#idk i would have liked to sit on something that big for longer

[wizardyuri]

Heavenly delusion<3 I like it!

Manga spoilers and cw for SA

I'm kind of torn on how they handled the whole, Robin situation? I think if we got a little more of Kiruko's thoughts on it afterwards I'd be more, comfortable with it. The difference in character after the event is really noticeable and I really appreciate the ways that they show how his identity has been changed by his assault but I just think that it's kind of? A little too subtle for something that big

[chelseeebe]

just a taste

18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.

a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here. 

“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?” 

“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking. 

“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.” 

“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.

“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.

this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

“now?” 

she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.” 

eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.” 

“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched. 

she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room. 

he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it. 

-

eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message. 

“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something. 

he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much. 

you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave. 

two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now. 

not if you were sleeping in his bed. 

it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it. 

“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done. 

who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly. 

“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process. 

“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips. 

“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.” 

his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze. 

'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation. 

-

when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie. 

eddie usually hated movie nights in the house. 

jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre. 

leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered. 

tonight it’s different, you get to pick. 

and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it. 

you land on edward scissorhands. 

not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble. 

in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.

at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath. 

he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.

robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way. 

“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary. 

you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on. 

he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you. 

unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone. 

-

living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive. 

it’s torturous. 

testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding. 

so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.

of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night. 

his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know. 

though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land. 

now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act. 

eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core. 

good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour. 

tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case. 

gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him. 

reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief. 

oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.

“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips. 

eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red. 

“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears. 

your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt. 

you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand. 

“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?” 

eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was. 

“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up. 

“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?” 

there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off. 

“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away. 

you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek. 

eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window. 

“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?” 

he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started. 

“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out. 

you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please. 

-

at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him. 

you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article. 

“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,” 

he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making. 

“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did. 

“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across. 

if only she knew. 

eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.  

he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria. 

cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now. 

everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties. 

-

eddie can’t take it anymore. 

he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer. 

but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure. 

the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport. 

he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women. 

your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand. 

“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down. 

robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful. 

thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose 

he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones. 

how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?

“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much. 

“you want some help with that?” 

eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion. 

it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs. 

“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager. 

he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame. 

your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?

this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric. 

eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.

the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house. 

the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin. 

when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking. 

your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears. 

no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was. 

“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch. 

his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere. 

you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house. 

eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute. 

it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life. 

“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.

you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable

“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.

"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.

“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.

“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.

“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.  

“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.

[moonyflesh]

dating Logan Howlett would include…

WARNINGS: smutty. p in v, oral sex, fingering, breeding kink, orgasm teasing/control, mentions of aggressive/risky sex, (language, obviously), etc. - [🔞]

CHARACTERS: James “Logan” Howlett (MARVEL/X-MEN/WOLVERINE)

🐾 .*.. 🩹

- possessive smacks on the ass when you pass him in the hall.

- all talk, but no bite (he would never actually hurt you).

- routine scalp massages (on both ends), usually ending in you both being passed out on the other’s bed.

- having to label what food is yours, or he will eat it.

- constantly scolding him for his chapped lips…where he continuously looses the chapsticks you graciously lend him (he always buys you more).

- playful banter that usually ends with you bent over whatever flat surface is nearby.

- having to get used to loud chewing. i mean, it’s Logan. what do you expect?

- not much physical show of affection in public- that’s reserved for behind closed doors. (an occasional press of his lips to your forehead, or his hand on the small of your back is as far as he’s willing to put on display for the student’s prying eyes).

- thriving off of each other’s warmth at night- tangled up in each other under some thin duvet.

- country, bluegrass, and old as fuck music. don’t you dare even think about turning on “that shitty music you like so much” around him.

- being turned on by your makeup on him in some way— lipstick prints smeared along the collar of his white t-shirt- your mascara running down your face and smearing onto his fingers when he wipes it off.

- (^) just you making an absolute mess on him in general. he fucking loves it.

- needing to take sharp intakes of breath in between his kisses, since he physically can hold his breath for much longer than the “average mutant”.

- rough, meaningful sex. there is no such thing as a ‘quickie’ in his book. he wants to savor your moments of vulnerability.

- more teeth than tongue. he wants to feel how you squirm under him when his canines sink into your lips, shoulders, and inner thighs.

- (^) lovebites and hickeys. you’re not allowed to leave the house unless there’s something that’s marking you as taken. as his.

- wearing his clothes when he’s gone for long periods of time.

- long motorcycle rides, usually at night. (he makes you wear a helmet and plenty of protective leather, much to his enjoyment).

- soaking in your scent. he always knows when your needy. he can smell it on you.

- oh, and he smells like cedar wood and pine. Maybe a bit of cigar smoke- his natural sweat smell he can’t seem to get rid of? Something Iike that.

- (^) him going absolutely feral when he can smell himself on you- his cologne, cigars- just his general aura on you is such a massive turn on for him.

- lots of loving nips and kisses, though. constantly has his lips pressed against the nape of your neck or crown of your skull.

- sleeps with you in his arms. no way in hell you’re allowed to wake up before him.

- face sitting. he wants every pound of you on his mouth and nose, his arms wrapped up and around your thighs, pushing your cunt into his tongue.

- wanting to feel good too. no matter how hard he’s been going down on you, he wants release, too.

- praise. lots of shrewd language and name-calling.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

“fuck, that’s my good fucking girl- you’re doing so good, sweetheart- so pretty all sweaty and wet cuzzah’ me, huh?”

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

- face fucking. he’ll stop no matter how close he is to his peak if you need him to, but he wants it so far down your throat. and you better swallow every last drop.

- breeding kink? idk i just feel like he’s super into seeing you carry his kid (only when you’re ready, though. he of all people knows what a big deal pregnancy is).

- decent aftercare. he at least puts some amount of effort into it; probably brings you a glass of lukewarm water, a damp towel from his bathroom, maybe one of his t-shirts if he thinks of it.

- expect to wait a while for him to say “i love you” back. he’s been hurt. too many times. he loves you, he breathes you, he craves you. he just doesn’t know if he’s ready to actually admit that to himself yet, let alone to you.

[httpiastri]

NSFW alphabet – op81

author's note: hello again, rushed to finish this after quali today. mclaren second row lockout heck yes !!! anyways idk what i think about this one, first time posting something abt oscar in many months?? hope u enjoy tho :)

nsfw content below !! minors dni !!!

a – aftercare (what he is like after sex)

oscar is the biggest sweetheart after sex (when isn't he, though?). so so so gentle and caring for your every need. he'll be forcing you to drink some water, making sure you're cleaned up properly, helping you out with soothing lotions if your skin is sore.

lots of lots of kisses! forehead, nose, cheek, temple kisses, and especially little pecks on your lips. he loves having you rest on his chest after it all, fingers brushing along your skin or tangling in your hair. and there will be so many praises, "you did so well" and "you felt so good" and "you look gorgeous right now, did you know?"…

b – body part (his favorite body part of his and also his partner's body)

oscar has a thing for collarbones. they're like a magnet to his lips; his lips are automatically drawn to them. he loves to brush his thumb along them, seeing you shiver when he places fleeting kisses on top of them, and most importantly leaving little lovebites for only the two of you to see and know about. oscar is also in love with your breasts, no matter how big or small they are.

can't believe i almost forgot to write your eyes… i will get back to this later but your eyes are definitely one of his favorite things about you. watching you blink up at him innocently, watching your eyes flutter closed, watching them roll to the back of your head… oh he's smitten.

on his own body, he really likes his thighs. if he got to choose, he would have you sitting on his lap at all times. 24/7, no matter the occasion. the sight of you getting off just by riding his thigh is one of his absolute favorites, he loves flexing his muscles under you and guiding your hips down onto him.

c – cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

since he's a fan of your boobs (well, everything in the chest area, to be fair), he loves to pull out and spill his load over your breasts. he won't do it every time, but he savors the chances he gets. totally has a few pics of you with his cum all over your chest, dripping along your collarbones, saved for the moments when he misses you the most.

d – dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his)

maybe not a dirty secret per se, but oscar has a little submissive streak... he sure does love begging a little, pouting and whining to get what he wants. and i mean, who could say no to these eyes looking up at you?

e – experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?)

well oscar went to school for longer than a lot of other racing drivers, and boarding school for that matter, so i think he's been able to get quite a bit of experience. he knows a lot, but it's more important to him to get to know you and what you like. his prior experience doesn't matter as much as the experience he gains together with you.

f – favorite position (this goes without saying)

oscar thinks you're the most gorgeous thing ever so you bet he doesn't want to spend even a second not getting to look into your pretty eyes. anything where he can watch your face contort or relax, and your eyes squeeze shut or blink up at him, makes him so weak. he loves a classic missionary, especially if he gets to hike one of your legs over his hip and especially if you put a pillow under your lower back because he knows you love it. and when you're enjoying himself, he enjoys himself, too.

seeing you ride him makes him a little crazy though, but don't expect him to keep his eye contact with you during it; his eyes will be firmly glued onto your boobs as they bounce up and down, he can't help it.

g – goofy (is he more serious in the moment? is he humorous? etc.)

oscar is a soft giggler during sex. he isn't overly serious but not overly humorous either, just a good mix. he's low laughs when you're whining for him, playful coos as reactions to your impatience, and a lot of "baby, let's not get ahead of ourselves, okay?" with teasing smiles. he's just not scared of a little humor because sex doesn't have to be so strict to him; it's just a cozy time you spend together and he wants you to be as comfortable and relaxed as you can.

h – hair (how well groomed is he? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he's no naked rat, but he likes to keep things neat. a bit trimmed, not super short but also not long. though i also feel like he definitely adjusts to your likes and what you find attractive.

i – intimacy (how is he during the moment? the romantic aspect)

sex isn't just fucking to him; sex is lovemaking. he loves to be romantic with it. celebrating birthdays or anniversaries in your bedroom with little candles everywhere to set the mood, rose petals in a heart on the bed, with a cozy bubble bath after. and even when it's not a big occasion, he's very soft and romantic. he has a few playlists he loves to put on, he knows exactly what to say to get you in the mood and where to press his lips to draw out your oh so sweet sounds. oscar is all gentle touches and soft glances.

j – jack off (masturbation headcanon)

that one time when you accidentally walked in on him jacking off because you came home early from work/school, he was so extremely flustered – but he also found it very arousing. when you asked him if you could help him out, he couldn't help his hasty nods and the way his heart skipped a few beats in his chest. watching you settle on his lap, your hands starting where his had left off, fingers brushing up and down along him teasingly... from that day, he replays the image of you giving him a handjob in his mind whenever he does it himself, and he loves to get your help whenever he doesn't have a lot of time but needs to get off before a race etc.

k – kink (one or more of his kinks)

marking. 100%. he'll be lowkey and casual with it, not really saying much about it, but after a while you come to the realization that he leaves quite a lot more lovebites than anyone you've been with before. the inside of your thighs, your hips, your ribs... but especially your chest area. they won't usually be where anyone can see, because he likes to keep your sex life private, but there have been occasions when he's been a bit extra riled up (or jealous) and he just couldn't back from leaving trails of hickeys down your neck. he just adores the thought of you having a physical reminder of who you belong to, even if they fade after a while.

l – location (favorite places to do the do)

your bedroom is the #1 favorite, but he's okay with other places too. he especially likes your bathtub, especially when the lights are dimmed and you've got some pretty candles spread out in the room (and downed a few glasses of wine possibly).

m – motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)

oscar loves lingerie. if you wore any lingerie, he would be turned on instantly. he just can't help it. i also feel like he's the type to just get turned on from mundane, domestic things. like, seeing you cooking? watching you do your nighttime routine? it's a reminder him that you're there, you're real, and you're his. there's nothing hotter than that.

during the actual lovemaking, he gets a little crazy whenever you say his name. especially when you're about to come and his name slips from your lips in the form of a breathless whimper and he can feel your insides contract around him. it could make him come instantly.

n – no (something he wouldn't do, turn-offs)

nothing where there's even the slightest chance that you'll injure yourself. nuh uh. he also dislikes things where you won't be able to easily quit if anything were to happen, like bonding. the idea of you being tied up when the fire alarm goes off or you get a panic attack makes his skin crawl, it's his worst nightmare.

o – oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

i don't think he has anything against receiving it, but it won't happen unless you initiate it. he's very certain about not pressuring you in that way; he knows it's not always your favorite thing to do and he respects that.

i see him as someone who loves to give it, though. especially if he can take his time with you, rile you up with soft kisses and gentle caresses of your skin.

p – pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

oh i totally see oscar as more slow and sensual. as we've covered already, sex is lovemaking to him, and he's in no rush. he wants to enjoy every second of it, and make sure you do too. foreplay can last for an eternity with him because he loves preparing you for what's to come.

q – quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he'd rather take his time with you and do it properly. if he really needs to blow off some steam, he'd rather just jack off or have you help him out if you don't have any time. if you're going to have sex, he wants to not be in any rush, and he wants to have time to properly take care of you after.

r – risk (is he game to experiment? does he take risks? etc.)

he's definitely open to experiment. he might want to try more things than he's willing to admit; even though he's fully comfortable with you by now, something still makes him a bit nervous about talking to you about it. he wants to find a 'good opportunity' to bring the idea up, but it might take him some courage to do it. he'll be very gentle, shy eyes blinking at you, voice soft… "only if you're okay with it, of course!" and "you really have to tell me if you don't want to. you have to promise me", maybe even making you pinky promise that you indeed do want to try the thing.

he'd be over the moon if you insinuated it, though. anything you're up for, he's automatically up for, too.

s – stamina (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)

i think his stamina is quite good. when i say that he loves taking his time with you, i mean it in that way, too; he can go on for hours. if he needs to take a break, then he'll start focusing on you and making you feel good instead. neither of you will ever get tired, he just keeps on going until he's satisfied.

t – toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)

i wouldn't say he's the biggest fan of them, but he doesn't have anything against them, either. he's much happier if he gets to be the person to make you feel so good. though, the thought of you using your toys on yourself when he's not around really gets him going, and if anything, he's okay with you using them on yourself even when you're together. (fic abt osc watching you use your vibrator hereee)

u – unfair (how much he likes to tease)

not as much as some other people (*cough cough* his teammate *cough cough*) but he does enjoy it. he really likes teasing fingers dragging up and down your ribs, fleeting kisses all over your skin, brushing your hair away from your face as you're waiting for him to do something.

he does it in a gentle and sweet way that should be interpreted as just cute but it makes you furious sometimes? because he can be so slow it's infuriating and you want him to just get on with it already. he'll be pretending to think things through or fiddle with a belt, and you'll just go crazy because he should be touching you but he's just finding a bunch of excuses to keep you on your toes. he loves to see you squirming and whining beneath him, holding your hands away easily with a 'tsk' when you try to release some of your tension yourself since he's so goddamn slow. (blurb ish on this topic hereeee)

v – volume (how loud he is, what sounds he makes, etc.)

a lot of heavy breathing. i see him as a groaner, but he's not overly loud with it. he lovesss to talk you through it, though. "are you ready? is this okay? tell me if i need to pause. that feels so good, you're doing so good."

w – wild card (a random headcanon)

oscar LOVES praising you. it just happens naturally because he thinks you're doing so well and he loves you so much, he must tell you. "that's perfect, love. i love it when you do that. god, you feel so good. look at you, taking me so well. and looking so beautiful while doing it? there's no one as good as you..."

x – x-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

just a bit longer than average but it's the thickness that makes him stand out. even after being together for a long while, it takes you a good amount of foreplay to stretch out for him, and it still feels like he's splitting you open once he finally slips fully into you.

y – yearning (how high is his sex drive?)

nothing too special i'd say, he loves a good few rounds but he enjoys a sweet, romantic night of another kind just as much.

z – zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterward)

a sleepy boy in general but most of the time, he gets a little energy boost out of sex instead. he will be the last to fall asleep pretty much every time, which is also because he just wants to enjoy the moment for as long as he can before eventually falling asleep. he adores having you in his arms after doing his aftercare routines, drawing little shapes into your skin as you start to fall asleep. once asleep, though, he sleeps so well & heavy. it'll take three alarms and you bribing him with kisses for him to actually wake up before 1pm.

[aemondfairy]

A Little Wicked

summary: Your captor summons you to his quarters and offers you a deal.

pairing: Aemond x Witch!Reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: Explicit smut, power imbalance, threatening, reader is Aemond’s prisoner, dubcon, fingering 18+ MDNI

note: Inspired by Alys, of course 💚 but no physical descriptors! Idk how I feel about this but yeah…… Feedback is appreciated!

How did the saying go? When a Targaryen is born, the Gods flipped a coin? A 50/50 chance to ascend to greatness or be destined to descend into madness. It served as a reminder to the great family that dragons or not, they were mortal like everyone else. For the rest of the realm, it served as a warning: The Targaryen’s were a force to be reckoned with. Intimidating, unpredictable. When the Targaryen’s wanted something, only a fool would deny them of it or stand in their way. Aemond Targaryen was no exception to this folklore. He teetered on the brink of insanity majority of the time.

You shivered as you sat in the cold, damp dungeon. The only light came from a small barred window high up on the stone walls. You could hear the faint sound of dripping water and the occasional scurrying of rats. You wondered how long you would be trapped here.

“You, girl!” One of the burly men guarding your cell called, metal keys clanging in his hands.

“Prince Aemond Targaryen has requested an audience.”

You had been waiting this moment since you first arrived: judgement day. What would become of you? Would you be granted mercy? You weren’t even sure how many days had passed since your house was burned to ash and you were thrown in this dungeon.

Once the man unlocked the chain around your wrist, you struggled to rise to your feet, anxiety coursing through your veins.

“Come now, girl. The prince does not like to be kept waiting.

The darkness of the chamber seemed to breathe along with the prince. The room where he took solace was beautiful and spacious, but yet you found it to be almost as eerie as the dungeons. Aemond sat in a large leather chair eagerly awaiting your arrival. Across from him was a small dining table and a wooden bench big enough for two. Without uttering a word, he motioned for you to sit down. You obliged, nodding at him and smoothing your dress as you did so. Before you was a small plate with freshly baked bread and a small goblet of wine.

“You must be hungry,” he stated, “eat.”

Hungry was an understatement, you were starving. You took a rather large bite of the bread, washing it down with the wine. It was the best wine you had ever tasted. You were thankful to have something to calm your nerves.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve summoned you here.”

You swallowed the bread with quickness and wiped your mouth of any possible crumbs.

“That is correct, your grace.”

Aemond leaned forward so that his elbows were touching his knees, a fox-like grin plastered on his face.

“How polite you are,” he noted, “what do you know of me?”

Truth be told, you didn’t know much about Aemond Targaryen. You were aware of his cruelty. You knew that ever since he took over Harrenhal your life had become hell.

“You’re… Aemond Targaryen,” you blurted out, hoping he would not berate you for stating something so obvious. “You’re the second son of the late King Viserys… You were crowned prince regent not long ago, and your dragon is called Vhagar.”

You watched intently as Aemond took a sip of his own wine, silently praying you did not say the wrong thing. His Adam's apple bobbed in the candlelight as he swallowed — the longer you stared at him you realized he was actually quite handsome. Your thoughts of admiration for him were interrupted once he spoke.

“Very good. Now, would you care to know what I know of you?”

Your breath caught in your throat as he stood, striding over to approach where you sat. A knot formed in your stomach as he plopped down next to you, his good eye piercing through you with scrutiny.

“I know that you’re a wet nurse,” he began as his good eye flicked to your breasts so quickly you almost didn’t catch it.

“I know that you are a bastard of House Strong,” the tone of his voice had been laced with venom. You knew he hated your house and you knew he hated bastards. A thin line of sweat began to form on your forehead and your heart raced as you waited for the prince to speak again. Instead he inched closer, his hand ghosting over your thigh.

“As interesting as those facts about you may be, would you like to know the most intriguing of them all?”

Too overwhelmed to speak, you remained silent. Only giving him a simple nod in response.

“I know,” he stated as his large hand now gripped at the flesh of your thigh over your dress, “that you’re a witch.”

His statement made your blood run cold. Aemond’s fingers traced the edge of your jawline, lingering at your pulse point. Your breath hitched once again as his thumb brushed the throbbing vein beneath your skin.

“Isn’t that right, my sweet?”

He was correct. Your late mother had been teaching you magic since you were a young girl. You possessed the gift of foresight, being able to see into the future and the past. However it wasn’t so black and white. You had much to learn before your craft was perfected.

“I am not as powerful as you may have been led to believe, my prince.”

Any doubts you had of yourself, Aemond did not seem to agree on, he did not even acknowledge you. His hand found its way further down and under the skirts of your dress. Large fingers probed between your legs, pressing hard against your clothed sex. You tensed up, your breath leavingyour lungs. Your body betrayed you as you felt arousal blooming within you, dampening your small clothes.

