#I’ll take it down in a heartbeat the last thing I want is to cause others pain

[i-like-forcefem]

I don’t look in the mirror often

I don’t know can’t really describe what stares back

Everyone says that it is me

But… it doesn’t feel like it

I don’t look in the mirror often

I walk away from my washboard when brushing my teeth

I shave with my eyes closed

I always try to forget what… it looks like

I don’t look in the mirrors often

It’s not that I hate it when people looks it me

I just feel exposed when im not wearing a shirt

It’s not that I hate considering that people perceive me

It’s just that I don’t see any purpose in male fashion

It’s not that I hate how I look

It’s… that something feels wrong in me

I decided to look in the mirror today

I put on lipstick

I put on a skirt

I did not like what I saw

Still I couldn’t help staring

Still I couldn’t help smiling

When I look in the mirror I do not see a girl

I do not see me

But

The closer it gets to being me, the happier I get

So, I should keep going

Estrogen can’t hurt

[noellawrites]

Belly of the Beast - Sonny Carisi x reader

summary: Reader has been hooking up with Sonny and gets kidnapped by William Lewis, who is determined to get them pregnant against their will. Reader does eventually become pregnant and is unsure of the paternity of the baby.

AFAB reader but no specific pronouns used.

warnings: rape, abduction, torture, pregnancy, discussion of abortion, canon-typical violence

The night before you were taken was completely normal. No alarm bells ringing in your brain, no voice telling you not to go into work the following day. You were spending the night with your co-worker, Sonny Carisi, and having amazing sex as usual. It was the kind of intimate intercourse that was normal with him, making you feel so special and loved.

As detectives in the same Manhattan SVU squad, you had to keep your companionship a secret. You both loved your jobs and you knew it could cause trouble if anyone found out. Besides, Sonny was brand new to the squad, and you knew Liv would transfer one of you in a heartbeat if she found out.

It happened so fast. One moment you were grabbing a cup from the cabinet in your apartment, the next moment a gun was being held to your head.

“N-no, please—“ you gasp, mind racing. You were wearing your holster, but your gun was still locked in your safe. You weren’t thinking this morning. Your mind was scattered from last night’s events, and it was about to massively screw you over.

“Gotta say I’m offended, sweet cheeks. No warm welcome for an old friend?” William Lewis says with a sinister smile, “I just knew I had to come back for you, such a sweet young thing. Couldn’t stop thinking about what I wanted to do to you, to Olivia Benson’s protégée. Hit you both where it hurts.”

His sentence is punctuated with a swift slam of the gun to the side of your head, knocking you out cold on your kitchen floor.

—

The first thing you notice after regaining consciousness are the handcuffs attaching your hands to the pipes on the wall and binding your feet together.

The room you were in was bare except for the pipes, the cuffs and you. It looked to be a utility closet with no windows, only a lone lightbulb above you with a string attached.

Duct tape covered your mouth, leaving you unable to scream. You thrashed around, tugging on your cuffs, hoping someone might hear.

Your eyes darted around the room. Were you still in Manhattan? Were you even in New York anymore? You had no idea what time it was or even what day. Your squad had to be looking for you by now, after you didn’t show up at work.

You didn’t have to guess for long, because the door swung open to reveal William Lewis, smiling down at you.

“God, you’re even cuter than I remember. Knew I needed you right away,” he sighs, stepping inside and closing the door behind you.

“You scream, I shoot,” he says, hand moving to his side as he pulls out a gun and fixes it on you.

He leans over, tearing the duct tape off your mouth along with some of your skin.

“Gotta say, I’m pretty hurt. Detective Amaro leaves, new guy comes in and you start hooking up with him?” Lewis sighs, shaking his head.

“What do you want from me?” you huff, tugging on your handcuffs again.

“This time, I’m taking what’s mine,” he smirks, “I’ve got a bed set up for us. Thought of you with all the other holes I fucked, and I knew I had to get my hands on you myself.”

“What, you mean all the women and children you raped, beat and killed?” you snap, writhing around as he un-cuffs you from the pipes and then re-cuffs you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you the royal treatment. I’ve got something special for you, little one. You might’ve started out as Benson’s protégée, but you’ll end up carrying mine,” he laughs.

Your blood runs cold at his words, knowing he must be planning on raping you. You wracked your brain for all the delaying tactics that Olivia’s taught you, and everything she’s told you about Lewis’ temper.

Lewis leans over and pulls you up, grabbing his gun with the other hand and fixing it on you.

“You’re insane, you know that? I’m not letting you do this,” you grunt.

Lewis yanks the door open and pushes you out, hand holding onto your cuffed ones. You look around what appears to be an abandoned warehouse for a few seconds before you are pushed down onto a dirty mattress.

“Olivia wasn’t enough of a thrill, so you just had to come for me, is that it? What about Amanda, is she next?” you challenge.

“Olivia is boring and Amanda’s all used up,” he laughs, “you, however, are perfect for this.”

“What are you gonna do to me?” you hiss as Lewis turns you over, pinning your hands under your back.

“This sweet little womb is going to carry the next rapist, the next little life-ruiner,” Lewis says, fingers tracing over your lower stomach, “first, he’ll rip out of you, ruining your body forever. And then he’ll follow in his daddy’s footsteps when he grows up.”

“What makes you so sure you’ll get me pregnant? And that it’ll be a boy?” you huff.

Each word that came out of William Lewis’ mouth made you even more terrified, your mind racing to rescue yourself from this situation.

“I’m more than just a pretty face, Detective (y/l/n). Right now is your most fertile time, according to the chart you keep in your desk. And we both know you’re too sappy and weak to get an abortion,” he laughs, shaking his head at you. So weak, so pathetic. An SVU Detective who couldn’t even save themself from becoming a victim.

“That’s— you have no idea what you’re talking about,” you gasp, thrashing around.

“Now you’re gonna make this hard on me? Fine,” he sighs, grabbing a bottle of alcohol from beside the mattress and unscrewing the cap, “drink up, baby.”

—

Over the next few days, you were out of your mind. If you weren’t passed out or asleep, you were drunk or high at Lewis’ force, shoving edibles down your throat and washing them down with bottles of cheap vodka.

Your throat burned, stung red with pain, and your body was dirty and disgusting. As if the drugs weren’t enough, Lewis was getting off on burning and scarring you, too. Lighters, cigarettes and metal objects were on rotation across your skin.

The worst was the rape, for which you preferred to be unconscious for. At least if you weren’t mentally there, you weren’t being traumatized again.

After the first few times, you knew you would never get a good night of sleep, never have a calm moment, never become intimate without feeling what you felt when William Lewis forced himself inside you, fucking at a brutal pace, spitting and screaming and grunting horrible things as he used and abused your body for his own pleasure.

He came inside of you as much as he physically could, getting off on mocking you for becoming his rape victim and eventually the carrier of his monstrous offspring.

After a few days, he figured SVU would be catching onto him, ever loyal to their own. He couldn’t risk moving you so he cuffed you back to the pipes, kissed your lips and disappeared. William Lewis had his fun with you, but he needed to keep moving if he was to avoid arrest.

You hadn’t been fed the entire time, barely given any water and mostly having had drugs and alcohol forced down your throat. You didn’t hear anything as SVU busted in, Olivia and Sonny leading ahead as they sprinted towards your weak figure.

“(Y/n)? Oh fuck— oh ma’ god—“ Sonny’s voice breaks, looking up at Olivia with tears in his eyes.

Liv pulls out her radio, immediately ordering a bus for an officer down.

“Baby, c’mon, it’s Sonny. ‘M right here—,” he coos, taking off his jacket and laying it over you to give you some privacy. You were fully naked and chained up, blood and burn marks everywhere. It didn’t take a genius to understand what had happened.

“Mmmph—“ you mumble as he unlocks the cuffs with the standard key used by NYPD.

“Ah know ‘ya can hear me, jus’ hold on. We’re gettin’ a bus, okay?” he sniffles, hand on your arm. Sonny wished more than anything that he could take your pain and make it his.

Sonny scrambled to grab a water bottle before Liv stuck her hand out, keeping him back.

“I know you want to help, Carisi, but the inside of their mouth could have DNA evidence,” Liv says with a pinched expression.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill whoeva’ did this,” Sonny growls, looking around as his blood boils. You had only been gone for three days, but it had felt like an eternity. Sonny had never been so afraid in his entire life.

—

If you ever had any question of what you and Sonny were to each other, it was answered in the days following your attack. Sonny spent a week and a half straight with you in your apartment, doing anything you needed. He bathed you, cooked for you, gave you space if you needed and held you when you woke up shaking or crying from a nightmare.

You returned to work a month later, even though Liv wanted you to take a longer break. She kept a close eye on you, having gone through multiple horrific William Lewis experiences herself, although none included rape itself.

A week into your return, Olivia pulled you into her office and gave you the grim update that there were basically no updates. Very much unlike him, Lewis had disappeared or gone into hiding. And Liv had one request for you: she wanted you to take a pregnancy test.

You laughed, taken aback at the absurd notion. Sure, you hadn’t had your period yet, but it wasn’t uncommon for survivors of extreme trauma. But Liv wanted to be sure, as Lewis’ mission with you was to force you to carry his offspring.

“I-I think the worst part is—“ you gulp, “he was right. I don’t have the balls to get an abortion. I’ve always wanted a baby, and I just— god, Liv, if I’m pregnant by my rapist, I have no idea what I’ll do.”

“And what about you and Carisi?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Me… and Carisi?”

“(Y/n), I’m not blind,” she smiles softly.

“We haven’t— you know, since the assault. I just can’t. But that would be even worse, I mean, I know Sonny would stick around. Both of us together, raising Lewis’ baby? A-and with the threat of him coming back and wanting custody? It’s just too much. I would put that poor baby up for adoption,” you sigh.

“Take the test and we’ll figure things out from there, Detective (y/l/n). I’ll be here for you every step of the way,” Olivia promises.

You both stand up and she gives you a hug, noticing how your body trembles. She had a hunch you’d been like that since the assault, and she couldn’t blame you. She’d be lying if she said Lewis didn’t haunt her dreams sometimes, too.

You took the test in your apartment, alone. Sonny’s shift ended two hours after yours, which gave you enough time to grab some tests from the bodega and take them with your fingers crossed praying to not be pregnant.

You still had flashbacks to those moments, the ugly ones where you were drunk or high and still awake with Lewis on top of you. You saw his repulsive smile every time you closed your eyes, hearing him babble about knocking you up and wrecking your life even more.

Your job was everything to you and you loved helping people, but you had never fully understood how it felt to be a sex crimes victim until it happened to you. Until your power was stripped away, every piece of your humanity torn to shreds. You never knew what it felt to want to burn your body, to destroy the evidence, to put an end to the agony plaguing you day in and day out.

You never wanted to die as much as when you flipped over those tests, seeing the plus signs and knowing you were giving William Lewis exactly what he wanted.

After a few days of moping, Sonny sat you up in bed and reminded you of the small, but still possible, chance that it could be his baby. You hadn’t used a condom with Sonny on the night before your abduction, though you usually did.

“Baby, jus’ get it checked. If it’s ours—“

“And what if it’s not, Sonny? You really want to raise a baby conceived with my rapist?” you cry, burying your head in your hands.

“Wouldn’t want t’give Lewis the satisfaction of lettin’ him raise it himself, doll. ‘N it’s still gonna be ‘ya baby, have ‘ya DNA either way,” Sonny reminds you, stroking your arm softly and gently.

“I-I’ll go in for a fetal DNA test,” you agree, allowing Sonny to call and make an appointment for your next day off.

In those moments between, you lived in a sweet purgatory outside of your body. The only times you felt grounded were when Sonny’s hands were on you, holding you, kissing your forehead, lacing your fingers together.

You couldn’t believe a tiny organism was growing inside of you, relying on you for nutrients and nourishment and love. Something so innocent that might be born from something so awful. You couldn’t even close your eyes when you thought about it, you just saw Lewis’ scarred face and his eerie, victorious smile.

“You’re sure you don’t want me t’come with ‘ya?” Sonny frowns, turning to face you as he buttons up his dress shirt.

“I’ll be okay, I promise,” you say, though you’re not so sure.

“If not, call me or Liv, alright? One of us can come, we don’t want ‘ya t’be alone,” Sonny says, stepping towards you and placing a hand on your shoulder gently.

“I will, Sonny. Don’t worry,” you smile, leaning into his warm embrace.

You were told the results could take up to two weeks to arrive, so you went back home and looked around your apartment. It was a one bedroom, barely big enough for you and a baby. If the baby was Sonny’s, would you move in together? Would you have to switch departments? Would you get engaged?

And if it was Lewis’? You loathed the thought, but it was the more likely possibility. You wish you could give it up for adoption, but the truth was that it would be your baby too. Could you really give your baby away just because it was conceived through rape?

