#guy who just got out of a bath.
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deermouth · 10 months ago
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I think my biggest rich people fantasy, when I indulge, is having my own pool and hot tub. I take a lot of baths to microdose just being able to go float or kick around whenever I want.
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fragiledate · 6 months ago
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AHHH
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chickensoupleg · 10 months ago
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oooh ok if you’re wanting prompts- robin chrissy and heather’s days off finally align, but they all have different things they want to do together. do they bicker? make a plan? compromise?? 👀
So I'm imagining they all have entirely separate jobs because of course they do. Robin's got her job doing whatever, let's say she's managed to snag a job (With Steve of course that's her work best friend never leave home without him) at the local Waffle House so her work hours are weird and sometimes she's going to bed the moment her wives wake up, Chrissy is working as a gymnastic coach, and Heather has somehow gotten herself into being a volunteer firefighter. Chrissy has the most flexible schedule (Get it) out of all of them.
They do love their jobs, but man is it brutal on their date nights.
Eventually they do manage to get a weekend together, and of course they don't want to waste it!
Problem is the how. Heather just wants to have a normal date night so she wants to go out and eat after a nice walk around town. Robin doesn't want to be near a restaurant because she is positive the waitress mentality will embarrass her in front of everyone ('Babe you work at a Waffle House it's not that fancy.') ('Heather baby my sweet sweet flaming ball of my miserable yet enchanting life I will accidentally walk into the kitchen if I'm not careful.') ('... Robbie why would you be in the kitchen?') ('Tickets.') ('Ah.')
Chrissy wants to spend the entire time in the house, cuddled up with each other and being lesbian wives doing lesbian wife things like holding hands and see how close they are to succumbing to building furniture for fun. As sweet and relaxing as that sounds somehow it feels like a waste just being home and doing absolutely nothing. They're not gonna have this much time again for a long while they might as well use it! (They do sleep in bed a little longer together regardless. Chrissy is a lump in the blankets, Robin has sprawled over everything, and Heather is octopused around the closest things which are usually either her girls or a pillow)
Robin wants to commit crimes of the loving but frankly a little concerning kind.
We can't let Robin commit crimes.
No matter how much Chrissy and Heather also want to commit crimes.
So they do bicker for a while over the span of a week before the actual days off in the form of many, many sticky notes stuck to bathroom mirrors, passing conversations, muttered sleepy time musings, messengers in the form of sending whoever they could convince to go between work places, phone calls, and even one (1) point in time where they were just in the same bathroom together.
In the end they ask Steve, date-life extraordinaire, for advice, who just tells them (in a fit of this man was rudely awoken) something about how girls like spas and stargazing. He's totally making something up.
It gives Robin an idea immediately, even if it makes no sense and takes a little convincing. A nice and relaxing spa day followed by shuffling off into the wilderness and laying underneath the stars! Perfect! No sitting around at home but also plenty of relaxation and being all date-y!
(It ends up being the greatest date night ever.)
(Even though Steve is a little worried when Robin came back with a photo of them in a tree while a bear was sniffing around at the bottom.)
(And when Heather came in to regale the tale of how Robin does not believe she could wrestle a bear.)
(... And how Chrissy accidentally kicked a bear in the face and apologised as told by Chrissy herself.)
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ranma0 · 6 months ago
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Notes from a concerned medical professional who reads too much hurt/comfort:
(These are all things I've seen in Hazbin/Helluva fanfics)
(Tw: for injury, illness, gore, drug use, overdose, a lot of other things)
You cannot drug someone to sleep by overdosing them on melatonin. It will not work
Don't submerge an open wound or stitches in a bathtub/pool/etc it will introduce bacteria to the wound (taking a shower is usually fine, just skip the romantic bath)
On that note, stitches do not immediately stop a wound from bleeding and should not be used to solve every problem (never give yourself stitches unless you have absolutely no other choice they can trap infection inside the body when done incorrectly)
And, if the wound is extremely deep, a person may need several layers of stitches to piece together the skin, muscle, and viscera
You absolutely cannot get high on tylenol or ibuprofen even if you mix it with alcohol.
If you do mix tylenol or ibuprofen with alcohol it can cause internal bleeding/kidney damage/liver failure, so please don't do that
If someone is shivering from a high fever, don't cover them in blankets it will raise their body temperature even more (please try correctly dosed tylenol or ibuprofen for this)
Don't submerge someone with a high fever in ice water, they might go into shock (they also might panic and hurt themselves) in a pinch lukewarm water will do
Don't put ice on burns, run them under lukewarm or cool water instead
If someone overdoses on an opoid (heroin, morphine, various pain medications), there is a medicine called nalaxone (Narcan) that can reverse the effects of opioids (edit: thank you to @queerlybehooved)
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If someone is bleeding profusely, don't just hold their head and whisper sweet nothings, put pressure on the wound!!!
If a bullet remains in a person’s body after being shot it most likely should not be dug out unless it's blocking something vital, the bullet is not the problem the damage it made in it's path is
This isn't a criticism of authors who have written things like this. A lot of it isn't common knowledge, and DIY healthcare is absolutely steeped in myth and misinformation. I just worry about disinformation being perpetuated (and I really enjoy accurate hurt/comfort)
If I got anything wrong, please let me know, and I'll edit the post. I'm far from perfect and appreciate good advice
Let me know if you guys want a fic rec list of my favorite Hazbin Hotel whump fics
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 28 days ago
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three times
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a/n: some time ago i asked you guys on a poll what dude you wanted in this story and you all chose bucky, so here it is! also, i partly blame you all for how unhinged it turned out... like you get maybe 6,69% of the blame for the push you gave me... the rest is just me being a hoe
summary: a tale of the three times a nurse was kidnapped by new york’s most notorious gang. 
warnings: dark!mob boss!bucky barnes x nurse!reader x doctor!peter parker, smut, dark content, noncon/dubcon, mob au, mobsters!steve rogers, clint barton, tony stark, scott lang, bruce banner, the gang is called the avengers, doctor!kate bishop, enemies to lovers, kidnapping, violence, weapons, blood, being drugged, alcohol consumption, possessiveness, kissing, clothed x completely naked, panty sniffing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, gaping, belly bulge, oral, fingering, fisting, pussyjob, in bucky's mind it's brat taming, dumbification, impact play, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, somno, bondage, mild knife play, mild gunplay, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cumplay
word count: 11.574
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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You flinched jaggedly as the dark cloth bag was finally ripped off your head. Eyes immediately squinting, they still strained to take in the unfamiliar space you’d been dragged to. 
You were no longer in the hospital’s dark parking lot, nor were you in the black van you’d suddenly been tossed into, but instead, you found yourself in a dark living room. It was elegantly decorated, from the Persian rug to the dramatic, antique fireplace flicking behind the cluster of suit-clad criminals glaring down at you. 
“This her?” one of them grumbled. 
“Yep, one doctor as per your request,” the one who’d abducted you grinned, proudly planting a palm on his hip, “even choose a pretty one just for shits and giggles,” his starkly different mannerisms only made the others seem that much more intimidating. 
The broad-figured one with a shock of sandy hair then stepped closer to where you stood, “alright, here’s the thing, doc,” his head tilted slightly to get on your level as he spoke to you directly, “you’re gonna do exactly as we say and then everything will be alright, okay?” he stared in your eyes as you offered him a shaky nod, “okay,” he exhaled, “you got a name?”
“Y/n Y/l/n…” you uttered before hearing yourself try to correct, “but I–…”
“But what?” the same man croaked. 
“I-I’m not a doctor…”
“God damn it!” someone rumbled as everyone’s eyes flicked to the man who’d captured you, “we can’t fucking trust the new guy to do anything.”
“Well, she’s wearing scrubs,” he tried, frantically gesturing to your uniform, “I just thought–”
“You fucked up, Lang!” the first man who you’d heard speak barked loudly, “and now we’re not just gonna lose one of our brothers tonight, but also the head of the snake. Great fucking job,” a sharp click then caused your eyes to find the gun he yanked out, “and now she gotta die as well–”
“Wait!” you shrieked as both of your palms shot up in the air, “no! Please don’t kill me! I-I’m a nurse! I’m a nurse! I can help! Whoever’s hurt, I can help!”
Seemingly superior to the others present, the blonde one stared at you intensely for a while before exhaling a verdict, “shit… well, I guess it’s better than nothing…” his polished shoes then began to shuffle before he gestured to you, “come this way.” 
Hesitantly, you slowly shadowed him out of the living room, down a dim hallway, and into the chamber that bloomed at the bottom of the corridor. In the centre of the dark room, bathed by two glowing pendants, stood a large pool table, and upon the green felt, with colourful orbs haphazardly scatted all about, there laid a man, unconscious and bleeding. 
The brunette’s suit was sodden with crimson, though you couldn’t tell from here how much of it was his own. 
The gangster who was standing by the side and watching over the wounded individual glanced up at your arrival and asked his fellow men, “this the doctor?” 
“No, it’s a fucking stripper,” you twisted your neck at the sarcastic tone as the guy who’d only moments ago pulled a gun on you waltzed past you and entered the room as well, “yes, of course it is, Tony. How’s the boss?”
“Still alive,” he answered in a sigh and cast his glance back down upon the man on the pool table. 
Slowly stepping up, you carefully let your stare wash over the mobster, from the frazzled and blood-soaked attire to the metal-looking hand poking out one of the sleeves. 
“What happened?” you asked carefully. 
“Miss,” someone grumbled as they set a bag of supplies down beside you on the games table, “just fix him.” 
“If you wanna give your friend a better chance, then you give me as much information as possible about what happened to him,” you uttered as you found a pair of gloves and slipped them on. 
Letting out a sigh, the blonde fellow then said, “it was a shootout.”
Snatching up a pair of scissors, you began to snip in the man’s clothes, staring at the sleeve closest to you, “how many times was he shot?”
“I don’t know, he–… a lot of rounds went off,” he grunted, the events of the night weighting his broad shoulders down, “I wasn’t exactly counting.” 
Two bullets. That’s how many you found when his dress shirt was in tatters on the floor. One was lodged in his right arm four finger widths above his elbow, while the other had strayed a bit further north and buried itself in his bulky bicep. You also found other scrapes and scratches along his torso, assumingly from other bullets that hadn’t been as lucky as those two. 
The smallest of relieved sighs flowed from your lungs as you discovered that he wasn’t in a critical enough condition to be in need of a surgeon, at least not from what you could tell with the limited resources currently at your disposal. 
As you carefully set to work, first digging the bullets out before cleaning the wounds with saline, your lips slowly parted as you treaded a curved needle, “…so, not that I don’t love the change to my evening plans,” you didn’t dare shift your glance as you asked, “but don’t you have a regular guy for cleaning up these sorts of messes?” 
“We did… he died tonight, trying to stop that from happening,” the blonde man gestured to the injuries you began to stitch up. 
Blinking up to find his eye, you uttered sincerely, “I’m so sorry for your loss…” feeling yourself, even under such circumstances, uncontrollably slip into those compassionate parts of your profession. 
A slight scoff bubbled out of the gangster, taken aback by your unexpected gentleness, “yeah, me too. Banner was one hell of a guy…”
Once each of the wounds were sutured closed and you’d bandaged him up, you pushed yourself back from the pool table. 
“Alright,” you exhaled and glanced up at the criminals lurking in the shadows of the chamber, “I’m done.”
“Yeah?” one of them stepped up to get a better look, “he’s alright?”
“No, he’s not alright, he was shot multiple times and should be in a fucking hospital,” your eyes briefly fluttered shut as you heard yourself snap, “now, can I please go home?” 
Catching the eye of the blonde one, second in command, you watched as his jaw briefly clenched, the muscles dancing beneath his skin before he breathed, “no, you’re not done.”
“But I did exactly as you asked–”
“Like you said, he should be in a hospital right now, but we can’t have that happen, so instead, you’re gonna stay here till he’s out of the woods.” 
“What? I can’t–”
“You’re a nurse, right?” he croaked to shut you up, “so fucking do your job and nurse him back to health.”
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Three whole days ended up passing by before Mr Barnes slowly began to regain consciousness. 
“Oh, you’re awake!” you snapped back into work mode, springing from your seat and leaning in over the bed which he’d previously been moved into. As the mobster instinctively began to sit up, his eyes barely open yet, you laid a soft palm upon his metal arm and uttered, “sir, please don’t move,” and watched as his clenched jaw almost silenced a groan, “one second, I’ll give you something for the pain,” before you shifted a moment to scavenge through the supplies you’d been given. Once the medicine was found, you exhaled slowly as you injected it, gently pressing down the plunger of the syringe, “there you go…” 
You let yourself suck in a deep breath before your sharp eyes washed over him, briefly assessing him as he woke, though as your gaze flickered up to meet his own, initially with the intent of checking his pupillary response, the manner he stared back at you caught you so of guard that a shiver trickled down your spine.  
“Sir, do you know what your name is?” you asked in a clear tone. 
“Mhm…” he hummed and continued to stare at you as if you were an angel, “Bucky…” 
“Bucky, great, that’s good,” you nodded, “and do you know where you are?”
His gaze didn’t shift away from your visage as he then murmured, “heaven…”
“No, I assure you, you’re not dead,” grasping the stethoscope draped around your neck, you shifted it into place to take a quick listen to his heart, “you almost were, a few times, but you aren’t.” 
As the steady thumping of his pulse filled your ears and seeped into your soul, his deep voice washed over you once again and layered atop the beat, “I’m guessing you had something to do with that?” 
Catching his unwavering eye a moment, you then averted yours and muttered, “I was just doing my job…” before retracting the stethoscope from his chest and casting your glance towards the door, “I should probably go tell the others that you’re awake.” 
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TWO WEEKS LATER
“…and Mr Jensen in 401 is complaining of a headache, so you might wanna check that out as well.” 
“Alright, cool,” the doctor scribbled down the last of your words on the little notepad in his palm before his gaze flickered up to catch yours, “thank you so much, Y/n,” he flashed you a warm smile. 
Mirroring his expression, you hugged the charts in your grasp closer to your chest, “any time, Dr Parker.” 
“Peter, please,” his thumb extended to click the top of his blue pen before sliding it into the breast pocket of his white coat, “hey, I was gonna go grab a cup of coffee right now, do you wanna join?” he tried to keep his tone casual. 
Blinking back at him, your breath couldn’t help but get caught in your throat, “I–, uhm… I’d love to, but I get off in a little bit. Wednesdays are always just morning shifts for me.” 
“Oh, alright,” he nodded understandingly, though the gentle rejection still tainted his features slightly. 
“But another time,” you offered, successfully brightening his smile once more. 
“Yeah?” his elbow curled up to lean against the supportive railing that lined the hospital hallways. 
“Sure. I mean, I drink coffee, you drink coffee,” you awkwardly began to dig yourself into a hole, “the chances of us bumping into each other at the coffee cart are pretty high–” 
But your sentence was then cut short as Peter’s pager suddenly pinged in his pocket.
Fishing the small device out, his eyes flickered down to the small screen before he croaked, “oh, sorry. I gotta run.”
“Of course,” you swiftly waved a hand and watched as his feet began to shuffle into a run. 
“Talk later!” Peter called over his shoulder before he rounded a corner and disappeared into the maze of the hospital. 
Twisting around, your feet carried you the remaining distance towards the nurses’ station overlooking the ICU. As you laid the stack of files in your arms down on the counter, a familiar voice found your ears right before her visage popped into your periphery.
“Please tell me that that was what I think it was.” 
Your gaze stayed glued on the charts a moment longer as you ignored your friend’s prying, “hello to you too, Kate.”
When your head finally raised and you let her catch your eye, her wide ones questioned you before she expectantly poked once more, “well?”
“Well what?” you shrugged, though your feeble attempts at shutting the pending subject down failed as she shot you a glare, efficiently causing you to crumble with a sigh, “yes, he asked me out again–, or kinda. It was just coffee.”
“And you finally said yes?” she smiled keenly. 
Holding back your scoff, you simply uttered, “no,” before spinning on your heel. 
“Again?” she shuffled slightly to catch up to the pace you swiftly slipped into, “why not? He’s kind, he’s a doctor, he’s hot,” she listed off, counting on her fingers, “he’s literally perfect for you.”
“I know he is…” you tilted your head, almost with an air of shame, “he’s exactly the type of guy that I should be running after…” 
Though you liked him as a person and cared for him enough to call him your friend, those feelings you caught yourself forcing just hadn’t bubbled up yet. He was the kind of man that you deserved, that you should fall for, and certainly not the monster that still haunted you, that for some reason wouldn’t stop popping into your mind, especially at inappropriate times, like very late at night… 
“So then why aren’t you?” Kate asked as you entered the employee locker room.
And though thoughts of a gruff gangster caused your heart to swell, you still muttered, “I don’t know…” as an excuse before you popped open your locker and uttered, “hey… what do you know about mobsters here in the city?
“Other than the horror stories I’ve picked up in the ER, not too much,” she leaned against the row of cubbies beside your own as you dug out your bag and began to change out of your scrubs and back into the clothes you’d worn early this morning when the sun was still only a promise waiting to rise, “though I did grow up here, so I probably do know a bit more than you,” she acknowledged your move to the city only a few years prior, “why? Are you suddenly in the mood for a change in careers?”
Though the truth was on the tip of your tongue, you still found yourself obeying the commands the gangsters had sent you home with. Telling the cops was no use because they were all in their pockets, and confiding in a loved one also wasn’t a smart choice as that would only put them in danger. 
“Have you ever heard of someone called Bucky Barnes?” you asked, instinctively lowering your voice to a whisper. 
The ever light-hearted expression plastered upon Kate’s face fell at the recognition of that name, “yeah…”
“Really?” your brows rose, “what do you know about him?” 
“I mean, other than that he’s the supposed leader of the Avengers, not too much.”
“The Avengers?”
“Yeah, one of New York’s most notorious gangs,” she let out a breath, “from what little I know, they get up to a shit ton of stuff straight out of a De Niro movie or something, but their real money maker is cocaine… I mean, that’s why the head of the group is known as the winter soldier.” 
“How do you know about all this stuff?” you squinted back at her in slight amazement. 
“Went to med school with a few coke heads, might have dated one of them,” she blurted before shaking her head and getting back to the subject at hand, “anyways, Y/n, the point is, you don’t wanna mess with those types, trust me.” 
“I know,” you uttered quietly as you shrugged on your coat and pushed your locker closed, “I wasn’t planning on it, I was just curious…” 
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As you dragged your foaming toothbrush over the last of your teeth, a loud knock suddenly rattled your front door, causing you to jump atop the pink bathmat in your tiny bathroom. 
Neck twisted out towards the entryway of your apartment, you briefly leaned over the sink to spit out the toothpaste slowly leaking out of your mouth, before your feet began to carry you towards the exit. 
One of your palms momentarily ran over the edge of your pyjama-clad arm as the night chill soaked through the cotton and made you yearn for the warmth of your bed. 
Though as you pulled on the handle, the haunting figures on the other side of the door caused your blood to freeze with recognition. Standing tall on the other side of the threshold, there stood two of the Avengers’ henchmen. 
“You need to come with us,” the one called Barton ordered coldly. Over the few days the gang had held you captive, you’d picked up on the names of many of the members, including the two that stood before you now. 
“What?” your chest rose and fell rapidly, “I–, please, I swear, I haven’t told a soul.”
Having them knock at your door was one thing, but even just the thought of criminals such as them knowing where you lived sent you into a spiral. 
“Yeah, we know you haven’t,” Scott put a hand on the doorframe, “that’s not why we’re here.” 
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“What happened?” you murmured as you were led into one of the many sitting rooms in the mysterious manor they once again brought you to. In an armchair before you, half-empty glass of bourbon in metal hand and the sleeves rolled up on his blood-tainted shirt, there sat the big bad winter soldier himself, panting as he slowly sipped. 
Though when the sound of your voice filled the room, Bucky’s eyes only snapped up to yours for a moment before he shot a glare at his men.
“What is she doing here?” he grumbled lowly. 
“Boss, you busted your stitches,” Lang gestured tensely to the crimson slowly staining his crisp white shirt, “what else were we–”
Intersecting the conversation, the broad form of Steve stepped into the space between the gangsters and swiftly snuffed the pending argument out, “thank you, Barton, Lang,” he nodded to each of them, “you can go,” and you watched the pair that had brought you back exited the room. Shifting his weight, Bucky’s right hand man turned to you and offered you a polite smile, “Y/n, pleasure to see you again.”
“Yeah,” you exhaled, not masking your disdain of the situation you’d been dragged into yet again, “I wish I could say the same…” before you shifted your eyes to the man in the chair, though still directed your question at Steve, “what do you need me to do?” 
As you shifted closer to the intimidating leader, ever drinking, surely to dull the pain, Rogers murmured as you kneeled down to assess, “I think it’s just the one on his shoulder that’s–”
“Yeah, I see it,” you cut him off, then glanced back over your shoulder at him, “do you still have that medical bag?”
“Yeah, one second,” he swiftly disappeared to fetch it, leaving you all alone with the feared mob boss. 
With the crackling fireplace off to the side as your only source of light, you cautiously raised your hands and asked, “do you mind taking this off?” motioning to the shirt he wore. 
“Yeah, sure,” Bucky sighed and sat down his glass before shrugging the item off. Though you’d stared at his bare chest for hours on end before, soaking in his reveal once again for some reason caused your heartbeat to pick up, though you swiftly averted your gaze in an attempt at staying professional. 
Not long passed before Rogers had returned with the supplies, and you’d commenced redoing his stitches. 
“So,” you murmured though your concentration, weaving his skin back together, “do I even wanna know how this happened?”
Blinking down at you, your face close to your work and therefore his skin, Bucky breathed, “probably not...” and as his stare only intensified over the next few stitches, his low timbre once again washed over you as the corners of his lips tugged into the slightest of smirks, “cute PJs, by the way…”
“Yeah, I didn’t exactly get a chance to change,” you felt your cheeks heat up. 
“Oh, I'm not complaining,” his gaze shifted to take in the way the cool night air had caused your nipples to become visible like pebbles beneath the thin stripy fabric, the comment making you shift tensely on your knees. 
Once the last of the knots were tied off and you’d snipped the end of the thread, you wrapped the wounds back up with clean bandages before placing the roll of gauze back into the medical bag. 
“Alright, uhm,” you shifted back, “you’re good now,” a slight winch shot through you as you watched him briefly test out his arm’s mobility, “just be careful, try not to use it too much.”
Catching your eye, he uttered softly, “thank you,” before shifting his gaze to the gangster by the door, “Rogers?” 
“Yes, boss?”
“See to it that she gets home safe.”
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ONE MONTH LATER
“I’ve heard the risotto here is really good,” Peter noted as you both skimmed the menus resting on the tablecloth before you, the crystal chandeliers illuminating the restaurant cast a soft glow down upon the choices.  
“Yeah?” you briefly glanced up to catch the doctor’s eye, “well, maybe I should get that then,” you shrugged before shifting slightly in your seat, “hey,” you captured his gaze once more, “could you maybe order for me? I just need to–…” you trailed off, letting the thumb you discreetly pointed over your shoulder in the direction of the bathrooms fill out the rest of the sentence. 
“Oh, yeah, of course,” he nodded. 
“Great, thank you,” you smiled as you rose. The long, cobalt-blue, velvet dress you wore briefly swooshed around your legs before the soft click of your heels against the polished floors carried you through the maze of tables. 
It was the third date you’d ventured on with the kind doctor. The third one and yet you still didn’t have any feelings towards him. 
Stubbornly trying as you might, you still couldn’t get the poison out of your system and do the right thing. 
Once you exited the ladies’ room, and big breath of courage in your lungs as you pushed open the door, it all seeped out as you walked through the small hallway that connected the lavatories with the dining space, and you accidentally bumped into two figures that waited in the space. 
Unsure of who was to blame for the collision, you immediately just muttered, “oh, sorry–,” before you glanced up at the pair and your apology crumbled from your lips, your frame immediately freezing up at the recognition. 
“Listen to me. You are going to quietly walk back to your little date, tell him that you’re not feeling well and need to go home,” Stark kept his voice hushed as both he and the other gangster slowly cornered you, the other one grasping your arm to keep you in place, “and then you’re gonna come with us.”
Sucking in a breath, you then tilted your chin slightly, “and if I don’t?” 
“Then we won’t hesitate to make a scene,” Barton shifted the edge of his jacket out of the way to flash you the gun strapped beneath, “so you can either walk with us and safe a life or you can not only have a dying gangster’s blood on your hands, but also everyone in this fucking restaurant.”
