “What a performance! Truly, one of the most unique voices I’ve ever heard,” he praises, “Well done, dear.”

You smile while bowing your head, “I’m glad you’ve found it enjoyable. I should add it to my set list for the next performance at the hotel.” You couldn’t help the rosie tint rising on your cheeks again. You had been quite proud of that one, so having Alastor appreciate it before anyone else has had the chance to hear it filled you with pride and joy. “You got to be the very first one to hear it.”

His smile grows playful, “Oh-ho! What an honor, dearest,” slightly bowing his head and bringing a hand over his heart to make it heartfelt. You chuckle at the gesture.

For the next couple hours the radio tower becomes immersed in the blues and swing that accompanied your finely tuned voice. The Overlord seemed delighted to have a personal concert while he worked. It reminded him about the little things he enjoyed while alive, your style being different but jazz will always take him back to good ol’ times in New Orleans.

His foot taps along to the rhythms, humming along to the words quietly harmonizing with you. His smile becoming more relaxed and work didn’t seem half bad anymore song after song. It relaxed him greatly to have your voice bouncing off the walls of the radio office, especially being the two of you. It’s like being in your own little bubble, he liked that.

Though, more than just for nostalgia he had other reasons to constantly call private audiences with you he would never tell you about. Even if he seems concentrated now, he occasionally stole glances at you, taking in the way your body swayed to the various beats.

By the end of the night, you had essentially performed a whole set. Some were your own songs, others classics and some of Alastor’s personal favorites. The mood is light even Alastor seems in a much better mood.

“Thank you very much, dearie, phenomenal show,” he praised as a wave of claps are heard throughout the room. You get up to give a deeper bow much like you often do for your public performances.

“Thank you, thank you! I’ll be here all week,” you joked, “I’m only a call away.”

Alastor chuckled standing up from his chair, finally, gathering all of his work, “You must be tired by now, how about we both retire, hm?” his hand cupping your lower back gently and guiding the both of you to the door. “Wouldn’t want to strain you, now would we,” he stated more than asked opening the for you.

Yawning you nodded, “It’s getting quite late. I think we both got carried away,” He agreed with a silent nod.

“I’ll take you to your quarters, it’ll be quicker,” hooking your arm under his, the shadows beneath his feet wiggle and curl around you, “Hold on tight, darling.”

You didn’t need to be told twice knowing exactly what he’s doing. You pressed further into his side tightening your grip on his arm. The darkness swallowed and you felt like the ground beneath you became quick sand sinking deeper and deeper into the void, it’s uncomfortable, a little claustrophobic. Fortunately it didn’t have to last very long, you could never get use to his teleportation method.

Delivering you right in front of your door, he lets you hold him until your legs are steady again. “Here we are!” he cheered, before letting you go he brings your hand delicately to his lips, “Good night, my songbird,” pressing a small kiss to your knuckles.

You smile up at him tiredly, “You as well, Sir.”

With that he’s disappearing off again, yet you never feel like he ever truly leaves. At least, figuratively. Somehow you always feel his presence lingering over you, in a good way.

© 2024 the-xolotl — all rights reserved. do NOT alter, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

—

࿐ dividers © cafekitsune ✧

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[hoshigray]

https://www.tumblr.com/hoshigray/725915919672573952/sit-down-for-this-one-alright-how-bout-a-gigolo

your fic with toji i love it sm 🫶🫶🫶 BUT how would he react if reader tried someone elses services cs her friends told her to try it out…

noonie, you're so real for this bc damn, why the hell didn't i think of that :OOO lol hope you like this, hon~~ spin-off of this → ☆;

cw: gigolo! Toji x fem! reader - smut so minors DNI - dumbification - toji being jealous/possessive bc duh - cunnilingus (f! receiving) - clitoral play (biting/grazing + pinching) - degradation (toji calling you a whore and slut) - scratching (f! receiving) - impact play; pussy slaps - prone bone + full nelson position - pet names (baby, mama, princess) - new playboy may or may not be Gojo *shrugs* ;) - just Toji fucking you dumb, lol - mention of drool and tears. wc: 1.6k

What should've happened today was Toji enjoying a night to himself because tonight he's seeing a client he hadn't seen in a long while. Nothing wrong with spending an afternoon with an old acquaintance, specifically when it entails a good night of getting his dick wet for a thick sum of cash. Besides, he planned on seeing you afterward — his little sweet thing — stopping by your place and spending the night.

It's funny, isn't it? He met you because of this little hustle of his, and here he is fawning over you like some dumb schoolboy. It makes him feel a bit of a wimp, catching feelings for a customer? That's rookie moves. But he couldn't care less; long as he gets to see your darling smile and fuck the ever-loving shit out of you once per week, all is good in the books.

Seeing and swooping you off your feet later tonight is what was supposed to happen. That's all he was thinking about exiting the hotel room after his client left and paid for his services as promised. So, why the hell were you the first person he saw out of the room? Your face utterly petrified when you turn to see him with another man's arm dropped over your shoulders. A familiar man — another playboy who seemed elated to be around with you. Toji could assume the worst from what he was seeing. Oh, hell no.

What happened today was meant to be kept between two people — you and this new playboy. It came out of fucking nowhere when your friends crowding you about this "new guy in town," elucidating how handsome and pretty the guy is and how great he was in bed ("I'm telling you, Y/n, you really outta try him out!" "No, for real though. Like, here's a pic of him we took right after he ate me out! Don't you think he has the most gorgeous eyes~?"). You had to admit the young man was charming, but that didn't necessarily mean you wanted to do anything explicit with him. So, why did your friends schedule a night with him for you!?? Still puzzled over the fact, you can't seem to answer.