Your mind raced with conflicting emotions as Aemond’s hand ventured deeper, snaking its way beneath the waistband of your undergarments. Fear mingled with desire, leaving you torn between pushing him away and surrendering to the agonizing threat of pleasure that pulsed through your veins. It's not as if you had much of a choice in the matter.

"I believe that we can be of service to one another," he whispered against your neck, licking lightly at the sensitive flesh. Two of his fingers teased at the bud between your legs, pinching at it lightly as they became sticky with your slick. A wave of pleasure rippled through you and you squirmed beneath him. Involuntarily your body jolted forward, allowing him better access to the spot he was exploring.

"Together, I believe we can conquer many obstacles and even achieve success."

You cringed as a moan escaped your lips.

"You shall remain loyal to me and me only," he said as he pushed his fingers inside of you. He chuckled darkly as your body trembled under his touch.

"The practice of your craft is to only be done in my presence," he continued as his fingers pumped in and out of you, stretching you deliciously — almost, but not quite reaching that spongy spot within your walls.

“You will use your powers to the best of your ability and for my benefit and in return, I shall spare you your life.”

Another moan erupted from within you as he hooked his digits up slightly, pressing into the spot you needed him most.

“Do you think you can be a good girl and obey my rules?”

Your cunt began to squeeze around his digits in response to the nickname.

As he grazed the rough patch inside of you and pressed firmly into it, his free hand pushed down on your stomach while he continued to thrust his fingers. You felt your body shake and tremble as your orgasm began to wash over you at an embarrassingly quick pace. Aemond watched in great amusement as you came undone beneath him. In this light you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, your hair unruly and your cheeks flushed crimson. A sight he would never grow tired of.

He removed his fingers from your slick and gave you a minute to gain your composure. You felt a wave of shame crash over your body, unable to look him in the eye. How did you succumb to him so easily? Thought in the back of your mind you had hoped wasn't going to be the last time something of this nature was going to happen.

Aemond used the same two fingers that were inside of you to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“So,” he smirked “do we have a deal?”

“Yes, your grace.”

He informed you that a guard would be taking you to your new quarters as he bade you goodnight.

As you entered your new quarters, you were taken back by the luxury of it all. The walls were made of stone and there was a large, ornate canopy bed in the center, a major upgrade from your own bedroom, and an even bigger upgrade from the dungeons. To your delight, a steaming bath had been drawn for you and a fresh chemise was laid out on the bed.

This was just the beginning of your very complicated relationship with Aemond Targaryen. You were still a prisoner, you were still afraid of what was to come; but there were worse situations you could be in and perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[ghostboneswrites2]

Crush

This one is for the sensitive girlies with emotional regulation issues that find themselves hopelessly attracted to emotionally unavailable men. (Aka me) Idk how I feel about it tbh. We’ll see.

Summary: While on a Rick-ordered fishing trip with Daryl, things are tense and uncomfortable. Emotions run high, things are said. (Prison Era)

Warnings: fem!reader / age gap (reader is in her early-mid 20s) / swearing / dramatic and angsty / mean!Daryl

Masterlist // Taglist

Seductive Summer - D.D. Fic Challenge

Dividers by sister-lucifer

A bead of sweat trickled down your temple as you licked your lips, mouth dry from the hot sun. You blinked, eyes fixated on rough hands and bulging muscles as the thin fabric of a black button-up struggled to contain their mass. He moved with precision, callouses delicately threading the line through the pretentiously small hole of the fishing hook.

“Ya gonna help or sit there lickin’ your lips like a bitch in heat?” Daryl finally snapped, growing tired of the sensation of lustful eyes boring into him. In a feeble attempt to mask your shame, you rolled your eyes and huffed, annoyedly picking up a hook to thread your own line through.

This wasn’t a rare occurrence. If anything, it was the norm. Daryl, the handsome but brooding archer, simply trying to complete whatever tasks had been delegated to him on any given day, while the young twenty-something years old Y/N gawks at his physique. It got under his skin, to say the least. He was a man of responsibility, and he found his inner workings far too complex for some little girl with a childish crush to ever understand.

He’d allow it for some time — the stares, the gnawing of your lips, the way you tended to linger around wherever he went — and then the flattery would wear off quickly, and he’d be sure to make it known. It wasn’t like it was a secret that you adored him. He knew it, you knew it, everyone did. You could barely keep your eyes off him from the moment you met him.

Still, despite the judgmental onlookers and his not-so-subtle lack of fondness for you, you just couldn’t help your thirst. To put it simply, you were down bad.

When Daryl had finished his half of the lines he moved on to fashioning small fish traps to place in the stream. He noticed you seemed lost in thought, attention set on the task at hand for once, instead of his big arms and broad chest, or the way his sweat always perfectly follows the framework of his—

“Ya draggin’ your ass on purpose?” He asked, breaking you free from your thoughts.

“I’ll finish when I finish.” You fired back.

That was another thing that irked him to his core. You were so childish. Any hint of criticism or expression of his discomfort always resulted in you sulking or catching an attitude. He didn’t have time to coddle your feelings.

He shrugged you off and focused on nestling the first trap strategically between some stones. As he worked his way down to the last trap, he wondered to himself why Rick always sent you out to fish with him. As previously mentioned, everyone knew how you felt about Daryl, including Rick. Most people also knew that the feeling was not mutual, and in fact, there might have even been some resentment on Daryl’s end.

Truth be told, Daryl didn’t exactly know why it was such an issue. Aside from your youth, which he felt he did not share, you were fairly pleasant in the beginning. Your sweet grin and generous nature weren’t exactly unwelcome at first. It wasn’t until your efforts became too blatant that he felt himself physically recoil at the sound of your voice. As soon as he noticed that people were catching on, watching in awe every time you’d approach him with some fresh water or a snack, a flip switched in his mind. You were no longer a lovely addition to his daily proceedings, but a nuisance to his inner peace.

That was when you changed, too. You noticed the contrast in behavior immediately. It was a talent of yours — or maybe a curse — to be so perceptive. You’d been that way your whole life. Always walking on eggshells, analyzing every word spoken or facial expression made.

When Daryl’s friendliness transformed into indifference, you found yourself trying harder and harder, only to feel more and more disappointment with each failed attempt at gaining his affections. You frequently scolded yourself for the pathetic behavior, which was what you were doing while you slowly threaded fishing lines through the hooks. Any woman with respect for herself would have abandoned ship at the first signs of angry seas, but you were the kind of captain that preferred to drown with her vessel.

Soon enough you’d finished with your hooks and Daryl had placed the last trap. With haste, you both worked to tie worms to the hooks and cast the lines, hoping by this time tomorrow to be returning to camp with a fish dinner. The stream was half a days hike east of the prison, so usually teams of two would take a two or three day ‘vacation’, as Glenn and Maggie would call it, and bring back as much fish as they could.

Once all eight lines were cast, you planted your makeshift rods in the dirt and got to work building a campfire while Daryl hurried to try and get a few squirrels to eat. At least, that was his excuse. In reality, Carol had packed enough food for the both of you. He just wanted to get away.

By nightfall, he was back, cleaning a raccoon and preparing it for the fire. You already had the tent pitched and water boiling to drink, so you were just relaxing with you feet in the cold creek.

Daryl was nice enough to let you know when the raccoon was ready, so you ate at the fire with him in silence.

“I’ll take watch tonight.” Daryl announced as he shoveled the last piece of meat into his mouth.

“You take watch every time.” You pointed out. It was true, he always kept watch on fishing trips.

“What, ya wanna stay up all night? Be my guest.” He retorted.

“I’m not saying that, I’m just saying you don’t have to stay up every time.” You droned.

“Well it ain’t like ya ever volunteer.” He scoffed.

“Because you always do it first.”

“Yeah, ‘cause ya never speak up the whole day we’re workin’.” He argued.

“Okay well I’m volunteering now.”

“Well, forget it, ‘cause I already said I’d do it.”

“Fine.” You shrugged.

With a huff, you pushed yourself off the ground, swiping dry leaves from your jeans as you marched over to the tent to retrieve a sleeping bag for Daryl. You dropped it on the ground beside him. It landed with a soft thud.

“The hell’s that for?” He asked.

“Use it or don’t. I don’t care. Carol packed it for you.” You said bitterly.

You retired to the tent after that, working on taking your gun apart and putting it back together for practice. When you grew tired of that, you dug in your bag for a cigarette and stealthily unzipped your tent, scanning the coast for any signs of Daryl and his deep scowl that he seemingly reserved for you only. The fire had died down to smoky ember, but you could just barely make out the stillness in the dark. Nothing was moving, which meant Daryl had probably stalked off somewhere, and you could be alone.

You never really liked being alone, but at least you were free to be yourself, unperceived by others.

You found yourself a nice stump to sit on before you lit the cigarette, savoring the first drag before slowly exhaling.

“That best not be one of mine.” A husky voice startled you from the dark. Your attention snapped toward the trees as his looming figure emerged from the shadows. You rolled your eyes and turned away again.

“You mean the stale ones you lifted off a rotting body? No thanks.” You snarked.

“Whatever.” He tutted, twitching his neck to flip some hair out of his eyes. You could hear his footsteps fading away behind you as you tried to enjoy your smoke without his miserable aura around to cloud up the fresh air. To your surprise, he returned moments later with a cigarette of his own. He leaned back against a tree across from you, sliding down until his ass hit the ground. His face illuminated behind the flame as he flicked his zippo open. Subtly, you watched while the shadows danced across his chiseled features as he guided the tip of his cigarette into the flame with his lips.

With a metallic click, the lighter flipped shut and he was shrouded in darkness once more. Your eyes thoughtlessly followed the small red orb of his cherry as he pulled on his cigarette and dropped his hands back into his lap. He didn’t say anything, and it was a tad too dark to really be able to tell, but you knew he was watching you, just as you were watching him. The minutes ticked by as your cigarette faded to ash. Just as you leaned down to snuff the butt in the dirt, he cleared his throat.

“‘M gon’ tell Rick not to send ya out here with me no more.” He informed you.

“Why?” You asked defensively.

“‘Cause you’re too slow. I’ll get more done with someone else.” He explained.

“Like who?” You insisted.

“Like someone who ain’t so distracted.” He sighed with exasperation. He didn’t really even know why he told you that. He was considering telling Rick not to send you with him anymore, but he hadn’t really decided one way or another yet. He guessed he just had to cause tension to keep himself from staring at you too long.

“Yeah.” You scoffed. “That’s why.”

“Well, why the hell else would it be?” He snapped.

“You just don’t wanna be around me.” You mumbled.

“Maybe I wouldn’t mind it if you’d act like a fuckin’ adult!” He raised his voice now, and you regretted saying anything. He could sense you shrinking back from his harsh tone, which only angered him more. “All ya do is stare at me all fuckin’ day and pout like a schoolgirl when ya don’t get your way!”

Tears welled at the rim of your eyes, sniffling as you swallowed a lump in your throat. You hated being yelled at, being cornered, being made to feel like a vulnerable child. You hated that he could affect you that way.

Quickly, the pain and anxiety melted away. You began to feel angry. Enraged, even, at the fact that he could treat you so harshly. What had you done to deserve that? Why did he think it was okay to be so cruel?

A rush of adrenaline washed over you as you abruptly stood to your feet, trembling as your emotions overcame you.

“Excuse me for trying! For being kind! For putting up with your piss-poor attitude and still thinking the fucking world of you! All I do is try to treat you the way I wish someone would treat me! No matter how fucking awful you are to me!” You shouted, bitter and full of resentment.

“So why the hell do ya still try?!” He shouted back, pushing himself off the ground and towering over you. In the dark, your most visible feature was your big wet eyes glistening in the natural light of the moon. His eyes flickered between them, somewhat intimidating by how expressive they were. A man like him spent his whole life perfecting his mask, hiding his true feelings from the world, protecting them beneath the surface of his hardened shell.

“Because I love, Daryl!” You shrieked, voice coarse from strain. “I love. I have so much love to give and nowhere to fucking put it! And — and I see you and I see a man who’s never felt love and I—“ You paused to let out a sob and catch your breath. “Because for whatever reason, I saw you and decided you were the one that I needed to love and that doing so would make everything else make sense.”

Daryl seemed taken aback by your confession. He didn’t know how to process any of it, so he instead decided to push you away even more.

“I don’t need your fuckin’ love, alright?” He spat, emphasizing the word love as if the word disgusted him. “I don’t need it, and I don’t want it.”

His words stung as they approached you from gritted teeth. The blow was harsh enough o knock you down from your rage-high.

“Well…” You croaked, sniffling as you wiped remnants of fresh tears from your cheeks. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, you found yourself at a loss of words. Maybe there was nothing else to say. “Glad we cleared things up, then.”

You spent the night silent in the tent, tears spinning down your flushed cheeks as you stared blankly at the worn fabric above you. Eventually you fell asleep, but you got little rest. Daryl gathered all the fish the next morning while you tore down the campsite. The hike back home was spent feet apart, both of you ensuring to keep your distance. Your stoic expressions didn’t go unnoticed upon returning to the prison, but luckily nobody pried. Carol, Maggie, and Beth cooked up the fish and some fresh garden veggies while you snuck off to shower and Daryl disappeared to wherever.

You skipped dinner, hiding away in your cell with a sheet hung up for privacy. You actually fell asleep fairly quick, exhausted from the vast range of emotions you experienced in such a short amount of time the night before.

Daryl, on the other hand, laid awake on his cot for a majority of the night. His mind’s eye repeated the events of the night prior, peppered with correlated instances from times passed. Carol had told him once that he was too hard on you, that you were just searching for anything that would make you feel good in such a rotten world. She was right, he knew that, and yet he could not bring himself to allow it.

He didn’t see how nobody else saw it the way he did. Would it not have been easier keep things simple? It made more sense to him for things to remain above the surface level, where emotions and deep connections could not harm either of you. To grow attached in this world was surely a fools game. So why did everyone seem so hell-bent on making friends and falling in love? Why were they willing to take the risk?

He was exhausted the next morning. By the time he fell asleep the sun was creeping over the horizon. You were a bit better off after a full night of sleep. Your eyes were less puffy than the day before, and your stomach was aching for a bite to eat. Daryl had no appetite or energy. He stayed in bed well past noon.

You didn’t see him until dinner that night, not that you were looking. For the first time in a while, you decided to allow yourself some peace.

Since you’d slept so well the night before, you offered to take over watch for Carol, which she accepted gratefully. You brought yourself a cigarette and one of the books from the library to entertain yourself. Just as you settled in and got comfortable in the tower, the hatch opened and Daryl emerged with his own items for amusement.

You didn’t say anything as he lifted himself up. You just watched him quizzically. He paused when he noticed you sitting there.

“I got watch tonight. Told Rick.” He informed you.

“I took over for Carol.” You countered blandly.

“Well you’re relived.” He pushed.

“No thanks.” You brushed him off.

“Ain’t askin’.” He said.

“I was here first.” You shrugged, lighting your cigarette and flipping to the first chapter of your book.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere so ya might as well get on.” He urged.

“I’m sure the fence could use some relief from the walkers.” You suggested.

“So why don’t ya go and take care of ‘em?” He retorted.

“Because I’m on watch.” You countered.

Daryl sighed in defeat.

“Got an extra one o’ those?” He asked, gesturing toward the cigarette.

“Only brought the one.” You replied.

“Look,” he began, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “‘M sorry I was an asshole, but it can’t be the way ya want it to be.”

“And what way did I want it?” You quirked a brow.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make shit hard. Ya always do that.”

“So then the simple solution would be to leave me alone. I get it. You don’t want me.”

“It ain’t about wantin’ you, girl!” He groaned in exasperation. “It’s about protectin’ you! Protectin’ me! Protectin’ everyone!”

His chest rose and fell as his fists clenched at his sides. You stared up at him and fawned under his blazing eyes.

“We can’t… I can’t.” He insisted.

Silence consumed you both in the night. The tension was so palpable that it drowned out the nightly buzz of crickets and frogs in the trees. Daryl felt he had said too much already. He should have just let you hate him and left it be. He couldn’t, though. As much as he wanted to be cold, hard, and arrogant, he was very much a soft soul with a longing for genuine connection.

With a deep sigh and an expression of defeat, he retreated back to his cell without another word to you.

To be continued… Maybe??

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix @superbowlisgay @liizzygrant @eddiemunsonsupremecy

[kira-fluff]

I saw the “Sleeping with no pants on” headcanon and was wondering if you could do a pretty setter squad containing Atsumu, Kageyama and Akaashi please- ☁️

sleeping with no pants on | fem!reader x haikyuu!! [pt. 5]

a/n: i was not expecting everyone to be so obsessed with this prompt but I am LIVING for it. I love you guys so much 🩷 p.s. my lovely, atsumu is actually in pt. 1, but I'm going to switch for twinnie osamu, okay? 💕 also I'm so sorry i was gone for so long. busy busy busy working 3 jobs with college. forgive me if I'm a bit rusty. tw: sorta spicy idk

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

osamu miya "hey, 'samu, 'samu." "hm." he replied in a grunt. "'m tired." the two of you had stayed up the entire night trying out new recipes that osamu had thought of when he was supposed to be paying attention in class. so, now here you were at midnight, sprawled out on the couch, exhausted. "'n go 't sleep." "don' wanna drive home." "'n stay." you murmured an acknowledgement, then began slipping off your pants. osamu immediately sobered from his tiredness. "wait, the hell are ya doin'?!" "'m goin' to bed, obviously." "ya can't just take yer pants off with a man in the house!" you let out a little scoff, "oh, get over it." but osamu's mind was already racing. he tried to act cool on the outside, but you were just in your fucking panties and acting like it was no big deal? why were you always so clueless around him??? did you really not see him as romantic material??? osamu couldn't help but stare at the round shape of your ass even as your long shirt covered you. he had scarcely time to begin devouring the sight of your legs when you cleared your throat. "are you.....staring... at me?" he cleared his throat and looked away. "...s-sorry.." you leaned in close, just below his ear. "ya know... if you really wanted it that badly, you could've said something.." you smirked, taking a blanket and covering up your lower half with a conceited smirk, walking away. "h-hey wait! the fuck did ya mean by that?!" he trailed behind eagerly. the rest of the night? well... "just friends" was no longer in either of your vocabulary anymore.

kageyama tobio you friends, after all, nothing more. and you didn't want to make it weird. weirder than it already felt having hidden feelings for your best friend. it getting late after a particularly long study session which involved you trying to drill basic math facts into a brain that only understood volleyball. it was a hopeless endeavor, but you took him getting anything above a "50" as a win. so, you continued to attempt to help him improve his grades. you supposed "attempt" wasn't necessarily the right word, as his scores were generally improving, but sometimes you found yourself wondering if there was really a point to it all after you spent the whole lesson trying to help him relearn everything he misunderstood in the lesson from that day. so here you were, exhausted, with your head down on your table at home, tobio sitting across from you. "hey, kageyama, let's just call it a night." he paused for a moment, then spoke. "....do you want to sleep with me?" if you had any liquid in your mouth, you're certain you would've had a comical spit take. "ah, um, WHAT?" you sputtered, trying to make sense out of what he said. he didn't mean it that way, did he? no, of course not. "it's... late." yep. just offering a place to stay. "it is. but there are still trains. i can take a late one." "just get in my bed." your eyebrows raised. "hey, tobio, a normal person would misunderstand what you just said..." he ignored you. "just sleep with me." your face took on a reddish hue the more times he said it... and he just didn't get it? why was he messing with your heart like this!?!? "um... there are different ways to say that. like... 'want to spend the night?'" "then, spend the night." "why are you being so pushy?" "because i like you." as a friend. yeah. we've been over this. "ok, ok, you've convinced me with the power of friendship. but I'm sleeping on the couch." "no." "yes." "no. my bed has enough room." "not for me!!" you laughed nervously. does this guy even have hormones? like, what the fuck? "....I'm going to go shower. I'll see you in my bedroom." does this guy not understand the meaning of no? still, you found yourself begrudgingly trudging over to his bed, especially after you saw his couch was made with the comfort of a burlap sack. I mean, if he offered, might as well take advantage right? what could go wrong? spoiler: everything goes wrong. you thought he was fast asleep. so, in the stealth of 1000 ninjas, you slid off your sweatpants for the sake of comfort. it wasn't weird, right? oh well. you were tired and damn did he like his room hot. you jumped when you felt him arms wrap around you. then, he stiffened. "...are you not wearing any pants?" "um... maybe..." he sighed. "are you trying to seduce me?" "n-no it's just more comfortable!" he turned you around so you were facing him. "well, whatever you're trying to do, it's working. I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep." "wait, is it because I'm making you uncomfortable?" he went silent for a moment. ".... you could say that." "I'll... just put them back on then. sorry. it's just that your room is really hot and-" "can I kiss you?" you blinked in disbelief. "can you what?" "kiss you" he answered without a beat. you spluttered some more as he slowly leaned it, asking for permission, silently this time. you nodded and closed your eyes. sparks flew as his lips moved against your own and you finally understood what he'd meant when he said "I like you". kageyama tobio was head over heels in love with you, and you hadn't a clue. until now. the two of you broke apart. "...can we... do that again?" he asked brazenly. you leaned forward again in reply.

akaashi keiji akaashi would rather die than confess to you the things he woke up at night fantasizing about. you'd likely be especially mortified if you discovered that one of your most embarrassing mishaps was on a frequent replay in akaashi's brain when he fell asleep. he was supposed to be a gentleman, not some gross pervert that looked at one of his best friends like... that. but since it was all in his dreams, it was impossible to "turn off" no matter how many times he tried to think about something else before he went to sleep. and so, let's recall The Incident shall we? he had come to your house late at night and knocked at the door, fully expecting to see you up and awake as it was the early evening. to his surprise, however, you answered the door groggily, eyes still bleary from exhaustion and sleep. the way you looked would be forever ingrained in his mind. you were blinking back the remnants of sleep, wearing one of his shirts. it hung low on you, but not low enough to cover your supple legs and the white panties that peeked out below the hem line of his shirt. you hadn't noticed yet, either. "... what d' ya need...?" you asked tiredly, rubbing your eye. akaashi swallowed harshly, his brain turned into complete mush. "uhh.. uhh...." goddamnit, MOVE YOUR EYES BACK UP TO HER FACE. were her legs always that long? STOP. when he still hadn't answered, you followed his gaze down to your lower half. he still remembers the succession of events as follows: you blushed, stammered, and then slammed the door in his face. you didn't talk to him for a week. after, you finally awkwardly explained that you sleep without your pants on and that you didn't realize you hadn't put anything on when you answered the door because you were so tired. it sucked that you ignored him. and even that you explained yourself. because all it did was bring those... memories... right back to the forefront of his mind. whenever he saw you in the hall and you'd flush and look away, he was immediately brought back to the sight of your bare legs. when you stumbled through your explanation, his mind reeled back to those white panties. and he hated it. what kind of friend looks at their friend that way? but he knew in his heart that what he was feeling for you was beyond sexual attraction when, in his dreams, you smiled at him. and told him you loved him. and so, what if he dreamt a little longer? hopefully you'd forgive him. and maybe someday he could tell you how you made him feel...