With the clench of your jaw, you glared up at them and murmured, “...fine,” before you ripped your arm free and began to walk back into the dining area and the table where Peter still sat. 
Flashing you a smile as you neared, the doctor swiftly said, “so, I ordered this chardonnay that the waiter said was good. You drink wine, right?”
“I–, uhm…” your fingers clutched the back of the chair as you tried to appear as you had before, even though now you felt as if your hammering heart might spring straight out of your ribcage, “Peter, I’m really sorry, but I gotta go,” you briefly scrambled your brain before adding, “the hospital paged me. There was a big accident downtown.”
“Really?” he fished out his own beeper from his pocket and furrowed down at it, “I didn’t get paged, so it probably can’t be that bad.”
“Yeah, but nurses shortage, you know?” 
“Right,” he nodded, disappointment slightly polluting his understanding expression. 
“I'm really sorry,” you uttered as you picked up your small purse from the chair.
“No, it’s fine,” he shook his head gently, “hey, I get it,” he shrugged before waving a hand, “go.”
“Thank you,” you stood there a moment longer, unsure of how you should depart, “uhm… bye,” before you awkwardly shifted closer to his seat and leaned down to press a brief kiss to his cheek as you offered him a half-hearted hug. 
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“Who is it this time?” you sighed as you were led into an elegant space, surely intended for parties judging by the long bar that stretched along the back wall. Glaring at the only man seated on one of the barstools, you asked impatiently, “is it you? Did you hurt yourself again?”
Glancing over his shoulder as you halted your stride halfway down the short steps, a smile appeared on Bucky’s face as he leaned a forearm against the bar top and bellowed, “Y/n! Come, have a drink with me,” he waved a hand for you to take the seat beside him. 
Standing your ground, you squinted back at him in confusion, “no, I can’t, I–, where’s the patient?” 
“The patient?” he echoed as if you were speaking a foreign language. 
“Yes,” you huffed, your annoyance simmering into a full-on boil, “the person who’s on death’s door, the reason why I, a medical professional, is here,” you placed your hands on your hips and asked once again, “is it you?”
“No, I’m phenomenal,” he pursed his lips as he snatched up the stout glass waiting for him on the marble counter, “never been better.”
“Okay, so who is it?”
Tearing his gaze away from you, he then uttered, “no one,” before raising the drink up to his lips. As your mouth parted and your glare nearly burned straight through him, the mobster casually added, “you look stunning, by the way,” before twisting in his seat to face you more, “I didn’t know they changed scrubs out with gowns.” 
“No, I–, I was on a date–,” you muttered faintly through your confusion, slightly shaking your head in an attempt to clear it before you raised a hand, “wait, excuse me, no one’s injured?” 
“No,” Barnes shook his head, “no one’s hurt or dying,” then added as if your reaction was a tad bit too dramatic for his taste, “you can relax, it’s fine.”
But instead, the opposite emotions roiled inside of you as you slowly ascended a single one of the remaining steps, “so you mean to tell me that your men threatened me, my date and a whole restaurant of people, then dragged me all the way out here again, for nothing?” you fumed.
“No, it wasn’t for nothing,” he shrugged, “they brought you back here because I told them to,” he kept his ocean eyes upon you as he once again repeated, “now, come drink with me.” 
“No, I don’t want a fucking drink,” you roared. 
But then, just as swiftly as you had raised your voice, Bucky’s steely hand dipped beneath his suit jacket and pulled out a gun.  
“I asked you nicely,” his stern tone rolled off his tongue slowly as he aimed the weapon upon you, “now sit your ass down and share a drink with me.” 
Carefully, you finally followed his orders and sat down at the bar beside him. 
“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he uttered as he sat the gun down beside his drink. Raising up a hand to the silent shadow behind the bar, a glass was soon slid across the counter, one Bukcy pushed closer towards you, “here,” he said as you stared down at the orange peel floating at the top. As you lifted up the cocktail, the gangster beside you raised his own to click yours, “cheers.”
You briefly toyed with the thought of just taking a sip, though opted instead to down it all, both out of the desperate hope that the alcohol would aid the strange evening, but also in an attempt to fast forward a tad closer to your longed-for departure, ripping the bandage off instead of nursing it all night long. 
Though as you sat the glass back down on the bar, the bottom clanged against the marble much more forcefully than you’d intended as the fingers you clutched it with began to tingle. Blinking heavily a few times, your hand accidentally knocked over the empty drink as a numbing sensation began to bloom within your chest and spread throughout your body. 
Trying to get up from your seat, you mumbled foggily, “what the hell?” though quickly stumbled as your legs felt like jelly beneath your velvet gown.
“Whoa, careful now, angel,” Bucky’s calm gaze trailed you chillingly as you tried to steady yourself. 
“The fuck did you do?” you panted as your wide eyes watched him raise from his seat. 
“It's okay,” he uttered softly, “it’s all gonna be okay,” before your world turned to black and you passed out into his arms. 
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When you finally stirred, you were no longer at the bar, nor any other room you’d been in before. You were in a bedroom, situated on a spacious mattress and alongside countless fluffy maroon pillows. 
As you sat up, a low rustling found your ears and drew your vision down towards the coldness clinging around your ankle. Strung between the bottom corner of the bedframe and your own foot, there shined a chain, one that, try as you instinctively did, you couldn’t snap out of. 
But then, as the door to the room creaked open and caused your body to flinch, a plea swiftly flowed out of you as you watched Rogers step inside, balancing a small tray with a glass and a tall decanter of clear water. 
“Steve!” you crawled to the bottom of the bed, “I–… help me, please,” you begged, hearing tears thicken up your voice as they rolled down your cheeks, “you’re a good man, deep down I know you don’t wanna stand by and let this happen. Can you unlock me? Please? Help me get out of here.”
But just as you waited for Steve’s lips to part, you instead heard, “shh, don’t waste your breath, honey,” as in strolled Bucky, causing you to swiftly scramble as far back on the bed as the chain would allow. 
Sitting down in a chair just out of your reach, the fireplace opposing the bed, directly behind where he sat, clacked and lit up his spine as he settled into the seat and directed his cold gaze upon you.
“Glad to see you awake,” he uttered calmly.
“Fuck you!” you swiftly spat as you hugged your knees tightly to your chest. 
“And with all of your charms still intact,” he tilted his head, a light smirk blooming on his lips as your vulgar language hadn’t fazed him one bit. 
“Let me go,” you demanded. 
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, my angel,” his burly arms folded across his chest, “this is for your own protection,” he briefly gestured to the chain, “we wouldn’t want you to do anything stupid or rash now, would we?” one of his eyebrows twitched, “I can’t let anything happen to you,” he uttered as you continued to stare daggers at him, “you need to be kept as safe as possible so you can keep on helping me the way that you have.”
“What? You want me to be your gang’s personal nurse?” you scoffed, “is this your sick and twisted way of offering me a job, because if so, no thanks!”
“Yeah, no, this isn’t a job offering, I’m not interested in those talents of yours,” he leaned further back in the seat before he began to explain, “you see, for the past few years, I’ve had a serious string of bad luck. Deals have fallen through, rats have been found, the feds have been snipping at our heels and countless of my men have lost their lives,” he listed off, “but, then I met you,” his eyes flickered up to capture your own, “and it all turned around,” he uttered, “I tell you, when you’re here, it’s fate herself is on my side and nothing whatsoever could go wrong. Like having you has made me a fucking god or something, that’s the level of power you’ve bestowed in me,” a faint smile tugged at his lips as those words rolled off his tongue, “so no, you can not leave. You have to stay right here where I can make sure you’re safe and sound. Although, just because you get to be kept safe, that doesn’t mean you’re free of any consequences if you step out of line… it also doesn’t mean that I’ll deny anyone of your beauty if it pleases them… so, I guess it’s more along the lines of you just staying alive under my watch.” 
In the blind rage his words threw you into, your fingers wrapped around the bedside lamp before you chucked it across the room. Though just before it could strike the gangster’s head, he casually ducked out of the way, the lamp instead smashing on the floor behind him as a chuckle began to rumble within his chest. 
“That’s cute,” he laughed lowly, “you’ve got some bite. It’ll get you in trouble, but it’s adorable.” 
“I'm not interested in being your good luck charm, you superstitious fuck!” you yelled as he got up from his seat. 
Huffing out a condescending grin, “give it some time, angel,” he fastened the button on his dark suit jacket before smoothing a palm down over the front, “the human psyche is much more fragile than you’d think and can get used to some surprising conditions,” he ignored the scream that desperately tore from your lungs and instead turned to Steve standing by the door and asked him calming, “Rogers, would you mind cleaning that up?” gesturing to the broken lamp on the floor, and as he received a small nod in return, he murmured, “thank you,” before exiting the room and leaving you to your fate. 
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“Seriously?” Steve let out a laugh when he finally coaxed the truth out as to why you hadn’t been touching any of the food they’d brought you, “and here I thought you were just a picky eater.” 
“Well, you’ve already drugged me once so what’s stopping you from doing it again,” you explained, glaring down at the plate before you as he attempted to stifle his laughter. 
“I swear, cross my heart, your pasta is not poisoned.”
Continuing to squint down at the food, you kissed your teeth, “prove it.”
“Really?” his brows floated up, “alright,” he sighed as he sat down across from you. Dragging your plate closer, he twirled some of the spaghetti onto the fork before slipping it into his mouth, “see?” he chewed, “I’m fine, and so will you be when you get some food in that belly of yours.”
Pushing it back towards you, hesitantly, you picked up the fork and slowly began to eat. It had only been little things you’d consumed the past couple of days being here, things you could be certain weren’t tainted, like the odd apple and such. 
Though as you chewed and finally began to settle your stomach’s nauseating rumbling, tears began to stream down your cheeks. 
No matter how hard you tried to beg, none of the mobsters would help you, as their loyalty was just too hard for you to crack. 
“Hey…” your bloodshot eyes then flickered up to Rogers as he noticed your weeping, “it’ll get easier, I promise,” he attempted in a soft tone. 
“How?” you blinked back at him hopelessly, “I am being locked up in a room by a maniac as if I’m just some trinket for him to own.” 
Throwing a brief glance over his shoulder, he then leaned in a bit closer to cautiously advise you, “…there might be some things you could do to change your situation…”
“What?” a spark suddenly flickered within you, “I’d do anything.”
“…you might consider trying to get closer to Barnes…” his words remained hesitant, “…if he begins to care for you, then he might treat you differently…”
“Like, he’d let me go?” 
“I don’t know,” he exhaled, “but maybe it could get that chain off your ankle,” he gestured to your foot, “baby steps.” 
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ONE MONTH LATER
“Here,” Steve croaked as he suddenly burst through the doors to your room, a big flat box in his arms which he tossed on the bed beside you. Peeking inside, a folded-up bundle of black fabric met your eye, “put it on,” he ordered hastily, “make yourself presentable.”
“Why?” you blinked up at him, your brows knitting gently together. 
“Because the boss requested it,” he answered impatiently. 
“What, he wants to play dress up with me now? Treat me like a doll?”
Over the past month, you had gone from being scared out of your mind, barely sleeping at night, horrified of what they might do to you, till the paralysing fear slowly began to melt away as not much happened at all, in fact so little that you grew bored in your imprisonment, thinking that the big bad gangsters were just all bark and no bite. Perhaps that was a dangerous confidence to develop, growing cocky in your restlessness, but you couldn’t help it. 
Letting out a low sigh, “just put it on,” Rogers’ head tilted before he said, “I’ll be outside, yell when you’re done.”
Popping the lid off all the way, you then slipped into the black gown waiting within. It was long and simple in its beauty as it hugged all of your curves like a second skin. 
Right before you called out to the mobster in the hallway, you leaned in closer to the mirror on the left side of the room. The dark storm clouds visible out the gothic windows that filled up the wall behind you blossomed in the reflection alongside you as you momentarily fussed with your hair to make it match the elegant dress better. 
Once Steve had entered the room once again, the very last thing you expected was what he did next. 
Walking straight up to you, without a word, he bent down and unlocked the chain binding you to the bedpost. At first, a wave of hope washed over you till it was drowned out by the unsettling notion as to where he would take you and just what plans were on the horizon. 
Grabbing you by the arm, he dragged you out of the room and down the dark hallway you’d only seen glimpses of before. You tried to ask him what was going on, though he didn’t offer you any clue in return, only remained silent as he hauled you through the maze-like manor till a wide set of steps found you, leading you down into a garage where a group of the other gangsters already stood beside the black car rolled up by the base of the stairs. 
Standing in the middle with an arm resting against the roof of the vehicle, Bucky’s gaze swiftly landed upon you as you ascended the stone steps. 
“Well,” the mob boss’ eyes roamed your form, “don’t you look pretty.”
Biting your tongue, you greeted him politely, “Mr Barnes.”
“Shall we go?” he cracked open one of the car doors. 
“Where?” you tried, though your question only caused him to breathe out a smile as he ignored it and instead commanded softly. 
“Get in the car, angel,” his metal arm rested atop the door. 
Riding in a different vehicle than you, it was Clint who slipped in behind the wheel of your car and drove you the silent route towards the mysterious destination. 
Though once the car came to a stop, the door to your left cracked open from the outside and there to greet you was an outstretched metal hand to help you exit. 
You didn’t recognise the building that loomed before you, though it was grand and opulent with large steps leading you and all the other arrivals up to what sounded like a party already buzzing on.
“So, you needed a date,” you exhaled as Barnes took your arm and began to lead you up the stairs, a cluster of his men shadowing behind you both. 
“No,” he cocked his head, “I didn’t need it...”
Casting your glance around at the other guests that passed, you asked, “what kinda party is this anyway? Let me guess, human trafficking auction?” you were completely serious, though still managed to make the gangster laugh gently. 
“It’s a wedding,” his chuckle finished billowing out of his lungs, “or a funeral,” he tilted his head, “I'm not quite sure.”
“How could you not be sure?” you shot him a glance as you reached the top of the steps and he dragged you inside the marbled halls, “there’s a pretty significant difference.”
“They all just kinda melt together at this point,” he sighed, “I have at least one of these a week I gotta show my face at, just out of respect.” 
Taking a look around, you uttered, “well, do you at least know who this funeral wedding is for?”
“No fucking clue,” he exhaled before following the signs and leading you into the venue’s ballroom.
Turns out it was a wedding for some couple you hadn’t yet spotted, though you’d already read their names a thousand times with all the stuff they were plastered upon. 
You stayed quiet and lingered by Bucky’s side as he shook some people’s hands and made some small talk before the two of you found yourselves seated at one of the many round tables in the hall. 
Blinking up at the floral centrepiece, your fingers fiddled with the white tablecloth as the hours rolled by. Soon, not only the complementary glass of champagne you’d been handed back when you arrived was sloshing in your belly, but also quite a bit more alcohol as you decided that was a good tool to make the evening more bearable. 
It however also came with the hindrance of boosting your cockiness as you eventually found yourself poking the bear. 
“You know for a big bad gangster,” you stared over at him, leaned back in the seat next to yours, “you’re actually not that scary up close,” you pursed your lips, causing a chuckle to rumble within his chest because of just how untrue that statement was, “smiling at everyone, being polite. Are you sure you really are the big bad winter solider? The king of New York with no heart and only an imagination for torture…”
“Well…” he huffed out a short laugh as he met your gaze, “don’t you have me just all figured out.”
“Some of your guys may have filled me in a bit,” you tilted your head. 
“Have they now?” he continued to look amused. 
“Yeah, well, a bit at least,” you seized your glass and took another sip.
As you placed the flute back down on the table and rested your cheek in a propped-up palm, your stare only intensified into a squint as Bucky’s eyes flickered back around the room.
But as his gaze fluttered back to notice your gawking, he muttered, “what?”
“Why aren’t you mean tonight?” you uttered through the haze fuzzing up your mind. 
Tongue flicking out to wet his lips, his eyes briefly dipped before he uttered, “do you want me to be mean?” a playful smirk twitched at the corner of his lip in a threat to appear. 
“Is it all just a lie?” you asked, the subtext of his previous words flowing directly over your dizzy head. 
“What?”
Squinting back at him, you then breathed, “there’s always a part of me that’s still scared, imagining what you might do to me… but now,” you slowly drew out, “I don’t think you’re actually ever gonna do anything,” you blindly decided, “that’s not really who you are, they’re all just empty threats…” 
“Hm…” he hummed, a slight smile blooming upon his lips as he stared back at you, “okay…” before he leaned in closer to utter, “and just what makes you think that I haven’t already?” your face immediately dropped as his words caused your frame to freeze up, “tell me, Y/n,” his breath fanned across your cheeks, “did you sleep well last night? Or the night before for that matter, or–, well, just during the time you’ve spent here with me?”
As your shock not only showed in your expression but also in your complete lack of speech, he simply grinned back at your stunned features before grabbing you by the hand and breaking the moment. 
“Come on,” he dragged you with him as he then stood up himself, “let’s dance.”
With an argument on the tip of your tongue, the appendage, just as the rest of you, still remained too dumbfounded for it to come to fruition. You didn’t manage to gather your wits once again till he had you on the middle of the floor, wide hand on your waist as you swayed to the music. 
As his hold slowly tightened and he brought you closer to his broad frame, your breath suddenly hitched as you blinked up into his eyes, the air between you growing thick. The hand that grasped your own near swallowed your palm in a dizzying contrast. Goosebumps began to erupt across your skin as you felt your heartbeat thump not only in your chest, but also much further south, a mortifying clue to the dark truth you hoped he didn’t somehow notice. 
Gliding his palm up the length of your spine, it came to rest between your shoulder blades as he then drew you in closer and your gaze fell to the band strumming over his shoulder. 
“Does the thought of me playing with you at night turn you on?” he whispered in your ear and continued to gently sway you to the music, “because if you want me to wake you, all you have to do is ask. Though my attempts so far at rubbing your luck off on me have been rather eventful, I’m still sure it would be better if you gave me a bit of a hand…” 
Tilting your head back to blink up at him, you thought you were gonna spit him in the face for making such an accusation, till your stare acted of its own accord and fluttered down to fixate on his lips. 
It almost felt as if they were calling for you, begging you closer like a stubborn magnet. But before you could close the short distance that kept you two apart, Barton appeared in your periphery and tapped his boss on the shoulder. 
As he leaned in to whisper in his ear, you couldn’t pick up on the words over the music, though watched as Bucky’s face swiftly grew hard. 
“What’s going on?” you asked as the secretive message came to an end and the mobster’s wide hands faded from your frame. 
Ignoring your question, Bucky instead cast his glance over your head at one of the men behind you and ordered sternly, “Stark? Get her home, now.”
“What’s happening?” you tried again, though without success as Tony dragged you away and the remaining gathered to converse in hushed tones.
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Perhaps it was because of the chaos of whatever was happening, perhaps just a simple mistake, but when you returned back to the manor, the shackle wasn’t reunited with your ankle. 
Not willing to let that gift slip through your fingers, you soon grasped that opportunity tight and made an attempt at your escape. 
Sneaking down the many hallways, you successfully hid from a handful of gruff-looking men before you realised you couldn’t remember the path to the garage or any other way out of the labyrinth of a building that kept you swallowed in the dark. 
However, your mission turned into a swiftly sinking ship as soon as you rounded the wrong corner and crossed the threshold of the last room you should have entered. 
In the centre of the space stood two chairs, both with individuals strapped to them, though only one of them was still alive. Before the seated pair and with his back turned to your frozen-up form, there stood Bucky. Returned from the party and with both his jacket and tie torn off, his sleeves were rolled up though still tainted in small crimson flecks of the deed he’d just done. 
“Come on, Vladimir…” Barnes uttered as he kneeled down in front of the battered man still breathing, neither he nor the other members in the room haven noticed you in the doorway, “just give me what I want and we can wrap this up.”
Wheezing painfully through his broken nose, the man met Bucky’s steely gaze before fulfilling his request, “…I’m sorry…”
“Hm?” he leaned in pettily, “what was that?”
“I’m sorry,” the tied-up man repeated with a laboured huff.
“Okay, getting there,” he nodded, “what are you sorry for?”
“I’m sorry for killing Bruce…” the name rolled off Vladimir’s tongue like a crackle to a bonfire. 
“And?” Bucky fished. 
“For hurting you…” 
“See? That wasn’t so bad now,” Barnes straightened back up, “an apology, a life for the one you took from me, and now there’s just one last thing left to do, and then we’re even,” he then took one step back and conjured his gun. Aiming it at the Russian, barely a second passed before a shot deafened everyone’s ears and a bullet blasted through the tied-up man’s arm, mirroring the injuries Bucky himself had sustained. The loud blast and the bloodcurdling scream that tore from Vladimir, however, caught you so off guard that a shriek slipped from you as you flinched, revealing your presence as everybody’s eyes suddenly shifted to train on you. Glancing over his shoulder, Bucky grunted, “what are you doing out? What is she doing out?” he shot his glare in the direction of Steve off to the side, “Rogers? Get her back into bed.”
“Yes, boss,” his right-hand man swiftly nodded before catching up to you in two long steps and seizing your arm. 
And as you were dragged back to your doom, your eyes caught the tail end as Barnes let out a sigh and turned back around to face his victim, “now, where were we? Right! I believe the other one was right around here,” another gunshot echoed in the manor as he shot Vladimir’s arm once more, “and now, we can’t forget about the ones that only skimmed me, so get up and don’t fucking flinch, it’s on you if I hit your lung.”
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The chain reunited with your ankle jingled as you twisted on the bed to cast your gaze out the window. Heavy rain hammered against the tall panes as the restless city twinkled through the darkness of the night. In the corner of the room, Steve watched up like a hawk as you continuously failed to find rest. 
But then, just as you thought you felt your heartbeat return to a normal rhythm, the double doors burst open and in paced Bucky. 
“Is she awake?” he huffed, though didn’t wait for an answer before he heatedly went on, “okay, great.”
As his rushed steps halted by the foot of your bed, the look in his eye caused your body to shudder.  
“Rogers?” he kept his cold stare glued on you as he uttered, “go wait outside.”
Though you silently pleaded with your eyes for the mobster to stay, it was no use as Steve swiftly shut the doors behind him. 
As the man before you then shifted, your wide eyes finally noticed the bundle of rope in his grasp as he began to unravel it. Scrambling back, you didn’t manage to crawl far away before Bucky caught the chain and yanked it hard enough to force your frame down towards him. Though your struggling finally fizzled out when the gangster pulled out his gun, the very gun he’d just ended a life with, and aimed it at your head to get you to comply. 
“You know,” he uttered gruffly like a pent-up bull, “I’ve been nice, I’ve been real well behaved, kept my manners intact, been a goddamn gentleman,” the heavy weapon in his hand tilted slightly to emphasise his words, “but evidently, that’s not what you need to learn your fucking place,” he fumed before letting out a low exhale, “that’s alright…”
“Bucky, please,” tears blurred your vision as you held up your palms, “I-I understand, I’m sorry, you don’t have to do this.” 
“Oh, but I do…” he sighed almost softly as he then kneeled down closer and let the tip of the cool barrel stroke your cheek, “…if you don’t break a horse, then she’ll never be tamed…” his eyes trailed after the line he drew before it flickered up to find your own, “now give me your hands,” he ordered and hesitantly, you shakily obeyed. 
Since you couldn’t stay in your place, he simply had to tie you down better. 
Unfurling the rope in his grasp, the mobster then fastened the cord around not only both of your wrists, but also your free ankle. After each of the tight knots were tied off, he yanked each appendage to the nearest corner of the bedframe, spreading your limbs till you looked like a starfish on the mattress. 
Taking a step back to admire his handiwork, his fingers then dipped down into his pocket before a slight furrow found his brow as his touch didn’t locate the item he fished for. Placing the heavy gun in his palm down on the fireplace mantel, he then closed the distance towards the exit and cracked open the door just a smidge. 
“Rogers?” he extended a hand through the sliver, “give me your knife,” to which a switchblade was swiftly placed in his palm, replacing his own which was still lodged deeply inside the corpse of the Russian in the other room. 
Slamming the door behind him, he then crossed the room and silently began to cut your clothes off. The black gown you still wore came off with only a few slices, though your underwear, that he took his time with, slowly grazing the blade over your goosebump-ridden flesh before nicking the cotton clinging tightly to your frame. 
