#I know that I've drifted apart from some people

[shinobicyrus]

I've seen a lot of posts about Batman using his Bruce Wayne alter ego for the good of Gotham: job programs for felons released from prison, orphanages, charities, high wages for his employees, ethical business practices...the legendary post where Bruce Wayne goes to Wal-Mart.

Thus far I've never personally seen anybody really dig into the persona of Bruce Wayne the Billionaire Playboy. A handsome, rich, powerful man who always is seen at fancy galas, art openings, charity dinners, and wild parties with at least one beautiful woman on his arm.

We know Bruce Wayne is the mask, and its Batman who has a...complex love life, depending on the iteration we're talking about. Talia, Catwoman, sometimes Wonder Woman.

Bruce Wayne's dates, on the other hand, are all "normal" people. Maybe they're an aspiring actress, a supermodel, a prima ballerina, the occasional reporter...and every time there's that bit of nervousness at the start.

Sure everyone knows Bruce Wayne. Everyone knows the story with him. Sometimes his wilder parties make the news, but there's never really been anything nasty reported about him. Never...allegations. But he's a billionaire. He's one of the most powerful people in the whole city, nevermind the country. If he did have some skeletons in his closet. Well. Men with power have a way of making those kinds of stories go away, don't they?

As time goes on the Date's fears dissipate pretty quickly. Bruce Wayne is nothing but polite, kind, and at times charmingly awkward in an 'raised by his butler in a mansion' kind of way with his dates. Some of them can tell he's holding back, of course. Maybe the more perceptive Dates notice he's smarter than he lets on - playing the himbo or hamming up the "know-nothing rich boy" act to the cameras or some of his wealthy peers.

He also listens, is the thing. He's always listening to what they're saying, is interested in hearing about their careers, their hobbies, their lives. Really listens, too. Might refer to something a Date said weeks later off-hand. Buy out the whole museum for a private dinner date with a famous painting from an obscure artist they like, or a private performance with another's favorite band.

He has anecdotes and funny stories for days that somehow says very little about his personal life. The Dates know he has kids (it's practically a running gag in the news that Bruce Wayne has adopted yet another orphan) and maybe she might spot one of them at the mansion, but Bruce seems very keen to shelter them from any intense spotlight and scrutiny, and they all seem happy if a bit weird like him.

Eventually, there's drifting. He's a very busy man, with a very busy schedule. On more than on occasion his nice old butler will call and extend apologies that Mr. Wayne will not be able to make it this evening. Sometimes it's virtually impossible to get a hold of him over the phone. After a while they stop trying. None of them feel quite surprised by that. In the end, it just doesn't work. Sure, he's a little distant and doesn't make himself emotionally available...but he's not a bad person.

Especially when the so-called "exes" of Bruce Wayne start networking. Gotham isn't a small city, but the social circles Bruce Wayne travels in aren't as big. They don't quite gossip or complain about him. More like...who else would get it?

(I touched his side once and he winced...like he'd been hurt real bad there. He laughed and said it was tackle polo. How does that even-?)

(Somehow, after two dates, he saw right through me and listened while I told him what that casting director tried to do. He nodded, gave me the contact details of a law firm, and said not to worry about the legal fees.)

(I don't know for sure it was him, but it can't be a coincidence that my building got bought out from under my shitty landlord and we were all able to buy our apartments under market value.)

(He got my brother in the best rehab program in the city after his relapse. It probably saved his life. We'd stopped dating months ago, I still don't know how he found out.)

(He gave me a card with a phone number and told me that if I was ever in trouble to call it. Said one of his cars would come to pick me up, any time, any place, no questions asked. The one time I did have to use it after a bad party, it was Alfred.)

I think any tabloid reporter digging around for salacious stories or dirt about Bruce Wayne's love life would be completely and politely stonewalled when they try asking his former Dates. Even when money is offered. Every single one of them.

[aromantic-pantyanarchy]

It's me. I'm the cis, heterosexual, aromantic man. I will never marry, I will never be married, I will grow into middle age and elder age and I will die unmarried. I will be forced to support a household of myself on only my wages alone for the rest of my life. I will be asked about women and marriage and children by my family for the rest of my life (or men, the progressive ones might say). I may not ever come out to them. I feel like I burned my coming out on something stupid. I don't want to explain it. I don't want to run them through the definitions and intricacies. I don't want the acceptance without understanding, placating me with ceased questions and poor explanations to other, drunk adults.

I like my hair to be long, I spent a year with it dyed a golden blonde with dark roots because I like the trashy party girl aesthetic. I want to dye it again with pink tips. I like painting my nails, black and blue are my favorite colors. I like wearing chokers. I also like wearing baggy jeans and ratty hoodies. I like having stubble. I like having chest hair. I like having a square jaw and broad shoulders. I wish I had a flatter stomach and a thinner profile frame. I don't know what this makes me, perhaps this is something no more GNC than Machine Gun Kelly. I think about this a lot, how queer my appearance truly is. I should think about it less. I have thought long and hard about if I could be trans or if I could be non-binary or if I could be genderqueer and the conclusion I ultimately came to is that I most enjoy being a man open to whatever self-expression I want.

I don't date, but I've thought about it. I would like to meet people, and I would like to have sex with them. But I don't want to hurt them. I fear if I explain what I am beforehand it'll scare them away. I fear if I explain after they'll feel manipulated or abused. I don't know how many people in the dating scene want what I want. I fear my own lack of experience will make me a bad lay, an embarrassing story to tell to confidants in hindsight. I fear my own virginity, a boundary to those I wish to be like. All of these fears are baseless, as I've not been able to even begin a single relationship in my life. Despite this I still heavily identify with terms like "slut" and "manwhore" and "thot" because my interests lay so deeply within casual sex, sex without great intimacy or emotion. This may be some form of stolen valor. I hope the true sluts are not too mad at me.

I made this blog several years ago because a mutual of mine reblogged memes making fun of aro and ace people, making fun of the concept of aphobia, and in addition well known aphobes. I didn't feel comfortable talking about aro stuff on my main blog, for as little as I talk about it. Living through the ace discourse of the 2016 era has largely caused me to cringe in embarrassment any time I am forced to discuss my orientation with people who aren't aro or ace themselves. I no longer follow this person. I unfollowed many people I was mutuals with from that time, most of them because they posted too often about how much they hated men and I didn't want to see that, some because our interests simply drifted too far apart, only one for explicit aphobia reasons. (Also one because they became a "both sides are bad, any vote is wasted" libertarian, but that's unrelated.)

I guess at this point I don't care deeply about what strangers on the internet think of me. If a trusted friend told me that they don't think I'm truly queer that may hurt. But I am going to continue to use the word for myself. I take up no resources. I go to events that are open to me. If an event was not open to me, I think I'd not want to go anyways. I am not a hypothetical, I am not a strawman, I am a person with lived experiences both within and exterior to the queer community. If you hate me, I will permit you to continue to do so. But ultimately, I am who I am, I cannot change these facts, and I would not choose to do so even if I could.

[myownwholewildworld]

uniformed!joel one shot - the police officer

series masterlist | main masterlist | part ii

pairing: police officer!joel x f!reader.

summary: you're driving back home and, unbeknownst to you, you've committed quite a few traffic offences, noticed by the one and only police officer, joel miller. he's not gonna let you get your way that easily.

a/n: umm hello?? idk what happened, but here we are. i threw this idea to the wind, people seemed to like it, so i started typing and this is what came out. read the warnings and do not judge me please lol this is inspired by this and this ask, so kudos to them! so basically i have decided to start a series of one shots where joel miller wears different uniforms. YEAH, i know, i'm not okay but that's okay. if you guys have any suggestions for this series, my askbox is open! also, i've decided that if i/you guys want, i can write the same uniformed!joel more than once (e.g. two fics of police officer!joel). if someone is interested in being in the taglist for this series, please do let me know. anyways, i do appreciate all comments, reblogs, likes and asks. as always thank you for reading! <3

warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. dark theme. filthy smut. dub-con. age gap, no age gap, you choose (joel is mid-late 40s, reader is at least of legal drinking age). power imbalance (joel is a cop). alcohol consumption (reader is sober by the time it happens). fingering. squirting. oral (m and f receiving). mouth fucking. slut shaming. cheating. rough, public sex. unprotected piv. creampie. joel is a bully and a dick, basically, so be warned. alternating pov. no description of reader apart from having hair that can be pulled. not proofread so i'm sorry.

w/c: ~4.6k.

tagging some people who seemed to be v interested (please let me know if you want to be removed, no pressure!):

@fartcloudfartcloud @liciafonseca @fan-fiction-floozy @sweetlummie

“Shit”, you mumbled as the car keys slipped off your fingers.

You crouched down and blindly dabbed the asphalt, your phone falling off your hand too. You grunted in frustration ― maybe you did drink a bit more than what you had intended. Not to the point where you thought it would be dangerous, otherwise you wouldn’t be driving home. You were already clumsy when sober, so this was no sign of anything, really.

The keys had tumbled under your car, so you got on all fours and bent over to reach. After a few trials, you finally got hold of them. Steadying yourself on the handle of the driver’s side of your car, you got up. Your tiny, fitted skirt had scrunched up at your waist, so you pulled from the hem to bring it back down. Looking around, you hoped you hadn’t flashed anyone.

You had dressed up for the occasion. As you grew older, your group of friends slowly drifted apart, so agreeing on a date and time to meet up had been a fucking miracle. You had been out since midday and sipped on many margaritas to quench your thirst. But knowing you would need to drive back home, you had stopped drinking a couple of hours ago. If you could, you would have gotten hammered. Living in the outskirts of Austin sucked.

You managed to finally open your vehicle and sat down. You hunched down, avoiding the steering wheel, to undo your heels. A satisfied sigh escaped your lips when you took them off ― your feet were hurting so bad, you questioned all of your life choices. A minute later the motor roared awake, and you were on your merry way without a hitch.

That was until you drove out of the city center onto not very well-lit roads. You were driving through an industrial estate when sirens went off behind you. Clicking your tongue, you looked through the rearview mirror, thinking it may be an ambulance asking you to give way.

Ah, no, you were very mistaken. It was a freaking police car, and it seemed like it was asking you to pull over. Great, just fucking great, you thought.

The headlights blinded you, so you couldn’t see the man approaching your car. Then you heard a tap, tap, tap on your window, the officer dazing you with the torchlight. You inhaled deeply, putting on your best smile, and rolled down the window.

“Good evening, officer. What can I do for ya?”, you battered your eyelashes at him, still dazzled by the torchlight.

Maybe if you played all sweet and innocent, he would take pity on you and let you go.

However, you were met with a deep, husky voice.

“License and proof of insurance”, he barked, no good evening miss, no please, nothing. So rude.

When he put down the torch, you caught a glimpse of the guy’s face. Bearded jaw with a prominent moustache, brown curly hair with slivers of silver, an attractive hooked nose, and some devilish hazel eyes. He was in his mid or late forties and was so fucking handsome you almost drooled at the sight.

You bit your bottom lip, a lopsided smile curling at the corners.

“Yes, of course, officer”, your voice was sweet and smooth as you bowed over the passenger’s seat, your boobs casually resting on the steering wheel.

You opened the glove box and handed him the papers, faking the most innocent, girly look you could muster.

“Is there something wrong, officer?”, you asked, leaning on the door frame, gifting him with the tentative sight of your deep cleavage.

His eyes wandered off the papers he was holding and lingered where you intended. You read the tag on his shirt: Officer Miller. Well, Officer Miller looked damn good in that tight uniform. The black shirt clung to his flexed biceps, the buttons slightly giving way to the bulge of his chest, the belt hugging his waist and… good fucking lord, those thighs, the size of a rugby player’s.

Your mouth watered.

You would lie to yourself if you said you were not affected by his presence. In fact, your damp cunt might as well fucking disagree with you. You pressed your knees together, unconsciously looking for some relief to the sudden wet heat gathering in between your legs.

His eyes drifted up lazily, locking on to yours. You swore a muscle on his jaw twitched.

“You were speeding, doing 40 on a 30-mph road. And your headlights are off”, he replied, his tone raspy.

Fuuuuuuuck, that’s why I couldn’t see shit. Were you that drunk? You didn’t feel like it.

Your face expression didn’t flinch, playing dumb might just do the trick. So you giggled, smacking your forehead with the palm of your hand.

“Ah, silly me. But it was well lit up until now, sir, so no harm done, right?”, your honeyed voice pleaded. “I swear this was a 40-mph road a couple of months ago?”

“It was but got changed. Did you not see the road sign?”, he seemed to be very annoyed.

You had no time to answer, because Officer Miller pointed to your lap. For a second you panicked ― surely your arousal had not drenched your clothes, right? You were aware of how wet your pussy was, but not to that extreme. Right? You looked down ― your phone was resting on your lap, but nothing else. A wave of relief overcame you and then you glanced up at him, confused.

“You were talking on the phone while driving, I presume.”

You gasped and promptly shook no with your head.

“No, no, officer. You see, I left it there when I got in the car, I forgot it was on my lap. I promise I wasn’t texting or anything like that.” Your explanation was genuine, but he cocked a brow. “I wouldn’t lie to you, sir.”

“Why? Because you’re a good girl?”. That question caught you off guard and turned you on at the same time, sending shivers down your spine. Your clit twitched. You gaped and nodded unwittingly. “I see. Step out of the car.”

Your heart was racing, attempting to jump out of your chest. Maybe you had been too suggestive. But he was the embodiment of the law, surely the officer had had his good share of temptation and would not yield so easily.

You got out of your sedan, slightly dishevelled, and tugged at your skirt so it would stop riding up your thighs. Officer Miller had taken one step back, his eyes measuring you from top to bottom, loitering on your breasts. His tongue quickly darted out to wet his bottom lip ― you were mesmerised by the simple gesture and pondered how it would feel if you choked on his tongue.

That thought made your cunt gush some more. You pursed your lips ― eyes on him, trying to convey normalcy.

“You’ve been drinking and have also been driving barefoot. That’s a total of, what, five offences?”. Miller clicked his tongue in disapproval. “It’s like you’re begging to spend the night in a cell.” His eyes flickered with malice ― and something else. Lust?

You really did not want to sleep in a cell tonight. You just wanted to get home, that was all. Also, most of your “offences” were bullshit. You were certain he couldn’t charge you with half of it, but his wickedness made you wary.

“I’m not drunk,” you said with a languid smile, touching his forearm, his arms crossed at his chest. “I stopped drinking two hours ago, officer.”

He raised an eyebrow ― Officer Miller didn’t believe a word you said.

“I can smell it.” You didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but his eyes drifted down to your pussy.

“I-It?”, you repeated, lips parted.

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you for a long minute. Your bravery had flaked a bit, although your cunt was begging for him to do something about it.

Joel was having a hard time curbing his horniness. You were so inviting, so insinuating, it was like you were asking to be fucked there and then. Oh, yes, you were, he knew you were. Showing off your boobs, wetting your lips, rubbing your knees together, playing with the edge of your tiny skirt. He had noticed every single one of your seductive attempts.

His cock was hard, so much so that it was stretching against the zipper of his work trousers. He kept his arms crossed, but what he really wanted to do was to readjust his erection so it wouldn’t be so damn uncomfortable.

“Turn around, hands on the car”, he ordered with a steely voice.

You first looked muddled, but finally obliged, giving him your back ― your palms resting on the roof of your car, your knees pressed together. He was sure your cunt was pulsing, and you were just trying to calm yourself down.

The thought made him mad with lechery. His dick was throbbing already.

“I’m going to pat you down, and then I’m gonna cuff you. Understood?”, he warned you, getting close to you.

You suddenly looked over your shoulder, your smile unwavering. You tilted your pelvis back, your ass against his bulge. You glanced down and then back up at him decisively.

“I’m sure we can work something out, officer?”, you whispered, your butt pressing on his swollen lump.

No, Joel was not imagining things. You were definitely asking to be fucked senseless in exchange for just a warning. He was still contemplating whether to entertain the idea or not. You were tempting, he would give you that. Your body was built to satisfy a man’s pleasure ― he could see that even when you were clothed. Barely clothed. Your top was too small, your boobs almost spilling over the neckline; your skirt was too short, your ass cheeks almost visible ― and he was sure you had some slutty heels on before you jumped into the car.

His cock jerked at the thought of rearranging your guts. Because that was what Joel would do to you if he had the chance. He cupped his groin for a second now that you were not looking, pressing it slightly to relieve some of the tension.

It didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse. He suppressed a frustrated groan.

Joel slotted his right knee in between your legs and forced you to separate them, his heavy boot grounding him. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, you’re under arrest for at least reckless driving. Now stay still.” He was fully aware of how the top of his thigh brushed your crotch, but made a titanic effort to ignore it, for his own sanity.

Your panties were so fucking drenched, you feared your discharge might start dripping down your inner thighs. In fact, you let your head down to check discreetly and sighed with relief ― nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t notice how fucking horny you were.

Then he forcefully parted your legs, and you felt the fabric of his trousers sliding against your wet panties. The subtle touch made you jerked your hips up and then back down in surprise, your clothed cunt flushed against his thigh ― you had to swallow the sluttiest moan of your entire life, it felt damn good.

“I’m― I’m sorry”, you mumbled, lifting your body up to break the contact.

You didn’t need to look down to know that there would be a wet patch on his black trousers.

“You should be, making a mess of my uniform like that”, he grunted, exasperated.

Pressing your lips, you inspected every inch of the roof of your car while he patted you down. His big, calloused hands lingered on your underboob longer than necessary, almost cupping them. Both hands travelled down to your waist, his fingertips slightly under the waistband of your skirt.

Your heart was pounding, suddenly unsure of the whole thing. What were you really doing? Were you so desperate that you would let him use you in exchange for letting you go? Were you getting more than what you had bargained for?

It was like the excitement had burnt the last drop of alcohol in your blood and now you were fully aware of what you had unleashed.

But you had no more time to question your attitude, because Officer Miller completely slipped one of his hands under your underwear and buried all of his fingers in your soaked folds, except for his thumb which quickly found your clit. You shut your eyes and moaned audibly, your knees giving way.

His free hand wrapped around your waist to help you stand up, while his fingers traversed your whole slit, from your perineum to your clit, buttering your cunt with your own fluids.

“You are so fucking wet already, you should be ashamed of yourself”, he whispered in your ear while he pushed your ass back into his bulge.

Your treacherous body had awakened at his touch, your clit felt like it was on fire and your cunt was pulsating so hard it was uncomfortable. You rubbed his dick with your buttocks, unconsciously looking for some more friction. Miller groaned behind you, jerking you closer, his cock hard pressed against your ass.

Two of his fingers dipped further down and found your leaking hole, his thumb still rubbing your clit languidly. You whimpered and stirred your hips when one fingertip circled your entrance tentatively. Your back arched, pushing your butt further into his erection.

“Aren’t you a slut?”, he hissed as both fingers slid inside you, your brain not registering his words.

Your moist pussy clenched around his fingers, squeezing them hard. Every time your heart beat, so did your cunt. Officer Miller started fingering you, first slowly, and then picking up a relentless pace. Unable to control yourself, you mewled like a kitten in heat, your forehead now resting against the cold metal of your car and a thread of spit hanging from your mouth. Your needy cunt was so stimulated, so hot, so slippery, you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, even if you wanted to.

So you let go. You orgasmed so hard, you squirted with his fingers still dug in your creamy pussy. But you coming didn’t stop Officer Miller from driving his digits inside of you over and over again, forcing another climax on you a minute later. Your inner walls palpitated so violently, you felt the emptiness of your womb. Then you noticed it: the trickle of your own cum streaming down your inner thighs.

Officer Miller forced his fingers out of you, a pop sound making it obvious that your pussy was drown in your own fluids. The cop tapped your pussy a few times, almost gently, as the last wave washed off your nerve endings. You had never come so hard in your life before. Not even your boyfriend of five years had been able to turn you on this bad.

When your limbs regained some strength, Miller let go of your waist and stepped back. You slowly turned around to face him, but as your eyes drifted down his uniform, you realised that there was a new wet patch on his trousers, this time on his bulge. You had leaked so much, you had drenched his own pants.

You tried to find the words to explain to him that this was not what you had intended. Or was it?

“You’re still under arrest”, his voice was resolute, as if nothing of what just happened had affected him.

Before your neurons could make contact with each other, he handcuffed you, your laced hands resting in front of you, conveniently covering your spent pussy.

“But―”.

“No but’s, blackmailing a cop is an offence too. So that makes it six now, right?”, he cut you off.

You huffed, not believing what he was saying. You had not blackmailed him, not even close, he was just making it up now. Before you could argue, Officer Miller removed the keys from the ignition, shut the driver’s door and locked your car. He then grabbed you by your elbow, forcing you to walk in front of him towards his cruiser.

“Oh, c’mon, you’re now just bullying me”, you complained, your sweet façade quickly toppling.

Miller didn’t reply to your taunting. He simply opened the back door of his Crown Vic and threw you in. You almost tripped but manage to stop the falling. You sat down on the seat, your legs still out of the car, bare soles against the asphalt.

You didn’t know what possessed you, but your cuffed hands darted up and played with the buckle of his belt. Maybe if you gave him some head, he would relax and let you go. You were already in too deep anyway, your whipped pussy living proof of your desire.

“Officer, please, I can make it worth your while if you let me go”, you muttered, your fingers unclasping his belt.

Miller did not say one word, he just stared you down while you held his gaze. His waist slanted forward in an unspoken invitation, his eyes swirling with lust and wickedness.

You were not sure why you were doing this, or if you wanted to do this. But you were a horny mess, your pulsing cunt urging you to keep going, saturating your panties even more. Sure, you could drive home and ask your boyfriend to take care of you, but by the looks of it, you were going to spend the night in a station cell if you didn't do something about it. About him.

With firm hands, you undid the buckle and unzipped his trousers. His big, meaty cock sprung out with no warning, swaying in front of you. He was wearing no underwear. You marvelled at the sight ― his dick was the longest you had ever seen with a considerable girth, veiny and hairy at the base. It looked scary, but also fucking tempting.

“Don’t just stare, do something”, he commanded, grabbing your cuffed hands to bring them closer to his erection.