[honeyhotteoks]

i NEED your thoughts on priest!yunho like.... please, all my mind does is wonder about yunho using his power to bring a girl under his powerful spell... I NEED HIM BIBLICALLY

idk if you remember me but ✨anon is back !!!

oh my gosh hi ✨ anon!! i def remember you, i hope you've been well!

okay so priest!yunho is actually so dear to me i cannot even articulate it i have like sixteen different ideas and i honestly think at some point it will develop into a full fic however.............. further thoughts under the cut

priest!yunho x married!reader drabble; 1.7K words warnings: lots of angst, pining, and blasphemy, questionable use of a confessional, oral (f receiving)

note: okay so here's the thing about priest!yunho, and yunho in general, while i think he deeply has the capacity for very real dom/sub dynamics etc., when it comes to the idea of him being catholic or him being a priest in the fic, i think of him less bringing a girl under his spell and more being brought under a spell and tempted away by reader. certainly that's not an original idea, that's very fleabag-esque and i've mentioned that headcanon before, but i do think that would be very true to him. so given that...................

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──────────────── ♡ ─────────────── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Yunho is new to the parish, and he's still somewhat new to this. A young priest in his early thirties moving to a new place to fill the role of someone who was once a big fixture in the community there. He's admittedly a bit nervous, and he's trying his hardest to get this right. He's had a long and complicated past coming to the vocation, and he feels like he's finally found his path, so he wants to do things the right way.

But despite all of that...... there's you. And you're married of course, you come to church with your husband, but you smile up at him during services and ask after him in quiet moments whenever you volunteer, and there's just something about the way you move in the world that makes him want to follow. But he doesn't, because you're married and for all intents and purposes so is he.

That is until things start to change. You start to miss Sunday services more often and when you are there you seem withdrawn. Your husband no longer sits snugly beside you with an arm around you shoulders, instead you sit side by side with six inches between you. Space that seems to be growing week after week, and Yunho can't help but notice. He can't help but wonder what it is that's troubling you so and driving a wedge deeply into your marriage, and it's not his place and he shouldn't ask..... but he does.

As you leave service one day, he slips a note into your palm, pressing your hand tightly closed so no one can see it and with a pleading expression he bids you not to open it until you're alone. He doesn't know what's happening at home, he can't be sure, but he's worried and if you're unsafe the last thing he's going to do is be the cause of more pain in your life.

It's simple though - a phone number scrawled out hastily next to a note. If you ever need a friend, you have one in me.

It takes you weeks to call, but it feels finally like someone's thrown you a lifeline and you grab onto it with both hands.

It starts simply enough, truly innocent when he offers you coffee and a safe place to sit by his side in the chapel. He's an ear at first, just listening and nothing more. You confess to him how hard things have been at home, how your relationship has grown strained, more like two passive strangers than a committed husband and wife. You admit you've thought about divorce, and you know deep down your husband has been cheating on you. You've seen enough little signs and found enough evidence, and it used to hurt but now it just feels empty, and you've never said that out loud to another person except to him.

He listens and he holds your hand, and he gives you a safe place every few days to just be. And all the while he tries desperately to convince himself that the growing love he feels for you isn't romantic love at all, it isn't deep and intrinsic and as essential to him as breathing.... it's friendship. And all the while you tell yourself that the feelings you have for this man aren't real, they're a product of kind attention, validation and support you're not getting at home.

Things change when the visits turn from morning coffees to a shared glass of something stronger in the evenings. Things change when he casually admits that of course he feels attraction for people, priests aren't blind, but they've committed themselves to a different kind of life. Things change when he holds you close one night, your chest wracked with tears after a particularly nasty fight with your husband, seeking Yunho's warmth and his calm.

When you finally decide to do the unthinkable, really and truly divorce your husband, the day happens around you like a whirlwind. You serve him the papers, and he replies with the most hurtful thing he ever could - an accusation that you and the parish priest have become a little too friendly. People have seen you around town, around the church, early mornings and late nights, and all the little whispers of gossip have made it so that despite having done nothing but yearn for each other, everyone has all but confirmed an affair.

The words exchanged are cruel, and you find yourself stumbling into the confessional with more anger than you've ever felt in your life. and Yunho doesn't understand why you even want to use the booth at first, you've never expressed any real interest in the more traditional aspects of the church, but you're here and your begging him and all he can do is agree.

"Bless me father, for I have sinned," You manage through hazy tears, "I can't tell you how long it's been since my last confession, I don't know, I don't remember,"

"y/n," Yunho's voice is so soft, so tender, approaching you like someone might approach a wounded animal, "you don't have to do this,"

"Stop it, stop it!" Your fists tighten, nails pressing into your palms, "Don't be nice to me right now, I can't... I don't deserve that,"

"You always deserve kindness," He says through the slats and you hear him shift in his seat.

"Not today," You scrub a hand over your face, clearing away tracks of wet tears.

"Please," He shifts again, and you can picture him clearly, leaning towards you with that gentle expression you love so much, "talk to me, I'm here,"

"I've sinned," You clench your hands tighter, sticking to the script that was drilled into you in childhood.

"y/n," He murmurs.

"Father," You cut his words off, "you're not my friend, you're my priest. Are you going to take my confession or not?"

He's silent, so silent you fear for a moment that he's gone, and then you hear a heavy sigh, "I'm listening."

Your hands relax a little, your eyes going unfocused as you try to find the words. You came here in a blaze of anger but here, next to him, in front of him, hearing his breath through the wall, you don't know how to articulate all the feelings roiling deep in your chest.

Your soon to be ex-husband's words loop in your ears - You're a disgrace. You could have fucked anyone like a normal person, but him?

Words tumble from your lips, "I'm a liar,"

Yunho stays quiet.

"I've been lying to... everyone. To him, to my friends, myself, I've been lying to you," Your breath feels thready.

"About what?" He prompts you, "I'm listening,"

You push past it, heat filling your cheeks again, anger curling in your gut, "I've coveted,"

He hums softly, acknowledging your words.

"I left him," You take a sharp inhale, a tight sob caught in your throat.

"What?" You hear him shift again on the other side of the thin wood wall.

"I got an apartment, I found a lawyer, I figured it all out and I... I gave him the papers," You can feel the way your husband pushed you back into your chair, his tone harsh and cutting, the way he told you he'd take you for everything you were worth not the other way around.

Yunho's silent still.

"I tried to leave," You sob, "I tried to be the adult and end it easily, I tried to do the right thing, he's the one who's been cheating, he's been lying. He's been... he's not a good husband, and I... I just..."

"Shh, shh," He shushes softly through the wall, and you can practically feel the tension from him even with the wall between you as he tries to parse through your words, "breathe,"

"He knows about us," The words keep coming now, and you hear his little intake of breath but there's nothing more as you let it all come, "he knows I come here, everyone knows. Everyone. He said it's obvious, that I'm the one who's been cheating, that I... I broke our vows in the w-worst way, that it's an open secret. Everyone thinks I got b-bored, that I seduced you,"

Your heart is pounding in your ears, "And it's a rumor, it's just a rumor, but the thing is,"

You hear him shift again in the confessional next to you, the only sign he's still here.

"I do want you," You drop your head into your hands, "I've lied to you since the start, I wanted a friend, but I've wanted you too,"

"y/n," He's so quiet you almost miss it.

"And if everyone thinks what they think," You're dizzy, blood rushing in your ears, "then it's true, only I never, we never... I've ruined your life and mine and I've never even gotten to really touch you, and it's wrong, I know it's wrong, but you're all I think about. It's killing me, this is killing me, and I can't,"

The door to the confessional is suddenly open, your words dying on your lips as the equilibrium of the little room changes. He's on you in a second, dropping to his knees before you, gathering you close in his arms and his lips on yours like he's done it a thousand times before. He presses up into your space, your legs parting open as wide as the narrow walls allow to slot his body perfectly between your thighs.

You suck in a harsh breath against his lips, tears still caught in your throat, and Yunho shakes his head, his forehead leaning against yours as he breaks the kiss, "Shh," he eases you, "I've got you,"

A sick, hot thrill rolls through you, "Yunho," his name a whine on your lips.

"I'm here," He whispers it like a promise, like he's yours, not God's.

His hands push at your skirt, rucking it up higher on your hips and maneuvering your body until you're slipping forward on the confessional seat with your hips tilted up.

"My sweet girl," He groans against your lips, fingers tugging your panties roughly to the side so he can slip the pad of his thumb over your swollen clit.

It's unholy, it's debauched, it's everything you dreamt up in your deepest fantasies when you touched yourself in bed, but if your life in this little town is really over you need it to have at least been real. You need him to have been real, even once. Just once.

"God," He chokes against your mouth as his fingers sink inside you, finding your slit slick and body trembling, "oh, God,"

It sounds so different on his lips, and you stifle a moan into his neck when he hits a particularly sensitive place inside you.

"Shh," He hushes you again, pressing one more kiss to your lips before he drops lower between your thighs and hitches your legs up and over his shoulders.

His tongue finds your core and you see colors. He kisses your cunt with a desperate, hungry need and you know with perfect clarity that it wasn't all in your mind. He's wanted too, he's needed you too.

His hands are hot on your hips, your fingers knotted in his hair, and you let him consume you, completely and wholly.

You come hard on his tongue, biting down on your lip enough to draw blood to stay quiet, and you think that nothing in the world would ever feel this good if it wasn't sacred.

It couldn't.

[beardedjoel]

smother - part ii: resistance

dark!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: joel knows how to break you just right, to get you feeling helpless enough to accept what he believes you need. somewhere deep inside of you, you think you might like it. 10.9k words (sorry) chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI! noncon, nonconsensual touching, dubcon - reader eventually enthusiastically consents but the syndrome is stockholming so its dubcon, reader is a virgin, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is 55) masturbation (m), nipple play/groping, manipulation, joel def has a corruption kink, joel gets a bit violent in this chapter, y'all get a lot of touching and (kissing), if these darker tags aren't your cup of tea please keep scrolling! a/n: okay i'm even more nervous about this chapter than the first, idk how it got so long but i really hope its tense and enticing for you all! i love writing dark joel, this has been such a thrill so far tbh! get buckled in for heavy duty smut next chapter too ✌️

Light spills in around the thick, heavy curtains, drawn tightly shut. Just a glowing sliver on the edges and underneath, telling you it’s at least well into the morning, that you’ve been asleep for longer than you’d expected to. Your brain is a scrambled, hazy mess from the way you’d finally been able to pass out, still encumbered by Joel’s grasp holding you down. After a while his heaviness had a calming effect, the opposite of what you’d ever thought would happen when he first came into your bed last night. But now, he was nowhere to be found, the other side of your bed cold and empty, such a stark difference that you start to wonder if maybe you’d imagined it, dreamed it all last night. 

You get up to let some light from the day in, your eyes burning as they adjust and you see that it looks to be late afternoon already. How many hours had you been out for? 

Recollections of the night before flood your brain - Joel’s warmth pressed so close to you, his hard body molding softly into yours like he knew how to keep you safe, take care of you, just like he’d said. Yet there’s still an unease surrounding the thoughts, that he’d made the decision for you, came into your bed and lied. It sends a shiver up your spine, half thrill and half fear as you contemplate what you should do next. Maybe plotting a way to Jackson is the right move, but something about Joel was keeping you here, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on yet. It was more of a feeling, something indescribable that came over you when thinking about him. 

Could he really save you, like he said? Or was he just a sick old man with a fantasy? One he’d fulfill before tossing you out just as easily as he’d taken you in.

You sigh heavily and sit on the edge of the bed for a few moments, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You finally decide you have to leave this bedroom sometime and face Joel again to see if those same confusing feelings from last night persist, or even to clear the air between you two. You freshen up a bit with a toothbrush and homemade toothpaste that Joel had left out for you before fixing your hair to an acceptable enough level. You creep out of the bedroom, soft and quiet movements with socks padding your feet as you listen to hear what Joel is up to downstairs. No sounds of cookware or silverware clinking on plates, no rustling on the pages of a book, no distant sound of him chopping wood outside again. Until you do hear something. 

A sound almost in between a whimper and a groan, and it’s right there, the door diagonally down the hall from yours. You freeze, brows knit together as you wait to try to hear it again. The next time you hear it, it’s more urgent, more gruff, a loud exhale. Was it a pained sound? You couldn’t quite tell as you walked closer, noticing the light spilling from a crack in Joel’s door out into the dim, windowless hallway. 

One peek through the opening in his door has your eyes widening. A gasp sticks itself in your throat but you clap your hand over your mouth when you take in the sight before you. Shit…

All your eyes immediately focus on is Joel’s cock, heavy and thick, hanging out of his pants in a tight grasp in his hand. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, practically in perfect view through this open sliver in the doorway. His eyes are closed, lost in the moment as he grunts a little bit more. You avert your eyes almost immediately, standing frozen with your cheeks burning. You’re not completely unaware, and you do have an idea of what he’s doing. You can’t help but flick your eyes back to him as another strained exhale leaves his lips, your eyes drifting down to where he’s sliding his hand in quick jerks. His cock is pink and slick as he runs his hand along it, and you start to tune into the lewd, sloppy sounds that it's all making as flesh hits flesh over and over again. You squirm in place, feeling your knees go a bit weak before you finally notice it. 

Your underwear. 

It feels like something screeches to a halt inside of you, everything moving in slower motion for a few seconds as this information sinks in. Joel’s face, turning more red and eyes rolling back as he pumps his cock with your underwear from yesterday in his other hand, a fist tightly wrapped around the material. You shudder, but find the little zing traveling further to a spot right between your legs, making you clench your thighs together tighter.

It’s all so… so… a feeling you can’t quite explain that starts to make your skin hot, and a scene you don’t know if you want to stop watching. You are just curious after all, you lie to yourself in those few seconds of continued peeking on Joel’s private moment.

You sense a difference in his movements, flashing your sight up to his face where his eyes are open now, gaze locked on yours, heavy lidded as a smile plays on his lips. He doesn’t stop, though, like you thought he would, and it practically steals the breath from your lungs. 

“Oh… sh- sorry,” you blurt out, panicky and quiet before you can think about it, covering your eyes with your palm and hastily pulling the door shut. 

Joel can’t stop smiling, a wry, devilish thing as he continues in fast, long strokes on his cock. You knowing exactly what he’s doing in here is only urging him on even more, the look in your eyes as he’d caught your stare on his glistening, ruddy cock making him harder. 

His smile grows when he realizes you haven’t stopped enjoying the show, not at all, despite your appearances of shutting the door behind you. What he realizes you don’t know, is that he can see the shadow of your feet underneath the door, tiny, anxious movements that catch the light and cast shadows. 

If you want to listen, he’s surely not going to disappoint you, another little groan slipping past his lips and he tightens his grip and speeds up, picturing you in his mind. He can practically see it now, one of your perfect little hands clasped over your mouth outside his door, trying not to make a peep, your body rigid as you lean closer to listen. Those perfect little hands that should never have to lift a finger, should always be taken care of. A pulse of pleasure wracks his body at the thought of him being the one to do that for you. 

“Fuck,” he whispers hoarsely. “Fuuuuck…”

A few more swift tugs on his length and he’s stuffing your underwear right at the head of his cock, thrusting once and cumming hard into the fabric with a loud moan, the only thing on his mind the mental image of you in nothing but these. 

He’s not too weak to admit he’s already completely addicted to you. Your pretty face, the way you’d finally given him those few little smiles yesterday. How you fit so wonderfully in his arms last night once you’d decided that you needed him. Joel knows he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you as his, to make sure you understand just what you need, how you need him. He sighs as he leans back a moment, then stares down at your underwear, his creamy release staining it now looking like one of the most beautiful sights. To paint you with it himself would nearly kill him, send him into a point of no turning back. No, there’s no doubt now that he’s addicted to this… And god help anyone who tries to take it from him, even you.

The moment you hear Joel’s longer, drawn out groan you scurry away, light as can be on your feet and tiptoe down the stairs in a hurry. The mortification you’d feel if he opened the door to you standing there listening in is more than you can bear. You wish you hadn't been curious, hadn’t wanted to stop and stare just to watch just a bit longer. It wasn’t your fault that you felt completely embarrassingly lost when it came to… sex, but you know it was wrong to invade Joel’s privacy like that. He had left the door cracked, hadn’t he, though? Your brain devours the information, barely able to latch onto that train of thought before the next one comes barreling in. 

You pace back and forth in the kitchen, hands wrung anxiously over and over again in front of you. You gaze at the staircase practically every millisecond, waiting for Joel to come down, wondering if he will. You two have to confront this, right? He knows what you saw, and you certainly know what you saw, the image burned into your mind now. All the details seem hazy in your panic, but all you can think about is your underwear in his hands, and how your current pair feel damp now against your own will. You’d felt this before - attraction and arousal - but not like this. You had been so close to everything this time, not just hearing stories or thinking about kissing a boy you thought was good looking. This was a full fledged man, pleasuring himself right in the next room to you. It makes you break out in a sweat, your body hot and breathing shallow as the floorboards creak under your rushing movements. 

You sigh and continue pacing for another moment before trying to make yourself busy by putting on the kettle, maybe to make some tea, something to calm your frayed nerves. If Joel didn’t wind up kicking you straight back out into the wilderness after that debacle, you’d be surprised. Maybe you should think about kicking yourself out to avoid any of this awkwardness. You make a split second decision to grab your things and go, your first steps out of the kitchen interrupted by heavy footfall upstairs, lazily making its way down to you.

You stand frozen, your plan quickly forgotten when you see Joel, moving with confidence, his steps nonchalant and unhurried as he approaches with a satisfied look on his face. Not angry, not embarrassed, just a casual, almost smug look plastered on his features. You look at a spot past him before dipping your eyes to the floor, your face already heated and flushed. He’s wearing jeans again but this time with a plain, moss green henley shirt rolled halfway up his forearms. Another shirt showing off his strong, muscular form, and it’s killing you inside, especially now that you’ve seen just that much more of him. 

“Sit,” he says plainly, finishing his walk to the kitchen table where he pulls out a chair, settling himself down. When you dare to glance in his direction, he’s giving you a look that sends a shudder up your spine, already knowing he’s about to ask much less nicely if you don’t heed his words. Your shaky hand pulls out a chair, perching yourself on the edge, hands holding on to one another for dear life in your lap. You feel like a child about to be scolded for doing something naughty, and you suppose in many ways that’s exactly what’s happening right now. 

“J-“ you start, with Joel cutting you off before you can even get a syllable out. 

“You enjoy listenin’ to that little show? Gettin’ a little peek?” Joel asks smoothly, a hint of irritation but also gratification in his tone. He leans forward onto the table with his forearms pressed against the wood. 

“N-no I didn’t… I mean I didn’t see much. I didn’t hear… I swear. I’m really sorry, that just made things so… uncomfortable…” you ramble on, feeling like a bumbling idiot as you’re sure your body is about to catch fire. 