Once you were bare before him, his feet shuffled back slightly as he let his stare soak up every millimetre of you. 
A hand floated up to tug on his tie and loosen it slightly from around the collar still dappled with the blood of his enemy. Folding closed the knife with a faint flourish, he then sank down into the armchair directly behind him. The tattered panties he’d sliced from you were still clutched tightly in his hand as his eyes stayed glued upon your frame. Bringing the fabric up to his nose, his blue eyes then fluttered closed for a second as he breathed deeply, letting the scent of you flood his senses. 
But as he stuffed the cotton down into his pocket and let his palm drift to somewhere else, your eyes grew even wider as you gasped, “what are you–”
“Just shut up, please,” he groaned, sounding like he was at his very last straw as he brashly began to rub himself through his pants, “just for one fucking second, don’t be a brat.”
Your jaw couldn’t help but hit the floor as he shamelessly pulled out his cock, letting the intimidating hardness spring free of its confines before he spit in his palm and enclosed his fist around the fat girth. You wanted to look away, you truly did, but you just couldn’t, a flaw he obviously noticed. 
“You’re unbelievable…” he chuckled as his fist silkily stroked up and down his cock, the mixture of his own spit and the precum beading at the tip caused a sloppy melody to fill the room at each and every twist, “I mean, me being into you, that’s one thing, that makes sense, you’re the closest thing to magic that I’ve ever experienced, so of course that’s enough to get me going, but you… you’re the very textbook definition of a good girl and here you are pining after–, how was it again you put it? A superstitious fuck?” 
Stunned at his accusation, you tried to tear your stare away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“Really? Well, I didn’t take you for a fool, but hey,” he tilted his head, “some folks are just that disconnected to their own feelings.”
Blinking back at him, you scoffed faintly, “you’re crazy, I’m not–…” but you couldn’t even say it out loud as you, deep down, knew that it was a lie. 
“Oh yeah?” he cocked a brow, finding your flustered state amusing, “then why did you almost kiss me tonight?”
“I–…I was drunk.” 
Letting out a dark chuckle, “alright, sure,” he then rose from his seat and crawled up on the bed with you before he buried his face between your parted thighs, “if you despise me so much, then why are you so fucking wet?” his hot breath fanned across your core. 
“I’m not–,” you tried, though your attempt then fell short as he proved you wrong, reaching out his touch to tickle at your lightly and let the wet sounds of your arousal slosh into your soul. 
“Hm?” the broad pad of his thumb gently brushed over your glistening petals, making them part for him, “if this isn’t because deep down you want me, then why? I’d love to hear you try and explain your way out of this one…”
“I-I–…” your eyes fluttered as you tried to fight the feeling, “I don’t…” 
Laughing lightly through the scoff that then bubbled out of him, he averted his gaze and said, “okay, fine. You wanna play that game?” his eyes flickered back up to find yours, “if you need a bit of help in order to admit the truth, then that’s what you’ll get,” he uttered before suddenly stuffing two of his fingers inside of you. 
Craning his neck, he tilted down to catch a taste. You tried to hold back your moans as his digits caressed you, but the softness of his velvety tongue came as such a shock that a little squeak managed to slip out past your lips. 
“I mean, if it’s any consolation,” his stubbly chin glimmered with your essence as he retracted slightly to smirk, “I personally think it’s kinda cute that you have a crush on me like a little schoolgirl…” 
He then sent his palm down upon your pussy in a wet smack, before repeating the action a couple of times to echo the jolt it shot through your body. 
“Fuck…” he groaned in a low rumble, “you are so much more pretty awake…” he revealed casually, “sure, you make some cute noises in your sleep, but not like this,” you instinctually tried to stifle the uncontrollable whimpers that flowed from your lungs, “you should really be thanking me for all of the time and effort I’ve put into stretching this little hole of yours out,” his fingers continued to pump in and out of you, “if I hadn’t, well then you might just split in two when I finally get my cock in there.” 
And as he leaned down to lap you up once more, you curled your toes as you felt him push you closer to the edge. 
“Mr Barnes…” you attempted with an air of respect through your pants, “please don’t–…”
“Why? Because it makes you want to kiss me again?” he teasingly taunted you before continuing his persistent licks, bullying your clit into submission. 
And as he kept going, even as you gasped, “stop–, a-ah!” he still kept his lips locked around your puffy pearl long after a gush of squirt wept around his fingers, keeping his efforts up till your hips were bucking back in sensitivity. 
But when his kiss finally ceased, he let some of your juices, that had flooded into his mouth, trickle out past his lips and back down onto your pussy, “fuck…” his low groan nearly caused the whole room to rumble, “nasty little cunt…” before he slapped your throbbing core once more, watching as the last little trickle weakly leaked out and soaked the sheets below. 
Lifting himself up to hover above your constricted form, you then squirmed as you felt him nudge the bulbous tip of him against you. 
“Does the idea of liking, or even loving, someone like me scare you that much?” he uttered as he gathered up your slick and smeared it with his cock, “does it make you feel all wrong and icky inside that I of all people make you feel the way that you do?” 
All of the air in your lungs was then suddenly knocked clean out as he, with one long stroke, slipped all the way inside, before pulling right back out to tap the weight of him against your poor clit with the hold he had at his base. 
“You won’t spontaneously combust if you admit it out loud, you know…”
He repeated the motion, plugging you up completely before he denied your cunt the chance of getting used to the stretch. 
“I just wanna hear you say it…”
And on the next time he filled you up to the brim, this time his hips didn’t retract.
Reeling as you fought to comprehend the manner his girth split you open, you gasped weakly, “I can’t…”
“Hmm…” his eyes above you narrowed slightly before he pointed out, “that’s not a no,” and he began to move, “finally getting somewhere…”
The gangster was in no way gentle as he started to fuck your pussy, the selfish force of it caused your body to jostle every time his heavy balls tapped against your slick skin, thereby conducting a lewd beat each time he slammed into you. 
Lowing himself to get even closer to you, his nose ghosted against your own from the proximity. The gesture made you assume that he was about to press his lips to yours, though they never touched, even as your own instincts overwhelmed you and made you dizzily tilt up to try and close the gap, “nah-ah-ah,” he swiftly clicked his tongue and moved out of your reach, “admit the truth and then I’ll kiss you all you want.”
With his length still embedded deep within you, he sat back up. His fingers dented your hips as he grabbed onto them and then began to sink them harshly down against his own, lifting your frame entirely off of the mattress as he used you like a toy. 
“Oh god…” you whimpered as your eyes fluttered down to notice the faint bulge that appeared in your lower abdomen, the thrusting imprint of his size visibly showing just how deep he buried himself inside of you. 
Once he’d plopped your hips back down onto the bed, his hands then instead floated up to play with your tits, the rhythm he offered you causing them to jiggle in his palms. Though once he’d fiercely pinched your nipples and parted ways in a brief tap, his fingers then drifted further down south till his right hand found your puffy clit. 
Casting his glance down as he rubbed your pearl, a smirk appeared on his lip as he spotted the way your cream coated his girth. Sweeping down to smear his touch against it, what he did next caught you so off guard that you jostled wildly in your binds in an attempt to hit him for his audacity.
“Ahh!” you yelped as he stuffed two of his fingers in your pussy alongside his already overwhelming girth, “Buck, no, it’s too much!” 
But your squeak only caused him to chuckle as he stared down at the way your little hole struggled to take what he gave it, clinging around him so tightly that loud groans began to billow from him as he soon painted your insides white and pumped you full of his cum. 
With heavy breaths, he withdrew his dick, though let his digits stay inside your warmth. 
“Maybe in time you could become more than just my good luck charm…” he murmured as he flopped down to curl closer to your core, “would you like that?” he nipped at one of your thighs as his load slowly began to leak around his thick fingers, “does the idea of me falling down to my knees before you and declaring my undying love entice you, angel?” 
“You’ll just have to do better,” he continued as his digits began to twist within you, “let me mould you and make you perfect for me,” another one of his fingers was stuffed inside of you, causing your eyes to flutter, “just let go,” he breathed, “shut off your brain and let it become a leaky mess just like your pussy already is for me,” he worked another digit into your creamy cunt before grazing the last one against your stretched out opening, “you don’t need to think, you just need to do exactly as I tell you to and everything will be okay,” his tone was soft as his thumb curled close to the others and sank into your pussy with a pop, “just break for me, it’s okay,” your body was shaking beneath him as his entire fist slowly twisted within you, “you’ll be so much more perfect ruined…”
Tears were streaming down your face as you unravelled once more, trembling violently as your pussy clamped down around his wide hand so tightly that it was forced all the way out, a drizzle of your nectar once again spraying out at the intensity. 
“Alright!” you let out a sob, “alright… I–… I don’t understand it… but, I–…” you caught his eye and confessed, “ever since the moment I met you, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you… even when I fall asleep, it’s like you’re haunting me in my dreams…” a faint shake found your head as you blinked up at him through your blurry vision, “I don’t wanna feel this way. But–… I do.”
It seemed as though time stood still as Bucky stared down at you, an unreadable expression tinting his features before he finally shifted, slowly leaning down over you and inching closer before he finally pressed his lips to your own.
A faint whimper was muffled against his kiss as you felt the world crumble around you. 
“That wasn’t so hard, was it now…” he breathed as he ended the soft peck, “say it again,” his hand slid over your jaw, “practice makes perfect.”
Blinking up into his eyes, you uttered from the bottom of your heart, “I am yours,” a single tear rolled down your cheek as you still trembled beneath him. 
“Damn right you are…” his lips tilted into a smile. 
Fishing out the borrowed switchblade that still rested within the gangster’s pocket, he then sliced through the ropes and constricted you. 
Tangling your arms around his neck as you sat up, you captured his lips once again and felt his touch slide down under your ass before he scooped you into his lap. Your sore pussy wept against his cock, once again throbbing and hard as a rock against your core. As your tongue danced against his own, you couldn’t help but scramble even closer, pressing your body impossibly close to his own as you grinded down against him. 
“You are mine,” he groaned as he manhandled your frame in his hold and sank you back down onto his fat dick, “you are my most prized possession,” your bodies met in sticky claps as the aftermath of the rough round moments before still oozed all over this one where passion crackled behind both of your own desperate efforts, “I will never let you go,” he blinked up into your eyes as you rode him, both of you clinging to each other as the end crept ever nearer, “always need you–,” his sentence was briefly broken up by a moan as you rolled your hips, your pussy gripping around him and squeezing him tightly, “need you by my side…” 
Once your synced-up orgasms had both shuddered your senses and you were sharing each other’s breath, your eyes remained locked as his throbbing cock stayed buried deep within you.
“So, what now?” your chest rose and fell as you whispered into the night, the pitter-patter of rain splashing against your windows once again catching your attention as it swept over and mingled with your laboured pants of breath.  
Not shifting his gaze, his eyes briefly scanned your own in search of any ounce of deception, before his fingers dipped down into his pocket and conjured a tiny key, “now,” and he stretched down to undo the chain at your ankle. The click of the lock felt like a gasp of real air was finally filling your depraved lungs, “I take you to my room,” and he manoeuvred you around to slink one arm in behind your knees while the other stayed fast at your spine. As he rose from the bed, he plucked you up with him as well, carrying you in his hold as he exited the bedroom. 
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zhelin-thames · 8 days ago
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Now pay interest - 10% per year
Masterpost
As the Bat-family processed what had just happened, Jason was already plotting.
“So,” Jason began, a wicked grin spreading across his face, “does this mean we have a ghost King in the family now? Because I’ve got so many questions.”
“Focus, Todd,” Damian snapped, though his own curiosity was evident in his furrowed brow. “That... entity was clearly powerful. Father, why did you not inform us of this connection sooner?”
Bruce didn’t even glance up from his computer. “It was irrelevant.”
“Irrelevant?” Dick exclaimed, gesturing wildly. “A glowing ghost guy just popped out of a portal in our cave to collect a debt, and you think it’s irrelevant?”
Tim, typing furiously, pulled up the mission logs from Bruce’s early years. “Okay, I think I found the mission in Prague where this all went down. It says here... wait. Danny wasn’t just some guy you ran into. You trained with him in the League of Assassins?”
Steph leaned over Tim’s shoulder to read. “Wait, what?! He’s an assassin ghost King?”
Jason let out a low whistle. “This just gets better and better.”
Duke raised his hand, hesitant. “Uh, just a thought… if he’s the Ghost King, doesn’t that mean he has control over, like, all ghosts? Including... uh, Lazarus Pits?”
Everyone froze. Slowly, they all turned to Bruce, whose expression darkened slightly.
“Yes,” Bruce admitted reluctantly.
“Holy crap,” Jason said, leaning back with a stunned look. “He’s the reason the Pits freaked me out after I came back, isn’t he? I thought it was just the resurrection thing, but you knew he was tied to them!”
Bruce’s silence was answer enough.
“I want to meet him,” Cass signed firmly.
“Seconded,” Duke added. “He seems cool.”
“No,” Bruce said, finally standing and cutting through the rising chatter. His tone was firm, brooking no argument. “Danny is not someone you want to get involved with.”
But before Bruce could elaborate, the room was bathed in green light again.
Danny reappeared, now sitting cross-legged in mid-air, holding what looked like a spectral clipboard. “Forgot one thing,” he announced casually.
Bruce’s glare could have burned through steel. “What now?”
Danny smirked. “I want interest. Fifteen years is a long time to wait for sixteen bucks. So let’s say... ten percent per year?”
Jason cackled as the rest of the family broke out into laughter. Even Damian couldn’t entirely suppress a smirk.
Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose again. “I’m not paying you interest.”
Danny shrugged, grinning. “Guess I’ll have to stick around until you do. Hope you’ve got extra space, because I’m moving in.”
The Batcave erupted into chaos. Jason and Steph cheered, Tim frantically calculated how much Bruce technically owed, and Bruce’s patience reached its breaking point.
“Fine,” Bruce growled. “But you’re staying in the guest room.”
Danny floated down, looking entirely too smug. “Deal. Now, who’s up for pizza? I’m starving.”
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mssalo · 24 days ago
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ma'am
Joel Miller’s spent a lifetime in control, but under your confident lead, he’s discovered just how good it feels to let go. As your right-hand man in Jackson, he’s desperate to please, finding himself worshiping you in ways he’s never dared before—and loving every filthy second of it.
Warnings: MDNI, 18+, sub!Joel, dom!f!reader, oral (male and female receiving), nipple play (SUCKING JOEL’S NIPPLES like he deserves), premature ejaculation, dirty talk, praise kink, begging, desperation kink, Joel whimpering, explicit sexual content, mutual devotion, protective partnership, reader is emotionally supportive but firm, Joel finds comfort in being cared for (he’s babygirl) and Joel being so far gone it’s frankly adorable.
11k. enjoy.
part two: after hours
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
Joel Miller had always been the guy people turned to when things needed fixing—whether it was a busted fence, a tough decision, or clearing out a horde of infected, he was the dependable one. The solid one. The man who got things done without flinching.
But with you, it was different.
You weren’t like anyone else in Jackson. You’d arrived last winter, stepping into the town’s bustling life like you’d always belonged, and somehow, you’d made it your own. 
People respected you—trusted you—not because you demanded it, but because you commanded it. You were sharp, resourceful, and unshakably confident. 
Joel couldn’t decide if you reminded him of a soldier or a queen, but either way, it made his chest tighten every time you spoke.
It started innocently enough.
“Joel, we need these supplies moved to the north gate before sundown,” you said one day, standing by the depot, that calm, no-nonsense tone that made Joel’s stomach flip.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied without thinking, the words slipping out as easily as breathing.
You’d looked up, a flicker of amusement in your eyes. “Didn’t peg you for the ‘yes ma’am’ type,” you teased lightly, your lips curving into that small, knowing smile.
Joel had flushed, shifting on his feet like a boy caught stealing. “Guess it’s just… habit.”
You didn’t push, just nodded and turned back, but Joel couldn’t get the moment out of his head.
Something about the way you spoke to him—firm but never condescending, confident but never overbearing—lit something inside him he hadn’t felt in years. 
Respect, maybe. Or something deeper, darker, and far more dangerous.
The more months you worked together, the worse it got for him.
“Joel, grab the shotgun and cover me,” you ordered one day, crouched behind a rusted-out truck as infected skittered through the woods ahead. Your voice was steady, even in the heat of the moment, and Joel’s chest swelled as he followed your lead without question.
Another time, while patrolling the perimeter, you had said, “Check the west side at dusk. Let me know if anything’s out of place.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Joel had answered automatically, his voice softer, almost reverent.
You didn’t always notice how easily he fell into step with you, how much he craved the way you trusted him to follow through. 
But Joel noticed. Every damn time. 
And it wasn’t just respect—though that was there too—it was something raw and magnetic. Something that made his chest tighten and his cock stir in ways that left him fumbling for composure.
It wasn’t just the way you spoke. It was the way you carried yourself. The way you moved through the world with confidence that was effortless, never forced. 
You weren’t trying to prove anything to anyone—you just were. You called the shots when they needed calling, and people listened, not because they had to, but because they wanted to.
Joel wanted to. And more than that, he liked it.
One night, it all came to a head.
Jackson was quiet, the streets bathed in the soft glow of lanterns strung between buildings. Joel was walking back from the stables when he spotted you on the porch of the town hall, a map spread across the railing in front of you. 
The way the light hit your face, catching on your jawline and softening your features, made his chest ache.
“Joel,” you called, your voice slicing through the stillness like a blade.
He froze for half a second before making his way over, his boots crunching softly on the gravel. 
His pulse quickened as he got closer, his eyes darting over you—your loose hair falling over one shoulder, the curve of your wrist as you held the edge of the map, the faint furrow in your brow that he desperately wanted to smooth away.
“Everything alright?” he asked, his voice rougher than he intended.
You glanced up, your eyes meeting his. “Come take a look at this,” you said, motioning him closer.
Joel stepped up beside you, his shoulder brushing yours as he looked at the map.
The faint scent of soap and leather lingered on you, and Joel had to force himself to focus on what you were pointing at—a marked spot near the riverbank.
“Been seeing signs of movement out here the past couple nights,” you explained. “Could be nothing, but I want to clear it tomorrow. Need someone to back me up. You in?”
“Always,” Joel said immediately, his voice quieter than he intended but no less firm. His fingers brushed yours as he took the map, and he swore he felt a spark.
You smiled then—just a small curve of your lips—but it sent heat rushing through Joel’s chest. “Good. Be ready at dawn.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Joel murmured before he could stop himself.
Your brows lifted slightly, amusement flickering in your expression. “You don’t have to keep calling me that, you know.”
Joel rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks warming. “Can’t help it,” he muttered, his gaze sliding to the ground. “Suits you.”
Your smile widened just enough to make his heart stumble. “If you say so.”
With that, you folded the map, tucked it under your arm, and disappeared into the town hall, leaving Joel standing there like a damn fool, his chest tight and his jeans uncomfortably snug. 
He swore under his breath, adjusting his stance in a futile attempt to ease the ache building low in his belly.
It wasn’t fair. 
The way you got under his skin without even trying. The way you made him feel… lighter and heavier all at once. 
Joel had spent his whole life being the one people leaned on, the one who carried the weight, and for once, he didn’t mind letting someone else take the reins. 
Hell, he wanted to. 
He wanted to follow you, to listen to you, to give you every ounce of control you asked for.
Joel stayed rooted to the spot, staring at the closed door of the town hall long after you’d gone inside. 
His pulse pounded in his ears, the ache in his jeans growing unbearable as his mind replayed the last few moments—the way your voice curled around his name, the subtle command in your tone when you told him to be ready, the approving smile that lingered on your lips when he’d answered.
It was ridiculous, he thought bitterly, rubbing the back of his neck. He was a grown man, for Christ’s sake, and yet here he was, rock-hard in the middle of Jackson like some lovesick idiot. 
His cock throbbed against the tight denim of his jeans, a constant, humiliating reminder of how badly he wanted you—how badly he needed you.
Joel swallowed hard, adjusting himself as subtly as he could manage, though the motion sent a shiver of frustration through him. 
This was nothing new. 
Every time he was around you, it was like his body betrayed him, reacting to the sound of your voice, the sway of your hips, the smallest flick of your wrist as you gestured for him to follow.
He couldn’t stop thinking about it—about you.
The way you carried yourself, confident and composed, made his chest tighten in ways that were equal parts admiration and raw, aching need.
You were everything Joel wasn’t. Steady. Collected. In control. And fuck if he didn’t crave that about you.
More than anything, he craved the way you made him feel. Like he could just… let go.
The thought sent a fresh jolt of arousal straight to his cock, and Joel bit back a groan, his hand clenching at his side. 
He’d spent years—decades—being the man people turned to, the one who handled the tough shit without complaint.
But with you? He didn’t want to be the guy in charge. 
He wanted to be the one following orders, wanted to be the one looking up at you, waiting for your approval. 
He wanted to make you proud. 
To hear you say his name the way you had earlier, with that faint hint of amusement, like you saw something in him that no one else ever had.
Goddamn it, he was pathetic.
Joel shook his head, muttering a low curse under his breath as he turned away from the town hall. 
The walk back to his house felt like a blur, his thoughts too tangled to focus on anything but you. 
Every step sent a dull throb through his cock, and by the time he reached his front door, his hands were trembling, his jaw tight with restraint.
Inside, Joel leaned heavily against the door, the cool wood pressing into his back as he exhaled shakily. His chest rose and fell in uneven waves, the pounding of his heart loud in the stillness of the house. 
The faint creak of the floorboards beneath his boots reminded him he wasn’t dreaming, though he almost wished he were—wished the memory of you wasn’t so vivid it set his whole body on fire.
His jacket slid from his shoulders and hung limply on the hook by the door, but the ritual did little to calm him. 
His hand lingered against the fabric, fingers gripping tightly for a moment as though holding on to it might anchor him. But there was no escape—not from the way you lingered in his thoughts, the way your voice echoed in his ears like a melody he couldn’t shake.
C’mere, Joel. I need you to check this.
C’mere, Joel….
The words played on repeat, the confidence in your tone, the subtle curve of authority behind every syllable. 
The way you’d glanced at him tonight, your eyes catching his for just a second longer than necessary—it was enough to drive him insane. 
Joel groaned softly, the sound rough and guttural as he pressed the heel of his palm against the stiff, aching bulge in his jeans.
“Jesus,” he muttered, shaking his head as if that might clear it. But it didn’t. It never did. He’d thought about you like this too many times to count. 
Late at night, alone in the dark, his fist slick and tight around his cock, imagining you leaning over him, your voice a breathy, commanding whisper.
“Good boy, Joel. Just like that.”
It was the praise that undid him every time, the approval he ached for, that soft edge of control in your voice that made his chest tighten and his hips buck into his hand. 
Joel’s teeth dug into his bottom lip as he pushed off the door, his steps hurried and uneven as he made his way toward the bedroom. 
His body was hot, his skin flushed as he kicked the door shut behind him and leaned against it, his breath coming fast and shallow.
He didn’t bother with the lights. There was no point when the image of you burned so brightly in his mind.
His hands fumbled with his belt, the leather sliding free with a sharp hiss before he shoved his jeans down his thighs, kicking them aside. 
His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.
Joel wrapped his calloused fingers around himself, his rough palm dragging slowly along the length as his head tipped back against the door. 
A soft, broken groan escaped his lips, and he tightened his grip, savoring the sharp sensation.
“Yes,” Joel whispered hoarsely, his hips jerking into his hand as the thought took hold.
The image was so vivid it made his knees weak.
“On your knees, Joel. Let me see how much you want it.”
He imagined you standing over him, your hands on your hips, your lips curved into that wicked, knowing smile.
You’d look down at him like you owned him, and Joel would crumble beneath that gaze, his body desperate to obey.
His hand moved faster, his strokes rougher as his chest heaved. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice thick and broken. “I’d do it. Anything you want, darlin’. Just… just fuckin’ tell me.”
And then, there was the fantasy he couldn’t shake. You’d guide him down—your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling just hard enough to make him hiss as you tilted his face up toward yours.
“You want to make me feel good, baby? Show me.” You’d press his face between your thighs, your warmth surrounding him, and Joel would lose himself.
He could almost feel it—the softness of your skin, the slick heat of your cunt against his lips. His tongue would trace slow, deliberate circles around your clit, savoring the way your body trembled beneath his mouth. 
You’d moan his name, your voice breathy and broken, and it would be the only thing he cared about.