Ah, someone is impatient, you thought with a smirk before wrapping both of your hands around his circumference. With your mouth agape, close to his leaking tip, you rubbed the precum against his slit with your thumb and then started pumping him. His cock was palpitating, hard and velvety under your clasp ― and warm, so fucking warm you could feel his blood rushing underneath.

His jaw clenched, his eyes transfixed on your moving hands as you upped the rhythm. And then, without prior notice, he fisted your hair in a ponytail and drove his whole dick down your parted lips. You retched when his glans surpassed your uvula and coughed with his cock still in your mouth.

You were suffocating, but he didn’t give a fuck. In any case, he pushed his cock further down, but it had nowhere to go. His pubic hairs tingled the tip of your nose as you looked up, silently asking for mercy with teary eyes.

Miller glanced down at you and the motherfucker just smiled as you were still gagging.

“Look at you. What a whore, you’re taking it so well”, he mumbled under his breath before pushing your head back.

His cock slid out and you coughed to clear your throat of precum, swallowing it. His brutish attitude, although unwelcome, made your traitor of a cunt gush.

“I’m gonna fuck your throat to teach you a lesson. Open up for me, darlin’.”

You didn’t know why, but you just obeyed. Without breaking visual contact, the cop slotted his cock back in between your lips. With his hands on your temples, he tilted his hips forward until his tip stroked the end of your throat. Then he pulled out harshly and started jackhammering your mouth relentlessly, driving his cock in as far as he could every single time, his hairy balls hitting your chin. With Miller taking the lead, your cuffed hands were free. They were lazily resting on your lap until you dipped them down, your index caressing your deprived clit.

You just took it like a champ. After a while, your gag reflex relaxed and you dared to press your lips around his girth, so it would be more pleasurable for him. His slick cock was drumming in your mouth, filling it up entirely, choking you.

Miller pulled your head back sternly ― you were panting like a puppy by the time he was done with your throat. Your eyelashes were damp with unspent tears. You were sure that tomorrow it was going to hurt like if you had caught the worst cold of your life. Your mouth was filled with his sticky precum, a bridge of it connecting your mouth to his cock.

“You’ve not thrown up, well done”, he chuckled darkly. “Clean this mess for me.”

Again, as if you were not in control of yourself, you did as you were told. You licked his throbbing cock, swallowing all the fluids you had swept off his groin.

He lightly patted your cheek. “Good girl, now get up and take that finger out of your pussy.”

You had not realised you had been fingering yourself all along and your clit was begging for some relief. With a trembling sigh, you removed your hand from in between your legs and stood up.

Only then you caught on: he had not come yet. Fuck, you thought.

Did you want this? You were not sure. Letting him finger you and giving him head was one thing, but letting him fuck you was a completely different story. You were not a slut nor a cheater, but he made you feel like one. Your dribbling pussy made you feel like one.

Joel snatched his fingers around your elbow once again and made you walk to the front of his cruiser. He was in extreme need of relief ― his cock was pulsing so hard it was driving him mad with lust. He was gonna fuck that cunt of yours till you begged him to stop.

Unceremoniously, he splayed you down across the hood of his car ― your chest against the metal surface, your ass up in the air and your legs spread wide. If he could take a picture to jerk himself off to, he would.

He needed to see for himself, taste for himself. He was sure as hell that your pussy was drooling, beseeching to be filled to the brim. So he knelt behind you and parted your ass cheeks to have a better look. You whimpered, tiptoeing to give him better access to your soaked flaps.

“You’re such a slut. I could scrunch your panties to fill up an entire glass with your cum. Your thighs are all wet and tacky too”, he couldn’t stop himself from pointing it out, driving his hands up from the back of your knees, up your inner thighs, until they reached your crotch, framing your pussy.

He leaned forward and sipped from the fountain of your underwear, his fingers digging in the flesh of your ass, smelling your sweet sex. You wept, moving your hips against his mouth. Ah, yes, he knew you wanted him to fuck you hard. Very hard.

Joel rode up your tight skirt, exposing your ass to the elements. And then he pulled down your panties and put them in the pocket of his vest, as if they were a trophy. Because they were.

He now could have a better look at your creamy cunt, all smeared with your wanton fluids. Spreading your pussy open with his hands, he lapped you entirely a few times, even your butthole. Joel heard your moans loud and clear, knowing that you had never had your pussy eaten this good before. So he kept on going ― lapping, licking, sucking, biting until you squirted in his mouth, leaking like a broken tap and whining like a bitch in heat.

Joel drank it all and when you were finished, he stood up. He spanked your ass and with a swift movement, impaled you until his balls were flat against your thighs.

You screamed, literally screamed at the top of your lungs, when he stabbed you with his cock. You tried to hold onto something, but there was nothing you could grab. This was exactly what your cunt needed, being stuffed like a goddamn turkey in thanksgiving. Officer Miller drove his cock in and out of you lazily at first, and then he started fucking you stupid with such vigour that your body was being rocked back and forth, the handcuffs sliding against the hood, scratching the metal underneath.

You just moaned uncontrollably throughout the whole thing, unable to quieten yourself. Your cunt clutched around his throbbing dick, squeezing it hard, so hard you felt your muscles strain. Your clit spasmed severely, another fucking climax creeping up on you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK”, you implored to the sky, to him, to whoever was listening.

The cop then fisted your hair in a ponytail and pulled backwards, forcing you up off the hood, your back arching against his chest while he drilled you mercilessly. You were sure the squelching sounds your pussy was making could be heard from a mile away.

Then you finally came again, shrieking ― your treacherous pussy clamping down on his dick, leaking absolutely everywhere, trying to desperately milk him dry. Your eyes welled up, your black eyeliner running down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna take it inside and you’re not gonna complain”, he moaned in your ear and even in your blissful daze, you panicked.

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” you mentioned, but you knew it wasn’t going to stop him.

“Ah, do you? Doesn’t seem like it right now”, and then he huffed heavily, letting go, driving his cock as far inside of you as he physically could.

His warm cum filled you to the brim, painting your walls of sticky white. Irremediably, you sighed, heaving, and closed your eyes, letting yourself rejoice in how full you were of his spent, of his cock.

And as soon as it started, it ended. His dick slid out of your crying, sensitive pussy, leaving your damp skin exposed to the cold air.

You took a minute to compose yourself and pushing down your skirt. When you looked at him, he had already tucked away his cock back in his work trousers, his cop uniform slightly in disarray. Now there were more wet, sticky patches adorning his groin area, a mixture of your shared pleasure.

“Can I have my panties back, please?”, you requested, extending your hand to him, with a sunny, albeit quivering, smile.

“No, I’m keeping them.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Can I at least have a tissue to clean myself up?”, your voice grew smaller as you lost confidence.

“No. I want you to go home with your pussy bursting with my cum, so that boyfriend of yours knows you’ve been fucked stupid by someone else”, he explained, full of himself.

At least you were going home. Or so you thought until you saw him walk to the back door of his Crown Vic, holding it open for you to jump in.

“This means nothing, you’re still spending the night in the cell”, he said, matter-of-factly.

You scoffed, angry. “Are you fucking serious?”, you asked, although what you really wanted to do was cry.

But you swallowed your tears, contrite ― your pride was bigger than your shame. And right now, you felt mortified.

What had you done?

Well, you had gambled, and you lost.

But, on the other hand, he had fucked you so good, so filthy, you were not sure any other cock would measure up to his.

[seoulmatez]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝐵𝒜𝐵𝒴 𝐼𝒯'𝒮 𝒞𝒪𝐿𝒟 𝒪𝒰𝒯𝒮𝐼𝒟𝐸

info ⭑ nagi seishiro x reader ﾉ 0.9k wc ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff 

note ⭑ something short and sweet for the boy! it's been a while since i've written so forgive me if i'm rusty :3 

“jeez, sei, walk any closer and people might start thinking you’re my shadow,” you mumble into your scarf, tipping your chin up so your next words will be more audible. you’re walking home with nagi now but instead of the man taking steps beside you, he’s closely tracing your footsteps, arms wrapped around you and his hands stuffed in your pockets with yours. 

he’s stuck to you like super glue—like you’re his personal space heater.

“can’t help it,” he speaks up from behind you. if he’s able to get any closer, he does with his words. “it’s starting to get cold.”

besides being a notorious homebody, your boyfriend hates the cold. he hates how it makes his fingertips numb and his skin flush bright red and he especially hates how it makes his nose runny. even now, when the temperatures have yet to hit their coldest, he has a coat zipped up over his hoodie and a crochet bunny beanie sitting atop his head. snowy tufts of hair stick out from the hat but he’s sure to have the tops of his ears tucked away.

“poor baby,” you coo, fumbling for his hand in your pocket. you give it a squeeze before bringing up a suggestion that might help chase the chill away. “want some hot chocolate when we get home?”

you can practically feel him perk up behind you at the offer. nagi may hate the cold, but he loves getting warmed up—especially if it’s with you. he settles his chin on the top of your head and hums a confirmation, the vibration giving you all the answer you need.

he can’t see it, but you smile as you give his hand another loving squeeze. “anything for you, my snow prince.”

nagi groans at the unwanted nickname but it does little–nothing, really–to deter him from hanging off of you the rest of the way home.

it’s not long before the two of you are back at your apartment, settling into the warmth of the unit. while nagi readies the living room for your cozy night in, you stand at the counter with two mugs in front of you and a pot of milk heating up on the stove. the lyrics of the song that’s been stuck in your head these days drift through the air as you make your way about the kitchen to grab whipped cream from the fridge and marshmallows from the pantry.

when you’re back at your workstation and preparing to assemble your warm drinks, you call out for nagi. he’s particularly picky when it comes to the ratio of toppings and you’ve learned it’s best to simply have him supervise. you expect to hear his heavy footsteps alerting you of his arrival but are instead met with his icy hands snaking up beneath your hoodie.

you flinch and then squeal at the sensation, turning around in his hold to scold him. “sei! your hands are freezing!”

any attempt to push him away is futile. despite his lazy exterior characterized by oversized clothes and his floppy-eared hat, nagi is stronger than he looks. his grasp isn’t painful but it’s firm, like he has no intention of letting you go.

he pulls you closer and buries his head into your neck. his voice is muffled when he says, “i know,” he draws out the vowel, “but you aren’t. just help me get warm.”

“i’m trying to do that but it’s a bit hard when your ice packs for hands are up my shirt.” you turn your head to leave a kiss behind his ear as an incentive for him to let you get back to your task. it works, nagi loosening his hold on you in favor of standing at your side. there’s a pout on his lips but he silently watches and waits for you to continue making the drinks.

without the cute distraction, you’re able to pour the milk into each of the mugs and combine the liquid and powder to make the rich, chocolatey base. you add a pretty swirl of whipped cream to your cup before turning to nagi and spraying some of the sweet foam into his mouth. his cheeks puff out and you giggle at the sight before returning your attention to the mugs and beginning to add the whipped topping to nagi’s. through a mouthful, he tells you when to stop.

fluffy marshmallows come next. you sprinkle the minis on between each cup, glancing at nagi to see when you’ve reached his desired amount. he licks the lingering cream off of his lips while he nods in a silent gesture for you to continue. you’re sure you’re going to run out of space to pile them on when he finally says you’ve added enough. like usually, you dig into the bag for a few more of the bouncy treats to feed to your boyfriend.

he happily chews away while you return the ingredients to their place in the kitchen. you join him at the counter as he’s swallowing and like a magnet, he pulls you into him. you don’t fight it this time, choosing to melt into his hold instead.

nagi dips his head down, whispering a quiet, “thank you,” against your lips before capturing them in a kiss. he tastes like dessert, his mouth sweet from the whipped cream and marshmallows, lips soft from the chapstick he’s consistent about putting on in the colder months. and, unlike the rest of him, they’re warm.

you pull away with a smile, jerking your head in the direction of the mugs. “shall we go get warm under the blanket?”

he nods. “sounds good.”

hey there, it's manon :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

[peachhcs]

congrats em!!!

person A going out with person B for the first time in public to announce their relationship

perosn a- reader

perosn b -jack hughes

showing you off

jack hughes x fem!reader

you and jack finally make your relationship public!

1.4k words

i've never written for jack before, so i hope this is good 🫣 thank you again for sending in requests for the celly. i'm so excited to write about other hockey players!!

700 celly masterlist

you stood in front of the mirror doing last minute touches on your look. there was an edge of nerves running through your system knowing this was a big night for your relationship with jack. after agreeing to keep things private for the few months you two have been together, you decided you were ready to make things public. poor jack was more nervous than you were knowing how people online got.he worried the comments of other fans getting to you even though you told him countless times you could handle it. a few mean comments meant nothing to you knowing jack chose you. 

“i think i’m almost ready jacky,” you called to your boyfriend when you heard him shuffle into the room. his head poked into the connected bathroom, a smile gracing his lips when he saw your pretty baby blue dress. 

“jesus, you look incredible,” the brunette hummed, eyes racking across your body that the dress hugged in all the right places. you flushed at his comment, spinning to face him. 

“you think so?” 

he stepped further into the bathroom, hands snaking around your waist just low enough that his hands grazed the top of your ass. a lazy smiled painted his lips as he continued drinking in your appearance. 

“can’t wait to let everyone know you’re mine tonight,” the boy pressed a soft, yet passionate kiss to your lips. 

you smiled into the kiss, squeezing his chin between your fingers as his hands drifted lower. a giggle left your lips at his boyish behavior, pulling him off your lips which was instantly met with a pout that you pulled him off. 

“we better go, soon, yeah? don’t wanna be late,” you tapped your fingers against his cheek. 

“you’re 100% sure you’re ready? i don’t want it to be too much too soon. there’s probably gonna be cameras everywhere and people shouting questions,” jack knew events like these had reporters and journalists everywhere trying to catch glimpses of their lives. he didn’t want to bring you into all of it unless he knew you could take it. 

“i’m sure, baby. i’ve got thick skin,” you smiled. 

“i know you do, but sometimes those people can be real assholes,” jack’s worry was cute. you cupped his cheeks, pressing a delicate kiss to his forehead. 

“at least i’ll have you with me then,” your confidence eased some of jack’s worries. he kissed you one last time before dragging the both of you out of the bedroom. 

“about time. thought i’d have to bang on the door or something,” luke snickered, jumping up from his place on the couch. 

“real funny, luke. let’s go or else we’re late,” jack grabbed everyone’s jackets, his antsy side coming out as he rushed his brother and girlfriend out of the apartment. 

the ride into downtown was uneventful. jack’s aux music helped ease some of your nerves as his car approached the venue which was indeed packed with people already at the front. you found yourself squeezing jack’s hand rested atop your knee a bit tighter seeing all those people feet away. jack quickly met your gaze. 

“feeling okay?” the boy wondered. 

“i’m fine. just nervous,” you said. 

“we can go in through the back if you don’t wanna do this. that’s perfectly fine with me,” jack gave you a quick ultimatum, but you shook your head. 

“it will be fine, jacky. promise,” he studied your expression a bit longer before deciding that you were gonna be okay. 

he pulled his car into the line, allowing the valet to take his keys as the three of you climbed out. jack met you on your side, holding his arm out for you to latch onto. your hands squeezed around his bicep as he took the lead, luke trailing behind you guys. the fans and reporters spotted the three of you immediately, quickly shouting to get your attention. 

“jack! is that your girlfriend?” 

“oh my god, he has a girlfriend??” 

“over here! let me get a picture!” 

the two of you posed for some pictures, jack’s hold tightening around your waist as the photographers snapped away, marking the public debut of your relationship. you weren’t sure how your boyfriend was feeling, but you felt in the clouds. so many people were reaching out for you or jack, wanting his signature or to just talk to him for a few seconds. sometimes you forgot this was his life—so flashy, so surreal—yet you loved it. 

he began pulling you down to carpet where security held the doors open for the guys. you waved to the fans one last time before disappearing inside the arena. jack glanced over at you, his expression a bit unreadable. 

“okay?” he wondered almost nervously. your large smile immediately eased his worries though as you latched back onto his arm. 

“god, you’re so cool. i knew you were popular, but i didn’t realize how popular,” your laugh brought a smile to the boy’s lips. 

“i’m glad you approve. it seems like everyone else does, too,” jack pecked your lips before dragging your further into the event to find his friends. 

the two of you quickly found nico and holtzy. both guys smiled widely when they saw their teammate and his girl on his arms. you smiled, watching jack greet them with friendly hugs. “didn’t know you were bringing your girl out,” nico hummed, giving you a gentle hug once jack finished. 

“thought it was time we go public,” jack pulled you back into his side, a proud smile on his lips that people finally knew about the girl he’s been loving for months. 

“wow, didn’t know hughes could become so lovey,” holtz teased, roughing up jack’s arm. your boyfriend brushed the comments off despite the small blush coating his cheeks. 

“whatever. you guys want some drinks? first round’s on me,” the brunette smiled. the guys cheered as they followed your boyfriend to the bar, ordering the entire team the first round of shots. 

you spent the rest of the night clinging to jack’s side, but neither of you minded. his arm was hooked around your waist no matter what, not letting you move too far away from him. you could tell he was enjoying himself knowing the big smile on his lips didn’t come out often unless he was around you or his teammates. jack adored all of them, even when they chirped on him, and he couldn’t be happier getting to spend the night with you too. 

even if you were just eye candy on jack’s arm, you didn’t care. getting to spend time with your boyfriend in his element was your favorite thing. 

as the night winded down, photos from earlier were released on social media. you peaked over jack’s shoulder as he scrolled through the pictures, smiling when he came across the ones of you two. there were a few of both of you smiling and one where jack’s eyes were on you when you weren’t looking. there was a lot of love in his eyes that made your heart just burst. 

“who knew we cleaned up so nice,” you teased. jack looked over at you, eyes bright. 

“so you think it went okay then?” 

“i think they liked me. do you think it went okay?” you wondered, brushing some of his hair away from his forehead. 

“i think it went amazing. i’m glad you came out tonight, it was a lot of fun,” jack leaned over, kissing your cheek. 

“thanks for bringing me, handsome. i hope i can come along again,” with that, the hockey player placed a more passionate kiss on your lips. your fingers tangled into his hair, twisting the locks around while his own hand cupped the side of your cheek. 

neither of you cared that you were in public. the booth you sat in tucked you guys away into a corner that almost created your own space away from everyone else. jack deepened the kiss even more as he slipped his tongue inside of your mouth, but the moment was short lived. 

“jesus, you guys are so gross. can we leave soon?” luke stood at the end of the table in disgust. 

he was such a little brother with his snarky comments. you giggled, but jack didn’t find his brother as amusing. 

“hold your horses. we’ve got all night,” jack said. 

the younger boy only rolled his eyes, shuffling away like a little kid. jack’s attention turned back to you, eyes still bright with love and lust. 

“now, where were we?” 

[ericshoney]

Party girl ~ Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Matt goes to one of Tara's party with Nick and Chris, only to find interest in the quiet girl in the kitchen.

Warnings: probably swearing, fluff, alcohol mentioned

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Matt didn't want to go to Tara's party, he wasn't in the mood. However, like most times, Chris and Nick persuaded him to go, and here he was, driving to her place.

"Can't I just go home and pick you both up later?" He suggested.

"No Matt!" Chris shouted.

"Come on, let's go." Nick said.

Matt sighed as he followed his brothers towards the loud and lively house. Music was blasting out and many people were already drinking and dancing.

The trio walked into the house, greeting a few people as they walked and soon found the host in the kitchen, drinking a bottle of beer. She smiled once she saw the identical three.

"Hey guys! I'm so glad you all could make it!" She exclaimed, emphasising the all, thinking Matt wasn't going to show.

"We're all happy to be here." Chris said, throwing his brother a cheeky smile.

"Yeah, fucking ecstatic." Matt grumbled, earning a slap from Nick, who was the only one who heard.

"Well there's soda in the fridge, help yourselves!" Tara cheered, rushing off to greet some more guests who had arrived.

Nick went over to the fridge and grabbed three sodas, passing them to Chris and Matt. The three quietly watched the party go on before heading to mingle. Matt followed behind Nick, throwing the odd word in here and there with a conversation.

But as Nick was chatting away to Larray, Matt glanced around, his focus soon being drawn to the kitchen where a girl sat on the kitchen counter and Tara next to her.

Matt's feet worked quicker than his brain and he drifted from Nick and headed to the kitchen. Tara noticed his presence first and smiled.

"Hey Matt, I have the female equivalent of you here." She said with a small laugh.

Matt looked at the girl who was still sat on the counter, a can of coke in her hand, a blank expression on her face.

"Fuck off." She grumbled.

"Matt this is Y/n, Y/n meet Matt, he's not really a party fan either." Tara introduced.

"Nice to meet you." Matt said, offering a hand to the quiet girl.

She silently shook his hand, a small smile making a way to her face.

"I'll be right back....Jake get the fuck down your way to drunk!" Tara shouted, running off to her friend.

Matt chuckled slightly and lent against the counter next to Y/n. The girl quietly sipped her drink, swaying her feet softly.

"So....not much of a talker?" Matt asked carefully.

"Not really....sorry." She answered.

"No it's okay. I'm the same really, only talking around my brothers." He replied.

"Too loud as well." She admitted.

Matt looked around and saw the backyard was fairly empty. He nodded his head that way, looking at the girl.

"Want to get some air?" He suggested.

Y/n nodded and hopped off the counter, following the slightly taller male towards the outdoor space. Both sitting on the sofa, relaxing slightly.

"Is that better?" Matt asked.

"Yeah, thank you." She replied.

"So, how do you know Tara?" Matt questioned, trying to break the ice.

"We've been friends for years, I just moved back to LA a week ago." She answered.

"Oh that's cool, did you move in with Tara then?" He responded.

"No, I got my own apartment down the street, but I'm here most of the time." She replied with a small giggle.

He chuckled and smiled, nodding at her reply. The two feel quiet for a bit before Y/n spoke up again.

"If your not a party guy, what made you come here?" She asked.

"My brothers, Chris and Nick. I've avoided many parties but they persuaded me to come. Now I'm here I'm actually happy." He answered.

"How come?" She questioned, tilting her head slightly.

"Cause I got to meet you." He replied, smiling at the girl.

Y/n smiled as the two continued getting to know each other. Both were smiling and laughing, coming out of their shells, not realising what the time was. Soon Chris and Nick came out, seeing their brother chatting and smiling with the unknown girl.