“Did it?” Joel asks, eyebrow lifted in casual questioning. It makes you stop, your lips sitting parted with words you can’t express, clouded by confusion. 

“Well… didn’t it? I’m - I don’t know what’s… normal… That didn’t feel…” Your eyes search his face wildly, and you know he can see you, trembling like a fawn stood in the clearing of a forest just before it bolts. 

Joel sighs out a long exhale. “Seems like you enjoyed it, standin’ outside my door.” He states it as a fact, not a guess, and your stomach twists as it sinks. How he knows is beyond you, and you can only sit in your shame now, eyes fixed downwards on the table. You’ve never found knots in wood so interesting before as you stay transfixed by the glossy surface.

“Nothin’ to be ashamed of. Just curious, weren’t ya?” he says, his voice rumbling softly. His hand inches towards you across the table and you finally get the nerve to look up at his eyes. They’ve gone gentler, full of understanding. You’re sure your expression gives everything away, your shock, your intrigue at what you’d witnessed. “Weren’t you?” he asks again, and you finally give him a little nod.

His lips twitch upwards in a wry grin just as the kettle starts to whistle, the sound ramping up rapidly into the silent room. You both stare at each other for a few moments, still processing your answer to him. The screeching reaches a fever pitch, making your skin start to crawl, so you push your chair out in a hurry to grab it off the stove. Joel’s hand shoots out, his large hand snatching your thigh, fingers wrapping around and digging into the flesh through your sweatpants. You halt, your ass plopping right back into the chair as Joel stares at you through narrowed eyes.

“I’ve got it,” he says sternly. He waits a moment longer, making sure you’re fully seated and about to heed his words before standing up. The kettle is at a deafening scream, but Joel seems in no hurry, sauntering over to the stove. You breathe out a sigh of relief as the sound tapers off, Joel setting the kettle to the side while he busies himself with reaching up to some open shelving along the wall where you see several jars full of different types of tea leaves. He’s silent, moving slowly, as if to make you sweat it out, and you admit that his plan is working. You don’t know the last time you felt such an odd, burning fear inside of you. Different than facing infected, than being so hungry without knowing where your next meal is coming from. It’s primal, deep down inside of you, meek little claws in a vice grip at the core of you, a burning that travels downward repeatedly, right between your legs. You notice you’ve started trembling without even realizing it.

He brings a steaming mug over, setting it on the table in front of you. It smells mainly of chamomile, maybe some lavender - you see Joel read your mind on wanting something for your nerves. Instead of retaking his seat across from you, he walks around the table, doing a slow, deliberate lap. His feet, although shoe-less, make an impact along the floor, and you feel like each one sounds like a drum along with the way your heart is beating in your ears. He circles back and pauses behind your chair, sliding his forearm across your chest, tucking it close to your neck.

You really were trapped now. Not just by your own mental doing, unable to make yourself leave at the first sign of trouble with this man for god knows what reason, but truly, physically ensnared by his embrace. His arm wraps tighter across the top of your chest, his hand squeezing on the shoulder where it snakes around.

“Tell me…” he leans closer, lips coming to your ear, a hint of a smirk in his tone although you can’t see his face now. “That the first cock you ever seen? Or just the first time you seen one like mine?” 

Your head swims, unsure of how to answer. He has you trapped with this question, either answer damning to you. You sputter and scoff out a chuckle, shaking your head. 

“No, you say? Which one, honey, c’mon it’s a simple question.” His arm tightens, fingers digging in along your shoulder. “No judgement here, just a curious man, thas’ all.” He says the words as if he’s expectant of a certain answer for you, following a hunch and looking to confirm it for himself. He knows, he knows, he knows. He knows you so effortlessly, reads your mind like it’s the simplest thing in the world. You worry he sees right through you right down to your debased thoughts, the ones where you give in to him and these foreign feelings you want to chase.

You shake your head again. “I haven’t…” Your cheeks burn with the confession, hoping he won’t make you actually say the words. You struggle uncomfortably in his grip, his scent invading your senses now as well, mint and leftover coffee from this morning and your stomach burns so hot you think you might be sick now. He responds with a tighter grasp, his arm starting to press a bit on your windpipe.

Joel blows out a breath, the sound nearly grating next to your ear. “Never seen a cock before till today? Till you saw mine the way you did? That so, darlin’?” He sounds amazed, excitement creeping into his voice. 

You swallow hard, fighting back tears, but you nod for him. “Y-yes…” you admit with a shaky voice, willing yourself not to cry again in front of Joel. 

“Oh, hey, hey, that’s okay. Must be an awful lot to see it jus’ like that, no context for any of it…” he murmurs, his voice oozing a sick sympathy as you sense his excitement building. “Shouldn’t have had to see it as a surprise. If it were up to me, darlin’, I’d have made sure it was perfect. Y’would’ve been amazed by the things a cock like mine can do for ya.”

He tuts quietly, his lips grazing along the shell of your ear. You squirm a little, your breathing picking up as you strain against him. You remember how much you’d liked his lips right under your ear last night, how badly you’d wanted to hate it, but here you were yet again, enjoying it. 

“Now I’m gonna ask you somethin’, honey, and I want you to be honest with me, mkay?” Joel says. Your options feel limited so you motion with a nod for him to go on, his arm digging into your throat further when your head bobs down.

“Be honest, now, remember.” He squeezes your shoulder hard. “How old are ya, honey?” His lips graze your ear again and your legs tense, thighs pressing together. You nearly have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the little moan that wants to slip out of you. 

You chew your lip, telling him the truth before you can even think about it too hard. “I’m nineteen.” You don’t know why you tell him the truth, why you give him any part of you, but you do. 

“Hmm,” he murmurs in a low little groan. His fingers brush along your shoulder, across your chest a bit, loosening his tight grip. “Thank you for tellin’ me the truth, sweetheart. I appreciate that.”

“H-how old are you?” you ask in return, getting a haughty chuckle from Joel. 

“Older’n you,” he says simply, a little growl caught in the back of his throat as his nose buries itself in your hair, taking in a deep breath.  

“B-but I told you…” you whimper a little as he tightens his hold again, leaning further to press his head into your shoulder and neck. 

“Why d’ya wanna know? Wonderin’ why an old man like me is gettin’ your panties wet?” he asks, amused at your expense, knocking you down just one more peg. 

You blink hard and feel yourself flushing again, warmth radiating throughout your body all the way down to your fingertips. You’re angry that he seems to know every damn thing about you, and you feel like you know nothing about what he’s thinking. “I don’t understand… any of it. Why -“

“It’s all natural, sweetheart. Happens when you find yourself likin’ what I’m doin’,” Joel tells you, voice starting to sweeten like honey. His hand strokes your hair, smoothing the sides. 

“I know…” you bite back, only to feel Joel move his forearm closer to your neck. Your breath hitches. “I just mean… I - I want to know how old you are.”

“You persistent little thing…” He smirks again, looking impressed by you. “I’m in my fifties, that’s all y’need to know.” He pauses for a brief second, not wasting a second to keep contact with your skin, his calloused fingertips stroking along the hollow of your neck. They trickle down, gentle and fluid as water as he ghosts along your chest and over your stomach. You shudder and try to keep your eyes open, succumbing to the pleasure of it all - nobody has ever touched you like this, taken their time to feel you out and seem interested in every part of you. It’s a slow, tortuous movement while his arms reach down over you, thick muscles on display, until his fingertips brush along your waistband. They trace back and forth along the crimped edges of the band, tied tightly. He plays with the strings, a clear contemplation to untie them any second. It makes you start to tremble even more, the way you feel powerless and know you couldn’t stop him even if you wanted to.

Joel abruptly stops, pulling his arms back before he starts to walk around the chair, standing in front of you now. He doesn’t crouch to your height, standing tall and proud as he towers over where you sit. His fingers reach forward slowly and gently, thumb and forefinger taking your chin delicately, holding it like something he might break. You can finally see his expression, look into his eyes, and they’re a dark abyss full of mystery and that hungry look he’d flashed at you a few times yesterday. 

“Get the sense you’re feelin’ a bit scared right now, hm?” he suddenly asks.

You swallow and then nod for him, eyes barely blinking as you try to keep track of every single movement he makes. His grip on your chin flashes tighter for just a moment before he lets it go, leaving a little red mark in his wake.

“Good girl.”

Your stomach turns as you realize he wants this, wants your fear to permeate the room so he can devour it, to know that he has this hold on you. Joel leans forward, one hand planted on the table next to you, the other coming down to rest on your thigh. He’s tender in his touch, letting his hand soothingly find its way up your leg.

Joel’s eyes bore into you, trying to capture your attention and hold it, but you can barely summon the courage to look into those dark pools, worried they’ll draw you in forever. Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on your shaky inhales and exhales as Joel’s hand rubs your thigh.

“Don’t you like it, sweetheart? Feels good to be touched here, doesn’t it?” You don’t answer him, eyes squeezed shut even tighter, a quiver starting on your lips. You try to ignore the way your body responds to the touch, skin blazing right where he’s touching and that pooling of heat starting between your legs.

“Now c’mon, open your eyes f’me. I want to take care of you, honey. Jus’ like we agreed to last night. You need me to take care of everythin’ for ya, never make you have to worry or lift a pretty little finger again. I can show you everything.” Joel pauses, waiting to see if you’ll heed his command. His hand wraps a little tighter around your thigh, fingers squeezing.

“I said… look at me. Open your eyes. Nothin’ to be afraid of.” His voice has a shake to it from trying to keep it even amongst his building frustration, his desire to have you under his thumb already. You finally brave it, your eyes opening slowly to find a softer smile playing on Joel’s lips as his face comes into focus, just a few inches from yours now.

“I want you all to myself… d’you understand what I’m sayin’?”

You nod. His smile grows, much more foreboding now.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, fingers squeezing your thigh again, brushing his thumb along the inner part, sending a set of sparks hurtling up your spine. “And you’ll stay? Won’t try to get away from me, will you?” he asks, a wicked raise of his eyebrow telling you there’s only one correct answer here.

Your face falls a little bit. “Wh- what would you do if did?” you dare to ask.

He laughs, a mirthless chuckle before he can even stop himself. “Oh, honey, what’re you gonna do? Where’ll you go? You wouldn’t get barely ten steps outside this door ‘fore I got to ya.” His eyes pierce yours before studying your face for a few moments, challenging you. “Best that you don’t even try, yeah?”

You don’t reply, hoping that the fear in your eyes and trembling lips are answer enough for him.

“Come and sit w’me, how about that? I’ve got a few more questions for you.” Joel offers you his hand and you pause, eyes fixed on his tan, rough skin - hands that have worked hard for an entire lifetime. He takes the initiative to grasp your hand instead, giving you a quick tug that has you standing up to start following him. He completely dwarfs you in every way, his hand practically enveloping your entire fist as he pulls you along towards the couch.

You don’t know what otherworldly urge possesses you so suddenly, but you glance over towards the door, then back at Joel before you muster up everything you have and shove him square in the back, yanking your captured hand back in the process. He stumbles forward, your hand slipping from his and you quickly gain your balance and bolt. You reach the front door, fumbling with the lock and knob as you hear Joel grunt loudly behind you. 

“Don’t you understand? There’s nowhere to go, sweetheart,” he calls after you angrily. You don’t dare turn around as you fling the door open with a strength you didn’t even know you possessed, feet moving of their own accord as you sprint down the stairs and towards the oncoming woods. You can hear Joel’s huffs behind you, both of your shoe-less feet pounding on the frozen earth. It hurts, the cold ground combined with all types of brush and wood littering the forest floor that are now jabbing into your feet with every step. This was stupid, this was a mistake, you’re going to die out here if he doesn’t do it first.

“God… damn… it…” you hear Joel pant behind you, knowing he’s close, that it’s almost over now. You’re weak and frail still, much too slow to outrun a towering powerhouse like Joel. He was right - there’s no fighting it, no escape from here unless he allows it. Maybe it won’t be so bad… maybe you do enjoy the way he speaks to you, the way he’s been touching you… maybe it’ll all be just what you’ve needed. You’ve always wanted more than what you had, wishing for someone to care just a little more, to have a family again.

You lose yourself to an almost transcendent train of thought, letting it wash over you. As if the universe was trying to tell you the right decision, you feel your foot collide with something sharp and you stumble, a sure way to get you back into Joel’s arms. He catches you as you go down, upper arm squeezed into his grasp as his other wraps around and yanks you by the front of your collar, tearing your shirt all the way down to the middle of your chest as he tugs. You’re pulled into his chest with a hard thud before you both go down with the momentum of it all, his body landing on top of yours on the hard, frozen earth.

“God damn it, girl, what the hell you think you’re doin’, huh?” Joel huffs out, arms pinning you down by the wrists as he breathes heavily right in your face. You grunt and struggle, squirming against the ground, but it only serves to help Joel push you into the frosty dirt even harder, his own grunts slipping out of his lips. 

“Like it when you struggle…” he says closer to your ear, leaning down. His lips turn into a chilling leer as he bares his teeth down at you. “But too bad we can't play a little longer, you’ll freeze out here. Get up,” he demands, pulling back and then fluidly plucking your body up off the ground as he stands. He hooks one of his arms through yours and begins drags you, your feet scrambling to keep up with how quickly he’s moving. 

You’d barely gotten far, just like he said you would - it’s only a short distance back to the cabin where he slams you against the wall, clutching one hand around your throat, not hard enough to put much pressure, just to show you he could, if he really wanted to. His body crowds closer as your back presses against the hard, unrelenting wooden logs adorning the outer frame of the cabin. The chill of the air settles in and you shiver, feet throbbing and chest prickling with goosebumps from the frozen air entering your lungs in large heaves. 

“Told ya, girl. You don’t need to go anywhere. All y’need is right here. I can do anythin’ I want with ya, can’t I?” He spits his words out angrily, eyes blazing. His head is cocked, looking down on you with scornful, yet hopeful eyes. His gaze travels to your chest, the way your shirt is torn to almost reveal everything there, eyes flickering hotly on the sight. Both of you stand with huffing breaths, chests heaving and letting out little cloudy puffs of air as your exhales hit the air. 

You nod, whimpering as his grip gets slightly tighter around your throat when you don’t answer right away. Your entire body trembles against him, afraid you’ll collapse any second as your knees buckle. His entire frame is pressed against you, keeping you upright, the warmth of him the only thing keeping you grounded and afloat right now.

“Thas’ right, it’s just me ‘n you out here. I’ll take real good care of ya, never let anyone hurt ya again. Ever.” A hand snakes around to your hair, smoothing it as he pulls your head off the wall, tracing his palm down as he pets you. “Now c’mon.” He yanks your entire body by the waist, holding you close as he hauls you back inside, pulling the door shut behind you two and locking it.

Joel brings you to his original destination before you’d run - the couch - and sits back, pulling you down with him, maneuvering you to settle on his lap so that you’re straddling him. His hands wrap around your back in a possessive, tight hold. You squirm a little bit, the feeling of him enveloping you like this making you hot, a sheen of sweat breaking out over your entire body.

“S-stop…” you mumble as you continue to struggle, his hands only seeming to get stronger the more effort you put in. You start to shove and push at his chest and one of his arms comes from around your back to catch your wrists in one fell swoop, pinning them against his chest. 

“Better knock that shit off quick,” he commands, grunting as he continues to hold your squirming body. “You got me offerin’ you everything I know you want, and all I ask is you do what I want, sweet girl. Be here w’me.” His tone is somehow cruel and hard but soft and caring at once, like he really believes that he needs to act this way to care for you right now.

“N-no, you’re hurting me,” you cry out. “You said you wouldn’t let anyone hurt me…” You think that maybe your reasoning will have any kind of effect on him, and he only smiles softly. It disarms you a little, your struggle starting to die out as you look at the hidden anger behind the smile, the desire to let out the hidden beast within him. 

“Let’s get one thing clear,” he says, letting go of your wrists to grip your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, squishing them together. Your hands fall limply to your sides, skin burning on your cheeks where he’s pressing in harder. “Only I can make you feel pain. Nobody else. Nobody’s gonna hurt you when I’m around. And I’m the only one who can make y’feel good too, understand? But if you’re not gonna be a good girl ‘n pull this shit, I can’t help what I’ve gotta do to get you back to bein’ good, hm?” His eyes track across your face, awaiting a response. 

You shake your head in small movements, squeezing your eyes shut and squirming one final time to try to slide off his lap. He sees your desperate eyes and his blood rushes a little hotter through him, tugging you harshly to situate you back perfectly centered on his lap.

“Please…” you whimper quietly, unsure of what you’re asking for now. To be let go? To be held tighter? For someone to just make it all okay?

Joel drops your cheeks from his tight grip and looks at you a little more sympathetically. “Okay, okay, c’mon, no more strugglin’ sweet girl. I’ve got you. Not gonna hurt ya. I just wanna help ya.” 

He leans forward and his lips find your neck, peppering wet, urgent kisses from just underneath your chin all the way down to your collarbone. It’s all too much, the emotions bubbling up as the adrenaline leaves your body. You shake a little, feeling the now all too familiar sting of tears behind your eyes that quickly manifest as tears that roll down your cheeks. Joel must sense a heave in your chest as you try to hold back your sob because he pulls his lips off of you and looks up to see your eyes shining as tears start to fall at a more rapid pace. 

“Shh, shh,” he coos. Both of his arms wrap around your back and pull you in so that your chest is flush with his. Your head drops instinctively to his body and you find yourself wrapping your arms tightly around his neck before burying your face in his chest. 

“Oh, c’mere, sweetheart. Let it all out… shh…” Joel says quietly, his palms splayed along your back, rubbing up and down in a soothing pattern. You finally break completely, finally let yourself sob. Your entire body is wracked with shaking heaves of breath each time you start another wave of tears. You bury yourself deeper into Joel’s chest, your face burning red hot with embarrassment, but unable to stop nonetheless. He’s warm and soft against you, the comforting fabric of his shirt soaking up the tears you pour out. 

Joel continues his soothing ministrations, his hands uncharacteristically kind and sweet, holding the back of your head against him now, like he’s encouraging this, even, this release of emotion from you. It makes you sob even harder to realize the only person you have in this world to comfort you is a man you met yesterday, one who hasn’t shown you a consistent side to himself since then. You don’t know how long you cry for, the last two weeks of pure desperation and the flood of emotions since meeting Joel have all collided into this one meltdown, Joel’s chest taking the brunt of it as you continue sobbing.

“Oh, that’s it, there we go…” he hums calmly, his chin resting on the top of your head as he keeps stroking along your back. You finally start to let up, choking back little sobs as they climb their way up your throat. 

“Jus’ breathe… there ya go, honey. Take some deep breaths for me now, okay?” Joel says calmly, continuing to chant little encouragements in your ear. You turn your face to lay the side of your cheek along Joel’s chest for a moment, a few remaining hiccups shaking your body as you sniffle. Your entire face feels puffy, like everything is two sizes too big for you now, cheeks wet and sticky as your tears start to dry. You slowly lift your head up and Joel quickly catches your face between his hands, thumbs going to work wiping your tears.

“Beautiful…” he murmurs as his eyes scan your flushed, glowing face. His lips turn into a gentle, small smile while he continues to wipe down your cheeks for a moment longer. “Now don’t that feel better?” Joel looks at you with concern now, his head tilting as his fingers continue to stroke along your face. You look so broken and fragile right now - the thought exciting him, sending a twitch beneath his jeans that he doesn't even have the mind to be ashamed of. You're close... so close to being his.

“I g-guess…” you murmur, unable to say if it really does feel much better. You feel lighter now, unburdened of the pent up emotions that had been weighing you down the last few weeks, but you still had to grapple with the fact that you were here now, with a dangerous man who seemed intent on keeping you here no matter what.

“Listen, darlin’...” Joel starts, a heavy sigh escaping him. “You’re too sweet for this world, you deserve to be protected… That’s all I’m tryin’ to say here, to do here. You wanna know what I thought when I first saw ya?”

Your eyes widen in curiosity, letting him go on.

“Thought that the universe sent me a gift. One look at ya and I knew you had to be all mine. Like y’were made for me, I swear it…” he gushes before his eyes go more serious. “I can show you how good it all feels, sweetheart, d’you understand?”

You shake your head slowly. “S-show me how good what feels?” you ask tentatively.

Joel leans forward, his lips brushing along your jawline then ghosting to that sensitive spot under your ear. His breath tickles you in just the right way and you shudder, hating that he seems to have pinpointed your weakness.

“Show you… just how good it feels… to submit to me.” His lips press onto your neck gently, his tongue poking out to taste the salt of your skin. “Show you what your place is here.” He sucks a little harder on your neck, eliciting a tiny sound from the back of your throat. “I’ll give you everything, you’ll see. I can see you want it, sweet girl. I can see how badly you need it.” His hips thrust upwards into yours on his last words, grinding against you slightly. Your eyes flutter shut when his lips kiss your neck again, rough but gentle, as Joel always seems to be. You squirm, your body and mind still mixing signals with each other, unsure if you’re fleeing or giving in. 