Regardless, you did have sex with another guy today — another Gioglo at that. It wasn't anything serious between you two, just casual sex for money. Plus, it was a pleasure to hang out with him, as the guy seemed fun to be around! Even with his dark shades on, the brightest thing was his dashing smile. However, a deep part of yourself felt guilt over the charade because you haven't had services with anyone else other than Toji. Sure, you and the older man aren't in a labeled relationship outside of an escort and his client. But still, he's the only man you've been intimate with. He's the only one who knows your body more than you, what you like, and how to turn you on. You were his favorite after all.

To be in the hold of another man just felt wrong...That's why your eyes go wider than golf balls when you unexpectedly bump into him when leaving your hotel room with your new one-night stand. Oh, fucking shit...

It all happened relatively quick. One moment, Toji snatches your wrist and pulls you off the young playboy, having you follow his storming march to the hotel room he just left. The next moment, you're gasping for dear life with Toji propping you against a wall, his head buried between your legs dangled on his shoulders, and his mouth ravishing your soaked folds.

"Ahhh!!Ahhhh!! Toji, too fast, please st—Ohooo!!!"

"Shut the fuck up," he says coldly, giving your clitoris a light bite before giving it a slow lick. You jerk and shiver at the tease. "Stay still, or I'm droppin' ya."

Toji smacks on your chasm, a scream leaving your lips, and you just know the others next door heard. And a pinch to your clit results in incoherent babbles, drool pooling in your mouth drips down your chin.

It doesn't stop there. All your clothes discarded to the floor, he has you pinned on the bed by your shoulders, your legs trapped between his, and his pelvis hammering down on you. Forced wails erupt from your throat with every hash rut to the ass, your slit clamping onto him with every graze to your sweet spots. You grip the sheets from his vigorous pace, tears coursing down your hot face and staining the cream cotton pillowcase.

"...Ahhhaaa!!Nnmmph!! Ohhhhfuckingshiiiiit!!" It isn't the first you've had Toji drill his cock into you with a harsh cadence. Yet, with how each fierce and snappy thrust turns your mind to mush, being pinned to the mattress as your breath gets snatched away, you knew long before that what Toji was doing to you was different than all the other times you've had sex. A lot more aggressive — a lot more deadly.

And the older man doesn't falter at all, nope. If anything, your cries only fuel his drive even more, a grin lifting his scar on the right of his lip. "Hmm, what's wrong, baby? Not fast 'nough for ya?" You open your mouth, but your words are comprised of euphoric wails. Ticked, Toji smacks your ass, and a yelp escapes your sore body. He comes down to your ear while grinding his hips on your ass, choked shrieks are muffled by the pillow. "Hey, I'm talkin'. Hmm? You thinkin' bout that other fucker's dick inside ya, huh? He fuck ya real hard like this?"

"N-Nmmm....Noooo, I—OhhhhJesusssss...."

"You what?" A sharp thrust to your chasm prompts you to howl and your eyes roll back, too fucked out of your mind to know how loud you are. "Heh, y're lookin' real stupid right now. I bet you can't think a fuckin' thing with my dick in—Mmmm! fuck....Grippin' on me hard, actin' like a real whore, princess." More abrupts hits to your ass as his nails dig to your bare shoulders; the pain coincide with the pleasure you're experiencing has you seeing stars.

He fucks you like this for what feels like an hour, your ass and pussy hot from the constant contact of his pelvis and balls smacking deep into you. The feeling of his dick being practically the only thing rotting your mind.

But you don't get rest just yet, though. Towards the end, the sun is completely down, the city lights are displayed from the hotel window, and your ecstatic moans still fill the room. Your back is to his chest, your legs pulled back to your chest by his arms and forcing you in a headlock, while his intense ruts return and his cock churns your spongey insides. Here is where you've given up restraining yourself, letting Toji use your body as his plaything, tears and drool painting your face into a gorgeous mess.

"....Ohhoooo, Ahhhoooo—Hmmmm," your brain is too long gone to think proper sentences, your mouth sprouting out nonsense. It all humors the man beneath you, his gruff chuckles vibrating your back balanced on his chest. "Soooo deeep — sosodeeeep..."

"Feelin' good there, mama?" You only respond with a euphoric hum, another snicker from the older man. "Too fucked outta're mind to answer me. Lettin' another man touch this pussy; you take dick from everybody, huh. What a fuckin' slut..." He pushes his length upward to your hole. Come leaking from you, and a white ring around the base of his dick is evidence of your session. "Hnngh! But I made ya like that..."

"....Fuuuuck, Tojiiiii, don't stooop!!" You cry out to him with gritted teeth, your haze only worsening with his cock brushing up on your G- spot precisely. "Ohhhhhh, right there, right thereeee!!"

"Mmmph—Ohhhh shit," the way your cunt contracts around him almost makes him give in to another orgasm, biting on your shoulder to compose himself. "....Shit, shit, shit, so fuckin' tight, baby...."

The hot air and thick musk of your buddies get to your head, your head ringing and pounding. Screams grow higher with every stroke, and the cold shivers crawl up your spine. It's almost here. "Toji, Tojiii, I'm gonna cumm—hic—sooocloseee!!"

Toji sneers once more. "Yeah, you are. Cumming is all y'r pretty, dumb brain can think about." And with that, his pace increases speed, drilling your walls with his veiny girth. It all electrifies your nerves, your breathing off the rails, and your climax slapping you hard with the deep thrusts he gives you.

With a cloudy mind and a mindless smile, your slit flutters on Toji's length beautifully. Too enraptured with the blissful sensation to worry about the spit streaming down your puffy lips. And it doesn't take long for Toji to be under the same spell as you, his rhythm falling back with the spill of his load inside you. His brows trenched while pumping into you, his balls pulsing with your velvet walls.

Heaving bodies soon fall into a tranquil state, your breathing finding its way into a steady flow. Finally, Toji permits your body and mind to relax from his relentless hold, releasing your body from the full nelson and gently sliding your tired body next to his.

He wipes the saliva from your mouth with the back of his hand, his hooded jade eyes never leaving your fatigued ones. "Hehe, sorry 'bout that, baby. You just feel too good to share."