"Hey Matt, you ready to go home?" Nick asked, drawing his attention away.

"Oh uh yeah. Text me?" Matt replied, turning his attention back to Y/n.

She smiled and nodded as Matt left with his brothers, the three getting back in the car and driving home quietly.

"So...who's the girl?" Chris asked as they arrived home.

"Y/n, a friend of Tara's. She's really cool and sweet." Matt replied, smiling happily.

Nick and Chris both shared a look, smiling at each other.

"So, happy we dragged you to the party?" Nick asked.

"Very happy." Matt nodded.

At the start of the night, Matt was unhappy to go to Tara's party, now after meeting Y/n, he was much happier to make a new friend and maybe something more in the future.

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

How much of our scientific thinking has an unconscious religious bias?

This is in response to this post, from @headspace-hotel, about campaigns to eradicate Hybrid Cattails as an "Invasive Species," even though both individual species hybridizing themselves are native plants (But I didn't want to muddy a discussion about science with a rant about religion. So: a separate post it is)

I sometimes wonder if our dominant views of "natural vs. unnatural/invasive" were shaped, are shaped, by the particular theologies of Protestant Christianity...

You Know, the theology that teaches / believes:

Our world was created by a single, all-knowing god

Humanity Fell by disobeying that god, and thus tainted the world with Sin (so Humans are now apart from Nature [aka the Garden of Eden])

The Protestant Christians fetishized the North American Continent as an example of what Eden was like "Before the Fall," and the people who were already living here were Noble Savages.*

So now, anything that evolves in response to human influence (such as brackish cattails hybridizing with freshwater cattails), is considered "unnatural," as if it's been tainted by our sin.

I sometimes wonder what our environmental understanding would be like in an alternate universe where the sciences had evolved in a polytheistic culture.** Would we be more generally accepting of the idea of coexisting forces constantly intertwining, and changing, rather than there being a single, fixed, "pure" world, that must be protected from contamination?

[BTW. I've become an atheist in this last third of my life, so I don't think any one religion is "more true" than any other: they're all metaphors that help us frame and understand the actual world we live in; they are very powerful metaphors, and for some, can be helpful and emotionally healthy ... for others, not so much.]

*(even though the abundant environment the colonizers found here was actually deliberately managed and curated by humans -- it's just that it wasn't managed in the form of fenced off square plots, and straight rows of crops).

**If you don't believe scientific thinking can evolve within a polytheistic paradigm, check out (what survives of) the writings of Democritus and Epicurus. Their philosophies weren't following what we now consider the Scientific Method, but they were already drifting in that direction.

[interdimensionaltales]

Drifting back to you

Pairing: Halbrand/Sauron x reader

Word Count: 981

Warnings: besides not having been beta, for now, none. (this will probably change in the future)

Summary: What if you were on a quest to figure out why you're so different from your kind and ended up stranded at sea with Sauron himself disguised as a mortal Southlander? What is it that sets you apart? Can you find the answers and accept yourself? Why is Sauron, the most powerful sorcerer in the world, pretending to be a commoner? Trying to forget? Binding his time? Pretending nothing happened? On top of that, there's a force that brings you two together and keeps you both drifting back to each other again and again no matter how much he, or you both, try to deny it. And the power that he feels coming from you may be it or it may be love. That's what you both need to figure out.

PS: This probably has been done before, the idea is not revolutionary. I read a lot of fic, but my ship is Haladriel and other fandoms so I've never read anything like this and I'm a little bitch for someone powerful meeting their equal and questioning everything so... Here we are.

This is the first time I'm trying to write my own, please be kind, but feedback and advice are welcomed. English is not my first language. This fic is intended to be multichaptered, but I figured I'd post what I came up with first to see if I could get a boost or the very least some feedback that would help me to get to a full fic. Anyway, let me know if you guys think it has potential! Thanks for reading!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

There wasn't much that could bring you comfort in a strange land, with strange people and their customs. After what you have been through, one would think that any comfort would do. Being stranded at sea has a way of making people seek out the best that life has to offer once back on land, but for you, there wasn't much to find beside the company of the one you were stranded with. Halbrand. The tall brunette, with his calm stance and inquisitive eyes that came to be so familiar now. No matter what wonders you would find on this so-called island of Númenor, you always ended up drifting back to him. So there you were again at his shores.

''It's been a fortnight now, Halbrand,'' you said, pulling out a stool at one of the bar's table, sitting in defeat.'' A fortnight, they said we would be given a chance to get into a guild. What are they waiting for? What's taking so long? What are we supposed to do meanwhile?''

''Enjoy our stay.'' he replied, amusement plastered on his face when he saw the look on yours.

''I have, and now I'm ready to do something more meaningful. '' You sighed. You were so tired of this aimless days filled with ale and idle time. You couldn't wait anymore, you needed answers, you needed to understand what was happening to you and the only way to do that was to get into that tower, the library. ''There has to be a way to speed things up.'' you said and rested your face on your hands.

He looked at you with those lazy eyes, a soft gaze but ever inquisitive. Why were you so set on getting a job? It couldn't be just boredom, otherwise, you would have taken on any other jobs available. It has to be the tower, but what do you want to find there? You were rubbing your face in frustration but that didn't tell him any more than he already knew so he drank the rest of the content in his cup and spoke again.

''There are many ways,'' he said standing up, ''You just need to know how far are you willing to go.''

He gestured to you ''Let's go for a walk.''

Halbrand knew. He knew that whatever it was that he was feeling didn't have space in his life or in him right now. It never had, it couldn't have. He was given a second chance at peace if you could call it given. He should have just left, he should have started putting some distance between you two a while ago, nothing good comes from wanting more than you can have, even worse, deserve it. But there he was, walking around with you, listening to you, being captivated by you, and far worse, wanting to help you get what you want. So he stayed, just a while longer, he did indeed tell you to enjoy things a bit more, he was just following his own advice and basking in your presence while he could ignore that gnawing feeling in him. The one that kept telling him how starved he was of something only you could give him.

''Where are we going?'' You asked taking him out of his reverie. He looked at you and licked his lips, a reminiscence of those unwanted feelings still lingering in his mind and the thought of where you both could go flooded him making it harder to shove those feelings down.

''We are going to speed things up'' He said making his way into the busy streets. ''More often than not, life is nothing but a trade, ''he continued. ''If you want something you need to know what to give in return.''

''Halbrand,'' you called struggling to keep up, ''We can't buy our crest, there's nothing we can give in re-- Sorry.'' you said bumping into a stranger, which made you fall behind a bit so you rushed to catch up with him. ''Even if we could,'' you continued zigzagging your way into the crowd so you were just a couple steps behind him, ''We don't have any-'' when he turned around and you ran into him, your face right into his chest. ''-money.'' He held you in place by your arms, balancing you. People going around you both in the crowd. You were never this close to him before. Sure, on the raft, you had to sleep side by side for the lack of space, but nothing like this. You were so close you could taste the salt on his skin, he smelled of smoke, leather, and iron. You were just about to evaporate into smoke too if it wasn't for the feeling of those callous hands on your skin, condensing you into form. Taking a sharp breath, you looked at him. He was looking down, his gaze fixed on your face. A battle raging in his hazy eyes

The way you were pressed against him made him never want to let you go, he had barely managed to shove those feelings down, and with one touch of you, he was lost in it again. What was this? All he could think about was how he wanted to keep touching you. The softness of your skin was a foreign concept to him, nothing in his later life has ever felt like this. It made him think of before, of the beginning. Enough! This is madness. There's no going back and no way this could work. It took all the strength in him to let go of you. It's a waste of time, he thought, there's no way I deserve this. ''Let's go'' he said, but took your hand nonetheless, guiding you through the crowd.

[sidekick-hero]

I'm a fool (for you)

Written for the Stranger Things Writers Guild daily drabble, prompt was 'meet ugly'. I don't know what happened here. warnings: implied cheating (not steddie) | tags: meet ugly, hurt Eddie, emotional hurt/comfort, love at first sight with the worst timing, hopeful ending | 1.2k | AO3

April is Eddie's favorite month.

Winter is finally over and spring is breathing life back into the world. With the colors of spring, happiness seeped back into people's hearts.

As Eddie walks home from work, whistling his favorite tune, his heart swells with it. The sun still shines brightly, a gentle breeze carries the scent of cherry blossoms from the nearby park, and tucked in his pocket is his very first bonus check. He can't wait to tell David, the exhilaration of a beautiful day gives him hope that maybe they can have a nice evening with some wine and dinner before falling into bed together. It's been a while, and he knows it's partly because he works so much, but lately he feels like he and David are drifting apart.

Determined to surprise David with some quality time together, Eddie plans to come home early. Perhaps they could even use the extra money for a vacation, he thinks with a smile on his face.

Filled with hope and happiness, Eddie opens the door to their apartment, only to be greeted by a sight that shatters both.

A stranger, clad in nothing but black boxer briefs, stands in their bedroom doorway.

"I'm such a fool," Eddie murmurs, blinking at the unexpected sight of an almost-naked Adonis standing in the doorway to the room he shares with the man Eddie thought loved him.

The stranger mirrors his shock. "You're not David.”

A mirthless laugh escapes Eddie's lips. "No, I'm Eddie. His boyfriend. Or rather, ex-boyfriend. Guess he forgot to mention me, huh?"

When the man just buries his face in his hands and groans, "I'm such a fucking fool," Eddie almost feels sorry for him.

Almost, because it's his heart that's just been broken.

"Looks like we both are," he agrees with the stranger. He really is beautiful. Eddie can see why David went for him, he just wishes he hadn't.

"I swear, I had no idea David had a boyfriend or I never would have gone home with him. I'm so, so sorry."

The guy looks sincere and Eddie believes him. After all, it was David who decided to trample on their relationship. It must suck to be drawn into the drama of Eddie's imploding relationship, less cause and more casualty.

Closing the door behind him, Eddie steps fully into the apartment. "I believe you -" he pauses here, waiting for the man to tell him his name.

"Steve."

"I believe you, Steve. Where's David, by the way?"

"Buying condoms," he admits sheepishly, and Eddie rubs his hands over his face.

"Of course. How awfully considerate of him." Steve winces at Eddie's tone, but he's too tired to care. He takes a moment to think about what to do next. "I think it's best if you get dressed and leave now, I doubt you'll want to be here when David gets back. To be honest, I don't want to either, but I guess there's not much of a choice."

Steve looks at him silently for a second before turning and going back into the bedroom, presumably to get dressed. Eddie sighs and heads over to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. He's going to need it.

He's thinking about where he could stay tonight when Steve comes into the kitchen, now dressed in tight, light-washed Levi's and a white shirt that looks painted on. Eddie can even see the dark chest hair through it.

It's hard not to hate Steve for making Eddie feel even more inadequate.

"I know you want me to go, but if it's okay with you, I'd rather stay? Just to make sure you're okay. I've been cheated on before and I know what it's like to feel like the rug has been pulled out from under you. You shouldn't have to deal with it alone."

It's hard to hate Steve when he's so kind to Eddie.

"Do I look so pathetic that I need the man my boyfriend cheated on me with to comfort me?" He spits, more out of self-preservation than anything else. Anger is so much easier to deal with than heartbreak.

Steve's response, however, is gentle. "You look like someone just broke your heart and you could use a friend. It doesn't have to be me, I can take you to one of your friends. I just don't think you should be alone right now." With that, Steve walks over to the coffee machine and pours out a cup. "Sugar? Cream?"

Eddie plops down on one of the kitchen chairs in defeat. "Both. More sugar."

Steve prepares their coffee and then they wait for David to get back. When he does, clearly shocked to find his boyfriend and his hookup in the same room, they both confront him. Steve has Eddie's back the whole time and gets downright mean to David, while Eddie is mostly tired and disappointed. After their confrontation, Steve waits for Eddie to pack some of his things and, as promised, drives Eddie over to Chrissy's apartment.

They park in front of her building and Eddie thanks Steve for everything he's done for him, but before he can get out, Steve takes Eddie's hand and squeezes it.

"I'm really sorry, Eddie. Nobody deserves to get cheated on and I hate that it happened to you. I can understand if you want to be mad at me or forget I even exist, but if you ever need to talk, even if it's just about how small David's dick is, I'm here, okay?"

In the palm of his hand, Eddie feels a piece of paper, and he's pretty sure it's Steve's number.

"Why?"

Steve reaches over and tucks a lock of Eddie's hair behind his ear. "You'll probably think I'm weird, but I feel like I almost know you. It sounds crazy, I know, I know. I can’t explain it. I just want you to be happy, and I can't help but want to be the person who makes that happen."

At Eddie's stunned silence, he hastily adds, "Oh God, I sound like a crazy person. Or worse, a psycho stalker. I promise, I'm neither. And that's exactly what a psycho stalker would say, for Christ's sake. Please say something before I put my foot any further in my mouth."

This makes Eddie laugh again, and this time it doesn't sound bitter. Just a little confused, but mostly fond.

"Thank you, Steve. Really. I appreciate it. You... I have no idea what I'm feeling right now, or what I'm going to do, but you've made this totally fucked up evening suck less, and for that alone I don't want to forget that you exist or be mad at you. I just need some time, y'know?"

Steve's smile is warm, if a little sad. "I do. You should. Take your time, I mean. I really wish we'd met differently."

"Me too. Believe me."

Eddie starts to get out of the car again, and this time Steve doesn't stop him. Just watches him, his hazel eyes shining brightly in the light of the street lamp.

"Take care, Eddie."

"You too, Steve."

As Eddie climbs the stairs to Chrissy's apartment, he saves Steve's number in his phone.

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

James (Paul McCartney x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hello! I've decided I have to make a chapter fic for Paulie because I'm in love with him. There are gonna be at LEAST 6 chapters in this fic, so there will be plenty more coming! Stick around, like and comment, and let me know if you want to be tagged when I release more chapters of this!

I want to personally thank my editor @strawb3rri-le for helping me make these ideas come into fruition. Literally cannot do this without you <3

Summary: Paul meets a pretty girl in the library one day, and is elated to find out she is oblivious to who he actually is.

This fic is written in third person from Paul's perspective, which is kind of different to how I normally write my x readers, so it might be a little jarring to read at first, but I just wanted to try something a little different :)

WARNINGS: I'm not certain I wrote any curse words in this one, but I'll say there is just to be on the safer side. Mentions of mushrooms/ fungi; not drug-related, but I figured I'd add that because some people don't like them. I use Y/n like 4 times in here around the end it drives me nuts, but it has to happen. I don't think there's much else.

This one is pretty safe, if I could rate it lower I would, but I'll mark it at T just to be on the safe side.

Paul could have watched the heavy raindrops hit the window pane for hours and hours. the grey clouds drifting in the sky above brought nothing but heavy showers to the streets of London that dark afternoon...

But that's not what he came to the library for.

He came here for some peace and quiet.

He wanted to get some more songwriting done, but the apartment didn't seem to be the place for it that day, and everywhere else just appeared to be crawling with girls. As much as Paul liked girls, he didn't want to be noticed, because then his day would have simply consisted of him trying to escape the hoards that would have started chasing after him.

The library felt like it made the most sense. People were there to read, study, keep to themselves; not to socialize with others and be loud. As long as he found a little private area to sit, he knew he wouldn't be bothered at all. He also figured, if he couldn't come up with any song ideas, he had tens of thousands of books to refer to for inspiration.

And that was the situation Paul was in at that moment. He'd been sitting in his little study nook for a while now, just staring blankly at his notebook, or out the window next to him. Usually the words came flowing from his mind, translated by his hand and onto the paper, yet that particular day, nothing seemed to be inspiring him.

He rose to his feet after a while, notebook shoved under his arm as he wandered off into one of the aisles nearest to him. He wasn't looking for any book in particular. Sometimes he'd just pull one off the shelf, flip to a random page, and read a random sentence in the middle of the text. If it seemed to be interesting enough to inspire even a single line in a song, Paul would use it. If not, off to the next book.

He began to do just that, with older books with worn spines, and newer books with colourful covers. Unfortunately, even after the fourth or fifth book he pulled from the aisle he was in, no inspiration seemed to manifest from what he was reading. He sighed as he pushed the book he was holding back into its place on the shelf before he made his way to the next aisle over.

Paul began repeating what he was doing before, reaching for a book, and flipping through the pages. This particular book, he cut three separate times, and not one sentence seemed to draw any kind of innovation for his songwriting.

Once again, Paul shoved the book back onto the shelf. As he stared ahead at all of the different pieces of literature before him, one book in particular seemed to catch his eye. It was green, with gold accents on the bevelling as well as the raised parts of the spine. Without a second thought, he reached up for it, only for his fingers to come into contact with someone else's.

Paul drew his hand back and glanced to his right, where a young woman about his age stood. He held his breath, fully expecting an overreaction from her at his presence.

Instead, she smiled awkwardly at him, her hand also drawn back close to her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were after that one," she explained gently, and Paul blinked, raising a confused eyebrow before looking back to that specific book. After a moment, he pulled it down off the shelf and examined the cover, the golden text embossed into the front cover reading 'Europe's Most Common Mushrooms, and Fungi: A Field Guide'.

"Do you like learning about Mycology as well?" She asked curiously, and Paul's gaze shot up to her face, eyes squinting a little at her question.

He was half confused on what she was honestly asking him, but he was also kind of surprised she wasn't pointing and shouting at the fact that she found a Beatle in public.

"... Mycology?" He asked back sheepishly, and her awkward smile warmed up a little at his question. She pointed at the book cover before responding with another question. "You know, the study of mushrooms, and fungi?"

Paul's eyes dropped back down to the book before cracking it open and flipping to a random page as he was doing with all the others. A beautifully illustrated picture of a mushroom with a porous underside presented itself to the young man, and his eyebrows furrowed at the image.

"That is a Boletus Edulis," she explained quietly to him. "It's a tasty gourmet mushroom found in Europe, as well as in North America."

Paul looked back up to her briefly before returning to the book and flipping to another page, a red capped mushroom with white spots being the next image to catch his eye.

"Ooh, and that one there is an Amanita Muscaria, also known as the Fly Agaric. It received its name back in the day because grinding it up and putting it in window sills and doorways would repel flies from entering your home."

"... You sure know your mushrooms, huh?" Paul asked carefully, rather impressed with the few bits of information provided to him by this stranger.

"It's definitely a good hobby to get into. Nothing beats going out onto the trail and foraging them for dinner." She paused briefly before adding, "I mean... the boletes are fine, but perhaps not the amanitas." 

Paul closed the book up again before taking a final glance at the front cover.

"I'm uh... sort of grabbing books at random, looking for something inspiring. There needn't be a reason to hang onto this if you need it," Paul explained, presenting it to her so she could take it, and her fingers accidentally brushed against his once again as she took it from him.

The graze was so gentle, yet Paul felt his cheeks warm up at the contact. She was awfully pretty, he decided to himself in silence as he watched the look of joy on her face appear when she flipped the book open herself. She stopped on a page containing a drawing of a white mushroom dripping black ink at its edges.

Paul couldn't help but double take the image. To think there was so much about the world he didn't know a thing about... it made him feel so small, and insignificant.

She must have noticed his gaze on the page, and figured she'd teach him about one more specimen. "These ones," she began, with a rather excited exhale, turning the book Paul's way so he could see, "are Shaggy Mane mushrooms. They are edible and good, as long as you haven't consumed alcohol for a few days prior to, and post consumption. Then they'd be quite toxic."

She smiled at the tidbit and looked up to Paul's face, nose crinkling a little. "Isn't that just the neatest thing?"

Paul couldn't believe what he was hearing. He never really thought about mushrooms before. Sure, he'd seen brown and white ones before in the grass, or growing on trees, but there was something about the way she relayed the information with such passion, that just made it so interesting to him. It was unlike anything he ever experienced before.

"... You have a very natural way of describing this sort of stuff," Paul expressed, nodding his head to her positively. "I honestly never realized there were so many different ones."

"Oh, what I've told you doesn't even scratch the surface of the world of Mycology," she explained, the smile only growing on her face, and Paul couldn't help but smile back at her.

"... I should really leave to let you continue on with what you were doing," she said after a moment. "I do appreciate you listening to my ramblings. I know I can sometimes get carried away with this sort of stuff," her smile fell away a little. "Not many really care about fungi, so it's nice to talk about my interests with someone who's willing to listen."

Paul's own smile began to falter, rather upset that such a pleasant conversation, with such a pleasant person, had to end so soon. He hadn't encountered such a normal discussion in so long. Not that a conversation about mushrooms and fungi was normal, but Paul felt it was just so refreshing talking about anything but him and his fame.

"... well, I rather enjoyed what you had to say," he admitted lightly, an undeniable blush flourishing from the woman's cheeks as she appeared to smile again, a little brighter than before.

"Well... thank you, again. You're very kind," she repeated, waving her hand kindly as she turned on her heel and wandered off to the next aisle.

Paul's eyes watched her round the corner, and he stood there in disbelief. There was so much for him to unpack in his thoughts in that very moment.

She had to have been one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen; minding her own business in a library by herself, and doing something she really enjoyed. Her intelligence on the subject showed through her excited rambling, which Paul could have listened to for much, much longer.

Her voice was so pleasant, happiness apparent in her words as she described every species effortlessly, as if she'd known it all since the day she was born. It left him wanting to hear more from her.

But the cherry on top of all of this, was that she didn't even acknowledge Paul as anything but another human being. Not some big musician with whom she obsessed over just because of his looks. For someone who remained so calm, and pleasant in conversation, Paul was certain she had no clue who he actually was.

And he loved that.

As much as fame brought excitement to his existence, Paul couldn't deny that the concept of a simple, normal life with someone who loved him for him, and not his popularity to the public, was something he seemed to yearn for more often as of late.

He loved the idea of being a nobody, especially to someone he wanted to be somebody to.

He looked over his shoulder to the empty space where that green and gold book once sat, deciding to reach for the one sitting next to it. It happened to be another book on mushrooms and fungi, but it had a lot more words in it than images. He flipped to the middle of the book and read the fist word he saw.

Symbiosis.

He felt dumb staring at the word. He knew there was only one person he could ask to inquire about what it meant. He glanced up through the bookshelves, eyes searching through the gaps of the works to find her.