Joel groaned loudly, his hips jerking off the door as his hand tightened, the slick sound filling the room. “Please,” he rasped, his voice shaking. “Please, darlin’. Let me be good for you. Let me—”
He imagined you grinding against his face, your thighs clenching around his head as you guided him, demanding more. “That’s it, Joel. Just like that. Don’t stop until I come, baby.”
The thought of your approval, of hearing you call him a good boy as he worked tirelessly to please you, made his cock throb painfully in his hand. “I’d do it,” he muttered hoarsely. “I’d fuckin’ worship you, darlin’. Just say the word.”
The tension snapped, his body locking up as his release hit. Hot, thick spurts spilled over his hand, his voice breaking into a low, guttural groan as his hips jerked helplessly. 
Your name fell from his lips, raw and reverent, as the pleasure coursed through him, leaving him trembling and spent.
For a long moment, Joel stood there, his chest heaving, his hand still wrapped loosely around his softening cock. 
The air was thick with the scent of his arousal, the evidence of his need dripping onto the floor, and yet all he could think about was you. Your voice, your smile, the way you made him feel like he could let go of everything and just… be.
Joel swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he finally pushed off the door and reached for a towel. 
He cleaned himself up quickly, his thoughts still tangled, his body still thrumming with the remnants of his release. But even as the tension faded, the ache lingered—the desperate, aching need for you.
For your voice. For your touch. For your approval.
And Joel knew he’d never stop wanting it. Never stop wanting you.
Because this wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Not until he had you.
Not until he could hear you say his name the way he’d always dreamed, soft and breathless, your hands gripping his shoulders as you told him exactly what to do.
· · ───
The sun was barely cresting the horizon as you and Joel set out toward the riverbank, the chilly morning air biting at your cheeks. Joel kept a steady pace beside you, his rifle slung across his shoulder, his eyes scanning the dense treeline with practiced precision.
Despite the tension that always came with patrols, there was a comfort in your presence—a grounding force that he couldn’t quite put into words.
The faint scent of soap and leather lingered on you, familiar and steady, and Joel found himself stealing glances at you more than he should.
You walked with such assuredness, each step purposeful, and the soft sway of your hips had him swallowing harder than necessary.
He tried to focus, but your commanding presence made it impossible not to feel both overwhelmed and grounded.
“See this?” you murmured, crouching near a patch of disturbed dirt. Your voice was low, clipped, yet patient as you gestured for him to come closer. “Looks like someone’s been through here recently. More than one.”
Joel crouched beside you, his shoulder brushing yours as he examined the ground.
The way your hair caught the morning light, the subtle curve of your neck—it was too much. His chest tightened as he forced his gaze to the dirt and away from the way your lips parted slightly in concentration.
“Yeah,” he muttered, his voice rougher than intended. “Could be raiders.”
“Could be,” you agreed, straightening and adjusting the strap of your pack. “Let’s keep moving. Stay sharp.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Joel said before he could stop himself, the words slipping out instinctively.
You glanced at him, one brow arching, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at your lips.
You turned without a word, leading the way through the uneven terrain. Joel followed close behind, his pulse quickening with every step. 
You always had this effect on him, like you were a magnet and he couldn’t help but be pulled in.
The ambush came fast. 
Raiders poured from the treeline, their weapons raised, shouts breaking the morning quiet. 
Joel moved on instinct, diving behind a fallen log and returning fire, but it was you who commanded the chaos with sharp, decisive orders.
“Joel! Left flank! Cover me!”
He obeyed without question, his rifle steady as he took down one of the raiders attempting to circle around. 
Even in the heat of the moment, his eyes kept darting to you—how you moved like a ghost through the underbrush, your aim deadly, your composure unshaken.
But when one of them charged at your blind spot, Joel didn’t think. He moved.
The gunshot echoed like thunder as he dropped the man with a single shot. 
You spun to face him, your eyes wide—not with fear but with something else. Relief? Gratitude? Whatever it was, it made his chest swell.
“Thanks,” you said, your tone steady despite the chaos. “But I told you—stay back.”
Joel gritted his teeth but nodded, ducking back behind cover as you finished off the last of the raiders. 
When the dust settled, you stood amidst the wreckage, your rifle slung over your shoulder, your expression calm but sharp. 
You scanned the area one last time before nodding.
“We’re clear,” you said, turning toward him. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Joel replied, though his arm burned where a bullet had grazed him. 
He shifted, trying to hide the blood seeping through his sleeve.
Your eyes narrowed. “You’re hit.”
“It’s nothin’,” he muttered, brushing it off.
“It’s not nothing,” you snapped, stepping closer. Your hand grabbed his arm, firm but not harsh. “We’re done here. You’re going back to Jackson. Now.”
Joel stiffened, his jaw tightening. “I can keep goin’. I’m fine.”
You tilted your head, the corners of your lips pulling into a wry, almost dangerous smile. 
“Joel,” you said, your voice low but laced with authority that sent a shiver down his spine. “Do I look like I’m asking?”
Joel swallowed hard, his pulse hammering in his ears. “No, ma’am,” he muttered, his voice quieter this time, almost reverent.
“Good.” Your fingers lingered on his arm for just a second longer than necessary, the heat of your touch branding him, before you turned toward the horses. “Let’s move.”
At the clinic, Joel sat on the cot, his shirt discarded, the gash on his arm raw and angry. He winced as the doctor worked, stitching the wound with quick precision. 
But his eyes weren’t on the needle or the thread—they were on you, leaning against the doorway with your arms crossed, your expression unreadable.
“You’ll need to rest for at least a couple days,” the doctor said, tying off the final stitch. “No patrols, no heavy lifting.”
Joel opened his mouth to argue, but your sharp glance silenced him immediately.
“Got it,” you said curtly, nodding at the doctor. “Thank you.”
When the doctor left, you turned to Joel, your arms dropping to your sides as you stepped closer. “Let’s get you home.”
Back at his house, you guided him inside, your hand on his arm, your touch firm and steady. 
Joel sank onto the couch with a groan, his body heavier than he wanted to admit. You moved with purpose, disappearing into the kitchen before reappearing with a damp cloth and a glass of water.
“You don’t have to—” he started, but you cut him off with a look that had him snapping his mouth shut.
“Let me,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument.
You knelt beside him, pressing the cloth gently to his arm. Joel swallowed hard, his breath catching at the sight of you so close, your fingers brushing against his skin.
The faint scent of you—clean and sharp, with a hint of something sweet—filled his senses, and he had to clench his fists to keep from reaching out.
When you finished, you sat back on your heels, your eyes meeting his. “Joel,” you said softly, “why do you push yourself so hard?”
Joel looked away, his jaw tightening. “Don’t wanna feel useless,” he muttered. “Don’t wanna… be a burden.”
“You’re not a burden,” you said firmly, leaning closer, your voice carrying a weight that made Joel’s chest ache. “You’re the furthest thing from it.”
Joel’s eyes flicked to yours, his breath catching at the intensity in your gaze. “I just…” He hesitated, his voice breaking. “I just wanna be good for you. Wanna make you proud.”
You tilted your head, a slow, knowing smile curving your lips.
“You already are, Joel,” you murmured, reaching out to cup his face. Your thumb brushed over his cheekbone, and Joel leaned into your touch like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
Joel’s breath was uneven, his good hand curling into a fist on his thigh as he struggled to find the words.
You sat beside him on the couch, quiet and steady, your eyes on his face, your expression calm yet unreadable. It only made him more frantic.
“I—I can’t stop thinkin’ about you,” Joel stammered, his voice rough and breaking. 
He rubbed a hand over his face, his palm trembling slightly as if he was trying to physically hold himself together.
“I need… I need you close. I don’t know what the hell I’m doin’, but I—I can’t keep this to myself anymore.”
Your lips parted slightly, but you didn’t speak. You just nodded slowly, your gaze unwavering, and it made him feel both exposed and comforted all at once. The tension in his chest was unbearable.
“I—dammit,” he muttered, his voice thick, his gaze darting everywhere but your face.
“I’m tryin’ to say it right, but I don’t—I can’t—I need you, alright? I can’t stop thinkin’ about you. About how you—how you’re always so damn steady, and you—”
He sucked in a shaky breath, his eyes finally locking on yours. They were glassy now, his vulnerability laid bare. “You make it easier, y’know? Just bein’ around you… I feel like I can breathe. Like maybe I ain’t so—so broken after all. And I… I need that. I need you.”
You tilted your head slightly, your lips curving into the faintest smile. It wasn’t teasing, wasn’t pitying. It was understanding, warm, and Joel swore it made his chest ache even more.
“Baby,” you murmured softly, the endearment sending a shiver down his spine. “You like me…romantically?”
Joel froze for a moment, his breath catching as your words settled over him. His lips parted, but all he could do was nod, the movement small and jerky, like he was afraid to admit it outright.
“Want to be good for me?” you asked, your voice a low, soothing hum.
Joel’s nod came faster this time, his breathing growing heavier as he leaned into you, desperate for something he couldn’t quite name.
You leaned in slowly, cupping his face with one hand, your thumb brushing over the rough stubble along his jaw. 
Joel’s eyes fluttered shut as you pressed your lips to his, soft and lingering, and the low, guttural sound he made against your mouth was filled with need. 
His hand reached out, gripping your waist as if anchoring himself to you, and his lips parted under yours, seeking more.
But just as he leaned into the kiss, you pulled back, your face still close enough that your breath mingled with his.
“Get better for me first, yeah?” you murmured, your thumb trailing along his jaw.
Joel’s eyes snapped open, his brows furrowing as he shook his head. “No, please,” he whispered, his voice rough and desperate. 
“Please, I can’t—I’ve been waitin’ for so long. Please don’t make me wait anymore.”
You shushed him softly, your fingers sliding through his hair, and Joel practically melted under your touch, his body trembling with the effort to hold himself back.
“You’ll wait,” you said firmly, though your tone was still warm. “Because you’re mine, and I’m not about to let you go. But first, I need you strong, Joel. Need you rested. Yeah?”
Joel let out a shaky breath, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he nodded, though his grip on you didn’t loosen. “Alright,” he rasped, his voice barely audible. “Alright. But just… just promise me you’ll be safe.”
“Well…you know me, baby,” you whispered, your lips brushing against the crown of his head.
Joel’s breath hitched again, his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you close as if to prove to himself that you were real. And as the weight of the moment settled between you, he felt something he hadn’t in years—peace.
· · ───
Joel had never been good at resting, but being sidelined for days was pure torture.
His arm still kinda ached where the stitches pulled at the edges of the wound, but the pain was nothing compared to the gnawing anxiety that came from not seeing you. 
Three days felt like a lifetime, and every hour that passed without you made his chest feel tighter.
You’d been on patrol since the crack of dawn, and Joel had spent most of the day pacing around his house, every creak of the floorboards setting his nerves on edge. 
He hadn’t wanted to push his luck with the doctor or you, so he’d stayed home, but the absence of your presence was like a physical ache.
He’d heard the patrol schedule—you were checking the area near the riverbank, where the raiders had been sighted. 
The thought of you out there, alone or with someone who wasn’t him, made his stomach churn.
Joel knew you could handle yourself—he’d seen it firsthand—but the idea of you in danger without him there to back you up was unbearable.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, Joel couldn’t take it anymore. 
His boots thudded against the wooden floors as he grabbed his jacket and rifle, the pain in his arm be damned.
If he didn’t see you soon, he was going to lose his mind.
The gates of Jackson were quiet, the air cool and crisp as Joel made his way toward the watchtower. A few guards gave him curious glances, but no one stopped him. He wasn’t exactly known for staying out of trouble, injured or not.
“Have you seen her?” Joel asked one of the guards at the gate, his voice gruff.
“Think she’s still out near the west ridge,” the man replied, tilting his hat back. “They were due back an hour ago, though.”
Joel’s jaw tightened. An hour ago. His grip on his rifle tightened as he set off toward the west ridge, his boots crunching against the gravel.
The relief was like a flood when he spotted you in the distance, your silhouette unmistakable against the fading light.
You were walking back toward the gates, your pack slung over your shoulder, your rifle in hand. Joel’s breath hitched at the sight of you, his steps quickening as he closed the distance between you.
“Where the hell have you been?” Joel barked, his voice harsher than he intended as he reached you.
You raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by his tone. “Patrol. Where I said I’d be.”
“You were late,” Joel muttered, his gaze sweeping over you, searching for any sign of injury. “Anything happen out there?”
“Couple of runners,” you replied, brushing past him toward the gate. “Nothing bad.”
Joel followed you, his chest tight as he struggled to find the right words. “You could’ve sent word. Let someone know you were runnin’ behind.”
You turned to face him then, your eyes sharp. “Joel, I’m fine. I’m more worried about why you’re out here when you’re supposed to be resting.”
“I was worried about you,” Joel admitted, his voice quieter now, though no less intense. “Didn’t like not knowin’ if you were okay.”
Your expression softened, and you let out a quiet sigh. “Joel, I told you I’d be back.”
“And what if somethin’ had happened?” Joel pressed, his voice growing rough. “What if—” He stopped, his jaw clenching as he looked away.
You stepped closer, your hand resting gently on his arm. “Hey,” you said softly, your tone soothing. “I’m here. I’m okay. And you need to trust that I can take care of myself.”
Joel’s eyes flicked back to yours, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly at the steadiness in your gaze. “I know you can,” he muttered. “Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna worry.”
You smiled faintly, squeezing his arm. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Joel huffed a laugh, the sound low and rough. “Ain’t what I meant, but… yeah, take it how you want.”
“Come on,” you said, nudging him toward the gate. “Let’s get you home. You’re not supposed to be out here.”
Joel wanted to argue, but the warmth in your voice and the steady grip on his arm made it impossible.
He let you guide him back toward his house, the tension in his chest slowly unwinding with every step.
The walk back to Joel’s house was quiet at first, the two of you falling into an easy rhythm. But as you neared the porch, Joel’s tongue loosened, and the floodgates opened.
“What was it like out there today? Was it quiet before the runners? Were they close? You eat somethin’? Drink enough water?”
You chuckled softly, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “Joel, I’m fine. I promise.”
“I know, I know,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, his steps faltering slightly as you led him inside. “Just… can’t stop thinkin’ about it. About you. Out there without me.”
His voice was rough, his words tumbling out so quickly he barely had time to filter them. “I mean, I know you’re capable—hell, more than capable—but I wasn’t there, and… I hate not bein’ there.”
You stopped just inside the doorway, turning to face him. Joel’s eyes darted over you, like he was trying to memorize every detail, his breathing uneven, his hands twitching at his sides as if he wanted to reach for you but didn’t quite dare.
“You’re rambling, Joel,” you said softly, your voice calm and steady as you reached up to cup his cheek.
Joel froze, his breath hitching at your touch, his wide eyes locking onto yours. “I just…” he began, his voice faltering. “I just—”
“Hush,” you murmured, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “I’m here. I’m fine. And I’m not going anywhere for another 4 days.”
Joel exhaled shakily, leaning into your touch like a man starved. “I know,” he rasped. “I know, but I can’t stop—”
You silenced him with a kiss, your lips soft and warm against his, and Joel melted beneath it, his whole body going taut before he relaxed into the moment. 
His hands found your hips, tentative at first, then firm, gripping you like he was afraid you might disappear.
When you pulled back, his lips chased yours for a heartbeat before he caught himself, his eyes fluttering open. He looked dazed, his chest heaving, his pupils blown wide as he stared at you.
You smiled softly, the sound of his uneven breathing filling the space between you.
Joel’s lips parted as if to speak, but before he could, you leaned in and kissed him again, slower this time. His groan was low and deep, the kind that seemed to come from the very center of him, vibrating through your chest.
His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer, his need unmistakable.
When your lips parted and your tongue brushed against his, Joel whimpered—a sound so desperate, so raw, it sent a rush of heat straight through you.
You couldn’t help but laugh softly into the kiss, and Joel’s grip faltered for a second, his lips pulling into a shaky smile against yours.
“Why’re you laughin’?” he asked, his voice rough, his forehead pressing against yours as he caught his breath.
“You’re eager,” you teased, your hands sliding to his shoulders, feeling the strength there. “It’s sweet.”
Joel groaned again, his cheeks flushing as his hands smoothed up your sides. “Can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice dropping lower. “You’re drivin’ me crazy, darlin’. Been thinkin’ about this for too long.”
His gaze dropped, and his eyes darkened as they settled on the curve of your breasts, visible through the gap in your blouse.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his hands twitching like he wanted to touch but didn’t dare without permission. “You’re perfect.”
You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head as you ran your fingers along his jaw. “Joel,” you said, your tone firmer now, and he immediately snapped his gaze back up to meet yours, his breath hitching. “What are you lookin’ at?”
His cheeks went even redder, but he didn’t look away.
Your lips quirked into a sly smile, and you reached up to unbutton the top of your blouse slowly, deliberately. Joel’s eyes tracked every movement, his throat working as he swallowed hard, his cock straining visibly against his jeans.
“You’ve healed up, huh?” you asked, your tone playful, and Joel nodded quickly, his hands shaking slightly.
“Barely feel it,” he murmured, his voice trembling with anticipation. “Please, darlin’. Please let me—”
You sighed dramatically, shaking your head as you pushed the blouse from your shoulders, revealing the smooth curve of your skin.
“Go ahead, Joel,” you said, your voice steady but laced with heat. “If you think you can handle it.”
Joel groaned, his hands finding your waist again, pulling you flush against him as his mouth crashed into yours.
His kisses were messy, desperate, his lips sliding against yours like he couldn’t get enough. His hands roamed your body, shaky but reverent, sliding up your ribs and hovering just below your chest.
“Eager little thing,” you murmured against his mouth, and Joel whimpered at the words, his hips pressing against yours as his arousal became undeniable.
“Can’t help it,” he breathed, his voice shaky and desperate. “Been wantin’ to get my mouth on you for so long. Wanna lick every inch of you. Fuck, those pretty nipples—been dyin’ to suck on ‘em, darlin’. Let me taste you, please.”
The way his voice cracked, the way he clung to you—it was enough to make your resolve waver. But you weren’t going to let him get off that easily. Not yet.
“Bed,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to guide him toward the bedroom. Joel followed without hesitation, his hands still on you, his body trembling with barely-contained need.
“Sit down, baby,” you murmured, your voice firm but teasing as you pushed him gently onto the mattress.
Joel sat immediately, lips wet and swollen from your kisses, his pupils blown wide as he stared up at you like you were a goddess he was desperate to worship.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his gaze flicking to your chest, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”
You stepped between his legs, running your hands up his thighs, feeling the way they trembled under your touch.
“Is this what you’ve been dreamin’ about, Joel?” you asked, your voice low and sultry as you leaned in close. “Me, standin’ over you like this, lettin’ you look your fill?”
Joel groaned, his head tipping back as his hips jerked involuntarily. “Yes,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Every night, darlin’. I—fuck—I think about you all the time. Can’t stop.”
You smirked, running your hands higher until your fingers brushed against the hard, throbbing bulge straining beneath his jeans. Joel’s breath hitched, his hips lifting slightly as if to chase your touch.
“Bet you’ve been strokin’ that cock to the thought of me, haven’t you?” you purred, your nails scraping lightly along his thighs.
“Thinking about my tits, my mouth, wonderin’ what it’d feel like to have me all over you?”
Joel let out a broken whimper, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress as he nodded. “Yes,” he rasped, his voice thick with desperation. “Fuck, yes. I think about you all the time—Drives me crazy.”
You laughed softly, Joel’s eyes focused, his chest heaving as he took in the sight of you, his gaze zeroing in on your breasts, the way your nipples pebbled in the cool air.
You reached up, cupping your breasts and squeezing them lightly, your thumbs brushing over your nipples. “Wanna taste them, baby? Wanna feel my tits in your mouth?”
Joel groaned loudly, his hands clenching into fists as his cock strained painfully against his jeans. “Please,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Please, let me—fuck, let me taste them."
You smirked, stepping closer and guiding his hands to your hips. “Go on then, baby,” you murmured, leaning in until your chest was level with his face. “Show me how much you want it.”
Joel didn’t need to be told twice. His hands slid up to your waist, pulling you closer as his mouth latched onto one of your nipples with a desperate groan. 
His lips were hot and eager, his tongue swirling over the sensitive bud before he sucked it into his mouth, his teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp.
“Fuck, that’s it,” you murmured, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly. “Good boy, Joel. Just like that.”
Joel whimpered against your skin, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, squeezing them gently as he switched to your other nipple. His tongue worked in slow, deliberate strokes, his lips tugging and sucking as if he couldn’t get enough.
“Finally” he muttered against your skin, his voice muffled but no less desperate.
You chuckled softly, grinding your hips against his lap, feeling the hard line of his cock pressing against your thigh. “You’re so needy,” you teased, your voice dripping with satisfaction. “Can’t even keep your hands to yourself, can you?”
Joel shook his head, his mouth still attached to your nipple as he let out a low, guttural moan. His hands slid down to your hips, gripping you tightly as he rocked against you, his cock throbbing beneath the rough denim of his jeans.
“Can’t help it,” he rasped, his voice hoarse. “You’re all I think about. All I want.”
You leaned down, brushing your lips against his ear. “Then be a good boy for me, Joel,” you whispered, your voice low and commanding. “Keep sucking.”
Joel groaned, his hands tightening on your hips as his lips moved back to your breast, sucking and licking with renewed fervor. His hips bucked against yours, his need spilling out in every touch, every sound.
“You like these, baby?” you murmured, cupping your breast and brushing your thumb over your wet, glistening nipples. “My sweet boy likes them, hm?”
Joel froze for a moment, his pupils dilating as the meaning of your words sank in. His hips bucked sharply, and he let out a strangled moan, his whole body trembling beneath you.
“Fuck, I-,” he groaned, his voice cracking as his head fell back against the headboard. “Shit, darlin’, I’m sorry—I can’t… I’m—fuck!”
You felt the unmistakable heat and dampness spreading as Joel’s hips jerked one last time, his moans spilling into the quiet room. His face flushed a deep red, his chest heaving as he realized what had just happened.
“Shit,” he muttered again, his voice thick with embarrassment as he covered his face with one hand. “I didn’t mean to… fuck, I’m so sorry. This is so stupid—”
“Joel,” you interrupted, your voice firm but soothing as you brushed his hand away from his face. “Look at me.”
He did, his eyes wide and vulnerable, his lips parted as he struggled to catch his breath. The sight of him—flushed, desperate, and utterly wrecked—only made you want him more.
“It’s okay,” you murmured, your lips curving into a wicked smile. “I’m flattered, baby. You just couldn’t help yourself, could you? Had to come in your pants for me.”
Joel let out a choked sound, his hips twitching involuntarily beneath you.
“I… fuck, darlin’, you make me crazy,” he admitted hoarsely. “Can’t stop thinkin’ about you. I need you. Please… let me make it up to you.”
Your smile widened, and you leaned down, brushing your lips against his ear. “Still wanna keep going, baby?” you whispered, your voice dripping with mock sympathy. “After you’ve already made such a mess?”
Joel nodded frantically, his hands gripping your hips like a lifeline. “Yes,” he rasped, his voice breaking. “I don’t think I ever wanna stop, ma’am. Please… let me taste you. I’ll be so good for you, I promise.”
You pulled back slightly, tilting your head as you studied him, your expression unreadable.
Then, slowly, you smiled, your fingers trailing down his chest. “Undress me,” you commanded, your voice soft but firm.
Joel flushed, his hands moving to your waist again. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your pants, his eyes flicking up to meet yours for permission. 
You nodded, leaning back onto the bed as you let him guide the fabric down your legs, his touch careful but firm.
By the time your pants were off, you were sprawled out on the bed, your back resting against the pillows. 
Joel knelt between your legs, his chest heaving as he stared down at you, his eyes drinking in every detail like he was trying to commit it to memory.
"You're beautiful," he said again, his voice breaking slightly as his fingers slid along the waistband of your panties. 
Joel groaned low in his throat, his hands clumsy but desperate as he unbuttoned your pants and slid them down your legs.
He paused when he saw your panties, a visible wet spot already soaking through the fabric. His breath hitched, and he let out a shaky, “Fuck… look at that. So wet for me, darlin’. Goddamn.”
His hands trembled as he paused, glancing up at you for reassurance.
You smirked, one eyebrow arching as you propped yourself up on your elbows.
"Go on, baby," you murmured, your voice soft and encouraging. "You've got me all to yourself. Do what you've been dreaming about."