—

Two weeks later, like clockwork, your phone rang. The caller ID was your doctor’s office, so you glanced at Sonny. He was none the wiser, sitting on the couch and reading through case files.

“H-hello?” you answer, ducking into the bedroom. Your hand shook as you held your cell phone up to your ear.

“Hello, is this (y/n) (y/l/n)?”

“Yes, that’s me,” you say nervously.

“I have the results of your fetal DNA test. The sample from Dominick Carisi Junior is a 99.7 percent paternal match.”

“Wh— a-are you sure?” you whisper. Your shaky hand comes up to your mouth as you blink slowly, hardly believing your ears.

“Yes, with a match that close, it is virtually impossible to have another paternal match,” the voice on the other line explains.

“Okay, thank you. So much. I-I really appreciate it,” you smile.

You exchange pleasantries and hang up, tiptoeing out of your bedroom as you glance at Sonny again. Your last look at him before telling him he would become a father.

“Sonny? I have some really good news.”

[hazelira]

one more day of you

warnings: terminal illness, emotional content, death themes

The morning light falls softly through the curtains, painting golden stripes across your shared bed. You wake to Jake's quiet breathing, his chest rising and falling rhythmically beneath your head. His arms are around you—warm, familiar, but trembling slightly. It’s in those little things now, how his hands sometimes shake, or his voice falters when he speaks. You’ve both known this was coming.

Leptomeningeal disease, causing symptoms like headaches, nausea, confusion, or difficulty moving. It often occurs in advanced stages of cancer and can be challenging to treat. You’d read the word once on your chart, printed cleanly on crisp white paper like it wasn’t the thing that would take you away. The cancer had spread to the leptomeninges—the thin, delicate layers of tissue protecting your brain and spinal cord. Jake hates the word because it feels clinical and sterile, too detached for something devastating. He only calls it “the sickness.”

You know this day will be your last good one. The doctors said so. “Make the most of it,” one had said gently, as if making the most of dying is something people could ever do.

You feel his lips press into your hair as he whispers, “You’re awake.”

“I’m awake,” you echo softly.

Neither of you moves for a moment. You close your eyes and memorize this—his heartbeat in your ear, the feel of his fingers tracing small circles against your back. How can a person possibly capture something so fleeting?

“We’re going out today,” Jake says finally, his voice still rough from sleep.

“I don’t think I can,” you admit, though part of you wishes you could. Your limbs are heavy these days, weighted with fatigue that no nap can cure.

“You can,” he insists gently. “I’ll help you. I’ll carry you if I have to.”

His voice barely cracks on that last part, but you pretend not to notice. You know he’s been trying so hard to be strong. Strong for you. Strong for himself.

He helps you get ready. There’s no rush, no urgency—he combs your hair carefully, pulling the strands gently through the brush as if you’re fragile glass. Your body is fragile now. You’ve felt it changing. Some days, the headaches come fast, pulsing deep and low, while your vision dims at the edges. Other times, your legs fail, nerves tangled like the frayed ends of an old rope. You’ve fallen a few times, and Jake has always caught you before you could hit the ground.

Today, though, you feel steady enough for him.

You spend the day by the lake.

It’s your favourite spot—the one where the water looks almost endless, where the ripples stretch toward the horizon like hands reaching for something beyond sight. You sit together on a blanket, your back resting against his chest while he hums softly into your ear.

“Jake?”

“Hmm?”

“What song is that?”

He pauses, the vibrations of his hum fading. “One I made up. I don’t know... it’s just for you, I guess.”

“You should write it down,” you tell him.

“I don’t need to. I’ll always remember it.”

The words hang heavy between you both because you both know the truth—there will come a day when he hums that song, and you won’t hear it.

Your hands are shaking again, and your motor skills haven’t been the same since the sickness spread. Jake notices, gently cradling your fingers in his. His touch is steady and deliberate. He brings your knuckles to his lips, kissing them as tears slide silently down his face.

You hate feeling guilty for leaving him as if this were something you could control.

“I wish I could give you more time,” you whisper.

“You’ve already given me everything,” Jake choked out. His voice is so soft, so broken. “Every moment with you… every smile, every fight, every time you told me you loved me. I don’t need anything else.”

The wind picks up slightly, carrying the scent of the lake toward you. You close your eyes and let it wash over you. You want to remember the feeling of the sun on your face, the warmth of Jake’s arms around you, and the sound of his breath catching in his chest.

When the sun begins to set, your energy is almost gone. You lean heavily into him as he carries you back to the car, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. His breathing is uneven from the weight—not of you, but of everything.

Back home, you sit in the living room wrapped in blankets while he kneels before you. The pain has started again, a dull throb deep in your spine. You wince, and Jake reaches for the medication.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No, it’s not.” His tone is firm. “You’re hurting.”

You watch him press the pills into your palm, his hands shaking worse than before. You swallow them slowly, grimacing against the bitter taste. He kneels, his head resting in your lap as you gently run your fingers through his hair.

For the first time, you feel his tears soak through the fabric of your clothes.

“Please don’t go yet,” he whispers.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur. “I’m right here.”

But you both know.

The clock ticks somewhere in the background; its sound is loud and unforgiving. You count each second because you don’t know how many more you’ll get.

“Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you sing to me?”

He lifts his head, wiping his eyes roughly before nodding. You know it takes everything he has to push through the grief tightening his throat, but he does it for you. His voice cracks on the first note, but it doesn’t matter.

It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.

And you let yourself drift into his voice, the memory of today, and the love you’ve shared for what feels like a lifetime.

When the sun rises the next day, Jake wakes to silence.

Your hand is still in his, and your face is slightly toward him. You look peaceful, and for a brief moment, he imagines you’re simply asleep.

Then it hits him.

The emptiness.

The stillness.

There’s no word for the sound he makes when he pulls you against him, his tears falling into your hair. There’s no word for the ache that settles into his chest when he kisses your forehead one last time.

“Thank you for giving me one more day,” he whispers, his voice breaking.

You’re gone, but the sun rises, spilling light across your face.

And Jake sits there, holding you as if his love alone could keep you together.

Even now, he hums the song he made just for you—because he promised he’d never forget it.

And he never will.

The house feels wrong without you. Jake hadn’t noticed how quiet it could be—how the creak of the floorboards, the hum of the refrigerator, even the wind against the windows—could sound so loud in your absence.

It’s been three days.  

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing, his fingers twitching as if reaching for something no longer there. You. Your scent still lingers on the sheets. If he closes his eyes and breathes deeply enough, he swears he can feel you beside him.  

But when he opens them, the bed is empty.  

Jake can’t look at the lake yet. He drives past it anyway, because not seeing it feels worse. He stops the car at the same spot where you both sat, where you leaned against his chest and let him hold you. The blanket is still folded neatly in the backseat—he hadn’t been able to touch it.  

The sun is setting, its light turning the water shades of gold and violet, like the heavens are mourning, too. Jake grips the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white, his breath uneven.  

“You said you wouldn’t go,” he whispers into the empty car. His voice shakes, anger bubbling beneath the grief. “You said you weren’t going anywhere. You promised.”  

He knows it’s not fair, that you didn’t want to leave him. He knows. But knowing doesn’t make the anger feel any less real.  

“You’re supposed to be here.” His voice cracks on the last word, and he bites down on his lip so hard he tastes blood. “Why aren’t you here?”  

There’s no answer. Just the sound of the water lapping at the shore and the distant cry of birds flying home.  

Home.

But his home is gone.  

Your clothes still hang in the closet. Jake tries to clean up one day, thinking maybe if he makes the house less you, it will hurt less. He’s wrong.  

The moment he pulls one of your sweaters from the hanger, it slips through his shaking hands and crumples onto the floor. He drops to his knees, clutching the fabric tightly, pressing it to his face.  

It smells like you. Like the lavender soap you loved and the faintest hint of vanilla.  

“I can’t do this,” he chokes out, the sobs finally breaking through.  

Jake hadn’t cried like this since the morning he woke to find you gone, but now the dam has burst. His tears stain the soft wool of your sweater as he gasps for breath, his chest heaving.  

“You’re supposed to be here,” he repeats over and over, as if saying it enough times might bring you back. But the silence presses in around him, mocking him.  

He doesn’t sleep much anymore. Nights are the hardest.  

Every time he closes his eyes, he dreams of you. Sometimes it’s beautiful—he dreams of the lake, of you laughing, your smile radiant as the sunlight. Those dreams are the cruelest because when he wakes, for the briefest moment, he forgets.  

And then he remembers.  

Other nights, it’s nightmares. You slipping away from him, calling his name as he tries to hold on. He wakes drenched in sweat, chest tight, throat raw from screaming.  

One night, he dreams of the day at the lake. Of you leaning against him, asking about the song he was humming.  

“I’ll always remember it,” he’d told you.  

When he wakes up, he sits at the piano in the dark, the song replaying in his mind like a ghost. He presses the keys gently, the melody soft and broken. Each note sounds like a piece of him shattering.  

By the time he finishes, tears are streaming down his face again. He rests his head against the keys, the silence stretching endlessly around him.  

“Where are you?” he whispers. “Where are you now?”  

Days turn into weeks. People stop calling as much. They say things like “She wouldn’t want you to be sad,” and “You have to keep living.”

Jake hates it.  

Because he doesn’t know how to keep living when everything reminds him of you.  

The coffee mugs you used to bicker over—yours with the chipped rim that you insisted still worked fine—sit untouched on the counter. Your books, their spines worn and pages creased, still clutter the shelves. He swears he hears your voice in his head when he picks one up, remembering how you used to read aloud, your voice soft and full of wonder.  

“I just want one more day,” he whispers one night, sitting on the floor beside the bed. His forehead rests against the mattress where you used to sleep, his hand gripping the sheets as if you might be there, just out of reach.  

“Just one more day of you.”  

Eventually, he goes back to the lake.  

The sun is setting again, just like it had that day. Jake sits on the blanket—the same one he hadn’t been able to touch for weeks—and pulls your sweater over his shoulders.  

It’s too big on him, but it’s yours.  

For a long time, he says nothing. The wind blows gently through his hair, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and water. He stares at the horizon, his chest aching, waiting for something that will never come.  

And then, quietly, he hums.  

It’s the song he made for you.  

The sound carries across the water, soft and fragile, like glass. It’s broken in places, trembling like his voice, but he doesn’t stop. Because this song is all he has left of you now.  

And as the last note fades into the air, Jake lets himself cry.  

The sunset turns the sky shades of gold and violet, just like it did that day.  

And for the first time in weeks, he whispers, “I love you.”  

The words drift into the wind, lost somewhere between the earth and sky, and for a moment, he imagines you’re there, listening.  

And he wonders if somewhere, somehow, you’re whispering it back.  

The present comes crashing back like a punch to the gut. The flashback fades, leaving Jake sitting in the too-bright backstage lounge, his hands clasped together so tightly his knuckles are bone-white. The faint hum of conversation buzzes around him, the other ENHYPEN members talking softly, someone laughing across the room—but the sounds feel far away, muffled, like he’s underwater.

“Jakey?”

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look up.  

Sunghoon stands a few feet away, concern painting his face as he peers at Jake. “Are you okay?”  

The question hangs heavy in the air, and Jake forces himself to take a breath. He’s been holding it, he realizes—holding it like he might stop himself from shattering into pieces. He drags his hands down his face, swallowing the lump in his throat before lifting his head.

“Yeah,” he lies, voice hoarse. “I’m fine.”

But he isn’t fine. How can he be? The ache is still there—a hollow, gaping void in his chest where you used to be. The memory of you clings to him like shadows he can’t shake, the song he wrote for you still humming faintly in the back of his mind.  

Jake knows the other members can see it—he’s quieter these days, smiles harder to come by, laughter sounding a little too forced. But they don’t push. They know him too well to pry when he’s not ready.  

Jay calls out, voice cutting through the haze. “Five minutes, guys.”  

The members begin to move around him, grabbing water bottles, fixing outfits, hyping each other up. Jake tries to focus on their voices, on the energy they always carry before a performance. He’s supposed to be a part of it—he always is. Walk The Line is their biggest tour yet, a dream for all of them. For their ENGENEs.  

And yet, here he is, sitting on the edge of a couch with his hands still trembling.

The walk to the stage feels impossibly long. The closer they get, the louder the sounds grow—the deep bass thrum of music vibrating through the walls, the roar of thousands of ENGENEs just beyond the curtain. It’s deafening and overwhelming, a wall of sound so alive it should make him feel invincible.  

But it doesn’t.  

Jake adjusts his in-ear monitors as he walks, his chest tightening with every step. He swears he can still feel your hand in his, your voice whispering, "You’re supposed to be here.”

He stops walking.

The others are ahead of him now, clustered near the stage entrance. Heeseung notices first, pausing to look back over his shoulder.  

“Jake? You good?”  