She only happened to be in the next aisle over, scanning the book titles off the spines above her head carefully, too in her own world to notice Paul's obvious staring through the shelving units. She pulled a book down and read the summary on the back, Paul watching her eyelashes flit lower and lower as she absorbed the words like a sponge in water.

He noticed that as she read, her lips gently mouthed each word, and he soon found himself stuck in a trance. He observed how her tongue poked out between her teeth to mouth words with the letter L, and how her lips would press tightly together as she read words containing B, and M.

Who would have thought, Paul wondered, something so small could be so hypnotizing?

She made a small face of approval to the book before stacking it on top of the green one she was given by him, and she headed over to an empty table in the corner of the room. She faced towards the shelves, back to the wall so she could see the whole library from her spot.

Despite this, as soon as she made herself comfortable, she was solely focussed on the books, and her dominant hand wrote out her notes almost romantically, notebook pages filling effortlessly with information that brought her joy.

Paul was absolutely mesmerized by her movements. Screw the rain, he could have watched her for hours. He couldn't get over the little flick of her wrist when she ended a point, or the wonderful silent motion of her lips reading out the words.

She drove him mad in the best kind of way.

She flipped to the next page in her notebook, and Paul came back down to earth, realizing then just how creepy he must have appeared, standing close to the shelf, and peering through to the other side to watch the woman simply minding her own business from afar.

His shoes felt like they were filled with cement, but he worked up enough courage to slowly move towards her table, opting to stand by a nearby shelf and stare blankly at the spines as to not look so awkward.

What would I even say to her? was the only thought at the forefront of Paul's mind, the black mushroom book still in his hand, one of his fingers wedged between the pages to mark where that silly word was. He knew he was going to ask her about it, but he needed to smoothly segue into it, somehow.

This situation was rather a bother to Paul. He felt conflicted as to why he seemed so nervous about approaching her. He was a flirt, and he loved making girls feel giddy, why would this stranger be any different?

He was close enough that he could have called for her attention, but her focus was faithfully undivided, completely oblivious to Paul standing only fifteen feet away from her, trying to muster up the nerve to say something, anything.

After talking to her for only a minute and a half, and having parted ways for not even five more, Paul found himself deprived of her voice, longing to hear anything roll off her tongue, as long as it were to him. He was pining to have her attention so badly, but standing and admiring her from only a couple of steps away was only going to get him so far.

His palms were sweaty, and he wiped them on his pants haphazardly as he took a deep breath. He took one more second to nod his head positively for motivation, and he stepped out into the open, facing her completely. His heart pounded in his chest, but he pushed himself to take one more step forward. And that happened to be enough for her to notice.

The stranger raised her gaze up to Paul, the look of neutral concentration on her face softening into a pleasant smile.

Just that made Paul weak in the knees.

"Find anything inspiring yet?" She asked him in a friendly tone, eyeing the book in his hand as his thoughts flatlined. He didn't expect her to speak first. On the one hand, he was relieved that it indicated she was okay with talking to him, but on the other, it put him off-script, and now he had to actually use his brain to initiate discussion.

"I uh..." he struggled for a moment, glancing down at the book in his hand, as well.

"If I'm going to be quite honest... you talking about mushrooms so passionately was pretty inspiring. It's all I can think about."

The woman's eyebrows arched in surprise, a gentle dusting of pink spreading over her nose as she took in his words. She toyed her bottom lip between her teeth, and Paul couldn't help but drop his gaze for just a second to admire her mouth.

"You know, I'm really flattered that you said that," she expressed gently. "That means a great deal to me. Thank you."

Paul couldn't even feel his legs now, basking in her praise, as a flower would to the rays of sun on a warm spring day.

"... I couldn't help but grab another book like the one you're reading," he explained, lifting it up to show her, and the apples of her cheeks rounded as she smiled even wider. Paul hadn't ever recalled seeing such a beautiful face before.

"I... I saw a word I don't know. I think you're the only person who can help me." The confession made Paul feel a little self-conscious; he didn't want to seem entirely stupid in front of her, but she really didn't seem the type to make fun of him over something like this, and really damage his ego.

Without a word, she pulled the chair out next to her as a silent indication for Paul to take a seat, and he took the offer graciously. He set his notebook down onto the table, and then opened the book to where his finger marked the page cut. She leaned in a little to peer down at the text, and he pointed to the word, realizing only seconds after just how close she was to him. He could smell the faintness of her body wash, and it made his head swirl.

"... This one." He mumbled, watching her in his peripheral as she read the sentence in her head, and physically mouthing the words as her eyes tracked each letter.

"Ah, symbiosis. It basically means two different organisms are benefitting off each other in some way or another. We would be a good example of this, right now," she offered, tilting her head up to look at Paul, who's ears burned hot at the eye contact, but he kept strong and held it for as long as she wanted to look at him.

"You're keeping me pleasant company, and in return, I'm helping you learn about fungi." He thought her point was going to end there, but she quickly added on, "from a natural standpoint, fungi and trees have a symbiotic relationship. If it weren't for the millions of miles of fungal network underground, connecting all the living organisms together, plants wouldn't be able to communicate to each other, or convert their energy from one to the other to achieve optimal growth."

"So... everything would die without fungi?" Paul asked slowly.

"I believe so," she nodded her head. "They play a role in every step of a plant's life. Take a tree, for example."

She slid the green and gold book over to sit between them, and she flipped through the first few pages until she found a diagram of a tree's life cycle, pointing to the images as she rambled on.

"Fungi help them establish strong roots when they're young. Some fungi actually provide nutrients in the soil for the trees to use as energy to grow tall and strong."

She turned her gaze back to Paul. "Even at the end, if a mother tree is dying, she will begin to use the fungal networks below to disperse her energy to her kin, sacrificing herself so they can grow, instead. They use the networks underground to communicate in their own special way."

The young man appeared to be in a dream-like state, head in his palm as he looked on in favour of her words. But when he noticed she stopped speaking after a while, he blinked, finding she was smiling a little awkwardly again, as if she'd asked him a question.

"Hm?" He asked, propped hand dropping to the table. He felt rather guilty his attention diverted.

"... I'm boring you, aren't I?" There was a hint of sadness in her words, a weak smile at her lips, and Paul shook his head quickly.

"No, no! Believe me, I'm listening." He thought for a beat, face going warm again as he confessed, "I just... I really love the sound of your voice. You have a way with words, and I did get a little distracted by that." The young woman's face fell expressionless, and Paul continued.

"I may be rather daft on the subject, but there's just something in the way you talk about it that makes learning about it so much more enjoyable. Please, don't stop talking."

She opened her mouth to say something, but she shut it as she pondered what to respond to Paul with. Her face was flushed, and she was holding back a grin, which ultimately made Paul a little confident considering he was the one that made her flustered.

"... You probably say that to all of the girls you talk to," she finally replied, eyes casting down to the books to hide her blush, and he couldn't help but bite back a smile of his own.

"Well, none of the other girls I know are quite like you," he stated with poise, eyes still locked in on her, hands clasping together as he noticed her blush deepen, and a smile finally breaking through.

Paul then attempted to downplay such a strong interaction. Despite talking to her the way he wanted to, he didn't want her to be uncomfortable with how forward he felt he was being.

"What does your boyfriend think about your hobbies?" He asked. "He must be so proud, and fascinated by how passionate you are about all of this stuff, surely."

She looked back up to Paul, her smile weakening a little. "Boyfriend? Oh I uh..." she cleared her throat. "I don't... I don't have one of those."

Paul's eyebrows lowered a little. "... As in you just got out of a relationship?" He tried to clarify, to which she shook her head.

"As in I've never really... had one." She had a sheepish look on her face, cheeks now red out of embarrassment rather than flattery. Her response sent Paul's eyebrows shooting up in surprise, to say the least.

"... Never?" He repeated in disbelief. She pressed her lips together in a line tightly, shaking her head once again.

"This," she gestured to the books with her hand, "is my life. It has been my life since my early teenage years. Mushrooms and fungi are... strange, and because I like them, I guess that makes me kind of strange, as well."

Her self-dejecting statement made Paul feel bad. In his mind, someone like her not being taken, though washing the feeling of relief throughout him, didn't add up at all. Not even her fascination in mushrooms made her odd, in his eyes.

"... If it means anything to you, I think you're just absolutely lovely," he said, watching as her lip pressed into a little pout as she regarded his words.

"I'm telling you... every guy out there has no idea what they're missing out on."

Paul desperately wished he could read minds; especially hers. She didn't speak, and Paul assumed that the was simply trying to grasp for some words to say. If he were in her position, he wouldn't have known what to say, either.

"For once in my life, someone has actually made me speechless," she confessed, huffing a sigh as she rubbed one of her cheeks, as if that would have made her blush disappear.

"I want to tell you thank you, but that doesn't feel like nearly enough," she explained. "Honestly, your girlfriend is very lucky to have such a charming boyfriend. You have a way with words, yourself." Her comment made Paul laugh, but only once. Inside his chest, his heart was doing somersaults, but he was trying his hardest to keep his composure.

"What girlfriend?"

The woman gasped at his response. "You lie," she accused, yet Paul knew it was all in good nature by the smile on her face. "Even if you were, with a face like that, there's no way you don't have girls chasing after you all the time."

How the tables have turned, Paul thought; a little excited he found himself in the same spot as her only moments after he made the same mistake. Part of him wanted to respond to her with something witty, like "who says I don't?", but the other part of him didn't want that to arouse any questions that would segue into a conversation regarding his job.

He couldn't risk having her know everything, and fall for the idea of him.

"I guess I just... haven't found the right bird yet." He figured that was another truth he could hold by without entirely lying to this poor woman.

"That's fair. Well, whoever has the pleasure of ending up with you is a very lucky woman, indeed." Paul's cheeks darkened again, the compliment making his fingers feel a little numb. He noticed her eyes drifting to the window above his head before she suddenly closed her books shut.

"The rain's stopped. This has been a rather lovely conversation, but I do apologize. I must be leaving now."

Paul felt his stomach drop, and his mouth fell agape, watching worriedly as she gathered her belongings and rose to her feet.

"What-- you're leaving? Right now?"

He felt the same way he did back in the aisle when she cut the conversation short, full of disappointment that it all had to come to an end again.

"I was on my way to my parents' house before the rain started," she explained with a lopsided smile. "I'm helping my mother prepare for dinner tonight, but the rain was so bad, I figured I'd spend some time in here while I waited for it to die down. And I'm very glad I made that decision."

Paul nodded his head, realizing the last part of what she said alluded to making his acquaintance. He also found he couldn't be upset at such a wonderful gesture of kindness, her going to her parents'. "That is very sweet of you to do that for her," he said gently, standing up as well before she disappeared again.

"Before you go," he started, feeling hot beneath the collar as he tried to gather a little bit more courage to speak, her expecting eyes on him making him rather anxious.

"I would like to keep in contact with you," he paused briefly, "only if you want. I just... I've had a really pleasant time talking with you, and learning about your interests, and I would very much like to do all of this again."

Her cheeks rounded out again as her smile widened a little more-- Paul couldn't get over that damned smile of hers.

"You know... I would like that a lot," she finally answered, glancing down at her notebook before flipping to the last page and ripping it out. She folded it in half, and then tore it at the line, handing Paul one of the halves while she began writing on the other one. Paul watched with a pounding heart as she scratched out her phone number, and he began to do the same.

When they exchanged the papers, Paul examined the number she provided him, and then read the name she printed above it, a smiley face drawn next to it. he tried his best to concealing his excitement within.

"Y/n..." he mumbled thoughtfully, eyes casting back up to look at her. She laughed a little as she flipped the paper in her hand to show Paul, which only contained his phone number.

"That's me, but what am I to call you, exactly?"

This is where Paul found himself in another dilemma. He wanted her to call him Paul, but he also didn't want her putting two and two together if she recognized his name. He didn't want to entirely lie to her, either.

That's when a light bulb went off in his head. He realized the greatest loophole, and solution was staring him right in the face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Paul reached for the paper again, scribbling his name at the top. But he wasn't using 'Paul'; he decided he was going to use his real first name.

"You can call me James," he explained, handing the paper back to her. She surveyed the name at the top of the paper before looking back up to him.

"Finally, a name to a face," she hummed in content. She then offered a hand out to Paul, to which he took so they could shake and say their farewells.

"It was an absolute pleasure meeting you, James."

It was the first time in a very long time Paul had been called that by anyone. He figured he would have hated the sound of it leaving her lips, but instead, it made his heart flutter. His face felt hot again, and it was apparent y/n could see the flush of his skin, because she smirked a little.

"The pleasure is all mine, Y/n. Please be safe." He finally let go of her hand, waving good bye as she did so as well, turning on her heel once again, and heading to the counter with her books to sign them out.

She slid Paul's phone number into her notebook as she walked away, and Paul just stood there for another moment as he watched her leave. He was was still feeling so many emotions now that he was alone, unable to help himself reaching back down to the piece of paper she gave him. He ran his fingers over her name and smiled a little to himself.

"Y/n..." her name was like a breath of fresh air to him. When he looked back up to catch one more glimpse of her, she was already gone. It made him feel a little empty, but when he noticed she left the black mushroom book for him, he felt just a little warmer inside.

Paul reached for the book, sliding her number into the pages, and deciding he was going to sign it out and try to learn a little on the subject. If they ever planned to meet in the future, he could try and impress her with some of the information he learned.

He didn't end up getting what he was looking for at the library, but he felt he was leaving with something he needed.

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A/A/N: Okay, I hope yous enjoyed that! Part 2 will happen as long as I have people requesting it. I have ideas, I'm just missing supporters<3

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[fictionalmenmakemecry]

Never getting over you- Part 2

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: Carmy seeing you that one night, brought back mountains of memories. Memories he's been trying to bury for a year. With him not being able to get you off his mind. He could only do one thing.

Warnings: Erotic memories, fluff, saliva, cursing

A/N Did not expect that big of response! Thank you guys :) I've been gone for a little bit but with the trailer coming out and the new season this month, I got inspired again.

Part 1

Enjoy!

He couldn't get you off his mind. So many questions raced through his head.

"Cousin!" Richie snapped, bringing Carmy back to reality.

Carmy looked cluelessly at him not remembering what Richie was nagging him for.

"What?!"

"Jesus Christ, am I talkin' to a wall?" Richie exclaimed glancing over at Sydney.

"The people at table 7... The- the fuckin' shellfish allergy. They're paranoid, they want rea-"

"Reassurance, yeah-yeah... I'm a little busy 'ere, can't you do your job?" Carmy went from station to station looking over everything that was firing

" Yo- you don't think I've tried?" Richie followed raising his arms.

"Fine! fine, I'll go..." Carmy yelled

Another night past of pernickety customers. Carmy was finally glad to close and lock his door and take a deep breath in his apartment.

He leaned against it for a few moments, finally taking in the silence of his surroundings and to be left with his thoughts on what the fuck actually happened tonight.

He kicked off his shoes and as if he was on autopilot, made his way to the bathroom, starting up the shower.

His mind never lifting from seeing you across the street. He couldn't believe it at first. With the lack of sleep he has been dealing with lately, he honestly thought he was losing his mind for a second.

Was something wrong?

Were you in trouble some way?

The way things ended between both you and the nasty words that hung in the air ever since. He really did think he wouldn't see you again.

His mind flashed back to seeing your cheeks red and raw with tears staining them. It was hours of fighting, he didn't know what time it was, but with the sound of the birds outside, most likely early morning.

"If you want to go..." Your words broke off, wiping your nose with a disintegrating tissue.

"Just fuckin' go" Your voice turned sour.

He stood leaning against the back of the couch. The only piece of furniture between the both of you.

He knew that if he left your apartment, he wasn't going to come back. He couldn't deal with this right now. The Bear was at a point of maybe not happening.

But you didn't know that. He didn't tell you that because he knew you would blame yourself. He could barely hold himself together.

With his head hanging low, he took one deep breath before bringing his eyes to yours. He took in your beautiful sorrowful eyes one more time.

"Fine... I'll go" He uttered weakly.

As he grabbed his keys and phone off the kitchen counter, a streak of panic ran through your veins.

Was this it?

Was this the final straw?

The last fight?

"Wait-" You spoke up

But he didn't wait, he continued to put on his shoes.

"Carmy plea-" You rushed over to him, grasping his shoulder and pulling him back.

He shrugged your hand off.

"Carmy, baby.. I don't want- please" Tears started rolling down your face as you came to the realization.

He glanced at you one more time as he made his way out the door, and closed it behind him.

You stood there, utterly lost and exhausted. The sinking feeling in your stomach only getting deeper and deeper.

Carmy did what he needed to do and poured himself into his work. He didn't give himself one minute of free time to let his mind drift onto you. He didn't want to feel the pain in his chest. He just needed to keep himself focused and busy until the pain was buried deep enough that he didn't have to deal with it.

But the sight of you tonight made him vulnerable. The dump truck of emotions that he felt shook him completely.

Days went by, and time went slow. Even in the hectic kitchen, service seemed to be a struggle for Carmy. Simple things that he was usually on top of were slipping through his fingers. He couldn't fuck up, after all the shit he has gone through to get The Bear up and running.

Before he knew it, he was outside your door. He thought that maybe he would have backed out on the way there....

Or outside the building...

Or maybe up the stairs...

But here he was, on 1am on a Tuesday.

"Fuck it" He mumbled, biting down on his lip in annoyance and pausing a moment before knocking on your door.

With an unexpected knock, you snapped your head to the door. You looked at your phone to see it was past midnight.

Curiosity got the best of you, made your way to the door and looked through the peephole.

Your eyes widened to see Carmy on the other side. Your stomach dropped and your mind went blank.

A moment went by and without thinking, you opened the door.

Your eyes landed on his tired ones.

"Carmy.." A word you haven't spoke out loud in months. Your were taken completely off guard and your voice showed that with it's softness.

"I-i" He stuttered looking down, his hand stuffed his wool jacket.

"I thought I would che- fuck.."

You could sense the nervousness off of him, with his tumbling of words.

He looked through his eyelids, with his head hanging low.

"Do you want to come in?" You moved aside giving him room to make his way.

Without another word spoken, he walked past you and the oh so familiar smell of cigarettes, gum and just Carmy filled the air around you.

As much you wanted to convince yourself that it didn't.... It made you crumble inside.

You closed and locked the door, turning around to find his eyes on you.

You looked down and realized that you still were wearing one of his white shirts as pjs. Your stare was back on him, a small playful smile was on his face. A smile he was trying to hide.

The last time he saw you in that shirt, you were bent over on his mattress with it riding up your back with every thrust. The memory made his jeans tighter. He noticed how your hard nipples would peek through, making it incredibly difficult to drag his eyes away from them.

He knew you noticed because you crossed your arms immediately and sucked in your lips trying to hide the blush that was appearing on your cheeks.

A million thoughts were running through Carmy's mind. But to find you in his shirt, short circuited something in his brain. He couldn't get past seeing your face contorted in pleasure or the little whimpers that escaped your mouth.

With your eyes back on the ground, you watched as he slowly walked closer to you until you could feel his body radiate heat onto your arms.

Your eyes followed his fingers as they gently brushed up your arms and over your shoulder. They slowly made their way to the bottom of your chin, bringing your face up to his. Where his eyes were already on yours.

"Carm-"

"Do you want me to stop?" He whispered, his warm breath hitting your lips.

His blue, soft eyes slowly got tainted by something darker.

You shook your head subtly feeling his callous fingertips brush your lips.

Nothing could have stopped you from giving in to him. The very drug that you've been withdrawn from for a year. All you wanted to do right now was overdose.

Without any hesitation from either of you, your lips crashed together.

You felt his hungry with the kiss immediately becoming desperate. He brought his hand up and wrapped it around your neck. The sensation you missed so much. With both of your mouths wanting to taste as much as possible, the kiss turned wetter. You could taste the stale nicotine on his tongue. You felt him lean into you more and more until you caught yourself up against the door.

You felt him pull away for a brief moment, only to be able to catch your breath. His hand still on your throat. His blown out pupils searching yours. His fingers still wrapped around your neck, he brought his thumb up to your lips.

You knew exactly what he wanted. Without hesitation, you opened up obediently, letting his thumb brush up against your eager tongue. He clenched his jaw feeling you gently starting to suck his thumb. It only reminded him of how much he loved your mouth.

Your innocent eyes. swollen lips and wet saliva bringing him to the edge of falling apart.

"Fuck- I've missed you"

[to-thelakes]

exhausted

pairing; frank castle x fem!reader (mentions of matt murdock)

summary; after you lose your cool at matt and frank, frank comes to see you and helps you get some much-needed rest

warnings; initial angst, a smidge of hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic frank castle, soft frank castle, exhausted reader, insomniac reader, discussion of nightmares

notes; this one-shot is an oldie but a goodie, i keep reading back and looking at some one-shots i've previously written and i think this one is good enough that i can share it with the world, i wrote it initially with sharing it in mind so i might as well do it! also this one-shot thingie was inspired by a one-shot i saw here on tumblr, the beginning of this is pretty similar to the one i read so if anyone knows what fic i'm referencing, i'd love to be able to credit who inspired this! otherwise, this is just some comforting frank content because i am an avid insomniac and sometimes you just need the big scary punisher to help you fall asleep

masterlist

You weren’t entirely sure how it had happened but at some point between knowing Matt and Frank, you had become their nurse. Of course, you didn’t particularly mind. Matt had always been kind to you and you enjoyed his company. He was a little flirty but you were used to it and you could lament in your misery with him.

With Frank, he had saved you from some criminals months ago and you had been freaking out. He did his best to calm you down before walking you home and after a particularly bad night, Matt brought Frank to you to patch up. Honestly, you didn’t mind their company and you didn’t mind patching them up.

Ever since you’d moved on from being a Nurse, you’d refound your passion for caring for people but only if it was Frank or Matt. But you also hated taking care of them. Despite having a relatively normal life and sleep schedule compared to when you were a nurse, you were still woken up in the middle of the night by them.

It had been a quiet night for you. You’d finished work and curled up on your bed to drift off and you had. It had been a blissful sleep until you were rudely awoken by your phone ringing. You wanted to tell whoever it was to leave you the fuck alone but when you saw it was Matt, you answered. He asked if you could come over and help patch Frank and him up.