You purr into his touch, his hand cupping your cheek. "Too good that you'd break my ass?" He barks an exhausted laugh at your remark, a tired giggle fleeing your lips.

"For you, I'd break anyone else that thinks they can have you." Toji kisses your temple.

"And my ass?"

"...Only if I'm the one breakin' it." You playfully hit his abs, and another laugh leaves the older man before you two sleep in each other's warmth.

want more like this? plz send me more thirsts ♡

[shixcherie]

Love Is Blind, Truly. | Park Seonghwa ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 03 : Blindfold

↬ [ Synopsis ] : Blindfolded adventures with Seonghwa, especially in the city of love, could turn out to be this pleasurable, something you never expected. So many firsts on this trip, from the veil to anal, both of your pleasures knew no limits.

Word Count : 2.8k Genre : Idol Au, Smut, Angst, a bit slice of life, light fluff. Pairing : Boyfriend! Seonghwa x F.Reader

WARNINGS : Pure smut(18+), a bit of a plot, oral (fem recieving), dom seonghwa, multiple orgasms, praise, pet names (baby, honey), making out, unprotected sex, restrained sense of sight, blindfold included, nipple play, anal sex.

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆☆☆ NOTE : Day 3, Day 3, Day 3. Damn, I really got carried away with this! But I tried to perfect it as much as I could for you, ma chéries. I truly hope you enjoy this Parisian adventure with Seonghwa.

It had become a tradition for you and your boyfriend, Seonghwa, to take a mini vacation after every ATEEZ successful comeback. Even if it was just for a few days, you both always managed to carve out time for an intimate getaway, just the two of you. This tradition had been going strong for two years now, and this marked your sixth trip together.

This time, you chose Paris—the city of love.

Despite being in a relationship for over two years and being so deeply in love, you had never visited Paris together. The idea had simply never crossed your minds. So, as soon as you found a break in your busy schedules, you booked the trip in the blink of an eye, eager to experience the romance of Paris hand in hand.

It was the first day of your trip, although there wasn’t much of it left after landing at 5 in the evening. After checking into the hotel, settling in, and freshening up, you both decided to visit the Eiffel Tower—the ultimate spot for lovers. It was the perfect destination to kick off day one of your romantic getaway.

With the Eiffel Tower glowing above and the stars scattered across the night sky, you and Seonghwa stood close, soaking in the ambiance of Paris. He slipped his arm around your waist, pulling you a little closer. “You know” he murmured, voice soft but teasing, “this view is breathtaking, but it’s got nothing on you.”

You chuckled, leaning into him, your fingers playing with the edge of his coat. “Smooth, Hwa. It’s not Paris making you this charming, is it?”

He grinned, glancing down at you. “Maybe it’s a little bit of both. Paris, you… hard to say which one’s got me more captivated.”

He reached down to steal a quick kiss, and you met him halfway, tiptoeing to make your tiny form reach him.

“Well, I’ll take it. Just you, me, and the city of love... What else could I possibly want?” A playful spark lights up your eyes.

After soaking in the view, you both return to the hotel, too content and tired from the long plane ride to explore more that night. Room service arrives with a delicious meal, and you sit by the window, the lights of the city twinkling outside.

Between bites and laughter, Seonghwa raises his glass, a small smirk on his lips. “To us, and all the moments we’re going to steal for ourselves.”

You meet his gaze, lifting your glass with a knowing smile. “I’ll drink to that. Here’s to us, and whatever comes next.” You clink your glasses, your eyes meeting with a soft, playful spark.

As the night goes on, you curl up together, his arms wrapped tightly around you. Falling asleep with him beside you, you can't help but feel a mix of happiness and excitement for what the next day in Paris will bring.

--

When morning arrives, the rain tapping against the window greets you instead of the nice, bright sunrise you had wished for. You wake up, rubbing your eyes, and see Seonghwa already awake, watching the downpour with a frown on his face. The city outside is now a blur of rain-soaked streets.

“Looks like we’re staying in today” Seonghwa says with a chuckle, turning to you, trying to seem as cheerful as possible so you won’t be disappointed.

He knows how much Paris means to you and the amount of time and sleepless nights you poured into crafting the perfect itinerary for this trip. You had even created a whole Notion page filled with cute cafés, couple’s dates and activities, foods to try, and more.

You groan playfully, a pout forming on your lips. “I was hoping to explore all those cute cafés.” You are bummed about not being able to explore everything on your list, but does it really matter when the best part of the trip is right here in front of you, your boyfriend? A cozy day lazing in with Hwa, with the rain as the ambiance, and in Paris no less, doesn’t sound so bad.

“Guess it's better to leave some things to spontaneity” you comment, not realizing how this is going to come back to bite you in the ass later.

Seonghwa slips back into bed beside you, pulling the blankets around both of you.

“Maybe it’s a sign to relax today. We’ll explore tomorrow.” Your head rests gently on his chest as he gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“Are you hungry? Should we order something?” he asks, checking that it’s almost time for breakfast.

“Yup, I wan—” you are cut short when Seonghwa’s phone goes off on the bedside table. Hongjoong’s name flashes on the screen, which is a bit surprising, given he would never disturb you two on your vacation unless it is extremely important. Is everything okay? you think to yourself as Hwa takes the call.

And there goes your boyfriend on a long call. It has been an hour and a half, to be exact, and you guys haven’t even had breakfast yet.

Twirling on the bed, you are bored, flipping through the food menu the hotel provided to see what you could order for brunch. Yup, breakfast time is over, and lunch is upon you. You occasionally check on Seonghwa between your rolls on the bed, seeing if he is done with his call. But neither is he finished with his call, nor can you find anything interesting to order. And seeing how heavily it is still pouring, going outside is definitely not an option.