You consider his words heavily, the weight of them pressing down on your chest, nearly choking you. It makes your entire body tingle, the way he’d said the word submit, not even fully understanding all of what that would entail. But he’s right, you do need someone, you need something in your life that won’t fail you or run or disappear. You’re desperate for it at this point, needing it like you need air and water. You’ve seen nothing but loss and sadness and lived with a desperation to just be loved and cared for in the deepest ways. 

Maybe it was fate, like he said. Maybe you were meant to stumble into that clearing just at the right time, just when you so fiercely needed everything he’s offering to you. 

He pulls back and stares into your eyes, trying to read the look behind them, trying to gauge how you’ll respond as you sit silently. You feel tears building on the rims of your eyes again, quickly wiping them away before they can fall. 

“Let me show you, hm? How I’ll take care of you.” He thumbs your chin as he stares at you, a look of wonder in his eyes. “We need to get some more food in you, darlin’. Barely ate a thing yesterday.” His bargains immediately begin to work as you notice your stomach rumbling and empty again as if on cue. You nod slightly and he gives you a half smile.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos. “Now hold on tight.” Before you can question him further on why, he’s lifting you up off the couch, and your arms scramble to fling around his neck so you don’t fall backwards. Your legs wrap around his middle for extra support as he carries you to the kitchen table, settling you down on top of it now, legs dangling off the side as he lets go of his grip under your thighs. You find yourself reluctant to untangle your arms and legs from his warm, safe body, but he begins to pull away, heading for the fridge. You watch him with a frown as he bends down, shuffling a bit in the fridge before pulling out an item wrapped in a thin cloth. He opens a breadbox on the counter and reaches in, tearing off a chunk of bread before plating it and unwrapping the block, revealing some type of cheese.

“Sheeps cheese from Jackson. And some bread I made. Should tide y’over till dinner time, don’t you think?” he asks, bringing the plate over. He nudges your legs apart with his knee, a silent command that you follow mindlessly before he steps in between your thighs. One hand brushes along your thigh as he gets closer to you, eyes pasted right onto yours. His near glare is nearly too much to keep focused on as he grabs the piece of bread and brings it up to your lips. You pause, gaze faltering as you scan his face, a little stunned.

“Y’need some food, darlin’. Now eat.” Another command, another test to see how pliant you are, how willing you are to accept the entire package he offered you. You crane your neck forward enough to bite down on the piece, tearing some off as he holds it for you, never breaking eye contact with him. His eyes quickly flash back to a satisfied, pleasant look from the darkness that had threatened them moments ago.

“Good girl.” The words burrow in a little more, your thighs tightening against his, sending Joel gazing down with a smirk pulling at his lips. “Another,” he says quietly, holding the bread up to your lips again. You don’t falter this time, taking a quick bite and chewing as Joel smiles down at you, letting his thumb brush across your lips.

“You’re bein’ so good f’me now, what happened?” he says smugly, picking up the cheese and feeding you again. Each time he does it, you take the food more eagerly, Joel stepping closer until he’s pressed against the table, his hips as close as they can be to the apex of your thighs. You can sense the excitement radiating off of him now, the pure satisfaction that you’re not putting up a fight, accepting the care he’s pouring out onto you.

“Now you see how I can take care of you, darlin’? That’s just a small thing, honey, makin’ sure you get fed. Now tell me how much you appreciate it, hm?”

You feel your cheeks warming up at the blatant coaxing from Joel, the way the heat of his body presses so close to you now as his finger lingers on your lip after the last scrap of bread goes in.

“T-thank you, Joel,” you say, quiet and mousy as you avert your eyes downward.

“Oh, such a good girl.” He pets the top of your head down the side, stroking a gentle, long path down to your shoulder. “Feel better now that we got you full?”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Y-yes, thank you.” Mousy. Quiet. The way Joel seems to like, the way that you can’t help but be when he questions you like this, when his eyes search your depths so intensely. Your heart clenches at just how quickly he’s already worked his way in, has you saying just what you know he wants to hear. 

“Not bad for an old man baking bread, huh?” he asks, winking as he caresses your cheek. You tilt your head down, failing to conceal your little smile in time as a breathy chuckle makes its way out of you. You can sense the lightness fill Joel and the entire room as he notices, cocking his head and leaning closer to you.

“That a smile I see, darlin’? You think it’s funny to call me an old man?”

You shake your head, pulling your lips tight to suppress your smile. “N-no, you’re n-not…” 

“Oh, too sweet, ain’t you.” He wraps his arms around your middle, drawing you close again. “Y’know, you’re so pretty when you smile. This old man’d like to see more of that, y’know.”

Your smile falls quickly as discomfort settles in again at the way he’d cracked through your façade just now.  “Why haven’t you just… hurt me yet? Or done what you want with me and tossed me out?” you ask suddenly, blurting the words out before you can think twice about the possible consequences. 

Joel clicks his tongue and lets his lips part slightly, showing his surprise - a rare moment from such a guarded man. 

“That what you think this is?” he asks quietly, forebodingly. The pure control in his voice is a skill that you can tell he’s exercised many times. “Just want to squeeze the life outta you and toss your body out for the damn animals? Or fuck you senseless then turn you to the cold? You really think that little of me after I fed you, clothed you, helped you?”

He doesn’t sound quite angry, but something deeper that takes a minute for you to register - you’ve hurt him. Wounded his ego, made a dent in this brick wall of a man. A power you suddenly wish you didn't have over him.

“I don’t… I don’t know…” you admit. “You scare me.”

He leans forward, his dark irises going icy as he captures your rapt attention with this one single glance. 

“I should,” he spits out with a twitch of his lip. “But only if you give yourself reason to, yeah? I never want to hurt you, sweetness, never.” He goes softer, brushing a finger along your cheek, sending you trembling with a quivering lip. “Jus’ want you to be here w’me, lettin’ me take good care of you, and you do the same f’me. Somethin’ so beautiful here, you ‘n I…”

You sigh heavily, your body slumping in defeat. You’re exhausted, your nerves frayed and mind overstimulated from all of the inconsistencies, the back and forth with him. If what he says is true, if he wants to treat you kindly, give you all he’s promised, you know what he expects in response. You can feel it in the undertone of every word he says, every tiny movement when he touches you. He wants you to belong to him, to have you sucked so completely into his world there’s no going back. To have you fear him and look in wonder at him and worship at his feet and let him touch you and feel you and be completely yours and you be completely his. Your head spins, a dizzy sickness overtaking you at how utterly lost you feel right now. How badly you crave it and are equally repulsed by it. 

You dip your head down, eyes on your lap as you let the wave of churning fear wash over you.

“Eyes up, darlin’,” Joel reminds you, fingers tracing on your thigh to get your attention. 

“I… believe you,” you say, turning your gaze to him again. It’s not an answer yet, not a yes or no or anything at all. A fact.

“I know you do,” he says, a serious expression curling into a smile. “Only say what I mean. Are we clear, then?”

Joel’s face inches closer to yours, leaving just a few inches between you, now. “Y-yes,” you mutter, rapidly scanning over his eyes to try to read anything there but the inky darkness that seems to permeate above all else.

“Good,” he says proudly. “Now gimme a smile, darlin’. Need to see you lookin’ happier ‘round here.”

You pull your lips into a tight smile that seems to suffice for Joel as he carries on, moving until his lips hover just above yours. You notice yourself starting to tremble a little bit, shoulders tightening up, and Joel holds you close as his brows come together.

“You ever kiss a man like me, darlin’?” he whispers, licking his lips.

Your lips part, words failing you for a moment as you contemplate him. Your throat is suddenly dry and itchy as you glance down at Joel’s lips. “N-no…” You shake your head. “I haven’t… haven’t been with… anyone…”

Joel stills completely for what feels like minutes, his lips twisted to the side in a wry smile now. “You sayin’ you’re a virgin?” he asks bluntly, his hands naturally tightening their grip on your back, fingers digging in as they slide a little lower towards your waist.

Your face burns first, then your entire body is set aflame as embarrassment sets in. You know you shouldn’t be embarrassed, but you can sense Joel’s experience, almost having some strange need to impress him with your own, coming up empty. Your eyes look down, staring at the middle of his shirt before you nod once, blinking away a quick sting of tears at your sudden humiliation. 

“Christ,” Joel bites back all the things he wants to say for a moment and tuts as he notices your glassy eyes, scraping his fingers along your back. He tightens his hold on your waist and tugs you even closer so that your hips are flush with his. He moves his lips right next to your ear, making you shudder as they brush close enough to touch for a moment. “Had a feelin’. You have no idea… how turned on that makes me, sweet girl.”

Joel’s crude words have you gasping a little, a breath caught in your throat as you stutter out a sound to try to answer him. His lips press on your neck again, kissing a little more fervently down to your collarbone and then he pulls back, one hand going to your face to cup your cheek. 

“Such an innocent little thing… so sweet…” he murmurs. “‘S okay to touch me, y’know.” Your hands tingle with anticipation as he says that, but you don’t know how to move them, where to move them to, or if you want to touch him.

“I - I don’t…” You shake your head, and Joel captures one of your hands in his, holding it gently and rubbing his fingers along yours. 

“I got ya, I’ll show y’everythin’ you need to know, how’s that sound?” he says, gazing down at you intently, waiting with baited breath to hear your response. 

“You mean…” you ask, cheeks flushing as you’re unable to finish your sentence. Joel places your hand on his chest, spreading your fingers out to splay across the space between his pecs. He nods softly and you wiggle your fingers a little, feeling the planes of his chest, hard but warm underneath your palm. He glances down to where your hand explores a little more, running your fingers gently over to the right side of his pecs, then the left, and smirks. 

“I mean all of it, you sweet little thing. You don’t know how good y’could feel, do you?” Joel breathes a little heavier, his expression losing a bit of its controlled façade, that vague look of craving revealing itself in his eyes again. “I could give you so much… oh, you pretty thing, you need it.” He shakes his head in disbelief of everything he’s learned about you. “Untouched… so innocent…” he says more quietly, his hands finding their way back to your waist, thumbs hooking under the waistband at the back of your pants.

“I’m n-not sure… I-I don’t know -” you stutter as you feel his thumbs touch bare skin before one of his hands trails under your shirt, moving upwards. Your eyes blink a little slower, a flutter of your lashes as his calloused pads scrape along your skin, leaving a blazing trail that tingles all the way to the base of your spine. It pools quickly there, your core starting to heat up as his hand travels higher, the other playing at the hem of your shirt, starting to lift it. Your breath hitches, eyes going wider as your shirt moves, but you don’t squirm, don’t try to stop him.

“Y’do know. I can see you want it, sweetheart, look at how you respond to me…” He breathes in and out a little shakily. “Respond to a man takin’ good care of you…”

“W-what are you doing?” you ask, feeling your back almost halfway exposed to the air.

“Think you know what I’m doin,” Joel huffs a stony hearted chuckle. “Just wanna see how pretty y’are, take a peek, thas’ all.”

You shrink back a little, eyebrows pulled close together, shaking your head in small movements. “I’m scared…” you whimper finally, showing Joel the fear that’s been building deep inside of you. You don’t know how to want this, when to know your body is telling you it’s okay. You’ve somehow lost complete trust in any of your instincts, unsure of where along the way that happened. 

“I know, I know,” he purrs, still pulling your shirt higher. His lips dart down to your stomach, where your bare skin is starting to show, kissing sloppily along all the fresh skin he hasn’t seen yet. He starts speaking against your body, kissing in between his words. “Nothin’ to be scared of when you got me though, y’understand? You let me take care of you, and you’ll never worry a day in your life. Be my good girl, my everything. Just gotta trust me.” His nails dig into your back, a sweet, welcome pain, bringing you to the present. It’s too easy to lose yourself to his lips, his touch, his words. Your hand stays steadily placed on his chest, barely daring to move now.

You stare with your mouth open, and at your silence Joel drags his mouth up your chest and to your neck before looking at you expectantly.

“I don’t… know…” you murmur, less convincingly than the other times, an observation that Joel doesn’t fail to notice. He gathers the fabric of your shirt and tugs on the front hem of your shirt, pulling it taut along your back, drawing you closer to him as his lips sit merely an inch from yours.

“Think y’do know,” he says, greedy hands under the front of your shirt now, pulling the hem up. “I’ll be so gentle, honey…” He pulls your shirt up further and you drop your hand from his chest, allowing him the freedom of movement he needs to finish the job. 

“Okay…” you whisper, unsure if the two syllables even resonate far enough to reach Joel’s ears. You start to feel your legs trembling as you see his face registering your one word, the only thing he’d needed to hear. 

“Good girl,” he breathes out, exuding pure elation. “Oh, I’m gonna make you so happy, darlin’, gonna give y’everythin’.” He practically snarls as his hands get back to work on your shirt, lifting each of your arms to tug them through the sleeves, then tossing your shirt aside after it's over your head.

A growl tumbles out of his throat when he takes in your breasts, and you hunch your shoulders up a little more, your arm flying up to cover your chest now that it's exposed. Joel’s hand grabs your wrist, strongly wrapped around it as he tugs it away.

“Don’t have to hide ‘em from me, nothin’ to hide from me now,” he snaps, tossing your arm back to your side. His hands reach up to tease at the swell of your breasts, and you sit half in shock, letting his fingers send tingles across your skin as he explores your chest. He runs errant fingers down along the curves as he stares downwards. Your breath catches when he rubs his thumbs over your pebbled nipples, you back arching towards him as you gasp. 

“So soft ‘n pretty…” He grins, continuing to watch the way his hands work along your skin, a little more rough as he gropes your tits, rolling your nipples just to observe your reaction. The little pinch sends waves of arousal through your body, pooling deep inside of you, making you feel your underwear get damp again. You’re already panting, the sensations he’s bringing out in you so strong that you can hardly contain the little noises slipping out of you as he continues touching your chest.

“I - I’m…” you pant. “Joel…”

He pauses for just a moment, leaning closer and brushing his lips across your cheek. “Know you’re feelin’ good, aren’t ya?”

You nod dumbly, completely awestruck as he pinches your nipples again, sending your back arching and hips pressing into his. It’s maddening and confusing all in one, the way he’s able to work your body like this and make you feel a hot burning starting to blaze across your skin. 

“Pretty girl never had her tits touched, has she?”

You shake your head urgently, a breathy moan pulled out of your throat as he pinches and tugs a little harder on the hard buds. “P-please… stop… it’s too…” you whine, scrunching your face, unsure if you actually want him to stop. You feel wild, feral almost, the strangest sensation pulling at your insides as he tugs one more time.

Joel smirks in satisfaction, going back to caressing you more lightly, giving you some relief. One hand travels down to rest on your hip, the other up to your face to cradle your cheek in his palm. 

“You’re fun to play with, jus’ like I thought you’d be…” Joel muses as he touches your face. “You’re bein’ so good f’me, too, honey. Lettin’ me see you ‘n touch you.” He looks at you almost curiously now, like he’s studying you. 

“Think you deserve a little reward for bein’ so good for me, finally seein’ some sense.” He pauses, watching your face morph into a soft, intrigued look. “How’s that sound, hm?” he asks, pinching your cheek. 

You tilt your head at him. “A reward? Wh-“

“Exactly. If you act like a good girl, gotta reward ya for it.” Your heart beats a little faster as you take in his words, your thighs clamped as his voice comes out low and teasing. “C’mere, sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his fingers around your cheek and pulling you closer as he leans in. “You deserve to feel good, do you realize that? You’ve been denyin’ yourself somethin’ so good, but turns out it was so that I could show ya.”

“I - Joel - I don’t know…” you blurt out, your stomach twisting. The fact you can barely say anything but those same three words over and over is starting to frustrate you. 

“Don’t go gettin’ shy on me now,” Joel replies, his hand now cradling the back of your head. “You’ll enjoy this.”

He leans forward again, completely closing the gap between the two of you as he presses his lips to yours. It’s soft at first, testing you, and you blink once in surprise, not able to force yourself to press your lips back into his at first. But your body naturally starts to melt into him a little, his hand stroking against the back of your head calming you into submission. Your hands twitch forward, gently touching the bottom hem of his shirt and holding onto it just slightly. The feel of the fabric grounds you as you feel your lips press back into Joel’s, sending a wave of heat over your body. Your cheeks burn and your skin prickles as he groans quietly and pushes his lips a little more aggressively against yours before pulling back slightly. 

He looks down at you with a smirk. His hand digs into your waist a little harder, the possession he’s feeling clearly evident. 

“Tastes sweet, darlin’,” he says quietly before leaning back in, kissing you again. Your hand tugs a little harder on the bottom of his shirt and you feel yourself cracking under the pressure, like you’re about to burst into a million little parts like a piece of dropped china.  

His mouth opens and invites you to do the same, so you follow his lead. You’re frustrated, unsure of yourself, not understanding the way your body just moves with his, mirroring his motions. 

Maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. Maybe your first kiss is supposed to feel just like this. Maybe you’re supposed to be afraid and unsure and terrified yet intrigued in a way you can’t ignore. You wouldn’t know any different, after all, and your body already yearns for Joel to keep going, to press his lips harder onto yours, to feel his warm, soft lips all over you. You don’t even quite understand where the thoughts come from, it’s like your body is telling you without your mind having to get involved. 

You open your mouth the tiniest bit, allowing Joel to kiss you deeper. He pulls back just enough to suck a little on your bottom lip and you whimper and your brows scrunch. How… how could it feel so good?

As if to send you asking that question a hundred more times, one of his hands skates his fingers up your spine and you shudder, falling apart just as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You nearly gasp but find your own tongue hesitantly brushing against his. He hums quietly in satisfaction, continuing the motions of his tongue with small variations - darting into your mouth, licking your lip. 

You feel your entire being aching and warm now with the way Joel is pressed as close as he can, hips flush with yours. You want to move your own hips, to push them further and further, your body urging you on again without telling you quite what it’s doing. 

You yank your head back, completely breathless. Joel’s hand scrambles to the back of your head, holding it in place as he devours your lips again, not letting up just yet. 

“Wasn’t done w’you yet…” he mumbles before kissing you again, his tongue and lips more aggressive now as his hand slides to the back of your neck, gripping tightly. When he’s had his fill he tucks his head back enough to get a read on your expression, smirking. He sees the wonder in your eyes, the confusion, the struggle, but he welcomes it all, now. He knows he has you - his prize, his to keep, his to take. He can practically feel the ache of want oozing out of your pores now as you sit trembling slightly on the table, your soul and tits bared to him, equally enticing. A perfect paradox, he thinks.

You look so perfect - like a pure, innocent angel sent just for him. He knows you can be exactly what he’s looking for - someone to call his own, to protect and guide and keep close to him. His perfect girl.

He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent and musk like it’s the last time he’ll ever get a chance to before his lips rumble against you. 

“Lemme take you upstairs, show you how to be mine," he offers, in a way that's not an offer at all, but an instruction, a test.

He’s quiet and seductive with his words, a low, gravelly lilt to his voice that makes your head swim. You’re hazy, a practically drunk feeling coming over you now - cloudy and out of control of your own body. 

Before you can stop yourself, body buzzing and lips puffy and parted in need, you nod for him.

reminder i have no taglist now! follow @beardedjoel-updates and turn on notifs!

[myhimbomingi]

Shower Ecstacy

✧ pairing: song mingi x afab!reader ✧ theme: established relationship, idol!au ✧ wc: ~1.6k ✧ warnings: smut (18+ mdni), reader is fem forward, fingering (f. receiving), unprotected sex (wrap up ya'll!), creampie, petnames (f. receiving - baby, babe, love), fluff and after care at the end ✧ a/n: this is my first time writing smut! Idk what took over me but I had to get this out of my brain. please be nice ;-; I'm very shy and nervous about posting this but I hope ya'll will like it! maybe even love it? please share your thoughts and any feedback would be amazing so I can write better in the future!

“Babe! I’m gonna shower real quick!” You yell from your boyfriend’s bedroom. You both have been together all day to catch up after a few weeks from being apart. Your boyfriend had many schedules with no breaks in between so today was the first day you both could hang out. He is in the kitchen making some dinner and you just really needed to clean up. 

“Sounds good!” He yells back.

His voice brings a small smile to your face. You just can’t help it!

You walk into his bathroom from his bedroom and get all of your things set up placing fresh clothes on the counter with all of your skin care and hair products. 

You love his bathroom. You wish he could just ask you to move in so you can use it everyday! It’s a master bath size with heated floors, jacuzzi, towel warmer, and a beautiful walk in shower big enough to probably fit 3 people. The amount of times you both had sex together in that shower was beyond the number you can count on your hands and feet combined. 

You take off your clothes, throwing them in a pile in the corner, and turn on the shower making it nice and hot. The best thing about this shower is that it has one of those shower heads that makes it feel like you are showering in the rain. It soothes you so much, releasing all the stress from your body and mind. As you turned it on, you noticed something different. Instead of it being a fixed shower head, it’s now one of those you can take off from the wall. You walk in feeling as if the water is the same but now the shower head has some new features. To your surprise, there is a jet option which does peak your interest.