You - reluctantly - agreed since he was only a block over. You didn’t want them bloody up your apartment and so with a great huff, you got out of bed. You changed into comfortable clothes and then grabbed your kit for nights like these and headed to Matt’s place.

Getting in wasn’t hard even in your exhausted and sleepy daze. You managed to find your way up to the fire escape where the two men were sitting. Well, Frank was sat, leaning against the vent, cradling a wound while Matt stood. He was pacing in his Daredevil costume and he looked frustrated. It was practically radiating off of him.

They both looked pretty bruised and yet, they were still arguing. It took you a minute to catch on to the conversation but the second you did you sighed.

“You gotta let me do my shit, altar boy. I don’t give a shit what you can sense, I know what I’m doing and we would have been fine if you hadn’t stopped me from doing my goddamn job,” Frank raged as he stared up at Matt. His hand was pressed against the wound on his side and yet his jaw still flexed with obvious annoyance.

“If you had just listened to me then we would have been fine! You never listen, I can hear more than you can. I can hear their guns, Frank. If you had just shut your damn mouth for one goddamn second, it would have been fine!” Matt snapped in response. His annoyance was radiating off of him and you just looked between them. You weren’t entirely convinced that even of them had realised you were there but you knew Matt could smell you.

“I listen fucking plenty. I knew what I was getting my sorry ass into but you just have to be the fucking saviour, don’t you Red? Always a hero,” Frank scoffed. His tone was scathing and he winced when the pain only seemed to get worse. The irritation that Matt waking you up had began only seemed to grow as you listened to them continue to bicker back and forth about who was right and who was responsible for Frank’s wound. And why Red just couldn’t have listened to Frank for one goddamn minute.

It was probably five minutes of bickering and you had finally had enough. You dropped your kit bag onto the floor and suddenly, both of their attentions snapped to you.

“You are both so insufferable!” You snapped suddenly, glaring between the two men, “I get my ass out of bed after working all fucking day for you two to be bickering like three-year-olds over something that doesn’t fucking matter anymore. Take my shit and patch yourself up. I’m done with this.” Your anger only seemed to grow and you watched as both Matt and Frank’s face fell. You stepped back from the pair of them, “Ungrateful bastards,” You muttered as you headed back to the fire escape and towards Matt’s apartment.

“Hey(!), sweetheart,” Frank’s voice made you pause in your steps. If his next words weren’t an apology, you were going to scream, “Don’t gotta be so fucking moody. Didn’t even see ya.” That was it and you turned on your heel to face them again.

“I couldn’t give a shit if you didn’t see me Frank. I know sure as hell that Matt could smell me before I even got onto the fucking roof. And I’m sure his senses will tell him that I haven’t showered in three days because I’ve been so busy with my new fucking workload that I have barely had the chance to take care of myself. This is the first evening that I haven’t had to work late for my asshole boss and I finally managed to get some sleep until you assholes had to wake me up because you can never work together! I honestly don’t care what happens to you next time. If one of you gets bloody and bruised, don’t fucking call me. Lose my number, both of you.” And with that final word, you walked off the roof and down to Matt’s apartment. You felt like crying, the irritation had seeped into frustration and the tears were blurring your vision as you pulled the apartment door open.

“Sweetheart,” Matt’s voice was so soft as he rushed over to you in the doorway. Your head snapped up so that he could look at you or you assumed he was, you could tell where he was looking with that stupid mask on, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called,” Matt’s voice had softened significantly as he was looking at you.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” You bit back. Matt’s lips turned down into a frown. He suddenly had no idea what to say. He had never seen you like this. Even when you were stressed and overworked as a nurse, you always had this sunny disposition to everything that you did. This was new, he hated it because he knew it was his fault.

“Please, how can I fix this?” Matt asked and you rolled your eyes. The apartment door still open in front of you.

“I told you, lose my number,” You snapped. Matt frowned but before he could even say anything, you were gone. He let out a frustrated huff and he listened as you walked to the elevator and disappeared down to street-level. He didn’t know what to do now.

-

The weekend eventually rolled around and you were relaxing for the first time in a very long time. You were curled up on the couch, watching trash TV with a pizza from your favourite take-out on the coffee table. It was the ideal day.

Well, that was until you heard a knock at your apartment door. A soft huff escaped your lips and you unfurled yourself from your cocoon of blankets to answer it. When you pulled the door open, the last person you expected stood on the other side. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in Frank Castle in all his broad glory with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Your favourite flowers no doubt. You didn’t even know what to say.

“Ya said don’t call,” Frank began and then he held out the flowers, “So I came over instead.” There was a slight softness to his words and it made you let out a soft chuckle. You shook your head but took the bouquet from his hands.

“Thank you,” You mumbled before gesturing for him to come in. The trashy TV show you had on was playing as you grabbed a vase from under the sink and ripped the wrapping from around the flowers. You then grabbed some scissors from the drawer and Frank watched as you snipped the ends at a diagonal and placed them into the water before adding the packet of food.

“M’sorry about the other night,” Frank said after a few beats of silence. You shrugged and rearranged the flowers and when you were happy enough with them, you took them over to the windowsill to replace the faux flowers you had put there weeks ago, “I really appreciate everything’ ya do for me,” He said as he watched you move. You shrugged and wrapped your arms around yourself, moving to sit down on your sofa. You didn’t want to have this conversation.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” You said firmly. Frank sighed and he glanced at the door, not sure whether you wanted him to leave or stay. You glanced back at him expectantly and so he walked over, sitting down on the couch beside you. You grabbed a slice of pizza and offered it to him. He found himself smiling as he took it from your hands.

“M’really sorry, I didn’t-” But before Frank could get any further you put your hand up to silence him. Then your gaze turned on him and he looked back at you.

“Frank, I seriously don’t wanna think about it. Just eat your pizza and shut up,” You told him as you reached out for another slice for yourself. He grunted in response and you seemed pleased with that. You shuffled back, pulling blankets over your shoulder with your free hand before you took a bite out of the pizza. Frank was sitting on one of the blankets on the sofa but you didn’t bother to say anything as you ate.

Your gaze was fixed on the TV. There was about to be an elimination from the show and although you didn’t care for many of the contestants, there was one guy that you wanted to get kicked out. He had the most infuriating personality and had treated every girl like an object since he had been introduced. He rubbed you the wrong way and so, you watched with bated breath to see if he would finally be kicked out.

And he was. Frank noticed the victorious grin on your face as he leaned over for another slice of pizza. You let him grab it as you finished your slice off. Then you shuffled on the sofa and adjusted the blankets around your shoulder again.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” You broke the silence between the pair of you. The sound of the TV was the only thing that was filling the air until that. 

He glanced over at you before he shook his head, letting out a grunt of disagreement. You nodded and then pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulder, “I’ve had a really stressful week at work, I’ve not been sleeping well and I thought that when I quit my job at Metro General my late nights would end. That I would be able to sleep properly again. But you and Matt changed that and I don’t mind. I usually don’t mind at all but this week, I just- I couldn’t do it. I had dragged myself out of sleep which I had barely been able to get into and then you both just bickered. And I really don’t mind helping either of you. I like helping you both but I just can’t do it right now.” 

You were rambling, you knew you were rambling but you felt like Frank deserved an explanation. He was injured and you had left him to be stitched up by Matt. It felt cruel but you were also exhausted. Not even by them, just by life. 

“You don’t gotta explain,” Frank said after a beat. You looked up at him, he had a sorrowful look on his face. It was almost guilty-looking and you didn’t want him to feel guilty. A soft huff escaped your lips as you ran your fingers across your face.

“No, I do because I didn’t have to blow up at you guys. I didn’t have to be so rude. I could have just left but I made a scene and it wa-” Frank cut you off before you got a chance to finish your sentence.

“Ya had every right to shout. We dragged you outta bed for somethin’ that we coulda handled on our own. You were angry and shit, I woulda said worse. You can’t bottle that shit up, you know?” He responded as he looked down at you. You let out a soft sigh, running your fingers through your hair. You didn’t know what to even say.

“I’m just so tired, Frank,” You mumbled. It had been weighing on you all week and it was the first time you had let yourself admit it. You were so exhausted. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. The tension in the room seemed to increase tenfold at the submission and Frank was silently observing you as you reached for a pizza slice, hoping to distract your exhaustion-addled mind. It was too much.

“Lie down for a bit, yeah?” He said and you looked up at him, confusion etched across your features. Almost bemused by his words.

“I’ve tried that Frank. Plus, it’s too early,” You mumbled before you took a bite of your pizza. He shook his head and closed the pizza box on the coffee table. He then reached for the TV remote and he switched it off.

“Nah, enough of this shit. We’re gonna lie down and I’ll make sure you get some goddamn sleep. alright?” There was no room to argue with him and as he stood up, looming above you, you weren’t entirely sure you had the bravery to. So, you simply nodded your head. You placed the half-eaten pizza slice into the box and then got to your feet, leaving your cocoon of blankets on the sofa so you could go to bed, “You gonna brush your teeth?” He asked. You nodded your head. Even though you had just eaten, you had to make sure that they were brushed before you went to bed and so, Frank lingered in the doorway as you brushed your teeth, “Red’s gonna give you shit when he finds out about this, sweetheart,” Frank commented off-handedly. You spat some toothpaste into the sink before you glanced over at him.

“He can smell when I last showered, I think he already knows,” You muttered before you finished brushing your teeth. You grabbed the towel and washed the toothpaste off your mouth, washing your mouth out with water before you stepped back. You were already in pyjamas so you were ready for bed.

“Yeah, that’s what he tells ya,” Frank mumbled as you headed towards your bedroom. Frank slipped his boots off at the foot of your bed and discarded his jacket on top of your dresser before he glanced over at you.

“Are you sleeping in the bed too?” You asked tentatively. Frank turned to look at you, cocking an eyebrow.

“That a problem?” He asked curiously. You shook your head and he nodded, “You been gettin’ nightmares?” His question caught you completely off-guard and you just stared at him, dumb-founded from the side of your bed. He huffed out in mild amusement, “You were an ER nurse, gives its own scars,” He shrugged. You sighed and rubbed your hands across your face.

“It’s not nightmares. It’s just not dreams either. I can just hear flatlining and feel blood and I’m running down corridors, plagued by the clean smell of the hospital. It’s sterile and I wake up and I swear I can smell it,” You mumbled, trying your best to explain the experiences. You hated calling them nightmares because nothing scary happened. It was just your feelings and memories of the place you used to love.

“You wake up scared?” He asked as he walked over to the opposite side of the bed. You nodded your head, “Then it’s a nightmare. When did your dirtbag ex break up with you?” You didn’t seem to understand how that correlated but it had been only a month ago. It coincided with the exact time you began to have issues sleeping.

“A month ago. I’ve not been a nurse for months. Why is that relevant?” You asked as you decided to pull the covers back but you didn’t get in.

“You’re sleeping alone, sweetheart. Does things to you especially when you’re not used to,” He stated blankly. It seemed to dawn on you why he knew this and you just stared at him for a moment, not sure whether to apologise or offer sympathy but he didn’t give you a chance, “Now let’s get you some sleep, hm?” You smiled thankfully and slipped under the covers. Frank slipped under them beside you and you pulled them up to your shoulder.

Then you grabbed onto the pillow, adjusting it under your head. Frank was facing you, his hands resting in front of him as yours rested under your head. He watched you adjust and get comfortable before you let out a sigh.

“I always hated sleeping alone,” You mumbled after a moment of silence, “When I was a kid, my little brother would always get nightmares and so we’d sleep in the same bed. Then, by the time he had grown out of that habit, I was old enough that I was going to high school and my parents began to - reluctantly - let my partner stay over. Then, I went to college and I basically spent every night with someone in my bed whether that was a friend or someone I was dating. I never really got used to sleeping alone, I guess.” Although Frank didn’t have the exact same feeling as you as he had slept alone plenty of times while he was on tours, he understood what you meant. After he lost Maria, he found it impossible to sleep alone. The nightmares tormented him. It got better with time but never really truly better. It’s the main reason why he pushed his body to the point of collapse. Then he didn’t have to worry about trying to fall asleep alone. It just happened because his body didn’t give him a choice. You had started to do the same.

“Just try and get some sleep tonight, yeah?” He suggested. You nodded and you let your eyes fall closed. He shifted on the bed before he let his eyes close as well. You sighed and felt your eyes forcing themselves back open. They didn’t want to stay closed and after a few more minutes of desperately trying to keep them closed, you rolled onto your back.

And you stared at the ceiling like you had for so many nights over the past few months. You were never able to sleep, when you woke up from sleep, you just stared. You had memorised every crack in the shitty ceiling and now there was nothing new to look at. You didn’t know what was wrong with you but you hated it.

“Hey,” Frank said softly. It was so quiet that you almost missed it and then you turned your head to the side to look at him, “You gotta tell me what ya need if I’m gonna help,” You knew what you needed but you weren’t about to ask Frank for it. This was already crossing the bounds of your friendship and you felt almost disrespectful even doing this but he seemed insistent. His eyes were burning into the side of your head.

“My ex used to…” You trailed off, not sure whether to say it. Frank grunted in a somewhat encouraging way as he shuffled towards you, “They used to cuddle with me when I couldn’t sleep and they’d… God I can’t ask this of you.” You cut yourself off before you could finish your sentence. Your hands pressed over your face, embarrassment flooding your face in the form of heat crawling up your neck and across your cheeks. This was too much.

“Hey, hey, listen to me,” He brought your hands away from your face and you turned to look at him, meeting his soft gaze, “I don’t give a shit if it’s embarrassing, tell me.” His words were firm and you sighed, taking a deep breath before you turned over onto your side so that you could look at him properly again.

“They’d like hold me against their chest, like my forehead against their chest and then they’d run their fingers across my arm. It just always relaxed me,” You finally admitted. Frank smiled softly, not even caring what you were asking of him. Instead, he shuffled forward on the bed and brought you towards him.

“Come ‘ere,” He mumbled. You shuffled into him and with a tentative breath, you rested your forehead against his chest. One of his hands rested under his head while the other moved to rest against the back of your arm. He drew you closer and you gave in, letting your body mold against his. His fingers slowly began to trace along the skin on the back of your arm.

A soft breath of relief escaped your lips, the familiar touch cooled your nervous system in seconds. Your eyes fell closed, tension releasing at the movements as you moved your arms around Frank. Your hand draped over his hip as you felt exhaustion return to your body after you had fought it away all day.

“Thank you,” You muttered under your breath. Your voice was slower than before, sleep ready to take you as you relaxed into his hold.

“Sleep well, sweetheart,” He mumbled against your hair as he rested against you. His touch against your skin was the last thing you remembered before the bliss of sleep took you in.

<3

[starrylothcat]

My queen! May I humbly request to you a dialog burned into my skull for hunter ? I know you have a promt list but I have thought of hunter saying these lines ever since they came to me (I hope u don't mind a suggestion that's not on a list🖤🖤🖤)

"Do you have any idea how intoxicating you are to me? Do you even know what you Do me? How much you drive me wild?"

"Oh I think you do. Oh mesh'la, If I didnt know any better I'd think you like driving me crazy"

-I've had no thoughts other than hunter and his God damn inhanced senses and that scent kink 🙈 Nonthing but sinful smutty thoughts

Ofc my queen, you can go for whatever context you think fits. ☺️🖤🖤🖤

Essence

Summary: Your scent drives Hunter wild and his desire for you has been building. He’s been able to hold it together until a new scent from you pushes him to the brink.

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi Fem!Reader

WC: 4700 whoops

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Scent kink, unprotected PiV sex (wrap it yo), cunnilingus, cum eating, praise, Hunter being a horny beast. Takes place during TCW. Reader is a Jedi for fun, not really described.

A/N: Let me tell you, I have no THOTS other than Hunter and his senses either! Thank you so much for this request…this dialogue is DELICIOUS and you sent me down a rabbit hole. I do not mind at all! I got a bit carried away, but I hope this is what you envisioned! This is what I humbly offer in return! Enjoy~

Ever since you introduced yourself to him all those weeks ago, Hunter has been captivated. 

Whenever his mind was idle his thoughts drifted to you, the ghost of your scent always teasing his senses. He both wished he could be near and as far away as possible from you, your entire being taunting him whether you knew it or not.  

It wasn’t just your beauty that beguiled him or your skill on the battlefield, it was your alluring and downright intoxicating fragrance that overtook his senses any time you were near. 

Hunter was used to people’s smells, it was the downside of being genetically enhanced to notice such things. He often found other’s natural scents overpowering, learning to ignore them quickly.

But you, you were something else. 

Per the Jedi Council’s request, you were assigned to Clone Force 99 to assist with a  few delicate retrieval missions and had been given orders to train with them in the weeks leading up to the assignments.

His brothers grumbled, not liking having a Jedi on the team, even temporarily, thinking it was some sort of insult and insinuating they couldn’t handle themselves.

Hunter was skeptical too, but ever since first meeting you on a landing platform on Coruscant, your natural perfume ignited his senses like a newly formed star.

During missions, he could ignore it long enough to be successful and keep his mind clear. 

But when you were training, or on The Marauder, or just catching him in the halls of Kamino to say hi, he was tormented, and ached in silence.

You had just returned to Coruscant, having completed a mission successfully. You were back at the main GAR Headquarters and Master Kenobi wanted a debrief from you and Hunter. The war was picking up, and more and more Jedi and clones were needed in the coming battles.

Hunter was trying to clear his head before the meeting. He was stuck on The Marauder with you for a few rotations and his body was buzzing with need, his mind cloudy and spinning. He wanted so desperately to explore your body inch by inch, peel back your Jedi robes and become completely lost in you. 

It was all he could think about.

Every night, even when you weren’t near, he dreamt of the sounds you’d make as he took you apart and pieced you back together, how your curves would feel under his palms, desperate to be between your legs and drink at your source. Every morning he’d wake uncomfortably hard, hoping his hand would help him forget, but it only provided temporary relief.

Hunter was almost glad your time with them was nearing an end, not knowing how long he could suffer like this. 

Hunter had another problem, and it also had to do with you. He had been avoiding you the entire trip back to Coruscant and practically ran off The Marauder when you landed.

He knew you noticed, and figured you assumed he was angry at you. He watched as your face fell when you asked if he wanted to join you after the mission debrief for a drink, to celebrate the mission success. 

Hunter mumbled he was busy, not even looking you in the eye. 

How could he when he was seconds from wanting to taste your lips and fuck you senseless?

Hunter stood outside the door to the debriefing room, knowing you’d be in there. It was probably for the best if you thought he hated you. 

It wasn’t like you’d be able to be with him, anyway. 

You were standing in the conference room, knowing Hunter was going to walk in any minute.

You were trying to figure out Hunter’s increasingly strange behavior toward you, not knowing if you did something to upset him, or if something else was bothering him.

The mission was a success, no losses were sustained, and you and Clone Force 99 worked well with one another, so that couldn’t be it.

Your heart sank a little, thinking maybe he figured out your feelings toward him. He did have heightened senses, maybe he noticed something, and you weren’t as subtle as you hoped? You were trying your best to keep everything strictly professional, the mission always coming first.

You couldn’t deny your growing feelings toward the broody Sargeant though, his smokey voice, curly locks, broad shoulders, and thin waist just begging for you to grab on to. Those exact fantasies were going through your head just a few moments ago when you were in your quarters. 

You meant to take a nap and rest, but your mind wandered along with your hand under your panties. You didn’t mean to think about Hunter, but it was his face that was between your thighs in the dream, his deep voice whispering praises as he entangled his body with yours. 

The chirp of your commlink interrupted your “nap,” alerting you that the debrief was starting earlier than expected. Begrudgingly, you dressed and headed to the meeting, not satisfied and a little more frustrated than before.

Hunter entered the room, and his nerves were immediately on fire. You were chatting with another clone, a Commander from another unit. 

You glanced at him, nodded, and went back to speaking with him.

A new odor from you was assaulting his senses that wasn’t your usual exilarating aroma, this was different.

Very different.

It was arousal. 

Hunter bristled, fighting the sudden and intense urge to rip his clothes off and yours, taking you right then and there in front of everybody.

It was hard enough to ignore your usual natural perfume, but this was almost cataclysmic.

Obi-Wan’s hologram popped up, exchanging short courtesies with everyone, before diving into the topic at hand.

Hunter was barely paying attention, voices fading as he tried to hold himself together.

Why would you smell like sex? 

Hunter scanned the room, looking at the troopers and other Jedi that were listening to the debrief from Obi-Wan. 

Was it one of them? 

Jealousy stabbed his chest like a blade, imagining you in the throes of pleasure with a reg between your legs. You can do better than that. He thought bitterly. It could be me if you wanted.

Your demeanor was calm, listening intently to General Kenobi’s report, which was the opposite of what your pheromones were telling him. 

The other clones seemed at ease too, and Hunter couldn’t pick up the hint of your arousal on anyone else in the room.

Does that mean…?

If Hunter wasn’t sweating before, he was now. 

The image of you laying on your bunk in your quarters, touching your own body, and pleasing yourself was almost too much to handle in this public space. 

Jedi were people too, people with needs. And you were taking care of that need right before this meeting. 

Hunter glanced in your direction, your body radiating arousal, burning him from the inside out. 

You were horny, there was no denying it. Still horny, it seemed, as if your private time before this meeting wasn’t quite enough.  

Hunter’s body went into overdrive, picking up your needy pheromones as they wafted to his nose. 

Was this purposeful? Did you know what you did to him and were testing him? Some sort of kriffed-up Jedi trial of will?

Hunter clenched and unclenched his fist, praying for this debrief to be over soon, or else he might implode, a beast clawing its way out that he wasn’t sure he could contain for much longer.

Who were you thinking of while you writhed under your hand?

The image of some shiny reg popped into his head again, or that Commander you were just speaking to, the sharp blade of jealousy threatening to split him open.

He wanted you, all of you. The thought of anyone else made his blood boil, though he knew he had no stake in you. No one did. You were a Jedi. 

After what seemed like hours, the meeting ended, and General Kenobi signed off.

Hunter had to get out of here, get away from you before he did something he regretted.

He wanted to pull you into the nearest supply closet and give you what your body needed. But did you even want him? Could you feel the same way, if things were different?