As you roll from one side of the bed to the other, an idea strikes you: why not cook something? The spacious room comes with a luxurious kitchen, and the hotel can provide groceries. Excitedly, you get up to tell Seonghwa about your plan, but in your haste, you slip off the bed and land on your butt with a thud.

Seonghwa immediately gets up to help, but you wave him off, laughing. “I’m alright!” you assure him.

He gives you a concerned look, mouthing, “Are you sure?”

You flash a thumbs-up and a wide smile, which eases his worry a bit. With a small nod, he returns to his call.

You decide to cook up kimchi jjigae, which goes perfectly with the chilly weather outside, along with a crisp glass of chilled white wine provided by the hotel as your beverage of choice, and tanghulu for dessert. The hotel room comes with an assortment of fruits, so you decide to make use of that as well, especially since it is the only dessert you have somehow perfected, and Seonghwa loves it. So, why not?

An hour later, you are done with all the dishes, and the table is set. Hwa is finished with his call too. Apparently, it is a minor screw-up, but somehow it is fixed. As you both enjoy your brunch, Hwa is all praises for the dishes and also feels a bit apologetic since you had to do all this on your own.

“It’s alright, Hwa, no need to apologize. And thank you.” you reply with a bright smile.

“Hongjoong also apologized for calling us in the middle of the vacation,” he mentions, and you give a reassuring nod in response. That is definitely not necessary on Joong’s part since you understand their work. “He is also sending a gift for us,” he exclaims excitedly.

“Really?? What is it?” you eagerly ask.

“Don’t know. He said it will be a surprise” he replies.

Lazing around the whole afternoon, it is 7 in the evening when a knock on the door brings you back. Hwa attends the door and thanks the delivery staff before coming back with the gift Hongjoong sent. Excitedly, you unwrap the box to reveal a bottle of premium champagne and a scarlet cloth… a blindfold?

You blink at the contents of the box with confusion. “A blindfold?” You shoot Seonghwa a teasing glance. “I smell Wooyoung’s hands included in the blindfold” Hwa adds, remembering Woo is also in the room while Hongjoong is on call with him.

But was any of you complaining, though? Not at all.

“Do you want to try it?” you ask. “We’ve tried a lot of stuff, but never a blindfold, so…” you wait for his response, a red blush coating your cheeks.

“If you want to, then I’m down for it” he exclaims, a flirty smirk on his lips. You run to the full-length mirror to check how it would look on you. Meanwhile, Seonghwa closes the curtains and dims the lights to set the room up for a sensual evening and a long, memorable night.

Making his way to you, he stands behind you, taking a quick glance. The blindfold covers your eyes, and your lips are slightly parted, a sight so mouthwatering in front of him that it makes his dick twitch in his pants. Admiring the sight in front of him, a sigh leaves his lips as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you back into his chest.

As you reach to take the blindfold off, his hands stop you gently, urging you to keep it on. The unspoken signal that he is now in control sends a shiver down your spine. His hands move messily but eagerly as he works to remove your clothes, his touch making it clear how turned on he is, ready to take you while stripping away your sense of sight.

His lips dip into your neck, leaving soft, teasing kisses as breathless moans slip from your lips, driving him crazy. Every brush of his mouth against your skin leaves you wanting more, while his hands wander, discarding each piece of clothing with increasing urgency.

He quickly gets rid of his own clothes, the sound of fabric hitting the floor registering in your haze of anticipation.

His hand finds yours, guiding you across the room as he leads you to the couch. You can’t see, but you feel everything — the steady tug of his hand, the subtle brush of his body against yours as he positions you. His grip tightens slightly, a silent promise that whatever comes next will be unforgettable.

“Ready, baby?” he asks softly. “Let me know if it’s too much.” he assures, his voice low and soothing.

Your hands grip the couch headrest, back arched, presenting yourself to him. His long fingers trail down your spine, slow and deliberate, sending shivers through you.

Reaching your soaked core, he teases you, fingers gliding over your slickness, rubbing slow circles. The pressure builds as his fingers work, sending waves of pleasure through you.

“Keep going, Hwa. Feels so good” you whimper, encouraging him. His touch pushes you to the edge, a welcome surprise on this trip, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Seonghwa’s fingers slip inside you without warning, drawing a whimpery yelp that quickly turns into moans as pleasure takes over. His fingers move skillfully, back and forth, while he leans over, biting softly into your shoulder. His pace quickens, and your body trembles under the relentless pleasure.

“You take me so well, baby. Ride them for me” he commands, his left hand fondling your breasts, occasionally pinching your hard nipples, sending jolts of electric pleasure through your entire body. Seonghwa’s unpredictability, the way his touches come with no pattern, always has you guessing and gasping, while the blindfold heightens every sensation.

You rock against his fingers, your body moving in rhythm with his, as he hits just the right spots, sending waves of unimaginable bliss through you. The pressure builds quickly, his quickened pace pushing you closer to the edge, ready to release yourself onto his waiting hand.

“Baby, stop.” he commands, halting you just as you are about to release on his fingers. A whiny whimper escapes your lips, denied the orgasm you so desperately crave. He pulls his fingers out, adding to your frustration.

Silence.

“Hwa?” you call, the quiet heightening the tension. Not being able to see him is equal parts agony and thrill, aching for release yet excited for whatever Seonghwa has planned next.

Just as you are about to move, his hungry tongue captures your pussy, flicking and licking your clit with fierce passion, making your knees weaken. His tongue works mercilessly, devouring your juices.

“Mmm” Hwa groans in pleasure, and it drives you wild not being able to see his gorgeous face or his lips coated with your slick.

“Hold on tight, baby. We don’t want you falling apart now, do we?” he teases, pausing between licks while his fingers resume their tender exploration of your dripping cunt. His insatiable hunger is evident in the way he devours you, his tongue working like magic.

“Hwa… oh my god, so fucking good” you cry out, your body jolting with each suck he takes of your drenched pussy. “One more, baby. I can’t get enough of your sweetnes” he murmurs, his words and mouth working in perfect harmony.