You look down and bring the shower head between your legs. You jump a bit with sudden sensitivity and pleasure. You try again and hold the strong stream much longer, already feeling the ecstasy flow through your body. You start to whimper, holding on to the wall for balance and placing your foot up on the ledge to be in a better position. 

You try your hardest to stay quiet but the water pressure was beyond anything you have ever felt. Your whimpers turned into loud whines. The sound of the water kept drowning out the sound in your head so you thinking you were still being quiet was quite the opposite. You end up sitting on the ledge with your legs spread wide like you are wanting something more than just the water pressure itself.

As you were getting close to your climax, you heard a knock on the bathroom door.

“Babe, are you okay?” 

Since you’re so close to hitting your climax, you couldn’t muster up any type of reply. You stayed quiet, trying to hurry before he notices but then the door opens. “Babe?”

He walks over to the shower to check in on you only to see you sitting with your legs far apart, holding the water jet right on your heat. 

“Mingi…..” You managed to say, desperately looking into his eyes. You didn't even move the jet away from between your legs, even with being caught like this. 

He looks at you amazed, a growing smile on his face. “I can’t believe you’re playing with your present before I was able to show you” Mingi bites his bottom lip, getting turned on almost instantly seeing you so vulnerable like this. 

You peak down his body, seeing his bulge getting bigger and thicker. You deeply sigh, moving your eyes back to his. “Come here then and play with me” You managed to say, showing in your face the amount of pleasure you're still giving yourself. 

Without a second to spare, Mingi takes his clothes off and gets in the shower with you. He kneels down in front of you and takes the shower head out of your hands. You whine at him for taking away your orgasm that was truly just seconds away from happening. He just grins at you and immediately starts to play with you with his tongue. He runs his hands up your body, squeezing and pulling at your skin with the pleasure he has from just tasting you. 

You thrust your hips up, aching for more already and running your fingers through his hair, pulling and tugging to get him even closer. 

He sucks on your clit just the way you like it and quickly slides in two of his fingers hitting your g spot instantly. You scream in ecstasy, causing another sly grin to form on Mingi’s lips. He pulls off your clit with a pop and takes out his fingers though he of course continues to rub and tease the inside of your thighs to keep your high. “Why are you stopping?” You whine at him, tears streaming down your face with a desperate expression.

“I need you to turn around” Before you even have a chance to stand up and turn around, Mingi pulls you up and puts you in position. Legs spread apart with your hands on the ledge to balance you. Mingi pumps his dick a few times and teases your cunt with it, moving it back and forth with his hips. 

“Here baby, pleasure yourself again. I need you to scream for me and only me” Just by how Mingi says this to you with his deep raspy voice, you know how turned on he is. You know how this is gonna go and you are beyond excited. Out of all the relationships you have been in, Mingi is the only one that makes love to you the way you like it. It’s always fun and you never end up unsatisfied. 

You take the shower head from him and align it so it hits your clit just right. You whimper immediately feeling the ecstasy flow through you once again. 

Mingi quickly pushes his whole dick inside of you, slamming into your g spot without a moment to spare. “God baby, you feel so good…” He moans and tightens his grip on your hips, already leaving marks and bruises on your skin that you love. “You’re so beautiful like this. Taking in all of me with such ease…” He slides his right hand up your body and to your neck, choking you just enough to add into all the amazing sensations you are feeling. Mingi starts to thrust faster in you, gripping his large hand tighter around your neck, almost reaching his own climax. “Keep playing with yourself baby…don’t move that jet…” His breath his heavy.

Tears continue to fall down your face as you moan your boyfriend’s name. “Mingi…I’m so close…please…” Just as you say this, you hit your climax. You scream, whimper, and moan all at once, your body taking a mind of its own with pleasure as your walls pulsate all around Mingi. You keep the water jet pressure on your clit so you can ride out your climax as long as possible. 

“Fu-” Mingi couldn’t even finish the curse under his breath as he reached his climax as well. He removes his hand from your neck and balances himself on your hips, releasing inside of you with sloppy thrusts, trying to continue his feeling of ecstasy. 

“Keep going baby. Please keep going…” Mingi groans in desperation, still feeling your walls tighten around him. You push yourself more into him but you just can’t handle your orgasm anymore. 

“I can’t…” you drop the shower head and almost collapse with how weak your body is now. Mingi, out of breath, holds on to you before you fall. “It’s okay, love.” 

Mingi lifts you up and sits you back on the ledge to relax from your play. “Do you still need to wash up?” He brushes some hair from your face behind your ear as you look up at him and nod, looking totally beat. He smiles with a small chuckle and without hesitation, starts to wash your hair and lather you up.”Sorry if I was a little too rough. I couldn’t help myself seeing you so vulnerable like that” 

You giggle and reassure him “No, it was all perfect. I truly didn’t intend for this to happen but…curiosity got the best of me. I’m really glad you ended up walking in”

Mingi smiles at you shyly “You know, I really love you a lot” 

“I know you do!” You laugh

“Hey don't laugh! I really do love you. I’m so lucky to have you, y/n.”

You place both your hands on either side of his cheeks and pull him in for a smiley kiss. He kisses you back with a smile as well. “Thank you for being mine” You say quietly on his lips. He just responds with a deeper kiss, pulling away after a few seconds. “Okay, let’s get out of here.” He says happily. 

After finishing what you first intended to do in the shower, Mingi wraps your towel around you before getting his own. “I may need to reheat the dinner I made for us” He chuckles

“That’s okay! All part of our fun spontaneous day!” You exclaim as you playfully shake his cute face from his chin. He laughs with you and wraps his arms around your waist.

“So, can I help you do your skin care before we go eat?” He asks as he kisses the top of your head. You look up at him with the biggest smile on your face. “I thought you would never ask!”

[mingis-orangejuice]

Love and Deepspace Boys with an MC that's good with children Part.1: Zayne

Summary: MC helps cheer up a little girl at Akso Hospital, she then asks Zayne to invite the "Pretty hunter who was super fun" to come back

a/n: these ones were so fun to write. tbh this one is my least favourite of them, but it's still good tho just, idk ... you'll understand once you read the other parts.

Genres/Warnings: just pure teeth rotting fluff

Word count: 908

Other parts: 2, 3, 4

Sitting in the waiting room at Akso Hospital you quietly stare out the window. The nurse walks in and informs you that Dr.Zayne might take a bit longer than usual since he’s currently in the OR and there are some complications. You thank the nurse for informing you and decide to take a little stroll around the hospital while you wait. As you slowly walk down the hall, you pass by an open room and hear a small voice say 

“Miss, can you help me ?” You stop in your tracks and look around to see where the voice is coming from. You see a little girl standing in the doorway of the room you just passed. She was wearing a pink hospital gown with a cast on one of her arms and holding a teddy bear and a picture book in the other.

You turn around and return to the room “Sure, what do you need help with, hun?” You both walk into her room. It looks like any other hospital room with two beds separated by a curtain divider. The little girl’s bed was the one near the window, but there was no one in the other bed.

“Can you read this to me? Mrs Jenkins usually helps me but she’s in surgery right now so I have no friends to help me read” The little girl points to the empty bed “She said when she comes back we’ll read 100 books together!”

“Wow, that sounds like fun,” You say as you take a seat on the little chair next to her bed. The little girl hands you the book and gets under her covers. “Are you and Mrs. Jenkins close?”

“Yeah she always reads to me every day and she’s even teaching me how to read.” the little girl stated happily

“Pretty soon you’ll be reading books to her then” You smiled.

The little girl looked at you with bright eyes “That would be so cool I hope she comes back from surgery soon” she sadly looked over to the empty bed

“I’m sure she’ll come back soon, happy and healthier than ever” you reassure.

Trying to get her mind off of a sad topic you opened the book and started reading. It was a cute picture book about dragons, and you made sure to do all the voices of each character while reading. The little girl loved it she was laughing the whole time. Once that book was finished the little girl got off the bed and picked out another book from her backpack she kept on the floor under her bed. “Can you read this one too?” You smile take the book and start reading. After that book, she kept asking you to read more and more and you kept agreeing to do so. 

You two had been reading for a while now. You had almost completely forgotten about your appointment with Dr. Zayne when you heard a knock on the hospital room door. You both look over to see Zayne wheeling in an elderly lady in a wheelchair. “Mrs. Jenkins!” the little girl excitedly screamed. She got out of her bed ran over to the lady and gave her a big hug.

Zayne looked at you “What are you doing here, shouldn’t you be in the waiting room awaiting your appointment?”

Before you could say anything the little girl chimed in “Dr.Zayne, This lady was helping me read, she’s really nice, please don’t be mad at her.”

Zayne can’t help but smile at the little girl’s words, as annoyed as he was with you he couldn’t deny that seeing you in such a maternal role was too cute. “Ok I won't scold her for almost missing her appointment since you asked so nicely” he ruffled her hair and smiled.

A few days later Zayne gives you a call “Are you busy now, I need you to come to Akso.”

“What's wrong? Did something happen?” you were already fumbling to get your shoes on, thinking that there might be some kind of emergency.

“No, no nothing’s wrong. Remember that young girl you read to a few days ago? Her name is Ramona. She was telling all the other kids in the pediatric ward about the pretty lady who read to her and was super fun, I assume she was talking about you. She asked me if I could invite you again, and I said I'd see what I could do.”

“Wow, I’m flattered. Of course, I'll come. I’ll be there soon” You hang up and start to get ready.

Once you get there Zayne leads you to a room with about 10-15 kids in it. You greet the kids and sit down in the rocking chair Zayne had prepared for you, Ramona hands you a book. It was the story of the 3 little pigs and the big bad wolf.

“This one’s my favourite” Ramona expresses as she sits down on the floor with the other kids

“Hmm it seems like there's a lot of characters in this book, I don’t think I can do all the voices by myself. Maybe we can ask Dr.Zayne to help out.” you look to the children and then to Zayne who had been standing in the doorway. 

“Please Dr.Zayne !” the kids begged

He looked surprised for a moment. He looked at you saw your little mischievous grin and chuckled. He couldn’t say no to you or those kids. He reluctantly walks over to where you’re sitting and takes the book from you. “Alright if we’re going to do this then let's do it right” 

As the day went on, he felt his heart swell watching how sweet you were with the kids. He knew you were the one already, but he was so enamoured by you after this he could have proposed on the spot.

[crystcrm]

i share ur struggle.. i ACHE for gepard or welt content so hopefully i could request for something like that? im js gonna throw a bunch of ideas and you can choose whichever

relationship hcs (what he’d be like, how does he show his love etc)

sleeping together (take this whichever way you want)

cooking together in the kitchen (im a whore for this stuff idk why😭)

bedroom hcs (kinks, fav positions, literally anything i need it so bad)

KISSING IN THE SNOW W GEPARD😞

anon i hope you know this ask gave me like 5000 braincells. like suddenly i am THINKING. it's so insane how one little ask full of random blurbs gave me so much life to write even just the smallest things.

literally welt and gepard are my two faves rn, i'm fr just waiting for jing yuan to come out. jing yuan my beloved <3<3

but anyway, as for this little ask, i think we'll ease into the hsr content with some fluff ( i am all due for it anyway, i have Not been writing and i also need the fluff because my god does life hit hard ) so sit tight >:)

love and cherishing you ♡ ;; various x gn!reader headcanons

content;- sfw , fluff , headcanons list , how some hsr boys show their love for you ♡♡ , overall just really fluffy because i need toothrotting stomach ache inducing head swirling sweet fluff sometimes... , nothing about getting together but just general hcs on what they'd be like in a relationship , reader is nooooot...? the trailblazer but could possibly be interpreted as such if you squint

characters inc:- welt yang , gepard landau ( includes post-belobog arc content, not extremely spoilery but take note that i chose after the jarillo-vi conclusion to open up more opportunities >:3 )

together with welt yang . . .

welt has lived life longer than perhaps anyone on the express, being from another world and used to living as the first ( second generation ) herrscher of reason, a herrscher that sided with humanity. he didn't expect to get sucked into another adventure, one where he'll meet many companions, see unbelievable sights or even... fall in love.

he's an old soul, yet his heart still has a grand passion for what he does. the fire within him burns, and perhaps, you stoke the flames. a motivation unlike any other to show you the wonders of the galaxy— of every world.

his love is not the most openly shown, an old man can be embarrassed sometimes. especially in the face of his family of the astral express. his affections for you are for you two only. his touches, his words, the little things that make sparks fly are all special and meant for your ears and eyes only. be it in the privacy of his room, or late nights when everyone else is fast asleep, he'll always find a way to make his love for you known when nobody else is looking.

time together with you is always time well spent. he enjoys it perhaps just a little more than going on adventures with everyone. you could be doing anything, and he wouldn't mind simply sitting in silence together with you. it's comforting, relaxing. it's moments like these where he gets to unwind with you. it's essentially a recharge— he doesn't even have to hold you ( but if you'd like that, he'd be more than happy to ).

he used to be an artist— an animation storyboard artist. his skills on paper would definitely outmatch the rest of the crew. he already likes to have his experiences captured in little drawings in his notebook. well, you happen to be one big, long lasting experience. one that he can't wait to see what more comes while experiencing it. you swear that you can catch him gazing at you every other day, and you always see his pencil moving across the papers in his book. inside are sketches of you in all your beauty, how he adores you, even complete with little notes about the things you like.

he wishes to show you the world, all there is to be seen across the entire galaxy. he will be there, to guide you, to accompany you. it's not that he doesn't trust the rest of the crew, but really, this is the closest thing to a date you've ever gotten. taking in the sights of new worlds, creating new memories together, and maybe getting tossed in a bit of trouble along the way. sure, it may be tiring or troublesome, but he wouldn't want to face it with anyone else.

those that come across him know him as welt yang, but this is the name he has inherited. he doesn't tell it often, perhaps, but at least you know him. the real him. he's not just welt to you, but also joachim. it is something he entrusted to you, who he is, who he once was, who he shall become— everything about him.

he adores you, and all your entirety. you are like a burning star in the galaxy above, one that burns with him.

together with gepard landau . . .

gepard, captain of the silvermane guards is a busy, busy man. between his duties as captain and his daily life, he does his best to find time for you. his lack of charm is exactly what makes him charming, some may say. he's no nonsense, stubborn, "famously uncompromising" ( as his sister claims ) with an unmatched loyalty. it sounds horrendous, but perhaps that's exactly why you love him.

you tell him he should prioritise his duty first and foremost, he is an important figure in belobog, after all. and he does, he stubbornly commits to it. even if he can see in your eyes that you're hesitantly letting him go again. it's in these rare moments that he gives you a small, warming smile and a gentle embrace— he tells you that he'll do his best, for the preservation of belobog, for its people— and most importantly, you.

bothering him on patrol isn't one of your favourite activites, there are definitely more enriching things out there, but you still do it from time to time. usually, it's when the nights are a little colder and you can't seem to sleep. it's the same old thing, each and every time. he tells you you should get home, but not after a quick walk together with him. you'd chat about the little things, and he'd even shyly try to hold your hand in such a moment. after that, he personally escorts you back to your residence, and never forgetting to leave without a kiss goodnight. it may be a simple kiss on the back of your hand, or you might get up for a quick kiss on the cheek. you don't know what you do to him.

gepard doesn't strike me as a type that knows a lot in this area. he was born and raised as a noble child, and then went straight into becoming a protector of the city he grew up in. he'd feel a little flustered at a few things, the ideas and thoughts that come to him while together with you. he's even more embarrassed as he goes to his sister for advice on how to deal with such emotions. he reads books, fiction of romance that he does best to turn into your reality. it's not perfect— he's still clueless on what's a really good date— but he's always trying harder just for you.

it's not often that he gets free time, but once he does, he's quick to seek you out... after his sister of course. for many good reasons, actually. other than the usual check in with his sister he loves so dearly, she is more helpful than most others despite her teasing. serval is a big source of support in his relationship with you, not to say you two can't handle it yourselves. he's just rather clueless about love as a whole sometimes, and she's there to give him a little nudge in the right direction. thanks to her, gepard brought you flowers once, and he does it every so often.

never underestimate the lengths he'd go for you. he may be constantly out there in the front lines trying to combat the antimatter legion and the fragmentum, and he may be busy with training the guards or some other silvermane business, but he would always keep you in mind. you're part of his motivation, and you've grown to be the biggest part of it. you could tell him it's nothing important, if you ask for something, like a favour or likewise, but because it's you, he'll put it right at the top of his priorities. you are his priority.

dates are difficult, especially when you're captain of the guards. walking around with him attracts more attention than any other thing, but it doesn't stop him from inviting you out. the luxuries of belobog would be easy for him to indulge in, as a landau and as captain, but truly, simply spending time with him is enough. your favourite dates are ones where you freely walk aimlessly in the day, perhaps after a bite to eat. fresh snowfall is light upon the city streets, unlike the eternal freeze. you find it hard to resist temptation, letting yourself be swept off your feet for a sweet kiss in the everlasting winter snow.

gepard landau has an immense lack of charm. he's stubborn, he's uncompromising, and maybe even a little dense or a little blunt. but the brighter side of these qualities always show around you. he'll find a way to see you, and he won't rest until he has. his lack of knowledge in this department has him cutely flustered from time to time, but also has him doing unknowingly romantic things. he loves you, and he wants you to know that.

[ranhaitanisgf]

hi hana! congrats on 2k followers once again and if it’s not too much of a bother, i’d like to have a mikey fluff/crack “oblivious best friends” & “stuck together” scenario/hc (whichever works for you) where it was after school hours and everyone in toman is looking for mikey ☺️ i really hope this combination is something new skjdjsjss thank you in advance!! 💕

—manjiro [mikey] sano // oblivious best friends // stuck together

☆ ˎˊ˗ KATIEEE hiiii im sryyy i took sooooo long for this my disappearance from tumblr messed things up 😔 idk how i did on this tbh !! i hope youve been doing well !! and also ur idea was so cutee wahh i hope i did it justice !! xoxo

☆ ˎˊ˗ gn!reader

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 1.5k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

“...mikey.” 

“yeah?” 

“how long are we gonna stay here?” the boy in front of you hummed, thinking for a moment as he swirled the lollipop in his mouth. 

“until they find us.” you sighed at him, leaning your head back against the wall. you could hear rapid footsteps in the hallway, people running around yelling mikey’s name, unaware of the fact that he was sitting in the classroom they just passed by. 

he hadn’t given you much explanation when he grabbed you and pulled you into the classroom, though you think you have a basic idea of what was going on; all you could say was, it was very mikey.

“so, what exactly is the point in hiding from everyone?” 

“it’s funny!” he grinned, crunching down on his lollipop. “but also ‘cause the doors in this classroom are broken; they only open from the outside, so i’ve been waiting for someone to come by and open them from the outside.”

“huh?! why’d you drag me in here then? wait, how did you even do that?” 

“i dunno, but i just saw you and it was boring here by myself.” he shrugged, not seeming to think it was a big deal. “aaand you’ve skipped out on the last couple of meetings, so i missed you.” he pouted, a childish look on his face. “where were you?!” 

“mikey, i told you weeks ago that i would be busy studying for exams…don’t you remember?” you sighed. “i even texted you before all the meetings that i wouldn’t be coming!” 

“whatever.” mikey said flippantly, the same pout still on his face. “you owe me snacks for not showing up.” 

“okay, okay, just stop making that face.” you said, pulling at mikey’s cheeks. “you’re making me look like a bad person.”

“oi, stahppp, it hurtsss!” he grumbled. you eventually relented, sighing as you looked around the classroom. 

“even being here with someone else is boring. can’t we just leave and go get food?” 

“but i’m testing them! they have to know how to find their leader!” mikey insisted, crossing his arms. 

“but you’re literally hiding from them on purpose. how are they supposed to find you?” 

“they can figure that out themselves!” 

“right…” you answered, giving up on trying to make him see reason. you really were hungry; you hadn’t eaten since you had that milk bread from lunch, which wasn’t a whole lot of food. “if you’re insisting on keeping us here, then you’re gonna pay for my meal after this.” 

“ken-chin will pay for it, but okay!” 

“no, you’re going to pay for it. i don’t care if you’re broke; you deserve to have no money for keeping me here.” 

“hey, that’s so mean!” 

“yeah, and you’re being mean right now by not letting us go so i can eat. i ought to just-” you stood up from where the two of you were sitting to avoid being seen, “-let them see me and then tell them where you are!” mikey’s eyes widened, motioning for you to sit back down, but you stood firm, not moving from your spot. 

“oi, sit down! they have to find me on their own!” 

“no! this is ridiculous! i’m hungry and i shouldn’t have to be kept at school any longer-agh!” while you were talking, mikey grabbed your hand, pulling you down with a surprising amount of strength, making you lose your balance and topple over. 