Hunter knew the Jedi had their codes, their honor. He didn’t want to put you in a position of temptation or disgrace.

Hunter barely heard you call his name, trying to get his attention as he quickly strode out of the mission room, needing to be alone, needing to get away from you. Once again, he was running away from you.

You were aware of Hunter’s strange behavior throughout the meeting. He almost looked ill, sweating and fidgeting, the muscles in his neck tense and his jaw set tight.

There was definitely something wrong with him. He raced off The Marauder, and now he’s avoiding you again like you were made of bantha dung.

You frowned, your patience thin.

You had to know what was going on. 

You left the room, scanning the hallway to see which way he went. You caught a glimpse of his armor and red bandana turning a corner some ways down the hall, and you jogged trying to catch up with him, calling his name. 

“Hunter! Wait!

Hunter didn’t look back, increasing his pace. His head was throbbing, his codpiece uncomfortably tight,  trying to get you out of his head. It didn’t help that you were chasing him down the hall. 

Hunter took a quick turn down another hallway, opening the first door that he saw. It was an empty training room, with floor mats and other exercise equipment scattered about the room. The door hissed closed behind him, hoping he had lost you.

He wasn’t fast enough, it seemed, as you slammed the button to open the door, stepping in.

“Hunter, what the kriff  is going on?” He could tell you were mad, your lips pursed tight and a flash in your eyes that told him you were here for answers.

Hunter was balling his fists again, not wanting to put you in a situation that made you uncomfortable, hoping he could come up with something to ease the situation.

“Nothing, I just needed some air.”

You glowered, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Hunter, you’ve been avoiding me like I have the plague…did I do something to upset you? If so, let me apologize. You’re acting strange!”

“You didn’t upset me.” Hunter’s response was quick. “It’s just…”

 “Just what?” 

Hunter took in a deep breath. He knew you wouldn’t believe any excuse he came up with. You weren’t stupid.

“You.” Hunter grumbled, unable to look you in the eyes.

“Me?” You questioned. “So it does have to do with me? Hunter, I don’t want to play games!”

Hunter could hear the drop in your voice, not wanting you to think he was angry with you.

“No…it’s something else. My senses…” Hunter scrubbed his face with his hands. 

Hunter sighed. “Whatever you were doing before the debrief…..I can still smell it on you.”

“Hunter, what do you-?” You stopped, processing his words.

Hunter stayed silent.

Oh.

Oh.

Heat scorched your face, wanting to become invisible and shrink into nothing. He could smell that?

“Hunter I’m so sorry, I…umm…” You were almost too embarrassed to speak, your anger replaced with mortification, not realizing his senses were that acute.

“Don’t apologize.” Hunter started toward you. “It’s okay, it's just…overwhelming.”

You bit your lip, your face on fire, seeing how disheveled he seemed, but you could tell something was bubbling beneath his surface.

Your Jedi senses were picking up a need, a desire that he was holding back, one that was boiling over, one that has been held down tight for some time that was finally slipping through the cracks.

“I… didn’t have a chance to finish.” You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of your mouth. “I got a comm for the debrief right as uh…I was almost done.” 

Hunter stared at you, mouth open.

“What are you saying?” His voice was low, his gaze narrowing.

You boldly lifted a hand and traced it down his armored arm. “I’m saying…I’d let you help me finish what I started earlier. If that would fix things, clear your mind.”

Hunter was speechless momentarily, not believing the words coming out of his Jedi’s mouth. 

You were close to him now, closer even than you were in the debriefing room. 

“I…I was thinking about you.” You whispered, your fingers still lightly outlining his armor.

Hunter brought his hand to your neck, tracing his fingers up to cup the side of your face, testing the waters. 

“Has…my scent been making you feel this way the entire time?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes.

Hunter closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing, slowly bringing his forehead to yours. 

“Yes. Every waking moment.” He admitted.

The tension that had been building in Hunter, between the two of you, finally snapped. 

Hunter pressed his entire body into you, walking you back against the wall of the training room, pinning you. Intense heat radiated from him turning your blood into magma, your hands flying to grasp at the back of his head as his armor dug into you.

Hunter leaned down into your neck, inhaling deeply. 

“Do you have any idea how intoxicating you are to me? Do you even know what you do to me?” His tone was a hoarse whisper, like wisps of smoke from a recently doused fire, his hands tracing up your torso over your robes, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

“Do you realize how much you drive me wild? How often have I thought of you like this?”

It was all out in the open now, there was no point in holding back.

His lips hovered above your pulse point, watching it beat and hearing the blood rushing through your veins.

Your body was engulfed with want, your core aching as you felt Hunter’s breath pant against your neck. “Your body…your smell…you tear me apart at the seams, mesh’la.”

“I didn’t realize…I didn’t think you’d notice-“ you gasped as his lips connected with your neck, his tongue tracing a pattern on your skin, his fingers locked on your waist. 

“I think you did. Oh mesh'la, If I didn't know any better I'd think you like driving me crazy.”

Hunter lifted his head from your neck, locking his eyes with yours. His usual honey-brown irises were almost black, pupils blown wide with unbridled lust. 

You didn’t realize he felt this way for you for so long and felt a little guilty for unintentionally driving him mad. 

“Tell me to stop, and I will.” Hunter gasped, his cock aching in his pants, waiting for your answer, your arousal stronger than before, your body begging to be ravaged. 

You swallowed, momentarily wondering if you should stop this before it got too far, but his touch and feral desire for you were too enticing to ignore. 

You closed the distance between you,  crashing your lips against him. You dug your hands into his hair, kissing with uninhibited abandon, giving him your answer. 

He immediately kissed back with equal fervor, loving the sensation of you gently pulling on his hair, causing the burning flame in his chest to ignite hotter and brighter as your mouths greedily danced. 

You boldly nibbled at his bottom lip, earning a groan from Hunter as you slid your tongue against his, intensifying the already feral kiss. 

You knew this was wrong, against everything, but you didn’t care. The worries of being caught were carelessly thrown to the ground with your robes and his armor, quickly stripping one another, not wanting to waste a single second. 

You traced your fingers over his broad, powerful body as he gave you equal attention, running his thumbs over your soft curves, marveling at your figure. “You’re beautiful.” Hunter rasped. “Maker, I’ve wanted you since I first saw you.”

He searched your eyes one more time for any sign of doubt or hesitation.

 “I’m flattered, Sarge.” You teased, tracing your hand down his biceps, touching his sculpted muscle under his tanned skin. 

Hunter sloppily kissed down your neck and took one of your nipples in his mouth, suckling and teasing, gauging your reaction with every flick of his tongue, quickly learning what you liked. 

You gripped his hair again, panting and moaning as he lavished your breast before switching to the other.

“H-Hunter…” you could barely speak, still tugging at his locks which seemed to spur him on further. 

 “I can smell how much you want me.” Hunter rasped as he slid to his knees, hands caressing your thighs, looking up at you.

 “Can I taste you? Give you what your body has been begging for?” You looked down at the man kneeling before you, a dark and hungry look on his face, sweat beading at his brow, his chest heaving. 

“I need to know if you taste as good as you do in my dreams.”

You swallowed thickly, a new rush of desire flooding your senses. He's been dreaming about me, like this?

“You’ll have to let me know how it compares.” Your voice was raspy, trying to steady yourself, leaning back against the training room wall. 

Hunter smirked as he pressed his nose into your mound, inhaling deeply. 

He was finally at the source of what has been eating him alive the last few weeks, and it was intensely satisfying.

 “I can’t wait to see if your sounds are as pretty as this pussy. You’re dripping. All for me, hm?”

He brushed his nose against your clit, a jolt of pleasure electrifying your body as a lewd sound escaped your lips, louder than intended.

 “Did you like that? Do you want to cum on my face?” He mumbled, nuzzling his nose again against the sensitive nerve. 

You whimpered, needing more, so much more. 

“Y-yes…please, Hunter. I want to cum in your mouth.” 

You were begging now, his stubble scratching against your thighs and his lips gently kissing your labia. 

“That’s my girl, I’ll give you what you want for asking so nicely.” He rumbled into your soaking cunt, his cock weeping at the sight and the scent of you. 

Hunter wasted no time starting his feast on your pussy, probing his tongue and hungrily lapping at your folds.

He truly was eating you like a man depraved, your nails digging into his scalp. It was intense, better than you could have imagined, better than your hand under your blanket, wishing it was Hunter between your thighs. 

Your body shook and you couldn’t hold back the blissed sobs as Hunter gorged himself, his groans increasing in volume as he felt you get closer and closer to your peak, his jaw soaking with your fluid. 

Once again, Hunter quickly recognized your subtle reactions and knew exactly where to lick and suck.

His hooked nose pressed and ground against your clit, bliss building quickly, your legs threatening to give out at the sheer intensity of it all. 

You were a blubbering mess, words not coherent as Hunter moved his focus solely to your clit, needing you to cum. He flattened his tongue and pressed against your bud, grinding his mouth into you as you reached your peak. 

Hunter was barely holding himself together, his hands tightly squeezing your thighs to keep you upright, holding you as you came apart above him. 

Hunter let out a feral growl as you came, catching your release on his tongue, loving how your pussy clenched and legs quivered as your orgasm hit you like a ship going into hyperspace. 

Your vision went white and anything tangible vacated your mind, letting the ecstasy course through your body.

“Kriff, you’re so beautiful when you cum.” Hunter mumbled into your pussy, still licking and kissing between your folds.

 “So much better than my dreams.” You were breathless, coming down from your high, sliding down the wall. Hunter realized your legs were about to give out, wrapped his arms around you, and held you against him. 

Your heart was pounding, trying to piece together what just happened, Hunter’s cock rubbing up against your stomach as he kissed you again, as ravenous and desperate as before, his face dripping with your release. It wasn’t enough, though, for either of you. 

“Hands and knees.” He demanded between your lips furiously molding together. “Now.”

You immediately complied, any shred of your dignity completely gone. You shakily knelt on the ground on a floor training mat, resting your weight on your elbows, your ass sticking in the air.

You looked back at him over your shoulder, and the look on his face was predatory, dangerous even, his eyes completely black with craving.

Hunter knelt behind you, his chest heaving, rubbing his red cock head through your slick folds. You quivered, your cunt still sensitive from your orgasm. 

Hunter slowly nudged against your entrance. “That’s right, relax, mesh’la.” 

His breath was ragged, holding back wanting to slam straight into you and fuck you into oblivion.

 “There you go, just like that…Kriff you’re so warm.” Hunter’s voice was gravelly, letting out a low hiss as he bottomed out. The stretch was wonderful, being stuffed full of him, his hips meeting your ass. 

Seeing you like this, on all fours willing and taking him so effortlessly was almost overloading his system. 

He squeezed your waist, giving a few shallow thrusts that practically made his mind melt, feeling your walls clench and take him perfectly. 

 “Hunter…” You dug your fingernails into the mat, not caring about how desperate you sounded, or how you were exposing your ass to him like an animal in heat. 

“Fuck me, please.” You gasped, pushing back against him. 

“So needy…” Hunter squeezed your ass, slowly pulling out almost all the way. “You’ll get what you’ve been wanting, mesh’la. Don’t worry.”

Hunter quickly pushed back in, earning a pleasured whine from you. He was deliciously thick, and you could feel his cock head and veins glide against your walls as he picked up his pace, fucking you exactly how you wanted for who knows how long. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He grunted, breathless, his broody Sargeant composure crumbling with every thrust deeper inside you, his pace increasing. 

“Did you want to be fucked by me? Did you dream about me, too? Did you touch your perfect pussy and think of me?” 

You nodded, your eyes half-lidded and your mouth hanging open as he fucked you senseless, your cheek now pressed against the mat.

You knew you would probably have a red mark across your face but you didn’t care, just like you didn’t care how his hands would be leaving bruises on your hips as he pounded into you. 

You were thankful these training rooms were soundproof, the obscene slapping of sweaty skin and excessively loud moans hopefully muffled to any passerby.

Hunter groaned at your admission, his calloused hands leaving a trail of fire as they roamed your backside, one hand reaching under you and his finger finding your clit. 

“Did you touch yourself just like this right before the meeting? Wishing it was your Sergeant’s cock?” 

You nodded into the mat again, tears forming at the sides of your eyes, drool pooling under where your face was pressed into the firm fabric, the sheer intensity of him pulling you apart with every frantic thrust.

“Y-yes Hunter, I wished it was you, I wished it was your cock filling me up…” 

Hunter growled, pleased at your answer. 

He applied more pressure to your clit, causing you to convulse and shake against him, crying out his name, his cock pounding into you without pause. 

 “You’re so close, mesh’la, I can feel it. Be a good girl and cum for your Sergeant.”

Hunter leaned down, pressing his abdomen to your back, truly mounting you like an animal, his hips pistoning into you, growling in your ear. 

His control was gone. He needed one thing and one thing only, his mind now focused on a singular task, to feel you come apart on his cock, inhale your release, hear your voice shake as you cry out his name and his name only. 

Hunter’s hand was rubbing perfect, quick circles on your engorged clit, tears falling down the sides of your cheeks as the coil in your belly was wound tighter and tighter with every movement of his finger. 

“H-Hunter I’m so -“ You sobbed, so close to crashing over the edge, his finger relentless against your practically overstimulated bud.

 “Cum for me, now.”

 Hunter snarled in your ear, needing your orgasm more than you. 

“That’s it…let me hear you…” His voice was strained through his clenched jaw, inhaling deeply in the crook of your neck as your walls clenched and trembled around his cock, soaking him as your release rocked your body, every one of his nerves in charged with electricity at the sound and fragrance of your second orgasm.

“So perfect…just like that…” 

Hitched sobs of his name were more than enough to bring him excruciatingly close to his own explosive orgasm that was building quickly. “Where?” His hand was still working your clit, shocks of pleasure jolting your body, his hand soaked with your cum. 

“Inside…implant.” you gasped, and that was more than enough to unload inside you. Hunter bit into your neck, letting out a final low, guttural moan as his cock swelled and twitched, pulsating his release into your cunt. 

Your body was completely wrecked and overstimulated, clenching around his softening cock, feeling his spend leak out of you and onto the mat below. 

Hunter’s thrusts slowed, mumbling incoherent words in your ear, your head ringing and blood pounding in your ears.

Hunter slowly pulled out of you, watching as his cum dripped from your swollen pussy.

“Gorgeous.” He murmured, not being able to help himself as he grabbed your hips, earning a surprised yelp as he flipped you on your back, yanking your pelvis up. 

You were completely blissed, mind hazy, eyelids fluttering, trying to come down from your high. 

Hunter couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of you. He wasn’t done yet.

You gasped as Hunter lapped at your folds once more, gently this time, tasting himself mixed with your juices. You let out a choked groan as he softly teased your clit, cleaning you up with his mouth.

“Too much…Hunter…” You could barely speak, watching as he slowly ate you out. Hunter locked his eyes on you, continuing his languid pace, putting your boneless legs over his broad shoulders for better access. 

Hunter knew he could get one more out of you. “One more, pretty thing, for me.” He mumbled into your folds, swirling his tongue carefully around your aching clit.

You were grasping at nothing, digging your nails into the mat, your gasping mewls music to Hunter’s ears. His hands carefully caressed where he bruised you, gently suckling on your overworked clit, careful and precise. 

Your legs shook as a slow, rolling orgasm washed over your body, sounds unable to leave your mouth, Hunter’s sudden gentleness surprising but welcome.

Your body was covered in sweat, your hair sticking to your forehead and back stuck to the mat, trying to piece yourself together as Hunter removed himself from between your legs, barely registering him kissing you softly, stroking the side of your face, kissing the bite mark on your neck.

You wanted to say something, but the moment was interrupted by Hunter’s commlink chirping in his pile of armor. He cursed, standing up and rifling through his pockets, still buck naked. You sat up on your forearms, trying to figure out how you’d both get out of this room unseen, and what came after.

Hunter grabbed his device, speaking quickly to Tech who was on the receiving end. You didn’t pay much attention to what he was saying, trying to dress yourself and look presentable.

“Tech wants us to run through a simulation of our next assignment.” Hunter handed you your belt as he fixed his blacks, snapping his armor back into place. “But I told him it could wait until tomorrow.” 

You raised your eyebrow, trying to fix your hair. “I’m surprised you’re not running away from me again, Sarg.” You teased lightly, not quite sure what to say after your intense coupling.

Hunter chuckled. “I figured we could get that drink.” 

You looked at him, a blush forming at your cheeks. “To celebrate a successful mission.” He smirked as he adjusted his viroblade on his arm. 

“Agreed.” You answered, touching his arm like you did before, a mischievous flash in your eye.

“Since we are ditching training tonight for a drink, “ You continued, “perhaps we could discuss future strategies in my personal quarters afterwards?”

Hunter’s eyes met yours, the hungry look from before returning.

“Sir yes sir.”

Taglist: @maybethatfanfictionwriter @littlemissmanga @secretthegriffin @secondaryrealm @sinfulsalutations @anxiouspineapple99 @idontgetanysleep @starqueensthings @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @aconstructofamind @wanderer-six @blueink-bluesoul @the-cantina @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @523rdrebel @dukeoftheblackstar @pb-jellybeans @sleepingsun501 @coraex

[lacrimosathedark]

As a big time Radioapple shipper, I would love it if Radioapple writers didn't like, bash Lilith?

I've seen a handful of writers make Lilith downright abusive. Saying Lucifer's ducks are ridiculous, that his dreams are outlandish, even going so far as to say he's useless or pathetic. This is often used to highlight the difference between Lilith and Alastor when Alastor is shockingly understanding, as if Lilith wouldn't be and is portrayed as and ice queen. Which is nothing like what little we know of her.

The intro says she inspired demonkind. In the pilot, there are posters of her encouraging Sinners to resist against the Exterminations. Charlie is so sure that Lilith would support her hotel. The paintings in Lucifer's office show a loving, happy family.

People who love each other can grow apart without either being outright abusive.

Lucifer's Fall came with a great deal of despair, exacerbated by the cruelty he saw in Sinners. His depression was in direct opposition to Lilith's hopes.

And then there's his AuDHD, which probably leads to him focusing on one thing or another and losing track of time, time he could be spending with his family. Not like he means to be away, it just happens.

And of course he's so socially awkward and Lilith is inspirational, so any "royal duties" probably fell on Lilith's shoulders rather than Lucifer's.

That's a lot of strain on the relationship without either one being particularly cruel or at fault. Just drifting apart.

It's possible Lilith kept Charlie from Lucifer when they split, but there's so many reasons she could have done that. If he got focused on something, he might not pay enough attention to her and she get hurt for example. There's also the possibility of anything Lilith was doing behind Lucifer's back to help Hell have something to do with Charlie.

And Lucifer is still wearing his ring, keeps up family portraits as a reminder. If there was any resentment for her at all, he could have covered up Lilith. We've seen Blitzø scribble out his own face in photographs and scribbled over Verosika on his calendar, and Stolas cover all portraits and revealing only Octavia. It's not out of the realm of possibility. But he didn't and he keeps that reminder of her with him.

And while very much not canon, I've seen Viv like fanart of Lucifer showing his ducks to Lilith and her loving them. Lucifer is adorable and do you think he was any LESS silly before his hopes were shattered? No! If anything, he was probably SILLIER when she fell in love with him. All that creative power and imagination, only scolding to dampen his sparkle, and not scolding from Lilith. He would tell her all about his funny ideas and would she have married him if she didn't love that about him?

Lucifer and Lilith were very much in love at first. The only hint we have that Lilith is actually a horrible person is that the person that is presumably her made some deal with Adam and has been chilling somewhere outside of Hell for the last seven years without telling her daughter anything at all. Which there could be so many reasons for.

And that dark look she gave to Lute doesn't have to be her being annoyed at having to go back to Hell to her family. Lute is a bitch, and also just called Lilith's daughter a bitch. Like...do you expect her to smile at her??? Lute sucks. (for the record, I hate her as a character, which I think means she's a good character. And her voice is AMAZING and I need to hear her sing more after You Didn't Know because WOW)

All that is to say, a separation doesn't have to be from abuse and it can still be hard to move on. AND you don't have to hate your ex to move on to dating someone else.

You don't need to villainize Lilith to make Alastor look good. Part of Alastor's appeal is that he's a complex contradictory bastard. If you want his behavior compared to something to make him look good, use his past actions. If he's getting kinder, sweeter, more understanding, his old antagonism would contrast it. And if you want to use someone else, Adam's right there! And he SUCKS! (I like him as a character tho, he's hilarious)

I don't like shipping Lucifer with Adam, but I know some people do, and I also like the idea that they were friends before everything fell apart. But Adam is all the negative things Alastor is not.

Both of them are prideful, but so is Lucifer. And Alastor generally wields his pride with grace while Adam never shuts the fuck up about himself.

Adam clearly has little to no respect for women, just by how he treats Lilith and Vaggie and even Charlie. Alastor holds women in high regard, and most of the people he seems to have actual relationships with are women, Niffty, Rosie, Mimzy, and even Charlie.

Adam is always talking about sex and bragging about how much he fucks, and says that Charlie and Vaggie's relationship is "hot as fuck" which, ew. Alastor, meanwhile, is (obliviously) asexual, has a general disregard for sexuality, and open disdain for hypersexuality.

Adam is very openly uncouth and brash and rude and constantly swearing. Alastor is vicious, but he is charming and genteel all the while, and swears a whole of three four times in season one. First, the "Fuck you" to Lucifer in Episode Five (it took him that long to swear ONCE), and then twice in Episode Eight, once when first letting loose in his fight against Adam, and second when he was stunned right before getting wounded (edit addition: and also once in Episode Seven when he called Susan an "ornery old bitch" and I have NO IDEA how I forgot that). Adam drops cunt in the first episode.

Adam is also an open book where Alastor is a puzzle hidden behind a smile.

If you wanna compare Alastor, or anyone else you'd ship Lucifer with, to someone he might have been close to from all the way back in Eden times, Lilith isn't the only option there.

Let Lilith say one word before you decide she's evil, yeah?

[lieslab]

Will you have me or watch me fall?

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Summary: You're part of Chan's mafia, but after you lose your leg in a car accident, coping with the grief and pain seems to be nothing short of hell on earth.