Joel’s hands hovered over your hips for a moment before he finally let them settle there, his thumbs brushing against the edge of your panties.
Joel settled between your legs like he was kneeling before an altar, his chest heaving and his fingers trembling as he slid along the waistband of your panties.
His eyes flicked up to yours, dark and wide with need, and you gave him the softest smile, threading your fingers into his hair as you gently tugged him closer.
“yeah, baby” you murmured, your voice dripping with encouragement.
His breath hitched, and he leaned down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.
He kissed you there, slow and reverent, his beard grazing your flesh and sending shivers through you. Each kiss was accompanied by a low, throaty groan, his lips moving steadily closer to the source of your heat.
“Jesus Christ,” he rasped, his voice breaking as he reached the edge of your panties. His nose pressed against the damp fabric, and he inhaled sharply, the sound guttural and desperate.
“Fuck, you smell so good, darlin’. Like heaven—sweet, wet heaven.”
His hands trembled as they gripped your thighs, holding you open as he buried his face against you, nuzzling and inhaling like he couldn’t get enough.
The rough fabric of his jeans rubbed against your calves, a sharp contrast to the warmth of his breath and the wet heat of his mouth against your panties.
“Been dreamin’ about this—about your sweet cunt for so fuckin’ long. Want it so bad, baby. Wanna taste you—wanna lick you, suck that pretty clit between my lips and drink you down till there’s nothin’ left.”
You moaned softly, your fingers threading through his hair and tugging gently, encouraging him.
“Yeah?” you whispered, your voice low and breathless. “You wanna eat me out, baby? Wanna show me how good that mouth of yours is? Then take them off.”
Joel knelt between your thighs, trembling as he slid your soaked panties down your legs.
He didn’t even try to hide the way his breath hitched when your cunt was fully exposed to him, glistening and perfect.
His chest rose and fell in quick, uneven breaths as he just stared for a moment, his lips parting like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.
“You just gonna look, Joel?” you teased, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging gently. “Or are you gonna be a good boy and show me what you can do?”
That broke him. His head dipped instantly, his breath ghosting hot over your slick folds as he whispered, “Yes… yes, ma’am.” His voice was low, reverent, almost a prayer.
The first touch of his tongue was hesitant but deliberate, a slow drag from your entrance to your clit, as if he wanted to savor you.
He groaned into you, the sound muffled but deep, and then he leaned in further, pressing his mouth to your cunt like he couldn’t get close enough.
“Good boy,” you murmured, your voice soft but thick with pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so eager for it. Just like that.”
Joel didn’t answer—couldn’t answer.
He was too focused, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you open as he worked his tongue through every inch of your folds.
His breath hitched as he tasted you, his lips sealing over your clit for a moment to suck softly before his tongue returned to explore your entrance.
“Oh, baby,” you breathed, your hips arching slightly into his mouth. “You’re so fucking good at that. Look at you, so hungry for me. You love this, don’t you? Love worshipping my pussy.”
His only response was a desperate, muffled groan and moaning as he shifted his grip, spreading your thighs wider. 
His nose pressed against your clit, and he rubbed it there as his tongue delved inside you, slow and deliberate, tasting you from the inside out. 
His breathing was ragged now, warm puffs of air against your heat between each swipe of his tongue.
“Fuck yes,” he whispered hoarsely against you, his voice barely audible over the sound of his mouth working your cunt. “Fuck… taste so good. Yes. Yes, ma’am…”
You tugged his hair lightly, guiding him just where you wanted, and he followed without hesitation, his moans vibrating through your core. 
His nose nudged your clit again, his tongue lapping at your entrance with long, languid strokes, and your moans filled the room, soft and breathy.
“That’s it,” you encouraged, your voice breaking slightly as he found just the right rhythm. “Such a good boy. Keep going, baby. Make me come.”
Joel groaned deeply, the sound muffled as he pressed his face impossibly closer to your core, his lips locking around your clit. 
Each sound he made was guttural, desperate, like he was losing himself in the taste of you.
His hands gripped your thighs tightly, anchoring himself to you as his nose pressed against your folds, adding pressure in all the right places.
“Good boy,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you combed your fingers through his hair, guiding him exactly where you needed him. “Keep going, baby. Suck my clit just like that.”
Joel whimpered against you, the sound low and wrecked, and he obeyed without hesitation, sucking harder, his tongue darting out to flick over the swollen nub between pulls. 
He groaned again, his hips shifting slightly as if he couldn’t help but grind against the mattress, completely undone by the act of pleasuring you.
Your breath hitched, your body trembling as the tension in your core tightened to an unbearable degree.
“Fuck, Joel—don’t stop. Don’t you fucking stop.”
He moaned louder at your words, his hands tightening on your thighs as he doubled down, his lips creating just the right amount of pressure while his tongue worked you mercilessly. 
His nose nudged against your clit in rhythm with his sucking, the sensation pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Please,” he murmured against you between strokes, his voice trembling with need. “Wanna make you come, ma’am. Wanna feel you fall apart on my tongue.”
That was all it took. Your body tensed, your back arching as your orgasm slammed into you, waves of pleasure crashing through you so hard you couldn’t even form words. 
Joel groaned against you, his tongue and lips relentless as he rode out your release, his moans vibrating through every sensitive nerve ending.
When you finally came down, your thighs trembling and your breath shaky, Joel slowly pulled back, his lips glistening and swollen, his face flushed and eyes glazed with pure adoration.
He looked like a man on his knees at the altar of a goddess.
“perfect,” he whispered, his voice wrecked, his gaze fixed on your blissed-out expression.
“Did I do good?” he asked quietly, his voice raw and hoarse.
You smiled, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Better than good, baby,” you murmured. “Fuck.”
Joel’s eyes darted to yours, wide and full of something raw and pleading. 
He leaned in again, his lips brushing against your inner thigh as he spoke, his voice trembling with need. “Please… can I keep goin’? Just a little more. I don’t wanna stop. Wanna taste you again, ma’am.”
His mouth found your clit in a featherlight kiss, his tongue flicking out experimentally, careful and reverent as though seeking permission. 
His hands slid up your thighs, holding them open like you might change your mind.
“Joel,” you said, your voice soft but firm, your hand threading into his hair and tugging just enough to stop him. “No, baby. I wanna feel you now.”
Joel froze, his breath hitching, and he whined softly against your skin, the sound almost pitiful. “But—” he started, his lips pressing to your clit again in a desperate, fleeting kiss. “I can make you come again. Please, I—”
“Joel.” Your voice was sharper this time, not cruel but commanding. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, his lips glistening and his pupils blown wide. “You’ve been so good, baby, but I want you now. Don’t make me ask twice.”
The words sent a visible shudder through him. He hesitated for half a second before pulling back reluctantly, his lips parted as if to protest but no words came out. His hands lingered on your thighs, squeezing gently as he swallowed hard.
“Yes, ma’am,” he finally said, his voice low and hoarse, the respect and submission in his tone sending a fresh wave of heat through you.
He sat back on his heels, his eyes never leaving yours as he waited for your next command.
You leaned up slightly, cupping his cheek with one hand, your thumb brushing over his flushed skin. His lips were parted, breathless, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was happening. 
“You’ve done so well, baby,” you murmured softly, letting your other hand trail down his chest. “But I need to see all of you. Let’s get this off.”
Joel’s breath hitched, his wide eyes locking onto yours as you reached for the buttons of his shirt. “Yes,” he whispered, the words shaky and reverent, like he couldn’t believe he was allowed this moment.
One by one, you undid the buttons, the fabric parting to reveal the broad expanse of his chest.
You slid the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the bed as you sat back to admire him.
Your gaze swept over the planes of his body—the strong curve of his shoulders, the scars that marred his skin, the soft dusting of hair on his chest.
“Fuck, Joel,” you murmured, your voice full of heat and awe. “Look at you. You’re beautiful.”
His cheeks turned a deep red, and he looked away, swallowing hard. “Don’t know about that,” he mumbled, his voice low and unsure.
You leaned forward, your hands sliding over his chest, your thumbs brushing along the ridges of his scars.
“Oh, I do,” you purred, your tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re fucking perfect, Joel. Every inch of you.”
Your fingers grazed his nipples, and Joel froze, his breath catching audibly. The faintest shiver ran through his body, and he let out a soft, shaky, “Ma’am…”
You smirked, leaning in closer. “Sensitive, huh?” you murmured, circling the hardened peaks with your thumbs.
Joel let out a broken gasp, his hips jerking into the air as his hands gripped the sheets beneath him.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice low and desperate. “Didn’t… didn’t know I -.”
“You didn’t?” you teased, leaning down to press a soft kiss to one nipple before flicking your tongue over it. Joel’s reaction was instant—a guttural moan that sent a wave of heat straight through you.
“Sweetheart I-” he gasped again, his hands trembling as they hovered near your waist, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you. “I—fuck, I—”
“Hush, baby,” you whispered, shifting to his other nipple and sucking it into your mouth. 
Joel cried out, his head falling back against the pillows as his chest arched into your touch.
His hips bucked again, and you could feel how hard he was, straining against the confines of his jeans.
“Fuck,” he whimpered, his voice trembling. “I didn’t know… didn’t know I could feel this good. Please, don’t stop.”
You hummed against his skin, your tongue teasing over the sensitive bud before you nipped at it gently. Joel’s whole body jerked, a sharp gasp escaping his lips.
“You’re so sensitive, baby,” you murmured, sitting back to admire the way his chest heaved, his eyes wide and glassy. “Bet no one’s ever touched you like this before.”
Joel shook his head frantically, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turned white. “No,” he breathed. “Never. Fuck, it’s—ma’am, it’s so good.”
You let your hands drift lower, tracing the sharp lines of his ribs and the soft curve of his stomach. Joel’s eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a shaky moan as your fingers teased the waistband of his jeans.
“You want more, baby?” you asked softly, your voice teasing and full of promise.
Joel nodded frantically, his voice barely above a whisper as he rasped, “Please… please, ma’am. Anything you want.”
You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his jeans, slowly pulling them down along with his underwear, your eyes drinking in the sight of him as he was finally exposed.
Joel’s cock sprang free, flushed and thick, the head an angry, swollen red and glistening with his earlier release.
Pearly streaks of cum had smeared down his shaft, pooling at the base and even dripping onto his balls. You let out a low hum of approval, your lips curling into a wicked smile.
“Such a mess,” you tutted, your voice thick with teasing affection. “You’ve really made quite the mess, baby.”
Joel’s chest heaved, his breath coming in shaky gasps as he avoided your gaze, his embarrassment clear. But his hips jerked slightly, almost involuntarily, at the heat in your voice.
“Aw, don’t get shy on me now,” you teased, your fingers curling gently around his cock, feeling the slickness of him against your palm.
“This is nothing to be embarrassed about. It just shows how much you need me.”
Joel whimpered, his voice breaking as he finally met your eyes. “I… I can’t help it,” he admitted hoarsely, his voice trembling. “You make me—fuck—you make me crazy.”
Your thumb stroked up the length of his shaft, smearing the sticky remnants of his cum before circling the sensitive head.
“I know, baby,” you cooed, your voice softening just a touch. “And I love how desperate you get for me. Let me clean you up first, okay? Can’t leave my good boy all messy like this.”
Joel nodded frantically, his lips parting as a shaky moan escaped him. “Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, his voice thick with submission.
You leaned down, your tongue darting out to trace along the underside of his cock, starting at the base where his cum had pooled and slowly working your way up.
The taste of him was intoxicating, salty and musky, and you let out a quiet, pleased hum as you licked him clean. Joel’s entire body trembled beneath you, his hands gripping the sheets tightly as he struggled to stay still.
“Fuck,” he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper. “Ma’am… oh, fuck…”
You didn’t stop, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, collecting every drop of his release before moving lower.
Your lips closed around one of his balls, sucking gently as your hand continued to stroke him, coaxing soft whimpers and gasps from his lips.
His thighs trembled, his breath hitching as you moved to the other, lavishing it with the same attention.
“You taste so good, Joel,” you murmured, your voice low and sultry as you pulled back slightly to admire your work. “Such a pretty cock, too. Look at you, all clean and perfect for me now.”
Joel moaned loudly, his head tipping back as his hands clenched the sheets even tighter. “You’re—fuck—you’re perfect,” he stammered, his voice cracking. “I don’t deserve this.”
You grinned, your fingers brushing along the length of his cock, your touch light and teasing.
“You deserve every bit of this,” you said firmly, your voice dipping into a commanding tone. “You’ve been such a good boy for me, haven’t you? Letting me take care of you like this.”
Joel’s hips jerked against your hand, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he nodded frantically.
“Yes,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Yes, ma’am. Please… please don’t stop.”
You leaned in again, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his cock, your tongue flicking out to tease the sensitive slit.
“You want more, baby?” you murmured, your voice dripping with seduction. “Want me to make you feel even better?”
Joel’s eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking onto yours as he nodded, his desperation palpable. “Please,” he rasped, his voice breaking. “I’ll do anything. Just… please let me feel you.”
You smiled, soft and knowing, before leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Anything, huh?” you teased, your voice low and dripping with promise. “Then show me, Joel. Show me how much you want this.”
Joel’s hands trembled as he gripped your hips, helping you straddle him. His cock pressed against your slick heat, and he groaned deeply, the sound vibrating through both of you.
His eyes flicked between your face and where your bodies were about to join, his chest heaving with anticipation.
“Don’t make me wait,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and wrecked. “Please, ma’am. Let me feel you.”
You reached down, guiding him to your entrance, your breath hitching as you slowly sank down onto him.
The stretch was delicious, the thickness of him filling you completely, and you couldn’t help the moan that spilled from your lips.
“Fuck, Joel,” you gasped, your hands bracing on his chest. “You feel so good, baby. So big—.”
Joel’s head fell back against the pillows, his lips parted as a choked moan escaped him.
“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice shaky. “You’re so tight, so fuckin’ perfect. Feels like heaven, darlin’. I—fuck—I can’t believe this.”
You rocked your hips slowly, letting yourself adjust to the feel of him before setting a steady rhythm.
Joel’s hands gripped your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he bucked up to meet you, his movements desperate and hungry.
“Good boy,” you murmured, your voice low and commanding as you leaned over him, your lips brushing against his ear. “That’s it, Joel. Let me take care of you. Let me give you what you need.”
Joel whimpered beneath you, his hips stuttering as he clung to you.
“You’re… you’re so fuckin’ good to me,” he rasped, his voice cracking with emotion. “The way you—fuck—the way you handle everything. The way you handle me.”
You tilted your head, studying him with soft affection as your hips moved steadily against his.
“Finally can let go, hm?” you murmured, your tone soothing yet commanding. “Yeah? Let me take care of you, Joel. You don’t have to worry so much.”
Joel’s eyes squeezed shut, his breath hitching as his hands slid up to cup your waist, holding you like you were his lifeline.
“Fuck,” he moaned, his hips bucking harder into you. “I—I worry about you, darlin’. But… but it’s an honor to. Always an honor.”
Your heart clenched at his words, and you leaned down to kiss him deeply, swallowing the desperate sounds spilling from his lips.
His thrusts grew erratic beneath you, his chest heaving as he neared the edge.
Joel’s hands gripped your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your skin like he was afraid to let go.
His breath came in short, ragged bursts, and his hips moved with a frantic rhythm beneath you, desperate and unrelenting. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, your body moving in perfect sync with his.
“You’re so fucking good, Joel,” you murmured against his lips, your voice heavy with affection and desire. “So perfect, baby. Keep going—don’t stop.”
His head tipped back, exposing the vulnerable curve of his throat, a choked moan escaping his lips.
“I—I can’t—fuck, darlin’,” he gasped, his voice trembling with raw emotion. “You feel so goddamn good. Can’t… can’t hold on much longer.”
You cupped his face, bringing his gaze back to yours, your thumb brushing over his flushed cheek.
“You don’t have to hold on,” you whispered, your voice a soothing command. “Let go for me, Joel. Let me feel you.”
Joel’s eyes widened, his pupils blown, and his hips snapped up into you with desperate force.
“You’re—God, you’re everything,” he groaned, his voice breaking as his hands slid up your sides, trembling as they roamed over your body. “Everything, darlin'. Don’t wanna stop… don’t wanna lose this.”
“You’re not gonna lose anything,” you reassured him, your own voice breathy and uneven as you rocked against him harder, the friction pushing you closer to your own edge. “I’m here, Joel. Always. Now, give it to me, baby.”
Joel’s body tensed, his back arching off the bed as a guttural moan tore from his throat.
“Fuck!” he cried, his hands gripping your hips as his release hit him, his cock pulsing inside you with a heat that sent you spiraling.
The intensity of his climax triggered your own, your body tightening around him as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.
Your cries mingled with his, the room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, raw and unrestrained.
Joel’s hips stuttered beneath you, his movements slowing as he rode out the last shuddering waves of his orgasm. His hands loosened their grip on your hips, sliding up to cradle your back as he pulled you down against his chest, holding you close.
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the only sounds in the room your labored breathing and the faint rustle of the sheets. Joel’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, his chest rising and falling beneath you as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.
“You’re… you’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but filled with awe. “I don’t deserve you, darlin’. Don’t deserve any of this.”
You lifted your head, brushing your lips against his with a tenderness that made his breath hitch. “You deserve it all, Joel,” you murmured, your voice steady but warm. “Every damn bit. You’re good to me—you’re good for me.”
Joel’s eyes searched yours, shining with an emotion he couldn’t quite name but didn’t want to hide. His arms tightened around you, his lips brushing your forehead in a lingering, reverent kiss.
"Now rest up. We’ve got work to do.”
· · ───
From then on, you and Joel became Jackson’s most formidable pair. Whether it was managing patrols, handling disputes, or protecting the town, people knew better than to question the two of you. Joel was your rock, steadfast and loyal, while you were the sharp, commanding presence that kept everything moving forward.
He was at your side for every decision, every challenge, always watching your back—and stealing those quiet moments when it was just the two of you. Joel wore his pride in you like a badge, unspoken but deeply felt, in the way his gaze lingered and his touch steadied you.
And every night, as the world outside grew dark, you both found solace in each other—a partnership built on trust, strength, and the kind of love that didn’t need words to be understood.
Joel always said it best in his own way: “Ain’t nothin’ in this world I wouldn’t do for you, darlin’. Always.”
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
I am not beta reading all of that so if y'all find any errors tell me or ignore them like I did the past 22 years. Hope this was fun for you - please comment your opinions (plsplspls). I kinda feel like this is too long idk-
love youuuuuu
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loveanddeepdick · 2 months ago
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sweetheart
obsessed!pervy!roommate!geto x f!reader
cw: roommates with tension to lovers, pervert geto, he’s kinda insane lol.., tracking, obsession, piv sex, kinda angry sex, creampie, possessiveness, panty stealing/sniffing/licking, NOT PROOFREAD IM JUST HORNNNYYY 😜😜
notes:part of my obsessed!geto series hehe, not completely the same as my hcs, but it kinda just combines all of them as best as i can 🫣
┈┈・��� ✦ ୧・┈┈
“care to explain, suguru?”
you were holding up three pairs of your panties, dangling it in the air in front of geto as he’s standing in the doorway of his room.
┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈
you’d moved in with geto nearly three months ago. you thought it was too good to be true, the rent was a little too cheap and the apartment looked somehow nicer in person. you knew suguru, he was close friends with satoru who’d been nothing but kind to you your whole time in high school and now in college as well.
suguru’s aura seemingly changed after the first month of you two living with eachother. you felt his eerie, purple eyes boring into your space and your eyes. you felt the air around you almost tense up when you mentioned guys. it was like he was gripping your soul sometimes.
of course, he knew you were looking back at him as well. when he got out of the shower and his towel was clinging onto his abs. maybe even when he came back from the gym and untied his slicked back hair while his black locks fell onto his muscular shoulders.
one night on your birthday when you both came back from your birthday dinner, he’d given you a special present, a small heart locket. he held his breath as he stood behind you, clicking it into place as he watched how every hair fell from its root in your scalp, how smooth your nape was, how your delicate hand held your hair out of the way.
he had hid a small, unnoticeable tracker inside the locker, tucked away in small details carved into the heart. the way you were carved into his.
he was whipped for you
however, naive of the deeper issues that were lying under your nose, for the past few weeks, you noticed that your underwear had been going missing at a concerning rate. it’d gone from reasonable to unexplainable and it pissed you off. honestly, you wouldn’t have even expected it was geto until he slipped two days ago.
you’d been running around the apartment, checking under tables and in drawers for your missing undergarments that you set out on your bed as you prepared a bath. you groaned before calling out for him
“sugu, have you seen my underwear?” you yelled while pacing the living room, hoping he’d hear you from his room.
“no, i dont even go near your bed”
you huffed, turning away before taking out an old one from the bottom of your underwear drawer until it hit you.
how would he know it was on your bed if he didn’t go in?
┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈
there you were, snooping through his closet when you found exactly what you were looking for, your missing panties. you picked up a fraction what was hidden away in his closet and called out for him while you held them up. he came quickly, stopping at his doorframe as he watched you with the stolen undergarments.
you knew he wasn’t stupid, i mean, he had kept it going for so long. maybe he let it slip on purpose , maybe he wanted you to catch him.
“shiiit, looks like your laundry got in the wrong room,” he chuckled, wiping the shocked expression off his face before stepping into the room, “lemme put that in the laundry basket for y—“
“hell no!”, you shrieked, pulling your panties away, “you’re the reason why they’ve gone missing!”
geto bit the inside of his cheek before sighing and throwing his hands up, “you think they just grew legs? yes, it was me. think about it, sweetheart, who else would it be? the boogeyman?”
your jaw dropped at his words while he quietly laughed at his own joke. he’s perverted and corny. you hadn’t expected such a straightforward response from him. did this man have no shame? he stared at you while you were trying to find the words.
“cat got your tongue? i like you, sweetheart,” he lowered his hands as he grinned, his eyes traveling to the little locket he gifted you, “hope you’re not mad at me, i mean, i’ve seen your browser history, m’not the only person with some fucked up kinks—“
you threw your panties to the side before walking up to him. fuck it. grabbing him by his plain black shirt, you pulled him down and crashed your lips against his. he smiled against your lips, leaning into you before you pushed him away again.
“you asshole! you’re so weird, stealing my underwear when you could’ve just opened pornhub,” you huffed, wiping your mouth and chin with your sleeve.
“running away so soon?” he smiled as you turned away. you wished you could punch him in the mouth.
“yes.” you flatly stated as you try to push past him. he caught your wrist, pulling you back into his chest as he wraps his arms around your torso.
“don’t go, sweetheart. i know you want me,” he leaned in, taking a short sniff of your hair before he rested his chin on your head.
“i don’t want—“
“then pull away. i’ll stop everything, leaving you alone, and pretend nothing happened,” he mumbled, pulling away and holding you by your shoulders. his eyes bore into your face as your eyes wandered elsewhere, ignoring his gaze.
“use your words, baby,” he whispered, his hand coming up to cup your face as you unconsciously lean into him.
“i-i do..” you admit, looking down in shame.
“aww, baby, s’okay..” he chuckled, bringing you back into his arms as he squeezed you, “i know, i know.. don’t be embarrassed, i’m sorry for taking your panties,”
it felt like he was babying you but you couldn’t help but reciprocate his actions, slowly returning the embrace. you look back up to him, his eyes already on you as you go on your tippy-toes, capturing his lips.
“i want you, sugu”
┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈
geto wastes no time, throwing you gently onto the bed as tugs your pajama shorts off, prying your legs open as he smiles as the small damp spot on your panties. embarassed, you try closing your legs but he keeps them open, clicking his tongue in faux annoyance.
he dips his head in, pressing his nose up against your little clit, rubbing it a little as you whimper. he sharply inhales, whining from your scent before his tongue darts out to taste your slick on your panties.
“s-sugu!” you yelp, jolting from the feeling of his tongue and how shameless geto was being
“shh, shh, jus lemme do it,” he whispered, his tongue darting back out to lick back and forth from your clit to your clothed pussy. he pulled back finally, to admire how sheer your little panties had gotten before he pressed his nose in one last time, whining as he inhaled the mess he caused.
he stood back up, gesturing for you to sit up on the edge of the bed, guiding your hand to his crotch. you look up at him for approval before he nods, your hand cupping his erection before unzipping it, his black boxers doing nothing to hide his huge cock.
there was a small trail of black hair making your mouth water, a stairway to heaven, or maybe hell. you cautiously pulled his boxers down, his hard cock springing out as his tip slapped against his tummy.
geto hissed as his cock finally spring free, watching you wrap your hand around it. he couldn’t believe his eyes, he’d been fantasizing about this for weeks, seeing his little roommate beneath him, seeing you finally accept him in.
the moment you wrapped your lips around his cock, he couldn’t do it anymore. he already felt like he was going to cum in your mouth and he’d be damned if his first time in you wasn’t in your little pussy.
pushing you down again on the bed, he yanked your panties off, giving your clit a small spank as you gasped.