Jake lifts his head. For a second, the question lingers, like a challenge he can’t meet. Is he good? He hasn’t been good since you left. He hasn’t been whole.  

But then he hears it—the chant of ENGENEs calling his name, calling their names.  

“ENHYPEN! ENHYPEN!”  

It shakes him to his core, the energy crashing into him all at once.  

You had always loved his voice. Loved watching him perform, the way he poured his soul into every song, every word. You told him once, in your soft, fading voice, “When you’re on stage, it’s like you’re alive in a way no one else could ever be.”

Alive.  

Jake blinks hard against the sting in his eyes, the tears that threaten to spill. He doesn’t have time to break—not now. So he breathes, deep and slow, pushing your memory somewhere deeper for just a little while.  

Heeseung’s voice breaks through his haze again. “Jake?”  

He nods once, finally moving to catch up with the others. “I’m okay.”  

This time, it’s closer to the truth.  

The stage lights blind him as they burst into brightness, and the sound of ENGENEs’ cheers hits him like a tidal wave. It’s overwhelming. It’s electric. It’s everything.  

Jake steps into position, his mic warm in his palm, the opening beats of their first song rattling through the stadium. He forces a smile, even as his chest still aches. Because this—this moment—is what he has left.  

And maybe you’re out there somewhere, in the crowd, in the echoes of the music, in the spaces between the lyrics. Maybe you’re watching him. Maybe you’re proud of him.  

As he sings, the song he wrote for you hums faintly at the back of his mind, its melody weaving quietly beneath the performance. The tears threaten again, but he pushes through it, pouring everything he has left into every note, every movement.  

He sings for you.  

He always will.  

The crowd doesn’t see the way his hands tremble, or the way he closes his eyes just a little too long as he hits a note that feels like it’s pulling his heart from his chest. They only see Jake, their star, shining as brightly as ever.  

But he knows.  

You know.  

And when the song ends and the lights dim for a moment, Jake whispers, so quietly no one else can hear,  

“I miss you.”  

It drifts into the darkness, carried by the energy of the crowd, and for the first time in days, the ache doesn’t feel quite so heavy.  

Jake lifts his head as the lights burst back on, the roar of ENGENEs filling his ears once more. And as he smiles for them, he wonders if you’re smiling back, wherever you are.  

Because tonight, just for a moment, it feels like you’re still with him.  

And it’s enough to keep him going.

[sczne]

girl are you taking requests cause that last fic HOLYYYYY

ate so hard

if you are can i request semi x gf reader fluff&smut alphabet? (in a normal au, not squid games)

➤ nsfw alphabet.

implied: nsfw pairing: se-mi / player 380 x fem!reader word count: 1.3k note: heeeyyyy, yeah i'm taking reqss mainly for our girlies. alsoo here it iss, i'm not sure if this is exactly what u asked for, but i hope u enjoy it regardless<3 (i spent a whole day brainstorming, and i also did not proof read)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

she’s extremely caring when it comes to aftercare with you, a stark contrast too. she’ll usually bring you a bottle of water, maybe a snack and a lot of cuddles, 一 i’ll say that she sometimes wants to continue, but if you don’t, she won’t push it but if she doesn’t want to, you won’t push her either. maybe shower sex if you’re still in the mood and if you just wanna wash up, she’s okay with that too.

usually se-mi lets you have all the water to yourself but you frown at her way of thinking so the times she brings you a bottle of water and when you finish your turn of drinking, you press the sealing surface against her lips. this action causes her to turn her head towards you, looking away from the tv looking for a movie for the two of you, raising her eyebrow with a small smile “what’s wrong, baby?” furrowing your eyebrows you try pressing further emphasizing for her to drink the water 一 “drink.” 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

boobs. but you already knew that. and it’s too obvious, she’ll steal a glance at any given opportunity, but aside from that, she loves laying on top of your chest just to listen to your heartbeat and probably your collarbones or inner thighs, she’s a sucker for those places, leaving marks whether you let her or not (but if u really say no, she won’t leave any) and only because she just really likes watching you struggle trying to cover them up and usually teases you about it.

on se-mi, it’s definitely her hands, she loves the way your eyes follow every movement, from fingers to the palm 一 her hand in general just staring with your mouth agape as she traces the lip piercing with her index finger, teases you about it too she uses the same hand to point at her eyes, snapping you out of your trance realizing you’ve been caught, “eyes up here, baby, you’re not even gonna be discreet about it?” she teases.

and obviously because of how your body reacts when the cold rings come in contact with your warm skin, especially when they’re sliding up to your inner thigh or a simple slide of her hand down your side when her hand is underneath the fabric of your shirt and you usually grip her wrist to stop her from doing anything else because you’re in public or in the middle of something.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

like i said, se-mi’s hands am i right hahaha,,,, 😻一 she enjoys the sight of seeing your juices covering her fingers, before locking eyes with you through half-lidded eyes, licking her own hand clean as she watches you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, still breathless, sucking in as much air as you could with your chest heaving.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

collars. (open for discussion) something in se-mi finds it arousing about you or herself in a collar with any of the two of you being in control of the chain, visualizing you harshly or gently tugging her towards you or between your legs has her swallowing hard.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

definitely experienced, a decent amount of experience, she’s more than willing to experience new and other things with you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary. doggy. OR LITERALLY ANYTHING. as long as your legs are up on her shoulders. 😽

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

no, huge nono for her, she tends to cherish these moments of vulnerability with you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i'd say she’s pretty well groomed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

i like to think that se-mi gets this natural habit with you during these moments where she brings up your hand using her own hand while she’s hovering on top of you, kissing the palm of your hand, or letting the palm of your hand simply brush against the cool metal of her piercing along with the feel of her lips, maintaining eye contact with you with half-lidded eyes, with her breath fanning over your hand, murmuring a low “i love you.” 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

i think it depends, to se-mi i don’t think it’s necessary when she has you. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

she definitely has many, from degrading to praising, dirty talking, but i wanna assume temperature play, this idea mainly based off of how you react when her nose piercing nudges slightly at your inner thigh when she leaves marks and kisses, and let’s not forget when she eats you out.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

probably anywhere as long as you give her the green light, but she’s definitely more into the moment when it’s private.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

se-mi gets turned on by your reactions, your sounds get her going, but it definitely turns her on when you playfully or gently bite her lip piercing mid kiss.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything that involves hurting you or that leads you to cry, these are also the reason why se-mi insists you have a safe-word.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

yes, huge YES. i don’t have to explain this. she loves it, having your legs up on her shoulders, watching your reactions, her hand sliding down your side with the feel of her silver rings makes you shiver under her touch, her other hand tightens its hold on your upper thigh to hold you in place and idly tracing patterns on it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

depends on her mood, and yours of course.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

se-mi likes them more than she’d like to admit to you, a little often if you’re in a rush or a limited amount of time, they sometimes turn into an all nighter.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

you don’t risk, you don’t win, she doesn’t care, not a single flying fuck, unless you really say no, she’ll behave.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

she’ll give into as many as you want, but she’d be dead beat after all of it and definitely suggests breaks. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

strap. and definitely others like vibrators and cuffs (maybe. does a blindfold count?)

she’d mainly use them on you, but if you insist she’ll oblige.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

depends on her mood, very unfair most of the time though, teasing is like breathing for her.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

pretty quiet, sometimes muffled by your neck, but the times she’s vocal is just moans, pants and heavy breathing.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

sexting, nudes or films if you allow her.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

she probably has piercings in other places. but that’s just me though…

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

decently high i’d say, depends on where her teasing leads to.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

it’s a 50/50 with se-mi, depends, sometimes she just stays there cuddled up with you tracing lazy patterns on your thigh while you sleep, making you stir in your sleep. that, or she sleeps like she’s dead. (no pun intended 😿)

©sczne

[malum-forev]

jealousy, jealousy

Summary: You're usually someone who preaches love but there's something about a new recruit that makes your blood boil.

Jealousy isn’t part of your vocabulary, it never has. So when you started dating Bucky you assumed it wouldn’t be a problem. Of course you noticed the widened eyes and hushed words people- men and women alike, Buck’s got game left and right- whenever the two of you would walk into restaurants. When you started pointing it out to him, he would always say: “It’s not cause they like my looks sweets, they’re afraid of me.”

Maybe at first that was the case but definitely not now, the public’s perception of Bucky turned positive. From terrifying Winter Soldier close all your doors to I’ll set my house on fire just to get a look at Daddy Sarge.

And there wasn’t anyone who loved teasing him about it more than you. Some nights, whenever he’s been especially annoying you would search his tag on twitter and read what people post about him. His cheeks would burst red and he would bring the comforter up to his face.

“Could you please stop with that!” He groaned but a smile tugged at his lips. “You know it gives me a weird feeling!”

“I would love to see the Eiffel Tower, they say Paris is beautiful this time of year. @BuckyBarnes @SamWilson.” You giggled as you brought your phone closer to your boyfriend.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Do I even want to know what that means?”

“It’s-well- kind of when you-“ You pursed your lips and made a triangle shape with your hands. Maybe a visual aid would help?

Bucky grabbed both of your hands and brought them to his lips. “Can you please put me out of my misery?”

But today was very different, it had been for a few weeks now. There was something about the new brunette agent that rubbed you the wrong way. Maybe it was that she was currently rubbing Bucky’s bicep. 

Jealousy does not exist in my world. My happiness comes from within me. There is no jealousy in true love. 

You repeated this over and over in your head, raising the speed on the treadmill and focusing on the windows in front of you. You were not going to focus on the fact that there was a hot pink nail polish wearing agent openly flirting with your boyfriend. Definitely not focusing on that. 

Your heartbeat started to rush as you kept on running, seeing red. No mantra was enough, you wanted problems. You were going to go up to her and pin her down on the floor until she was patting on the mat, taking her last brea-

“You okay?” Natasha asked, placing her hand on your lower back to stabilize your body as she lowered the speed on the treadmill. “It looks like you’re trying to challenge the speed of light over here.”

You took a deep breath to calm your anger and looked at the redhead with a smile. “I’m trying to get rid of all my- you can call it extra energy.”

Natasha threw her head back with a laugh. “Bucky training the new recruits?”

“This hasn’t happened before, I’m usually very chill about everything. But there’s something about this one.” You said, forcing your eyes onto Natasha’s instead of behind you. Where they were now about to start sparring. 

Natasha’s eyes traveled from yours to behind you. “If that’s the problem then I strongly suggest you don’t look now.”

You turned your head just enough to see the young recruit asking for your boyfriends hand to stand up, putting her other hand on his shoulder as she came up. You heard her giggle as she draped her arm over his shoulder and started complimenting his new shorter haircut. But the thing that threw you over the edge was how she placed her palm against the back of his neck. 

“Excuse me.” You said to Natasha, ripping open the pocket on the left side of her tactical suit and taking out one of the small knives you knew she hid. “I just need to borrow this for a second.”

Before Natasha could even get a word out you planted both of your feet on the gym floor and sent the knife flying in between Bucky and the new agent’s face and landed on the wall behind them. Bucky leaned back a little as he felt the air rushing when the knife passed him, turning to face you with a stupid smug smile. The recruit on the other hand, fell to the floor and clutched her chest. 

Nat tried and failed to swallow her laugh.

You brushed past Bucky and the agent, who was still on the floor. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“You should really work on your aim. Someone could have gotten hurt.” She shot you an annoyed look as you un-stabbed the wall. 

You turned on your heel and debated your answer. 

Actions speak louder than words. You thought. 

Without breaking eye contact with the woman, you sent the knife flying right to the spot next to her head. With no effort the blade stuck to the foam flooring. 

“I have perfect aim.” You smiled walking past Bucky who was biting the inside of his cheek to suppress his smile.

“Are we still on for dinner Sweets?” Bucky asked, the sides of his lips curving upwards. 

“7:30, don’t be late.” You said without turning to him. 

---------

Part 2: jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Wanna read more like this? Here’s my latest post. 💖

Author's Note: Kinda short but I hope you guys liked it! As always my requests are always open!! Be sure to comment, like and reblog if you like!!💖💖🦾

[fandomnerd9602]

Sick

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

It was a normal day at the Sanctuary. Work was usual. You and your doe mate Wanda were getting ready for the end of the day when she started to shutter and shiver a little.

“My doe? You okay?” You tried to get close bud she gently pushed you away.

“Uh oh” she gently murmured

“What?”

“I’m getting sick” she began to hyperventilate.

“It’s okay baby,” you tried to reassure her. “It’s probably just a little bug but I’ll call Doctor Strange to come look you over”

“No doctors!” She shouted, cowering on your office couch. Your doe begins crying, you slowly approach and sit down next to her.

“It was the facility wasn’t it?” You gently inquire. She buries her face in the crook of your neck. She nods softly, affirming your fears.

“I had to hide every time I was sick” she explains, still mumbling into your neck, “it was a death sentence to admit you were ill”

“It’s okay,” you gently reassure her. “I’ll take care of you.”