Genre: Mafia AU

Word Count: 4.1K

Trigger warning: Descriptions of a car accident, alcohol, a creepy asshole, physical assault, depression, anxiety, grief, mentions of wanting to die, and insecurities.

A/N: I know this isn't a request, but I had an urge to write something mafia related. Also, I've realized that there are a lot of people out there that live with some physical struggles and disabilities that some people really don't think much about and that includes me. So I've created this to shed some light on something that some people have faced and live with daily. It's a shot in the dark, but I hope it makes someone feel seen <3

_ _ _

It was all you had ever known for years. For so long, you forgot what ordinary life was life. A mirage of tangled memories seemed to be there and then they fell. They entirely fell apart within the span of an hour. One moment you were driving and glancing down to switch the radio. The next, you were screaming as you swerved the wheel to avoid the oncoming semi-truck. 

Whether you had changed lanes while switching stations or it crossed into yours, you didn’t know. Life turned into a hazy blur in those few seconds. Time came to a screeching halt as you lost control of your car. Glass shattered, you felt yourself flip, your forehead went flying into the steering wheel, and then your neck snapped back into the headrest. 

When you came back around, red and blue flashing lights mixed with the high-pitched whirring of an ambulance. It smelled like burnt rubber and gasoline. There were faint voices of cops and someone was calling out to you, but you didn’t understand it. 

Your head was trapped in a fog and nothing made sense. There was a tingling sensation in your leg that wouldn’t go away. When you drifted back into the unconscious void, the feeling was still there. It was the last thing you felt before the world went dark. 

When you wake up in the hospital after a major accident, the main task of nurses and doctors is to keep you relaxed. Putting you in distress can cause a delay in healing of your injuries. It’s important to feed you information a little at a time, especially if you’re not fully there. 

It took you three days of fading in and out of consciousness before you found Bang Chan’s voice and it stuck. As the leader of the group, he had been there from the start. In your phone, he was the first emergency contact. When he first got the call and it was reported that you were in an accident, he thought of the worst things possible. 

Maybe you were brain dead and just barely surviving; forced to use a breathing tube to keep your organs alive. Perhaps, you were unrecognizable in that bed. Your body smashed from blunt force trauma and a brain injury that would leave you the shell of who you once were. 

During the whole ride there, all he could do was clutch his steering wheel and begin to pray for your safety. He flew out of the house still in his pajamas. Shirtless in gray sweatpants, he threw on a black hoodie for the sake of the people he’d encounter. His sneakers were barely tied as he booked it to his car and tried to get to you as fast as possible. 

As for you? The pieces of the puzzle came together once Chan rushed through the double doors. The squeaky sterile floors with too bright white lights. A face full of worry and lips pushed tight together in a straight line of fear. He didn’t have the heart to ask the nurse how you were. 

When he saw you hooked up to the heart rate monitor and a bag of pain meds, he nearly burst into tears. The sight of you covered in scrapes and bruises was haunting. The nurse reassured him that they were doing everything they could to take care of you. 

It took three days until you were awake long enough to hear the details from Chan. You went out on an evening drive to clear your head. They didn’t know what exactly happened, but you lost control of the car and you ended up slamming into a fully grown maple tree. 

In the dead of night, overturned maple leaves fluttered above the car like a protective canopy. The scent of petrichor hung in the ozone. The threat of a severe thunderstorm hanging in the balance made the entire scene so much worse. 

Cops, firefighters, and paramedics mingled as they attempted to get you out of the vehicle to the hospital. You knew you were injured, you remembered the pain in your leg before you fell victim to the darkness. You assumed you broke your leg and maybe, if you were unfortunate enough, maybe in multiple places. 

Out of everything you could have imagined, losing your leg wasn’t one of them. Even hearing the words uttered from Chan’s lips, you couldn’t believe it. You refused to believe any of it until you ripped the wool blanket from over your body. To your surprise, the lower half of your leg was missing. Wrapped in multiple bandages and stitched together with stitches, all you could do was stare in horror while your brain attempted to process the missing limb. 

That was months ago. Days blended together between pain medicine, doctor visits, rehabilitation, occupational therapists, and the new normal. Everyone is different when it comes to amputation. Some people receive prosthetics quicker than others. Some deal with infections and some suffer so much mental anguish that living day to day without a limb, it seems unbearable. 

As for you, you hid the truth about your feelings. The mental torture, the realization that you’d never have both legs, and having to rely on others, it was taking a toll and it had been since it happened. 

You lived your life on your own terms. You always had and you always planned to. Yeah, you were part of the gang, but you were independent as hell. Nobody could tell you what to do unless it was Chan. That was just how it was and how you lived your life. 

Relearning and coping with the new normal, it left you with sleepless nights. On the nights you struggled with phantom limb pain, the feeling of pain where your leg was no longer attached, you kept your crying sessions silent. Through every tingle, cramp, and ache, you kept it to yourself. To the guys, you were a trooper, but in your own head, you were a failure. 

Chan forced you to stay out of missions while you healed. One night, you had enough. On the shiny metal prosthetic, you slammed the door open to the meeting room while Chan was explaining the next mission. 

Your sudden appearance was a shock to everyone, including him. “I want in,” you finally uttered. “I want in this mission and you don’t get to tell me no. If I have to stay here while you all go somewhere again, I’ll lose it.” 

The guys all exchanged glances. Chan’s eyes looked down at the clipboard he was holding. He didn’t look thrilled about it, but he couldn’t say no to you. After a few moments of silence, he finally gestured you to the empty seat that used to be yours. You walked over, sat down, and he began reassigning parts again. 

That was last month and ever since, you were still struggling to cope. Losing a limb is never easy. From the tip of a pinkie being slammed in a car door, a hand being crushed in a factory, to an arm being ripped off via a combine, or a crushed leg in a car accident; no matter how small, they weren’t easy. 

From self-doubt, to shame and embarrassment, the emotional exhaustion when it comes to retelling the story over and over and over again to everyone who asks; losing a limb is hard. The phantom pain that lingers from hours to days, the physical exhaustion from trying to heal, and the mental toll it takes on everyone around you, it’s not always easy to get through. 

Tonight’s mission, you found yourself on the dance floor of some random club. Most members were spread throughout the area with ear-pieces in their ears and you were no different. You found yourself on the dance floor. 

Spinning under dazzling light and feeling the bass blast through you beneath your sturdy feet, you finally felt free. Across the way, Chan and Minho kept an eye on you from a table. To blend in, the two of them had drinks that they seemed to be nursing. 

The rest of the guys were scattered throughout the club. Someone at the front entrance and another at the back. Someone lazily leaned over the balcony above and a few more blended between the lively crowds of drunk and tipsy people. From where you moved around on the dance floor, you knew exactly who you were looking for. Chan had drilled the guy’s appearance into everyone’s brains. Apparently, he crossed Chan and that was unforgivable in Chan’s eyes. 

Whether it was unpaid dues, straight up fuckery, or making threats that’d never be carried out, crossing Chan was like crossing God. The difference between Chan and God was that you could pray and God would forgive you. You could get on your knees and plead for your life in front of Chan, but a dead man was a dead man. 

At a small table, Chan sucked in a deep breath as his nostrils flared. Minho glanced over at Chan and realized he was looking over at you. “You know that they’re fine, right? They’re taking care of themselves pretty well.” 

“I don’t appreciate how many people are approaching them. I don’t like any of it. I should have had them skip this mission.” 

“You can’t keep them from these things forever.” 

“Well, I can fucking try!” He snapped angrily. He stood up and slammed his chair beneath the table. Minho rolled his eyes while Chan’s half-empty glass of whisky spilled outside of the cup. He reached over to clean it up and Chan headed in your direction. 

There was pulsing energy looping around the place, but he couldn’t focus on it. Ever since you lost your leg, he’d been worried about you, they all had. Warm bodies were pressed up against one another. The air inside the bar smelled like cigarette smoke, a faint whiff of alcohol, and the overpowering stench of sweat. 

The alcohol made everyone too warm. The tipsy and swaying dance floor, the beat of the drums, the way the dancers shifted throughout the place and snaked around men like snakes, he hated it. He hated that this was the only place he thought they’d be able to capture the target. 

A hand slithered across his shoulder and he shoved it off. One of the dancers wore a sheer lilac bodysuit. Pale skin shone through the sheerness and he wanted to roll his eyes, but he held it back. Usually, he wouldn’t have cared, but he wanted his attention to focus on you. 

“What’s a hot guy like you doing out here all by yourself? What’s got your dick in a twist? Hmm?” 

“Save it,” he grumbled as he kept walking. 

“I could fix your problems with a private dance.” 

“Not interested.” 

“They’re on sale tonight for-” 

“I said I’m not interested! Get lost!” Too irritated and annoyed, the next group of drunk people he came up to and wouldn’t move, he shoved through them. Not caring that they stumbled and almost fell, his eyes were still set on you. 

On the dance floor, you had been stopped by some middle aged guy. His hand found your hip and when it did, you jerked away instantly. “Don’t do that, I’m not interested.” 

“Aw, come on!” He called out to you. He stepped closer to you and grinned. “A pretty person like you could use a bit o-” 

“I meant what I said.” 

He laughed, not quite believing you. His hand cupped your torso and slid down and that’s when you snapped. Your hands shot out and you shoved the guy back. He stumbled and just barely managed to catch himself. “Hey! What the hell was that for?” 

“Don’t touch me!” 

“What are you going to do about it?” His dark eyebrows furrowed. He stepped closer, nearly pressing his chest right against yours. A feeling of disgust crept up your throat, so you took a step back. 

Upset and feeling frustrated, you spun around to go back to the guys. You wanted to be near people you felt comfortable with. Besides, your prosthetic was starting to irritate your leg anyway. You were used to walking with it and sometimes jumping and running, but you hadn’t used it much to dance. 

When you didn’t put up a fight, the guy saw red. He had been watching you for a while and all he wanted was a dance. Walking away from him hurt his ego. With an angry huff, he jerked his foot out. With a loud clunk, it slammed into the back of your prosthetic leg hard. 

Chan’s eyes widened and he rushed through the crowd to get to you. On the dark floor, a choir of gasps and murmurs echoed around you. A lump built up in your throat at the pain surrounding your stump, but you refused to let tears fall. 

Instead, your shaky fingers reached towards the disconnected limb. The force from the guy and the way you fell, it knocked it right off. You blinked rapidly and fiddled with the velcro strap to tighten it. 

Sweat soaked the end of the stub. The darkness and the glossiness from tears made it difficult to see. You sniffled and just when you thought you might be slowly getting somewhere, Chan dropped to the ground beside you. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

You faintly nodded, but your eyes didn’t meet his. You couldn’t bear to have him see you so weak. In front of this many people, you were already embarrassed. Shame filled you and flooded your system. 

A wave of anger swept over Chan, but he forced it down. He wanted to go after the guy and knock his lights out, but his attention was focused on you. His fingers swept against yours and pulled them away from the fake limb. “I’ve got it, let me.” 

You didn’t fight him because you were exhausted. You were so tired and drained. You wanted to go home and curl beneath the covers. You wanted to cry until it was impossible to cry anymore. You wanted to drown in your tears and self-misery. 

“Did he hurt you?” 

You shook your head. He stood up and reached out for your hands. You let him tug you to your feet and you placed all your weight on your good foot. When his hands move to your hips to steady you, he noticed the shift instantly. A frown filled his face and he scanned you up and down. “Why did you do that?” 

You shrugged, but he wasn’t buying it. He moved your body, so you were forced to evenly distribute your weight. The moment you put weight on your prosthetic, pain shot through your leg. A yelp escaped your mouth and you jerked your weight back to the good leg. 

His eyes went back to your prosthetic and he frowned. His eyes scanned your face, hoping you’d admit the truth. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” you weakly managed to get out. 

He stared at you and a stern look came across his face. “You don’t have to lie to me. I know something is wrong, so just tell me what it is. I want to help you, so please, what’s wrong?” One of his hands reached up to cup your cheek and that’s when your heart free fell. 

You blinked rapidly again, more tears began to well in your eyes. “Not here.” 

A soft sigh escaped his parted lips and he slowly scooped you into his arms. You didn’t fight it as he fought the crowd and managed to get you into the bathroom. He locked the door behind you and walked you over to the porcelain sink. 

It probably wasn’t the best place, but it was the only place for now. You sat along the edge and your legs dangled towards the tiled ground. “What happened?” He tried again as his fingers began to undo your limb. 

“A guy kicked the back of it.” 

“I saw.” 

“It hurt when I fell. The plastic section dug into my stump. There’s scarred tissue and it’s still tender sometimes. It just hurt, that’s all. It’s not a big deal.” 

“I’m going to kill him,” Chan muttered beneath his breath. His fingers worked quickly to remove the limb and the silicone slip that covered your stump. The compression sock that you wore for support beneath it came off next. 

Gentle fingers tenderly worked their way around the amputated leg. Shame filled you once more and your eyes found the ground. This wasn’t the first time that something like this happened and it probably wouldn’t be the last. 

Ever since your leg had been amputated, everything was different. About a month after you were comfortable walking around on your new leg, Chan made everyone learn how to put it on you and take it off. You were so used to being independent, but this had been a major setback. You were forced to rely on people while your leg healed. 

When his fingers slipped across a red inkling marking the side of your leg, you winced. He frowned and his eyes went to meet yours, but you still refused to look at him. 

His voice came out softly when he spoke again. “Why aren’t you looking at me?” You didn’t respond, but he knew. He could see it in the way the glassiness in your eyes built up. Your bottom lip quivered and he knew you were close to cracking. 

“Look at me.” 

When you didn’t, he reached out and gently took your chin. He tilted your head towards him. “I don’t believe you. How bad does it hurt?” 

“Like a rug burn.” 

He shook his head. “No. There’s no way it’s just like that. If you fell and the sides cut into your skin, you have to be hurting a lot. How much does it hurt?” 

“Why does it matter?” 

“Because I care about you.”

“Who cares about a bruised ego?” Your voice was hoarse as the tears finally silently fell down your cheeks. Chan’s heart dropped straight to the pit of his stomach. You reached up and quickly wiped away the falling tears.

“You don’t have to do that, you know. You don’t have to do that thing where you pretend to be strong in front of me. It’s okay if you fall apart. There’s nothing wrong with having a moment to-” 

“I don’t want to have a moment!” You cut him off with a shrill voice. “Who gives a shit about a bruised ego? So what? Life goes on. Whatever.” 

“I give a shit.” 

“I-I wish,” tears slid down your cheeks faster, “I wish I would have died in the car accident. I should have died and I-” 

Out of all the things he had heard you say since the accident, it was never anything like that. His fingers were still cupped around your chin. His fingers tightened their grip and he shook his head. “Don’t say that, you don’t mean that. You don’t mean that you-” 

“I do! I mean it with everything! I mean every fucking word!” 

The limbo he was stuck in at the hospital came rushing back to him. The way he felt like he was suffocating while he waited for you to wake up. The aimless walks around the barren hospital while he waited for your eyes to flutter open, so he could see them again. 

Everyone was holding their breaths and assuming the worst. The group chat kept blowing up, but you never responded. As Chan texted the guys, they didn’t want to believe it. The prayers, the worry, the fear that they’d never see you alive again. 

“You don’t mean it,” he whispered. “Don’t say that, you don’t understand.” 

“It would have been better than-” 

“It wouldn’t have been better for anyone! You’re part of our family!” His voice came out exasperated. “You don’t know what it was like to wonder if you were ever going to wake up again! Do you have any idea how much you even mean to us? Stop saying that!” 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” 

“Stop being so stubborn! Stop acting like it’d have been better if you died! Stop acting like you don’t care! I never want to hear you say anything like that ever again!” 

“You don’t get it!” Your voice grew louder. “You have no fucking clue what it’s like!” You slapped his hand away and watched his face fall with shock. 

 “I don’t know what it’s like?” He scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t know what it’s like? Bullshit! Do you know what it’s like when someone you love is on the brink of death?” 

“Stop making this about you! It’s not and it never has been!” The tears were hot rolling down your cheeks. It was a pool of lava around your heart bubbling and now it was exploding. “You’re not the one missing a leg! It’s not about you, it’s about me! You don’t have to wake up feeling useless every fucking morning!” 

“Don’t say that, you’re not useless. No matter how many limbs you have, you’re not useless.” 

“Every time we go out on missions, I’m not trusted anymore. I’m constantly being watched by everyone. The attention is on me and not on the surroundings. If something happens one day and someone gets hurt because I-” Your voice cut off. 

“That’s not going to happen,” he tried to reason with you. 

“You don’t know that. I-I don’t need to be watched all the time. I don’t need to be treated like a kid.” 

You were killing him. It was killing him internally to see you so broken and so vulnerable. You were always so independent and so fierce that he never considered how much their actions could be hurting you. 

His hands gently cupped your cheeks and he wiped your eyes. “We just want you to be safe. We’re worried about you and we almost lost you once. We can’t bear to nearly lose you again.” 

“I can’t even cook without being supervised. I can’t go shopping at the mall alone. I can’t go get coffee like I used to without someone tagging along. I can’t even go on a simple walk around the block. I have to be followed by someone and practically walked around like a dog.” 

“I-” 

“Save it! I-I’m grown and I know I almost died, but I-” You were practically choking back sobs. You could feel the warmth of his hand cupping your cheek, but you couldn’t see the worry and guilt in his eyes through your tears. 

You couldn’t see how much your words were physically killing him and causing him pain. He wanted you to be able to do things yourself, but he was terrified. He was so afraid of losing you that it was easier to capture you in a metaphorical cage than let you go free. 

At least, if you were with the guys, he knew you’d be safe. If you fell, they’d be there to help you. If your prosthetic hurt your leg, they could carry you to safety. They’d go to the ends of the earth to protect you, but along the way, he had forgotten what it must have been like for you. 

To constantly have someone hanging and looming over your shoulder in the background. No wonder you were so upset to the point that you were breaking down in front of him. He was so worried about you, he forgot the amount of stress and guilt that was eating you up too. 

Instead of speaking, he pulled you tight into his chest. You sobbed as your head curled protectively into his neck. In his arms, the outside world couldn’t get to you. The weight of the world wasn’t yours anymore, it was pulled away and lingered above. You could finally breathe for a few moments. 

The steady pulse of Chan’s heartbeat thrummed against your cheek. A hand gently came back to your back to soothe you and the gesture caused you to cry harder. You were so mentally exhausted and tired. Everything seemed to be a nightmare and it never stopped. 

Life without a limb was hard for everyone involved. From family and friends to the potential love of your life, it was difficult. New challenges were faced and fears were unlocked. As Chan soothed you, he forced himself to calm down. 

As much as it scared him and frightened him, he had to let go of all those fears. It wasn’t fair to keep you held captive. You deserved to feel like you had your independence back and he hated how weak he had accidentally made you feel. 

The only place he wanted to keep you captive was just like this; in his arms, right where you belonged to begin with. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

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[womicatly]

Synopsis: You met in college, when Geto introduced you, he has philophobia, despite this he was madly in love with you.

Painting. Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

Content. MDNI. fem!reader, enemies-to-lovers, philophobia, creampies,oral (fem), swearing, spitting, pussy-slapping, female and masculine masturbation, pregnancy quote, explicit content,big cock, fingering, smut, anything else I may have forgotten.

There he was, a disheveled mess of feelings, he looked at you as if only that could calm the pounding heart in his perfectly sculpted chest, oh that man was a vision of the gods, a feast for the eyes.

The man was panting, you knew him better than anyone, he was insecure, fearful of any decision he had made.

— "I think I'm in love with you [Name], it scares me" — the words reverberated through the vast immensity of the dark and starry night, there was a wide layer of stars visible that night, although your vision was purely fixed on the white complex in front of you— "I know this came up suddenly, but I've been spending my early mornings awake, you've been on my damn mind for a long time, I need you to stop this." — the man reinforced the epigraph, he was panting, perhaps from the arduous race to get there before you fell asleep.

You were friends, college brought you together like nothing else would, Suguru introduced you when you were still in high school, you never separated after that, you were like flesh and nail, you got along like no one else, you shared the same humor and understood each other, despite that, none of the scenarios you shared could be considered profitable when in general you were completely tied to the weight of insecurities held back like prophecies.

You had drifted apart a long time ago, you didn't even know where you were, this feeling had been taking over you more and more, you had changed, you were no longer the reckless and impulsive children of 7 years ago, you were different now, you were mature, aware of your own actions, thinking about it brought you anguish, you no longer knew people you used to cling to like a puppy.

You came back to reality when your heart pounded, an inevitable reaction made only for him. A long time had passed, but you were still susceptible to glimpses of love. You were really a fool, believing like a theist believes in his God, like a prognosis dictated by some prophet.

— "What are you doing here, Satoru?"— your voice sounded tremulous, embroidered with the lines of longing and pain. You longed for him to understand your emotions, even though he was here, standing at your door like a curse brought by your past while the clock made its second complete turn.

— "Why are you asking me something you know the answer to? Are you expecting to receive a different answer? I already told you why I'm here"— the sentence sounded rude, exactly like when he started to move away from you. Well, after all, Satoru was still the arrogant egotist you had known.

You laughed, although the taste was bitter, as much as a lemon, your words sounded treacherous to your own feelings, you wished he would come back and apologize for his actions unworthy of pride or words of exaltation — "I see that you are still the same man I knew, childish like a child, do you still think it's nice to yell at your parents or have you passed that phase?" — A deafening silence permeated the entrance to the house until a deep sigh escaped through your half-open lips — "If you came to test my patience and tell me lies, I ask you to leave, I don't feel like dealing with you now"

His lips curved into an indecipherable expression, since he became impassive and stoic with you it was unreal that you could interpret the expression that took over the platinum-haired man's face — "Is that what you think of me? That I'm at the door of your house desperate only for lies?"

— "What?"— the voice sounded broken again, the displeasure of the memories made itself present in your exhausted brain again, your eyes threatened to tear up, although you refused to admit that you were both cut from the same cloth and that you were as proud as Satoru.

— "Did you really think that? Listen carefully."— He approached, swallowing hard, he really didn't want to throw the confession at you, but for some reason, he was simply unable to keep it to himself, repeating next — I'm in love with you.