“urgh, what the hell-...” you suddenly cut off your words when you realized the position you were in. 

because mikey had been sitting right next to your standing form, you had fallen right on top of him, the space between your faces being very small as the two of you stared at each other. the space between your bodies was even less, and you swore that he could feel your quickening heartbeat from how close the two of you were, (you didn’t even want to think about how you could feel the warmth from his body right now). 

you knew that you should probably be clambering off of him right now and bonking him on the head for pulling you down so hard, but for some reason, your body was frozen, not knowing what to do. on the one hand, you knew you probably shouldn’t be staying here for so long, but on the other hand, you wanted him to do or say something, anything, to make you think that he wasn’t just an oblivious teenage boy, (how could he have not noticed your feelings this whole time?!)

“(y/n)...” he whispered, his breath fanning against your cheeks due to your close proximity. 

“y-yeah?” 

“can you get off? you’re kinda heavy.” at his words, you immediately scrambled off of him, your heart beating a million beats per minute, this time due to embarrassment. as soon as he got up, you slapped the back of his head, making him yell a loud ‘ow!’. 

“that’s what you get for pulling me so hard, asshole! i don’t get why you’re so adamant about staying here!” you yelled, feeling more shame and embarrassment than anger. you leaned your head back against the wall, wondering why you thought that anything would be different this time. 

it’s not normal for best friends to have feelings for each other, so why were you mad at him? 

this time, you felt the silence between the two of you to be unbearable, almost enough to make you scream with frustration. you didn’t though, instead choosing to just have your own internal monologue until you could make it out of the classroom. 

“(y/n)-chan? what’s wrong?” 

“nothing, i’m just tired as fuck. wake me up when we get found or whatever.” you murmured, laying down on the floor, not caring about the dust and first getting on your uniform. maybe if you laid down like this, the earth would swallow you up and save you from this embarrassment. 

you weren’t sure how much time passed like that, though you were sure that the silence filled the room for quite a while, only being interrupted by draken and takemichi’s yells in the hallway. suddenly, you heard some shuffling, wondering if maybe mikey was going to give up and let the two of you finally be found. 

you’d already gone too long pretending to be asleep, so even though you wanted to see what mikey was doing, you didn’t make a peep even when you could feel him getting closer to you. 

what is he doing? 

your question was answered just a moment later when you felt his hand on your cheek, brushing some of your hair out of your face, (you were hoping that your cheeks weren’t getting flushed right about now). 

“hm, i was able to hold back this time, but you really test me sometimes, (y/n).” after that, you felt his hand pull away, leaving you in much more confusion than before. what in the world was he talking about? 

a few minutes later, you heard him opening the window to the classroom, yelling for draken. when he arrived, he started chewing mikey out for disappearing for so long, which was when you decided to ‘wake up’. 

“hmm, you finally decided to give up that little stunt, mikey?” you asked, standing up and rubbing your eyes to make it seem like you were actually sleeping. “took you long enough.” 

“it got more boring sitting there since you fell asleep.” mikey answered, shrugging his shoulders. he kept the same lighthearted expression on his face as he started to get another earful from draken.

“you did this on purpose?! we’ve got stuff to do!!” he yelled, his face twisted in frustration. “it’s been a whole goddamn hour!!” 

“sorry, sorry.” 

you walked away from the two over to the door, trying to open it just to see. much to your surprise, it opened up, not showing any sign of the locked issue that mikey had claimed it’d had earlier. 

when you looked over at him, all he did was shrug, a smug smirk on his face. 

“you little shit! it was open this whole time?! i’m gonna actually kill you this time!!” you yelled, running at mikey. he swiftly dodged you and went out the door behind you, running into the hallway to get away from you. 

“catch me if you can!!” you heard him tease in the distance, fueling your anger even more. 

“when i catch you, it’s so over for you!!” you shouted, sprinting out of the classroom after him. 

as you chased him, he looked back at you, laughing and saying something that you couldn’t catch. despite the fact that you were acting so mad at him right now, you couldn’t help but admire how the light from the sunset reflected off of his skin, highlighting his playful smile and blonde locks bouncing in the air. 

you supposed that this was fine, for now. 

(mikey ended up paying for your entire meal out of his own pocket, leaving him with 200 yen to his name).

[artdcnaldson]

UGH ok twist my arm i guess!!!! as a little treat!!!! dr donaldson <3

so gynecologist art, yall, doctor donaldson. cat and i were in the dms TRUST. so art decides that he should probably have a backup plan, just in case tennis doesnt work out after college. he doesnt expect to actually need it because his tennis is going great, hes on track to go pro very soon. but JUST in case, he decides to use his good grades to study some kind of medicine. initially he had thought some kind of sports medicine, if nothing else then it would be good knowledge for himself down the line.

but after his grandma passes (not of a stroke) and he hears his family discussing how if only her gynecologist had paid better attention and taken her serious she might have lived longer (idk anything about medicine but probably some kind of cancer yknow?). anyway he sees that a his motivation and picks gynecology as his field. patrick absolutely teases him to death over it, "you're gonna be a pussy doctor? what so you just get to look at naked chicks all day? i'd quit tennis for that too". again he's not really expecting to need it, so he doesnt take it too hard. but he's kind of obviously the only guy in the course, and the girls all think he's kind of weird for wanting to pursue a field of medicine that isnt relevant to him. but after him telling the story about his grandmother they all coo and comfort him that its okey and they understand.

he does well in all his classes because he does truly find it interesting and wants to do his best to help women. but as he's getting ready to go pro, he has an accident on the court, as he's going to return a long ball he twists his ankle and takes a bad fall. his recovery is good, but his ankle will never be as it was before, and his chances of the big tennis dream slowly dies. and ultimately he's just unwilling to spend his life as a struggling tennis player, when he could be making a real difference.

now that he has his own practice he likes to tell that story to his new patients, especially the ones who seem tense with the fact that he's a man, who will be examining their most private area. it does well to ease their minds. hes been doing this for many years now, he enjoys the work, and the women who come to him are happy with his work. his patients are typically slightly older women, as they're not as phased by a male gynecologist, whereas most younger women arent as comfortable with the idea. he doesnt mind that, in fact he understands perfectly. honestly hes grateful for it, he fears the day he might have a patient whos just a bit too attractive and he'll have to struggle to keep his cool.

that day unfortunately comes sooner than he had hoped. its your first appointment with him after having him recommended by a friend, you had contacted him and told him how you were very unhappy with your current doctor and wanted to try something else. not having had a male doctor before, except like your dentist, youre very nervous for the appointment. not knowing what to expect from it, or how seriously he will take your issues. out of nervous habit youve gotten ready for the appointment as if it were a date rather than a clinical exam. showered, shaved, cute panties, hair and makeup done. its all totally unnecessary, but the moment you see him for the first time you thank the divine for looking your absolute best. GOD hes so hot. far too hot to be a doctor. lets just say that he wears scrubs because theyre so sexy, and they truly are criminally flattering on him. he sits on his chair, typing away as youre lead into the room by an assistant. as soon as he looks up and asks you to have a seat with him, you both know youre screwed. the tension is immediately noticeable as you discuss your reason for coming in, just a routine check because your last doctor wouldnt do it thorough enough and didnt listen enough to your issues.

he leaves the room while you strip off and leave your clothes in a neat little pile, panties clearly on top in the hope that he'll see them and think theyre cute. and he does, in fact his eyes keep fluttering to them as hes getting ready for the exam. he has to adjust his chair a little lower in the hopes that you cant see that he's getting hard. meanwhile youre going from soaking to sopping wet as you watch him put on the latex gloves, snapping them against his wrist.

he can tell that you're tense, but as its your first appointment with a male gynecologist, he assumes thats the reason, and not the fact that youre mortifyingly wet. he tries to calm your nerves by telling you what he'll be doing, he sits right in front of you on his chair and tells you how first he'll examine externally, just checking for anything irregular. then an internal exam with the same purpose, and then finally a physical exam where he will just have to feel your tummy as well as your pelvis to ensure everything is as it should be. totally routine stuff, nothing out of the ordinary, if anything hes far more attentive and careful to make sure youre comfortable. but the way hes saying it, his voice and the way he's looking at you has you clenching your thighs shut and trying to keep yourself from making a puddle on the table.

as he gathers his tools he asks you to place your legs in the stirrups, he sees you struggling a little to get your right leg properly in place, he gently grabs your leg and helps you place it properly. goosebumps cover you leg as he pulls his hand away again. you can feel how wet you are as youre not totally exposed to him, dripping wet, youve been less wet when hooking up with people. this is just from interacting with him briefly, really its embarrassing. hes so sweet asking if everythings alright, and if he can do anything to help you relax. and after squeezing your eyes shut and holding your breath for a second you finally get out that you just feel like youre really wet, and youre not youre not sure why, this doesnt usually happen. hes so sweet, trying to reassure you, telling you its perfectly normal. its a natural response from your body, if anything its a sign that youre healthy!

hes not lying, he really does mean what hes saying, it is good and it is normal. but hes never seen anyone be quite this wet during an appointment in his office. youre soaked, its practically dripping onto the table and forming a puddle. if he was sporting a semi under the table he might have referred you to a different doctor. but youre so pretty he cant help himself.

he really does try his best to stay professional and not let his attraction crack through and distract from his work. but fuck youre so tight around his latex covered fingers when hes doing the exam. and you only squeeze down tighter when he tries to reassure you, tell you youre doing good. its making it hard for him to focus on the task at hand. it takes everything in him to keep his hands from drifting and moving to find those sweet spots inside of you. he doesnt have to deprive himself for long tho as he accidentally brushed against your gspot. his cheeks turn bright pink as he hears a tiny moan escape your lips. and youd been so good at keeping them in the whole time too. but this one couldnt be contained. he stays good, doesnt say anything, just carries on with his work. but he almost lets out a moan of his own as he sees the ring of cream gathered around his gloved fingers.

he takes his work very seriously and he doesnt take the idea of losing his medical license due to malpractice lightly, so he wouldnt be just giving in to his urges. his resolve breaking doent come lightly, its a big deal to him. he goes home that day and jerks off in the shower while thinking about you, he knows exactly what your pussy looks like, what it feels like, how soaking wet you got for him. he cums again in his bed and humps his mattress while dreaming about you. he wakes up and decided he needs to see you again. asks his assistant to set up another appointment with you. when he asks what for, he stutters and says something about needing to do some tests just to be sure of something. hes lying, obviously, but he needs to see you again. he cant stop thinking about your tight little cunt...

-🐞

ladybug your mind amazes me... <3

He can't risk medical malpractice, and he really is a good doctor, he loves his work, he wants to help people. And he's really never, ever reacted this way to a patient before, but god, he can't get you out of his mind.

So maybe he schedules a follow up for a week later. Maybe his heart is racing and his palms sweat when he walks into the examination room and sees you in the little fabric gown, hands in your lap, worrying your lip between your teeth.

He feels like a nervous teenager on a first date, not a fucking healthcare professional.

He listens to you speak about your concerns, walks through your test results from the week prior. Everything looks good, he says. Nothing felt abnormal, your body is working just how it's supposed to. Do you have any questions for me?

You shake your head, sweet and shy, aching for an excuse to get his hands on you again, but running low on things you can ask for.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day eighteen: cockwarming kink

>>> idk why shiggy and cockwarming are like peanut butter and jelly to me...like i only have cravings for him when i'm deep in the caverns of my mental illness but...this is yummy? and i don't think it counts as cockwarming but shut up!!!

>>> starring: tomura shigaraki x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: cockwarming, established relationship, degradation, exhibitionism, fingering (fem receiving), p n v, creampie, implied multiple rounds. >>> wc: 3.1k >>> event masterlist

it was league tradition at this point. not even when the members were scattered to the winds to gather intel and work official villain business did the group miss weekly movie night. some members may or may not be there some weeks, sometimes you were all together, coupled off into platonic and romantic pairings to view whatever your leader picked out. whenever you were there, he let you pick, but it’s been quite some time since you’ve been back home. shigaraki regrets sending you so far out of reach. this assignment had taken you much longer than he would have liked, way longer. correspondence had grown slower, each message shorter than the last. you were tailing hawks to make sure he was trustworthy and it seems it was giving you a great deal of trouble. 

or maybe hawks was loyal to the heroes like shigaraki suspected and had gotten to you with his agenda, turning you into a double agent. well, no, that couldn’t be it. if that were so, you would do a better job of acting normal to keep him off your case. did you need help? no, again, he knows you would just tell him that too, so what was going on with you? were you mad at him? had he done something before you left? 

he thinks back a couple of months—the unbearable length of time you’ve been gone—trying to think of any reason you could be short with him. you didn’t have any big fights, he didn’t forget any anniversaries or special occasions, and he went easier on toga like you asked him to. the only possible thing he can think of is the fact that it was saturday, aka movie night, when you left— and he fell asleep watching the movie you picked—meaning he didn’t get to spend your last night with you or give you any goodbye-and-good-luck dick. he sighs aloud at the realization. you were absolutely petty enough to hold that against him, but he hoped you wouldn’t prolong your mission just to prove a point. 

this is the first time since the league started this little routine that he’s wanted to call it off. the rest of the league missed you too, if not because you were their friend, it was because tomura had grown so intolerable and irritable in your absence that they were begging nightly for your return. when saturday rolled around, and you still weren’t back, they watched their fearless leader sulk around like a kicked puppy all day. each member dreaded the nighttime. shigaraki was prone to throwing tantrums when he saw any of the league members get too friendly with one another in your absence, so it looks like they’ll all have to sit spread out for movie night. 

was he to be held accountable for the things he said and did while busy wallowing in his grief? some may say yes, but he was a strong believer in live and let live—you were certainly his better half. but you’ve been away for close to three months, and your effects are wearing off. he was incredibly snappy as he set the theater room up, the shitty little projector dabi stole was clearly running on its last legs. he was in no mood to pick out a goofy movie, not whenever he was wondering if you were even coming back at this point. he barked at twice to find something to watch—and the man was heavily influenced by toga’s opinions, so suicide squad seemed to be the answer. what a trash pick, he thinks. it’s why he’s in charge, and why only your opinions can influence his own. you would never have allowed suicide squad. 

that’s not the only reason tomura misses you, of course. he misses working on your own missions together, decorating the hideout to make it feel more like a home, the way you’d sit with him as he plays video games in his room, or how you two would cuddle as you’re falling asleep with his glove-clad hands all over you, and of course, your drooling pussy sucking him in over and over again. it’s been nearly three months since he’s gotten to see your face, inhale your familiar scent, or get anywhere close to cumming. he can’t even use his own hand anymore—you’ve spoiled him. he’s always been a shitty sleeper, too, but your body in his grasp was the magical cure—so of course he’s been getting next to no rest without you. he’ll never send you on a mission again. 

when he hears several bustling voices and a relieved “thank whoever put us on this flaming pile of shit” from dabi, he knows you’re home. mr. compress and kurogiri escort you into the movie room, where he waits for you. tomura nearly shouts, either at you for being gone so long or in relief that you’re finally home, he’s not sure. the corner of his mouth slides up in a reserved grin, but everyone can see the light return to his eyes. god forbid a world where you didn’t come back to him. 

“sorry i’m late for movie night everyone! i missed you!” you sing out to greet the room, but you’re only looking at your exhausted boyfriend. though he always carried a certain tired stress, he looked worse than usual, and you know that he hasn’t slept through the night since you’ve been gone. you’re on the love seat next to him immediately, jumping all over him and tightening your arms around his neck. his grin spreads, and kurogiri plays the movie to keep everyone else from having to watch in on your reunion and sickening love fest. 

he slides his arm around your back, humming sleazily in your ear. “finally. took you long enough, babe.” he huffs, taking that deep inhale of your sweet smell and sighing his relaxation quietly. his mood is relieved just by holding your frame and feeling your soft hair tickling his cheek. you giggle and sigh too, and he feels the weight of your body slump into his. 

“don’t i know it, was beginning to think you hated me for sending me out there for so long.” you pout, releasing him from your grip to gain sight of his face. he rolls his eyes at you, shaking his head with a tiny amused grin donning his features. 

“you’ll never leave this hideout again. i missed you.” he pinches some of your hair between his fingers and curls the piece around his digits as he looks over your face, gazing at your soft eyes and gentle lips, full cheeks, and everything else he’s missed for what feels like forever. you hum in intrigue at the ‘threat’ and kiss him. you can’t afford to go too hot and heavy with all your friends in the room, but you wanted your boyfriend to know you missed him just as badly as he missed you. your nights weren’t spent sleeping comfortably and every day you felt more and more lost without tomura’s logic keeping you on task. you nibble at his bottom lip, laving your tongue over him with a little moan. he grins, you’re the extrovert, but he’s not shy about making you noisy in front of the others. you feel him smile against your lips before he pulls away, trailing kisses over your cheek until he can bite the lobe of your ear. you gasp sharply, and he’s tossing a blanket over your hips for modesty’s sake. 

you smirk knowingly, lifting your skirt over your ass as the blanket falls in your lap. “oh so my little slut did miss me..” he whispers, licking over your jawline as he reaches under the blanket. the pads of his first two fingers swipe over you panties, tracing the outlines of your lips with a nasty little grin. he can feel your wetness pooling against the fabric already, your desperation making his cock rise against his sweats. he casts his eyes around to make sure no one’s watching, but he’s trained his league better than that. he slides his hand under your waistband, finding your clit automatically. you feel your stomach flutter in response to his touch, the fabric of his mostly fingerless gloves scratch against the inside of your thigh as he presses his sinewy finger in circles around your bundle. you fall against him, head rolling around on his shoulder within seconds. 

he knew you like he built you himself, and he knew that after a trip away—the both of you were insatiable—but you were all too easy to work up. you would tell him all about the mission later. there would be plenty to catch up on after he gives you all you’ve been missing here lately. tomura would be lying if he said that watching you stifle your noises and wiggle against the cushions didn’t affect him, his dick was crying for you. fingering you in front of the league was one thing, fucking you was another. but his body was growing too hot to bear, and he could tell from the need in your eyes that even having him inside you would relieve some of your ache. that should be fine, they wouldn’t look at you no matter what—they knew better than that, but he still didn’t want them hearing your sweet sounds. that was just for him. but with your hips bucking into his hand, and yours clamping down over your mouth as he shoves you over the edge with his fingers—he knows he’ll need to feel you. 

he’s pulling himself out of his sweatpants before he can argue with himself too long about it. his cock stands straight up in wait, and before you know it, tomura’s hands are on your hips and he’s pulling you into his lap. your brain was still mush, veins coursing with the pleasure of being reunited and under his spell. you were so focused on not making any noises that you didn’t even give your needy boyfriend a look of disapproval. he pretends like you’re the problem as if he would be able to sit here with his hands to himself, but you know the truth. shigaraki is just as helpless as you are, hence his finger curling around your panties and hooking them to the side so he can lower you on his waiting cock. 

he makes you sit all at once, and he clamps his free hand over your mouth before you can react to the stretch. then he snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you back to meet his chest. “keep quiet and sit still.” 

you nod vigorously, though you know you’re agreeing to something impossible. you were crazy with need, his fingers only unlocked the gate of your desire. you hadn’t had this dick in you for too long, and now that the length is fully sheathed in you—you’re ordered to sit still? it burns, your hole needed to be stretched back open to accommodate his sizeable length, long curved shaft angled just right against the spots you needed him most–but it wasn’t enough. you needed movement, you needed to hear him grunt and moan and speak unimaginable filth in your ear. you whine out softly, when the movie was loud enough you thought only tomura would hear.

he can feel you squeezing, and despite his orders, you wiggle in his lap irregardless. he should have known you wouldn’t be able to handle obedience after so much time apart, but it’s nothing he can’t remind you of. truth be told, he’s losing his cool too. he missed your wet cunt gripping him like this—how could he be angry at you for needing him so badly when he’s no better? he couldn’t, really, he could only be amused with your affection for him even if it assuaged every worry he had about you leaving him all that time you were gone. his hands dig into your fatty hips to use them as his own personal stress ball, kneading and squeezing on his whim. he can feel everything, every nerve on his body was acutely aware of every labored breath you took and each pound of his heart. he didn’t know if he could be strong much longer—and he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut. 

“you guys have your own room—why do we have to suffer through this?” dabi huffs out, clearly aware of what was going on in the room. twice clasps his hands by his cheek, disagreeing with his teammate. 

“young love! they just missed each other! at least he isn’t pout—” 

“out.” tomura hisses, cock jumping from knowing you were caught. you just clamp around him in answer, just as shameless as your boyfriend. “don’t speak—get out.” 

the other members gave mixed reactions, some rolled their eyes and huffed their way out the door, the others chuckled knowingly—they would rather deal with this shigaraki than the one that misses you any day of the week. when the door shuts and you two are left alone, a mixture of fabric and skin taps against your jaw. tomura held your face in his grip, fingers dancing along your bone in a teasing way. 