“You will?”

“Yeah.” You pull her close, “and if you’re not feeling better then I’ll call Doctor Strange.”

“Last resort?” She asks hopefully.

“Last resort” you kiss her head.

“Carry me?” You chuckle and pick her up. You carry her all the way to your jeep and then all the way into your home.

Wanda woke up the next day completely and utterly sick. Her sneezing fits were terrible, running nose, headaches.

And all you could do was be at her beck and call. You made sure she had a fresh thing of water, medicine and hot soup every so often.

You brought out your humidifier and set it up in her room, moving around her stuffed animals so she could feel their presence.

Day two wasn’t much better.

Day three you finally called Doctor Strange. Wanda shuttered as memories of the doctors at the facility came flooding back. The torture. The needles. The cold calculated stares of their eyes. Would this Doctor Strange be just like them?

Doctor Strange, an old friend of yours and hybrid doctor arrived at your apartment. His tail swished beneath his red overcoat.

“It’s not every day I make house calls” he gives you a weary smile and a laugh.

“Thanks Doc,” you warned him, “just take it slow, Wanda’s-“

“I figured. Been through a lot.” He responds, “Natasha informed me”

He walked into Wanda’s room, with you behind him. “Hey there Wanda. I’m Stephen.”

“Are you the doctor?” She looked a little curious at the older fellow.

“I am,” he smiles, “a fellow hybrid.”

“What animal?”

“Well…my tail and ears are those of your standard Mellivora capensis,” he chuckled.

“Sorry?”

“Honey Badger,” he explains before pulling out his stethoscope. “If it’s alright, I’m gonna listen to your heart.”

Wanda sits up and lets Strange listen to her heart, “it’s strong. You got a good heartbeat.”

“T-thank you…Stephen”

He takes her temperature. “You know why I know I’m a honey Badger?”

“Why?”

“Cause I don’t care what others say. I take what I want” Wanda chuckles at his little saying.

“Looks like a standard flu,” Strange explains. “I’ll give you some flu medicine and you get plenty of bed rest, little doe”

You shake Strange’s hand, “thank you Doc”

“You got a good mate, Wanda,” Strange gives you a wink.

“I know I do” she smiles at you and gives you a wink.

True to the doctors orders, it took a few days but Wanda was better in no time. By the end of the week, she was back to cuddling with you in the evening hours.

“I wouldn’t have trusted Strange unless you were with me,” she murmured in your ear.

“Really?”

“I feel safe with you,” she admits, “it’s one of the many reasons I love you”

“I love you” you give her a smile. And then you sneeze. Your face goes pale and Wanda’s eyes brighten.

“Oh no” you bemoan. Your amazing doe pulls you to your feet and points to your own bedroom.

“March! It’s time I return the favor, detka”

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @revanshand @russianredassassin @mathxa @softlymaximoff @multi-fandom-enjoyer @idkwhatever580

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

Yeah, I’ll Let You Cut Me Open

Jason’s always twitchy after a fight. Good thing you show up.

Another installment of the jason x vampire!reader series. You know the drill, foul language and suggestive content.

The rest of the series is on my masterlist

Humor, fluff. Ain’t nothing else going on, boys.

No use of y/n

I have no idea how long this is.

—————

Jason sighs, looping the end of the zip tie and tightening it against the unconscious perp’s wrists. Panting heavily, fight barely over, he methodically checks the man for injuries. Other than a few broken teeth courtesy of Jason’s fists, the man seems fine. Almost ildly, Jason brings a finger to his own neck, hunting for his pulse. Way the fuck too fast. Jason’s fingers twitch.

He’s always struggled with the comedown. The raid was a huge success, Red Hood had worked with Nightwing and Red Robin to track down and dismantle one of Bane’s drug warehouses. They’d gotten to the docks at one am and had the last goon out cold by two thirty. It was the kind of fight Jason loved, fast and dirty, with opponents well trained enough to make it interesting, to make him work for it. It wasn’t a good fight unless Jason got knocked around a little, that’s what he always said.

But now the fun’s over. Jason’s blood is still thrumming, heartbeat loud in his ears, and he has to catalogue evidence and search the premises and drag these stupid henchmen into a neat pile for the GCPD. Resigned, he reaches for another lifeless body, hauling him over to the growing lump of men.

“Lift with your legs, Hood,” Dick offers from the ground as he binds hands and ankles. Jason grunts. Man, this sucks. All this damn adrenaline with nowhere to put it. Maybe he should take up meditation to calm down, or some shit.

“Hey, isn’t that your boy-toy?”

“Oh my gosh, it is!”

Or maybe not.

Maybe his adrenaline can stay right where it is, because that’s definitely you, running barefoot across the warehouse in a barely-there minidress, your friend Crystal trailing behind you.

“Well, looky here,” Dick says with a grin. “Your girl’s a-coming.”

“Jason Jason Jason,” you chant happily, “Jason, Jason. I’m so glad you’re here!” You run eagerly into his arms, and Jason catches you, glowing at your affection. He doesn’t think he’ll get used to it.

“Cute,” Tim comments, walking over from where he’d been bagging evidence.

Jason ignores him. “What’re you doin’ wandering round the docks, princess?”

You shrug unsteadily. “Got bored at the club. Was lame. Went for a walk.”

“She drunk?” he asks Crystal.

“Oh, yeah,” she confirms with a smirk, holding up your discarded heels she’s got hooked around her finger.

You wriggle in his grip. “Jason, Jason,” you babble, sliding your hands up his chest to go for his helmet. “Hey, wait, take this off.” He obliges, and you stretch out on your tiptoes, planting your hands on your shoulders and vaulting yourself up to reach his face. His arms come up to support you, and you rub your face against his neck. “Jason,” you whisper conspiratorially. He hears Tim cough, and flushes awkwardly. “Jason.” You kiss a line up his neck. “I’m hungry.”

He drops you immediately. “No.”

“Ahh!” you shriek as you hit the floor. “No?!” You beat your fists against the concrete.

“Hood,” Dick says reproachfully, but Jason waves him off. A little bump on the floor won’t do any damage, and he’s not about to let you sink your teeth in him on a moments’ notice.

Sure enough, you push yourself to your feet, pouting at him. “What the fuck. Jason, give me some.”

“I told you, no. I got beat up on enough already, I don’t need you biting just ‘cause you’re drunk and you want a snack.” All true. Bonus: he doesn’t want Dick and Tim to see you drink from him. That feels private. Especially since he’ll probably pop a boner.

“Oh,” Tim hums thoughtfully. “She wants to have some of your blood.” He thinks for a moment. “You guys do that?”

Crystal saves him from answering. “You good?” she calls to you. “Can I go?”

“Yeah, fine,” you answer over your shoulder. “Whatever. See you later.” Crystal tosses your shoes to the floor and makes her way out of the warehouse.

“Jason.” You put your hands on your hips. “Come on. I’m starving. You can spare a little.”

“No-o,” he enunciates. “Get your damn hospital blood at home.”

“I don’t want to,” you stamp your foot. “It’s too far!”

“That ain’t my problem, sweetheart,” he says, turning around. He’s half expecting it when you run over and launch yourself onto his back, wrapping your arm around his neck in a chokehold. “Please?” you wheedle. He grins, reaching for your arm and using it to chuck you across the room. Tim gasps as you crash into a table, but you’re up in moments, pushing the table out of your way and sprinting back to him. Jason smiles wider. He loves, he loves having a partner to roughhouse with. He dodges you as you lunge clumsily at him, and you hiss in frustration.

“Come on!” you howl.

“Damn,” Dick murmurs as Jason pushes you away again. “They’re really that indestructible?”

Jason nods, opening his mouth to answer, but then you tackle him, wrestling him to the floor.

“Here, wait, just let me—no! Stop!” you cry furiously as Jason fights you from below. “Just—just leave your fucking hand here—” you pin his wrist to the ground, and Jason’s stuck, he can’t win against your strength. Doesn’t stop him from trying.

“Whoa. Strong,” Tim notes.

“Get off,” Jason commands breathlessly, using his hips and legs to try and leverage you off of him.

“No, not until I have a little.” Your knee hits his crotch, and Jason smirks in satisfaction as you spit angrily. “What the fuck? Are you wearing a cup? No fair!”

He uses your confusion to haul you off of him and scramble to his feet. He crouches, waiting for your next attack, but you remain on the floor, picking your face up to glare at him.

“Ja-son! Please please please please—”

He ignores you again, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Hood, your cut,” Tim warns, and Jason presses a hand to his temple, realizing he’d started bleeding again.

Instantly, you’re up on your feet. “You’re bleeding? Oh no…” You sidle towards him carefully, eyes locked on the blood sluggishly dripping from his head. “Jay, that’s terrible.”

“Knock it off, doll.” Jason catches the roll of gauze Dick throws his way. “You’re not gettin’ any.”

“You fucking bastard,” you mutter. “I don’t know why I keep you around at all.” Looking around, your eyes rest on the unconscious men on the ground. “Can I take some from them?” you ask, eyes lighting up.

Dick opens his mouth to protest, but Jason beats him to it. “Nuh-uh.”

“Oh my god,” you seethe. “Fuck you, you never let me do anything!”

“Didn’t realize you were looking after a cat, Jay,” Dick says wryly.

You totally ignore him. “If you won’t give me any, I’ll just go out and kill someone.” Tim gasps, and Dick shifts into a fighting stance. You cross your arms over your chest, as if to say, “so there.”

Jason’s heard this one from you before. “No you won’t.”

You throw up your hands. “‘No you won’t!’ ‘No you won’t!’” you mimic him furiously. “I swear to god you’re making me into a fucking loser.”

Jason turns to Dick as you pace the room, muttering to yourself. “Think you can handle the rest?”

“What?” Tim asks, affronted. “You serious? There’s like, piles of work still to do!”

“Yeah, Timmy and I will take care of it,” Dick says easily. “Come on, Tim,” he slugs an arm over his shoulder. “Red Hood’s gotta deal with his vampire.”

Jason rolls his eyes but stalks over to you nonetheless. “Come on, doll.” He herds you toward the exit. “I’ll take you home.”

You dig in your heels. “You gonna let me have some?” you challenge.

“Christ, yes,” he mumbles out of earshot of Dick and Tim. “At home.”

“Fine.” Smiling in satisfaction, you turn and skip out of the warehouse.

Jason follows you outside. You’re already straddling his motorbike, grinning happily. Jamming his helmet on, he gets on behind you, giving you his bloody fingers to suck on. You lick them eagerly.

His stomach swoops, and he revs the bike as he lets out a growl. You giggle around his fingers and press yourself against his back, directing his other hand to fall on your thigh, right at the hem of your short short short dress. He gropes you eagerly.

Yeah, he can think of another way to get the adrenaline out.

[cosmowgyral]

Falling into Sin with the Black Tiger ~ Gilbert's 4th Birthday

▪︎ A Story from his POV

This is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

NSFW/MDNI

I thought the beast of destruction was a greedy creature.

Countries and people alike, can go to any lengths to get what they want.

Despite my self-confidence, I didn't realise it until I was asked, "What do you want?"

I hadn't really thought much about what lay ahead after obtaining everything.

Emma: Gil, aren’t you going to sleep?

After returning to my room from the ballroom, I was gazing aimlessly at the sky when Emma, who had been lying down, suddenly sat up.

Gilbert: I thought I’d bask in the afterglow of my birthday a little longer.

Emma: Then I’ll join you.

She embraced me from behind and the cold night air turned into warmth.

(I noticed that you weren’t sleeping and was waiting for you to join my company…..)

(If I say it out loud, I might get into trouble.)

Gilbert: You should go to sleep.

Emma: I can’t sleep.

Gilbert: Even though we did all sorts of things?

Emma: ……

Just by lightly tracing the hand that had been hugging me, Emma began to get flustered.

The corners of my mouth quirked as I felt the quick increase in heartbeat from my back.

(Maybe I went too far.)

--*flashback from the dining room*--

Emma: Mmm….aahh…your fingers…nghh

Gilbert: You want me to take them out? But I’m not moving them.

Emma: Nnn....you’re lying….

Gilbert: You know I hate lies.

Emma: Aaaahh

Gilbert: See, you’re acting on your own again.

Emma: No…Gil….you just bit my breasts.

Gilbert: It’s cruel to blame others.

Emma: A…ahhh...

--*flashback ends*--

(But it couldn’t be helped. She had a face that was saying “please eat me”.)

When we returned to my room from the dining room, or when we took a bath to wash our messy bodies….

I liked Emma’s reactions, how she tried her best to respond despite being embarrassed, and so I ended up being a little too mean.

Emma: Maybe because of all the things that happened to me…I can’t sleep at all.

Gilbert: You’re right. It’s no wonder you can’t sleep if you’re this anxious.