They were direct and clear words, impossible not to understand, any observer in the background noticed the man's apprehension, his palms were sweating, he didn't know how to deal with things like love, he was a man of one-night stands, but such a name was a mask for the absolute truth: he was afraid of love.

— "Are you crazy? The Satoru I know isn't like that, who are you and what did you do to him?"— The words had a hint of humor, as if trying to alleviate the stress that was sneaking up the small stairs of the small apartment's initial passage.

— "Don't pretend to know me, we haven't seen each other in 7 years, [Name], you know that very well and you know what? I've been going crazy all these years thinking about you 24/7 and it's been like hell, even though I'm addicted"— The statement made her cheeks genuinely burn, probably because she was would be painted a pastel pink shade at that moment.

— "But... you've never dated, not that I know of at least."— Your voice sounded curious at the same time as it reflected on the situation. You had never considered the idea of ​​having your feelings reciprocated years after all the misunderstandings.

— "Yeah, because I don't want to deal with that romantic crap. Being alone seems simpler. I don't understand how people fall in love, how they have the energy to care so much about another person to the point that it consumes them."—Your voice was like that of an unstable little boy.

— "What are you doing here then?"—You asked, trying your best to prohibit the understanding thoughts that were incessantly arising in the deepest part of your brain. Maybe Gojo suffered from philophobia?

Satoru's gaze fixed on yours at the simple question. He looked away as his expression turned into a mixture of irritation and sadness. “No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I say, you’re still on my mind. I can’t have a moment of peace without you popping into my head.” Satoru clenched his fists as his gaze lingered on your lips, the sight of them, parted, stirring lustful desires in the man. You were the epitome of fascination, even when all you did was exist. Although he wasn’t a watchful man, no matter what you did or didn’t do, just the sight of you would be more than enough to make him want to pray. Gojo stood in front of you, his presence overwhelming. Before you could protest, he stepped forward, and with one swift movement, he pushed you into the house, closing the door behind him with a soft bang. The sound echoed through the silent apartment, but all you could focus on was the closeness of your body to his. His blue eyes shone with an almost dangerous intensity, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as you realized how close he was.

— "Satoru, what are you...?" — Your voice trailed off, choked by the sudden intimacy of the situation. Your back met the cold wall of the room, the shock of temperature contrasting with the heat emanating from his body, now mere inches from yours.

Gojo smiled, but it wasn't the provocative smile you were used to seeing. This one was different, loaded with something darker, more carnal. He raised his hand, long, pale fingers closing around your chin, tilting your face so that your eyes met his. — "Do you really think you can keep avoiding me? Do you think you can run away from me, [Name]?"

Your breathing quickened, the tension in the air becoming almost palpable. His scent was intoxicating, a mix of freshness and something indescribably masculine, that made your body respond instinctively. You wanted to push him away, tell him this was a mistake, but your words were lost when he leaned in, his lips hovering close to your ear.

“You have no idea what you’ve done to me,” he whispered, his voice low and husky, making your senses light up. The touch of his warm breath on your skin made you close your eyes for a moment, trying to gather the strength to resist his overwhelming magnetism.

Gojo pulled back just enough for your gazes to meet again, his fingers still holding your chin with surprising firmness. His eyes swept every detail of your face, as if he was absorbing every nuance of your expression. Then, almost as a punishment, he leaned forward, his lips touching yours with a deceptive softness.

It was a kiss that began almost as a question, exploring, testing your limits. His taste was intoxicating, and before you knew it, you were responding, your mouth moving against his, as if the long-suppressed desire was finally finding an outlet.

The kiss deepened, his fingers now sliding down your neck, pressing lightly, as if he wanted to feel the accelerated rhythm of your pulse. Your hands, once hesitant, now held his shoulders, as if seeking some kind of anchorage in this whirlwind of emotions.

He pressed his body against yours, your hips meeting in a perfect fit, and you felt the hardness of his body against yours. It was a closeness that made your heart beat wildly, and a heat spread through your body in a way you couldn't ignore.

"Why do you fight it?" he murmured against your lips, his voice husky, full of desire and frustration. His eyes were fixed on yours, so close that you could see the conflict in them, the fear mixed with the desire. "Why keep pretending you don't feel the same way?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but any words that were about to come out were lost when he kissed you again, this time with more intensity, more need. It was a kiss that made it clear how much he wanted you, how much he was willing to ready to break down any barrier you put between you.

Your body reacted despite any rational thought, your skin crawling with every touch, with every movement of your lips against his. The wall behind you seemed to be the only thing keeping you upright as he explored your reactions, every touch of his fingers, every press of his body against yours, sending waves of heat that threatened to consume you completely.

You knew you were on the edge of a dangerous precipice, where the lines between reason and desire were quickly blurring. But in that moment, with Gojo Satoru so close, so real, so irresistibly tempting, it was hard to remember why you had ever wanted to run away from this.

Gojo didn’t seem to be in a hurry, but the urgency of his movements revealed the pent-up desire that was building up between the two of you. His mouth moved with precision over yours, alternating between soft kisses and teasing bites on your lower lip, enough to make you gasp involuntarily. His fingers slid down her neck, down the line of her collarbone until they found their way under the collar of her shirt, where her skin was most sensitive. The touch of his fingers against her bare skin sent a shiver through her body that made her shiver, an immediate and uncontrollable response. The sound of her ragged breathing seemed amplified in the silence of the room, as he explored her every reaction with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. Gojo wasn't just a natural tease, he was a man who had mastered the art of seduction. And at that moment, he was determined to disarm her completely. "Holy shit, when did you dominate me like this, princess?" he murmured, his lips hovering over her jaw as he traced a path of kisses along her neck, each one slower and more deliberate than the last. The sound of his low, husky voice in your ear made your body react treacherously, your head tilting to give him more access, even as your mind screamed that this was wrong.

But when Gojo spoke, there was no room for regrets or doubts, only for the overwhelming feeling of shared desire. — "I spent so long trying to ignore this, [Name]. Trying to pretend that you weren't inside my head, that it wasn't you that I wanted... But here we are, and now that I'm here, I won't stop."

His fingers found their way to the curve of your waist, where he pulled you closer, making your bodies meet in a pressure that was both intoxicating and unbearable. With every movement, with every touch, it felt like he was burning down your defenses, one by one, until all that was left was the raw, undeniable truth: you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

You could feel the tension in his body, the muscles in his arms tightly defined, as if he was holding himself back with every fiber of his being to keep from going too far, too fast. But even in that control, there was a palpable danger, a promise that if you made one false step, he would take everything he was offering.

— "Satoru..." — His name escaped your lips, a mix of warning and plea. Your mind was struggling to maintain some sense of rationality, but your body was in complete betrayal, moving involuntarily in response to him, seeking more of the touch that was setting you on fire inside.

Gojo lifted his head, looking directly into your eyes, and what you saw there was the perfect combination of desire and vulnerability. He was exposing something he had probably never shown to anyone: the depth of his feelings, the fear of love that haunted him, and the way you broke all his resistance.

— “I know I shouldn’t be doing this,” he admitted, his voice deep, almost regretful, as his fingers traced the contour of your waist, slowly moving up your back. “But damn, I can’t fight it anymore.”

With that last confession, Gojo leaned in again, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both desperate and possessive. There was an intensity that went beyond physical attraction, it was the kind of kiss that spoke of years of repressed desire, of emotions he’d tried to stifle but that were finally escaping his control.

His fingers tightened around your waist with palpable need, and you felt his heat seep through the thin layers of fabric that separated you. It was as if each touch was a silent promise of something more, something you hadn’t explored yet but that you both knew was about to happen.

He pulled away just enough to look at you, his blue eyes dark with desire, his lips parted as he fought to control his breathing. — "Tell me to stop," he said, almost as a challenge, but also as a plea. — "Tell me to stop, and I will. But if you don't don't tell me, [Name]... I won't hold back."

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and for a moment that seemed to last an eternity, the world was reduced to the heat of his body against yours, the intensity of his gaze, the closeness of his lips. It was a decision that you knew would change everything between you.

But when you opened your mouth to speak, the words that came out were not the ones he expected.

"I don't want you to stop," you whispered, and that simple admission seemed to set the last of Gojo's restraint ablaze.

He didn't wait any longer. His lips crashed down on yours with renewed ferocity, and this time, there was no hesitation. His hands slid over your skin with the urgency of someone who had waited too long, and as he pulled you even closer to him, you knew this was going to be the best sex of your life.

The air around you seemed to grow thick, charged with an almost tangible electricity as Gojo's touch grew more intense. intimate, more needy. He didn’t hesitate as he slid his hands over your body, his long fingers exploring every curve, every contour, as if he wanted to memorize the feel of your skin against his.

The sensation was incendiary, each touch making your skin burn as if he were tracing lines of fire on you. When he pressed his body against yours, you felt the weight of his desire, the palpable urgency in his movements. His hands, once hesitant, now moved firmly, one hand gripping the base of your spine, pulling you against him, while the other moved up your back, pausing just long enough to unbutton your shirt with a precision that could only come from practice, but the impatience in his fingers betrayed his haste.

When the fabric slid down your shoulders, exposing your skin to the cool air, the sensation was a stark contrast to the heat of his body pressed against yours. He let out a husky sound of approval, his blue eyes becoming almost predatory as he took his time to admire the sight of you, partially undressed before him. But he didn’t just stare for long. In one swift movement, Gojo leaned down, his mouth finding its way to your neck, where he placed hot, wet kisses, his tongue gliding teasingly over the sensitive skin.

Every touch of his tongue, every press of his lips, sent waves of pleasure radiating throughout your body, making your legs tremble. It was an addictive sensation, and you found yourself unable to resist, your fingers burying themselves in his white hair, pulling him even closer, as if you needed every shred of contact between you to calm the flame he had lit.

“Satoru…” His name escaped your lips in a shaky whisper, his voice thick with need, with desire. But before you could say anything else, he interrupted you, lightly nibbling on your earlobe, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

His response was immediate, as if every sound you made fueled the fire inside you. He pressed his hips against yours, and you could feel his hardness against your body, undeniable evidence of his desire. The sensation was overwhelming, making your heart beat even faster, as if it were about to explode in your chest. Your bodies were so close that the friction between you became almost unbearable, each movement generating a new wave of pleasure that seemed to burn under your skin.

Gojo seemed to be delighting in your every reaction, his lips moving along the line of your shoulder, down your collarbone, while his hands explored more intimate territories. He slid one hand down, past the curve of your waist until it stopped at the edge of your high-waisted denim shorts where his skilled fingers began to unbutton the fabric, moving with a mixture of eagerness and haste, as if time were both an enemy and an ally in that moment.

The sound of the zipper being pulled was muffled by the pounding of your heart, but the anticipation that followed was almost unbearable. When he finally slid his hand inside the fabric, his cool fingers meeting your warm skin and the soaked fabric of your panties, the sensation was so intense that you let out a ragged gasp. Gojo's hand moved with surprising familiarity, as if he knew exactly where to touch to pull every sigh, every moan from your lips.

He pressed you against the wall, his lips never leaving your skin, moving back to the curve of your neck as his fingers explored the heat of your body with a slow, teasing rhythm, each touch making you writhe beneath him. It was as if he was reveling in prolonging the moment, keeping you on the edge of the precipice without ever letting you fall.

“You’re so… perfect” he murmured against your skin, his voice husky and thick with desire, his eyes closed as he held you close lost in the feeling of you beneath his fingers. The inside of your pussy swallowed his fingers in a fucking delicious way, the wet noises echoing through the room like a prophecy — "I never thought I'd be here, doing this... But now that I am, I want to keep going until you can't move properly."

You gasped as he pressed his fingers a little deeper, exploring your every reaction with an almost scientific knowledge, as if he was mapping every sensitive spot on your body. The sensation was almost overwhelming, and you found yourself holding him tighter, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your head fell back, your lips parted as you tried to breathe.

— "Satoru... please..." — Your voice came out as a sigh, a plea that you barely knew how to complete. All you knew was that you wanted more, needed more, and he seemed more than willing to fulfill that desire.

— "Fuck, fuck, holy shit, girl, that mouth of yours is going to kill me, be quiet, please" — Gojo whispered against your skin, a satisfied and almost arrogant smile, before capturing your lips again in a deep and passionate kiss, as if he were sealing a pact between you. At the same time, his fingers moved with more determination, more intensity, eliciting from you a response that could not be described as anything other than pure pleasure.

Your eyes met his, full of silent provocation. You could feel the weight of his desire, like an electric current between you. When your hands finally moved, it was as if time had slowed down. Your fingers slid slowly down his firm chest, tracing the outline of his god-sculpted muscles through his shirt, feeling the texture of the fabric before boldly moving to his warm, bare skin.

You heard the soft sigh that escaped his lips as your fingers began to explore the line of his abdomen, moving up to his chest, while your eyes never left his. There was a glint in your eyes, something that said you knew exactly the effect you were having, and that you were enjoying every second of it.

— "Satoru..." — Your voice came out as a seductive murmur, full of unspoken promises. — "You always thought you were so in control, didn't you? But look at you now..."

The provocation was clear, and his reaction was immediate. He growled low, his eyes shining with a mix of frustration and desire, but he didn't pull away, instead, he let himself be guided by your hands, his own movements becoming less controlled, more desperate.

You slowly lowered one hand, your fingers tracing a dangerous trail as they explored lower, passing along his waistline until they found the button of his pants. The touch was light, almost ghostly, but enough to make his muscles contract in anticipation.

— "You like this, don't you?" — You whispered, a smile playing on your lips. — "You like to see me like this, taking the reins." He tried to answer, but his voice failed when you opened his pants with a quick gesture, sliding your hand inside to touch the warm skin that was waiting for you, he was hard as hell. The ragged sigh he let out was music to your ears, and you reveled in the feeling of having him under your control, even if only for a moment. Your hand moved with a gentle firmness, your fingers exploring, pressing the glans as you caressed the skin with care and firmness. And he shivered, his body reacting to the touch with an intensity that made pleasure ripple through you, feeding the flame inside your own body. — "Hold on tighter," He said as he moved his hips, fucking your grip around his cock, one of his hands going to yours, guiding the strength with which you should hold him while the other continued to move in your wet pussy. —You don't order me around — You said, your gaze focused on his blue eyes that seemed to beg you to become obedient at that moment.

Your own hands began to tremble slightly as they explored, pressed, drawing sighs and moans from him that made your own body feel empty despite his fingers moving inside you incessantly.

— "You're... unbearable..." — He murmured, his voice hoarse as he tried to regain control, but you just smiled.

— "Just enjoy it, Satoru..." — You whispered back, your voice full of promises and moans that you could barely suppress despite your great effort.

As you continued to tease him, you felt a wave of pleasure rise through your own body. His touches became more intense, your own legs trembling as he finally reacted, pulling you towards him with an urgency that made you gasp. He was on the edge, and so were you, each touch, each movement building the tension until it became almost unbearable. You were so fucking close to cumming that you barely noticed when your fingers left the hardened flesh to scratch his back with a force that made them remain there like temporary tattoos.

When you were on the edge of ecstasy, your body already trembling, he stopped. His fingers, which had previously moved with precision and intention, now remained still, leaving you adrift in a sea of ​​unsatisfied desire. The shock of being interrupted at that moment was so intense that you let out a groan of frustration, your body still trembling with the need for something more, something he was deliberately withholding from you.

Gojo looked up, a dangerous and provocative glint in his blue eyes. He knew exactly what he was doing, and the satisfaction in his smile showed that he was enjoying it.

"Not so fast, princess," he murmured, his voice husky and full of desire. "I want to enjoy every second of this, every second of you."

Your breathing was ragged, your heartbeat was racing, and the heat in your body felt like it was about to consume you completely. But he wasn’t in a hurry, and his ruthless control only increased the desire you felt.

Gojo pulled his fingers away from your pussy, but he didn’t pull away from you. Instead, he moved down slowly, his hands exploring the path he was about to follow with his mouth. The heat of his breath was a prelude to what was to come, and you felt every muscle in your body tense in anticipation.

“Satoru…” Your name escaped your lips like a pleading sigh, but he only smiled, his lips brushing your skin with a torturous lightness.

“Only I can make you feel this, can’t I?” he whispered against your skin, his voice a combination of trust and lust.

You didn’t have a chance to respond before you felt the heat of his mouth replace the touch of his fingers, he spat on your pussy, the cold saliva came into contact with the warm, wet skin due to the natural fluids of his own body, he gave a few light slaps there smiling at you, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of your pussy. The sensation was overwhelming, a wave of pleasure that left you gasping, gripping the sheets tightly as he worked you with a dedication that seemed inconceivable for a man like him, who never allowed himself this kind of intimacy with any other woman.

Gojo was a man who did this casually, but something about you had the power to break his rules, to make him want to taste every part of you, to make him want to prioritize your pleasure over his own. The way he moved, alternating between soft kisses and firm licks, made you feel like you were being devoured by a fire that only he could light.

Every sound you made, every sigh, moan and tremor of your body, seemed to feed him, intensifying the way he explored you. He held you tight, keeping you in place as he slowly brought you back to the brink of ecstasy, but without the rush of before. Now, he was in complete control, and you were completely at the mercy of his will.

Your body began to arch involuntarily, the need growing again, but this time he didn't make you wait. When you felt the pressure building once more, he intensified his movements, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to take you to the peak of pleasure you so desired.

And when it finally happened, when your body could no longer resist and gave in to the pleasure he was providing, it was as if every part of you had caught fire. Your body contracted, the explosion of sensations tearing a scream from your lips, as he continued, taking you deeper and deeper into this spiral of ecstasy.

When everything finally began to calm down, you realized that he was still there, his lips still gently brushing your skin, as if he wanted to savor every moment, every reaction he had drawn from you. The satisfied smile he gave you as he climbed back up to meet your eyes only confirmed what you already knew: he had savored every second.

When Gojo finally pulled away, his eyes met yours, and there was a dark intensity there, something that went beyond the usual teasing. He slowly climbed over you, his body pressing against yours, creating an unbearable tension. Every movement was calculated, every touch felt charged with lust.

“You’re so selfish, you know that?” he murmured, his voice husky and full of desire. His eyes glittered as he leaned closer, his lips almost touching yours. “Don’t you think I deserve to feel that too?”

You barely had time to respond before he shifted his hips, positioning himself between your legs. Anticipation built inside you, the heat of the moment heightened by the way he held your hips firmly, keeping you in place as he prepared himself for what was to come next.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to fuck that dirty pussy of yours…” he whispered, leaning down so his lips brushed yours shell of your ear. — "How many have fucked you?"

You felt his body pressing against yours, and the sensation of his size, hard and aching, brought a mixture of excitement and apprehension. He was big, and the idea of ​​what was about to happen sent a shiver down your spine.

— "Cat got your tongue, princess?" — He asked, his voice full of teasing, but also with a touch of genuine concern, he didn't even care that some man had entered there before him, he knew he would make you feel much better than any other son of a bitch could dream of doing.

He began to enter slowly, the pressure intensifying as he advanced. Your eyes closed instinctively, and you felt his body moving carefully, despite the obvious desire to simply lose control. He was trying not to hurt you, but the feeling of fullness was overwhelming, making you gasp as you tried to adjust to his size.

— "Slow down..." — He murmured, his hips thrusting forward and backward in a slow, controlled rhythm. — "I don't want to hurt you... But you're making this so hard."

Each movement was a mixture of pleasure and slight pain as you adjusted, but soon the pain began to fade, replaced by a wave of pure pleasure. He continued to move forward, filling you completely, until your bodies were completely joined, and the feeling was almost unbearable, so good, if it had a name other than pleasure, it would be heaven.

— "You're going to satisfy me too, aren't you?" — He teased, moving slowly, with a control that seemed ready to unravel at any moment. — "I want you to feel how much I want you... How much I need you."

Your body reacted to every movement, each thrust of his causing waves of pleasure that reverberated throughout your being. The combination of intimacy, desperate desire, and growing pleasure was almost too much to bear, but you didn't want him to stop. In truth, all you wanted was more.

When he finally found a rhythm that was both slow and deep, something inside you ignited again. The pleasure grew in you, and each thrust of his brought you closer to the edge, each word, each touch, fueling the fire that burned between you. He was completely in control, but at the same time, he was giving in, moving with a need that was almost palpable.

And when he lost the control he was fighting so hard to maintain, his movements became faster, more intense, causing you to come undone under his cock, it was something almost transcendental. The feeling of him inside you, the way he filled every part of you, was like nothing you had ever experienced.

Gojo mumbled unintelligible words, losing himself in the sensation, he had completely surrendered to you, just as you had to him. Satoru watched your body, arched beneath him, seeming to radiate an ethereal, almost intangible beauty. The contrast of your skin against his, the sheen of sweat on your forehead, the way your hair fell messily around your face, all contributed to an image he would never dare forget. As he moved inside you for the last time, he felt your body tighten around him. The heat of your pussy enveloped him, and the feeling of you cumming because of him, losing yourself in the pleasure, was enough to make him cum. Your face was taken over by an expression of pure ecstasy, your lips parted in a silent sigh, your eyes closed as you gave yourself completely to the moment. To Gojo, it was as if he was witnessing something divine, something that only he had the privilege of seeing and feeling. Every little tremor, every involuntary movement of your body as you clenched around him, intensified his own pleasure. He let out a deep groan, almost a growl, as he surrendered to his climax. Your body tensed, muscles tensing as he released all the pent-up tension, filling you with hot liquid, each wave of pleasure reverberating through him in an overwhelming way. His eyes remained fixed on you, taking in every detail, etching the image of you into his mind.

The moment he finally reached his peak, he felt you tighten one last time around him, the heat and pressure nearly taking his breath away. The intensity of everything that was happening, the pleasure, the intimacy, the mystical beauty that you radiated, made him let out a guttural sound, deeply satisfied and at the same time reverent, as if he were thanking you for this moment.

He held himself there, inside you, feeling the last waves of pleasure wash over him, each second prolonged by the deep connection that you shared. And as your bodies finally began to relax, he couldn't help but look at you, admiring the sight of the woman who had the power to transform him completely, that had made him want to savor every part of her, body and soul, that had made him fall in love.

As soon as he took his own cock out of you, he smiled seeing his own cum dripping out of you, he ran his thumb through the liquid injecting it back into your pussy "What do you think about having a baby?"