The intensity pushes you over the edge, and you come hard into his mouth.

He holds your legs, supporting you as your body trembles, unable to hold itself up. Seonghwa continues cleaning you up, his tongue licking you skillfully, leaving you breathless.

As his hands finally release your legs, you collapse onto the couch, your body still recovering from the overwhelming release you just experience.

What is Seonghwa going to do now?

The blindfold heightens your anticipation for every one of your boyfriend’s moves. Seonghwa always surprises you, and in this moment, everything feels amplified; what might seem ordinary when you can see becomes a thousand times more intense and pleasurable in your current state of restraint.

As you are deep in thought, Seonghwa’s hard dick makes contact with your asshole. He rubs his tip over your hole, leaving goosebumps across your entire body as you recover from the intense release you just had.

Oh, so he is going the anal route. You are still lost in your thoughts when he slams into you once; a swift thrust pushes his entire length into your ass, and a loud cry escapes your lips as his name leaves you, causing your entire body to tremble in shock.

Seonghwa, when left to his own control, is merciless, you realize.

“Hwa… oh damn, you feel so big” you gasp, relishing the fullness as he fills you to the brim. “Don’t just stay there—move, Hwa.” He pulls out just enough to tease before plunging back into you with a relentless thrust, igniting every nerve in your body.

Seonghwa moves with a new passion now, your walls squeezing his dick send his mind into a frenzy, making him feel like he is losing control as a sequence of “fucks” escapes his lips.

“Oh my god, baby, you take me so well. Made just for me” he says, fully in a state of bliss.

Seonghwa thrusts into you mercilessly, each thrust igniting a passionate fire in your entire being. The blindfold heightens your anticipation, amplifying every sensation as the sound of skin against skin fills the air with your whimpery moans.

“Faster, Hwa! Please” you plead, and he responds, quickening his pace, driving deeper inside you.

“God, you feel incredible” he moans, fingers gripping your hips, marking you with each thrust. As the pressure builds within you, the world outside fades away until it’s just the two of you lost in ecstasy.

“Come for me, baby. I want to feel you release around me” he begs, his voice dripping with lust.

Your body tightens, a scream escaping your lips as waves of pleasure crash over you.

Seonghwa rides out your orgasm, thrusting harder as you clench around him.

With one final thrust, he empties himself deep inside you, groaning your name in bliss.

This time, it hits Seonghwa harder as he gently pulls out of you and collapses on the couch with you lying on top of him.

You are fully lost in the feeling of ecstasy, not even realizing when he pulls out of you and settles beneath you.

The blindfold, soaked with tear stains, serves as proof of the unforgettable experience you had.

He gently removes the blindfold from your eyes, and as they adjust to the light, you try to figure out his face in the dimness. In the soft glow, the afterglow shines brighter, making Seonghwa feel giddy.

“Gotta thank Wooyoung for this wonderful red veil” you whisper, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“Only Wooyoung? What about me, baby?” Seonghwa pouts, his voice dripping with playful frustration.

You lean closer, your breath warm against his skin. “Oh, I can’t forget my amazing boyfriend. You just turned this trip into a sensual dream I won’t forget. Paris will never be the same” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, melting into him as you do.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[manicpixiefelix]

Whatever you do, don't envision Reader and Felix driving a vintage convertible through the Tuscan countryside. Top down, wind in their hair, the scent of lemon groves, music playing from the radio.

Perhaps they're on their way to a private party or they're ditching one 🤭

Felix and Reader are holding hands or he's got a hand on their thigh, loving the way they look so carefree.

(stumbling out of my inbox covered in fluff: i don't know where this came from)

There's no prying eyes in moments like these, no-one to perform for, no performers masquerading as his friends or friends of the family trying to steal his attention. Its all on you, and you've never performed for Felix the way the rest of the world has.

He loves you for it.

He loves you for many reasons, of course, but this is one of his favourites.

The sun has just set, the sky painted a burning orange before it fades to sweet lilac and then night, stars beginning to brighten in the sky, and you haven't stopped smiling since he'd pulled out of the parking lot of that god awful party. His darling parents were being progressive with none too subtle purpose, and while both you and he loved their ongoing support, sometimes it was a bit much. More than a bit much. It was suffocating.

But he has no phone service out here, only you beside him with the map he keeps under the seat, pointing out a quaint town an hour away with some kind of hotel situation, and his hand on your thigh. The radio is loud and bright, though you still complain about the CD player in his car -

"I spent good money on a tape deck that works, bought actual, brand new tapes -"

"Where the hell did you get those?" He laughed, but was endeared by your efforts, even as you talked over him, pointedly ignoring him.

"- made you a whole mixtape, and you went and replaced the take deck in your card with a bloody CD player!" You threw your hands in the air in mock dismay.

"I had the CD player put in when dad gave me the car," Felix half smiles, glancing at you for just a moment out of the corner of his eye, "years ago," he reminds you. Seeing the way you're trying so hard to keep up your show off being miffed, despite the sheepish smile curling at the edge of your lips, he gives your thigh a squeeze and looks back at the road.

Slowly, you uncross your arms, sitting back in your seat with a faint, playful pout. When you rest your hand on his, it's warm.

"Made a whole proper cover for it and everything, to put in that plastic cover-thingy they all come in."

"I know," Felix agrees, "I like how you styled the track list on the back," he can't help but smile, picturing it in his mind, "and it's a good set of songs."

He loves the goofy smile he knows you're wearing without even having to turn and look at you. Something about how genuinely you've always reacted to his praise has always warmed his heart; you'd always had a knack for telling his performative, placating praise from his sincerity. He's known you too long and too well by now to offer anything but sincerity when you both know it's rightfully deserved.