Emma: …So you can hear my heartbeat.

As Emma tried to move away feeling flustered, I grabbed her hand and pushed her down onto the bed.

Pressing my ear against her soft chest, I could hear her heartbeat more clearly.

Gilbert: It’s becoming faster again.

Emma: That’s how much I love you.

Gilbert: Hehe, thanks?

(The date has changed and so my birthday is over now.)

(You give me what I want every day.)

(I know you’re the only one who will never betray me, even without any threats or domination.)

As she caresses my hair in a pampering manner, the drowsiness is overshadowed by a sinful feeling.

When I poked the bulge visible through her negligee, a sweet sigh escaped from Emma’s mouth.

Emma: What are you doing?

Gilbert: It was right in front of me.

Emma: …Not now.

Gilbert: Because it will come back again?

Emma nodded without understanding a thing.

Gilbert: If you really don’t like it, I can stop….

I pulled up the hem of her nightgown and stroked my fingers between her legs.

It was so wet that it couldn’t have been caused by simple teasing, and it immediately swallowed my fingers.

Gilbert: Is this why you can’t sleep?

Emma: Ahh…again..

Gilbert: It’s a problem to be loved this much, isn’t it?

If I expose Emma’s weakness deep inside her belly, her poor, tormented lower abdomen will soon start dripping with her honey.

Gilbert: Does this mean ‘I love you’?

Emma: That’s….right…

Gilbert: Heehee, I see.

(No matter how many times I experience your ‘love’, it always feels good.)

I massaged her breasts over her negligee, also moving my fingers inside her to scoop out her arousal.

The love I sensed in her warm gaze was genuine.

Even though I’m such a terrible man, Emma always loves me.

(You asked me to be selfish on my birthday this year….)

(I thought my last selfish wish in life was to meet you.)

(I made up a reason to go to Rhodolite and get involved with Emma, even if it meant ruining her life.)

(I had never thought of anything more selfish than that, and I could never think of anything else.)

When I kissed a breathless Emma, she put her hands behind my head as if welcoming me.

I was moved by the way she kissed me, as if conveying that she wasn’t opposed to this at all.

(….Now that I think about it, it seemed obvious.)

(It’s only recently that I’ve started thinking about my future.)

When our lips part, a thread hangs in the dim light.

Emma: You too, Gil….

Gilbert: Hmm?

Emma’s hand rested on my cheek, and I was smiling kindly, too kind for a villain.

Emma: You act like you love me.

Gilbert: Hehe, isn’t that obvious?

Gilbert: I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t love you.

I pull out my fingers from inside her and help her sit up.

Emma seemed to understand my intentions immediately, and blushing bright red, she climbed on to my lap.

(I’m spending time now that shouldn’t have existed in the first place.)

(And if you plan on staying here from now on….)

(Maybe it is a good idea to take some time to think of my own future.)

(Most of my memories are already made up of blood and corpses, painted all black…)

(The memories we make give me hope for the future.)

Emma lowered herself on me, and hugged me tightly.

Emma: Haah…Gil…

Gilbert: You’re okay with moving on your own again?

Emma: That’s…not true…

Emma said “that’s not true”, but as she moved her hips she lets out a small shriek.

It seemed she had moved unconsciously, and again, I couldn’t help but laugh.

(When I’m with you, I feel so happy.)

(…I’m sure Emma knows very well what it means for me to be happy.)

I secretly watched Emma bustling about preparing for my birthday, but this year too, I couldn’t keep a smile on my face.

I imagine Emma had her own thoughts about giving her blessings to the great villain.

Even so, I didn’t sense any hesitation.

She had already made up her mind to celebrate this blood-soaked man.

Emma: I think…you’ll be asked…'what you want to do’ next year as well.

Emma: So please, give it…a lot of thought.

Emma: I’ll make all your wishes come true.

Gilbert: Does that mean you won't be listening to me until next year?

Emma: If you have one now…please…ah

I intentionally move my body and Emma’s expression changes again.

I never get tired of her expressions filled with ‘love’.

(For now, all I can say is….)

Gilbert: I’d love to go on a date with you again.

Emma: Like…the other day?

Gilbert: Yeah. I like spending casual times like that.

Emma: Me too.

Gilbert: After that….

Bodies intertwined, lips pressed together, heartbeats synchronized, and then our gazes meet and we smile together.

Gilbert: Will you celebrate my birthday next year too?

(And commit many more sins…)

(Will you fall with me?)

[Chapter 3] [Masterlist]

He loves her sooo much omg, I really LOVED this story. I'm so glad he's happy.

Also when he said he went to Rhodolite for her....god, I just hate to imagine him going there for her, only for her to end up with the other princes (in other routes). Even though Silvio's my favourite, I feel miserable.

[bri-cheeses]

Jerseys vs. Hoodies - Part 3

| Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 662 | Part 2 can be found here |

-

“Merlin, you two are hopeless,” Regulus mutters under his breath.

Evan goes tense and looks over to see Barty’s reaction, but Barty is much too preoccupied with staring at Evan’s torso. It’s slightly unsettling, to be honest.

“Bee?” he prompts. “What are you looking at?”

Barty’s eyes climb up from Evan’s chest to his eyes, causing Evan to shiver.

“You’re wearing my hoodie,” he says.

Evan breathes in sharply.

“Oh,” he manages, then tries his hardest not to stumble over his words as he blurts, “I can take it off if you want. It was just the closest piece of clothing by my bed—” a blatant lie— “and I didn’t look at it before putting it on—” another lie— “and I’m sorry, I’ll take it off right now and—”

Barty’s hand covering his mouth cuts him off before he can start spiraling.

“It looks good on you,” he says, holding eye contact with Evan, who can feel Barty’s heartbeat against his lips. There’s something deeply intimate about the moment, and Evan doesn’t dare break eye contact as Barty slowly lowers his hand and opens his mouth to say something.

“Merlin,” Reg mutters again, because of course, “take the bedroom eyes somewhere far away from me, please.”

Evan immediately wants to scream at him, because that’s the second time today that Reg has ruined one of Evan’s moments with Barty. But the damage has been done, and he can feel the shift in energy before Barty even says anything.

“I mean, we can if Evan wants to.” Barty grins wolfishly up at Evan, eyeing him in a way that’s downright sinful. Evan tries not to feel too disappointed at the change in topic. After all, this is exactly what he had signed up for.

“Not today, Bee,” Evan murmurs as he turns back to his work. It might just be the hardest he’s ever had to try to focus on schoolwork. “I need to finish this essay.”

There’s a beat of silence as Evan scans through his previous work in an effort to resume his earlier train of thought, Barty a tempting distraction to his left. Barty tends to have this effect on him. Especially when he looks at Evan like he wants to drag him to the dorm and not let him come down for a good long while.

“Barty’s feeling neglected, Evan,” Regulus proclaims, breaking the silence.

Evan can’t help it. He looks over to the boy beside him, and sure enough, Barty’s gone back to pouting. Seriously, he needs to stop with this whole “wanting Evan’s attention” thing, or Evan’s going to get the wrong idea.

Evan aims his next words at Regulus, because it’s just easier.

“Tell him to get over it,” he says.

“He says to get over it,” Reg parrots, and Barty glares at him with enough force to make a weaker man wither.

But Regulus just blinks calmly and dips his quill into his ink pot, then writes his name on his essay with a flourish.

“Done,” he pronounces. “Now, I’m going to go get some dinner. Have fun and please don’t burn the library down.”

“Reg, we still have another twenty-ish minutes until dinner starts,” Barty points out, very obviously ignoring that last barb.

“He’s going to see Potter,” Evan stage-whispers. Barty snickers as Regulus’s face goes red.

“You know,” Regulus begins, narrowing his eyes at them, “before you said that I almost felt bad about leaving the two of you here alone together, considering everything going on between you, but now I’m actually pretty interested to see how this all plays out. Have fun dancing around each other like always,” he finishes, gathering his stuff.

Barty and Evan are both stunned into silence as Reg stands up and begins to walk away.

Only Barty recovers in time to call after him as he leaves, “Nice jersey, Reg,” and Evan groans because now is most definitely not the time.

Regulus simply gives them the finger in response, then disappears around the corner.

-

(Part 4 will be coming out on Saturday)

[s1eepers]

Louis Tomlinson x reader request: Louis has a football (soccer) match coming up for charity but it ends up getting rescheduled to their anniversary date and he’s stressed out about it and worried y/n will be upset with him

Love And Ball

Louis paced back and forth in his living room, anxiously running a hand through his mess of hair. The football match, which he had been looking forward to for weeks—his team's annual charity game—was suddenly rescheduled. Of all days, it was now set for the same day as his and your anniversary.

He knew how much this day meant to you both and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel let down. After all, you two had been planning a romantic evening filled with surprises, dinner, and perhaps a small getaway.

“Ah, bloody hell,” he muttered to himself, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. He pulled out his phone again, checking for the fiftieth time to see if you had replied to his last message.

Hey babe, can we talk later? Got some news to share…

Worry gnawed at his insides. What would you think when he had to tell you? Would you understand? Would you be upset? The last thing Louis wanted was to ruin your special day.

As he finally settled on the couch, trying to calm his racing heart, you walked in with a bright smile on your face, completely unaware of his inner feelings. You carried a small bouquet of flowers you’d picked earlier that day.

“Surprise! I thought I’d make the day a little special, just for us,” you said, lighting up the room with your enthusiasm.

Louis forced a smile, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. He took a deep breath, deciding to face the music. “Babe, we need ta’ talk,” he said gently.

You tilted your head, sensing something was off. “What’s wrong?”

His heart sank. “They moved the charity match… ta’ our anniversary.”

Silence stretched between you. The vibrant excitement in your eyes dimmed slightly as you processed the news. “Oh. They couldn’t have picked another date?”

“I know, but it’s for charity… And I’ve committed ta’ it. I just… I’m so sorry, luv,” he explained, guilt lacing his words. “I didn’t want this to happen. I wanted to celebrate with ya, just us, you know?”

You stepped closer, placing your flowers down and taking his hands in yours. “Louis. I get it. You care about this cause, and you care about your team. It’s important to you.”

“But it’s our anniversary,” he whispered, his accent thick with worry, feeling the weight of his disappointment. “And I don’t want ya to think I’m putting the game before you.”

You shook your head, a small smile returning to your lips. “Love, I understand how important this is. We can celebrate another time. Maybe we can do something fun together after the match?” Your voice filled with hope, love, and admiration.

He looked into your eyes, seeing the understanding and support swirling within them. You truly were remarkable. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he said, relief washing over him. “I’m lucky ta’ have you.”

“And I’m lucky to have you too, Lou. Just know that I’m here for you. I’ll cheer you on at the match and then we’ll have the best anniversary celebration ever—just the two of us.”

Louis pulled you into a warm embrace, squeezing you tightly. “I luv ya. I promise ta’ make it up ta’ ya.”

“Just focus on the game. That’s what matters now. We can make new memories later,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat slow as your presence calmed him.

The following week was a whirlwind of preparations for the charity match. You stood in the stands, dressed in his team's colors, waving a handmade sign that read, “Go, Louis!” Your support filled him with unparalleled determination.

After the match, as Louis ran off the field, the cheers from the crowd ringing in his ears, he spotted you and rushed over, adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

“Amazing game, babe!” you exclaimed, pulling him into a passionate kiss that made all the anxieties fade away.

“Thanks to you!” he said, his face glowing with joy. “Now, about that anniversary…”

As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the field, you grinned mischievously. “I’ve gotta little surprise planned. Just follow me.”

With your hand in his, you led him to a quiet spot overlooking the city, where you had set up a cozy picnic. The candles flickered, casting a warm glow as the stars began to twinkle above.

Louis couldn’t help but smile. “You really know how to turn things around, don’t ya?”

“That’s what love is for,” you said, sitting down on the blanket. “Now, let’s celebrate the best of both worlds.”

In that moment, surrounded by the love you shared, Louis realized that while plans may change, what truly mattered was the bond you both held.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Melted by Summer's Lust - Roger Barel (Premium End)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

NSFW, MINORS DNI

After coming back from the beach and showering came our 4th night.

Kate: Haaa…Nnn…

Roger: That’s a surprise…You easily took 4 fingers this time. Have you been fingering yourself behind my back since you couldn’t wait for me to touch you?

I knew he was trying to humiliate me, but tears welled up and my face burned with shame anyway.

Kate: I…didn’t…

Roger: Really now? …Then how’re you able to take me so well?

As Roger kissed my tears away, noises could be heard as he moved his fingers around.

I desperately tried to answer him as my body trembled, each movement of his fingers sending aftershocks throughout my body.

Kate: These past 4 days…I’ve been wanting you more and more…I couldn’t take it… Nnnn…so, probably, my body slowly lost tension…

Roger: …You wanna have sex with me?

Roger had cornered in both body and mind, and there was no escape.