“please, sweetheart, lemme cum in your pussy first. we can do whatever you want after,” he whined, pumping his cock as he lined himself up to your wet pussy.
you nodded frantically, reaching down to the bottom of his abs and trailing to his neatly cut pines above his cock. he groaned, his eyes rolling back as he pushed inside you.
“f-fuck.. yes, baby, fuck, i’ve been wanting this for so l-long..” he groaned, loosing himself in the feeling of your wet heat.
“be—shit! be quiet suguru.. just fuck me!” you cried
his head snapped up, his cock hardening impossibly more as he moved his hips, suguru’s girthy cock pushing all the way up and kissing your cervix. he loved you this way. being able to submit yet put him in his place, he loved you.
“fuck, fuck, baby, you feel so good!” suguru’s head dipped down, his eyes widening almost maniacally as he watches his special necklace bouncing in tandem with your tits.
he reached down, running his hands over your chest and the necklace as he pounded your pussy mercilessly. suguru moved his hand down, running your clit with his thumb as he watched his cock disappear into your pussy over and over again, making a translucent white ring of juices form around the base of his cock.
his tip was dragging over your g-spot in an almost euphoric way as he groaned profanities in your ear. he ran his tongue along your collarbone, licking up to his neck to leave marks on your neck.
“say it, sweetheart, say you’re mine” he pleads with you, his eyes furrowing as he grabs your face gently, making you look at him.
“i’m yours, sugu..” you mumble, drunk on his cock as your drool on his hand.
“use your big girl voice, baby, ‘can’t hear you”
“i’m yours! all yours!” you cry, “f-fuck, sugu i’m gonna cum!”
his pace quickens, continuing to hit your g-spot until all you could see was white.
“cum for me, sweetheart, cum all over my cock.. fuck!”
you unravel on his cock, squirting all over his cock, making him cum as well. his cock shot warm ropes of cum deep into your sweet pussy as he paused, not pulling out just yet. he leaned back, admiring you as he rubbed your clit, letting you ride out your orgasm before giving your tits a small spank as well.
“good girl, good fuckin girl.. you’re all mine now, sweetheart”
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norikuna · 1 month ago
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Tumblr media
taking a shower with the jujutsu kaisen men
gojo — despite what his no.1 hater says (gege) i'm telling you and promising you that he showers daily. trust me when i say his white hair is fluffy fresh. spends way too long in the shower and you get a bit bored because he's hyping himself in the mirror beforehand (who's the strongest? you are!). uses a fancy, overpriced shampoo that smells like tropical fruits but leaves the cap off each time. has broken 2-3 waterproof speakers before. once bought a waterproof phone case to scroll his phone in the shower, but ended up getting distracted on tiktok until the water went cold. his bathroom looks like a high end salon, more products than an influencer. leaves little hearts in the condensation on the mirror
nanami — you have your regular showers with nanami, but he's really more of a bath guy i think. like i'm saying a glass of wine and a candle. if he doesn't like you or your name is gojo satoru, then interrupting him here will result in the worst lecture you've ever heard in your life, but if he likes enough, he'll let you sit on the edge of the bath with him and talk about your day. the most pristine bathroom of all time, it's literally a spa. you once asked if his shower head was imbued with cursed energy, because it's just that precise and perfect. very possessive about his towels.
geto — definitely the type to stand under the shower and waste the hot water. this is mainly because he can't help but monologue about his philosophy for too long, and by then, you've hopped out and left him there. the most perfect cherry-blossom floral scented shampoo is the only thing that can touch his thick, glossy hair. his hair is probably stuck to the shower wall a lot, but he tries to blame it on you. weirdly eclectic shower playlists that range from ominous, chanting ballads to 2000s boybands because he claims he's a man with layers.
toji — for a man with a kinda gross job (like assassination isn't all that great right...) he smells good. but that depends on who you ask, because sometimes the scent of cologne is so strong, you feel a little nauseous. prob uses a 3-1 body wash, shampoo and conditioner because its 'all the same anyway.' this makes you cry! spends about three minutes in the shower each time, and then leaves without even drying himself, soaking wet and rawdogging the world. once got a bathrobe as a gift and tried it on for fun, but now uses it all the time when he's lounging around to eat takeout.
sukuna — once asked you to join him for a bath, and you agreed. let's just say you took a big step back when you realises why the bathwater was a thick, gloopy red. you once gave him rubber duckies as a present and he pretended to hate them and gagged. you caught him lining them up in military formation along the edges of the bathtub for 'reasons that aren't your concern.' ended up almost coughing a lung out after accidentally ingesting one too many bubbles. hates most modern inventions but enjoys a good loofah.
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azrielhours · 2 months ago
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Domestic
Azriel x Reader
Word count: 1530
Synopsis: Az watches you get ready for an event. He's never seen the process before and is extremely taken by it. It feels so personal to him and he can’t explain it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He’d never known an intimacy so sweet. It’d likely become an injury he’d carry afterwards when it came to an end.
A taste of domesticity he didn’t even realize he’d been missing out on.
Hours left for the gala they’d be attending, and you were getting ready. The sweetness of watching it unfold was meditative. A window to your most private hours, so glaringly personal that it felt like a sampling of commitment.
He looked forward to this—it quickly became Azriel’s favourite part of the day. All his to savour.
He’d known yearning, he’d known the sex. Had pined over Mor for centuries, pictured a life with her, ached for the void he felt. Coveted pretty females, kept lovers to satiate himself. He was well versed in admiration from afar, but never been privy to the process where a female sat in front of a vanity and readied herself.
And somehow, this felt more intimate than all the rest.
You’d been hesitant about attending the long-haul mission when you learned it would just be you and the guys, but Azriel and his brothers consciously accommodated you right from the start. Before the various dinners and galas, Cassian would train until the very last moment to avoid making you feel rushed. He’d come in 15 minutes before the time to leave, throw on a suit and make some snippy joke about his exhaustive beautifying process. Rhys would be in and out of the room, ensuring all arrangements were taken care of, then savour his time getting ready which actually was exhaustive.
Azriel? He always had reports to go over that kept him strictly in the room. Kept him where he could sink into the luxury of watching your routine unfold.
Fools envied those who found mates for the companionship, the physical intimacy, the assurance of partnership. That’d been what Azriel ruminated on when he watched Rhys love Feyre, Cassian love Nesta. A fool indeed, because he’d never even considered this side of things.
It put entire fantasies in his head. How it would feel to have this routine with you—where you were his. He’d be watching it all happen from his bed. You’d be this comfortable in his room. Take up space in his life. A life where this was his to claim.
Even Mor—all his years of aching for her—any overlapping missions, and she’d kept him from seeing this side of her. There was truly no instance where he’d been let in this way. No relationship or lover where he got to see and learn it.
He’d been memorizing it. It was always a bath first that you’d come out of smelling intoxicating. Gleaming skin beneath a thin dressing robe that ended above your knees. It took a while for you to feel comfortable sitting in the shared room in just your robe, but it took Azriel even longer to be normal about it. To rid himself of thoughts about what stayed on underneath it, or what wasn’t on at all. He didn’t miss the blush that coloured your cheeks when you’d come out, from the heat of the bath or the awareness of your undress. A blush that Azriel matched when he’d look elsewhere, trying to avoid discomforting you, to avoid letting Cassian or Rhys notice his attentiveness.
Next was the dressing table component, where you were currently seated. Your robe sinfully inched up your legs when you lifted your arms to fuss over your hair. Arranging pins into various places. The focus in your eyes he’d catch in the mirror made the thoughts eddy out of Azriel’s brain.
So, so pretty.
A pinch between your brows as it slowly fell into place right. It took a week before you began comfortably playing your symphonia during the routine. Quietly, even though Rhys insisted it didn’t bother anyone. Azriel shuffled his papers, listening to the music that you faintly hummed along to. A breath of feminine exasperation left you that drew his eyes up—you were done with the hair. Tired from the effort.
Azriel bit back a smile at the labour of it all.
His favourite part was next—the cosmetics. Face creams first. A little perfume oil roller down the length of your pretty throat. Intention behind every brushstroke on your skin. Precision in shading beneath cheekbones. He shamelessly looked up to catch the part where you smiled at your reflection to set the rouge on the apples of your cheeks. Looked away again.
Kohl smudged into your lash line. Smaller brushes to sweep pigment on your eyelids. You didn’t notice his glimpses, too focused on the accuracy. A miniature comb you applied to your lashes, brushing upward and coating them black.
Your most beautiful feature, those hypnotic eyes.
He listened carefully for the click when you opened your lip rouge. He glutinously watched you apply colour to your sensuous mouth.
What he’d give to feel that motion he witnessed, the drag forward and back across your lips beneath the pressure of the rouge. The plush he could see—could practically feel. Colour he could envision smudging prettily with his thumb.
He cast his gaze down again. A composing deep breath, nearly shuddering.
Rhys cleared his throat, making Azriel’s head snap to him where he was sitting at the desk. He’d been getting dressed. Azriel didn’t even notice he’d sat down. A hateful smirk pulled the corners of Rhys’s mouth up. Azriel glared, returning his focus to his reports.
You admired your completed work, checking the presentation from various angles. Azriel would stare at the angel in the vanity too if it weren’t for his bastard brother making silent insinuations to his side.
He was spared when Cassian entered the room, looking at you, and releasing an inflated sigh of relief. “Thank God. We can let you out into the public again.”
You laughed mirthfully. “I’d say the same about you, Cass, but you could use a little work.”
He only approached you, crowding your space. “Can I get some of that?” he nodded to your products.
You laughed again, scooting for him to unceremoniously squish at your side on the tiny bench. You dolloped something onto your fingers, twisting to smear it onto his face, grinning.
“Azriel wants some too,” Rhys chimed in.
His heart faltered.
You glanced back, meeting Azriel’s gaze, brows high. He had to clench his jaw to keep down any reaction. Your beauty stunned him, and whatever Rhys was playing at, whatever you were going to do—
He was too startled by the suggestion to think to deny it. Too late, he realized, his silence implied agreement.
Somewhat bashfully, you rose in answer, product in hand.
Azriel remained frozen as you approached him. Both his brothers watched, but all he could care about was the homecoming he felt when you sat next to him on the bed.
Did you have any idea how profoundly personal it felt?
That feeling of Déjà vu befell him again—whatever version of this domesticity existed in another life where this was his. You were indeed on his bed, more bare than not. About to touch him like he was all yours.
That part bore the most truth, in this life and whatever other lives he was getting visions of.
You sat close enough that the skin of your knee tested his focus. It was just moisturizer that you’d squeezed onto your fingertips, but God did it feel like something precious, or maybe it was the sense of reverence you put into anything you touched. He held his breath as you raised your hand and gently smudged the cream across his cheekbones.  
Azriel felt like a teenager all over again, heart soaring at the tenderness.
Eyes focused, you leaned closer. Your other hand came up to gently cradle his face, thumbs stroking the product more intently into his skin. He hoped you couldn’t hear his heart as you stroked across his cheek a third time. Warm and soft. Azriel savoured the proximity. How even more devastating you looked up close.
“There,” he felt your breath softly puff onto his cheek. You retracted your hands, bracing yourself on his bed.
“Thank you,” he muttered lowly. The two of you remained for a beat. This time, Azriel didn’t try to hide his stare.
You finally broke it, seeming to recall the intrusive observation of your viewers. You rose, heading to the bathroom.
He couldn’t care less about his brothers’ prying eyes. Not with your warmth still sinking into his skin.
So, so familiar.
When the bathroom door finally opened, he snapped out of his thoughts. You’d changed into your gown. Your eyes found his immediately, chin marginally dipping under his gaze. He noted your slight shiver, and he allowed himself to wonder if you too felt the strange air. Charged with false nostalgia.
You only shook it off, smiling at him.
He felt it prickling again as he drank in the sight of you. Like flashbacks from another future. Something in his chest tightened. Likely the injury of tasting this domesticity already setting in, it seemed.
He only smiled back.
He’d figure it out later.
~  
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theeternalwombtarot · 2 months ago
Text
your persons intimate fantasies about you (18+)
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Message: you guys over here on tumblr have the nsfw covers and the covers for TikTok and Instagram are sweeter because unfortunately TikTok is sensitive and so is Instagram 💀 anyways, we’re in Scorpio season and I felt like it was time for me to do another 18+ reading, I hardly ever do these, they all make nervous 🙄✋🏾but for you, I will do it because who doesn’t want the tea on what their persons fantasies are about them let’s literally be for real. Stop looking at me I’m embarrassed 😞. Let’s just hurry up and do it.
***
pile one: The first card out was the sun card upright pile one, I've got some channeled messages as well that I've pulled out this person just wants to make you happy, they just want to please you. You're the top priority in their fantasies about you, I get the imagery of someone working extra hard, doing everything in their power to make sure you cum first if not multiple times, it's almost like they wouldn't even care if they finished themselves. They think you'd look pretty during sex or that your faces and moans would further push them to fuck you with their best effort. This person also may feel like you're a tough one or have a strong energy outside of the bedroom in your day-to-day life this person wants you to melt in their hands and submit to them, I'm also hearing they want you to be completely exhausted afterward, out of breath, or they want to be put you straight to sleep. Some of these people are masculine energies and have really heavy dominant traits or tendencies, care for you, adore you, may want to protect you, or be protective of you.
There's a lot of imagery of someone lying behind you or draping a heavy arm over you when you guys are finished or watching you sleep to admire their accomplishment or to make sure you're okay. I also pulled "acts of service (pleasure, aftercare, etc.) from my channeled messages so that kind of confirms the energy I'm getting from this person. They may be the type to run you a warm bath afterward, help you clean up, or make sure everything is to your liking afterward. This person is going to prioritize your needs every time, anything you do for them in the bedroom or sexually I heard "would be nice." but it's never their top priority. You may be really pretty or be someone who is really put together or would go into intimacy, makeup, and hair done, looking nice, I kind of almost get like an old school wifey vibe, the way beauty ritual for your husband/partner was a thing, like pampering yourself, putting on a little makeup, doing your hair, or putting on something your partner would like before they come home to you. This person imagines you looking good before sex with them and may even feel like you almost look your best but they fantasize about ruining all that, mascara streaming down your face, hair looking insane, lipstick swiped off, etc.
This person loves your face or your features either way though so you'll always be pretty to them or this person is really in awe of your physical appearance. Pulled "Cancerian features (soft bodies, curves, breast, soft features, etc.)" This person thinks your natural features are very sweet but also thinks that you're very sexy, you may have full hips, or a soft body shape, a nice waist or midriff, you may have big boobs or a soft or full butt too and this person is really obsessed with that, imagines themselves in between your thighs if you're a woman, imagines themselves caressing your skin or grabbing handfuls of your ass. I'm getting like doughy imagery, like a Greek goddess or even people who have similar body types to doja cat or someone with a south African body type or maybe even someone Somali. This person thinks your figure is the embodiment of a whole lot of woman. getting "this is a man's world, but not without a woman." This person is obsessed with you pile one, you're extremely desirable to them. I get a lot of pussy worship from this pile too, if you're a woman this person fantasizes about eating you out or lapping away at you or sticking their fingers in it.
Pulled "wet pussy." too, this person thinks you're hiding a slip in slide in between your legs and fantasizes about you being wet for them or fantasizes about what it would feel like to stick their hand in your panties or discover that you are aroused. which one of you are water signs, it's sticky in here. 😟. I haven't even gotten to the second row of cards in my spread, this person just has a lot on their mind, they dreams about you often, has wet dreams about you or fantasize about being intimate with you like clockwork, they should be getting paid for it due to all the time they devote to thinking of you. This person dreams of you desiring them though or being impressed with them, you being needy or them being the object of all your desires or someone you ache for or spend a lot of time fantasizing about. If this person is quiet about their desires or nonchalant about things like this, I hope you know they're pretending. This person fantasizes about you coming undone all over them, tearing up during orgasms or releasing high-pitched moans or making all types of outlandish vocalizations while they f*ck you. They want you all to themselves and if they're spiritual or are into spiritual thinking they fantasize about a soul-deep connection with you that makes your desire for them magnified and out of control.
I was just listening to "any time, any place" by Janet Jackson yesterday, and I had "my heart belongs to you" by Jodeci stuck in my head yesterday, I absolutely get 90s baby-making music vibes from this person. This person wants to worship you. This person wants to drag you around on the bed, pick you up and toss you around, or loves to be hands-on, this person likes to talk you through it, will tell you good job for squirting and creaming. LMAO nooo! the intro lyrics to "my heart belongs to you" being exactly how this person feels, go look at the lyrics immediately. This person also feels like you're a little shy about sex or are usually very quiet about your desires and like to keep them to yourself and this person thinks this is cute or this turns them on. I also pulled the king of cups but it landed sideways, this person is extremely sweet on you but the sideways position of the card leads me to believe this person is sweet on you and wants to cater to you romantically and be obsessed and cuddly with you but in bed sort of has a switch that they flip. This your man???? I don't know friend I had to stand up out of my seat and clap..
channeled messages I pulled:
"Relieving period cramps or menstrual pain through penetration"
"Favorite place? ; inside you."
"Cancerian features (soft bodies, curves, breast, soft features,,"
"wet p*ssy."
"exactly someone's type."
"finger f*cking (knuckles deep, rings on fingers,,)" yall need to be stopped.
"favorite positions/taking notes"
"eyes tearing up"/"coming undone."
special spots (g-spot,a-spot, erogenous zones on your body) this person knows what you like or will study you and wants to hit all the right spots repeatedly
"desire to please"
"wet dreams"
"sex after marriage or delayed gratification"
"acts of service (pleasure, after care, etc.")
"worship of eachothers divinity / divine feminine worship/ divine masculine worship"
"having sex in public , "any time any place"" (this person likes the idea of car sex with you, you being needy, or not being able to wait until you get home to sleep with them)
"obsessed with your physique"
"first to break celibacy or take virginity"
channeled music:
"any time, any place" -Janet Jackson (miss freak-a-leak supreme)
"Feenin'" -Jodeci
"My heart belongs to you" -Jodeci
"Just the two of us" - Bill Withers
"It's a man's world" - James Brown
"At Last" -Etta James
extras:
this person has sloppy or big handwriting
this person is a quick thinker, is witty, or pays close attention
this person has calloused hands or does a lot of work with their hands
"I will survive" - Gloria Gaynor (this song came on auto-play and was really distracting to me, I almost got up and did a back flip and put on an entire performance, you may remind this person of this song or something like it, I'm channeling a lot of 70s energy or 70s feminine energy, this person may think of you that way or you give them 70s sex symbol energy, think Pam Grier, big breasted and natural, supple skin, big hair, glamour, etc. )
beauty competitions or pageants or feminine displays of beauty like burlesque is the energy you give this person
Etta James or Beyonce in Cadillac Records (you really remind this person of vintage women in history or if you're a man vintage male figures in history, there's something this person picks up when they think of you that's very vintage, classic, romanticized or antique and valuable)
you remind this person of classic recipes or like angel food cake, classic vanilla recipes, homemade things or nostalgia specific to fragrance, touch, and auditory stimuli like music or melodies.
this person likes to eat, they're an eater and you might be as well, is a fan of fine dining but also is a fan of oral sex and likes it done to them as well, is a big fan of how you suck dick if you do oral is big in this connection. if you've never gotten good oral, this persons about to change your life or thinks of doing so, mouth wide open, chin dripping type of people.
blankets or bed being a mess, or like pillow feathers being all over the place
*****
pile two: there's a lot going on in this pile two but I feel like this reading is about to change your life or give you some huge take away, if this person is someone you're romantically invested with this is more than just a telltale on what they want to do to you. I immediately pulled the three of cups card and I was like ??? but there's a message here about this person's sexuality and sexual experiences being connected to their love lives or romance, this person has very heavy Scorpio energy, they're obsessive and possessive and heavily devoted in love but they want to make people fight for their love or fight for their commitment and devotion. This person may have third parties or like to keep their options open or may like a lot of attention and get a lot of attention but they fantasize about everything about you captivating them and making them change their ways, put their walls down, and commit/marry you.
They fantasize about you going out of their way to earn their love and devotion and then they fantasize about how they're gonna fuck and make love to you after you earn it as a reward. I pulled "best you've ever had" from the channeled messages too. This person is taken up by you and sort of admires your beauty and admires you like you're this persons "little love" I heard but they're about to turn you every which way but loose if you devote yourselves to them and prove that you truly love and care for them. This person is afraid of abandonment or has trouble with commitment but they don't really on the inside on an internal scale. this person has layers or is a complex individual but you're the one who understands them or you understand the interworking's of their mind.
This person fantasizes about exploring sex and intimacy with you or exploring each other's bodies. This person may need trust and emotional intimacy and connection to get it up for people or to even consider having sex. This person is used to being desired or people lusting over them but that is a surface level idea and they understand it's temporary unless it's built on the right foundation. They may be a virgin or be saving themselves but most people would assume the opposite. This person fantasizes of driving you wild or making you needy and crave sex with them or crave their touch, I'm channeling the energy of that scene in 40 days and 40 nights when he finally gets the girl and they don't have penetrative sex but he brings her to an orgasm with just a flower alone, like this person wants you to want them that bad. Tugging on their belt loops when you hug them, wanting to smell them, not being able to get enough of their embrace, like that!! I'm also channeling the song "Summertime" by Ella Fitzgerald and how gorgeous her voice is in that song and how in flow she is with the male harmonizer on the record. They're trying to fuse souls with you, they want to make music with you, the music being you moaning loudly.
This person imagines that you have really high-pitched moans or orgasms or they try to imagine what you'd sound like during sex by the tone or frequency of your voice, they love your voice. Thinking of you moaning drives them insane as well, one of their fantasies is to make you yell or have you be really loud to the point where other people can hear you but they don't care or aren't ashamed. If you're the type of person to cover your mouth or try to be quiet they're going to hold your hands back when they know you're close. This person is like a hopeless romantic at heart like they're badly hoping you'll love them through their setbacks or their issues to the point in which they grow, heal, and leave all that behind. You may be someone whose a little prone to loving unconditionally or loving people through rough times in their lives and you'll get your happily ever after through that energy of being exactly who you are.
this person knows how sweet you are or picks up on it when you have a hard time when they're away even if you try to put up facades or pretend, and they really like that you want them, that you crave their attention and quality time. If you're crazy and needy they love that about you. This person needs to be loved unconditionally within this lifetime. You're their person. This person is really into the idea of you guys both equally giving and receiving romantically but also sexually. This person fantasizes that you'd do anything to please them and they you. This person fantasizes about fucking you dizzy and making you forget about anyone else you've ever liked or cared for or ever wanted to be with. They see the whole nine yards with you too, the house, the marriage, the kids, the wealth!! PUT IT ON EM' MAKE EM' WANNA MARRY ME!!!
This person also fantasizes about little bouts of intimacy between the two of you especially if you guys are waiting for sex till after you're married or till after you're ready whenever that may be. they fantasize about sloppy kisses with you, getting hot and heavy and almost getting carried away and they fantasize about fingering you and the sounds you'll make when they do, they also know and think about how wet you get for them or how tight you are just over two fingers. They're obsessed with your face and your eyes too, you may have big eyes or eyes that catch a sparkle or a lot of light, and they're obsessed with your eyes and lashes, they also fantasize about messing up your lipstick or your lip combo or being covered in kiss marks by you or covered in your lipstick. lol or like kind of comedic vibe like them coming out a closet with you in public covered in kiss marks and your lipstick, looking crazy. A connection between the two of you will be very passionate and hot and heavy to the point where your friends will be able to feel the desire radiating off the two of you and after you have sex for the first time it'll be even wilder. You may even have an anonymous or faceless blog of your own when you're a little older or some years into your relationship or start writing a book to share about your sex experiences or romance.
channeled messages I pulled:
"worship of each other's divinity, divine feminine worship/divine masculine worship"
"exactly someone's type."