"I'll buy you a car with a tape deck just so we can listen to my road trip mix," you say it so casually that he's not quite sure if you're joking. But then you pet his hand, laughter ringing out from you, into the perfect Summer night, "kidding, Fi; I made it for you, listen to it wherever or whenever you want," he catches your easygoing shrug out of the corner of his eye, "or never. No skin off my nose." For a few moments, you distract yourself, tapping out inconsistent beats along his fingers, the back of his hand -

"Unless you want a car with a tape deck," this time he's sure it's not a joke. Its as casual as if you'd offered to simply buy him a beer, no real larger thoughts behind the offer. No part of you is performing the way anyone else would; not trying to bribe, or buy, or placate, or charm, or flaunt your wealth;

"You've just now reminded me why my parents are so adamantly pro-Gay Marriage," Felix couldn't help his laughter, and you sat back, watching the road ahead with a wry smile.

"Your parents are so adamantly pro-Gay Marriage because they desperately want me to pick if I'm to be legally recognised as one or the other, so they can marry me off right now to either you or your sister, but are too deep in their support of me to feel comfortable asking that," you turn to look at him with something forlorn in your eyes despite the smile on your lips, and Felix, despite how much he loved his parents, also knew you were absolutely right.

"No matter where in the world I am," Felix grins, as the lights of the town ahead begin to glow in the distance, "the minute -the absolute moment- mum finds out the two of us can legally get married, I bet you I get a call telling me to come home so she and dad can give me the family ring," and beside him, you're cackling with laughter just picturing it, "at three in the morning, I'll be in Australia or some place, high as fuck in the bush or something, and I'll have to deal with mum acting like she hasn't been plotting this arranged marriage shit for years!"

And the two of you laugh, because you're barely twenty, and the idea of a future beyond your youthful hedonism is overwhelming if you don't laugh about it. Politics, and real world issues, and the future neither of you want to think about, are all absurd, and laughable, and easy to push to the back of your minds. Like the cassette mixtape Felix keeps in his glove box even without a tape deck, because he knows he'll never lose it there.

You take Felix's hand from your thigh as you lace your fingers with his.

And you laugh.

And neither of you knows if it's because the idea of getting married feels preposterous, or maybe a little inevitable.

[zegrasdrysdale]

part 2 of what happens in that hotel room w Jamie😏

[ hotel room service ] j. drysdale

part two !

find part one HERE

pairing : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : Jamie goes back to the hotel with (Y/N) after the game

warning(s) : smut ! language, multiple orgasms, handjob, fingering, p in v penetrative sex, protected sex, pet names during sex, some dirty talk

author’s note : ask and you shall receive, anon. this is basically all smut and no plot (oops)

18+ below the cut ! MINORS DNI

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Instead of taking the bus back with the team, Jamie takes Trevor’s rental car to the hotel with (Y/N). Cronin didn’t give him any issues when he said he was going to get a ride back. Probably because Jamie played well during the game and had an assist on the Ducks’ only goal. All he has to do is be on time for the flight back to Anaheim in the morning.

The ride to the hotel feels like an eternity in Las Vegas traffic. (Y/N) thinks Los Angeles and New York traffic is terrible but Vegas on a warm night is just as bad. All she wants to do is spend the night with her boyfriend and show him how proud she is of him.

She keeps a hand on Jamie’s leg the entire drive back to the hotel. Jamie has a hand resting on hers while he responds to some texts on his phone. Music is playing at a soft level so they aren’t driving back in complete silence.

Jamie chuckles beside her and she glances over at him when they stop at a red light. "The team found out that I wasn't getting on the bus with them and Trevor told them why so now they're all making comments in the group chat," he tells her. "Some of the comments are funny."

(Y/N) smiles and keeps her eyes on the road. "I'm glad that they feel like they can still tease you considering this was your first game back after injury and your contract dispute," she replies.

"Me too."

She parks the car when she gets to the hotel. This time the car is parked closer to the entrance since she doesn't have to hide from the Ducks or Jamie. Jamie grabs her hand as they walk inside. She can't help but smile at how he is being so public with his affection.

He normally isn't like this, but she's never minded a little PDA. Jamie isn't normally a fan of PDA. They'll hold hands occasionally, but they never do when he thinks his teammates will be around. Jamie doesn't like some of the comments they, mostly Trevor and Mason, make when they show affection.

Of course a couple of Ducks players are sitting in the lobby when (Y/N) and Jamie walk into the hotel. One of them whistles to get their attention. She looks over and sees Frank, Mason, Rico, and Cam are all sitting in the lounge area across from the check-in desk.

Rico and Frank have grins on their faces. Mason smiles and shouts, "Get it, Jimmy!"

(Y/N) looks up at Jamie, who finally looks over at Mason. "Be glad I'm not going to be on the same floor as you," he retorts. "You wouldn't be saying that if I was."

Mason's jaw drops and Jamie snickers as he pulls (Y/N) to the elevator. She clicks the button for her floor as the doors shut. Jamie wastes no time in the empty elevator and presses her against the cool wall by her waist.

"You can't wait a few more minutes?" she giggles.

"You're a sight in my jersey, (Y/N)," he tells her as he leans and nips at her jaw. "Plus, I've really missed you. I wasn't expecting to see you here when you're supposed to be in New York for another week."

She melts against Jamie and wraps her arms around his neck. "I had to be there for your first game," she manages to get out. "I haven't watched you play NHL hockey yet."

The elevator dings and Jamie backs away just in case anyone is on the other side of the doors. There is no one so (Y/N) grabs his hand and walks down the hallway to her room. She digs in her pocket for the key as they stumble down the hallway.

As she grabs her key when they reach her door, Jamie comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. He moves her hair off her shoulder and begins kissing her neck. "Jamie," she gasps as she unlocks the door with the key. "We're literally right outside the room."

"Get inside the room," he mumbles against her skin.

"So needy," she teases as she pushes the door open. Jamie stumbles into the room behind her.

The door shuts and Jamie is quick to spin them around to (Y/N) is being pressed against the wall right by the door. She gasps and stares up at Jamie. "You have no idea how much I've missed you," he says to her as he presses himself against her.