Kate: Yes…

My voice trembled with pleasure when I answered him. Roger laughed softly despite the hand currently driving me into a corner.

Roger: Good answer…Looks like you’re almost at your limit. I’ll let you cum once.

Kate: Ah…

Roger’s fingers pressed against the most sensitive spot—

My vision immediately went white.

Roger: Let’s get some sleep and prepare for tomorrow.

Roger removed his fingers, wiped slick-stained body, and fixed my clothes…

As if nothing happened just now, he hugged me and lay down.

(My body’s aching as if I can still feel Roger’s fingers inside me…but I wonder how he’s holding up)

Kate: …Roger.

Roger: What is it?

(No…wait. If I ask how he’s doing, whatever answer he gives will be troubling…)

(I’ll ask him something else. Um…)

Kate: Y-you asked if I pleasured myself… Have you been doing that since we got here?

The silence between us was deafening.

Kate: That was a weird question…forget I asked.

Roger: I’m the one that brought it up in the first place…I haven’t. So it’s been pretty painful for me. Tomorrow…nevermind, it’s already today. I can’t wait to have you in my arms tonight.

(...Me too)

My heart and body wanted nothing more than to be held by Roger.

--

Morning of the 5th day. Roger and I woke up at the same time.

Kate: Ah……

Roger: …

We locked eyes…not a word was said between us as we stared at each other.

It felt as if there was some sort of irresistible tug that would land us back in bed.

Roger: …Morning, Kate.

Kate: Good morning…Roger.

Any temptation I felt faded when Roger greeted me.

We both realized we wanted the same thing…creating a titillating atmosphere.

Had either of us said the word, we could’ve immediately gotten what we wanted. Instead, we decided to wait until night time, like kids saving their favorite food for last.

It was like we were teetering on a tightrope.

—It was almost time.

--

On the 5th day, we grilled our dinner in the garden, similar to the barbecue we had the other day.

Kate: Thank you for the food! The fish you caught was really good.

Roger: Glad you liked it. But…you don’t look like you’ve eaten much today.

Kate: Your cooking is really good! It’s just that…I’m afraid that eating too much might affect tonight—ah…

After saying that, I realized that I couldn’t stop thinking about tonight.

(H-how embarrassing…)

When I looked away, Roger leaned over to whisper in my ear.

Roger: …How thoughtful.

The way Roger looked as he whispered those words captivated me and my thoughts drifted to tonight.

And thus, the night I’ve been waiting for arrived.

--

Roger: I’ve been keeping you waiting.

Kate: N-no, it’s fine…I was so nervous that time passed in a blink of an eye. Did you hear my heartbeat in the hallway?

I said that as a joke, hoping to calm myself down a bit.

Roger: …Nope, didn’t hear anything at all.

He took my hand and placed it against his chest.

I could feel his muscles through his shirt.

Roger: Didn’t hear a thing ‘cause of my own heartbeat.

—And so began our final night on this island.

First, we gave each other a hug to ease the awkward tension.

(Roger’s heartbeat is really fast…)

I closed my eyes and focused on the sound of his heartbeat.

Roger: …You can listen, but try not to fall asleep, okay?

Kate: I won’t. I’m just glad to hear the sound that proves you’re alive. I want to keep hearing this beloved sound for as long as I can, into the future.

Roger: You’re gonna have to live a long life if you wanna hear it.

And then our kisses slowly deepened…before long, I couldn’t hold back my overflowing desires any longer.

Kate: Mnn, ha…

Roger’s movements made me very aware of how his tongue probed my mouth.

We nibbled at each other’s lips, and the kiss got really wet and messy.

Kate: Roger, I…

Roger: Yeah…I’m at my limit too.

Roger shucked off his pants, revealing his erection that curved toward his abdomen.

Roger: …Let me prep you first.

Roger reached toward my soaking entrance.

Kate: Wait…

Roger: Scared?

Kate: No…It’s just…I don’t think I can wait any longer… You don’t need to prep me…You already…

Before I could finish, he pushed me down onto the bed.

Roger: …Damn it, had to put up with so much.

The way Roger looked down at me with the eyes of a predator, filled with pain and desire, scared me a little.

But it was sweet to see him control his restless desires through love and reason.

Roger: You really sure about this…?

Kate: Yes…

I wrapped my arms around Roger’s neck and pulled him toward me.

Roger took the signal to go ahead and I felt something hot enter me.

Kate: Mnn…Haaa…Aaaah!

He managed to work the tip in—

And slowly sank in deeper and deeper with each breath I took.

Once he was all the way in, he paused as we held each other and took shallow breaths.

Roger: Haaa…I can feel your walls pulsating around me…it’s like my hips wanna give out. You’re gonna have to go easy on me.

Kate: There’s no way…just having you inside me feels so good…

Roger wasn’t moving at all, but pleasure continued to course through me in waves, making me clench around him.

I was so needy that I couldn’t even consider how he felt.

Kate: What do I do…Roger. I’ve never felt so much pleasure just from putting it in… My body’s probably going crazy…because I’ve been denied for so long.

Roger: That’s fine…Let’s lose ourselves together.

We kissed and lay with each other more than enough times to make up for the past 4 days.

We melted from both the summer heat and our love for each other—but the 5th night wasn’t over yet.

[rangerbarbz]

Love Drunk

Disclaimer: This is my first ever published fanfiction. I have been wanting to write for a while, and I have been on a Gravity Falls kick. I really hope y’all enjoy it. I apologize for any grammar mistakes. Thank you so much for reading!

Summary: Ford and reader are college best friends. Reader is in love with Ford, but he doesn’t know. One night, the reader gets drunk and lets some things slip out. This is pure fluff.

You arrived at Ford's dorm room door and knocked on it softly so as not to startle him. You were alone in your dorm due to your roommate and her boyfriend being out for a late-night rendezvous. You decided to ask your best friend, Ford, if it would be okay if you got ready in his room. There was a party going on at one of the frat houses, and you were going to get dolled up at his dorm. You didn't like being alone in your dorm because of some weirdos on your floor, so you often visited Ford in his room when your roommate was gone. To be honest, you were always there just because you enjoyed being there with him.

Ford opened the door and greeted you with a smile on his face. "Hi, Y/N! Come on in. I was just working on some physics homework." He stepped aside so you could enter his dorm. His desk had books all over it along with scattered papers, but the rest of the room was decently clean. Other than some crumpled up paper balls from where he missed the trashcan, it was quite a cozy place.

You smiled up at him. "Thanks so much for letting me come over to get ready, Ford. I promise you it won't take long. I already have everything planned for the look,” you explained, holding up a floral blouse and bell bottom pants. "What do you think?"

Ford laughed. "Well, you know I don't know much about style, but I do think it looks nice. You'll have to beat those frat guys off with a stick," he joked, sitting at his desk.

A slight blush spread over your face while you laughed. "Thank you, Ford. You turned to walk to his bathroom, and sighed when he was out of earshot. You wished you were beating HIM off with a stick (or your hand, either way.) You have liked him ever since you met at freshman orientation; he had thick, dark hair, dorky glasses, and a cute sweater vest. You quickly became friends after having a biology class together. You wanted him to like you so badly.

After you got done getting completely ready, you stepped out of his bathroom. Ford turned around to face you. His eyes widened a bit as he looked at you up and down. "Wow, Y/N," he said. "You look great!" That sickeningly charming smile was once again on his face.

"Really? You think so?" you asked, your heartbeat picking up.

"Yes, I do," he replied. There was a second-lasting silence between you before he said, "Well! Back to the drawing board!" He turned back around to face his homework and started scribbling away.

Your shoulders slumped in disappointment. You walked up behind him and set your chin on the top of his head. "You know, I still could use a plus one," you murmured, hoping you could get him to go with you.

 Ford chuckled. "I appreciate the invite Y/N, but you know parties aren't really my crowd. Plus, I got this assignment to finish.” You exhaled out your nose. Why did you even ask? You knew it was a lost cause to get him to notice you.

“Okay, nerd. Suit yourself.” You straightened up and grabbed your purse off his bed. “If I make any bad decisions tonight, I’m blaming you,” you stated, shutting the door behind you.

                                           | Later that Night |

You stumbled down the hallway making your way to Ford’s door. You had had one too many tonight trying to get your unrequited love off your mind. You started knocking on his door before saying in the manliest tone you could come up with, “This is the SWAT team. If you don’t open up, I’ll confiscate the textbooks.” You covered your mouth to keep from making noise.

There was shuffling behind the door. It then opened to reveal a confused looking Ford in plaid pajama pants and a crewneck. “Y/N? Are you okay?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

You held your hand up to your mouth again feigning a walkie-talkie noise. “Breaker, breaker the dork is here. I repeat, the dork is here. Over.” You could barely get through saying it because of your hiccups.

Ford began laughing. “Are you drunk?” He guided you into his room. If you weren’t wasted, you would be freaking out over the fact his hand was on the small of your back.

You turned to face him. “Sir, you do not ask p-police if they are drunk.”

He smirked. “I thought you were the SWAT?”

You paused for a moment. “Don’t sass me, boy,” you retorted, poking a finger into his arm. What you poked, exactly, was a bicep. “Oh my. I like your arms. They’re like… totally muscular,” you slurred.

Ford’s face went bright red. “Uh, thank you Y/N.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. He was not used to receiving compliments, especially about his appearance. “Here, let’s get you into something more comfortable and get you to bed. I have an extra toothbrush, and you can wash your face in the sink if you’d like.”

“Okie dokie, manly Stan,” you replied, saluting him. Ford giggled and shook his head. While you were finishing up in his bathroom, he placed one of his t-shirts and boxer shorts in a neat, folded pile on the counter beside you.

“I’m sorry if you don’t like the clothes. I haven’t done laundry in a while,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I like them,” you reassured him. You picked them up and sniffed them comically loud. “They smell like you.” Ford was about as red as a tomato and was going to reply before you started peeling off your clothes in front of him.

“WOAH!” he exclaimed, covering his eyes, and walking back into his room. He wasn’t expecting that and did not want to see you in such a state when you weren’t in the right mindset. (Although, if circumstances were different, he would have been blessed to see you like that.) You put on his pajamas and walked in to see him make a pallet of blankets on the floor.

He smiled fondly at you. “You can sleep on my bed. I fluffed up the pillows for you.” He seemed a little nervous. “Let me know if you need anything.”

You grinned back at him and wrapped your arms around his waist. He was hesitant at first, but he returned the embrace. He was warm and you felt protected in his strong arms. If you were sober, you would have melted.

You gazed up at him, sleepiness slowly taking over your body. “Ford?”

“Yes?” His chin was resting atop your head, and his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He looked down at you with his big, brown eyes.

You whispered not-so-quietly in his ear, “I love you.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you fell asleep. Ford caught you before you collapsed on the floor. He scooped you up in his arms and placed you on his bed. He pulled the blanket up to your chin and tucked a stray hair behind your ear.

“I love you, too.”

                                            | That Next Morning |

Ford held your hair back as you vomited into his toilet. This was not the way you wanted to begin the wee hours of the day. You couldn’t remember a thing from last night. After you were done, you drank the glass of water he offered you.

“Ford, I am so sorry about this,” you apologized, holding the side of your head in your hand. “I appreciate you taking care of me last night.” You looked over at him. “I probably would be in much worse shape without you.” You smiled warmly at you. God, he looked so good right now. His hair was tousled, and he was still in his pajamas.

“No. It’s absolutely no problem. I promise you,” he replied, gazing at you. You could’ve sworn he looked at your lips. “Um, there is something I need to ask you though… Did you mean what you said last night?” His eyes were full of hope, but you didn’t know why.

“Ah, what exactly did I say last night?” you questioned. You were wracked with anxiety over what his response would be.

A blush travelled across his face. “Well,” he let out a dry laugh, “this is hard to say. Um, you told me you loved me.”

Your chest tightened, and you put your head between your knees. “Oh my god. You weren’t supposed to hear that-“

“Did you mean it?” Ford interrupted you. You lifted your head up to meet his eyes. They looked sad now.

You sighed. “Yes, I did. I’ve been wanting to tell you, but I completely understand if you don’t feel the same way. I just hope we can still be friends,” you rambled.

“Who said I didn’t feel the same way?” he asked you quietly. He was smiling from ear to ear.

You gasped. “Are you serious right now? Like you aren’t joking with me?” This could not be real. There was no way the guy of your dreams reciprocated your feelings.

“Of course not. Why would I joke about that? I’ve always loved you. Just been too much of a coward to tell you.” As he was talking, he was looking at the ground, tracing the grout between the tiles with his finger. “You’re the kindest and most beautiful girl I’ve ever known. It would be statistically improbable for me NOT to fall in love with you. Trust me. I did the math.”

You laughed, and now you were the one blushing. “That was the sweetest and dorkiest thing anybody has ever said to me.” You scooted your hand towards his and intertwined your fingers together. It felt nice. “So, what other things did I confess to you last night?” you asked.