"Cancerian features (soft bodies, curves, breasts, and soft features)" Your person really loves your boobs and your skin, they feel like your boobs fit perfectly in their hands or they love your nipples.
favorite positions/taking notes. Your person is gonna study the way your body reacts to things, the sounds you make, if your breath quickens, what makes you cum the fastest, etc. They're gonna make it their lives work to know exactly what you need
"desire to please"
"acts of service (pleasure, aftercare, etc.) this person is going to be extremely obsessed with you, I just heard "whatever you'd like my love."
"relieving period cramps through penetration" I'm getting the energy that this persons going to do whatever they can to make you feel happy and comfortable like I feel like in early stages of your relationship this person would want to cater to you when you're on your menstrual cycle if you're a woman, buying you gifts, buying flowers, buying you food or sending food to your house, getting you a heating pad or making sure your water cup is full and you have the medication you need or the sanitary products you need after ya'll are done waiting they'll def be doubling all that plus sex for added relief. I'm hearing this person doesn't care if you bleed all over their sheets either.
"having sex in public. "any time, any place."
"finger fucking (knuckles deep, rings on fingers, etc.)" I feel like this person is going to live to have their fingers in your twat in early years of your connection, like they genuinely enjoy hearing your reaction to their fingers, watching your face and feeling you cum all over their fingers. But they'll be really quiet and respectful about the things you do like not telling their friends or dodging questions intending to pry on your intimate lives but will encourage you or really like it when you tell your friends about what you guys do or brag about your intimate lives to your friends.
"best you've ever had." ("and the only.") I heard them add. EEOOWWW! 😛😋 that's like their favorite thing ever, they love that.
"spending money/spoiling" prepare for Cartier and Hermes!!
"wet dreams" bros waking up in a puddle-
"medicine for the soul." aww, this person feels like you make them all better like spending time with you replenishes them of energy and optimism
"wet pussy." hasn't even had it, they clearly just knows intuitively.
channeled music:
"Smooth operator" - Sade
Tennessee whiskey - Chris Stapleton (the lyrics on this one are incredibly resonate, listen or look this one up, especially the lyric: "but when you pulled out your heart I didn't waste it.")
"back to black" - amy winehouse
"you know I'm no good" - amy winehouse
"there is something on your mind" - Big Jay Mcneely
"I only have eyes for you" - The flamingos
"I'd rather go blind" - Etta James
"A Sunday kind of love" - Etta James
extras:
nonchalant-like behavior or pretending to be nonchalant in the beginning
sweetheart
true colors
true love/heart/personality
devotion
scorpio!!!! / being testy in love
amy winehouse in general and her energy or music
"earn it." "how bad do you want me."
Mr. Grey Type or Fifty Shades of Grey being really similar to the connection
Jazz
blues music
red lipstick/lip combos
blankets being a mess, pillow feathers being all over the room
the wedding sex scene in twilight, longing for it, waiting for it, not wanting to hurt you during sex, the bed breaking, getting pregnant right away or not having to try very hard to get pregnant
"brag about it. / "telling the groupchat"
legs being sore, trying to get out of bed and immediately falling/not being able to walk straight
hair being tangled the morning after
turning you every which way but loose
"someone tell that man to get off of her."
big wedding
well endowed/big d*ck/big surprise
pent up frustration, "waited for you,"
bedroom being a mess the morning after (clothes on the floor, bottles, decorations all over if there was any, blankets on the floor, etc.)
jealous women or men, people wondering what about you has your person wrapped around your finger
"wifey. wifey. wifey." (future song trend on tiktok)
mad you left them in bed by themselves, will come to find you, carry you back
handsy/touchy
likes your perfumes or colognes or your taste in fragrances
likes your hair/likes it long, will help you do or style your hair or will help you with your hair
likes your eyes and lashes
"pretty face man"
Etta James and Leonard chess and their relationship portrayed in Cadillac records (him being taken up with her despite third party, the scene where he caresses her face AND YOU CAN LITERALLY HEAR HOW SOFT IT IS UGH!!, buying her stuff/going out of his way to do stuff for her, caring for her or sympathizing with her past/inner child trauma when she's in vulnerable states)
pile three: I'm starting off the reading upright with the "Death" card. I feel like this person is someone from your past or someone that you've departed from or since left or aren't in communication with anymore. This person fantasizes about immense change or some sort of full-force transformation that results in them being married to you and having the full ten of cups energy, everything they've ever wanted, the kids, the dog, the house, the fish, the luxury mommy SUV. everything!!! this person fantasizes about being everything you want and giving everything you want, both in general and sexually. If this isn't a current connection I kind of get the vibe that there was a huge ending or tower moment that resulted in this relationship or connection closing out altogether but this person has not yet let you go whether they've seemingly moved on or whatever!!! You're on their mind a lot as well and they sort of feel like you're above them or like they don't deserve you (and they're probably right) but they're obsessed with you.
The reading started with Creep by Radiohead on shuffle too! This person may have communicated with you a lot through music when ya'll were invested and connected or there were several songs that you resonated with or that they resonated with regarding their connection. This person may fantasize about making love to you to one of you guy's old playlists made about your relationship. Tennessee Whiskey could've been significant to you in this connection as well. ALL THE LYRICS!! This person may like to drink too or like whiskey themselves, be a smoker or be a person with bad habits and bad vices. I think this person fantasizes about your heart still being in this connection and your body too. Like they wonder and fantasize about you up late at night losing it over them both emotionally and sexually. they fantasize about you not being able to get off with anyone else or you thinking about their sex when you're with other people. They fantasize about you not wanting anyone but them or having a hard time dealing with the fact that they're away and can't have them. This person feels exactly like this over you and has a hard time getting aroused or getting it up for other people unless they think about you.
This person misses the way it feels the way it feels to fuck you, if they're a man they may like being deep inside you and watching you struggle to take it all or they like the sound you make when they put it in. Or they like when you rub on them or tug on them when you guys fuck. This person's hands may have been extremely attractive to you or something about hands and fingers are significant. I like hear them saying they didn't touch you enough or savor the feeling of your skin enough or your body or they didn't finger you enough. I don't know what's up with the collective and fingering today.. anyways, whoever you're with or whatever you're doing this person feels like they have a lot of competition or a lot of options or they've been watching you and you look really good and they're literally craving your touch and sex with you. This person really likes what your vagina smells like their idea of a good day is putting their face in between your legs and leaving it there. disregard that if you don't own a vagina but I don't know either way your smell both natural and fragrance choices turn this person on or they miss it.
this person is really is really turned on by your confidence and your magnetism they fantasize about being your man or your woman or your lifelong partner and people noticing how hot you are and being upset that they're the ones who get to fuck you every day or wake up next to you. Like this person wants to be the boyfriend mentioned in "teenage dirtbag" by Wheatus who has the hot girl, drives the hot girl and doesn't give a fuck about the people who eye their person because they're irrelevant to them. This person also feels nobody fucks you like they do or like you and them know how good they make you feel or they fantasize about you having that sort of mindset. they also feel like you were designed for them or made for them like they feel like they like the way you wrap around them or how your inner walls feel or flip that to resonate with you if necessary.
I'm totally getting "complicated" by Avril, this person absolutely feels like you spending time away from them is you acting like you don't care. they're so stuck on you. They miss your mouth too, whatever you do, whatever type of oral you give is like their greatest weakness, they reminisce about the way they feel in your hands or the way your fingers feel. This person is obsessed with everything about you and it drives them completely insane.
channeled messages I pulled:
"releasing period cramps through penetration" if you're a feminine energy this person may have knowledge of you having heavy intolerable cramps and fantasizes about being the one to take care of that for you or make you feel better. it's weird because it's like this person after whatever you guys have been through now wants to be the most considerate, the most sugary sweet, the most giving, etc.
"Cancerian features (soft bodies, curves, breasts, soft features)" I've pulled this for every pile but there's a lot of energy in this one, they envy whoever gets to feel you in their hands, their obsessed with the way your skin feels or the way your body or waist fits in their hands, you may have a smaller frame or be shorter, they miss the way your ass feels, they've always loved that about you, and they miss your breasts, they love to put your nipples in their mouth or want to motorboat you really bad lol!
"mocking/playfullness" this person may fantasize about making fun of your moans or this is something they used to do
"worship of your divinity/ divine feminine worship" you have a lot of divine feminine energy or this person feels like you're an earth angel or you're extremely magical and they want to tell you all about that while they're fucking you, I just picture someone talking to you, affirming you, talking you through it during the act
"sex after marriage or delayed gratification" I get the energy that this person really wants to marry you but that they're also in a constant energy of longing or craving you/feeling like they have to earn sex with you and your time and attention
"eyes tearing up/coming undone" this person fantasizes about giving their all to you and fucking you until you lose it and can't handle it anymore
"medicine for the soul" this person really feels like you make them feel extremely good/make them feel better like if they're feeling upset you always fix it or if they're feeling low they know exactly who to go to. or they feel like you have a healing/magic touch.
"acts of service (pleasure, after care, etc.)” this person really desires to give back to you or give you everything you’ve wanted or did want. I get the vibe that you guys relationship the first time around had a lot of you being the type of person to pour into this person and they feel like they owe you. They want to give back to you sexually and emotionally and prove to you that they care for you I feel like
“Oral sex (sloppy head or pussy eating)” this one is sort of confirmation I feel like this person is obsessed with your mouth or your oral skills and the way you go down on them and they miss it. I feel like they’re tired of going through life with people don’t know how to suck dick or eat pussy it annoys them lol
“Period sex” this person may have done some spiritual research or has educated themselves on soul ties or even just if women enjoy period sex or not and I feel like this person wants to try that with you or see how you’ll behave when your/their senses are heightened like that, they like they idea of fucking you year around, no pauses, not for anything not even blood
“Nobody fucks you like I do.” LMFAO yes!!! This person swears by this..
“Spending money/spoiling” this person fantasizes a lot about taking you places or going places with you, buying you gifts or giving you gifts or feeling like they’re spoiling you or giving you everything you’ve wanted desire and deserve. They may even think about sex after romantic gestures
“Appreciation/affection” this person may have a love language of physical touch, is touchy, loves kissing you, holding you close, grabbing on you or showering you with love and affection. I feel like they’re tired fantasize about that in general but especially about kissing you all over your body, kissing your neck, kissing places they know make you aroused, they fantasize about worshiping your body with affection
“Studies you/pays close attention to body language” this person may have grown up with you or has known you for a long time, I’m getting a message here about it having watched you come into yourself, having learned the things you liked over the years, in general but also in the sexual sense once you guys started being sexually active. I think that’s where this person gets this idea from that they know your body like no other or nobody can fuck you like they do, this person knows what you like, what you want, where to kiss you, where to touch you..
channeled music:
"Girl I'm Gonna Miss You" -Milli Vanilli
"Killing Me Softly" - Fugees
"Can't Take My Eyes off of You" - Lauryn Hill
"Creep" - Radiohead
"Tennesse Whiskey" - Chris Stapleton
"Complicated" - Avril Lavigne
"Ain't No Sunshine" - Bill Withers
"Don't Know Why" - Norah Jones (and this lyric especially: something has to make you mine)
extras:
nostalgia or reminiscing
never-ending longing
"fucking someone else to the thought of you."
stalking your social media/looking at your posts over and over
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gh0stsp1d3r · 22 days ago
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I feel like Zach is truly the opposite of Rafe and is THE most gentle and selfless lover who is def one of those ‘’If you are not having a good time, I’m not’’ and ‘’There is nothing better then seeing a girl enjoying herself’’ types of guys rather then a selfish dude who just wants to get off. Not that rough or anything and only really curses during sex when it is really good and he is overwhelmed. Maybe you can do something with the Reader and him having sex for the first time and she has only had really awful selfish boyfriends in the past and so him being so gentle and caring takes her by suprise
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NO GOURE SO RIGHT. He’s the sweetest ever.
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You’ve opened up to him in the past about your old relationships, he knew they were bad, but he never knew they would affect you like this.
When you first have sex, he’s confused as to why your eyes look teary and you look like you’re genuinely about to cry. He pauses his thrusts for a moment with a furrowed eyebrow.
“Hey, hey, are you okay?” He asked you, slowly bringing you back down to earth.
You looked up at him, with all the love you think a person a could feel. “I’m fine. Sorry.” You sniffled, a small smile on your face.
“Why do you look like you’re gonna cry, then?”
“Because. I love you, Zach.”
It’s not like you haven’t spoken the words to him before, it just meant so much more in this moment, he had a small smile on his face, leaning down to capture your lips in his, slowly beginning to thrust again, your hands wrapping around his neck as you let out little moans that sounded like music to his ears.
“Love you too, so much, baby.” He murmured in your ear, one of his hands slithering down to where your body’s connected, his fingers traveling down to your clit, rubbing slow circles on it.
Your back arched off his bed, your eyes snapping shut, Zach watching your expression with a dazed smile on his face.
You came undone on his cock with a cry, overwhelmed with the feeling that fell over you, the best orgasm you’ve ever had.
When it was done, you looked up at him with a matching smile, him leaning down as he pulled out of you to release on your stomach, and kissing you again.
He went into the bathroom, grabbing a wet rag, before cleaning you up, wiping your body clean. You just looked at him.
Aftercare with your ex’s was not normal, and it definitely wasn’t like this. He looked up at you with a smile again, tossing the rag somewhere he would pick it up later, grabbed a towel, wrapping it around your body. He picked you up, bridal style, and carried your spent body into the bathroom.
“Let me start a bath, okay?” He told you, his voice a whisper. You hummed in reply, your arms wrapped around his neck again.
You sat on the closed toilet seat, watching as he ran the water underneath his fingers, before deciding it was an okay temperature and helping you sit in it.
He got undressed as well, sitting with you in it, not even in a sexual manner. He washed your body for you, while you leaned into his body, him wrapping his arms around yours, his head on your shoulder.
“Thank you.” You whispered to him. Zach’s head shot up, furrowing an eyebrow at you.
“What for?”
“For… caring. You’re the sweetest boy I’ve ever met, Zach.” You admitted.
“You don’t have to thank me for that. It’s what you deserve.” He told you, pressing kisses onto your bare shoulder.
“No one else did…not like you did.”
“They’re assholes.” He replied, making you giggle, splashing water at him.
“I know, but, none of my old boyfriends ever did any of that for me. It was always… about them. Never about me.”
“They’re all… a bunch of losers anyway. You don’t need to worry about them anymore, yeah?”
You nodded in agreement, sighing and leaning further into him.
“Yeah.”
“I love you.” He told you again, pressing one more kiss to your shoulder, you smiling, glancing behind you and kissing his cheek.
“Love you too.”
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seasprincess · 1 month ago
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JJ fic. I'm thinking sweet smut. Like almost goofy because that's just who he is, rarely super serious. And he and reader just know each other so well that things can be goofy, even during sex and neither of them care. Unprotected (if you're good with that). Then maybe reader finds out she's pregnant. Worried to tell JJ. But he's so thrilled.
bf!jj
a/n: I loveeed this ask
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warnings: smut, pregnancy, unprotected s3x (wrap it pookies), brain rot.
“Have you got a condom?” As soon as the words leave your mouth the blonde, that’s on top of you, head pops up. He looks at you slightly confused. His hands stoping the rubbing against your lacy panties.
“I thought you were bringing them?” JJ says, his blue eyes looking into yours as he suddenly remembers.
He was supposed to bring them.
“Fuck sake.” He sighs as he runs his head, this isn’t the first time he’s had to run out and buy them during this intimate moments. He just a forgetful guy.
“Fuck it.” You say, not even thinking about it twice. You need this. He’s been touching you for too long. “You’ve been edging me f-“
“Edging.” He cuts off with a little snort and a smile. He’s so unserious it’s insane.
“Stop.”
“Sorry.”
You look up at him and lean up, pressing your soft lips against his. Slowly his slips his tongue into your mouth as his hands continue to touch, rub and caress you. He’s being soft today.
But the way he’s fiddling with the zipper of his jeans is not soft nor slow. Of course it gets stuck, and he’s just there trying to rip it open. Trying to unjam it with some huffs and puffs.
While he’s doing that you’re pulling down your panties, the fold air against your core making you flinch a bit. Before you lay back down and he lays back on top of you.
“Are you sure?” He asks as he looks at you. This isn’t the first time you’ve done it without protection but every time he checks. Make sure you’re certain.
“Yes.” You say with a nod of your head. You just can’t wait any longer.
Slowly JJ enters your cunt, your tight walls sucking him in as you let at a moan. JJ jokes about his size to everyone. Saying how big he is. But they weren’t jokes.
“Fuck mama. So tight.” He says before placing a kiss on your neck. His thrusts picking up. His hand coming to your neck, not to choke you. But to make it easier to pick up his speed. “Such a good girl.”
Your walls clench around him as your eyes screw shut. Whimpers filling the space of your bedroom.
“Please don’t stop.” You breathe out as you instinctively grab onto the duvet, knuckles turning white as you look at him. His stupid face smirking down at you before reattaching to your neck.
His face practically lives there now. Hes always kissing and sucking on your neck.
JJ’s free hand slips between your legs and starts rubbing. Rubbing that sensitive bud of yours. His cock twitching inside your pussy.
It doesn’t take long for both you and JJ to cum. His thrust slowing down as he looks at you.
Both of you panting before the blonde just has to open his stupid mouth.
“That was so skibidi.”
“Oh my god.”
You can’t believe it.
‘This can’t be real.’ You think to yourself as you look at those two lines. The two lines that can either be a blessing or a curse.
You don’t know how long you’ve been sat on the bath mat of your bathroom. I mean you can’t have a baby. Can you? You’re only eighteen living at your parents house dating a guy who only recently learnt the difference between there, their and they’re.
You can’t be parents.
You just can’t.
“Baby I’m here to hang.” The sound interrupts your thoughts. the very guy you were just thinking about. Knocking a tune on your bathroom door.
You sniff and dry your eyes, trying to get rid of any sign that you were crying.
But JJ heard everything.
“Hey, yn? You okay?” His concern is evident in his tone. He cares about you more than you’d ever know.
The bathroom door slowly opens and your eyes meet the blondes. Slowly making his way to you, crouching down and placing his hands on your knees. You’re silent. You can’t speak. Don’t know what to say if you were to open your mouth.
So you just hold the test.
JJ’s eyes follow your gaze to the test. His breath catching in the back of his throat.
You want to know how he feels, is he angry? Upset? Disappointed?
Actually he’s none of them.
“I’m going to be a dad?” He says excitedly. Immediately you look at him. Shocked by this response. He’s happy?
“Yeah.” You say quietly.
“I’m going to be a dad!” He says louder and takes off his hat before standing up. Pacing the bathroom and smiling. Yapping about all the things he’s going to do. How excited he is to have a child.
You should’ve never been worried. You’re going to be parents.
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scorpieuns · 3 months ago
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KISS ME MORE | PARK SUNGHOON
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summary: freshman year is just around the corner, and you still haven’t had your first kiss, so who better to ask for help than your best friend?
word count: 3.2k
MINORS DNI!!
warnings (18+): smut. fluff (just a smidge). kissing. swearing. oral (f. receiving). fingering (f. recieving).
A/N: this was literally just an excuse to write the ‘teach me’ trope im currently obsessed with lmfao. decided to return with another short fic while a longer one is currently in the works!
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Your saturday was lazily drawing to a close, the amber light of the late afternoon bathing your room in a rich, golden hue as it filtered through the sheer curtains. Sunbeams danced across the floor, casting long, dappled shadows that shifted gently in time with the breeze from your fan, its low hum blending with the quiet outside. The heat of the day still lingered, but your room felt cool—a refuge from the summer heat beyond the window.
You and Sunghoon spent another day in the slow, unhurried rhythm of summer break. You had wandered through quaint little shops in town, indulging in some ice cream from your favourite parlour—before ending the day by hanging back at your place.
Soft, flickering light from the television illuminated the room, casting faint shadows over the cozy disarray of blankets and pillows on your bed.
The movie playing was one of your favourites—a classic romance that you knew almost every line to. Your gaze was fixed on the screen, eyes wide and captivated, but Sunghoon seemed content to only half-watch. His attention was mostly absorbed in a book he had got from one the thrift shops you’d visited a while ago, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he read quietly.
Sunghoon lay sprawled beside you, completely at ease, the quiet shuffling of his turning pages blending in with the murmur of the movie’s dialogue as the two of you comfortably sat in silence.
Every now and then, Sunghoon would glance up from his book, watching you for a moment with a fond, almost amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He silently chuckled at how deeply you were invested in the story, even though he knew you had seen it more times than you could count.
As the movie played on, the flickering shots of the couple lost in passionate kisses filled the screen, but your mind was elsewhere. Each romantic scene tugged at a part of you, stirring feelings of uncertainty that you tried to brush away.
The effortless intimacy the characters exchanged seemed so foreign and so far removed from your own experiences. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you shifted slightly on the bed, that weird feeling in your chest only returning.
Fall was approaching, and the thought of starting college without ever having kissed had been gnawing at you. You were always the one admired from a distance—some guys flirted but that was all they did. The real experiences, the ones you saw in movies and tv shows still remained an elusive mystery.
It felt like you were missing some crucial part of your youth, something that was supposed to happen naturally, yet it hadn’t.
In the locker room, when your friends would share their stories about their latest flings or kisses, you’d smile, laugh along, but inside you’d cringe, hoping no one asked about your own love life. It was your secret, the thing that made you feel out of place despite how perfect you seemed to everyone else.
Then, there was Sunghoon.
You glanced at him, your best friend, lying beside you with a cute focused expression etched into his features. He didn’t talk much about his romantic escapades, but you’d heard enough to know he wasn’t inexperienced.
Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of faint hickeys on his neck or the way girls would glance at him. It left you with a strange feeling, one you couldn’t quite name…was it jealousy? Insecurity? Maybe both. You felt your face heat up, embarrassed by how much it bothered you.
As another kiss scene plays out on the screen, your gaze flickers back to the couple. You bit your lip, the pang of longing growing sharper. What did it feel like? To be kissed—or to have someone look at you like you were their whole world, if only for a second?
The thought of entering college without knowing something so simple yet so intimate made you feel…painfully awkward.
You tried to focus on the movie, but the thoughts kept circling back, louder and louder. The movie no longer held your interest, and the weight of your unspoken feelings became too much.
Unable to shake the feeling, you sat up as your mind ran on impulsivity. The movie played on, but you no longer cared about the plot or the characters. All you could think about was the current problem you had and the one person who would listen to you.
You shifted on the bed, turning to him. “Sunghoon." you murmured, your voice softer than usual.
He responded with a low, distracted hum, barely lifting his gaze. One hand rested on his chin, finger grazing his bottom lip in a way that drew attention to the curve of his mouth, while his eyes flicked over the pages with slow, deliberate focus.
"How does…kissing feel?"
That got his attention. Sunghoon’s eyes snapped up from the book, the words clearly catching him off guard. He pushed his glasses up with one hand, studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “What are you on about now?”
You cringed at how juvenile your question sounded now, already hesitating, “I…” your face flushed with a mix of embarrassment, “I haven’t…kissed anyone before. And with college coming up, I just feel…I don’t know…insecure.”
Sunghoon’s brow furrowed in genuine confusion. “Wait, you’ve never kissed anyone?”
You rolled your eyes, “Okay, Mr. Midfielder. I’m not like you, alright? It’s not like I’ve had tons of people drooling over me.”
A soft laugh escaped him as he sat up, expression softening. “No (Y/N), it’s just hard to believe.” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re… like, insanely pretty.”
Sunghoon’s words sent a little flutter in your stomach—but you brushed it off, chalking it up to him just being nice.
“Of course, you would say that,” you muttered, playfully shoving his shoulder.
“I’m serious,” Sunghoon insisted lightly, catching your wrist, gently lowering your hand. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away.
There was something in the way he looked at you making your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. You tore your gaze away, suddenly feeling exposed under the weight of his attention. “This is stupid,” you mumbled with a wry laugh, already regretting bringing it up.
But Sunghoon wasn’t letting it go. He muttered your name softly, his voice coaxing you to meet his eyes again. He reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up until your gaze locked with his once more.
His touch was soft, barely there, but it made your cheeks warm. “It’s not stupid,” he murmured, his eyes searching for yours. “It’s okay to be new to things. Everyone is at some point.”
“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, staring at the comforter as if the intricate embroidery held the answers to everything swirling in your head.
Sunghoon watched you intently, his heart aching at the sight of your lips forming a soft pout and your expression so full of uncertainty. How was it possible that you had never been kissed?