Something pokes at (Y/N)'s waist and she smiles. "I think I might have an idea," she replies as she snakes her hand between them. She palms Jamie over the pants of his arrival suit. He lets out a low groan.

"Fuck," he breathes out. She presses a little harder and he lets out a soft gasp. "Oh, fuck me."

She uses her other hand to begin unbuttoning Jamie's button up that he's wearing under his jacket as her lips attach to his neck right under his jaw. She's gotten pretty good at unbuttoning his shirts with one hand recently. It drives Jamie crazy that she can do this.

As soon as his shirt is unbuttoned and untucked from his pants, she trails kisses down his neck to his chest. "(Y/N)," he sighs as she nips at his chest. "Bed. Now."

"Take me to bed, Jamie," she challenges.

Without missing a beat, Jamie lifts her up. She sequels and wraps herself around him as he walks fifteen feet to the closest bed.

She's still wrapped around him when he deposits her onto the mattress after crawling onto the bed on his knees. He falls and hovers on top of her as her head hits the pillows and she lets out a giggle. He smiles and looks down at her.

The sight above her is almost too much for (Y/N).

His usually soft eyes have a fire behind them that she only sees when he's turned on. She can see his freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks in the dimly lit room. The smile he has on his lips is beautiful. Jamie's beautiful.

She reaches up and cups Jamie's jaw in her hands. "I missed you," she tells him. Her voice is so soft it almost comes out as a whisper. "A month away from you is too long."

"I agree," he says. "I missed you too. I missed this."

Needing him close to her, (Y/N) pulls Jamie into a searing kiss. It's hot and needy and quick from the moment their lips connect. The kiss alone is enough to cause a warm sensation to form in her belly. She's been away from Jamie too long.

Jamie grinds the bulge of his pants against her legging covered core. He lifts one of her legs around his waist to get a better angle. She lets out a soft groan into the kiss that follows.

She pushes the jacket and unbuttoned shirt he's still wearing off his upper body. Jamie throws them somewhere on the floor without breaking the kiss. Her hands find their way to the back of his neck and her fingers curl into the hair at the base of his neck. She pulls him even closer to him.

His lips leave hers and attach to her neck. He nips at the skin but is careful not to leave any marks. Hopefully.

She sighs and reaches between them to get Jamie's pants off his body. She manages to get them down to his knees before he kicks them off. Her hand sneaks into the waistband of his boxers to get a hold of his hard dick. She gives him a few slow pumps.

Jamie begins to slowly kiss down her neck. "(Y/N)," he mumbles against her collarbone. "Jersey off."

"Get off of me then."

She feels Jamie smile before he falls onto his side. (Y/N) sits up and pulls Jamie's jersey over her head. He props himself up on his elbow and pulls at her leggings. "These too because you know I'm going to struggle getting them off and I want to get my hands on you as soon as possible," he tells her.

(Y/N) laughs and shakes her head. "I think you need to figure out how to get a pair of leggings off a woman, Jamie," she teases. "You wear compression pants all the time so I don't know how you can't get a pair of leggings off of me."

"I'm rarely ever in a rush to get my compression pants off," Jamie tells her. "Get them off, (Y/N). Please."

Another laugh falls from her lips as she lays back and lifts her hips off the mattress so she can get her leggings off. She throws them to the side and pulls Jamie back down for a tender kiss.

His hand runs up and down her right thigh. She lets her legs fall apart for him. Jamie jumps on the opportunity because he immediately slips his fingers into the waistband of her lace panties.

Yes, she wore a lace set under the jersey. She hoped that she would end up in bed with Jamie since it had been weeks. She wanted to look nice.

He runs his fingers through her already soaked folds. She wouldn't be surprised if the lace was ruined from how wet she is. Jamie hums into the kiss. "So wet," he mumbles.

"Only for you," she says between kisses. Jamie smiles and dips a finger into her. She gasps and pulls back from the kiss to look at him. "Jamie. Teasing isn't nice. Finger me or don't-"

Jamie cuts her off by fully sinking two fingers into her. She whines at the sudden but familiar feel of Jamie's fingers inside of her. "I always take care of you, baby," he tells her.

He begins to move his fingers and she sighs. Her right hands makes it over to the waistband of Jamie's boxers. She slides it in and wraps her hand around his dick. Her thumb runs over the leaking tip and uses the precome to pump him easier.

They're both a mess as they work each other closer to the edge. Jamie lets out soft groans and (Y/N) moans every time Jamie moves his fingers into her. Jamie's nose is buried against her cheek and he occasionally presses a soft kiss to her cheekbone.

Eventually, Jamie adds a third fingers. She cries out when he curls his fingers every time he moves them. "Jamie," she whines. "Jamie, Jamie Jamie."

"I've got you," he tells her, breath hitting her ear. "Come, baby. I know you want to. Come on my fingers."

His words are the reason she comes right then and there. She lets out a loud cry and her entire body shakes from the orgasm. Her back arches off the bed and closer to Jamie. Her vision goes completely white for a second.

Her legs are shaking and Jamie has his fingers in his mouth when she comes to. "Fuck," she pants as she watches Jamie suck the come off his fingers. "That's hot."

"You're hot," Jamie retorts.

(Y/N) crashes her lips to Jamie's and she swears she tastes herself on his lips. She hums and moves so she's straddling Jamie's bulge. She reaches behind her and unclasps the bra she's wearing. She lets the fabric fall off her body before it joins the rest of the clothes on the floor. Jamie's hands are immediately cupping her breasts.

Jamie sits up and wraps one of his arms around her waist. The kiss breaks and he turns his attention to her chest. His free hand grasps one breast and his mouth is on the other. He plays with her nipple and she gasps. "God, Jamie," she breathes out. "Keep this up and I'm gonna come again before you even get inside of me."