“my slut forgot how to listen, hm?” he asks rhetorically, sliding his grip to your neck. he squeezes with just the right amount of pressure to make you dizzy and open your mouth—though he can’t see your skanky face right now. you’re lucky he was just as needy right now or he was liable to leave his dick in you until it went soft without ever moving—but tonight? tonight he needed to reclaim his slutty little cunt until the sun came up. 

“been so long since i had to take orders.” you huff, maybe you were annoyed with him after all. 

he snickers. “attitude, little slut.” he says with a harsher squeeze to your neck. tomura can’t deny his entertainment–you got your nickname from your neediness, after all. “are you really mad at me?” he asks, and you know he wants a real answer. 

“annoyed—why’d you want me gone?” you huff, and he angles his hips up into you without warning. you gasp sharply at the stab, leaning forward to hold onto his knees. 

“didn’t want you gone, brat.” he sighs, letting off your throat in favor of holding the natural handlebars of your curves as he pushes your back forward to watch his dick plow in and out of you, his grip your only guidance. your moans start immediately, and he can’t help but smirk. “you’re my right hand, you’re the only one i can trust with some shit.” 

you purr at his explanation, bouncing along him on your own accord. he’s massive, filling every gap your pussy had to offer unapologetically. he presses against the entrance of your cervix without any movement at all, much less the animalistic style your boyfriend liked to fuck in, it was brutal. but so so good. it burns and sends shooting yet blissful pain through your body with every stroke, you slip forward a little, growing unable to hold yourself up. he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back up without remorse. 

“where you going, slut?” he teased, slamming up into you. it was unfair, he was gifted with such a huge dick he didn’t even need a good angle to absolutely wreck you. he was mesmerized by the sight of your cute little hole puckering around him, swallowing him whole and letting him slide back out. you would squeeze down with every thrust, making him slow down to pull himself out and speedily shove back in. “can’t even take good dick anymore?” 

you mewl out in response, your fingers digging into his thighs as your back arches deeper, only encouraging your boyfriend to speed it all up. it’s like you can feel him in your throat, your entire body being used and abused by the man you missed desperately. shigaraki treats you like his prized treasure any other time, but especially after a trip away—you love being his slut. you moan and through your ass back, making him groan out at the conflicting paces. 

“so nasty. fucking you stupid and look at you—like a bitch in heat.” he chuckles, though it’s all so pornographic to him. no other pussy in the world would feel like yours, your cute clamping and sticky wetness could never be beat. and your insides practically beat into the shape of him, he knows no other dick would have your toes curling as you bounce  and squeal. 

“tomura—” your breathy moan makes his balls hurt. he didn’t care how quickly he came this time. he’ll keep you spread open all night until he’s satisfied with the amount of cum seeping out of the hole made just for him. he wanted you to cum twice as many times as he does, so your sweet moan of his name and your fluttering pussy only tell him to snake his arm around your hips so he can rub your puffy clit again. he loves these gloves you got him, the mesh fabric makes it easier for him to feel everything without fear of quirk activation. he can feel your pulsing need under his fingertips, and he smiles at your sensitivity. you were such a gift to a man like him. 

“what? use your words.” he huffs in disinterest, though you know it’s anything but. your gut lurches, feeling like you stepped on an escalator that was moving too fast. 

“wanna cum, can i please, tomura?” you ask sweetly, calling his name just how he liked and everything. he had every intention of drawing this out—but he supposes he can have that during your next round. 

“do it now.” he orders, gruff voice telling you that there would be no punishment if you didn’t—unless you considered taking him all night a punishment. the sound of him groaning and feeling your body made it easy to follow his orders, your hips still even as his continue their assault. you shake from head to toe, the orgasm so intense after such a long time without cumming on his cock. you squeeze down so hard he sucks in a deep breath, knowing he was going to shoot his load like mount vesuvius. you hum happily, wiggling back on him to milk all the warmth he gave you. he slows his hips to a stop, panting only a little as he pushes you carefully off his lap and onto the love seat. “want to see my slut’s nasty faces this time.” 

he grins as he spreads your legs again, ready to stain the cushions beneath, when someone knocks at the door. twice pounds on the frame again, pouting. 

“can you guys at least pause the movie?” 

[elletheactualmenace]

Was it Worth it?

Pairing: Bruce Wayne(battinson) x fem!reader

Summary: Bruce did something and he is afraid you won’t ever look at him the same.

Warnings: Unfaithfulness, betrayal, harsh words, angst

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: probably definitely my favorite of the ones I’ve been working on. I kinda wish I made the ending a little different, but I still like it. Should I make another part? Idk, anyways enjoy.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

There is a gentle humming vibration radiating from the floor of Bruce's bat cave. His music is the only thing keeping the room from being dead silent. He's hunched over the table not even sitting in the chair. He looks exhausted, because he is. The tension in the air almost hurts as much as the situation itself. Your chest squeezes in pain and your stomach is dropped farther than you think possible. Bruce, doesn't move. He won't move. He can't look at the mess he made. The mess he got both of you in.

You stand in the middle of the icy cold room. A shiver runs down your spine. Your eyes are wet and puffy. No tears have fallen, and you are going to make sure you keep it that way. At least until you are alone. You won't give him that. Your tears. They're yours, and he no longer has the right to see you in that kind of vulnerability.

Your gaze wanders over the room. It's big. And has a lot of technology. It's dark and it's lonely in a way that reminds you of Bruce. You've been in here before, many times before, but the aura is different, and it's chilling. You can't tell if you're glad or angry. And if you are being honest, if the opportunity to go back and change everything appears, you aren't sure if you would take it or leave it.

"Well," You exhale a regrettable shaky breath. You straighten out your stance. You clear your throat and sniffle in your sadness and disappointment. "I'm going to bed." You turn on your heel towards the elevator.

Your steps are loud involuntarily, and they make Bruce's chest tighten with guilt and an overwhelming sense of self-hatred. His eyes sting from fatigue and emotional pain. His tongue glides over his lip, thinking of how he should approach this, or if he should at all. But he hears your scolding voice in his head. ’Bruce, you need to do something. You have to.’

The echo of your shoes against the concrete ground ends abruptly. You tilt your head up, looking at the ceiling trying to stop the sobs and shaking from taking over. You squeeze your eyes shut, taking in a long breath.

"Bruce," You start while pressing the elevator button. You hear it descending from the floors above. The sound is audibly shaky because of the quiet unspoken tension in the air. Bruce's head turns slightly at the soft sound of your voice.

"Was it worth it?" You're curious, but there is an undertone giving away the true intent of your question. You want him to feel the guilt and feel the same amount of pain and hurt you do.

"No." He whispers the ache in his heart evident in his voice.

“Was she worth it?” Your words are like venom. The elevator door slides open with a ding.

“No. Never. Why would you think that?” Bruce grumbles out, almost insulted. Your jaw tightens at his tone. Why the hell was he insulted? You should be screaming and crying, but you keep your cool for the sake of everyone. For the sake of your marriage. The clashing of your teeth is loud in your head. 

“I'm sorry, what?” Your fist tightens at your side. Now you're not just sad, you're pissed. How the fuck is he fixing this but trying to play the victim? He is not allowed to feel insulted, he doesn’t have that privilege.

Bruce doesn’t say anything, realizing the sound of his voice makes you mad. He stinks in on himself, feeling the guilt and the wrongfulness crawling from the pit of his stomach into every fiber of his being. He wants to undo everything, he wants to fall on his knees and beg for your forgiveness. But you need space. And begging will do as much as fucking Selina again. He needs to do something that proves to you he’s sorry and that it won’t happen again. But he’s not even sure he can prove it to you or that it won't happen again. He prays to everything that it won’t.

“Why would I think that?” You mumble to yourself in disbelief. You questionably hum, loudly, comically, mocking him. You laugh bitterly.

Suddenly it hits you. Why were you giving him so much as a thought right now? He doesn’t deserve your patience. He doesn’t deserve every night you waited for him to come home. He doesn’t deserve your constant ‘it’s fine’ even when it wasn’t. He doesn’t deserve the fact that you hadn’t done something drastic yet. But at the same time you knew his heart was good, and he deserves the world. You don’t know anymore. Fuck your indecisiveness. 

“I’m too tired to deal with all of this right now. Goodnight Bruce.” You step into the elevator, back to the cave. You push the button without a sound and are off.

The second the doors open again you’re met face to face with Alfred. When he sees your sad and pained expression he is immediately by your side. 

“Mrs. Wayne? Are you alright ma’am?” His face is full of concern. And you have to remind yourself to keep it together.

“I’m fine Alfred thank you. I think I’m ready for bed.” You curse how shaky your voice is, because Alfred notices too.

“Of course ma’am. Do you need anything before then?” Alfred is and always has been thoughtful and respectful of others, it was his job of course. 

“No. I’m-, I’ll be alright. Thank you, Alfred. You are too good for this world.” He smiles at your compliment and gives a small thank you. Your unsteady breathing makes him worried, but he lets you be. If you needed to talk you would have. So he lets you travel up the stairs and into the master bedroom.

——

Alfred is furious. What has Master Bruce done this time? Alfred practically stomps down to the bat cave. He storms in with fire in his eyes. 

Alfred loves you. As if you are his own. You are kind, witty, and an absolute pleasure to have around. You also care about Bruce, and he knew from the second he met you that you were going to stick around even if Master Bruce would be stubborn about it for a while.

When Bruce hears the loud steps, he perks up, hoping it’s you and that he can at least try to apologize. When he hears Alfred’s angry voice roaring throughout the cave his shoulders slump.

“Mater Bruce.” The volume of Alfred’s voice surprises him.

Bruce stays quiet. What did you say? No, he thought, she didn’t say anything. That’s not like her.

“Why have you sent your wife away in such a state? What did you say? What did you do?” Alfred never raises his voice much, but now is one of those rare occasions.

“I didn’t send her off. She left voluntarily,” Bruce responds in a gruff voice.

There is a beat of silence as Alfred gathers his thoughts and anger. Obviously you had left voluntarily. Bruce would never throw you out. Never. So, what had he done to hurt you?

“What did you do?” Alfred repeated in a firm voice. Bruce’s shoulders tighten even more than they already are. Bruce breathes out slowly, trying not to show his emotions, like always.

“I-“ Bruce starts, but his breathing gets shaky, and he stops. It feels like it hurts him just as much, if not more than you. But he would never dare say that out loud, he won’t ever try to make you think your feelings are inferior to his.

“I did something,” Bruce pauses, “And I-,” he pauses again. Alfred is so use to Bruce not sharing that the waiting doesn’t bother him anymore. Alfred lets him think about how to word it.

“I don’t think she will ever look at me the same. I don’t think she will ever forgive me.” Alfred can hear the pain in his words. He feels horrible. He wants to know what he did that was so bad.

“What did you do-“ Alfred cuts himself off when he sees Bruce switch on a screen. It’s one of the recordings he takes when goes out through his contacts. Alfred lets out an audible gasp when he sees her. Selina Kyle.

“You didn’t-“ 

“I did.” Bruce says bluntly, angry at himself. His eyes wander in a misty haze. Glazed over with regret.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred starts, but he stops mouth agape. As if he can’t put together what he wants to say. Like he doesn’t know himself. 

He loves you and he loves Bruce. And Bruce messed up big time. It’s going to be way more, incredibly difficult than usual for Bruce to fix this.

Alfred let Bruce be alone in his thoughts, but when he realizes it will take hours for him to truly have his thoughts straight, he marches down to the cave and demands he go and fix this.

“Go.” Alfred has a serious look on his face. “You can’t just leave her there to cry, Master Bruce.”

“I- I need to think,” Bruce argues but Alfred isn’t having it.

“I will let you know you’ve been ‘thinking’ for almost two hours. You’re done thinking. You need to go and confront the situation head on.” Alfred says sternly.

“No, I can’t,” Bruce says arrogantly.

“I don’t see why you are having such trouble. Facing things head on is the bat's job after all.” Alfred retorts and Bruce stays quiet.

“Now,” Alfred starts, “Go, before I burn your suit and have all the entrance to here,” He gestures to the batcave. “Sealed.”

Bruce narrows his eyes. He knows not to mess with Alfred when he threatens, even if it seems so casually, he is dead serious. Bruce has experienced it firsthand before.

“Get moving Master Bruce, before I drag you up there myself. Don’t forget you taught you everything you know.” Alfred says with a pointed look, before turning on his heel to exit. 

—-

You don’t remember a time that you have hurt as much as you do now. After brushing off Alfred successfully, at least for a bit, you moped up to the bedroom, your and Bruce’s bedroom.

After getting inside and shutting the absurdly large doors, you turn your back against the doors. Leaning all of your weight on them. Using them as a source of support. Now, finally, you let go. You let everything you have been hiding behind fall. The strong attitude to face your cheating husband. The tears pour in choked sobs. You slide down to the floor, back still against the big doors.

After a long while of sitting there you got up and got changed. If your life is falling apart your figure you might as well be comfortable. 

The tears never really stop, not really. They only slow every once in a while then come back even stronger than before. It’s getting hard to breathe. You can’t even sit on the bed, it smells like him. So you sit on the windowsill, looking out at the streets of Gathom.

You don’t know what to do. It’s not really something they make books, or guides for. Screaming at his face seems like a very appealing opinion right now. Or you could run, just for a bit, take the car you had before you moved in, and he, annoyingly at the time, felt the need to buy you a new car as one of the many welcome gifts. You had told him that you didn’t need anything, but he insisted, he always does. He’s thoughtful in that way. Always giving you things. You love him, and always will love- 

Wait. What the fuck? Why the hell are you doing? That loving husband you ‘will always love’ cheated on you. And proceeded to not tell you for almost five months. And you have only been married for a little less than a year. And what happened to taking the car and running? That thought just seemed to slip away.

You want to forgive him but at the same time you want to cry and scream at him for being a dick and hurting you. For all the time you have known Bruce he would never do something like this purposely, at least not from what you’ve seen. If someone asked you yesterday if you trust him and believe him, the answer would be an immediate yes, no questions asked. But now you aren’t sure. He has probably done so many things you don’t know about, and he has just never told you. 

The tears start to lessen, but the pain in your chest is still present. You had asked Bruce to put in a cushion on the window seat, and of course, he did. It was soft, sure, but it was always cold and isolated. You sat here when you waited for Bruce to come home from his nightly work. So the seat always reminds you of that lonely feeling. And right now the feeling is amplified.

You just want him to know what you did wrong. What is so bad about you that he has to go find someone else to be intimate with. All you can think about are the thousands of things you could have done wrong.

A soft knock sounds from the door. You can’t tell if you with its Bruce or Alfred. But either way you get up and walk over to the doors of the master bedroom.

You pull the doors open, head hung low towards the ground. You spot black dirty boots standing in front of you. It's Bruce. And somehow the sadness in the pit of your stomach enhances at the sight of the boots.

You squeeze your eyes shut, then push the door close. But something stops the satisfying sound of the door clicking closed. A boot specifically.

A growl grows from deep in your throat. 

“Go away,” The boot remains wedged in between the door frame and the door.

“Please?” It's more of a rude demand than a question. But instead of following your request a hand on the other side of the door pushes it open.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk but-“ You cut him off.

“No, I definitely don’t want to talk. That's why I came up here.” You finally look up into his hooded eyes. They’re bloodshot red, but you can’t tell if it's because he was crying or because he is sleep deprived. It's most likely the latter.

Bruce sighs sadly, he hates that he hurt you. He hates how your red puffy eyes and stuffy nose are because of him, because of what he did. He hates himself for letting Selina get to him. He knows it is and always will be his fault, but putting some blame on Selina, which she deserves, takes off some of the weight.

“Can I come in?” He asks, and you reluctantly let him in. Your body is heavy with dread. You don’t know how this will end, and thinking about leaving this room a single woman is horrifying.

Bruce walks to the windowsill you follow close behind, but keeping your distance. “What do you want to talk about?” You ask genuinely. “Are you here to tell me you had an affair with someone else? Someone other than Selina?” It comes out before you can stop it. And your breath hitches. You almost cover your mouth with your hand but stop yourself. After thinking about it alone, you realized that with Bruce, you need to let him speak before you start yelling. It never ends well when you just yell and don’t listen too.

Bruce looks hurt as he looks down at you with a frown. You sigh feeling ashamed for accusing him before he even got to speak.

“Sorry,” You mumble. “You can talk now.”

“Well, I-“ He pauses and sighs, finding it hard to put his thoughts and feelings into words. “Im sorry, and I- I know that most likely means nothing at all, and does nothing. But I just- I need you to know. Im so sorry.” His shoulders fall along with the walls that were previously up when you were down in the cave. 

You don’t say anything, you can’t. You can’t say it's okay, because it's not. So you let him continue.

“The night it happened, I wasn't in my right mind.” You scoff, and he understands that it sounds like absolute bull shit. So he re-words it. “I mean, I wasn’t focused, I was stuck somewhere else.” Your sniffle rips at his heart. That sounds stupid too.

“Fuck, I was missing you. And I needed you, but you weren’t there. She was. I regret it and always will.” It still sounds stupid and like bullshit, but he doesn’t care, it’s the truth.

“I wanted to come home early, and I was going to. I was. I was going to come home to you, but Selina- she,” He pauses, his breathing goes ragged. “She stopped me and I didn’t make it home.”

The room is quiet. You're thinking and Bruce is waiting for you to say something, anything. You breathe in slowly.

“So,” You start, “I didn’t do anything wrong?” Your voice cracks as your shoulders fall and you crumble into a million broken pieces.

“What?” He’s genuinely confused, in a soft voice. Why would you think you did something wrong? Bruce can’t figure it out. “Why would you think that?” Tears well up in his eyes as he watches your brave face fall right in front of him.

You laugh as tears roll down your checks. “I- I mean you’ve been distant lately, more than normal. And I guess the only explanation is that- I did something, or I didn’t do something,”

Bruce breathes out a shaky breath, trying to stop his own tears from spilling. “Y/n, you could never do anything wrong. I did the wrong thing. I’ve been distant because of this.” His words come out slowly, more than normal, like he is really trying to make a point. “And I can never make up for what I’ve done, but I need you to know that you’ve never done anything wrong.”

You look down with furrowed brows and tears running down your pink checks. It isn’t your fault. He was just being an insensitive prick, but he said he was thinking about you before it happened. You're stuck. You want to slap him and hug him at the same time. You don’t know what to say or do with what you were just given. Bruce is your husband and the love of your life, but he cheated on you, that’s something intolerable and horrible. You don’t want to walk out of his life, or make him leave yours.

You stand with him like this for what seems like an eternity. Both of you are thinking about what will happen next. Bruce thinks you will up and leave him, he knows you have the right to, but that doesn’t mean it's what he wants, he has to remind himself that this isn’t about him, it's about what he did.

You sharply look up at him and Bruce blinks in surprise at your sudden movements. You huff out an angry breath. Bruce waits for the four treacherous words to fall from your lips. He waits holding his breath.

“I want…”

A divorce. Bruce thinks as his shoulders slump and a tear slips down his check.

“I want a bit of space.” Bruce freezes. What does that mean? “I don’t want a divorce. But I need time to heal, and to gain back everything that you’ve-, ruin-” you pause not want to be straight out rude. But inevitably you decided against being nice. “messed up.” You say in a somewhat steady voice, your arms wrapping around your body to try and comfort you. Bruce knows you were going to say ruined, but he's glad you don’t, it shows that you are willing to help him mend your marriage, it gives him hope.

“Thank you,” he says with a sob almost falling over. “I- Im so sorry, I don’t deserve you. I never have.” He sobs out, finally letting the weight of his screw up show.

“You're right, you don’t.” Bruce's eyes fall to the ground in shame. He tries to compose himself. “But in time, hopefully you will again.” You state bluntly as you try to keep your voice steady and strong, while also keeping more tears from falling in a downpour.

“And I- I need you to just hold me.” You say softly grabbing his hand and leading him to your king bed. You’re still angry, but you need him to be here for you right now. 

He follows you to the edge of the bed and pulls off his boots as you slide under the comforter. You still look so hurt, because you are. Bruce knows this isn’t you forgiving him, this is you giving him his first chance to mend what was broken.

Bruce climbs in much less gracefully under the blanket, he waits for you to come to him. And you do. You wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his chest. His shirt smells like him and it makes you much more tired than you were five minutes ago. 

“I will always be here to hold you.” He whispers into your ear as he kisses the top of your head. He feels a wet spot forming on his shirt and guilt overtakes him for the millionth time in weeks. But Bruce just shuts his eyes tight and pulls you into him even closer. Silently letting you know that you can cry for as long as you need.

Your cries turn to sobs as you grip his black shirt tightly in your fists. After a long time of on and off sobs your tears turn into whimpers and sniffles. Bruce rubs your back in soothing circles, it's what he does when he wants you to sleep. You do just that. You drift off in his arms, and without any more words he knows, as he holds you in his arms that he will have to make it up to you and gain back your trust. And he will. Starting now, he will do anything and everything in his power to repair, patch up, restore, and piece back together what he ruptured.