He couldn't understand it, and yet, the thought of you being with someone else, experiencing that first kiss with someone who didn’t know you like he did—it twisted something in his chest.
Sunghoon would kiss you in a heartbeat if given the chance, but after ages of trying to ignore his feelings—of pushing aside how much he actually wanted you, he wasn’t sure he could handle it without letting everything else spill out.
His hand was still holding yours, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over your skin, and for a moment, the touch seemed to blur the lines of just simple camaraderie. The warmth of it messed with your thoughts, and before you could second-guess yourself, the words tumbled out.
“Well, you’ve done it before, right? You could, I don’t know… teach me.”
“What?” Sunghoon froze, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes wide with surprise. His voice dropped an octave,“you’re asking me to… kiss you?”
You nodded, scooting just a little closer, close enough to feel the faint warmth of his body against yours. “Come on, Hoon. We’re best friends. It’s not like it would… mean anything.”
Even as you said it, you couldn’t really believe the words yourself. There was an undercurrent, a dull gut feeling, that told you it wouldn’t feel like practice.
To you, maybe. The thought tore through Sunghoon’s mind.
He ran a hand through his hair, messing up his bangs as he tried to think. For the first time in a long while, he seemed genuinely flustered, “I don’t know, (Y/N).”
His voice was thick as he swallowed, cheeks slowly turning pink. “That’s not exactly something you just… teach.”
“It’s just a kiss. I just wanna know what I’m doing when I eventually have to kiss someone for real.”
Sunghoon’s gaze flickered, his eyes betraying more than he wanted to show. For a split second, his eyes darted to your glossed lips, his breath hitching as he quickly looked away.
He pushed his glasses up again, licking his lips as he huffed. “This is a bad idea,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.
“Why?” You asked, the plea in your voice betraying your own feelings. “It’s just one kiss, Hoon.”
Right?
You tried to keep it light, casual, like it didn’t matter. Like it was just a small favour between friends. But inside, your heart hammered against your chest, your skin felt flushed, and the air between you both had clearly shifted.
The way Sunghoon was looking at you now, though, like he was really considering it—like he was seeing you in a way he’d never let himself see before—it was almost too much.
“Are you… sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loud would shatter the moment.
Your fingers brushed against his knee, lingering for just a second longer, “I mean, it would just be practice.” You stated, but underneath it all, your heart skipped a beat, a buzz coursing through your veins as you looked back at him.
Sunghoon’s resolve crumbled at the feeling of your hand on his knee. How could he say no to you when you looked at him like that—those wide, pleading eyes making it impossible to refuse?
He swallowed hard, his breath shaky. “Just… a practice thing,” he muttered, his eyes flickering between your gaze and your lips, fighting the gravitational pull on them.
“Yeah,” You muttered quietly, reaching up to remove the wire rimmed glasses from his face and placing them on your bedside table before glancing back at him.
Sunghoon’s hand moved up, threading through your hair before gently brushing it away from your face, his touch slow, deliberate.
His thumb traced the edge of your cheek, pausing to brush against your bottom lip in a way that sent a shiver through you. The touch was soft, almost hesitant, but it ignited something deep inside you, making your breath hitch.
Your stomach fluttered as you met his intense gaze, his dark eyes trained on your lips. He leaned in closer, close enough that you could feel his breath fanning lightly over your skin, teasing, heightening the anticipation.
Sunghoon’s lips hovered over yours, just barely ghosting against them, brushing so softly that it made you ache for more.
Unable to resist the pull any longer, you closed the distance, pressing your lips gently against his. The kiss started soft, tentative, your body hyper-aware of every detail—the warmth of his breath, the way his lips responded immediately, moulding into yours with an eagerness that surprised you.
Oh.
You pulled away for the briefest moment, eyes flickering down to his lips, your heart pounding through your ears. Without a second thought, you leaned in again, this time a lot bolder, your hand finding the side of his face.
Sunghoon didn’t hesitate. He kissed back within a heartbeat, a soft sigh escaping his lips that sent a rush of warmth to the pit of your stomach. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you against his chest, the space between you vanishing as your bodies pressed together.
Your fingers slipped into his hair, the soft strands curling around your fingertips as you tugged on them softly, his soft groans between kisses making your pulse race.
Sunghoon’s lips were firmer this time, more needier with every kiss, sending a rush of heat through your body as his grip on your waist tightened.
You softly fell back into the bed as he hovered over you, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before you parted your lips a little more, a low groan rumbling through his chest as he licked into your mouth.
Your hands slowly drifted down Sunghoon’s body, slipping beneath the thin fabric of his shirt to trace the contours of his torso, his breathy moans travelling straight to your core.
“Fuck.” He rasped, pulling away, “maybe we should stop.” Sunghoon’s eyes were glazed over, lips were swollen and tainted with your lip gloss, “I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself (Y/N).”
“Then don’t.” You rushed, breathless and wasting no time kissing him again, an unmistakable moan leaving Sunghoon’s chest as he kissed back desperately.
He pulled away—already missing the feeling of his lips on yours before they moved to your jaw, trailing soft sloppy kisses that travelled down to your neck, the feathery feeling creating a dull ache between your thighs.
Your sighs of pleasure almost bordered on moans as he gently sucked your delicate skin—pink and purple marks blooming on your skin, recklessly marking you from your neck to your collarbone.
Sunghoon’s hand drifted over the small of your back, sliding over to find their place on your ass squeezing the soft flesh with a lewd groan—an involuntary moan slipping past your lips at the feeling, tugging his hair.
Everything had your mind spiralling. Sunghoon’s lips were on your neck, his hand roaming every inch of your body.
You’d be lying if you said you didn't want more—craved more.
He trailed wet kisses along your chest, lifting your shirt to press a few more along your stomach, revelling in the way you leaned into his touch, your soft whines and sighs driving him up the wall.
You admired the way Sunghoon looked when he glanced up at you with his eyes, weaving your fingers through his already dishevelled hair, moving to his face and caressing his rosy cheeks.
Sunghoon’s fingers finally met the waistband of your shorts, lifting your hips up as quickly pulling the layer of clothing away, “fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He hissed, running his hands up and down your thighs.
His other hand brushed over your underwear, groaning at the sight. His finger traced over your wetness on the silky fabric, and you leaned into his touch, with the most beautiful moan he’d ever heard.
“Fuck baby, you’re so wet.” Sunghoon groans as his thumb taps at your clothed clit, clenching around nothing at the mention of the pet name he’d just given you.
He kissed your thigh, hooking his finger into your underwear and sliding the damp pink fabric down your legs, almost moaning at the sight of your dripping cunt.
Sunghoon lifts your leg and holds it over his shoulder, swiping his tongue over his thumb before meeting your clit and your head falls back, “Hoon, fuck.” You moaned, grabbing at your sheets.
“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Sunghoon says softly, and you nod—watching him dip below your thighs, lips move to your clit and sucking on it gently.
You never fathomed anything would feel this good. Sure, you’d touched yourself a couple of times, but nothing could beat the feeling being eaten out.
You cry, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his tongue dipping into your folds, letting his thumb swirl around your bundle of nerves while his tongue enters your core, moaning into your entrance.
The vibrations from his moans sent shockwaves up your spine, head tipping back in from the sensation with a broken cry, legs attempting to fly shut but he pushed them apart with a sound of disapproval.
His tongue swiped upwards, and his eyes fluttered closed at the taste of your arousal, reveling in the insanely beautiful moans that tumbled from your lips.
Your hands weaved into his hair, tugging the soft strands as you shamelessly bucked into his mouth with broken whimpers.
Sunghooon held you firmly against the sheets to stop you from squirming, unable to stay still from the feeling of his nose causing friction on your clit as he lapped at your pussy.
Your eyes peer over at him and the pornographic sight of him buried between your thighs makes your cheeks burn. When his hand moves from your thigh you don't think much of it, until you feel his fingers circle your entrance.
Sunghoon pulls away from you, just in time to watch your plump lips fall open when he easily slides his fingers into your dripping core.
“You have know idea how good you look baby.” He panted, plump lips covered in your arousal biting his lip at sight in front him, completely enamored by your fucked out expressions.
Sunghoon’s fingers curl inside of you and they brush over your sweet spot, your mouth opening in a broken moan.
“F-feels so good, Hoon” you mewl breathlessly, grabbing his free arm as you bucked into his fingers, pumping them into you at a perfect speed.
You cheeks flushed furiously at the sounds of his fingers fucking your sopping wet core, broken raspy moans leaving your chest as his lips pressed kisses to your overstimulated clit—your mind a scrambled mess.
All you could think about was the pleasure that was currently surging throughout your entire body, making your toes curl and your head dizzy. A few whines and broken moans was enough to tell Sunghoon you were close, furiously clenching around his fingers as you begged him not to stop.
“That’s it baby, come for me.” He coaxed, his voice raspy and breathy, moaning at the sight of his fingers easily slipping in and out of you.
Your body jerked forward and your hand flew to his arm, blunt nails digging into his skin as you let out a whimper, back arching as his name tumbled past your lips in high pitched moans.
You were almost embarrassed by how fast Sunghoon made you come, mind clouded and hazy as he continued pumping his fingers, your walls clenching around his digits as he fucked out your high.
He pulled away shortly after, fingers slipping out of your entrance and placing a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.
You watched the messy haired brunette suck his fingers into his mouth, eyes closed and moaning at the taste of you—before you leaned over, softly grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him to your mouth for a kiss, lightly tasting yourself on his tongue.
"So we both agree that this wasn't just practice, right?" He mutters against your lips and you laugh, still dazed and high from the aftermath of your orgasm.
"Yeah, I don't think I wanna do this with anyone else. You're my only option, Park." His smile grows and he pecks your lips again.
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hoshigray · 7 months ago
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love love LOVEE your toji/sukuna fics, mean big guys have me in a chokehold, but even more so if there’s aftercare right after destroying u , I’d like to see how you write that! No pressure, just a suggestion lol
𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: no but you're so valid, idk why i keep forgetting about after care, ughhh!! ty for loving my tojikuna stuff <3
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna + Toji x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference - monster-fucking (kuna got 2 dicks) - double penetration; anal and vaginal - cowgirl dp position - breast fondling + nipple play + sucking - biting/nibbling - dacryphillia - unprotected sex - aftercare; taking a warm bath together + tending wounds - pet names (baby, [little] dove, pet, princess, sweet thing) - tojikuna being snarky partners; good luck, lmao - mention of blood, drool/spit and tears.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k
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“Ahaaahhn! T-Tojii, t-too fast, going too fas—Shhaaa!!”
“Heh, y’re complainin’, but y’re the one squeezin’ my dick like crazy.”
“Hmph, right, like some dirty whore…Shit, ass’s so tight…”
You were the partner of both Tōji Fushiguro and Sukuna Ryōmen—a fact that many would be astonished to know and for you to go dizzy thinking about.
How does one lure in the deadly, cursed being proclaimed the King of Curses and a cold-blooded assassin dubbed the Sorcerer Killer? You couldn’t even think of a quick answer to such a question. What you do know is that being a spouse of the terrifying two in this polyamorous relationship was the definition of intense. And that would go for tonight as well.
Being bent and forced to be taken advantage of by your two lovers was nothing out of the ordinary. If anything, it’s almost a daily occurrence when either of them comes and pulls you aside to appease themselves. Nonetheless, what else was a little cute wife like you supposed to do: sit there and look pretty? Not tonight, at least.
You were all confined in your shared quarters, all three bodies atop the futons pulled to the tatami flooring—three bodies stripped from their discarded attire, now nude and meshed together in hot and wanton passion.
Toji was beneath you, yet that didn’t diminish his control over you. You may be straddling him and moving your hips to take in his erect cock into your aching cunt. However, his hands are stationed firmly on your waist, influential to your pace as he bucks into your wetness stuffed on excessive come. The fast ruts make it grueling to find the rhythm—but that’s what the dark-haired man wants, to see you all desperate and wailing from up above. “How ya feelin’, sweet thing?” 
As if you had any room to speak, so winded that wails were the only words you could say. 
“Oi, pet, answer when you’re being talked to.”
And the voice behind you doesn’t make this scene any better.
From your backside, Sukuna’s massive frame hovered over you and Toji’s, his gigantic frame easily dwarfing you both. His lower arms hold you down by the calves, and his upper left keeps him upright from easily squishing his partners. And the upper right crawls up to your throat, suffocating your airways lightly with just his thumb and forefinger.
As the other has you from below, the gigantic cursed man deals with you from above. His lower member is plunged into your rear hole, stretching you to the point of tears with his hefty girth while the other rubs on the crevice of your ass with every push of his hips. The hands on your legs come up to your waist, brushing Toji’s, who moves his to your chest.
His guttural purrs send shivers up to your ears, and the tongue of his stomach probes you with a lick on your sweaty back. “We need words, or else you’ll be crushed without knowing, little dove.”
Because that is what you were: their little wife tending to them as a spouse would. 
You swallow spit before the grip on your throat gets any tighter. “I–I…Feel sho goood…!” You twitch when the behemoth licks and nibbles on your ear so dangerously as if he’s tempted to eat you—he just might be. “—Mmmhh! S-Shoo fuull..”
Toji notices and snickers, “Yeah, baby?” His hands on your breasts are rough, making you whimper. “Doin’ good so far,” he tweezes a nipple, earning a sharp yelp to leave your puffy lips. “Hehm, so adorable, mama…” you cry even more when he pops the other nipple into his mouth; the feel of his tongue on your bud had you hot. 
“—Hnnm!! Fucking hell, this ass…!” Sukuna’s groans are felt, the vibrations rattling your bones. “Keep grippin’ me like that, princess..” He adds more weight and has you howling like no tomorrow. The nails of his fingers leave dents that you’re sure to see later on—just more to add onto the collection harboring all over your skin – bites and marks galore. 
Your eyebrows screw together, drool escaping your agape lips. The laps around your nipple become feverish along with Toji’s thrusts, and Sukuna pistoning his cock so harshly; it makes you wobble, yet you maintain your balance for the older man beneath you to keep sucking and playing with your chest. 
“—Taahh, uhhgg, sh-shiiit,” your hands grip the sheets as your eyes roll to the top–a sign that you were to fall into your release in mere seconds from the constant rubs of your sensitive spots.
Clamping onto their shafts, you shriek during the impending climax, the walls of your holes puckering and contracting around the limbs that graze your sensitive nerves. You finally give in and fumble atop Toji, luckily catching your expected reaction with a smirk. “Fuck, feel so good and tight,” he kisses your cheek and chortles when your arms sling around his neck. “Stay still, baby; let us finish here.”
The two men still undulate their hips, their dicks ravaging your insides even when you’re stuck in your crescendo. You nearly choke on your spit, wailing as you’re forced to submit to their frantic bucks, and the sounds of them moaning and groaning only fuel your ears to clench them even tighter. It has both men hiss and tighten their hold on you, Toji burrowing his face to bite your shoulder while Sukuna’s fangs dig into the other. And you can tell blood was drawn as the giant licks the inflicted marking.
At your scream, they simultaneously bust their loads into your trembling frame, stuffing you with more of their essence in your cunt and asshole. And Sukuna’s upper cock dispels its semen out to paint your back. The sensation of their lengths pulsating inside you has you quiver, hiccupping when they sneak in short yet fierce pounds into your sore holes until their sweaty frames succumb to tranquility. Then, they remove their limbs with a blissful groan to your sob, come sliding and dripping down to your thighs. 
Finally, you sigh into Toji’s chest as he kisses your forehead and kneads your ass lovingly. I can finally rest now…
However, you squeak when your body is pulled upward so quickly, and you’re now being held by Sukuna, who straightens up and stands up. He scoffs, “Relax, dove.” The hand under your legs squeezes the flesh of your thigh. 
Leaving Toji to the futon, the cursed ancient man thunderously strides out to the room two rooms down from the shared room. He slides the shoji door open after the changing room, and you’re instantly met with a wave of humid air from the bathing area. Ripples from the humongous stone bath become more evident as Sukuna closes in, and the water climbs when he gets inside with his massive volume.
He sits, the water sitting above the mouth of his abdomen. He has you sitting on his lap, yet his lower arms still hold you close to his chest. With the upper left, he brings the wooden bucket the servants left behind to scoop with water and pours it gently above your head. 
Your hands wipe the water from your face, but a washcloth and a colossal hand wipe it down for you. “Y-You know, I can clean myself,” you inquire with a scrunched expression as Sukuna wipes your cheeks a little too rough. 
“With your shaky legs, I’d be amazed if you’d even make three steps out of the room.” You pout at his tease, and it only has him want to poke fun at you more. “Like a baby deer trying to walk.”
You snatch the washcloth with a heated face. “Quit it!” Humiliated, you sigh and raise your left arm to dap on the markings decorated on your skin. However, he takes it away from you, his lower left gently grabbing your arm for the lower right to compress the damp cloth on your sore markings. 
“Let me.” He wasn’t asking, leaving you no space to interject his company. He pulls an ointment from the other wooden basket into the washcloth; the lavender scent pleases your nostrils while the minty sensation cleanses your skin. “Sit back,” he orders you, and you allow your back to rest on his torso, watching the man tend to the wounds he and his partner inflicted on you. It almost puts you to sleep, sighing pleasingly and relaxing to the monster’s touch. 
Speaking of, “Wow, so ya leave me at the room to clean up after you two, huh?” Toji enters the bathing space, joining you and Sukuna in the warm water. “What am I, y’r maid?”
“You seem to have walked here on your own just fine.” Sukuna bends to place a kiss on top of your head while the raven-haired other approaches closer. “You have no room to complain, Fushiguro.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you observe Toji come to you between Sukuna’s legs. “Hey, mama, feel better?” You nod to him meekly while he cups your cheeks with one hand. He then brings you to a soft kiss, mewling to his lips while his wet thumb brushes your cheek. “Mmm, so cute…Stand up fr’ me.”
He takes the wet cloth from Sukuna’s grasp while you slowly rise. He helps you turn around to have your back to him, your hands clinging onto Sukuna’s thighs while the giant gives the human male a cream to place on the rag. Toji then rubs circles on the red crescents of your waist–dents marked from Sukuna’s nails–and you jerk and hiss at the contact. 
“I know, sweetie, I know,” he coaxes you with whispers to the ear and a kiss on your shoulder. “Blame ‘Kuna for doin’ a number on ya.”
“Keh, I know you’re not talking,” the salmon-haired one sniggers as he grabs another dry cloth to wipe your collarbone. “I can count with three hands how many of these hickeys aren’t mine.” 
The other barks a laugh. “Now I know y’r ass is lyin’.” The two men humor themselves on the trauma they just put you and your tiny body through, and you can only shake your head at their insufferableness. Yet, at the very least, they’re taking their roles as your lovers to take care of your body. Not so bad, isn’t it?
Especially when the bathing is over, and you’re all clean from the event that transpired an hour ago, sleep stops evading you, and you return to the shared room ready for slumber. To end the night, the candles are blown out, you’re adorning your yukata robe for your soft skin, and Toji and Sukuna wait for you on the futon to conclude this session. 
Toji has you to his right, arm around your figure to keep you close to his warmth. This gives you the view of his easeful sleeping face; the moonlight from the opened shoji window panels makes it easy to trace his handsome features and the deft scar on his lips. To his left was Sukuna, his tremendous size unavoidable, and his strength still evident as his upper arm cages you and the other older man in proximity. The pink-haired beast purrs at the rub of Toji’s hand on his nape and hair, and you giggle at the display—like a giant cat.
Seeing the Sorcerer Killer and the King of Curses act so leisurely around someone is inconceivable; not many live to see such a picture when met with their brute force and killing instincts. And yet, you suppose that makes you more valuable than anyone, their sole and precious partner.
And as you bury your face and let the blanket of sleep take over, you rest for yet another night, knowing you’re in the best care you could ask for.
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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joonie-beanie · 5 months ago
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Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]
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Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol
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“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”
“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”
You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…
“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”
By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.
Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.
“Well, have you tried getting off?”
Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.
“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”
You sigh. 
You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.
“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.
“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”
“Oh?” 
Now that piques their interest. 
“What’s their name?”
“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”
“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.
“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”
“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.
“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”
You raise your eyebrows in surprise.
“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”
“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.
“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”
“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.
“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.
A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.
“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”
Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.
“Look—”
She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.
“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”
She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her. 
When she has finished reading, she grins.
“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.”
“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”
Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.
“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”
“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.
“She deserves a little…fun.”
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Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend. 
4 days, to be exact. 
Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job. 
It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…
You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…
All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.
…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:
Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]
Immediately, you freeze.
Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.
Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.
Dear Recipient,
Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.
Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.
If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.
Have fun.
-Hat Guy
Note:
Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand
…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.
Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…
Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?
With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.
You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…
You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file. 
There’s just no way…
Hesitantly, you click on it.
“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”
Oh…fuck. 
Something in your tummy flips.
That’s him, alright.
You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.
Guided Masturbation.
If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.
Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.
Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—
You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.
“Nope, I can’t—I—”
Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.
It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.
You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.
Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)
Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.
You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.
Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.
You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.
Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?
Taking a deep breath, you hit play.
The track restarts from the beginning. 
“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”
“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”
You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen. 
Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.
“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”
Dammit, why is he right—
“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”
With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.
You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet. 
You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.
So, guess that means you’re doing this.
Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again. 
“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”
You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.
“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”
You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest. 
You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers. 
“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”
For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak. 
You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…
“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”
Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them. 
Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.
It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…
By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.
“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”
The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—
“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”
Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.
As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.
“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”
Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.
In this position, you know that you’re on full display.
“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”
Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—
“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.” 
“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”
That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.
You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.
Anyway—
Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.
“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”
Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—
You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel. 
You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.
“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”
You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.
As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.
“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”
How does he fucking know—?!
“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”
Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace. 
With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.
“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”
Huffing, you obey his command,
He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself. 
By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.
“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”
You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…
The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace. 
A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.
You want to cum. 
“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”
Oh, fuck…
You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.
And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.
“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”
“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”
Dammit—
By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.
You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—
“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”
If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.
But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.
“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59…58…57—”
With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his. 
His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.
You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty. 
You’re getting close. 
“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”
Motherfucker—
You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.
Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!
“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”
Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.
You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.
“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”
“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”
You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it. 
By now, you’re sure you can do without.
Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.
“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”
You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.
“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”
Oh. That’s—
“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”
It will.
“Ready?”
You take a trembling breath.
“3, 2, 1—!”
In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.
When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.
“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”
Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.
Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.
How cute.
“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”
To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.
Up…and down…
Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.
At least, not immediately.
If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.
Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.
“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”
If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—
“Fuck…”
Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.
Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.
“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”
You can practically hear the grin in his words. 
Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.
Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.
“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”
Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—
“60…59…58…”
Dammit—
With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.
Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.
“33…32…31…”
A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.
You want to cum.
You want to cum.
You want to cum, but—
You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.
You need more time.
As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.
“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”
“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”
Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you. 
It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.
Your pussy mourns the loss.
Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.
“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”
You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.
There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?
“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”
You wet your lips with your tongue.
“...thank you.”
There’s a brief second of silence, and then—
“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”
You want to punch him—
“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”
The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.
Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.
“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”
You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.
“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving. 
You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.
After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.
Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—
You tear the vibrator away from your clit.
If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.
You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.
Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.
You’re gonna have to edge again—
“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”
“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”
If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.
“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”
“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”
Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—
You press the vibrator harder against your clit. 
You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.
Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.
Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.
Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.
Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.
You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again. 
“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”
You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.
“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”
It’s fine…it’s totally fine. 
Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.
You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.
Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.
You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.
And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.
“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”
“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”
You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.
It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—
“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”
Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.
You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.
“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”
You wish you could kick him.
“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”
“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”
You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago. 
As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.
A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.
“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”
You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.
Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo. 
Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.
The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.
“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”
You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.
Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.
“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”
If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—
“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”
Oh, fuck. 
You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.
“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”
Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.
You’re trying. Everything feels so hot. 
The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.
“Cum.”
A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.
With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last. 
Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.
Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.
When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.
Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.
You take a deep breath. 
Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.
“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”
Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.
“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”
“Later~”
The audio ends.
You lay there, staring at the ceiling.
Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.
Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.
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The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift”.
Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.
First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.
Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.
With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.
When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.
Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.
Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—
“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”
Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.
As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him. 
Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—
“Do you need something?”
Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.
Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.
He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.
“What? Cat got your tongue?”
This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—
Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.
“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”
…what.
Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.
“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”
“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.
He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—
“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”
Your pussy clenches.
Mhmm, yep! 
You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.
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