He laughed and rested his arm behind you. His six-fingered hand squeezed your shoulder. “Oh don’t even get me started.”

                                                  | THE END|

Author’s Note: Would y’all like a part two? I would be happy to make this into a series.

[mysumeow]

──CYCLE

ᓚᘏᗢ WARNINGS: Gender-neutral reader. Implied established relationship. 100% sfw. ᓚᘏᗢ SUMMARY: Jamil gets sick and reader takes care of him. ᓚᘏᗢ WORD COUNT: 1k. ᓚᘏᗢ A/N: im so happy i got jamil's applepom ssr :'DDD i knew i wanted that ssr the moment it was released in the japanese server TT_TT

⸝⸝⸝

The first few seconds after Jamil woke up, he registered a faint warmth that blossomed from his chest and broadened to the rest of his body.

It was a matter of time for said warmth to become unpleasant, however. Little by little, he noticed the dullness and soreness of his limbs, along with the annoying pain that sliced through his throat.

A fever.

Jamil recalled the last situations he was involved in that could’ve led to this result.

Ah, yes. It was yesterday. The day began with clear skies. Next thing he knew, gray clouds that harbored thunders and lighting covered the sky. He realized Kalim was outside and could get soaked by the rain if he didn’t hurry, which would end up in the housewarden getting sick, and, as a dutiful attendant, he couldn’t allow that.

By the time he found an umbrella, it was already raining. Left with no choice, Jamil went headfirst into the downpour.

A shiver struck through Jamil, cutting his recall short. As he rolled to the other side, he embraced himself under the blankets.

It was only after this change of position that he spotted you. He saw you sitting on a chair next to his bed, your head down and on the verge of losing your balance if you didn’t wake up soon.

“Hey,” he grimaced when the sting in his throat became stronger. “You’re about to fall from the chair. Wake up.”

You blinked the drowsiness away and stretched.

“Hi, Jamil. Did you sleep well?”

Even though Jamil nodded, his expression devoid of any joy didn’t convince you. You’d checked his temperature earlier, and it was a whopping 39 °C, so it was safe to assume he felt awful.

You got up and removed the wet cloth that was on his forehead.

He wasn’t one to fall sick often, but when he did, it hit him hard. In other instances, he would take ibuprofen and deal with it in silence. He couldn’t ignore his responsibilities due to a cough and sore throat.

“I’m going to dampen it again, okay? I’ll be back,” you said, heading in the bathroom's direction.

His eyes followed your retreating figure, his head in atypical quietude.

Being taken care of…Jamil acknowledged to himself that it felt refreshing. Don’t ask him about it, though. He would deny it. Nevertheless, there was a tiny uneasiness that stemmed from not being used to being this level of vulnerability.

You emerged back from the bathroom. With the damp cloth on your hand, you were about to place it on his forehead, but Jamil stopped you. His recalling about yesterday’s events made him remember he needed to keep an eye on Kalim!

“I’ve got to prepare Kalim’s breakfast,” he jumped out of bed and walked a couple of steps before dizziness made him falter. If not for your effort to get him back to bed, he would’ve tripped.

“Breakfast? It’s past midday.”

Jamil’s eyes opened like saucers. “What! You could’ve woken me up earlier!”

You shook your head disapprovingly as he tried, for a second time, to get up. You pushed him back to bed again.

“Do you think you’re in conditions to carry on with your usual schedule? When you can’t even stand up without losing footing?”

He was a stubborn one when it came to being responsible, and even if he wanted to insist, the fever obfuscated his train of thought.

Jamil watched you brush away the disheveled hair strands that were on his forehead, combing your fingers through the long locks of hair with gentleness. His heartbeat picked up, but he convinced himself it was because of the fever and definitely not because of a different kind of warmth that ignited within. Unlike the hot temperature caused by the illness, this one was pleasant.

The tender sensation had an abrupt interruption from a second shiver that ran up his spine; goosebumps rose.

“I hate this. I feel like I’m freezing.” Jamil lamented, irritated at his state.

Jamil closed his eyes for a moment, with the intention of coming up with a plan to get back on track as soon as possible.

An unexpected shift on the bed prompted him to look at the source of it: you were cuddling him.

“You’re going to get sick.” Jamil groaned. You snuggled up to him while he was deep in thought. Your arms were around his torso, with your cheek squished on his chest.

“It’s okay. I’ll help you stay warm.” 

In other circumstances, he would’ve put up a little bit more resistance since he didn’t want to infect you. Anyways, he knew you wouldn’t listen, and he didn’t have the energy to argue.

Resigned, Jamil sighed and placed an arm around you. You got comfortable and placed a leg on his, his body was like a heater. He was in silent contemplation, and his lethargic breathing lulled you to sleep.

Within a pair of days, Jamil’s health recovered with swiftness.

You, on the other hand...

“I told you were going to catch it.”

The way he scolded you sort of reminded you of your mom—a thought you found quite funny and still laughed, albeit the discomfort.

“Don’t be so mean, Jamil,” Kalim sided with you. “The prefect spent the past days taking care of you.”

“Tell him, Kalim. Speak the truth.”

“Do you want me to buy you something? Do you want ice cream?”

“That could increase the inflammation. Don’t,” Jamil stopped the housewarden before he could worsen your condition. “I’ve brought enough medicine.”

“Way to be a killjoy,” you crossed your arms, pretending to be angry.

“I’ll invite you to ice cream after you’re healthy again.”

“Alright, I guess…”

After a few more exchange of words, Kalim’s club activities urged him to leave sooner than Jamil.

“Take these,” He handed you a glass of water and ibuprofen. “I also made soup. That should help you soothe the ache, too.”

“Will you feed me it?” you asked with a grin, remembering how bashful he became when you did that favor for him. “And will you cuddle me too?”

“I’ll feed you the soup. Although, I won’t cuddle you,” in spite of his serious tone, you heeded the timid hint suppresed in it. “It would become a cycle of both of us getting sick.”

“Fine, fair point. That’d be silly.”

[straws-and-sunflowers]

I'm curious but what are some of your lawlu headcanons???

*cracks knuckles*

Luffy wise:

* before Law, Luffy was never in any sort of relationship, too focused on the next adventure to really indulge in things like that- cause it was the last thing occupying his mind

* When Luffy first encounters his interest in Law it’s at Sabaody but it’s just curiosity, after Marineford he feels indebted to him and it really kind of happens on Punk Hazard.

*Luffy despite how blunt and straightforward he is- like any normal hormonal human being experiences anxiety. It’s quiet anxiety when it’s not comical or fight wise but more emotion based and it happens a lot around Law! It’s a lot of- “Oh wow! Wait am I being too much?? Nah!” And similar things like that. He gets a lot more fidgety and squirmy near him and often in the night will be lying awake during his pining period and over the course of the alliance he’s lying in bed and he’s just kind of like “fucccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.”

* He is NOT the first to confess, loss is a prominent thing in wanting to be strong enough to stop it-but how do you be strong enough to keep someone like Law around?

* He does however stare at the mirror sometimes and pretends to be Law and himself trying to work out a confession that might impress the other with fanciful words

* His entire crew is aware (you’re not slick)

* When he finally receives his first kiss from Law- he fucking explodes-not literally…his entire face is red for the rest of the day and he’s jumping up and down like a maniac

* and since Law is essentially his first everything he cherished those feelings like treasure, (it fucked him up when Doflamingo made fun of his and Law’s relationship- he got really unnerved)

* He’s just a lil guy- and affection from Law makes his head spin in circles, he doesn’t mind letting someone else guide him for once, it’s relieving having someone he can fall back on, emotionally and otherwise. After all, Law’s seen him at his most vulnerable how could he not trust him?

Torao wise:

Law doesn’t get slapped in the face until Dressrosa, it’s curiosity at Sabaody, empathy at Marineford, surprise at Punk Hazard and then holy shit Luffy just fucking destroyed that bitch

Law isn’t great with people- but he’s not an idiot. He took one look at Luffy staring at him with heart eyes, caught him mumbling pick up lines under his breath that he most definitely learned from Ace and then squinted.

It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

Law’s been in “relationships” but it was experimental shit and he wasn’t ever fully invested, I imagine it happened just throughout because Penguin, Shachi, Bepo kind of pushed him towards it… when it came to Luffy the feelings were so vastly different that it made him go to his friends and be like “I’m sick”

He was not sick.

Over the course of the alliance, Law just in general realizes how fucking funny it is that they both kind of like each other, and he’s a jackass so he kind of pokes and prods sometimes with light flirtations- and Luffy obliviously prods back- it’s a weird ass banter they share, and it’s comfortable

But of course with ups there must come downs and much like Luffy getting anxious over everything he does so does Law! But while Luffy’s is more directly tied to his self worth, Law is more about his past, his trauma, his reputation—would he be a burden? Would Luffy even have the capacity to pay attention to him-is this fleeting? Does this matter? They’re both idiots

When Law confesses it’s-it’s in the stupidest way imaginable he’s kind of just- I’ll be so for real it’s in WANO. YES WANO THE LAST OF THEIR ALLIANCE, YES WANO THEY ARE GONNA PART WAYS- YES WANO AND THEN BLACKBEARD FUCKING GRIDDIES ON LAW.

…..so sorry

*clears throat*

I just know- that when Luffy fucking dies- I know this because I’ve been partially spoiled I mean for fucks sake I know about Joy boy-

I know in his heart Law is fucking destroyed for a heartbeat- when he finds Luffy- when he sees him rise up like the light he is- I swear to god he screams his name-

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BATTLE

WHILE KAIDO IS STILL UP

“MUGIWARA-YA!!”

“HAH?? TORAO?!”

“DON’T YOU DARE DIE AGAIN-YOU HEAR ME?!—I’M NOT GONNA LOSE MY IDIOT SOULMATE TO KAIDO! KICK HIS ASS!!”

:3

[specialagentlokitty]

9th doctor x reader - made for each other

Hello! So, I saw that you wanted requests for the 9th doctor and thought I would jump in cause there are not enough fics for 9. I was thinking something where companion reader is injured and 9 nurses her back to health and during that time they admit their feelings for each other. If that's something you would be interested in. - @padawancat97 💜

You couldn’t really remember what had happened, or how you had ended up so badly injured, but you did remember the sounds of the doctor above you, saying you’ll be alright.

You were crying, hand clutching tightly at your side, breathing heavily as you rested your head on the wall behind you.

The doctor was knelt in front of you, one hand pressed over yours on your side, his other on the side of your face.

“I know… I know sweetheart.. I know…” he whispered.

The doctor took his screwdriver out, scanning your side, and he did something that made you scream in pure agony.

“I’m sorry! It’ll help!”

“Make it stop…” you begged weakly.

The doctor looked at you, and he wiped some of your tears away with his hand, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I will, I promise I’ll make it all go away…”

The doctor looked behind him, then he turned back to you, running his knuckles along the skin of your cheek, offering you a gentle smile.

“You’re going to be good as new, I promise…”

He looked behind him again, down the hallway to where his TARDIS was, and he looked back you.

“Are you ready for one last run?” He asked softly.

You nervously nodded your head, and he gave you a little grin.

“Of course you are… you always are…”

The doctor placed your arm over his shoulder, his hand pressing tightly on your side.

“Ready…”

He gave a small countdown, and hauled you up which made you cry out in pain and he immediately began to apologise to you.

You both made your way to the TARDIS as fast as you possibly could, the doctor could feel your blood running through his fingers.

He threw the door open, helping you inside and slowly sat you down against the other door.

“I need you to stay awake, okay? Stay awake, keeping looking at me.”

You nodded your head a little bit.

“Good, okay, okay I’ll be right back okay?”

You nodded against.

The doctor ran to the console, his eyes flicking to you, making sure that you were still watching him like he told you to.

He saw your head falling just a little bit.

“(Y/N)?”

The doctor glanced over.

“(Y/N)?!”

He slammed his hand into a button to send the TARDIS into flight and ran back over, taking your face between his hands.

“No, no, no, no, (Y/N)?! Hey! Hey look at me!”

He picked you up, running you through the hallways, finding any suitable room he could set you down in and he came across his room first.

He quickly and carefully laid you down on the bed, throwing things out of his wardrobe until he found whatever he could to help you.

Covering your chest with his quilt he tore you shirt, so he could get better access to your side.

The wound wasn’t deep, but it was big, and still bleeding.

The had the TARDIS scan your heartbeat and use the audio system to let him listen to it, making sure that it sounded normal.

Placing a bandage on your side, the doctor was carefully when it came to covering you back up, and he grabbed a bowl and a cloth, cleaning the blood he had gotten on your face and the blood on your hands.

He didn’t even notice the blood on his hands, or on the floor, he was so focused on you.

Making sure to get every speck of blood from your skin.