"I'd be okay with making you come three times in less than an hour," Jamie tells her. He looks up at her with his eyes as he trails kisses from one boob to the other.

She smiles and shakes her head. "Needed you in me like yesterday, Jamie," she replies. He nips at her breast and she gasps. "Baby. Come on."

"Okay, okay," he laughs. He snaps the waistband of her ruined panties. "Get these off while I grab a condom."

With zero hesitation, she falls off his lap onto her back. She lifts her hips up to pull off the panties. As she throws them to the ground, Jamie grabs a tiny silver package out of his wallet. He tears it open with his teeth as he pushes his boxers off his body. She watches as he slides its contents on his dick.

Jamie comes back over to her and crawls on top of her. She notices the layer of sweat that has formed on his forehead. She can't help but smile.

That smile quickly falters as Jamie runs the tip of his dick through her folds. "Jamie," she breathes out. "Please. Please, baby."

She wraps her legs around his waist and digs her heels into the back of his thighs. Jamie kisses her jaw and mumbles, "So beautiful like this. All mine."

(Y/N)'s smile returns as Jamie slowly slides himself into her. She wraps her arms around his neck and lets out a soft sigh as he lets her adjust to his size. It has been a month since they've had sex.

Jamie bottoms out in her and doesn't move so she can adjust. She's also extremely impatient so she rolls her hips against him. "Fuck, (Y/N)," Jamie breathes out.

"Move, Jamie," she pleads. "I swear to God-"

He slams into her so hard it makes her dizzy. "I told you that I have you," he tells her. "So fucking needy for me."

Jamie rolls his hips into her slowly but deeply. "So fucking needy for you, Jamie baby," she echoes. "Fuck."

He must use that as motivation because his pace quickens.

She's so overwhelmed by how good it feels that she nearly blacks out. She's a moaning mess beneath Jamie, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Jamie's lips reattach to her neck and she whines.

Sex with Jamie is never the same twice, and that's what she loves most about being in bed with him. She never knows what to expect. Tonight, she gets soft Jamie that moves and touches her like she's fragile. She gets the Jamie that makes sure she's taken care of first before he worries about his own needs.

She wants that to change though.

Without warning, (Y/N) pushes Jamie to the side and rolls on top of him. All without him slipping out of her. She sits up on his dick and he looks at her with wide eyes. "You lay there and look pretty," she tells him. "You played an entire hockey game tonight. Gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel good."

"Shit," Jamie breathes out as she begins to roll her hips. She smiles as Jamie squirms underneath her.

It's not often when she takes control in the bedroom, but she knows Jamie loves it whenever she does because of how rare it is. She loves to surprise him.

His hands rest on her waist and he helps her keep her pace. Her hands are on his torso. Soft groans fall from her lips every time she lowers herself onto him.

Her hair creates a curtain around their faces when she leans down to get her lips on Jamie's neck. He fucks up into her and she moans against his skin.

"Feel so good around me," Jamie sighs. "So tight."

"Feels so good inside me," she mumbles. "Make me come again, Jamie."

Jamie sneaks a hand between them and takes the sensitive bud between his fingers. He plays with her clit and she cries out from the slight oversensitivity. She cries out in pleasure.

"Come for me again, baby," Jamie rasps in her ear. "Come on my cock like a good girl. You want to make me feel good? Come for me."

That's the first time Jamie has talked to her like that and it's so hot.

Her second orgasm hits her harder than the first. She cries out right near Jamie's ear as she clenches around him. She has a fistful of the pillow under Jamie's head as her orgasm rips through her entire body.

She collapses on top of Jamie with a loud groan.

At some point, Jamie came inside the condom inside of her. When she comes to, her entire body is shaking and Jamie is tying off the used condom and throwing it into the trash.

"I'm gonna need you to talk to me like that more often," she pants. "Holy shit, Jamie."

"Not too much?"

"Definitely not too much."

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The next morning comes way too early for (Y/N). Light is coming in through the large window that overlooks the strip. Jamie is already up and looking at her when she opens her eyes.

He smiles and mumbles, "Good morning." He nuzzles at her jaw and she laughs.

"Watching me sleep is so Edward Cullen of you," she comments as Jamie leaves soft kisses to her jaw. "But good morning."

"Team is doing breakfast before we pack up and head back to Anaheim," he tells her. "They said you're welcome to join us. Just be prepared for the comments I'm going to get when I show up to the table in the suit I was wearing yesterday."

She smiles and backs up so she can look at him. He looks so pretty in the rising sunlight. "I'll give it right back to them so you better be ready for that," she replies. "Anyway, I'm hungry. Let's go."

Without warning, she jumps out of bed. She finds one of the sports bras she packed and throws that on. She puts on one of her Ducks hockey shirts that Jamie gave her as well as a pair of shorts. She puts her hair up in a messy bun before she turns and looks at Jamie.

He's buttoning the shirt all the way up to the collar. She walks up to him and swats his hands away. "Leave these undone," she tells him as she undoes the first few buttons. "It's hot."

Jamie shakes his head as she grabs the key card from the floor. He taps her ass on the way out the door and she squeals in reply. She does get her revenge in the elevator.

The entire Ducks roster looks over at Jamie and (Y/N) as they walk into the little dining area. Conversations die out when they make their appearance and they see how disheveled Jamie looks.

Trevor is sitting at a table with Mason, Leo, Frank, and Rico. He ends up standing up and starts a round of applause that the entire team joins in on. "He survived!"

She looks up and sees Jamie's face is tomato red. She smiles and shakes her head before heading toward the food. "Barely," is all she says in reply.

"Oh shit," Mason says. Trevor's jaw drops as Jamie follows right behind (Y/N) to get something to eat.

She bets Jamie is wishing they just ordered some room service or something with the way his teammates congratulate him and tease him because he had sex.

She loves watching them tease him though. It's like they're one big happy family and she's glad that Jamie has them.

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MASTERLIST | part one

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