The he just laid in the bed next to you, head on his arm, gaze solely fixated on you, running his thumb along your cheek, listening to the sound of your heartbeat throughout the room.

After a few hours of laying there he finally got up to clear the blood from everywhere else, shower, and change his clothes.

He ket the TARDIS in flight, that way nothing was able to get to you, and wherever he went in the TARDIS your heartbeat followed him.

It was almost soothing, hearing your heartbeat wherever he went, but he spent most of his time just laid next to you, watching you.

He kept a close log of everything, the healing rate of your wound, your heart rate every few hours, your temperature, whatever he deemed as important.

He eventually brought the TARDIS to a land a few days later, a quiet planet, away from everything and everyone where he could focus on you.

Finally you woke up while he was at the console, the TARDIS let him know that you were awake and he ran straight to the room.

He came to a near crashing halt in front of the door, stumbling through it as he looked at you.

“(Y/N)!”

He rushed over, scanning you with his screwdriver, looking at the results, then back to you.

“Are you okay? Are you in any pain? Do you need anything?”

He kept rambling questions to you, and you reached up, placing your hand on his arm, getting his attention and he quickly stopped.

“I… water…”

“That I can do!” He grinned.

He ran out of the room again, coming back a few minutes later with a bottle of water.

The doctor set it on the floor, and he opened it, then placed his hand on the back of your head to lift it up, helping you take a drink.

He set your head back down, putting the lid back on the bottle before turning to you, kneeling next to the bed and resting his arms on it.

“How’re you feeling?” He asked gently.

“I’m okay…”

He nodded his head.

“I’m so sorry I.. I never thought… I didn’t…”

You smiled, reaching your hand out you placed it on his head, running your fingers down to the side of his face.

“It’s okay… it’s not your fault…”

“I should have never taken you there (Y/N), never. You got hurt because of me.”

You moved your hand, lightly flicking his forehead which made him frown, rubbing the sore spot.

“I got hurt because I touched something I shouldn’t have… that’s not your fault doctor…”

He sighed a little bit, resting his chin on his arms.

“I’ll take you back home when you’re better.”

“You better not or I’ll kick your ass.”

He laughed a little bit, smiling softly up at you, and you placed your hand on the side of his face, running your thumb along his cheek.

“Do you want anything to eat?”

You thought for a moment.

“Not yet, I’m kind of tired, but then can we have chips?”

“We can have whatever you want.”

The doctor would bring you food and drinks to your bed, he refused to let you get up for the first few days, he changed your bandage regularly and helped you up if you absolutely needed to get up.

After the first few days you could sit up, you couldn’t walk far on your own, and you couldn’t stretch because you’d pull at your wound.

You were sleeping with your head on his chest, he was running a hand up and down your arm.

“I’m hungry…”

“You’re always hungry. What do you want?”

You turned your head to look up at him.

“Can we get burgers?”

“We sure can.”

He kissed your forehead and gently moved you aside so he could head to the console, and you yawned.

Getting up you grabbed a discarded jumper of his, pulling it over your head, slowly walking over to console.

You took the steps one at a time, hand on your side as if that was going to help the pressure.

“Hey, hey you shouldn’t be walking when the TARDIS is moving.”

He walked over, holding his hands out to you, and you took them, letting him help you down the rest of the steps, and he sat you down.

“It’s dangerous and you could get hurt.”

“Everything is dangerous.”

“I know, but you’re already hurt, I don’t want to make it worse.”

The doctor waited until the TARDIS had fully stopped, then he walked over to you, holding out his hand with a bright smile.

You smiled back softly at him.

“Now, let’s go get you a burger.”

You placed your hand in his, letting him lace his fingers with yours as you guys left the TARDIS.

He gestured to the whole area around you both.

“Pick wherever you’d like.”

The doctor kept a watchful eye on you as you looked around, slowly wondering around, looking for somewhere to eat.

You finally found a McDonald’s and you decided to go there, so the doctor sat you down at a table, and he listened as you told him exactly what you wanted.

You were softly kicking your feet back and forth, head resting on your arms as you waited for him to come back.

You were watching him stand in line, and when he glanced over at you you smiled at him which resulted in him smiling back at you.

He brought the food over, you ate, and decided you wanted to go for a walk, which the doctor agreed to under the strict condition that you two didn’t go to far from the TARDIS.

You happily agreed to this, just content with your hand in his, slowly walking around just taking to him about everything.

Eventually the pain in your side came back, and you stopped walking, placing your hand on his chest to stop him.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong?” He whispered.

“It’s my side…”

He nodded his head, and crouched down in front of you, letting you climb onto his back and he stood up again.

“So what should we do? Carry on? Or go back?”

“We should go back, you can’t carry me all night. I’m sure you don’t want that.”

“Oi! Who says I can’t and don’t want to?” He huffed.

You laughed softly, resting your chin on his shoulder.

The doctor tilted his head to the side, resting it on yours.

“You can’t seriously carry me all night.”

“Is that a challenge? I’ll do it, I’ll never let your feet touch the ground again.”

You laughed, and he grinned a little bit.

“Come on, where do you want to go?”

“I don’t care, as long as you’re here it’s alright by me.” You said softly.

“Why’s that?” He asked.

You hummed a little and shrugged.

“Because I like you.”

“Course you do! What’s not to like?” He grinned.

You smiled at him, turning your head so you could kiss his cheek and you went back to whatever where ever he was going.

“Thanks for taking care of me…”

“I’ll always take care of you sweetheart, always, above all else you are my first priority.”

“Really?”

“Of course! I’d be pretty lost without you (Y/N).”

You laughed a little bit, wiggling slightly to let him know that you wanted to be put down, so he carefully set you down.

You walked around him, taking his hands in yours.

“My beautiful, amazing, (Y/N)…” he whispered.

He freed one of his hands, placing it on the side of your face, and you leant into his touch.

“I will always be there to save you… no matter where we are… I’ll always come and find you…”

You smiled.

“I know you will…”

The doctor studied you for a moment, the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the way your hand fit in his so perfectly.

He remembered everything else as well, the fact you always hugged him, you always kissed his cheek if you were going away somewhere without him.

You looked at him and you just admired him, you looked at him for who he was, you knew him.

“I love you.” He whispered.

You stared at him in shock.

“What?”

A grin slowly spread across his face.

“I love you. I love you!”

You laughed, throwing your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and he held you gently.

“I love you too…”

The doctor twirled you both around, then he set you back on the ground, quickly leaning down so he could capture you in a kiss.

A kiss that neither of you would admit that you had both been thinking about for a long, long time

[celestoria]

In Your Arms Tonight

Summary: Dan Heng keeps on getting nightmares so you decided that he should sleep in your room for a couple days. After another episode, he thought it was best to help him get his mind off it~

Pairing: Dan Heng x fem!reader

Tags: bottom!Dan Heng, nightmares, reader is a service top, clothed, overstimulation, handjob, penetration, dumbification, creampie, ig this is like comforting him so like a bit of fluff here and there

Word Count: 1.4k

A/n: Dedicated to a close friend, @scarlettjskipper. This took a while to make but i hope you enjoy!

Do not interact if you are 16 or below (17+)

A terrible nightmare is no stranger to the man who resides by the archives of the Astral Express. Every so often you’d find him strolling down the hallway of the train during late hours, trying to take his mind off the reoccurring horrors that haunt him.

Out of worry, you decided to let him sleep in your room for a couple of nights until he feels better.

Dan Heng felt more assured with you by his side, curled up under the same sheets and his head resting on your chest where he could listen to your peaceful heartbeat as he drifted to sleep. If only he could take you to his dreams too, then maybe he wouldn’t pray for more dreamless nights.

But alas, it seems the aeons had not heard his pleas when he thought he was safe in your grasp.

You awoke to his head lightly shifting on your breast paired with mumbled words you can’t seem to decipher. “Dan Heng, wake up,” you said as you tried to shake him awake. “Dan Heng!”

The man’s eyes shot wide open and gasped for air by the time he rose. Cold sweat covered him and the darkness felt disorienting. If it wasn’t for your voice trying to comfort him the moment he woke up, it would take longer for him to calm down.

Dan Heng groaned and rubbed his temples. For him, this is starting to feel like an endless hunt where he was the prey and the predator was hiding somewhere he cannot see. The last thing he wanted to do now was go back to sleep.

Anxiety and concern rushed through you as he faced this dilemma. You tried to imagine how it felt that even during sleep, you were still not at peace. All you can think of is that it must be difficult to go through something as tough as that.

“Is there anything I can do for you? Probably fetch you some water or….” you said, trying to provide him a bit of solace.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. However, I do need something to get my mind off it right now,” he replied. “How about we lay down for a while,” he requested.

You agreed and laid back down on your bed, with your limbs wrapped around the man to cuddle him. Your lips pressed on his forehead as you combed through his hair and his face buried in between the low cut of your nightwear. Your warmth was a haven for him but it seems that the memories of the dream still lingered in his mind.

He wanted something more.

Your eyes locked for a second when he called out your name before his lips met yours. His fingers snaked up from the back of your head to push you closer to him. Taken aback by his abrupt actions, you slowly pulled away.

He looked down, unable to face you with such an absurd request. “I am aware I might be asking too much of you tonight, but-“

“It’s alright. I understand,” you cut him off short to spare him from his bashfulness. “But are you sure you don’t mind?”

He nodded. “I promise it will make me feel better.” Dan Heng found himself to be a fortunate person to have you by his side. Someone so understanding and caring whenever these sorts of things happen to him. Deep down he is thanking his lucky stars for helping both of you cross paths that fateful day.

Without another word, you mindlessly perched yourself on Dan Heng’s lap as your mouth sucked on the side of his neck, causing a silent gasp to leave him. One hand held onto his bicep, while the other made its way under his pants and teased his tip slowly starting to coat itself with precum. Your thumb swirled on its smooth surface before you began pumping him, making it harder than it was earlier.

Dan Heng shuddered. The cloth of your nightgown tightened around your waist as he clasped its fabric and you sensed a pang of pain when his teeth bit down on your shoulders to muffle out any loud noise coming from him. Indulgent mewls and sinful moans crawled to your ears the more you teased him.

“Don’t stop,” Dan Heng begged. His hips struggled to stay in place and his teeth dug deeper into your skin. Heat flushed his body as his abdomen felt like it was getting coiled with a spring.

Soon after, strings of white liquid squirted out of his dick and coated the gaps of your fingers. You brought your hand to your mouth and slowly licked the cum off. “Do you feel any better now,” you asked with sympathy oozing out of your lips.

“I still want more,” he pleaded with a huff, clearly trying to recover after being pushed off the edge like that. “Please.”

Unable to dismiss his request, you hiked up the skirt of your negligee and inserted a small portion of his cock deep in you while the lining of your panty pushed itself aside to make way. As you sank on him, cool hands made their way under his shirt and grazed his skin, leading him to shiver.

Your walls wrapped around him and your slick pooling underneath you the more your pussy frantically bounced on his cock, causing the bed frame to loudly creaked.

His hot breath tickled your collarbone as his face pressed itself on the crook of your neck, hiding the pink flush growing brighter on his cheeks. Dan Heng's mind was already in a haze, unable to think other than how your name feels when it escapes his mouth. It’s as if your touch and intimacy brought him more tranquillity compared to the times he’d spend his nights alone on his bed where he knew he'd wake up with shock and fear making his heart race.

Your movements started to get a little sloppy by the time you were pumping him balls deep in you.“Dan Heng,” you moaned. Even if you were the one in control tonight, you can’t help but debaucherously cry out his name, especially when his cock never misses your G-spot with the angle it’s curved.

However, you tried to get a hold of yourself in case anyone would walk by your room and realize what the both of you are up to right now. A part of you worried about that scenario turning into reality but the other side didn’t care when you were so close to experiencing such an earth-shattering high.

Your back arched and Dan Heng’s body quaked as if both of you were seeing stars. White painted the walls of your cunt while his dick was still inside you twitching.

You knew he’s been holding it in with how his body squirmed under you and his whimpers became uncontrollably louder. His tired body trembled and leaned on you for support. For a moment he was refusing to let you go out of his grasp. Sadly, you gently slid off his arms that clung to you and reached out for the box of tissues in the drawer of your side table.

You wiped off his dick, still sensitive after an intense night, and Dan Heng jerked. “Are you all right,” you asked off the bat while you crawled back to your side of the bed and saw him leaning on the bed frame.

He nodded slowly, his body leaning on the headboard and his tired eyes fluttering as his lids began to feel heavy. It seems he won’t be thinking about the dream until it’s time for everyone to walk up again. You helped Dan Heng rest his head on the pillow and pulled the blanket to keep him warm. For the first time in days, he was sleeping soundly again without staring at the ceiling for hours on end.

After sweeping his bangs off his forehead to get a better look at him, your lips pecked the side of his mouth and smiled at him as you whispered.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”